As Dahlia arrived, chaos broke across the clearing. She and nearly a dozen Aurors emerged from the forest, meeting the red-robed wizards in swift attack. Draco saw hardly any familiar faces - he took this to mean that these were senior Aurors with years of experience under their belts.
All this was good news, but Draco couldn't find it in himself to care as Harry dropped to his knees, trapped in Rabbit's spell. The masked wizard was still clutching their blistered hand but quickly returned to themself as a hex shot over their shoulder.
Draco's legs were cramping from his stint against the tree, and he sprint-limped towards Harry as fast as he could, casting a Shield Charm to protect himself from the spells flying through the clearing.
Another figure got to Harry first - Draco recognized the broad shoulders and dark, flowing hair of none other than his commanding officer.
"Commander Connors?" Draco panted disbelievingly. He arrived just as Connors slashed through the ropes binding Harry. The cut on his forehead was bleeding; Draco was sure it hadn't been before.
"In the flesh," Connors replied grimly, tossing aside the ropes.
"I'm glad you made it," Draco said, distracted. He knelt to pick Harry up, bridal-style, and immediately regretted it. His boyfriend was a hell of a lot heavier than he looked.
"Oh no, you don't, Auror Malfoy, not by yourself," Connors scolded. She carefully lifted Harry by one of his shoulders, and Draco followed her example on his other side. Swiftly, they began to carry Harry off the muddying battlefield, Connors leading the way to a thick tangle of trees.
As soon as they were all under cover, Connors cast a protective spell to block curses and the rain and handed Draco a pouch of water. He drank from it gratefully, but as soon as he was finished, he demanded:
"How did you get the Aurors here? Were you warned? Have you got any healing potions?"
"Of course, I've got potions, Auror. I've been in this job longer than you have," Connors said, raising one of her magnificent eyebrows. She reached into her uniform, pulling out a collection of colored vials on a string of leather sheaths. "Auror Clarke came to warn us. Her and Potter's idea. I believe she used your teleportation potion."
"Really?" Draco sat forward eagerly. "Did it work? Is she all right?"
"I don't doubt your beau will have similar questions," Connors said gruffly. "Take this while I revive him." She handed Draco a pink vial of Energy Draught.
"He's not…." Never mind. Draco thought with a roll of his eyes, silencing himself with a sip of the potion. Whatever one calls him, he's 'my' anything, I suppose. Pinpricks of power surged back into his chest and fingertips.
Connors pointed her wand over Harry's face. "Rennervate."
Immediately, Harry gasped, green eyes fluttering open, and Connors wasted no time bringing the Energy Draught to his lips. Harry sipped some obediently, gaze owlish at the sight of her.
"Antigone - I mean, Commander," Harry corrected as soon as he could speak, "You're here."
"Well observed," Draco said, but he was unable to muster any more dryness as Harry sat up and embraced him without another word.
"You're okay," Harry whispered, his relief melting into Draco with the warmth of his arms.
"Thanks to you, I am," Draco replied, smiling despite himself, despite everything, the throbbing pain of the burn around his collarbone, the stitch in his side. Harry smelled of dirt and rain and blood, but he was alive.
"That was mostly your own power," Harry replied. "You cast a Patronus!"
Connors cleared her throat loudly. She had stood, clasped hands holding her wand in front of her. "Hate to interrupt, Aurors, but your job is not finished yet."
"Says who?" Draco said as he and Harry got to their feet, and though he knew it was rude, he didn't regret the words. He was sick of following authority to the ends of the earth, chasing enemies on foreign continents with whom he'd never have crossed wands otherwise. Draco had come to admire and care for Joey as a friend; he didn't mind traveling hundreds of miles to help her and accompany Harry. But he certainly didn't want to be taking any more orders. "Our original mission is complete."
"I want my juniors safe at home," Connors said sharply, hazel eyes narrowing. "Believe that, Auror Malfoy. This command comes from former Auror Dahlia Balengchit. I trust you recall her from Hogwarts."
"Dahlia's here," Harry realized aloud, and he placed a hand on Draco's shoulder to steady himself. He's still woozy. Draco held out his palm, and Connors' gaze flicked to Harry's wound before giving Draco a vial of healing potion.
