L-Voldemort (L version)
Chapter 10 – Click.
L fell out of his dream heavily, his heart aching with the loss of a fantasy. He shifted, an attempt to get more comfortable but pain shot through his limbs like lightning. A loud groan escaped his lips, which he licked. They tasted metallic and felt crusty. He tried to open his eyes. He cried out with pain as his eyelashes snagged on something, his vision blurry. He could barely make out the shape of a person lying close to him.
"Who...?" he began, but the words grated his throat.
"Masssssster..." a serpentine voice slurred, not too far away.
"Hello?" L whispered, away that he would be speaking Parseltongue. He struggled to push himself into a sitting position. His left wrist felt broken and he could feel something warm and gooey oozing down his face. He raised a hand to his forehead. A flash of white pain coursed through the open wound on his scalp. L came over dizzy. His skull was broken.
"Masssssssster, what do you command?" the snake-like voice repeated.
"Where ... are you?" L gasped, trying to stand up. He staggered to his feet then immediately wished he hadn't. He clutched the nearest column to keep his balance. It was smooth and scaly, dry and moving slightly.
"Bessssside you..."
"What are you?" L gulped, trying to drag air into his lungs. He guessed that some ribs were broken. What the Hell had happened?
"Basilissssssk," the creature hissed, its rancid breath filling L's nostrils. he doubled over, his stomach heaving and emptying onto the stone floor of the bathroom. "Born a thousssssand yearsss ago."
"Syltherin." L choked out the name.
"Yesssss." Another wave of the caustic scent of rotting flesh assaulted his nose. He kept his stomach still this time and coughed to clear his throat. He spat onto the floor.
"What are you doing here?"
"I do my masssster's bidding." L felt the monster shift. He could make out the outline of it, raising its head with pride.
"I, the heir of Salazar Slytherin, am your master. Correct?" L croaked. He swayed weakly, blood trickling from his head into his mouth.
"Yessss."
"Then I command you, monster, to return to your hovel and stay there for another thousand years, until my heir commands otherwise." He let go of the basilisk and stood on his own. He heard it slide away to ... who knew where? Still swaying slightly, L took a step forward. He scanned the room and counted the bodies of people lying on the floor. He thought there was someone missing from the group which had entered the bathroom, but couldn't put his finger on who it would be. Rubble and blood everywhere, the bathroom looked like a war zone.
Vaguely, L registered shouting that sounded like it was coming from far away. The remaining contents of his stomach exploded from his mouth as the door flew open. Someone screamed, but the world was disappearing from L for the third time that day. Aware that he was falling into his own vomit, but unable to stop himself, L collapsed. The wound in his skull split open further and the young detective slipped out of consciousness.
L's eyes fluttered open. He didn't feel any pain. Was he dead? This must be heaven, because he could smell Draco close to him. Fruit-scented shampoo, chocolate and sweat. But it was faint, more like the memory of a smell. He could feel Draco in his arms though, could hear his breath and feel his heartbeat.
L looked down at his friend, who was sleeping. Draco had a bow tied in his blond hair and was wearing a blue dress. That's how it seemed in the moonlight. L's mind cleared and filled with disappointment. This wasn't heaven, but merely the continuation of his dream.
Somewhere in the distance, a werewolf howled.
L's eyes snapped open. His breathing slowed as he focussed on the ceiling. He recognised it. Hospital wing. He licked his lips. They didn't taste of blood. He brought a hand slowly to his forehead. There was no pain in his arm, chest or head. There was a row of stitches in his forehead, down across his brow to his nose. Groggily, he tried to sit up. He was successful.
"Oh good, you're awake," a venomous voice exclaimed; its tone was soft and cold. In a moment of genius intelligence natural to L, the sound of the voice clicked everything into place in his brain. He knew who was behind the Muggle killings. But with a flash of despair, he also realised that he could tell nobody, not even Draco, otherwise the plan forming in his fantastic brain would never work.
L turned sharply and looked the killer in the eyes.
"I know you are the culprit and I will not rest until I have the evidence to condemn you to the Dementors," L told the murderer, flatly. A spark of emotion filled the killer's eyes but vanished quickly.
"That will never happen." The culprit, face emotionless, left without further words exchanged.
L flopped back onto his pillow. He might have fallen asleep but the next thing he knew was Draco's face appearing beside the bed and his heart doing a double-take. This must have brought colour to his cheeks or surprise to his eyes, because Draco smiled and looked away for a second. Then, their eyes met and words were said without being spoken. Emotion flooded L's brain in a way it never had before and he panicked, unsure of what to do with these feelings.
