A/N--I'm sorry guys, but this is going to be confusing. Italics mean both thoughts and Parseltongue—watch the language carefully if you're confused.
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Ow ow ow owowowowowOOWOWOAHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHH--!
The mindless screech of pain was something truly terrifying to witness, and Draco was withdrawing into his usually Potter-created calm as thoroughly as he could manage. Calm. Calm. Help Potter. Help Harry. Voldemort is here—get it together!
Seeing the world through gray eyes sheened with controlled terror, Draco bolted towards Harry, attempting to restrain the air flow and repeating the movements from so long ago. Come on, Harry. We need you up. You need you up. I need you in general. We need to fight Voldemort, now come out of it, will you!
It wasn't until a long time later that Draco would look back and see the picture he made, but he certainly noticed the effects of it right away. Unlike the previous episode of Voldemort-induced seizure, Harry was not waking up right away, and this time it was happening very publicly. First Draco noticed a subtle silence, which grew into a definitive growl—and when Draco looked up next, he saw he was surrounded by his fellow students, murderous gleams in their eyes.
"GO AWAY!" he hissed at them, but that only fueled their rage. Suddenly Draco realized what was going on as he saw the pairs of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws leading the pack. They had seen his father—and they thought he was killing Harry all over again. Bloody hell, was Draco's last conscious thought, and then he was slithering for his life.
There was no one to help him. The only person whom he had ever in any way relied on was lying on his back in more pain than Draco had encountered in his whole lifetime, which was saying a lot, and the Slytherins were certainly not going to help him out. There was nothing in it for them. Draco screamed in his head for Harry, but knew that this time he would not be there. It was time to pull his own weight in this war, be his own person and make his own decisions. Friendship with Harry had taught him that.
Curling around a plate of armor, Draco took to the air, leaping from one dented, rusted soldier to another. Safer in the air, where he had more agility than the birds and didn't need the speed of racing from on the ground. Blending into the background, retreating to the days when his father had set him to this, made him fly outside when it was wet and rainy and the panther he had released to chase him had not been fed in weeks. His father had planned for the event; sat in a chair, watching indifferently as Draco raced through a forest cleared of all wildlife so that he was the only pray left. Draco had learned to hide and dodge, to fly and climb, to be faster, ever faster, if he wanted to stay alive. It hadn't been his first test of life and death, then, but it had been the longest.
And there, Draco thought, seeing in his mind's eye an army spreading out beneath him armed and ready with wandless magic. He heard them around the corner, Voldemort's army, ready to demolish the crazed swarm chasing him—Draco stopped suddenly. No, this was not the way. He turned abruptly; skidded backward from the beam of wood he was suspended on and flew backwards with even more speed than he had flown forwards. To win this war, for Harry to win this war, he needed all the help he could get.
It was a turning point for Draco, but he hardly noticed. What with the wind whipping against slitted eyes and the predators beneath and around him not even attempting to be silent so as to not be heard, Draco was worried enough about someone else's health not to be disturbed about his own. It was a turning point—but he'd been in the dark-gray shade for a while now, and a few degrees lighter to help out a best friend didn't really seem to make all that much difference.
Draco left them with Harry, all those students ready to kill him to protect their hero instead of helping Harry themselves, and he slid away quietly through their ranks until he was gliding as fast as he could throw himself to his destination. Good thing my palms can't sweat and he can't read an animal's mind, he thought distantly, and then he was swerving through the restless ranks, stationed demurely at Lord Voldemort's feet.
Master. Draco hissed, calm and sure, having being taught thousands of times. His father could be a dark lord in his own right.
Lucius? The sneer came back ruthlessly, and Draco anticipated the coils suddenly wrapped around him and thus didn't respond to Nagini.
Yes. May I beg your apologies for not contacting you sooner.
You may not. The coils wrapped tighter and Draco retreated to his Harry-space.
Yes, Master.
Time stood still for a moment, in which Voldemort silently regarded with red eyes and Draco held his breath. But it passed, and the sigh of relief Draco would have released had he been a normal child was exhaled slowly and methodically.
What news do you have for me? I sensed the dropping of Hogwarts' wards and came. What of Dumbledore?
Dead, Master. Draco stated, his eyes carefully lowered. He didn't know. Who knew what happened to Dumbledore, a feeble white owl devoured by anything, wandless magic or not.
His animagus shape was feeble. That is why I chose this method to infiltrate Hogwarts. I have been loyal, Master.
Hm. Draco heard the edge of scorn and his pity grew for his father still more. We shall see. Why are you in your animagus shape?
Usefulness, Master. I am connected to all of the students at Hogwarts—should I release the animagus spell, they would all become human, and should I not, they will stay animagus. I leave it to your choice to decide how to annihilate the students if you so choose. Draco was amazed at the brilliance of the scheme as it occurred to him. The words flowed as he thought them, and this truly was an almost impeccable scheme of his father's.
