Latin spells provided by google translate.
PS: My apologies for the sonnet. I'm a bit of a Shakespeare nerd. I love being inspired by the sonnets, so it was inevitable I would use them more directly in one of my fanfics. They can be skipped. If you would like to read them, but have trouble with the Shakespearean wording (which everyone has at first!) I highly recommend No Fear Shakespeare by SparkNotes. God, if I had had this resource when I was at school my life would have been so much easier!
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Chapter Three: The Marking
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,
As to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimmed in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honor shamefully misplaced,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disablèd,
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,
And simple truth miscalled simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill.
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that to die, I leave my love alone.
Sonnet #66
There was a knock on the door. No, a pounding, only the long distance made it faint. It echoed through the rooms and reached Draco Malfoy in the inner study. He was lying on a dusty divan in front of an empty fireplace, using his cloak as a blanket. There were several bottles of firewhiskey underneath, but he had not drunk of them for days. The potion bottles were the more worrisome.
The room around him was deteriorating. The preservation charms on the bookshelves had failed and not been replaced. The large desk with carved snakes framing every corner was covered in papers, covered in dust. Beyond the study the rest of the house had been closed up long ago, and it had not been opened up at Draco's arrival. The furniture was covered by sheets, the chandeliers as well, but the charms against the sun had failed, the portraits were starting to fear bleaching.
Outside was another world, alive and so bright it would hurt Draco's eyes to look. The garden had overgrown, nature bursting its once well-trimmed demarcations. The path was still visible, winding its way to the edge of the cliff, and then down a stone-carved stair to the Mediterranean, which lay warm and blinking up at the house.
Inside the curtains were drawn, and Draco slept. The two house-elves still in the Malfoy family's employ were pulling their ears in the kitchen – which was spotless of course. Every four hours or so they would try again to get Draco to eat something. Occasionally, he acquiesced, but most often he simply grunted and turned slowly in his sleep.
This house he could stay in till the end. Malfoy Manor had been reduced to gravel, but this place had not housed evil. A few happy summers only.
The knock – the pounding – came again, agitated, desperate. A house-elf popped into the study, wringing its ears.
'Please, Master Malfoy, Sir, should Tilly get the door?' it squeaked.
'No,' Draco grumbled.
'Please, Sir,' the elf persisted. 'The baby cries so badly.'
'Baby?' Draco opened his eyes. 'What baby?'
XXX
I was led to the study, where He waited. I was very nervous, but showed no fear. He asked Malfoy to leave us alone, which surprised me. I had assumed there would be witnesses. It was the first time we were alone together. He is unlike any man I have ever heard of. He smiled very kindly at me, which I appreciated but thought unnecessary. He explained in detail what his desires and plans were. It will be the biggest political upheaval since the days of Merlin. No other man could do it, that much I do know. I have gone over his doctrine before and so will not touch on it here.
He asked if I was ready to pledge myself to his cause. If I wished to be part of the great undertaking that lay before us. I answered that I wished for nothing save to serve him, that he was the greatest wizard I knew. He said he did not want servants, but allies. He warned the Ministry might use force against us. I continued to answer in the affirmative. He accepted by allegiance.
He asked me to extend my right arm and pull up my sleeve. He placed the tip of his wand against my skin. He whispered I spell, which I believe went as follows:
Auctoro probare
I understood it meant I should demonstrate my willingness to serve him. I have never heard of such a spell, but it does not surprise me that he is capable of creating a new spell. There were some doubts as to the exact wording, but at the time I had no time to consider them.
'Do you give your magic and power, freely and willingly, and add your might to mine?'
'I do.'
'Do you bind yourself, and promise to come when I call upon you?'
'I do.'
'Good.'
He gave a smile then, and said the closing spell.
Auctoro servus
I felt a pain shoot into my arm, and I fell to my knees, but He held my arm in a grip so tight I thought he might rip it off me. I had my eyes closed in pain, and I think I might have been screaming. The next moment everything went black, but it must have only been for a few seconds because when I opened my eyes I was still on my knees, and my arm was free. On the forearm had appeared his Mark, as Malfoy had showed me. It is a beautiful, if slightly disturbing design. Of more concern to me was the fact that I felt very drained, as though he had sucked several years of my life away.
