Author's Notes: There'll be a lot of switching POV's so you'll just have to bear with me. I have officially dropped the old format. The two parts seemed superfluous didn't they? Especially since every thing is combined now. What did everyone think of Voldie's downfall? Jeez that must have hurt… then again, I was never good at appealing to pathos, so I went lothos instead, tell me what you thought. I spent about 12 hours working on this (it took that long) and I have a nasty head cold, so if this makes no sense whatsoever, or if there are unforgivable syntax errors, I'm really sorry.
OH! This is the advertising chapter, so here goes. There is some great art by Kitsune, she's incredible, if you're into that sort of thing (anime and her original art) go check it out… it is really inspiring www.silvertales.com.
Also. I would love for everyone to do me a big favor. One of my best friends wrote a HP fic, but NO ONE has read or reviewed it. It shouldn't take long to read, and it's really quite funny having nothing at all to do with Ron and everything to do with Harry/Draco. And there's a new, semi-smutty chapter that I'm collaborating on coming up. So! Go read Ronald Weasley's Horror by TenshiOnna. It would so delight us.
For the record, I never described Scion in the story because it's just not worth it, but he's cute. Black hair, grey eyes, broad shoulders, tall, slender, about 24 years old…. He's cute. We should all be so lucky as Harry to have gorgeous guys (with the best intentions of course) chasing after us. ^_~.
Review Responses:
FlowerFunLeah: I'm so happy you liked it, I figure that this chapter I'll actually reach the climax and the next… well, you'll see. Anyway, that would have been a cool idea, save Dumbly survives in sunlight… and he's just not worth it. I don't really like Dumbledore (he's just so… manipulative, he's not even honest about being a bastard like Voldy is), so I figure that either Voldemort forgot his liaisons with Scion, or he wasn't really afraid because vampires tend to protect their pets ^_~. Anyway, great review.
KittenBabyGirl: Exactly. Poultry… Birdy…. Yeah. Besides the fact that my own bird (cute, green, and fuzzy as she is) was irritating the hell out of me one afternoon when I was trying to sleep. Lol… there's also this book… something like sex signs of the zodiac (or something like that, don't quote me cause I'm feverishly ill) but I figured that Draco was a Scorpio (he sounds like one ne?) and said book implied that after sex, Scorpio's tend to want strange things like roast duck (I love teriyaki chicken wings after a lemon)… lots of double entendres.
Weasley Wonders: Wai! Sugoi sugoi! You're the first person (I think) to have commented on my gruesomeness. THANK YOU! Of course, this chapter will answer all of your questions, including the Poultry one, which can be found above. ^_^.
CheeseJunkieJane: That is a hilarious pen name. Thanks for the review; I hope you enjoy this one too.
Em Parker: I had to cut off the chapter like that, I'd finished my word quota, and I really wanted to stretch this into 10 chapters instead of 9… sorry. Besides, it makes the suspense build. I guess you'll just have to be content with this chapter until I can put the ending up. Thanks for putting up with it though, it's not that great… -_-;;
Katrina: Wow… everyone has noticed the Poultry thing but no one got my earlier hints (like the ability to read Malfoy's mind in one of the chapters… I don't recall which). Anyway, I'll see what I can do about making you guys laugh, but if you like morbid humor, go read A Malik Slushee (I wrote it… shouldn't be hard to find) it's pretty damned strange. Oh, and… I'll see what I can do about Harry.
Jollinar: Wow! Germany! All things considered, you English is great, I don't know three words of German (I can say thank you but I can't spell it). Anyway, thanks for reading, I'm so happy you have the patience for it!
Rebuky: Wow! I'm so glad that I sucked you into this and made you laugh. I'm the type of person that laughs in the most desperate situations and cries at…. Well, it's been a while since I've cried. Anyway, thank you so much for your review, I love making people giggle, babble, shudder in revulsion. You've made my day.
Lady-willowish: You will see a new chapter very soon, I'm prophetic I know these things ^_~. Sorry, I couldn't resist, though two days isn't too bad for a new chappie.
