Chapter Eight: Sectumsempra

"Kreacher and Dobby couldn't tell me anything more than I already knew. Draco said nothing to anyone about what was bothering him, though even the house-elves could see something was wrong with him. He didn't do anything that could have given away what it was either."

Hermione listened as the Wizengamot steered Harry on to the next event in his narration. She already knew what it was: the use of the Felix Felicis to regain Slughorn's memory for Dumbledore. It occurred to her that she could guess what Harry was going to say. How he didn't want to help Dumbledore, but he had to, or else it would be suspicious.

It was surprising that Harry hadn't lied to them about what had happened when he got the memory, but Harry explained that he hadn't needed to. They already knew about the Felix Felicis, and it was a better strategy to intermingle his lies with the truth when trying to distract them from his true purpose.

Hermione had to admit that it was a strategy that had worked well.x

"Still, it bothered me that they were too close to finding the truth. One thread out of place, and the web would unweave, and I couldn't have that," Harry explained in a monotone, and Hermione gulped as she began to realize what he was talking about. "I had to add another layer to my web; another distraction for them to see."

"He's talking about Ginny," Hermione murmured, feeling sick.

"It came to me when Hermione told me that Ginny and Dean had split up. I debated it all day, during Charms class, and when Ron was mentioning that we should make more Felix Felicis to have a stock of it. Even as I found 'Sectumsempra' written in my potions book while looking up the Felix Felicis recipe, I was thinking about it. I didn't particularly want to use Ginny as that screen – it would be a hassle to appear to like her. But it would be the most effective cover. I decided that I would need to think more on it later, because finding out what was wrong with Draco took priority."


Harry tore the letter he'd just read in two, letting the pieces fall to the floor of the Chamber of Wisdom. Voldemort was telling him nothing. There was something other than that plan – whatever it was – which involved the Cabinet, but Voldemort would say nothing about either plan. Should not he know? Should not Voldemort trust his heir enough-

Harry stopped, his gaze returning to the letter. That was it, wasn't it? Voldemort didn't trust him, even if he'd been named his heir. There was some other hurdle he hadn't yet jumped; some other trial he hadn't yet faced. And only when he had passed that test would he know the information he sought.

Harry growled, lightning flashing around his fingertips. How was he supposed to protect Draco if he didn't know what he was protecting Draco from?! There was something wrong, both Draco and Voldemort's behavior confirmed it…

Wait…

Draco, Harry realized with a shudder. That was it! He's using Draco to test me, to make sure I don't sway from the darkness back to the light. And because he can't tell me, it's tearing Draco apart to provoke me like this. That is what is ailing Draco. That's why Draco is acting so strangely, so secretively. He knows I wouldn't lash out against him, yet that's what Voldemort wants me to prove. He wants me to show him that I'm more loyal to him than to Draco, which of course would be a lie. But, Harry's eyes narrowed and he could feel the transition to his true eyes' shape through his magic, if that's what it takes then I'll do it. Lying is a small price to pay.


The Marauder's Map showed that Draco was in the boys' bathroom, accompanied by Moaning Myrtle. What would he be doing with Moaning Myrtle? Harry wondered as he walked, staring at the Map until he crashed into a suit of armor.

He quickly cleared the Map and slipped into the shadows of the castle, his footsteps fading into silence as he descended one floor down to where Draco was. Soundlessly, he pushed the door open to hear Draco's words, choked by his own tears.

"I can't do it…. I can't…. It won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me…."

Harry fought with a flicker of rage that pooled in the pit of his heart at the blond's words. How dare Voldemort threaten Draco with his life, just to force him to test Harry's loyalty? This would stop, and Harry would end it here. He would not have Draco used against him, and Voldemort would know it.

With a shudder, Draco looked up to see the rage seething in owl eyes behind him, and knowledge sparked in his own. Harry knew, despite the fact that Draco had been cursed not to tell him; Harry had figured it out.

Draco wheeled around, and jumped away from the streak of lightning which pulsed from between Harry's fingers. Scylla stepped calmly away from his own curse, as if sidestepping a puddle on a rainy day, small sparks emanating from his body. Draco knew that if it came to it, Harry would use everything available to him, would hit him with all his inner magic. And, though he was strong, Draco doubted he could withstand such power. He had to force Harry to use a spell - one more easily controlled than his inner magic.

