Title: Carpe Draconis
Author: Aoife Malfoy
Pairing: H/D
Rating: NC-17 for violence and language
Genre: Angst, Action/Adventure
Warnings: AU, No HBP Spoilers. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era
Disclaimer: Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.
Beta: the wonderfu micolerose
Summary: Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?

Act X

Vincit omnia veritas.

Truth conquers all.

Voldemort watched the writhing man with avid fascination, a mixture of pure bliss and great malice flittering through his red eyes. An hour had gone by and still he was relentless in his torture. He was greatly displeased by Lucius' failure, which came at the heels of Voldemort's having to rectify his last one. Needless to say the Dark Lord's patience with the blonde had grown thin, which is why Lucius was still writhing violently on the hard floor. His body was thrashing wildly, his skin bruising and scraping against the jagged ground, blood starting to seep from the vicious cuts. The Dark Lord smiled at such an enticing sight. The magnificent red of Lucius' pure blood staining the stark contrast of his pale bone white skin. It was marvelous! There was no such better artistry than the heady mix of beauty and pain. Even as a child, he had loved breaking his toys, almost as much as he did acquiring them. He was always utterly fascinated by the bending and twisting of plastic limbs and the satisfying snap of synthetic material breaking. It was always one of his few treasured childhood memories. Approaching footsteps shook him from his reverie and he smiled sardonically at the man who had immediately knelt before him.

"Ah, Severus. There you are." Voldemort greeted the kneeling man with a predatory smile.

"My Lord. I came as soon as you called." Severus intoned evenly, although inside he was crowing like a happy pig in the mud at the sight that had greeted him when he'd stepped inside the chamber. Cruciatus had never looked so good as when applied to Lucius Malfoy. Serves you right you foul, loathsome bastard! Severus thought viciously.

"Did you?" Voldemort asked with cocked eyebrow. "Did you really? I bet you had to ask permission to take your leave from the old fool."

Not liking where this was going one bit, Severus struggled to find a good way of answering. "To keep appearances, I had to, My Lord. It was the only way I could keep my position secret so I can still be able to serve you."

Smiling darkly, Voldemort advanced towards the dark bowed head. He wordlessly ended the curse on Lucius and ignored the tortured man's hoarse gratitude as he came to a stop before his spy. "I wonder, Severus, if that is such the case. The brat was your godson, was he not? Perhaps you stayed a bit later to check up on the traitor? Perhaps that is what kept you." He smiled dangerously at the prostrating man. "Didn't you care for him? Perhaps you even knew of his choice and did not turn him in?" His voice had dropped down to a malevolent hiss at the last question.

Struggling not to blanch visibly at the naked accusation in the Dark Lord's red eyes, Severus tried to think of a way to diffuse the situation. Hell and damnation! He didn't know the bloody tables would be turned on him! "I cared for him as a child out of duty. He has never been anything but a means to an end, Master. I have no loyalty to the spoilt brat. His arrogance has always grated my nerves and I am more than enraged to have suffered his existence for nothing." Severus lied deftly, immediately putting up his mental shields wandlessly. He had to be careful, constructing them in such a way that it didn't make the Dark Lord suspicious by their strength but making them sturdy enough to cover his tracks. And this was why, when Voldemort made to enter his mind, he was ready. He didn't survive more than twenty years as a spy without learning a thing or two.

With a twisted smile on his thin lips, Voldemort lifted his wand with great malice and said, "We'll see about that. Legilimens!"

Severus stiffened at the invasion, no matter how ready he was for it. It was a peculiar kind of torture to have your mind entered as brutally as the Dark Lord had a penchant for doing. He haphazardly rifled through his memories, stopping and enjoying the painful ones. Severus opened his mind to the violation. Gently coaxing Voldemort's search into more ambiguous memories rather than the tender ones he had of the boy. He focused solely on the moments when he truly did feel exasperation and irritation for the boy because he really was as stubborn and arrogant as his father at times. It always drove him insane when the boy would copy his father's tone and demeanor. It always irked him that the boy had made for such a perfect minute version of Lucius. One was bad enough! It also helped that he had distanced himself from the boy as he grew older. It hurt to do so but it was the best thing to do and his decision, no matter how painful, was the right one because it saved him now from a similar appointment with the hard ground like the one Lucius had just endured.

"You speak truth. That is a wise decision, Severus." Voldemort intoned with a thin smile at the gasping man. As always he had left the man's mind with such force that it sent Severus sinking further down on his knees from the violence of his exit.

"Of course, Master." Severus managed to choke out painfully, his mind still reeling from the force of the impact. "I live only to serve your needs."

"Good." Voldemort smiled maliciously, his red eyes glinting with terrifying mischievousness. "Because I am in need of your particular services. I need you to use your position at that loathsome school and stay close to the brat. Draco is young and still very much impressionable; he is not lost to our cause yet. I expect you to succeed where Lucius has failed. Can you do that?" He smirked as he fingered his wand delicately and Severus fought down the urge to swallow nervously at the sight that signified the beginning of most torture sessions.

