Penndragonne

By Tashasaphi

Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I'm a University student. If I owned Harry, Draco or the Harry Potter Franchise, would I really be bothering?

I do, however, own Orion and Aquilla. Not that that's anything to be proud of, but hey.

Year 6 and all is not well at Hogwarts. After a devastating attack on the castle, the world is turned topsy turvy for the work-stressed Harry, and he finds a new light in a new companion…A story of love, friendship and abusing ones minions

WARNINGS: SLASH!

Also warnings... : This story is quite dark. I think black becomes me.

A/N

When I write a chapter I make a list of plot points I need to cover. Sometimes I write about three chapters worth at once. I restrict it to about 5 or 6 a chapter. Well. I try to. I think there are seven in this chapter. From now on every single chapter will have a point which will be followed by the words 'SMUT FIX' because I've deprived you for long. This might be a frisky make out scene, full on sex, Lucius style torture or something fun. But I digress from my point. As I go, I delete these plot points for a sense of accomplishment. As I write this, I keep seeing those plot points vanish, and I move them about, wiggle the order, and still they keep going. And as I delete each one, a thought runs through my head that doesn't usually run through my head:

THE TIME IS FINALLY HERE!

I've been plotting this scene since the beginning. And I am so looking forward to it. As I write this, I have 5 plot points to cover, but like a pleasant day, they're going so fast. I'm going to savour them, but try and get this chapter out soon.

Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for waiting so long.

The time is finally here.

Draco Malfoy is back at Hogwarts.

WARNINGS:

Torture, M/M/M, Questionable Consent, BDSM, Blood play

Apologies for Delay:

I went on Holiday, twice, I did an entire Manga in a week for a competition, I moved out of home and into Uni. I am so sorry this took so long, but this has been a PARTICULARLY busy time for me. I will try harder!

Christmas was drawing in fast. There were just two weeks of term left. The Gryffindor common room was a jumble of gold and red glittering ornaments and flags, and the atmosphere was warm and festive. However, in the Slytherin common room, despite the twinkling beauty of the silvery, sparse ornamentation and frosted bunches of Christmas greenery, the atmosphere was subdued, restless, unhappy. These were the children of death eaters, the children of the revolution. Children who had been betrayed, or knew those who had been betrayed. Children who had seen their friends or family carted away to become servants to the devil. Children who were alone, isolated within their community. Who was the child of a Death Eater? Who was a child of the new rebelling dark force? Who was a child of a family who sympathised with the light, or refused to take a side? Who would be next to die? Who would be next to crack? Who would be next to suffer, to be tortured, to vanish?

Who would be the next Draco Malfoy?

He'd become some what of a legend in the lower regions of the castle. Everyone knew his name. Regal, blunt, moody, he spent his time studying or doing something particularly regal like conjuring and playing the piano or sketching or just sitting in on of the large secret study rooms, staring up into the lake which, through a wall of paned glass, sent trickles of blue, dappled light and the shadows of fish across the floor and the fine angles of his face. You did as you were told with Draco Malfoy. His Dad was a powerful Death Eater. He was growing to be a powerful wizard. And all the tough kids who punched hard did his bidding. You did not mess with Draco Malfoy. You were privileged to spend time in his presence. You did not ever doubt that.

Except he wasn't the faithful little crony of the Dark Lord that everyone always thought he was. He hadn't got a dark mark. Voldemort, when he had attacked the school, could have plucked Harry Potter out of the crowd, surely. No. He chose Draco Malfoy. And he tortured him, within an inch of life, and into madness. He'd hardly spoken. He'd spent most of his time in his room or in the hospital wing. He'd screamed. All night. Last time anyone had checked, Draco Malfoy did not scream. He ranted, he raved, he shouted, he hissed, he drawled, he sneered, but he did not scream. Not unless he was really suffering. Not unless he couldn't hold it back. Now, nothing was held back. He was laid bare, the terrified, torn young man, lost in a complicated world that he couldn't cope with, though he was doing his damned best.

And then, he was gone. And no one could find him.

But Pansy Parkinson had a damn good idea where he might be.

'Theo, you've got classes with Weasley, right?'

'Yeah,' Theodore Nott replied, bored. 'Sports Medi-Magic.' Pansy frowned at him for his lack of enthusiasm.