TenshiNoKoori: This chapter will be so long… and I think I've found a suitable chapter title maybe… you'll have to tell me what you think. And yeah, Poultry. Roast duck sounds good about now. *feral grin*
Emeline: Updated.
In Darkness Found, Light Revealed
Chapter 9: Wanting
"Why are you here?" That laughter was infuriating. He accepted the interruption from Tom simply because Riddle was a gift for Birdy, and to ignore such a gift on such an important day would have been cruel… but this! This was just unnecessary distraction! Scion was a second away from ruthlessly killing the spy when he'd started laughing. Mocking him, it was outrageous!
*
Why was he here? Malfoy had no idea. He'd followed Harry out of a sense of duty, Harry had gone to Hogsmeade at his request, he'd been tortured because of Malfoy's inability to intervene, and he had been dragged here because the blonde couldn't stop it. But why did he follow? For Harry of course. He walked right into his doom for Harry's sake, not out of curiosity, not out of a vindictive sense of Slytherin pride, he came because he was worried about the luckiest boy in the world. Suddenly, things weren't funny anymore.
"I'm here," he said non-threateningly, he was walking on dangerous ground and he knew it, "because Potter's here."
*
Scion's eyebrows knitted as he jerked back, hauling Harry with him and snarling possessively. He regained control of himself almost immediately, but there was a moment when he was ready to flee the forest with Birdy in his arms to keep him from the strange boy. "I am afraid," he said calculatingly, sounding very much like Malfoy Senior, "That I have taken a bit of a personal interest in him." The boy didn't move an inch, he didn't try to back away.
It was strange, Scion thought, that the blonde should be here at all. Upon having entered Harry's mind many times, the vampire had seen this very boy, irritating to the last, from Harry's eyes. He had assumed, given their constant bickering, that they were bitter enemies. If Scion was not mistaken, and Scion was never mistaken, there was no logical explanation for the boy's appearance in the forest.
What's more, the vampire was shaken. The boy had had an epiphany, that much was obvious when he stopped laughing; Scion could no longer smell the fear on him, could no longer sense the desperation. The cold nonchalance tempered by affection for his Birdy had startled him. There was no way in all the nine hells that a mere mortal boy would get to his Birdy, Harry would be coveted until the end of time.
But… "What do you want?"
*
"Potter." The answer surprised him. Malfoy wanted to live, he wanted to run, to cry, to beg, to start laughing again. Did he want Harry? He thought back on the past two months, the Gryffindor had been such a vexing twit that he'd wanted to strangle him at every opportunity presented to him. But something had restrained him then, it was a fortunate thing, because somehow, despite years of bitter enmity they'd formed a sort of civility that was slowly becoming a real friendship.
*
There were all sorts of reasons for Scion to be upset, not the least of which was when he finally obtained his goal, someone was there to wrench it away from him. Birdy was his, he didn't have to kill this boy, because this boy was nothing more than an eyesore, a bug to be stepped on. "I apologize," he said insincerely, "but I am afraid he is not yours for the having. Now please, run along and play before I kill you."
*
Malfoy ran. He just didn't run in the right direction. Instead of running for the safety of the castle as he had longed to do for the last hour, he ran for Harry. "Potter? Potter can you hear me?" Ignoring the fact that Harry was still very-much ensnared by an old and powerful demon, Malfoy cupped Harry's chin in his palm and lifted his face. Harry's green eyes were blank; his face vacant of all emotion, Malfoy was sickened. "Jesus Potter."
*
Scion's eyes narrowed dangerously, this blonde thing was ruining his perfect reunion with Birdy. He didn't know why it bothered him so much; in fact, it shouldn't have bothered him at all. With a blast of power that forced the surrounding trees apart with a booming crack, Malfoy was flung backwards, away from Harry.
