A/N: This chapter was pretty fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Chapter Seven

Serpent's Blood

He woke up with eyes fluttering weakly as though they were unwilling to open for him. With a conscious struggle, he managed to force them to respond. Immediately, he regretted it. Light hit his eyes suddenly, making them feel as though they might explode. His brain felt swollen in his skull as it was. Having his eyes hurting hadn't helped any.

It took some time for the ache to subside. His eyes focused on the world around him, slowly. The recognition of where he was processed slowly. The feel of cool sheets and the smell of a hospital wafted to his nose. Damn, what had happened to have him sent to the hospital ward?

Memories flooded him suddenly. Beale. DADA. Being attacked. The taste of blood. They came at him with devastating speed. He couldn't catch his breath, it moved so fast. His hand felt heavy as it moved to his chest, as though that would help. It wouldn't, at least not if he couldn't pull whatever it was tight at his throat. Struggling, he grabbed his tie and loosened it. His throat offered his lungs more air. Harry let out a relieved sound.

Something caught his attention. Not through a sound or movement, just because. It was like something persistently tugged him, though nothing was nearby. He turned his head in the direction of the pull.

She sat in silhouette. The brightness of the sun hid her body enough to make her hard to see, but Harry could tell that she was watching him. He could make out that much. She sat with unnatural stillness, like a mannequin . . . or if she moved something would be frightened off.

He couldn't speak. Even if he could, he wasn't sure of what he would have said to her. Something as simple as "are you alright?" was lost to him, for now.

Harry felt uncomfortable thanks to Madam Knight's gaze. He couldn't really see it. He could feel it. Her anger scented the air, and her fear. She was afraid of him? That seemed silly, yet it didn't. Something had gone wrong, but he had no idea of what. All he knew was that he could hear his heart thud in his ears loudly . . . and soon, the sound became double, in harmony.

"Oh, Harry! Thank goodness you're alright!"

A familiar voice pulled him from his near trance. With wide, blurred eyes, he turned to Hermione's concerned face.

"Hermione?" blinking hard, he reached for his glasses, "Hey, yeah . . . I'm alright . . . "

As he put his glasses on, he couldn't help looking over to Madam Knight. However, she no longer watched him. In fact, her back was turned and her feet were on the floor. He looked back to Hermione, and the others who appeared behind her, with a tired, reassuring smile.

"You gave us a scare there, Harry." Ginny pipped up, offering him her own reassuring grin.

"Sorry." He said, swallowing hard. He was so happy to see her smiling at him again, it made him feel a little light headed.

"I knew that Beale guy was no good," Ron suddenly grumbled, "Something about his hair."

Hermione gave him a strange look.

"His hair?"

"Yeah!" Ron nodded, then began making gestures with his hand, "It was all, you know, poofed out and crazed like a mad man!"

Hermione rolled her eyes then focused her attention on Harry. He blushed when he noticed that she caught him staring at Ginny just a little too long to be normal.

"Er . . . " was all she said

"I can't believe it. His first day on the job and he turned out to be a Voldemort lackie. That's DADA teachers for you." Ginny said with a huff

Everyone turned to her with surprise. Harry had a twinge of some sort of pride that she'd said that bastard's name out loud. She didn't seem to have noticed that she'd done something moderately special. He smiled at her, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Ahem," everyone jumped as Dumbledore appeared behind the group, "As you can see Harry is well enough. Madam Pomfrey has already agreed to release him shortly." Everyone looked excited, "However, before I can allow that, I must speak to him in private. So, if you'll excuse us . . . "

Harry sighed inwardly. After the end of last year, he had very little desire to hear what the headmaster had to say. At least, not about this incident. In the back of Harry's mind, he could already feel the older man withholding something important.

"We'll see you soon, Harry." Ron said; the others waved their goodbyes.

Once the room cleared, Dumbledore turned his attention to the woman in the neighboring bed.

"Tyla, if you will." He gestured for her to join them.

Hesitantly, she nodded to the professor. Slowly, she stood and moved closer to Harry's bed. Harry sat up, offering her room to sit. Her eyes narrowed at him briefly before taking the offered spot. An overwhelming urge to touch her washed over him as she bumped into his leg. He watched her shiver, then looked to him. Harry knew that she'd felt a similar sensation. How? He wasn't sure.

"Ah . . . I see that it is true then." Dumbledore said dismally.

Harry's breath caught. He didn't like the tone the old man said that. It definitely couldn't be a good sign for anyone involved.