'Well, you can keep an eye on him. Ask him about Draco.' She tossed him a small canister. Theodore frowned. 'It's Veritaspray. Don't waste it.'

'This stuffs illegal!' Theodore chocked, sitting bolt upright. 'I heard it turned some guy in Nepal blind!' Pansy rolled her eyes.

'I got a supply in when Daddy went to Pakistan in the summer,' she said firmly. 'And that moron sprayed it in his eyes. You just need stand behind Weasley and spray over his head, towards his face. He'll inhale it, and then you can ask him whatever you want.' She turned to Blaise, tossing him a canister. 'You can get Granger in Arithmancy.'

'Fine,' he replied dryly. Pansy glanced around the room.

'Someone's got to get Potter,' she grumbled. 'I want that penndragonne as soon as possible.'

'Forget it,' Blaise drawled. 'Dumbledore's golden boy? You so much as touch a hair on his mutilated head and you'll be getting an enema from an angry auror. We're lucky we weren't in the castle when we abducted him off the breeder.' Blaise frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 'And if we hadn't of hi-tailed it back to the castle so quickly afterwards, I think that auror who was trailing us would have found some interesting crevice for his wand.'

'You're so pessimistic, Blaise,' Pansy chided, leaning on a table, looking up through the glass to the swaying kelp of the lake. 'Besides, you know you'd love it.'

'Shut up, insolent wench!' A bell went off somewhere distant.

'Class,' Theodore noted. 'I've got a free third period.'

'Me too,' Pansy said, nodding to some minions as they left. 'Blaise?'

'Arithmancy.'

'Well, get Granger then. We'll do a proper meeting at lunch. And stop moping Blaise, for goodness sake!'

'So help me woman, I will hex you…'

Transfiguration was second period. Harry was nervous. McGonnagal had not forgotten the tea incident of the previous week, and she had a glint in her eyes that told Harry she was not going to be forgiving. Most people in the class had brought their pet along- Hermione had Crookshanks and Ron was containing pig with a cardboard box that kept scuttling across the table- and the rest had been presented with puppies or grass snakes or goldfish. Silver was yawning in front of Harry- Harry had stayed up late the night before chatting to Ryan. The enigmatic new housemate had so much to say. Harry really didn't see why he was getting under Ron's skin so badly- he was such a kind person. He was strange in that he wasn't like the rest of Harry's dorm-mates- he was refined and quiet and oddly wise, but at the same time, he was a great person. He could laugh at the same things and keep up with conversation. He kept his own interests to himself, but got involved with everyone else's. He was very likable. Silver hated him. Silver had refused to go to sleep until Harry had drawn the curtains for the night and lain down himself. The little dragon had sat, glaring at Ryan, but ducking out of sight whenever he was spotted. Ryan thought it was cute. Harry thought Silver was just being silly. And Silver… well he didn't know what he thought, but he knew he didn't like Ryan one bit.

'Today,' Professor McGonnagal boomed. 'We are going to study two opposite Spells, which have been employed by Wizards throughout the centuries in their defence, or indeed for duelling. I should hope that you will use these spells for defence purposes. In these times the frivolity and risk caused by duelling is not an acceptable use of your time.' Harry winced. McGonnagal sounded sterner than usual today. He'd heard a rumour that Lucius Malfoy was coming to Hogwarts in the next few days. Maybe the idea of having a convicted Death Eater roaming her school was a little too much for her.

'The Spells you will be learning, as I have mentioned, are opposites. They develop the target to the end of its evolutionary spiral, as far it can go, and the other will return it to its original form.' Hermione's hand shot up. 'Finite Incantatem won't work in this particular case because of the complex level of cell and DNA generation or degeneration occurs.' Hermione put her hand back down. 'You can also use the latter spell, the degenerative one, to degenerate a powerful creature into a less complexly evolved one.' She cleared her throat. 'I will demonstrate on this marmoset.' The monkey was sitting on the floor of the class room, chewing cheerily on a bowl of pine nuts. 'Everyone get to a place where they can see, but stay back beyond the first row of desks, please.' The students at the back moved forwards, kneeling up on desks or standing out to the sides. The Marmoset seemed undeterred by all this movement. Harry pondered what McGonnagal might have put in those pine nuts with a wry smile. He picked Silver up off the desk, who was soft and warm and limp where he had been dozing. He curled into Harry's hands affectionately, lashing his long tail around Harry's wrist. Professor McGonngal raised her wand.