*
Harry tried to close his eyes, but he was incapable of that action, but he could let the muscles in his neck relax, his head hung limp like a rag doll's on its cloth neck. His body didn't belong to him anymore, he couldn't control his actions, but he still saw and heard everything that transpired in the clearing, albeit through a foggy haze of incomprehensibility. He saw Riddle's death, he felt for him though he, more than anyone else, deserved what he got. But… did he really deserve it? He had looked so frightened, so like a child, Harry didn't want him to die, he just… he didn't know what he wanted. Not this, never this. In all the times that he had fought Voldemort, he never thought either of them would actually die – what was left to exist for?
Why was Malfoy doing this? He'd had his chance to survive but now… Scion would surely kill him. Harry would have cried if he could, everyone he grew fond of kept sacrificing themselves for his sake. And he was fond of Malfoy. They fought for so long that Harry grew attached, like he had with Voldemort, there was never a moment in his mind when he imagined the future and hadn't seen himself fighting with Malfoy. Now there was no future. For either of them. He couldn't stand it anymore! He would have willingly thrown himself at Scion's feet to keep Malfoy alive, to keep just one of them alive. But he'd never been given the chance.
He didn't want this. And he wanted Scion to know it. All of his senses felt clouded, he couldn't see very well, Malfoy was fuzzy and Scion too close to be clear. Neither could he hear, the vampire's voice rang through his ears but there were no birds, no scrabbling of insects, he could barely hear Malfoy, though he knew he was there. He couldn't even feel the biting February air. He felt like he had the head cold of a century without the pain; of course it could have been worse, his nose could have been running.
*
A scream of fear wrenched itself from Malfoy's throat as he hit the ground and skidded to a stop at the base of a tree with the wind knocked out of him. Gasping for breath in the attempt to re-inflate his lungs, Malfoy picked himself up, using the ancient tree's roots for support. He wouldn't go down that easily.
Oh but it hurt, his entire back would be bruised if he survived this. There were probably rocks in his skin, rocks and tiny pieces of tree bark, he could feel pebbles imbedded where he landed on his shoulders but he shook it all loose in a shower of debris as he stood. "Potter." Harry was his driving force, under ordinary circumstances he would have run, but it would have been a sin to leave someone that helpless behind to face god knows what alone. "Let him go."
*
These mortals! Arrogant, greedy, pathetic mortals! He only wanted one. A few in the many centuries he'd been alive, a very precious few, but these selfish mortals insisted on keeping them. All he wanted was the occasional consort, there hadn't been more than four in the millennium he had been alive; Harry would have been the fifth, but recently….
Apparently it was more honorable to be the victim of a vampire than to become a vampire. On and on these pathetic mortals went, about souls and nobility. Five hundred years ago it was easy to obtain his prey, and exchange of sorts. He would seal a pact with his queries village, so long as he did not hunt within the village, he could have anything he wanted. The village would promptly deliver the object of his affections with a red ribbon. In this time of peace, every member of a society would rather die protecting him or her than give up a single human. Worthless, hive-minded species.
Being a nameless corpse, rotting in a forest having died a mysterious death was better than becoming immortal, becoming more than human! What a ludicrous belief! What was a soul to immortality! What was a soul at all? Scion had never missed his.
*
"Please just let him go." He knew that it wouldn't work, but he had to try. He had to let Harry know that he'd tried before he died. He was afraid, that was true, he wanted to run crying to his mother but he knew he couldn't. There were more important things than his life, like his honor, and Harry's. Malfoy's didn't back down. They were thrown in prison, guarded by dementors, tortured, harangued, or even unfairly persecuted for their loyalties to the wizarding world. Malfoy's didn't back down. Ever.
The vampire sneered contemptuously and Malfoy clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth in frustration. This was idiocy, there was nothing to do! All he could do was beg and even that was futile! Then again…. Still partially hidden by the fallen branches of the tree, Malfoy dug through his many pockets searching for anything that might be of assistance to him. There was a crumbling muffin from dinner in one of his robe pockets; either Crabbe or Goyle must have shoved it in there when he wasn't looking. Suddenly Malfoy found himself with a headache, if these were the tools, he had, he was screwed.