The lightning pooled around Harry's features as Draco, his face contorted, cried, "Cruci-"

Something snapped in Harry's face, and his wand was finally brought upward as he screamed: "SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Even as the blood poured from Draco's face and chest, he smiled slightly at Harry, staggering back and falling to the floor. He didn't move, his wand falling from limp fingers.

Harry blinked, watching the soft grey lines of Voldemort's magic slip away from Draco's body. He nearly sighed in relief before he was struck with a horrifying thought; there were only two reasons why Voldemort's magic would have lost its hold on Draco: if he was finally satisfied with Harry's loyalty, or if Draco himself was dead.

"No-" Harry gasped as he scrambled towards Draco. Draco couldn't die! He had to live through this! Harry had used his wand in hopes that it wouldn't be such a powerful spell!

He barely heard Myrtle shrieking "MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!" as he cradled the broken body to his chest, hoping vainly that Draco would do something to show he was still living.

The door banged open behind Harry, and Draco was roughly removed from his arms. Harry blinked on reflex, losing the owl-like eyes as Snape worked on healing the cuts. His mental shields slammed up around his mind as he remembered Draco's words to him. They couldn't trust Snape, even if Voldemort did, until the true battle finally started, and they could see where Snape's loyalty truly lay. Snape could not know of his connection to Voldemort before any of the other Death Eaters did.

Harry let his relief show through as Snape helped Draco to the Hospital Wing, remaining at the same spot he'd been when Snape had entered. Draco would live. He would now somehow have to deceive Snape, but Draco would live. And that would be worth whatever effort he had to exert now. He looked up as Snape re-entered the bathroom, molding his shields to look like the half-created boundaries that the Harry Potter that Snape knew would use.

"Apparently I underestimated you, Potter," he said quietly. "Who would have thought you knew such Dark Magic? Who taught you that spell?"

Voldemort. "I – read it somewhere." Harry almost allowed himself to smile behind his shields. He would dance around the truth, allow Snape to have his suspicions about his Potions book, even accept the detentions Snape was sure to give out. It wouldn't matter in the long run. He would go to visit Draco that night, and he would remove Draco's Dark Mark himself if he had to and replace it with his own.


Harry endured Hermione's lecture, annoyance building in his mind. They were taking away time he could have been spending with his Furies, planning what was to be done. The Centaurs would certainly know how to remove the blood magic that Salazar had left his descendant, and, if they did not know, then Hedwig would. And the Gryffindors were only slowing the process down with their arguing and lecturing.

He vaguely heard Ginny speak in his defense and begin arguing with Hermione. He added a mental note that he might want to further this blind following of Ginny's. It could be useful for distracting the Gryffindors. Why hadn't he thought of this before? It would keep everyone removed from his true affair with Draco. And, best of all, it would stop Hermione's long lectures, if he could stomach having Ginny hanging off him while she argued with Hermione.

Yes, Harry was feeling decidedly light-hearted as he planned his machinations while the other Gryffindors finished up their argument, with Ginny and Hermione glaring off in different directions, for once fighting with each other. This would all fall into place with delightful ease.


The Centaur scouts had returned with good news. The Vampires were interested, and were sending a representative to speak with him. He would be waiting for Harry at a location in the Forbidden Forest he would appoint in three days.

"What do you know of blood bonds, Magorian?" Harry mused, leaning back against a tree. "Most specifically, do you know how an outsider to the bond could remove it?"

"My Lord seeks to remove a Dark Mark," Magorian mumbled, his eyes rising skyward. "This power is that of Apollo, the sun, a very hard thing to mold, even harder to break; the power of that god who sits on his python skin atop his throne and whom only can be fooled by night. Yet, the Salazar descendant does not allow himself to be cloaked by night's embrace. He worships Luna as Sol and Sol as Luna. You must win over Luna's other forms, Diana and Hecate. From their shrouds, most particularly the dark side of the moon, of Hecate, you will be able to bend the bond of Sol. Look to your father, as well, my Lord, son of Jupiter. His power is more than that of Sol and Luna combined. But, do what you will do quickly. Soon, Jupiter will fade from the morning sky, and Mars will take his place. And, if the Mark is not yours by the coming of the war god, then it will never be. Mars is getting brighter; he tires of his long sleep, and longs for battle. He petitions Hades to open wide the doors of the Underworld, and Pluto will soon be swayed."