'You feel a bit faint,' he said, taking my arm and hauling me to my feet. 'That is normal. Go home and rest and you will feel much better tomorrow.'
'Yes,' I managed to mumble. As I left he turned me towards him and said 'I am very pleased to have you among us. I know you will do us proud, Severus.'
I should have felt elated, but I was too tired. In fact I was tired the morning after, and my spellwork felt off for days. I fear if I were to do research into spells of this kind, I might find something I would rather not know. It is too late now. It is done.
But I must know what, exactly, has been done.
Severus Snape.
Harry felt a bit short of breath after reading the account. It was one thing to see Severus do the right thing, but another to understand why he had ever been on the wrong side in the first place. It seemed so simple, the way he described it. Just a bunch of kids, really, becoming enamored by a charming older man who promised change and a chance to write themselves into the history books.
'Harry? You in here?' Ron sounded like he'd rather enter a viper's nest. His voice startled Harry so much several papers flew off the desk.
'I'm here,' Harry said, waving over the stacks of papers in front of him. 'Much good has it done me.'
'You didn't find anything?' Ron eyed the jars and dried out ingredients on the shelves.
'I found an account of the Vow, but no research. The account itself might be useful, though. It has the original spell.'
'Why don't you let Hermione have a look. You know she's better at this.'
'I just...'
'Mate, you need a break, come on.'
'I need to interview Draco again, anyway. I'll drop by and give Hermione what I've found.'
He didn't like the look Ron was giving him as they left Hogwarts. He could guess why his friend was concerned, but he didn't know why this case was affecting him so much – well, he knew part of it. Self-analysis wasn't really his strong suit. Best to leave introspections for his off day, the next of which would be three weeks from now, when Draco was home safe.
Hermione was very interested in Severus' account. All three of them decided to visit Draco right away to question him.
When they opened the door, Harry couldn't help but smile bemusedly. Draco was reclining, propped up in bed half asleep, while Scorpius sat cross-legged at the end of it, head bent over a book as he read.
He looked up when they entered, then glanced quickly to his father, checking if he was awake.
'Mark our spot, Scorpius,' Draco said. Harry didn't like how tired he sounded in the middle of the day.
'What are you reading?' Hermione asked Scorpius, who for some reason bit his lip and looked to Draco as if it was a secret. Draco smiled, and then Scorpius let out a tiny giggle. Harry exchanged a surprised glance with Ron.
'The Witches, by Roald Dahl,' Draco answered. Harry might have heard the name once, but anything else was gone from his mind. Ron had clearly never heard of it, but Hermione's mouth dropped open a bit.
'You're reading a book about evil witches to your son?' she asked, slightly appalled.
'I'm sure they're just misunderstood,' Draco said. Scorpius did not manage to hide his snort.
'Malfoy, you can't be serious. Wait, you're not reading it to him to-' she stopped her said, making a half-hearted gesture. 'You know.'
'I don't know, but I fear I might be able to guess, so no, I am not teaching my son about evil muggles through their misrepresentations of us in fiction.' The last was emphasized with some of his old snotty self, and Harry smiled, while Hermione blushed slightly at having yet again prejudged Draco since their reunion.
'It's just fun,' Scorpius said. 'I love all of Roald Dahl's books, especially the one about the chocolate factory. Father says there's a shop in Hogsmeade that's almost like a Willy Wonka shop, only better cause it's magical. Have you been there?' Scorpius looked at each of them with hopeful eyes.
'Honeydukes?' Ron asked. 'Yeah, they're the best.'
'And the joke shop? The one in Diagon Alley? Father says we can go there when I turn ten.'
'That's enough, Scorpius,' Draco cut in. 'I'm sure Potter and Company have something to tell us, otherwise they wouldn't have visited.'