'Listen carefully,' she said firmly. 'Marmoset Evolusifors!' The Marmoset froze up, before arching back onto its hind legs and screaming. Its fur seemed to extend, golden brown swirling in a huge bubble, slowly blackening as the scream became deeper and deeper. The swirling vanished in a flash of light and gasps went up from the room as the huge silver back gorilla roared a challenge, beating thick fists upon its dark chest.

'And now,' Professor McGonnagal cut through the disruption. 'Gorilla Retrodecendius!' The Gorilla pinched its eyes shut, reeling backwards into that swirling ball of light, before it swirled back to golden brown and the Marmoset reappeared, blinked bemusedly, cheeping. The class applauded, clearly impressed. Silver, however, was not. And Harry had lost all feeling in his fingers.

'Silver, let go,' he grumbled, trying to dislodge the pricking claws. Silver had no intention of letting go. He was chirruping and flicking his wings and lashing his head and generally making a scene. It was hard for Harry to tell if he was frightened, scared, excited or what. He was just… loud. Professor MCGonnagal ushered the students back to their seats.

'The Marmoset became a Gorilla. I'm sure that was apparent. Marmosets are Monkeys. Their evolutionary path has diverted from apes such as Chimpanzees or Orang-utans. The Evolusifors spell has bridged this gap somewhat, and the monkey evolved into a Gorilla.' She frowned. Hermione was taking fervent notes. 'Had I of used a more evolved ape, for example a chimpanzee, we would have seen a human sitting on the floor here, or at least something very similar.' She frowned. 'However, since naked humans are really not appropriate in the class room, I won't be showing you that today.' There were a few mumbled complaints. Professor McGonnagal ignored them irritably.

'You all have your subjects. You will practise the Evolusifors spell first. Off you go.'

The students hadn't so much as raised their wands when a huge booming voice echoed through the school.

'All Students will return immediately to their dormitories. They will be escorted by their head of years. Slytherins to meet in the entrance hall, Hufflepuffs in the Great Hall, Ravenclaw in the third floor corridor and Gryffindors on the 7th floor in the ante chamber to their common room. All Heads of House to make their way to the designated area for registration. All students are then to proceed to their dormitories immediately. No student may stay in their Common Room or elsewhere. All this is to be completed with utmost haste.'

'Was that Dumbledore?' Susan Bones asked Hermione quietly.

'No,' Ron replied. 'That's a Ministry Official.'

They looked at one another and frowned. Silver nuzzled into Harry's neck, trembling.

Something big was happening.

Hermione bade Blaise a swift goodbye when they reached the stairs that split, leading them up into the castle or down towards the dungeons. Pansy, who met Blaise there, flashed Harry a meaningful look, but since Harry had little knowledge of what went on in a girl's head, let alone a Slytherin girl's head (they were a slightly different breed), he ignored her, flatly, and hurried up to the tower with the rest of his dorm mates.

Ryan had been spending his free period down in the dungeons with a tutor (in the form of Professor Trelawny). Moments prior to the Ministry Alarm, he had complained of a fever and had told his teacher he was heading off to the Hospital Wing. Mumbling about 'a destiny most clouded', Professor Trelawny had made her way back to the haven of her tower, and Ryan had snuck round the corner. He knew what was coming. He frowned as he prowled the corridors in the bowels of the building. He hated to admit it, but he was nervous. He had no reason to be nervous- he was the one in control! And that moron wasn't going to find anything anyway. Draco-The-Penndragonne was all cosied up in the locked sixth year dormitory of Gryffindor House. And a convicted Death Eater had a snowflakes chance in hell of getting in there. Ryan snorted, his hair and skin paling Orion's natural colouration out of nerves. He'd have better luck trying to infiltrate The Department of Mysteries right now than getting to his precious brat. Orion smirked to himself at the irony.

In a very few minutes, when the doors to the castle banged open and the screech of Chimeras in the cold echoed through the entrance hall, he had precious little to smirk about.