There was a cross around his neck, he knew because his mother had given it to him two years ago and insisted he wear it. It had become a habit and now he never took it off. That would surely be of some use, but it was such a small thing, platinum, not silver, his mother bought it for him the day his father was arrested; Draco saw it as a bit of irony. His mother bought him a symbol of Christ, something to put his faith in and pray to the very day his father was arrested. He didn't have much faith in it at all, but maybe it would sting his enemy.
This could be difficult. "Let Potter go."
*
Scion sneered. The little nuisance was challenging him. The gall! He'd been more than fair, he'd given the boy an opportunity to walk away, he'd thrown him off with a warning, even after he had touched Birdy. Yet the blonde was still before him. Scion was growing angry, Harry was quaking in his arms, this boy was upsetting his Birdy!
The vampire readjusted Harry in his arms, turning him around and covering his perfect eyes with his broad shoulder. He would allow no one to harm his Birdy, no one would be permitted to trespass upon the sanctity of Birdy's mind. Scion cradled Harry's head, gently running his fingers through his wild hair as he prepared to kill this thing that laid claim to his possession.
*
Malfoy knew he was in deep, up shit creek without a paddle, or a boat for that matter. His hand went to his throat where his mother's cross was resting against his pounding pulse point. Clutching the cross, he strode across the clearing once again intent on Harry. The vampire was an obstacle, and a hell of an obstacle at that, but he wasn't the objective. Was this what the people fighting with Dumbledore felt like when they were fighting Death Eaters? Was Voldemort the objective or just an obstacle towards peace? It was all pointless now wasn't it? He was tempted to start laughing again, how ridiculously anti-climatic, all the training, all the preparation, all the secret rendezvous and all it took was one vampire.
The look on the vampire's face was priceless. He was incensed, his nostrils had flared, his eyes narrowed and his hands clenched, but he was still trying to maintain an air of cool superiority. Malfoy carefully trained his features into a blank slate, the situation was dire, the people involved too important to be laughed at. He didn't have a plan, maybe if he just distracted the vampire for long enough, then Harry would have the opportunity to run. He would be safe again, at least for a moment.
*
The mortal was brash, he was foolish, and he would die. Harry was his, and no scrawny, half-trained wizard would take him. It would have taken the boy a miracle, and miracles didn't exist. With a thought, the boy was in the air, and with a wave of his hand, Scion ripped the cross from the boys neck. Harry shuddered in his arms. "Shh. We will be away soon."
*
Harry didn't want to be away, or rather, he wanted to be away from Scion. Very, very far away. He was afraid, he had seen Voldemort's remains, and he didn't want the same to happen to Malfoy. He had been fighting, struggling with all that he possessed against the vampire but nothing was happening. His body wouldn't respond, years of quidditch had done nothing for his mind. Maybe if he'd practiced Occlumency harder, maybe if he hadn't looked into Snape's memories, if he hadn't been so incredibly stupid, if he hadn't been in the forest that night…. Maybe he wouldn't be in this mess.
That night, he'd been in the forest because he just needed to think. He had just… he had wanted to be alone that night. He'd been rejected by Lavender Brown that night, he wasn't in love with her by any means, but she was cute and had developed a cracking sense of humor. He had only wanted to go to the Yule Ball with her. It was the simple things that hurt the worst, the special treatment and the ordinary loneliness that plagued him. She hadn't been mean, she didn't have it in her to be mean, but she had turned him down and that was that. All he had been able to think was her giggling voice as it had grown somber, "I would Harry but… well, nothing ever goes right with you and… I don't want to put myself in a compromising position." What she really meant was "you have a tendency to get people killed. I don't want the publicity." He had survived dinner, all of Hermione's sympathetic looks and all of Ron's oblivious optimism ("Maybe you could ask Parvati, Harry."), but he just couldn't take anymore when Lavender wouldn't even look at him. He hated being Harry Potter, so he ran. He ran outside for some fresh air with an over the shoulder excuse to his friends, and he'd ended up in the Forbidden Forest.