"Face me," Draco muttered, and Harry turned, continuing to speak as Draco dabbed his forehead with dampened fingers. Bad potion etiquette, he realized, but time was a finite resource.
"She's here," Harry repeated. "You're all here. Joey got there safely?"
"Nearly unscathed. Auror Clarke was Splinched, but she's still in fighting shape," Connors informed. "She reported feeling a bit nauseated, but as I recall, she said, quote, 'If I puke one more time before finishing this effing mission, I swear to God I am leaving the force.'"
Draco and Harry both chuckled at that. Draco raised his left arm to wipe away some of Harry's blood with his sleeve, then he remembered that it had been torn off.
He saw the Dark Mark at the same time Connors did.
"Dear Merlin," She breathed, horrified.
Draco was at a loss for words. He simply stared at the dark snake that appeared to have swallowed the skull, for it was gone, replaced by beastly coils. Pale skin was marred with black twists, a head baring its fangs at Draco's elbow, the tail ending in his palms.
Draco dropped the potion, stomach turning with dread. Harry deftly caught and corked it, then gently took Draco's hands, ignoring the deadly ink. "This doesn't define you," he said firmly, "It will not take over." Sweet, well-meaning Harry. He always knew the right thing to say; even if, Draco was pressed to admit, it wouldn't make a difference.
"How did this happen?" Draco muttered, and though the question wasn't meant for anyone present, he asked it a second time. He felt numb, but no tears threatened to fall. The black serpent, though unmoving, seemed to falter. You're the intruder, Draco thought resolutely, glaring at it. "We'll deal with it later," He declared, waving his wand over his torn sleeve, and it inched to cover the Mark. Connors's brow was still furrowed in concern, but Harry's cautious smile spoke pride. "So, Dahlia needs us for something?"
"Yes." As she spoke, Connors slipped a golden watch chain from her uniform and glanced at the face. "I'm not sure why she's here, to be honest. But she asked Minister Kingsley to keep her informed on any of the Following's movements, so she must have been interested in their dealings since the beginning."
Draco and Harry exchanged a knowing look - they had both seen Dao's vision. "The beginning" was more accurate than Connors realized. Draco hoped he'd be able to ask his former professor a few questions; Dahlia had been nothing but kind to him in his eighth year, but he wouldn't put it past her to have aided the Following some time in the past - perhaps even recently. He clung to the hope that she would put his doubts to rest.
"Let me see your burn," Harry murmured, and Draco nodded, letting him unbutton the top of his uniform and dab potion across his skin.
"Dahlia has a plan to defeat the Following's leader," Connors continued as they listened. "Incapacitate her, for the time being. I've instructed my Aurors to tell the Following to stand down, but either none of them can understand English, or else they believe they have the tools to fight back." It was clear from Connors's frown that she thought the latter. "In about two minutes, you're going to create a diversion." She arched a brow at Draco. "A collection of which I'm told Auror Malfoy has already exploded."
Draco pressed his lips into a line, unwilling to apologize. Connors did not seem irked at this; she pressed on.
"Dahlia will use said diversion to bail out of her duel and meet up with you two. She'll give you further instructions, of which I was not privy to, but…." Connors tutted. "No time."
"You trust her, then?" Harry asked. The question was innocent, relevant, but it gave Draco pause.
"Don't you?" Draco said incredulously.
"I want to," Harry said fervently. He corked the potion and fastened Draco's uniform, his hand lingering for a moment on his chest. "But…we haven't seen her for three years." Both of them hesitated.
The commander raised her hands. "Don't look at me. I'm trusting your instincts, Aurors. This is your call to make. Joey is engaged right now, but as soon as any three of you want to leave, you can. Your mission, as Auror Malfoy pointed out, is done. You have a minute to decide if you are to help Dahlia or not."
If he was honest with himself, Draco almost jumped at the chance to go home. He wanted to leave the cracking noise of spells, the dampness of blood and rain, for the safety of Cambridge and St. Mungo's. But then he caught the fierce look in Harry's eyes, and Draco knew that the man he loved would stay behind amidst the danger and smoke. Draco couldn't sit still at home, not if he knew he could stay and watch Harry's back. Harry would do the same for him.
"I'll go," Harry said firmly. "Draco?"
Draco slipped his hand into Harry's and squeezed tight, a promise in a touch. "I'm with you."