Silver had fallen into an uneasy sleep in Harry's arms, and kept fidgeting unhappily as if he was dreaming of something somewhat troublesome. Harry cradled him loving, stroking a hand over soft feathers and warm velvet skin, feeling the soft steady heartbeat pulsing against his fingers.

'Harry, wipe that goofy smile off your face,' Seamus demanded. 'Some of us are trying to worry here.'

'Sorry,' Harry mumbled, moving the window alcove. As a younger boy he had been able to curl up in it. Now he could barely perch. He peered out of the window, over the grounds. It was a cold wintry day. There was no snow, but in the shadow of trees and buildings the night frost had failed the melt, leaving wintry traces of Jack Frost's midnight mischief. There were thin sheets of ice glimmering over the lake. Harry sighed heavily. Yes, they were locked in their dormitories. Yes, the ministry was here. Yes, it was quite likely that something bad was happening, but he felt… well, pretty damn content. A tiny precious life was bundled against him, clinging for support and warmth and love, and he was only to happy to give. Now was not the time to be worrying about Voldemort. Let that wait until the next vision, the next burning headache, the next Daily Prophet report. Let it all wait. Harry raised the dozing Silver to his face, gazing into those frosted pools of sparkling light. He smiled as Silver blinked at him, before yawning widely. With a thrumming purr, Silver extended his neck, pressing his snout gently against the dip in Harry's bottom lip, before turning his head, nuzzling and licking at the skin briefly. In seconds he was coiling back down into the warm luxury of sleep. Harry turned his head to look back out of the window, letting the coil of mercury skin pool into his lap, broomstick calloused fingers playing gently with slim white feathers. Let the world wait.

'Lucius is here. That's got to be it.'

'He'll be looking for Draco,' Blaise noted as they sat in the main common room on the sofas nearest the green fireplace. Professor Snape was sitting anxiously by the door. He had no intention of sending them to their dormitories.

'Of course he will be,' Pansy snapped, pacing. 'But he won't find him.' She shook her head. 'He can't. Draco's locked up in that bloody tower with Potter, and there's no way he's getting in there.'

'Besides,' Blaise drawled. 'They're probably snuggling. And no one needs to see that.'

'Blaise,' Pansy growled. 'As tolerant as I usually am, now is neither the time nor the place for your homoerotic fantasies.' Blaise choked. 'So kindly take them and your right hand off somewhere private or shut up and help me think.' Blaise said nothing for a while.

'Think about what?' he ground out. Pansy gave him an exasperated glare. Theodore was chewing the leg off his chocolate frog nervously.

'We're Draco's best friends,' Pansy hissed. 'He's going to be down here any minute to grill us.' Blaise cocked an eyebrow. 'Just you wait! He will! And what have we got to say?'

'That his son's upstairs cuddling with Harry Potter and making kissy faces with his mudblood chums?'

'Basically, yes.'

'Draco didn't want to go and see his dad,' Theodore noted. 'He kept saying that he wasn't ready. That his dad would get angry. That he didn't want to go.' Pansy frowned, a pang in her chest.

'Draco told me… before all of this… that he wanted to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. That this year he didn't want to go home.' She shook her head, sitting on the arm of Theodore's chair. 'he wouldn't tell me why, but he looked really shaken up about it.' She narrowed her eyes. 'I don't think Lucius has been hurting Draco. I mean, for Christ's sake, he's his father. No matter what, he does love him.' She bit a fingernail nervously, bouncing a knee. 'But Lucius has always pushed Draco-'

'Don't we know it,' Blaise groaned.

'- and maybe Draco felt too pressured by it. Maybe he was asking for something terrible.' Blaise frowned, sincere.

'Like what?'

'Like getting his mark,' Pansy mused. 'Though I doubt that. Maybe to perfect his Killing Curse or something like that.' Blaise paled a little.

'Stupid arsehole,' he growled bitterly.

'And then there's the fact he's turned into that lizard,' Theodore hissed, eyeing Snape, who was pacing by the door.

'Yeah…' Pansy mused. 'I had no idea Draco was trying to become an Animagi.' Blaise avoided her look and she glared but said nothing. 'Either way… he's done it.'