'You mean Zonko's? That's closed down,' Ron answered, ignoring Draco.
'No, it's called Weasel or something-' Scorpius scrunched up his face to try and remember.
'You've been to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?' Ron asked Draco.
'I'm not confessing to anything while not under oath.'
'He gets all my birthday presents from there,' Scorpius said proudly. Draco closed his eyes and hung his head.
'I've already told you,' Hermione said. 'We are not going to turn your in to the Ministry for owning a few magical artifacts.'
'Oh, ops,' Scorpius said. 'Sorry, Father.'
'Yes, thank you,' Draco told Hermione stiffly. 'Now, if we could get back to whatever it is you wanted?'
'Yes, perhaps Scorpius could wait outside?' Hermione said.
'I'll take him,' Ron said, before producing something from his pocket. 'See here, it's a Weasley Wizard Spinning Top, want to see it fly down the hallway?'
'Yes! Can I try?'
Ron nodded and Scorpius hopped off the bed and flew after him out the door before Draco could protest. He stared, mouth agape after them a moment, before composing himself. Harry couldn't help but think that fatherhood looked a lot better on Draco than anything else ever had.
'I think it's very brave of you to keep the wizarding world in your son's life, considering how-'
'Yes, thank you again, Granger,' Draco cut in. Then he sighed. 'Thank you,' he said, calmer.
'Sorry, I didn't mean to pry-'
'If one more person says sorry or thank you, I might start thinking I'm loosing my mind,' Harry said, speaking for the first time, going for light-hearted, but ending up sounding a bit awkward.
'Agreed,' Draco said, just a shudder, or perhaps a spasm, Harry wasn't sure if he wasn't trying to hide the amount of pain he was in.
'Right, we have found Snape's first-hand account of when he took the vow. Could you read it and tell us how it differed from your own marking?' Hermione handed over the scroll and Draco read it with a grim face.
XXX
Draco sat cross-legged on his bed, wringing his hands. He tried to keep calm, to just make his mind go blank, but the thought that soon he would have to look into those eyes and say "Yes" made it impossible.
He wanted to cry. He could feel the acid burn at the back of his throat, but he couldn't let it out. He didn't think he would ever let himself cry ever again.
He knew with a certainty that was oddly calming that he would not live to old age. It was like a bubbling cauldron in the pit of his stomach. Just simmering really, but he knew it would bubble over at any moment. To know that whatever happened, it would not last forever, that was the only comfort he had.
He wished he could do something, anything, to make time stop, however. He kept replaying Severus' first speech to him during first year. 'Put a stopper on death.' Oh, that it had been time instead. What twaddle, but his young mind had been in awe. It was a deserved irony that he had longed to be grown as child, and now wished all his childish things were real.
The door opened with a creek, far more slowly than it usually opened. Lucius appeared, tired and pale as he always was these days. There was no pride in his eyes as he said 'It is time.'
Draco thought his legs might have fallen asleep from sitting crossed so long, but he stood without trouble. His legs seemed to cross the room without him. Lucius put a hand on his shoulder and steered him down the hallway, as if afraid he might make a run for it.
At the bottom of the stairs a young boy stood, looking half dead. A young man, no more than forty, stood behind him with a proud smirk on his lips. Draco knew him – one of father's business partners – but had never met the boy. He went to Beauxbatons. The Northwodes had sworn off Hogwarts during the fifteenth century.
They were both led to the study. Lucius opened the door wide. The Dark Lord's back was to them, and he was staring into the fireplace. Draco had never seen him so quiet. It was almost more unnerving than when he was screaming and torturing.
'The Northwode boy first,' he hissed softly. The boy stepped forward, and the door was shut. Draco knew there were spells on the door to prevent eavesdroppers, but he could have sworn he heard screaming. After no more than five minutes the door opened again. Northwode was on his knees, clutching his arm and whimpering. The Dark Lord was again turned towards the fireplace. Draco could see his shoulders rise and fall with deep breaths.
'Malfoy now,' he hissed.