"If it's my master's will, it shall be done." Severus answered evenly, his thoughts whirling with a thousand different implications of his new mission. How could he save Draco if he was the one being used to lure him back into the dark? This would need some strenuous planning and maneuvering.

"Good. I trust in your abilities, Severus. Do not fail me. You know intimately the price of doing so." Voldemort warned flippantly as he turned his back on the man, dismissing him in such a way while he returned to his seat.

Struggling not to breathe a sigh of blessed relief at having miraculously escaped the pain of Cruciatus, Severus hastily stood up, bowed once more and began to take his leave. He was almost out the door and away from the horrid place when a dark voice stopped him in his tracks.

"And if you fail, Severus. If you do not bring him back into the fold. Kill him. Traitors do not live. You know that better than anyone. If there is even a hint of one amongst my ranks, they should be dealt with mercilessly. So if he cannot be turned-" Voldemort smiled darkly as he turned his head to watch Lucius take in the news. "Kill him by rites of Juddeca."

Red eyes narrowed shrewdly as he examined his weakened right hand man and was intrigued to find only confusion there. Sneering, Voldemort turned back quickly to the departing man. "Oh and Severus, never keep me waiting again. Crucio!" He smiled as he watched his spy writhing in pain with avid fascination.

"Yes, of course, my Lord." Severus managed to bite out after his master had lifted the curse, leaving at a quicker pace, lest the bastard detain him again for Merlin knows what else.

Sharp cruel laughter resounded in the desolate chamber as Voldemort chuckled in amusement at Severus' abrupt departure. The always sinister and somber man had all but turned on his heels and run away with his tail tucked in between his legs. He shook his head wryly, his Death Eaters never failed to amuse him. He rose from his chair and without a second glance to the blonde that was still supplicated and twitching before his chair, he left the room.

Lucius could hardly restrain himself from breathing a sigh of relief as the Dark Lord left the room, finally assured that his torment was thankfully over for today. It was doubly hard to occlude his mind from his master's all seeing gaze and he was sure if the Dark Lord had stayed a second longer, his tumultuous thoughts about the whole situation would have come tumbling out and that would simply not do. It was really a credit to his strict upbringing that Lucius, even in his weakened state, was able to mask any reaction towards the order to kill his son like a traitorous pig. It would not do to give away his feelings towards the mission because he knew that it would dictate the terms of his punishment. Whether by lengthening it with more sessions under Cruciatus or end it completely with a Killing Curse. He hadn't worked this long for the Dark Lord without learning the subtle signs that indicated his master's mood. His lord was testing him and he didn't know enough right now to decipher what the correct reaction was that he needed to display.

Inwardly, however, he was furious. His pride stung painfully from the blow of having Severus clean up the mess that was his son. His fury was sparked even more by that smug vindictive look in the bastard's eye that he caught while he was writhing pathetically on the ground. How dare the half-blood be amused by his torment! He had shared what others might consider a friendship with the dark haired man before, because they were often forced to work closely, but that had diminished over the years. Especially after the Ministry trials when all of them were force-fed Veritaserum like ordinary ruffians while he stood on the side watching calmly, forever shielded by that senile old bastard. Lucius had never quite gotten over the fact that he had to be led into trial like some common mongrel while Severus had gotten off scot-free with a mere word from Dumbledore. Suspicion and envy had taken root back then and it flared anew once more. The wily bastard was once again walking away from him as Lucius lay battered and beaten whilst he retained the favor of their lord and now the life of his son.

His eyes glinted malevolently as he pondered this new development. Severus would not have the upper hand for long. He sure as hell would not be the judge that held the balance to his son's life. Only he had that power, not some shifty old spy whose allegiances have been called into question more than once. Only he should have the power over Draco and Merlin help those who took that away. Disowned or not, Draco was still his. Draco may no longer be a Malfoy, but he would not be anyone else's either. Pity that Severus will have to learn that the hard way. He smirked widely as he collected himself carefully. There was much planning to be done for him to get back into the good graces of the Dark Lord. He ignored staunchly the fact that by acting this way, he was actually actively going against Voldemort in order to protect a son he had disowned. He ignored it even more when the pain that had settled in his chest ever since he left Hogwarts that morning loosened a little because of it. He was not doing this because of any wishy washy sentimentality over the boy! He sneered as he walked stiffly away. Severus Snape would soon regret going against Lucius Malfoy. No one takes what is his.

Meanwhile back in a warded room of the Infirmary at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Draco smirked so hard, he thought his face would break as he heard the Gryffindor's smashing defense for his intrusion. "Oops? Why, Potter, even as livid as I am right now, I can't help but be amused by your subhuman conversational skills! Tell me does being this incompetent come naturally to you or do you have to work at it?" He said scathingly.