"What's true, Professor?" Harry asked tentatively

Dumbledore sighed before speaking, "Before I answer that question, Harry, I feel that I must apologize. First of all, despite my better judgement, I did not assign anyone from the Order to protect the school. I thought they would be better served recruiting for the war and protection elsewhere. Also, I am terribly sorry about Professor Beale. I would not have thought that someone so . . . "

"Imbecilic?" Madam Knight offered

"Yes, that covers it. I would have never thought he would be a part of any of Voldemort's plans. Our informant knew nothing of this plan, so we had no time to prepare."

Harry wasn't sure of how to feel about this right now. He was more concerned with this need to gain Madam Knight's attention. He couldn't help darting his attention to her long black braids. He wanted to twirl one around his finger idly. It took everything not to do so.

"I suppose I should move onto more pressing matters." He sighed again, "Let me begin by asking if you are aware what Madam Knight is."

Harry nodded slowly, but uncertainly, "Drageni, right?"

Dumbledore smiled, nodding in confirmation. "Our Ms. Granger certainly has an eye, doesn't she?"

"Actually, sir, it was Ron who figured it out."

Dumbledore's eyes widened with surprise. His smile grew.

"Impressive. At any rate, yes, Madam Knight is a Drageni. As you no doubt know, Drageni blood is very potent magic in its own right. However, something very special happens when blood is shared between a person and a Drageni. A bond is formed. A sharing of magic and mind, perhaps even soul."

Harry looked to Knight for some sort of confirmation. She gave none. Judging by her appearance, this was not a good thing.

"Why do I have a bad feeling there's more?" Harry said heavily

"Generally, the bond is temporary, lasting for a few days at the most. Except in one circumstance: Parselmouths. The Drageni are descendants of a serpentine dragon, very close to a snake. When a Parselmouth and a Drageni share blood, the blood bond changes. It is not so much a sharing of power as a commanding of it."

Harry swallowed hard. This didn't sound good.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

It wasn't Dumbledore who answered. Madam Knight turned on him–her face no longer human. Her eyes filled with darkness with scattered stars. Her teeth grew dangerously sharp. Harry sucked in a shaky breath as fear touched him. He started scooting back, but clawed hands grabbed him roughly. A vague memory of pain on his chest resurfaced. With one hand, he touched his chest.

"It means that you own me, boy." She moved closer, hissing, "And I don't like that."

"Madam Knight, control yourself, please." Dumbledore said and she stopped with hesitation. The professor continued with his explanation. "The Drageni/Parselmouth bond is almost a form of possession. Depending on the Parselmouth's desire, the bond can be more like a partnership or it could be a complete submission, even of will."

"So I could have hardly any control or as much as I want, is what you're saying?" Harry asked, but kept his eyes on the fuming dragon lady

Dumbledore nodded. Knight hissed again, causing Harry to jump.

"I'd sooner kill you than be your slave, boy."

"But you will not, will you, Tyla?" Dumbledore said soothingly, "You've marked him as your master."

She squeezed the hand she used to rip into his skin. The marks were already healed between the rip marks of his shirt, but the magic remained.

"I didn't know what I was doing!" she howled in agony.

"Nevertheless, you marked him. You both will have no choice but to accept each other."

"I won't!" she howled again.

"I don't want to have some dragon as a. . . . a. . . . pet!" Harry had enough problems as it was.

"I am sorry, both of you. If there were some way to break the bond without harm, then I would gladly do it. But this bond is forever because of what you both are."

Harry couldn't breathe. What was he going to do? Guilt washed through him. The idea of having someone bound to you . . . someone you had to master . . . It seemed so wrong.

"Well, now that I have said my part, you two will have to figure out how deep the bond goes. I suspect aspects of both your lives will change. Also, it would do well to keep this as confidential as possible. There are those who would use this to their advantage." He raised a brow at Harry, "I hope that you are not one of them."

The boy's cheeks flushed. Professor Dumbledore couldn't have been suggesting what Harry thought he was? Harry was not that crude!

"Be mindful of your feelings, both of you. Especially you, Harry." With that Professor Dumbledore left the pair to themselves.

Harry stared at Madam Knight, or maybe that should just be Tyla now, considering. Part of him feared that she would attack him, but buried deep down, he knew that she wouldn't. He could feel her need to protect him through their bond. He wondered what she felt from him? Fear, perhaps? Or worse, that need to touch her, comforting both of them. That wouldn't go over well.

Suddenly she was on her knees beside the hospital bed, gasping. Tyla grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to the edge. When he was close enough, her arms wrapped around his waist. She pressed her head into his chest where his heart pounded against his ribs. The shaking of her body quieted the more his heart beat. He placed his hand on the back of her head, stroking the surprisingly soft braids of her hair. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her on him and the warmth of her skin. In that very moment, she was his and no one else's. In that moment, he felt fulfillment . . . he felt . . . Home . . .

A/N2: Oh the fun times I'm about to have with this story...