Ah. Draco looked up briefly, into narrowed eyes. He shivered slightly—this was not the response he expected. The silence drew on.
Stay animagus. The Dark Lord finally said, and Draco flicked his tongue out.
But call your son.
…
"DRACO!" Harry screamed, awakening with a start to a circle of concerned eyes and frequent glances at something out of his sight. Eyes sharpening, he jumped to his feet just wavering slightly, and looked past the circle of encirclers who were not letting him through. Growling dangerously, he approached the scene—where Draco was attempting to kill a ravaged and dead-looking Dumbledore. Rage, betrayal, but ultimately confusion filled his entire being, and adding Parseltongue to his speech he came between the group holding Draco back and the group of students sheltering Dumbledore. Turning directly towards Draco, he glared at him with all his power and spat out his name, only to be met with burning blue eyes.
Harry stumbled back as if struck, and animals on either side watched anxiously as he blinked. Not Draco. Lucius. Harry looked down the black, writhing and barely-held body, saw it was longer, less black, more sheen to it. Looking back into those eyes, he saw Lucius's fatal flaw—an unrestrained urge to kill. Lucius. Harry's mind supplied, and his eyes narrowed with newfound hatred.
But now was not the time to be hasty. He had his Draco to thank for that, who was nowhere to be seen. What could I use from this situation? Voldemort is here, I can feel him. Who are my allies? The Hogwarts students, and they all think Lucius is Draco. But I'll be losing most of the Slytherins to his side, and they know our situation… ah. Be strong, Draco, wherever you are, because I'm thinking like you and so you'd better save yourself and think like me. We can do this.
Draco, Harry hissed again to all the Slytherins in the hallway, for good measure. He'd be playing two sides now, and had to act according to both.
Draco, Harry hissed in Parseltongue, that is not your job to do. It is mine, and I intend to kill Dumbledore myself, as Lucius Malfoy. Stop struggling. They will not release you, and the old man is almost dead anyway. One strike will do it, and then we can both retreat to Voldemort's army.
And now came the complicated part, Harry thought, as he leapt forward, grasping Lucius in his jaws and coming down an inch from the owl's face. The knowing eyes looked back at him, and even now Harry was unnerved by how much Dumbledore seemed to know. For a second he lapsed back into the thought that all he had to do was sit back and let Dumbledore save him, and then Harry's eyes swept down the small, battered body. His eyes hardened—Dumbledore could not save him now. Nodding his head once, Harry scooped up the owl in his paw, and Dumbledore went limp as if he had been hit. Side one, Harry thought calculatingly, think I just killed Dumbledore. Lucius Malfoy, the wolf that Draco appeared on just two days ago, was in disguise as an animagus, and just saved his son and killed Dumbledore. Thus, I am perfectly loyal on the rebel Slytherin side. I hope I played Draco's father well, as I've only got Draco's reactions to go on—Harry pushed back the part shiver, part self-questioning shifting—but so far all is well.
Side two. Rest of the school. I am Harry Potter, black wolf who just grabbed Draco, to do who knows what with him but be a hero, and accidentally injured Dumbledore when I was saving him. Dumbledore chose the right choice; the Slytherins needed the most convincing. Good. I now have the whole school with me, except those Slytherins that aren't snakes… but they probably aren't loyal to Voldemort. Whole school then, perfect. Draco, where are you?
And then he heard a voice, so quiet in the back of his self-conscious that he hadn't realized he'd heard it before. So quiet, so there—it had been a part of him since day one of his life, when he'd rejected Draco's hand and felt Draco's magic swirl angrily around him. That had always drawn him to Draco. That had always made the both of them meet again and again, when they could have avoided each pointless confrontation. Here, it said.
Draco? Harry asked incredulously, but as much as he waited, frozen, he didn't get a response. React, he told himself firmly, and looking around he took slow steps forward, seeming to the allies surrounding him to be approaching some point very meaningfully. The expectant silence wouldn't last long though. Draco!
Bring…Lucius. It was faint, so faint, and veiled in so many emotions he was amazed he had even heard Draco's quiet voice in his head in the first place. The emotions kept them apart—it was only when they were tightly controlled when they could hear each other. And Harry had never been Slytherin enough to be so, especially surrounded by friends and Ron and Hermione. Coming. He sent back.
Come, Harry said out loud, attempting to make it as heroically wolfish as possible while still speaking the dangerous-sounding Parseltongue. He had not the vaguest clue how it was coming out, but he was getting reactions from both sides so it couldn't be that off. We must return to our Master, Harry added.
Ookay, Harry thought, the weirdness just beginning to sink in. If this is not the weirdest situation I've ever been in. Draco talking in my head, Slytherins following me being Lucius, everyone else following me because I'm Harry Potter, Dumbledore barely alive in my hand—
And that was what really brought Harry to the present. The body of Albus Dumbledore was still in his paw, but the eyes were glazed over, beak curved in a smile just for Harry when he noticed his life had gone. Harry froze. And then he roared.