Harry, for his part, could only stutter vaguely in response. His eyes still glued to the drops of glistening sweat that were traveling slowly down hard planes of slick pale skin that had mesmerized him enough to stupidly let his guard down. He licked his lips unconsciously, his cheeks tinting with a violent blush as he tried to will his thoughts and eyes away from the erotic sight. Get a fucking grip! What the bloody hell are you doing, just staring at him like a sodding idiot! He berated himself inwardly as he tried to get his bearings. Say something! Anything! And for god's sakes stop drooling! You are not turned on by this at all! You are just faint from this emotionally exhausting day which is why you feel this –er- moved by Draco. His inner voiced reassured him as he searched for a way to regain his composure. Why the hell did he ever think sneaking in invisibly with Madame Pomfrey after he had heard Draco screaming was a good idea?

He had been conversing with the nurse when they first heard the screams coming from Draco's warded door and both of them had hastened to the room. However, just as they were about to reach the door, Madame Pomfrey had turned to him and strictly forbade him from entering. He should have listened then. Even more so when Hermione and Ron had protested against it but the pain filled screams that were still emanating from the closed door had tugged mysteriously and viciously at his heart. He had to figure out what was wrong with Draco. He couldn't stand idly by a second time as the Slytherin was assaulted and tortured before him once more. So, summoning his cloak, he quickly stole inside the room, ignoring the protests that were being shouted at him in his wake.

The screaming had stopped, thank Merlin, when he'd stepped into the room and he smiled when he heard Draco's usual requests and demands. He never thought he'd see a day when he'd be glad to see that infuriating smirk but there it was. He was relieved that Draco felt better enough to be his usual bratty self. He was about to leave the room. Really, he was, but then the sight of that sword, and how Draco had held it, piqued his interest. He'd never seen joy in the boy's face, not even a genuine smile. So he was more than fascinated when he saw it in the Slytherin's face now. The smile smoothed the hard lines of his face and made him seem even more beautiful and delicate. But the real difference was in the eyes. No more the color of cold, steel grey but one of luminous, sparkling silver. And then…then he raised that sword and from his very first swing, Harry was ensnared. He marveled at a side of the Slytherin he had never seen before. One that was not only marked with elegant grace but also fused with a deep passion and unrelenting drive that left him breathless. He had never seen Draco so consumed and so lost in the moment as he was now. Not even in their most grueling Quidditch matches. He couldn't have turned away from the sight even if Voldemort himself had used Imperio on him. But he should have! He knew that stealing another glimpse like this would infuriate the blonde beyond belief and Draco didn't need this added aggravation! He resolved to make this up to the blonde if he was able to live through his wrath right now, that blade of his was looking awfully dangerous.

After proceeding to virtually rip the bastard a new one, Draco had stopped his tirade when he realized the fucking knob wasn't even listening to him. Enraged by this and irked beyond belief that his peace was disrupted for the third sodding time in the last forty eight hours by the Boy Who Lived to Perv on him, he decided to retaliate the only way he knew how. If his words wouldn't reach the git, his blade would.

"Look, Draco! I'm sorry alright! Merlin! Watch it with that sword!" Harry cried out as he took a step back, barely dodging a particularly vicious thrust from Draco.

"You watch it, Potter! Because when I'm done, I'll be skewering you with it!" Draco spat viciously, unappeased in the slightest by Potter's spluttering apology. He had been looking for a way to relieve his tumultuous feelings and if the git was stupid enough to disrupt the one activity that was allowing him to do this then so be it! He'd exorcise his demons on the Gryffindor instead!

"Whoa! Take it easy! Look, I'm sorry I snuck up on you like that. I didn't mean anything by it honest!" Harry protested as he dropped and rolled to his left to miss another attack. He was increasingly becoming worried as Draco's thrusts grew more dangerous. Was the blonde really trying to kill him?

Draco smirked as he advanced on the retreating Gryffindor once more, inwardly crowing at the hint of fear in those emerald eyes, instantly becoming addicted to that look. Perhaps this was the reason why Voldemort liked to go after this boy so much, if only to see such a sight of jarring intensity. Those emerald eyes held a sliver of fear as the brunette dodged the continuous assaults but it also burned with bright defiance. Draco had never seen it before and it intrigued him, a combination of strength against weakness which was strangely beautiful. And cornering Potter like this, when the boy wasn't retaliating and merely dodging his attacks made him feel powerful and vulnerable all at once. He didn't understand it and a part of himself didn't want to.