The elder Northwode stepped forward and helped his son to his feet, but the boy was almost dead on them. He was half-carried out. As he passed Draco their eyes met, and he saw such terror in them his heart jumped into his throat.
Lucius had to give him a push before he realised he had to enter the room. The door was closed behind him. The Dark Lord breathed in deeply, then turned. Draco had to drop his gaze the second those red eyes hit him. He felt the usual prickling along his neck. His palms were sweating.
'At last, young Malfoy,' the Dark Lord hissed. 'You are deemed worthy to formally pledge yourself to me.'
Draco wasn't sure what to say, and was scared to death of saying the wrong thing, so he kept absolutely still.
'This is a very proud day for your father. To see you follow you in his footsteps.'
"I follow him only to share his grave," Draco thought, regretting it immediately and Occluding his mind fiercely.
'Yes, My Lord,' he managed to say.
'Hold out your arm.'
Draco's arm was shaking quite badly, but the Dark Lord did not seem to care. He drew his wand and placed the tip on Draco's forearm, right where the Mark would appear. It occurred to Draco this was the last time he would look at his arm untainted, and so he almost vainly drank in the sight of his unblemished skin.
'Auctoro probare,' the Dark Lord intoned. A flow of magic entered Draco's arm. He felt it coiling around his every nerve. It wasn't painful, it just was. His breathing sped up.
'Do you give your magic and power to me, freely and willingly, now and forever?'
'Y-yes.'
The mistake did not anger the Dark Lord. He merely corrected him. 'You must say I do.'
'I do.'
The Dark Lord then raised his own arm, thin and white. There was a Mark upon him as well. Draco had not known the Dark Lord had his own. It wasn't the same, he realised distantly. There was no skull, only a snake. It sprang to life suddenly, circling round the small space of the Lord's arm, as if ready to strike.
'Do you accept this binding upon you, and accept its terms?'
'I do.'
'Auctoro medeis.'
The snake struck, springing from the Dark Lord's arm straight across to Draco's.
Every nerve the Dark Lord's magic had ensnared suddenly caught fire with pain. Draco cried out, falling to his knees, but his forearm was as welded to the tip of the Dark Lord's wand. It burned so harshly he was sure his skin would sizzle. He must have closed his eyes or blacked out, for he could never recall actually seeing the Mark appear.
When the pain stopped he felt as though his bones were twice as heavy. He swayed, but had the sense to look down at his arm. The Mark glistened back at him, the snake finding its home inside the skull, making his stomach turn at the sight.
He heard the door open, and then Lucius was lifting him up. He knew he was walking somewhere. Up the stairs. The arm in front of him didn't feel like his arm anymore.
'You'll feel tired for a few days at least,' Lucius said. 'It will pass.'
'No, it won't,' Draco whispered. Lucius left him in his room, where he passed out.
XXX
'There are a few distinct differences,' Draco said stiffly when he had finished reading Severus' account. 'The spell wording, for one. The first incantation is the same, but the second replaced servus with medeis.'
'Slave with magic,' Hermione whispered, frowning heavily.
'The pledge is slightly different. I can write it down for you. Then there is the Mark itself. It did not simply appear on my arm.' This caused both of them to furrow their brows. Draco had to close his eyes a moment in case he accidentally looked down at the snake and found it moving. It hadn't moved since the last time the Dark Lord had summoned them, but he would often have terrible dreams about it and the marking. Sometimes he would simply be standing in the kitchen doing the dishes and he would jump ten feet in the air because he thought he saw it move out of the corner of his eye.
'Can you tell us how?' Harry asked softly. Draco opened his eyes, realising he must have been silent for a while. He shifted in his seat, feeling his palms starting to sweat. There was a reason no one spoke about the marking. No witnesses.
'It was on the Dark Lord's arm first,' Draco said. 'It jumped to mine. Then the skull appeared, though I didn't see that.'
'Why didn't you see it?' Potter asked.
'I was a bit busy howling in pain,' Draco said.