"And whose favor does the war god shine upon?" Harry asked, his own eyes rising to the stars.

"That remains to be seen. When he appears brightest in the sky, we will know, and I shall hasten to tell you, my Lord. Pluto, your sire, will favor you. Jupiter, your father, would favor you, but he shall be overshadowed by Mars. Diana may favor you, because Sol will not, but even this remains uncertain by these stars."

Harry nodded. "Very well. I will go speak with Draco. I will return in three days when the Vampire representative is here. Do tell me what transpires in the heavens when I return."

The Centaur leader bowed as his Lord silently disappeared into the shadows. He was truly a Lord worth serving, this boy who could understand the words of those who watched the stars. The Vampires would see what he had to offer them, Magorian was sure of it. Scylla would have no difficulty in winning their loyalty.


Draco was faking sleep when Harry entered the Hospital Wing, and his eyes shot open when Harry traced the scar that he had created upon Draco's neck.

"My poor Charybdis, I should have aimed more precisely," Harry crooned as he gathered Draco's still-weak form into his arms.

"It's fine. You figured it out; that's all that matters."

"I should have realized it sooner. I could see the vines of his magic upon you, but I always assumed it was just the Dark Mark. I should have suspected it was something more obtrusive than the Mark."

"But you did suspect-"

"Too late."

"It wasn't too late. I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Harry fought down the growl that threatened to explode from his mouth. "He should have never threatened you with your life. I won't allow that to happen ever again."

"I wear the Dark Mark, Scylla. Life-threatening is part of its nature."

Harry's eyes narrowed in the darkened room. That would soon be changed; he would make sure of it.

He held Draco until the Malfoy heir had drifted off into true slumber, before carefully disentangling their bodies and crossing to the window. A pale wash of moonlight fell through its panes, and he opened it to the night air.

There was a soft rustle of wings as Hedwig alighted upon his shoulder, responding to his silent call.

"I see the Heir of Slytherin has finally overstepped his bounds," she cooed.

"Yes. I want to remove the Dark Mark from him." Harry paused before changing his statement. "I will remove the Dark Mark from him."

"Of course you will," his owl agreed, and, far over the fields that surrounded Hogwarts, thunder crashed against the sky. "And I will watch over you as you do so."

Harry walked back to the bed, his eyes shifting to their now more natural form. He could see the pale threads of magic that circled the Dark Mark on Draco's left arm.

Heat lightning raced across the sky, and a small trickle of blue static trickled down from his scar like blood. Reaching out, he held Draco's arm and encircled the Mark with his fingertips. His own blue threads flowed down his fingers, chasing the gray threads already there. They clashed, the blue entwining with the gray and stretching out over Draco's skin, like spider threads tossed to the wind.

Draco hissed in his sleep, as the small grey threads were lifted off his skin, one by one, and replaced by blue ones. And he screamed as the very image of the Dark Mark disappeared, only to be replaced by Scylla's Mark, the image of the lightning bold entwined with feathers.

When Madam Pomfrey burst into the room to see what was wrong, Draco was back in fitful sleep, one hand gripping his forearm, as if to hide the blue marking from her.


Draco awoke the next morning to find he was holding his forearm. He remembered screaming during the night, remembered the pain, but he could not understand why. He hadn't thought that the Dark Lord could physically hurt him through the Dark Mark like that, but yet, what else could have happened?

But, as his fingers lifted, and he looked at the skin underneath, his eyes widened, and he looked up, as if expecting Harry to be standing next to him, waiting for approval of his work. Harry was nowhere to be seen, but it was already late in the morning - Harry would be in class. His eyes trailed back down to the blue tattoo, one he had seen Harry place upon the Centaurs, of which he had been envious of them for having. But it was now his as well. He was no longer a Death Eater; he was a Fury of Hades.