"I talked to a basilisk and fainted into my own vomit," L blurted, his eyes wide, pressing one finger to his bottom lip.
"That's disgusting," Draco replied, small lines appearing above his pointed nose.
"I know," nodded L. Draco shook his head and frowned. His lower lip pushed out, bringing to L the memory of how it felt to rip it with his teeth, the taste of Draco's blood ...
Before he could stop himself, L's hand was wrapped around the back of Draco's neck, pulling him down to the bed. At the same time, L sat up and tilted his head. This kiss was gentle, no teeth or blood; just lips moving together.
Draco sniffed as he sat back in his chair, wiping his eye.
"We were so worried about you."
"We?" Draco quizzed, sitting up properly so he could hunch over comfortably.
"Yeah. Me and the Slytherins. The Gryffindors too." He gestured towards the bedside table where there were several boxes of sweets and a stuffed lion toy wrapped in a minute green scarf. L smiled for the first time that day, but not for the last.
"I've been unconscious a week?" L gasped. It was hard to believe he'd missed that much time. What if more people had been killed? he had the knowledge to stop it. It would take more than a week, to be honest, but even so. The fact that his body had allowed him this much time out of the game disgusted him. "Has there been any more killings?"
"You're this intent on being a detective?" Draco chuckled. "You should be resting, not thinking about killings."
"Just tell me." Draco met L's determined stare with a shrug.
"Okay. There has been another attack on a Mudblood since the last incident, so your name is cleared, if that's what you're worried about."
It made sense, if the murderer knew that L knew the identity ... but who would be framed now?
"Dumbledore's ordered that no students go outside without an escort. So that's all the news for now," Draco concluded. "Do you realise it's the Yule Ball tonight? You'll be sleeping in Slytherin again."
L had not realised this, so the surprise showed on his face. He remembered his dream and started to turn pink.
"What?" Draco asked, his mouth turning up into a smile.
"Nothing," L lied. "Who are you taking to the Ball?" He had been hearing for weeks people asking each other to go to the Yule Ball. He gathered that it was the social convention.
"Nobody. I mean, I was going to ask you, since the whole school knows about us being ... you know." it was Draco's turn to go pink.
"What are you talking about?" L inquired, pressing a finger to his lip.
"Well that night in Gryffindor tower, people saw us, um ... " he gestured towards his mouth. The memory of the taste of blood filled L's mind. He nodded. "So it spread and spread and now rumour has it that we're together. Like, a couple."
"Are we?"
"No. I mean, I don't think so. I mean, do you want to be?"
"I don't know what the convention is with regards to this social situation, so no. But I will go to the Ball with you."
Draco looked away, smiling again, and not for the last time that day.
Sirius woke up a little later that day, having been unconscious just as long as L had. His eyes fell immediately onto the worried, tired face of his oldest friend, Remus. his face split into a grin, but he groaned as the scratches of the wounds on his face stretched.
"It's about time you woke up! You've had me worried sick, I can't believe you ... even ... you silly man! Why couldn't you just get out of the way like the rest of us?" the professor ranted. Sirius simply took hold of his hand and listened until he had calmed down, then said one word.
"Sorry."
Tears started to stream down Remus' face. He wiped them away hastily and thrust a box of Every Flavour Beans into his fiancé's hands. Wordlessly, Sirius ripped into the box, pulled out a handful and stuffed all of them into Remus' mouth. The look of surprise on his face was enough to make Sirius laugh heartily, which in turn made Remus smile, which caused Beans to shower onto the floor from his mouth. Remus moved a hand quickly to his mouth. By now, Sirius was almost crying with laughter.
L looked across from his bed to the other side of the room, where Professor Lupin was making Sirius laugh. It was such a joyful sound that L couldn't help but smile too. At the same time, it caused a pang in his chest as he missed Draco. He loved making Draco laugh like that, even if he didn't always mean to. Was that conventional for couples? Was that what he and Draco were becoming? Perhaps it was just a by-product of a strong friendship and nothing to do with love at all.
As soon as he'd thought the word, it started to work its way into his mind. Love. What was it? Maybe there were some questions best left unanswered for now, L decided.
Madame Pomfrey came bustling by his bed. She prodded him with her wand and looked into his pupils. She checked his stitches then told him he was free to go, and that Professor Dumbledore had requested he change then go to the Great Hall in time for the Yule Ball. With one last glance at the happy couple, who were now embracing warmly, L pushed himself up from his bed and started, for the first time (consciously, at least) in months, towards the Slytherin common room.