He remembered the fear of that night, all of his anxieties over never having a meaningful relationship had disappeared in an instant. His parents had died, that was true, Sirius, Cedric, Moody, all dead – even Arthur Weasley had nearly gotten himself killed and it all boiled down to Harry in the end. It all seemed so trivial, and now someone else was trying to die for him. Would this never end?!
The whole night he'd only been able to produce small shudders and repressed screams that came out as whimpers. He hated being this helpless he hated it! He had always hated it, and tonight, he had no intention of letting someone else die for him. He had to get away.
*
The cross, his only hope, went flying from his neck and into the line of trees, the chain left a welt on the back of his neck, he couldn't see it, but he could feel it. He still had the bran muffin, was the vampire by any chance allergic to bran? But Scion's allergies didn't matter as a line of white-hot pain slid from the welt on Malfoy's neck to the small of his back. He screamed as the pain grew deeper, sinking beneath his skin and absorbing into his bones as they too roared in anguish. He was on fire! There was no smoke, there was no stench of burning flesh but he was on fire, he had to be!
Suddenly the pain stopped and in its place was utter cold. Shivering as a breeze passed over him, he hung limp in the air. A small trickle of liquid was making itself known, trailing down his back from the line of agony the vampire had inflicted upon him. He was bleeding. That had been agony, something that rivaled the unforgiveables, but the vampire had a sadistic grin on his face and Malfoy knew without a doubt that there would be more. Much more.
*
Harry was growing impatient, Scion could feel it in the way he twitched and groaned. If Birdy was discontent then the blonde had to suffer, he had far too much of an effect on his dearest little treasure. Only he should have been able to affect his pet, under his control, he should have been the only influence that Harry felt, but this boy had somehow made an impression. That was unacceptable.
With a few deft but gentle movements, Scion set Harry against the trunk of a fallen tree. He would give this impudent boy a full taste of his powers before he let him die, then he and Harry would be off before the sun rose. With a lingering kiss, first at the nape of Harry's lips where blood still seeped from the puncture wounds, then his lips, and finally he kissed Harry's forehead like a loving parent comforting a child. Then he turned to play with the blonde.
*
Harry shuddered in revulsion, or his body tried to. Voldemort was one thing, he was honest, he was straightforward, he was a bastard. But at least he wasn't a perverted bastard. He felt like squirming away from the amorous vampire but his body wouldn't obey him. He had just been kissed by a member of the same sex, while Harry was no homophobe, it freaked him out. His warden should have been a corpse rotting in the earth, a grease stain buried hundreds of miles away. He most certainly should not have been inclined nor capable of kissing!
If a soul was capable of gagging, Harry's did. He hadn't been able to see what Scion did to Malfoy after he was lifted into the air, he had been desperate to see the source of his screaming but his efforts were futile. It wasn't fair! He had never felt so useless in his life, being coddled and caressed while one of his… friends (was he a friend?) was tortured.
He had a chance now, there was a faint glimmer of hope. There was a slim, extremely slim, chance that he would be able to escape with his life and a semblance of his sanity. But at what cost? He no more wanted to die than he wanted to dance around in an Easter Bunny suit at a Death Eater party, but he couldn't leave Malfoy behind. He had done so much for him, suffered so much for him. His fingers twitched, clenching in the wet snow, Harry could barely feel the cold.
*
Malfoy felt the power lifting him up, swirling around him; he felt it with every cell in his body. There was no way to fight this; he could only hope that his end would be quick. Though there was one advantage to facing a vampire. Just as vampires were not affected by wizarding magic, neither could they use it; this way, at least he couldn't imagine his death. He could not picture the spells in his mind, and he couldn't see in his mind exactly how the magic would tear through his body. That had to be a good thing… right?
A sudden jerk had him spinning in mid air, what had happened? His shoulder throbbed and pulsed though he hadn't felt an injury. Moments later, another bolt of the same power ripped through the fleshy muscle of his upper arm, spinning him in the other direction. He was getting dizzy. It took a moment for blood to come to the wound, it took half as long for him to feel it. The throbbing in his shoulder intensified as hot blood seeped down his arm and dripped from his fingertips, the gash in his other arm began bleeding heavily as well. Malfoy was going to be sick.