'He's done a shoddy job of it,' Blaise mumbled. Pansy snarled.

'And he seems to be stuck. And he's not acting like…' she fumbled for the words. 'like himself. He's acting like… a penndragonne.' Blaise had a hand over the lower half of his face, and was glaring out across the room. Theodore, who had only recently been brought in on the recent developments, was watching Pansy.

'So what do we tell Lucius?' he asked innocently.

'Exactly what he wants to hear,' came the cool, calm reply. Pansy started, standing up and turning in a flash. Blaise was on his feet too. Theodore was frozen in his chair.

'You really shouldn't be in here,' Snape muttered weakly. Lucius shot him an icy look.

'Get a backbone, Severus,' he snarled. To his right stood a servant, dressed in brown formal robes which added to his pale, gaunt look. In his left hand was a near trembling boy in Gryffindor uniform, looking murderous. Snape walked towards Lucius, and the pair sized each other up.

'You really think he's down here?' Snape asked coolly.

'No,' Lucius responded hotly, nostrils flaring. 'But you are standing between me and the informants who are going to lead me to him.' He narrowed eyes that were a mere sliver of steel around a huge black pupil. 'Get out of the way. Now.' Snape curled his lip, but did not move. Without prompting, the servant boy in brown stepped forwards, placing a hand on Snape's arm. Snape tensed as if he'd been struck.

'I'm going to escort you to another room,' the servant said evenly. 'You're going to

comply, or I am going to use force.' Snape stared at the boy, before shooting Lucius a dirty look, and allowed himself to be led, head down, to another doorway. The servant pushed him inside, before gracefully shutting the door. He returned simply to Lucius' side, obedient.

'Thank you, Aquilla,' Lucius said softly. Aquilla nodded. Lucius eyed the three Slytherin children, before shoving Ryan to the floor. He yelped in a hurt sort of fashion, before hissing at Lucius, bearing his teeth. Lucius trod down hard on his hand, twisting his boot and watched without emotion as Ryan squirmed, screaming, before finally relinquishing his false form, fire balls exploding from his hands and striking portraits off the wall.

'Jesus on broomstick,' Theodore hissed. 'That kid was in my Divination class, all this time.' He shook his head, bewildered. 'I didn't notice a thing.'

'Sit down,' Lucius commanded. 'All of you.' Pansy and Blaise did not move, glaring. In a rush of nothing, Aquilla was behind them. He placed a hand on either of their shoulders. Pansy whimpered.

"You will sit,' he said calmly. With no further encouragement, they complied. Aquilla walked behind the sofas and stood in the shadows, watching coolly. Lucius stepped off of Orion, who hissed nastily, before recoiling when Lucius inclined his head towards the creature.

'Get up,' he commanded, before walking towards the Slytherin students. He examined his cane along the length of his nose.

'You know why I'm here,' he said calmly. 'I have come for my son.'

'We don't know where he is,' Pansy spat. Out of nowhere, Aquilla clutched her wrist. She writhed in pain. Lucius nodded, and the pale hand let go. Pansy cradled her arm, scowling.

'You all have information that will be crucial to my investigation,' Lucius informed them, before piercing Blaise with his gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, when Orion got up behind him, cursing in some foreign language. Lucius raised his wand, and with a murmured spell Orion was pinned to the wall, raised from the floor, eyes flashing angrily, snarling like a wild beast.

'You'll have to excuse me, children,' he said gently. 'Aquilla, keep an eye on them.'

'Of course,' Aquilla responded curtly. Lucius crossed the room to Orion, checking his wristband. Good. It wasn't all gone.

'Report, Orion.' Orion wheezed a little, before his face melted into a coy, ghostly smile.

'I thought Aquilla would have given you my report already,' he eased. 'I hope he hasn't been slacking in his duties?' Lucius struck him across the face.

'He's had a spy here,' Theo mumbled. Blaise frowned.

'A spy, who in an odd turn of coincidence, is the sole survivor of the Durmstrang attack.' They all exchanged meaningful looks. Aquilla watched them, sighing quietly. Feh. They weren't trying to run off. Unless Lucius specifically told him to shut them up, he was going to examine the exquisite ceiling carvings.