L breathed in the scent of the emerald green leather. It was good to be back in Slytherin. He didn't waste any time in getting clean clothes on - a long-sleeved white t-shirt and blue jeans, under his Hogwarts robes - but paused a minute to look at his bed. It was tidy and looked like it hadn't been slept on. L jumped onto it and lay flat on his back, his feet tucked under him so his knees were pointing to the ceiling. He knew he probably wouldn't ever sleep well, but he felt comfortable to lay on this bed. It was a consistency in his life, which - before Hogwarts, anyway - had always been inconsistent.
He considered this for a few moments. Draco was a consistency in his life. He had been there for four years now, but that friendship was changing. Draco was changing. Maybe the Gryffindors, Hermione and the others, maybe they would become a consistency. Than L's train of thought took a detour through the reasons why consistencies were important in the life of a young person, then he began to think about what he'd do after he'd finished at Hogwarts. This in turn lead to him thinking about life before Hogwarts. Was he going to get back to Wammy's, back to where he should be? But was this where he should be?
L's eyes snapped open. He had fallen asleep after all. A quick glance at the window told him the sun was setting and he needed to get up to the Great Hall.
Walking as quickly as he could without pushing himself too far, L made his way out of the dungeons to the Great Hall. From within he could hear music: the Ball had already started. As he was about to push the door open, someone else pulled it from the other side. It was Professor McGonagall.
"Mr Lawliet!" she exclaimed, "I was just coming to find you. I wanted to tell you that the result for your Animagus exam came through." She thrust a sealed envelope at him. L held it delicately between thumb and finger and slid it open. The parchment fell out into his other hand. He held this up and read it rapidly.
"I passed," he declared. He kept his face blank but inside felt the satisfied buzz of doing something correctly. It had been the only possible outcome, with L's brilliance and aptitude for almost everything, though. He handed the letter to the Professor, who read it herself for confirmation.
"Very well. We'll begin your classes when the new term begins." She gestured for him to enter the Great Hall, which he did.
L felt himself tense as he approached the centre of the room. The Triwizard Champions were dancing with their partners while everyone stood and watched. Cedric Diggory was dancing with his Asian girl. Victor Krum was dancing with Pansy Parkinson. The French girl was dancing with someone L didn't recognise. He scanned the crowd for a blond head, but to no avail. He perched on a bench beside Hermione, who was watching one of the dancing couples with an odd expression.
L followed her gaze and watched Krum spinning Pansy around the room. He found his mind fading into a mesmerised trance, the music continuously swaying in the background. Hermione's scent trickled into his nose. She smelled like strawberry shampoo ...
A pair of arms folded themselves around L's middle. His first instinct was that he was being attacked. He spun round, his palm tucking straight under the chin of the attacker, his foot pressed against the attacker's stomach. Without the recognition and relief that came from seeing the familiar pointed, drawn face, L would have paralysed Draco in seconds.
L burst out laughing at the shocked expression on his friend's face. "Sorry Draco, it was a reflex."
"For God's sake man," Draco huffed, pulling L into a hug. The music ended, and a smattering of applause rippled round the room. Hermione and the Gryffindors turned away from the dance floor, noticing L and Draco for the first time. Hugs were shared, and Draco slipped away to talk to Pansy.
"Hey L," Harry began, "I know it's ages away, but how would you feel about spending the summer with us? We're all staying at my parents' place in the country and it's where the wedding's going to be, and we'd all love it if you came and stayed with us. We'll understand if you'd rather stay with the Malfoys."
"I wouldn't. Nasty lot, the Malfoys," Ron blurted. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.
L nodded, his face settling into its blank mask. "I will come and stay with you. I need a change from the Malfoy mansion."
The group exchanged whoops and high-fives. They split off to go and dance. L perched back on his bench, uneasy in this social situation. Draco returned shortly, a drink in his hand, which he handed to L.
"I hate dancing," Draco stated, looking out across the crowd.
"Me too." L leaned on Draco's shoulder, inhaling chocolate and strawberry shampoo. They both turned to face each other. A few students stared, including Pansy Parkinson and Hermione Granger, the former looking uncomfortable, the latter simply smiling.
As L's eyes closed, the music faded away to almost nothing. He could hear Draco breathing and his own heartbeat. Then he could taste the punch Draco had just gulped down. More people turned to stare at the odd couple. Someone laughed. More people muttered to each other. A few people clapped and whistled.
L and Draco heard none of these. They were too absorbed in each other. L's mouth curled into a smile. He didn't realise now that this would be the last time he smiled today.