Pressure like a great burst of concentrated wind caught him in the side, cracking one of his ribs like pasta. If Draco hadn't seen his assailant standing before him, he would have believed he'd been kicked. More of the same knives of wind sliced into his thighs, leaving gaping holes, his legs twitched as he screamed and his pants, below the knee, ran dark with blood.
Another burning line of pain, just like the first ran across his skin. He could see the magic in the blood that was dripping from his shoes, he could feel it in his bones, filling every inch of him and making his body scream in pain. His bones were hollowed by the flow, broken into infinitesimal pieces though they retained their shape. His blood turned to battery acid in his veins, burning every capsule. His body was being violently ripped apart by the burning magic, but the only physical evidence of the occurrence was the line on his back. And his screams of agony.
Malfoy screamed himself hoarse, he could feel the air tearing through his throat and desecrating his vocal chords, but he couldn't hear a sound. All he knew was the pain. Then he was cold again.
*
Scion tossed the boy aside, with a wave of his hand he let the magic he so rarely used bear him into a tree. The blonde slid to the base of the large oak and grunted, no longer able to scream. With his advanced hearing, he heard a bone crack and heard the boy cough. It was a wet cough, a bloody cough; Scion could smell lymph and the acid in the liquid. The boy would die soon; he was not to be bothered by him any more.
Birdy was sitting with a horrified expression on his gentle face, his mouth open just a fraction, but the change could not have been more significant had he been shrieking. Apparently the blonde had been of some import to him but that was of no consequence because he would soon be forgotten. Scion would introduce Harry to a world of wonders far beyond the irritating boy. He would do it now, in this forest, in familiar territory. Birdy would wake up, safe and close to home, then they would be away, never to come back.
"Come little one." Harry sprung to his feet, though he had not given his body permission to do so. He moved towards Scion just as he had left the infirmary, moving slowly and steadily about three inches off the ground, he floated towards the vampire. "Come to me."
At last, Birdy was in his arms again, soft and perfect as ever. This time there would be no distractions, there was no one left to kill. No one but Harry, but Harry he would bring back. He was so warm it was almost a shame, but after all of this, after all of the effort he had gone to, after the energy he had expended to obtain the rare jewel that was Harry Potter, he would not be put off by the boy's warmth.
Scion smiled and opened his mouth, tilting Harry's head to the side with a gentle caress and exposing his neck. He softened the skin with his mouth, almost reverently tasting the boy before he bit. Hard, deep into the artery, letting the blood pump into his mouth. The sweet, sweet blood, better than anything he had ever known as a mortal, warm, intoxicating, and addictive. This was ecstasy of the most incredible sort, a rapture he had known but four times before.
This was the perfection that had kept him along all this time when others of his kind fell to the weakness and insanity of utter desolation. This was the soul that renewed his faith. A soul that would always belong to him.
*
All hope was lost; he knew it better than he knew his name. Malfoy was dead; the only person that even knew of his existence in this forest could never tell a single soul. If he could have cried, he would have. Why did life insist on torturing him so?! Everything he'd ever known was ripped apart before his eyes, slowly his friendships had disintegrated because of the emotional and political ramifications, the pressure of being Harry Potter. His ties had begun to fray, he didn't communicate to Ron and Hermione like he used to, Dumbledore had finally gotten fed up with him, speaking to him only in reference to Voldemort. But Voldemort was dead, so was Malfoy, his constants had been eliminated. He watched everything as it fell apart, and now he would witness his own death, as though through a window.
He couldn't let himself die, he couldn't just give up. His parents, his godfather, his rival in romance and the Tri-Wizard tournament, Moody, now Malfoy... every one was dead because of him. For them, for their memory, he wouldn't let himself die. He wouldn't give up until every possible option was extinct. He wouldn't die until this bastard sucked every drop of blood out of him. He wouldn't die until he took Scion with him. He would have given anything if one of them had just… backed off….