'It jumped?' Granger sounded horrified at the idea. Potter looked a bit green. Draco's arm lay dead at his side. He would not look. He would not look. But it was right there, bared to the world. He could tell they were trying their hardest not to look.
Eight years he had spent trying to get out of the grave he'd made for himself. It was all coming undone.
'Is there any chance of seeing the memory-'
'No,' Draco gasped. The thought of focusing on the memory to the point of being able to extract it was unbearable. The thought of others seeing it as vividly as he recalled it, was doubly so.
'No one else has let us either.'
'I'm hardly surprised,' Draco spat. He couldn't look Potter in the eye, knowing the Hero was probably disappointed. Well, Draco wasn't going to be a Gryffindor about that.
'We understand,' Potter said. 'It's difficult. If you change your mind, let us know.'
'So, it jumped from his arm to yours at the second incantation?' Granger asked for clarification. Draco nodded.
'And then your felt pain?'
'The magic burned into my nerves,' Draco said. 'I must have blacked out for a second. Then Father was leading me back to my room.'
'Did you feel tired, like Snape?'
'Yes, just as he described. I don't think...' Draco closed his eyes again. It was like his arm was itching, like the snake was slithering all over it. He would not look! 'I don't think I've ever felt quite the same again.'
'How do you mean?'
'I don't know. It's probably just a mental thing. It's just always-' There. It was always right there. His eyes blinked open for just a fraction of a second, completely involuntary. It was enough for all his old terror to come back full force. He pressed his hand over the Mark, whimpering, biting his lip hard to keep from screaming. It was under his hand, squirming. He pulled at the skin, twisting it, then rubbing and scratching at it.
'Draco, here, drink.' Granger pushed his shoulder firmly back into the bed. He grabbed the potion and swallowed, closing his eyes and gulping it down. He discarded the bottle and just lay breathing. The calming potion worked quickly, but he knew it wouldn't last long with his level of resistance. He hadn't taken a calming potion in years. It felt like a defeat.
'Shit,' he said. He felt tears slipping out, but feared it would draw more attention to them if he wiped at them, so he kept completely still. 'Sorry about that. I sometimes- well, not for a long time, actually.'
'It's OK, Draco, we shouldn't have pushed,' Granger soothed. She had a rather good healer voice, he thought. 'I'm so sorry.' He ignored that.
'I should probably not have drunk that calming draught,' he confessed, because if he didn't tell her straight away he might not, and that would be very, very stupid of him.
'You needed it,' Granger said. Draco feared she might pat him or something.
'No- Yes, but I usually stick to pure doxy ginseng these days,' he said. 'It's effects are less... cumulative.'
'Oh, OH,' Granger finally got it. 'Right, well, I'll note that in your chart.'
'We should let your rest now.'
'Get Scorpius,' Draco said, suddenly burning with a desire to have him close. Potter said he would right away and hurried outside. Granger suddenly stepped closer.
'That was a very brave thing to do, to tell me of your addiction.'
'I know what would happen if I didn't,' Draco said. He would never like the word brave, but he couldn't find it in himself to insult her for expressing her opinion.
Scorpius came running into the room, but stopped short at the sight of Draco. He tried to sit up a bit, tried to not look quite so wretched, but in the end he gave up and just held out his arms. Scorpius hurled himself up on the bed and into Draco's arm. He squeezed him tight.
'Are you OK?' Scorpius asked, peaking up at him. 'Did they do something to you?'
'No, just bad memories. Nothing to worry about. I took a calming draught. I'll be fine in a little bit.'
'We'll leave you, try and get some rest,' Granger said.
Weasley was at the door, looking like he wanted an explanation. Draco wondered how the two would word what had happened. He tried not to think about the three of them discussing him. He held Scorpius tight and scooted a bit down so they could lie comfortably.
'I love you, Father,' Scorpius whispered.
'I love you,' Draco told him, squeezing a bit for emphasis. Scorpius sounded afraid, and Draco hated that. For the first time he thought about what would happen if three weeks really wasn't enough. Who would take care of his little boy?