"Then I will take my leave." Connors waved her wand, and the protective bubble dissolved. The rain came hard and fast, drops pattering down upon their shoulders. The ground would be turning to mud out there, Draco realized, and he wished for an Anti-Slip Charm to cast on his shoes, but no such thing existed. He heard Harry mutter the spell he used to make his glasses water-repellent. "Good luck, Aurors." Connors turned with a sweep of gray robes and ran into the clearing to aid her fellow wizards.
"A diversion." The glint in Harry's green eyes was easy to read.
"Fred Weasley method?" Draco twirled his wand.
"Simple yet effective," Harry replied with a grin. A drop of water slid down his temple and dripped off his chin, pink from the blood smeared on his forehead. "Let's go."
They'd practiced this spell combination dozens of times in the Auror training room after hours, but only for fun - Draco hadn't expected to use it this soon, but he followed as Harry took the lead, slowly emerging into the clearing as he moved his wand in a slow circle. Draco did the same, muttering an incantation, and fire bloomed from the tip of his wand, creating a spinning wheel at his side.
As they inched into the clearing, Draco tensed, expecting to be attacked, but the Aurors had been doing well in their absence. Only a couple of Following members remained standing, dueling pairs of Aurors as their brethren's wrists were bound by figures in gray uniforms. Joey was easy to pick out, even in the haze of the rain, as she dueled fiercely against Rabbit, red and yellow sparks clashing.
In the center, amidst a whirlwind of violent magic, fought Dahlia and Dao. Lightning, fire, and magical sparks lit the drops in vibrant colors. Dao was tiring, barely dodging hits instead of using Shielding Charms. But Dahlia's magic was weaker, too, Draco noticed; she used no truly deadly spells and kept her distance. He couldn't see her expression through the rain and could only hope that Dahlia was holding back on purpose.
"Five!" Harry shouted. His fire, like Draco's own, had gathered into a spinning wheel, roaring with loud but harmless flames sputtering slightly in the rain. "Four! Three!" He flung his fire forward, aiming right for the dueling pair. "Two! One!"
Draco aimed, willing the wheel to crash into Harry's just as it reached Dahlia and Dao. The flames spun gaily, spurting towards the sky in a brilliant flash of light. Proper Fred Weasley form would include colorful smoke and perhaps bursts of translucent butterflies, but Draco and Harry didn't have the materials. Still, the rush of heat and light were enough to distract both Dao and Dahlia, and under cover of the dancing flames, Harry grabbed his former professor's arm and cast a Disillusionment Charm over them. They sprinted for the trees, Draco throwing a fervent glance over his shoulder as he heard someone scream - Joey, Rabbit, or someone else, he couldn't tell.
Thunder rumbled over their heads as Harry let the charm dissolve, and Dahlia came into view. Her hair, grown to her shoulders, dripped with water, and bore teal streaks that matched her T-shirt. Her arms trembled as she leaned against a tree, her shoulders sagging, brown eyes dull with exhaustion, but her smile was unfailing.
"Glad you made it," said Dahlia, as if she'd been waiting for them at a café.
"Professor, we don't have much time," Harry said breathlessly.
"And there is much to explain," Dahlia replied wearily. "Much to do, much to say. But what to do? What to say?" Her gaze searched the tangle of vines and leaves before her.
"Professor," Draco cut in.
"Apologies, I'm awfully tired. You can drop that Professor nonsense," Dahlia said with a wave of her hand. "Quit this year. Anyway, anyway," She shook her head at Harry, whose expression begged many questions, "I need your help to take down Dao." She spoke quickly, energy charging her words, though she never moved from her slump against the tree. "Most wizards around here cast from an amulet, but her power stems from something else entirely."
"Souls," Harry interjected.
"She - what? Yes, that's right," Dahlia said, bewildered. "How did you know?"
Harry and Draco exchanged a grim look. "Lucky guess," said Harry dryly.
"She came for you." Dahlia frowned and folded her arms. "Well. You would have been an extraordinary addition, I'll tell you that much.
"The mask, however…the mask is key. Most of the phut ham rai, the Following,wear them without knowing they carry a spell. Subtle to the wearer, but it keeps them loyal to their leader. Kayala didn't exploit it much, but I have no doubt Dao does."