*
He couldn't move. It was strange how death had teased him, for the last two hours he'd known he would die, now it was here to claim him, and he wasn't ready. There was hope, there had to have been hope. His arm throbbed, upon impact with the tree, his collar bone had snapped and he bit deeply into his tongue; splinters and tree bark had nestled into the open gash on his back, there was a hole in his shoulder, and his thighs were still languidly pumping blood from the wounds that the vampire had inflicted on him. Malfoy was very much alive, but not for much longer. He probably couldn't walk, and he didn't have the energy to try, but he had to. For Harry's sake, he wanted to.
Malfoy shifted his head to the side, scanning the ground for anything useful. It hurt like hell to move, even that little bit, but he had done it and the effort had been more than worth it. There on the ground, about two feet from his broken arm lay the discarded cross. It glinted in the weak moon light, the platinum just as beautiful as the day it was bought, polished and brilliant in the clean snow. Draco almost cried for relief, it was the only thing he had.
The vampire hadn't detected his wand, he hadn't thought twice about taking it off the blonde. Malfoy wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, for the first time since he'd been out here, he had a plan. He couldn't use his magic just yet; he was too weak to waste it, so with much pain and even more caution he sidled over to his cross. The vampire's magic was still singing through his bones; had he the energy he would have coughed again being unable to scream.
Clenched in his hand, the cold piece of metal felt like a toothpick in the face of a giant. It would have been a wonderful asset if he'd had a large club and a piece of meat caught between his molars, but without those things, it was of little use. He had to believe, he had to count on the fact that hundreds of thousands of people prayed to crosses and crucifixes and the god that they represented. Hundreds of thousands of people had faith in the piece of metal he held in his hand, there had to be a reason.
Malfoy slowly drew out his wand and with a remarkable display of balance for one that was bleeding as heavily as he was, he set the cross at its tip, lying the flat metal against the round nose of his wand. It was now or never as Malfoy summoned all the strength he had left and poured it into a spell. The tip of his wand grew hot, and it turned a fiery red, the damp cross on its tip sputtered a bit. He poured more energy into it, repeating the incantation, the thin cross grew red, the tip of the wand white. He was probably destroying the wood that encased the dragon's heart string but there was hope.
The metal slowly began to melt and it dripped down the side of the wand, miraculously retaining the form of the cross. Malfoy ended the spell the second he saw this happen, his mother's cross was now a part of his wand, the magic would forever be tainted by the faith that could destroy the vampire. Let him die. Horribly.
The blonde couldn't risk dropping his wand and catching the damp loam on fire, so even though it made his wrist ache, he held the wand perpendicular to the forest floor until any semblance of color and heat had vanished.
*
Bliss.
*
Misery.
*
Agony.
*
Harry still couldn't move, he was still paralyzed by Scion's spell but his senses were becoming more and more refined. His hearing became more acute, he could smell the rot of leaves buried under the snow, he could taste the remains of the butterbeer from Hogsmeade – that had seemed so long ago, years ago – he couldn't see anything, but he could feel that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He could feel his life draining away.
There was a rustling, Scion was moaning, his hands and feet were numb, his head was light. There was still a rustling. His head fell against Scion's shoulder though he still stared out over the black clad barrier. In front of him, he saw something stirring, through his blurred vision he saw a flash of light and heard some grunting. He couldn't imagine what it was, he was so dizzy and weak, he was going to die if he couldn't move. Scion's spell was weakening as he became more distracted, but so was Harry.
From the thick of the forest, Malfoy came crawling into the forest. His face was twisted in pain, and his skin pallid and white as a sheet – Harry could see it clear as day even through the haze of his bad vision. He watched as Malfoy climbed to his feet and leaned heavily against a tree, "Let Potter go."
He jerked violently, the tree behind him cracked, he would have flown at the command of Scion's power, but there was nowhere to go. With a weak groan, he slumped to the ground. Harry stared at him desperately, Malfoy was dying for him.