'You expect me to believe that tripe?' Lucius snarled. 'Oh, I think the boy might be in the castle,' he sneered, mocking the creature pinned to the wall. 'I've established myself… contrived foolery!' Lucius struck Orion again, who snarled in an odd bitonal voice, trying to bite Lucius' hand.

'You wouldn't be here unless you knew the boy was here,' Lucius stated coolly. 'Where in the castle is he?' Orion stayed silent, smirking, a smudge of blood at the corner of his mouth. Infuriated, Lucius struck at him again, before sweeping back over to the Slytherins.

'When did you last see him?' Lucius fired at Pansy.

'B-before the attack,' Pansy responded. 'I've been at St Mungos.'

'You, Zabini,' he turned instantly to Blaise. 'Had he completed his training?'

'No,' Blaise replied calmly. 'He'd managed to turn his skin to scales, but that was about it. His training sort of went on hiatus, because-'

'You, Nott!' Lucius had already turned away. 'How was he before he vanished?' Theodore swallowed.

'Stressed,' he said softly. 'H-he broke his mirror.' He swallowed. 'He said he didn't want to-'

'Now, you see?' Lucius called triumphantly across the room to Orion, who cocked his lowered head arrogantly, eyes flashing. Blaise's head swam and he staggered a little.

'I ask questions, and I get answers. Not some pathetic excuses for your own incompetence.' Orion glared. Lucius raised a pair of green lenses to cover his eyes as the Slytherins sweltered in the angry heat. 'Where do you think he is?' Orion remained silent for a moment.

'He was upset,' he said softly. 'He didn't want to go back to the Manor.' Orion locked eyes with his master. 'He was afraid you'd be angry with his lack of progress.' He looked up at the ceiling. 'If you were upset, under achieving, unbalanced and,' he smirked. 'Slytherin, where would you go?' Lucius narrowed his eyes.

'Enlighten me,' he hissed. Orion sighed still looking up at the ceiling. Aquilla could see the cogs ticking in his quick mind. Suddenly, Orion's face relaxed from it's moment of desperate thought and he lowered his head, smiling nastily. Aquilla mentally groaned. Whatever story he'd manage to piece together was going to be good.

'A little bird told me about a diary,' he mused, watching as Lucius stiffened. 'She told me all about a wonderful man named Tom Riddle, and how he had taken her on a magical adventure into a chamber reserved for those worthy of his blood.' Sharp teeth glinted in the half-light. 'A little chamber, hidden away, lost in myth and legend since the death of its creator.' Lucius scoffed.

'You can't possibly be suggesting-'

'That Draco found a way into the Chamber of Secrets?' Orion cooed airily, a smile playing ghostly games across his blanched lips. 'Why not?' Lucius growled, pacing.

'You, boy.' Orion looked at Theodore, who broke out into a sweat, flushing.

'Yeah?' he mumbled in response.

'Draco was re-reading Hogwarts: A History, was he not?'

'Umm, yeah…' Theodore mumbled. A voice in his head was telling him to agree.

'I crept into his chambers for a look around,' Orion confirmed. 'The boy had a marker on the Slytherin chapters. In his madness, he was looking inside himself for an answer to his weakness. He decided that he was failing his lineage.' Lucius stared at Orion, watching waiting. Finally, he turned away.

'Go on,' he muttered. Orion, behind Lucius' back, grinned. Aquilla shook his head and looked back at the ceiling.

'Draco mastered Imperius last summer,' Orion hissed. 'He used to practise on me, remember?'

'Yes,' Lucius noted. 'I recall your complaints about it. Go on.'

'All you need to get into the Chamber of Secrets is to know the entrance and to speak Parseltongue,' Orion noted.

'Which Draco does not,' Lucius noted. Orion ploughed on.

'But there is one in this school,' Orion's voice with slightly higher, more persuasive.

'And Draco is proficient with Imperius.'

'Harry Potter can resist Imperius,' a faint Pansy hissed just about a breath to Blaise, who was panting a little, face flushed.

'Yeah,' Blaise mumbled. 'But Lucy-poos doesn't know that,' he smirked. 'And that… thing is damn good at bullshitting.'

'What are you suggesting?' Lucius snarled, wand at Orion's throat. Orion laughed a little.