The familiarity with which Dahlia spoke of the Following was disturbing, but Draco tamped down his paranoia. She was giving them valuable information.
"The mask of their leader acts similarly on their combined souls, though I suspect Dao is having more trouble keeping them under their control than usual," Dahlia continued. "She said in a letter a few years back that no other leader had gone against their predecessors so absolutely before. The magical pressure in that kind of enchanted object must be unbearable." Her mouth drooped as if the thought of Dao in pain upset her.
Draco's mind was reeling. He glanced at Harry, whose brow was furrowed; he was deep in thought. "Dao…wrote you letters?" Draco asked.
"We used to be good friends," Dahlia said, which confirmed the visions Draco and Harry had received earlier. "But then…" She sighed, half exasperated, half anguished. "I'm sorry. My past is not something we need to get into right now. But you both need to know," Dahlia walked towards them, spreading her hands in earnest, "I left them. I was born to serve by Dao's side, but I left her. It was the hardest and best choice I ever made."
Dahlia's voice trembled, head turning back towards the battlefield despite herself, and that's when it hit Draco. The melancholic look in her eyes, her hand on Dao's shoulder in the shared memory, the tiger Patronus, the same as Dao's…
Harry had come to the same conclusion. "You loved her."
Dahlia's expression softened. The lines around her mouth smoothed, and her face became blank. Unreadable. "Maybe once," She admitted, "I was too young to know of love.
"The mask," Dahlia repeated and took a deep breath. "I helped her bind it, but I can't take it off myself. It can't be taken by brute force. She needs to touch it, at least, while I perform the unbinding spell."
"But she wouldn't." Harry's eyes widened, and he lowered his voice. "The Imperious Curse?"
Dahlia raised an eyebrow. "I'm not asking for you to throw your career away, Harry. But do what you can."
"This is insane," Draco blurted, mind reeling. "Why do we have to be the ones to do it? Can't we just Stun her?"
"Taking off the mask and breaking her connection to the other souls is the best way to weaken her. A spell that simple won't get through," Dahlia insisted. "I know I'm asking a lot of you. I don't expect you to trust me."
Raindrops drummed a steady, soft pattern on the leaves above. Draco pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, closing them against the greens and grays of the jungle. He breathed deeply, gathering his strength, then opened his eyes and nodded to Harry.
"We'll help you," Harry said.
Dahlia gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you." She gripped her wand tight, knuckles paling. "Follow my lead."
There was nothing quiet about the clearing, the thunder that rolled overhead, the protests and curses of those brought to their knees on the sopping earth. Eyes like torn purple irises watched red-robed followers fall without an ounce of pity nor concern, though rage flared intensely as they met Dahlia's gaze.
Dahlia was exhausted. It was obvious to Draco from the way she clutched her side, limping slowly to face her foe. But Dahlia raised her wand and voice anyway, calling out to Dao as Harry and Draco flanked her. "You have to stop this," Dahlia pleaded. "Your power won't last for long. Kayala and the others - they're fighting against you. I can see it."
Dao replied sharply in Thai, but the meaning was apparent as she gathered crackling, ash-black energy between her fingertips. She would not back down.
"Protego!" Dahlia incantated as the spell flew towards her, and the charm absorbed most of the power, but for a moment, it sizzled against her skin, and she briefly shut her eyes in pain.
Harry turned, opening his mouth to call back to her, but Draco met his gaze, firmly shaking his head. They split away from their old professor, moving in tandem, slowly making their way through the grass.
"Sending mere youngsters to fight for you," Dao spat in distaste, "You would dare hide behind them?
Dahlia did not flinch nor respond, but the tip of her wand lit like a candle flame.
Dao eyed Harry and Draco as they slowly approached, weapons at the ready. Her hands slowly began to fill with lightning, blue and lilac bolts flashing between her fingers. Her eyes darted between them, but Draco understood it as well as she did - to attack them would leave her guard way open. Dao relented, letting the magic dissipate. Natural lightning lit up the sky behind her, briefly throwing harsh daylight upon the clearing.
For one brief, stupid moment, Draco thought the whole situation would be easier to handle than he thought. He inched within casting distance. One restraint spell and he and Harry could rush Dao together.
The incantation began to surface in his mind. Purple eyes flicked towards Harry, and too late, Draco realized that Dao was only waiting for an opportunity.