Harry felt familiar stinging behind his eyes, burning, itching, hot and stinging. Hot liquid dripped from his eyes, warm it ran sideways down his face and dripped from the tip of his nose, falling cold on to Scion's shoulder. Everything that was boiling, repressed under the surface came bubbling up at the sight of Malfoy lying, unblinking under the large tree. This was all so wrong, Malfoy should have been anything but dead, he should have been a pompous bastard, he should have been laughing in the castle about Neville's idiocy, he should not have been dead! How had things gotten so screwed up? In one day, everything had come crashing down.
Harry cried harder, he couldn't do anything but cry it seemed. He couldn't do anything to protect himself, from anything.
*
He wasn't going to ask nicely anymore. There was no reason for any of this, he could have walked away but he stayed. Now he would never leave, Harry was almost dead, surely the vampire had drained him by now, he was almost dead. There was so much he wanted to do now, so much that he wanted to say, he wanted to see the Slytherin dorms again, he wanted to eat pumpkin pasties again, hell, he wanted to call Granger a Mudblood again.
Then he saw Harry cry.
That was something he didn't want to see again. That was something he had never imagined he'd see in his entire life, Harry was strong. Harry never cried, that article by Rita Skeeter had been pure bullshit, Harry never cried. Maybe for his family, maybe as a baby, but never, NEVER would he cry in front of an enemy. Malfoy couldn't stand seeing that, and he sure as hell didn't want it to be the last thing he saw.
He raised his wand. It took more effort than he would have thought possible. "Harry…"
*
Maybe it was a miracle, there was no spell that initiated the turn of the tides. It might have been the same force that had caused sparks when he first picked up his wand, it might have been the effort of a desire so powerful that no one understood, but somewhere in the cosmos, something clicked. Something worked.
Malfoy's wand emitted a great light, Scion turned away from Harry, dropping his limp corpse to the forest floor, just in time to see the blast that spelled his doom. The vampire shrieked as it hit him, burning him from the inside just as his spell had done to Draco. Malfoy watched aghast as Harry fell to the ground, his head hit an uprooted tree root, instead of marveling at the specter of the vampire. The immortal became a burning husk of ash as he died.
"Harry…"
Post Author's Notes: Bloody Hell! That was a long chapter, 5,695 words,
I beat myself by over 2000 words, jeez. Hey, did anyone catch the incongruity in Scion saying he didn't miss his soul? I don't know where that came from, I'm pretty sick (feverish and I may be delusional), but I thought it was funny. Oh, and I killed Moody. I couldn't bring myself to off Tonks or one of the Weasleys, they're too cool, but I'm doing an irony theme in this story, and Moody's always so careful… ::laughs… then runs off to blow her nose::
Did you know, I watched the Princess Bride this Saturday (there was nothing else on and I have a love of semi-witty repartee in the face of idiocy) and Wesley (better known as the Dread Pirate Roberts or Cary Elwes) reminds me of Draco. Blonde, slender, handsome, pretty eyes… gorgeous… it inspired me to writing.
One last very important thing about this chapter! There's this whole, Christian crosses thing with our Dearest Draco. I'm not Christian, I don't hold particular stock in amulets or whatever. HOWEVER! I do believe that if enough people place enough trust in a symbol, it begins to have power. Think for example of the Swastika (Sorry Jollinar, it's the only universally powerful example I can think of… I'm not being prejudiced I promise I like Germany, it was really pretty when I went there), it holds a certain sway over the thoughts of the people and is generally considered a sign of evil because of what it was used for. You know? A shudder of fear and all that. Well, Christianity and the faith placed in God (or whatever) is much bigger than Nazi Germany, therefore more powerful, the ultimate faith of millions of people is the only thing that gives their symbols power. I used that. Actually, for your supply of useless information, the Swastika was, in both Native America and Japan, a symbol of good luck and balance. The things you learn in second grade (and from Blade of the Immortal ^_^, the comic).