He renewed the viciousness of his attacks. Confusion and anger warring inside him, he should not feel anything but contempt for this boy! Enraged at himself for being momentarily disarmed by the rush of emotions that bordered on tender, he delivered blow upon accurate blow on the Gryffindor. Hollowly satisfied by each howl of pain and every thread of blood, he could have gone on for hours but the boy's unresponsiveness galled him to an abrupt stop. "Why aren't you fighting back? Fight me!" He screamed angrily, livid that the boy would deny him this. Their fights were always a good fallback. Why wouldn't the bastard cooperate?

"Because you need this." Harry rasped out painfully as he winced at the pain of the cuts that marred his arms. They were shallow ones and he thanked Merlin for that. "Because I owe it to you."

"You owe me a lot of things, Potter, but you've never indulged me before so why the hell start now? Get your sword! We'll have a proper wizard's duel. This time with swords like proper aristocrats, although that description could never be applied to you. Nevertheless, you're the only one who's here so you'll have to do. Come on now. Get you sword, the one everybody says Gryffindor gave you in Second year, you flashy bastard! Let's fight like real men!"

Harry shook his head sadly, seeing accurately through Draco's anger. "No. I won't fight you. Not like this."

"Why?" Draco snarled, livid at being denied. "Why the fuck not? This is what enemies do, you stupid prick! We fight. Now I have a sword and you don't, so run along and get yours. I know this might be an unfair fight since your little dog didn't have enough time to teach you how to use a sword like a real man but I'm willing to be gracious. I'll even give you an advantage." Draco taunted snidely.

"Shut up about him! Leave him out of this!" Harry spat as he balled his fists. The mention of Sirius still stung after all these years and a slight on his godfather never failed to spark his temper and the bloody Slytherin knew that full well. He forced himself to calm down. Rising to the git's bait would not help matters, neither would getting into a duel right now. As irritating as Draco was being, he still needed to be conscious of the blonde's feelings. He was going through a rough ordeal.

Smirking at the visible anger on the Gryffindor's face, Draco continued to mock him, his heart soaring at finally getting a reaction. Maybe then the idiot would fight him and things would finally get interesting. Maybe then he'd get some damned honest answers for once! "Aww. Is the poor Gryffindor sad about losing his dog? Does he want to cry? Believe me, Potter, that's only the first of many. Although you might have gotten used to it by now, after all your parents did die for you! The people around you drop like flies. I wonder who could be next? The Mudblood maybe? Or perhaps the Weasel King and his family? "

"I said shut up!" Harry snarled once more as he repeatedly told himself that decking the annoying blonde would be a bad idea. He has just been through hell. You shouldn't take anything he says seriously! He warned himself as he reigned in his temper.

"I don't get how anyone would want to follow you! Chosen one, indeed! You can't even save your dog! How the hell can you save anyone else? How can there be anything special about you? Your facial scar? If I jab my forehead would that make me famous too? Eh Potter?" Draco sneered and spat with so much hate that it took Harry aback.

"Look, I didn't ask for this!" Harry began to protest but Draco cut him off.

"I don't even care if you did! Just tell me what all of your lot has been avoiding! Why am I in this Infirmary? Who hexed me? Why can't I leave?" Draco asked firmly, his voice angry but it was tinged with a hint of desperation that clawed at Harry's heart. He was opening his mouth to finally break down and tell the blonde. Everything be damned when he heard something that halted his words.

"I'm tired, Potter. I've just been hexed to hell and back. I don't have time for your half truths or your graceless attempts to dodge my questions. Everyone has been doing that and I'm sick of it! So for once in your life, stop being difficult and just do as I ask. Tell me what happened." Draco said tiredly, his face drawn and his tone weary.

Then a deep sigh, a choked breath and finally a barely audible whisper.

"If only father was here, he would make it better."

And just like that Harry forgot the building anger that was close to blinding him. It weakened his resolve and left him reeling in confusion. How could he tell him now? He realized begrudgingly that this must be the reason why Dumbledore was quick to hide Lucius' actions from his son. He berated himself a little for his appalling lack of faith in the old wizard, but not too severely. After all, forgiveness takes time and he still couldn't find it within himself to fully welcome the well-meaning man into his life once again. He sighed as he surveyed the blonde who was waiting for his answer impatiently, his face an unreadable mask and his hands gripping his sword so hard, his knuckles were white. He couldn't stomach lying to him now but he didn't have the heart to tell him the truth either. He breathed deeply as he gathered his fabled Gryffindor courage and plundered ahead. He looked Draco firmly in the eye and said, "I don't know why you trust my honesty for this but I'm glad you do. And having experience with being lied to most of my life, I can appreciate what you're going through so rivals or not, enemies or not, I will tell you. But keep this in mind, Draco. I will tell you the truth. All of it. And you know better than anyone that sometimes the truth hurts more than anything. So think about it first."

Harry moved closer to the boy, examining luminous grey eyes that for once were alive with flittering emotions. Captivated by the rare sight, he whispered softly,

"Be careful what you wish for."

Perrectum.