Ice shards as sharp as knives flashed through the rain in hundreds, straight towards Harry. "No!" Someone screamed, and whether it was Draco himself or Dahlia, he didn't know, only watched as Harry's body was torn to pieces…
…Except it wasn't. Draco had underestimated his reflexes. Harry slashed upwards with his wand, and the shards parted in an invisible wind. He threw them up into the air with an audible grunt, and they joined the drops in a harmless fall. It was gorgeous, swift magic - worthy of Dumbledore himself, yet Harry had none of his experience, and Draco could tell he was tiring fast. He needed help.
Draco twisted his wand, and thick black ropes flew to wrap around Dao, binding her hands behind her back. She growled, breaking them apart in a gust of smoke, but the time was enough for Dahlia to leap forward - with a flick of her wand, a cut gaped across Dao's palm.
To Draco's surprise, she laughed, the horrific cacophony of trapped voices rippling across the clearing. "So ruthless for a scared little girl," She proclaimed, the words strained with pain.
Draco couldn't help but agree - Dahlia's eyes were wide as if she couldn't believe she'd cast the spell.
Harry pressed forward with another restrainment charm, but this time, Dao was ready. "Serpensortia!"
The flying rope Harry had cast abruptly transformed into a thin black snake that hissed viciously as it thumped against the earth. Draco gasped, a cold sweat breaking over his forehead, and the creature must have sensed his fear - it reared its head, beady eyes glinting, and began to slither in his direction.
It's not Nagini. Kill it. It's not Nagini. Draco chanted in his head, or perhaps under his breath. Kill it, kill it, you idiot! His hand was shaking. The rain had drowned out every other sound; he was dimly aware of bursts of colored light. Harry's voice, hoarse and afraid, was background noise.
The snake's black tongue flicked forward. It was ten meters away. Seven. Five. Draco stumbled backward, putting distance between them, but he could see the beast's eyes still. Did it have teeth? Would it strangle him? He felt himself growing faint.
Draco closed his eyes. "For fuck's sake," He whimpered. "Get ahold of yourself." He fired a banishing spell, stupidly without looking, then opened his eyes. The snake had disappeared. "Daft prick," Draco muttered at himself, for good measure, and ran back into the fray.
Both Dao and Dahlia were tiring quickly. The professor's leg had been slashed - she was bleeding profusely, but she kept herself barely upright, casting spells on the spot. Harry had taken over much of the dueling, but even with Dao's dwindling magic, it was more than enough to rival him.
Then Dao turned her back on Draco. Harry had changed her trajectory, dodging a flash of fire that singed the top of his head - if not for the rain, his hair might have been burned clean off. It was obviously the last of his worries; he met Draco's eyes from a distance away.
Now's my chance. Fresh, jagged anger bolted through Draco as he looked at the flowing red robes of his enemy. Just a few weeks ago, Draco had virtually no idea of her existence, and now, she was attacking who he loved. The stupidity of the wild goose chase she'd sent them on, the agony and despair that had rattled his soul, filled him with fury.
What a cowardly thing, he decided, to hide behind a mask. What good is power if you can't face yourself?
Draco gritted his teeth. He was done with tiptoeing around with far-off spells and subtlety.
With a shout, he flung magic forward - sloppy, emotion-fueled casting Commander Connors would have reprimanded him for. Uncontrolled fire rolled in a wave towards Dao, wrapping around her, burning her robes, and she crumpled with a raw, human scream. For a moment, her voices had coalesced into a single cry of a cowering girl.
Draco hesitated, close enough to hear her strained panting as the flames died down. Harry, still caught in the throes of battle, fired a Lightning Hex, and it crackled through her body. Dao slumped to the ground.
"Now! Restrain her!" Dahlia called urgently.
Draco muttered in Latin, slowly pushing his wand from his mouth towards Dao's left wrist, pinning it to the ground with a humming, ash-colored force. Next to him, Harry did the same, and the fetters dwindled Dao's magic. She could only thrash and growl curses in Thai.
It took almost all of Draco's concentration to keep Dao down. He could feel hundreds of invisible hands pulling at the restraints, tearing energy from him.
Footsteps rustled in the wet grass as Dahlia limped forward. Her damp hair hung partially in front of her face, streaked with rain. Something not quite like pity dwelled heavily in her eyes.