"VOLDEMORT!"
…
The mad scrabble distantly tearing towards them was not at all what Draco had had in mind when he was focusing on any way possible to call his father. However, it was silenced two hallways down, and the snake emerged into his view looking regal and haughty, so Draco was very much not going to complain, despite the oddness of the approach. He could tell Voldemort was darkly interested in the noises as well, and made quick work to distract him.
My father.
Voldemort turned sharply to look at him, and Draco, horrified, realized his mistake.
Like father like son, two generations in. I see my father so clearly in that boy. Draco added, focusing completely, drawing himself into his father's mind. He had done so many times before. The lapse in concentration was nothing. He was Lucius.
Your father was disloyal. What are you suggesting, Lucius? Draco felt the thrillings of fear even within his father's shell. He would have to be excellent.
Suggesting the immense power required to be disloyal to you, Master.
It is easy to be loyal to me?
Of course, Master. What is difficult is how we can serve you properly.
A sharp bark of laughter, and Draco was free. His eyes closed without his consent, and he was eternally grateful he was not looking at anyone just then. Thank you, Father. Thank you, Draco. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Draco, Master. Draco presented, as soon as Lucius was close enough.
Ah.
"Draco."
Lucius looked up questioningly, and opened his mouth to say something. And Draco was lost again. What could he do now? What should he do? Where was Harry when he needed him—but Draco's thoughts were broken by the next words that exited Voldemort's mouth.
"Avada Kedavra."
…
"NO!" Draco cried, flying away from his position at Voldemort's feet to grovel at his neck. Grovel, yeah right. Voldemort just killed my father! Fangs bit sharply into flesh before either of them could even check their thoughts. And when clarity returned, Draco was almost stunned into oblivion.
AHHH! Draco screeched, dodging frantically. This was so much like the first time, none of the controlled effort he had used up to this point. This was the time when the vine had snagged his wand, and he was wandlessly facing the chimera. This was ultimate panic. AHHHHHH!
But right now he didn't need calm, so Draco gave into the terrified preservation of life than no human should even have to face. He leapt this way, spun that way, avoided jets of light and hands far too big to catch a snake, all the while feeling a slowly settling sense of power. What kind of power? Why am I feeling—AH! Jump, turn, spin again, and there he had it—there's the power. Can I use it right now? Crap, it's already in use! AHHH!
Harry, two halls down, was alert of the cacophony of sound almost as soon as it began. Turning to the terrified pairs all before him, still all present in his balance of power, Harry issued commands first to the majority of the Slytherins;
You are commanded to follow Draco! Voldemort has instructed me to do so, and you are to become his allegiance! Never waver from whatever Draco tells you to do! Harry prayed this was a good decision, to trust in Draco, but as Draco had told him long ago now was certainly not the time to stop. And Draco had done nothing to betray his trust except disappear—but Harry trusted the chaos before him was not caused on its own.
"Everyone else!" Harry directed in wolf-voice, quickly understanding he could not be understood. Grabbing a pair of monkeys by both arms, he mimed he himself having a wand—and them discreetly taking it. Guerilla pairings—steal all the wands!
It took numerous tries for all the students to get it, but between the somewhat common cross-species eventually everyone understood what was going on, and by that time Harry had already sent duos out. Steal all the wands! Get rid of their magic! Animals are harder to hit and have all the natural advantages—the only things humans have is intelligence.
Draco barely twitched when he suddenly had a ring of protective and highly concerned Slytherins around him. I love you, Harry, he praised fervently, and more than at any point in his life, he meant it.
…
The pile of polished wood besides Harry was growing by the second, and he was literally guarding it with his life. A few of the bigger animals stood by him, stomping on anyone chasing a pet-creature with a wand in their mouth, and overall the system was working quite well. Bless a Lord for Draco's elephants.
"That'ssss all of them," Harry heard, when he had bit back a particularly stubborn wizard. Looking down, Harry saw a small, red snake, automatically morphing it into a graceful ribbon of black in his mind's eye. Shaking his head slightly, Harry sent it off and instructed several of the elephants to keep on guarding. Draco had been right about that too—communication was everything.
"Guard the wands!" he called out to everyone who could understand him, and as he was the only wolf snakes quickly transferred the message. War was full on waging, with the more powerful wizards using wandless magic to blast animals out of the way, but as the hallway was narrow the Hogwarts' students numbers were larger. Harry nodded grimly at the group, then faced the wall of wizards and giants and vampires and werewolves before him. He could be like a Slytherin and go around the back way, but in this situation he was a hero, and heroes always shoved through the front.
I'm coming, Draco, he whispered to himself, and then he was fighting through the crowd to get to Voldemort and the teen he probably loved.
A/N—
I just love my cliffhangers, don't I? Well, we're almost done. A shorter chapter here, and an even shorter chapter coming up, bringing an end to this delightfully LONG-lasting story. Enjoy!