"You…have to stop this. I…" Dahlia winced, pressing a hand to the wound on her leg. She was losing a lot of blood; her trouser leg was soaked.
"Professor!" Harry gasped. He was focusing on the spell, too, but his green eyes flickered fearfully to her.
"None of that," Dahlia reminded with a faint smile. Then her expression hardened. Her wand tip lowered, pointing directly at Dao's heaving chest. She said something soft in Thai. Dao's eyes grew wide with fear; she stopped struggling. "If I kill her with the mask on, it will be a fate worse than death."
Both Harry and Draco blanched. The Mark twinged as if sensing that death was near. "Kill…?" Draco began.
"Yes." Dahlia wouldn't look at either of them, and Draco understood. She had already done her grieving. The friend she'd known was already gone. She spoke in Thai again, firmly. A command.
To Draco's surprise, Dao nodded. He wished he could read her face, but any human tremble had been hidden away.
"Let her go," Dahlia instructed. Her wand did not waver. "Be ready."
Together, Draco and Harry released the spell. Draco sighed, a great tension relieved from his arms. He prayed he wouldn't have to bear it again.
Dao lifted her uninjured hand, touching the edge of her mask; Dahlia reached down and grasped the other side. The wooden tiger's mane emitted a soft white glow, like the light of a Patronus.
"There you are, Dao," Dahlia coaxed, and Draco realized she was speaking Thai, but he could understand every word. "We'll set you free."
Then the violet eyes flashed. The glass within them shattered, and a dark, hateful brown spilled into them.
"You will go down with me!" Dao hissed, the chorus of voices chillingly asynchronous. Her other hand shot forward faster than Draco could blink, smearing blood against Dahlia's neck. The acrid scent of burning flesh stung Draco back into focus, but his tired body was slow to react.
Harry acted first, and a jet of blue light landed where Dao's fingers touched Dahlia's skin. Cruel, white frostbite raced over Dao's hand - she screeched and let Dahlia go.
"The mask!" Harry cried. The glow had begun to fade, but Draco lurched forward and tugged with all his might. The magic that Dahlia had set into motion was enough for him to finish the process, and the mask came off with the sound of a hundred sighs.
Dao suddenly grew very still, her eyes fluttering shut. Draco's stomach lurched at the sight of her face, all at once terribly young with girlish features and full lips, yet old with deep forehead and frown lines, as well as snow-white hair at the roots.
Harry had gone immediately to Dahlia's side. She lay gasping in the mud, eyes fluttering in the rain. The skin on her throat had blackened, and not just from the burn. As Draco watched, darkness began to ooze into her veins, crawling up her neck.
"The worst kind of curse," Dahlia muttered bitterly. She stared straight up into the stormy sky, but her fingers twitched as if beckoning Harry and Draco closer. "Cast by a friend."
"Healer!" Harry shouted desperately. "We need potions, something, please!" But the Aurors were dealing with prisoners and injuries of their own. A broad figure with waves of dark hair - their commander, Draco was sure - looked in their direction and stood.
"You can't," Dahlia croaked.
"Help!"
"Harry, listen to me." Dahlia's fingers closed weakly around his wrist. "And Draco." With every inhale, her breathing grew shallower. "So many…" She shook her head, blinking rapidly, gaze unfocused. "Can't. Mercy. You must…" She paused, tears slipping down her temples.
Draco bent closer, his hand brushing against hers. It didn't move; she didn't react. He knew what would happen, even before it did, but he was numb to it. He'd watched this fate come too many times. Harry, though, shook with resistance, clutching Dahlia's hand as if trying to pull her back.
"Mercy," Dahlia pleaded.
"We will," Harry promise, and the break in his voice caused tears to gather, unwanted, in Draco's eyes. "We'll show mercy, Dahlia."
She did not hear him. Her eyes fixed to the sky as if searching for the stars hidden behind the storm clouds.
Harry dropped his wand, buried his face in his grimy, blood-flecked hand, and sobbed. Draco sighed, lost for words of solace, of reassurance. He only followed Dahlia's gaze and let his own helplessness join the rain as it slipped down his cheeks.
[Translations from Thai:
phut ham rai is a romanization of a Thai word that roughly means attacker or abuser, used ironically by the Following as they are named after the very thing they claim to fight against.]