'I'm suggesting, Master,' he hissed the word, somewhere between lovingly and playfully, 'that your son took control of Harry Potter, forced him to lead him to the Chamber of Secrets, open the door and shut it behind him again, and then forget it ever happened.' Lucius opened his mouth. 'And since that day has been lurking down there in the filth and rotting Basilisk having a merry time living off rats.' Orion shrugged. 'Or not, as the case may be. I can't pretend to understand the mind and ways of the psychopath.' Aquilla forced himself not to snort indignantly. Lucius turned away, storming to the end of the room, leaning against the wall. Orion's gaze moved, and Blaise's knees gave out, and Pansy collapsed into her chair.

'This is your… theory, is it?' Lucius asked. Orion smiled, arching his head back.

'Yes,' he said softly. 'But I haven't followed it up.' He purred. 'I thought you'd prefer to do that yourself. After all, it is your brat-' he broke off, crying out in pain as Lucius uttered a spell which crushed him harder against the wall.

'Dumbledore will never let me go down there…' Lucius mumbled. Aquilla rolled his eyes. Orion was right. Malfoys were idiots. Lucius turned to Orion. 'It's better if you lay low whilst you're here… have your spies do your dirty work for you. I can't have you charming Dumbledore for me…' He was worrying his lower lip. Orion winked at Aquilla, who frowned. Lucius raked a hand through his hair.

'Fine. We will have to look into it. Come, Aquilla.'

'Of course, sir,' Aquilla acquiesced. Lucius stalked to the door, before raising his wand with a violent flick. Orion crashed to the floor. Blaise and Pansy gasped in relief. There was a slap of boot leather on the stone floor and a muffled yelp as Orion was dragged to his feet.

'Come on,' Aquilla grumbled, shoving a robes bag into Orion's arms and shoving him after Lucius. The portrait slammed shut. Snape emerged sheepishly from his room. He looked at his students, before rushing off in disgrace, to boil something noxious to take out his anger upon.

The students were excused from lessons until Lunch, and since Professor Willotree had cancelled Myth studies after lunch since she was going unicorn spotting with Professor Grubbly Plank, he had the rest of the day free. He decided to plough ahead with the next chapter of his Medimagic textbook (Bruises, Bruising and General Pain: How to alleviate, remove, and cover up), but first to take a bath. He imagined prolonged submergence of his scratched hand would do wonders for the tingly itching Silver's tiny claws had caused. So, after a hearty lunch of chicken pie, cheese toasties and ginger sponge (Silver had turned his nose up entirely and had picked at Harry's salad garnish dejectedly before decadently lapping at some cream Ginny had presented to him on a teaspoon), Harry scooped up his wash kit and a somewhat sticky ball of feathers and velvet (Neville, in a large gesture, had knocked Silver flying into a half empty bowl of ginger sauce. Granted, said tiny dragon had not been impressed, and Neville was currently, as far as Harry knew, still in the hospital wing having the horizontal gashes on his face sutured) and had headed for the Prefect's bathroom. At this time of day, it would be empty. He'd been caught in there before, but no one paid him any mind. He imagined if that git Malfoy found him in there, all kinds of hell would have to be paid. Mainly to the Malfoy account, of course, but probably in copious quantities of housepoints as well. However that wasn't really a problem at the moment, due to his 'absence', and Harry was more concerned with cleaning the sticky spicy smelling goop out of the very frustrated animal's feathers than losing a few house points Hermione could easily pick back up. He was quite sure gunked up wings weren't healthy in anything with feathers, avian or otherwise.

'Riiiiiiiiiiiieeeep!' Silver whined, coiling and lashing like a particularly dextrous viper. Harry was very awkwardly stripping off his clothes whilst holding the creature at arm's length. He managed the wrestle off his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt.

'Mnnnnnnrrrrrrrrriiiiiiioooaaaaaaaw!' Silver bawled, flapping congealed wings with a melancholy yowl. Harry began shrugging his shirt off his shoulders.

'Knock it off!' he grumbled. 'I'll wash you in a minute, you impatient-'

'Ssssssssssssssssscccaaaaaa!' Silver snapped, biting down hard on Harry's hand. Snarling in pain and frustration, Harry bundled the dragon up in his shirt and plonked him on the floor. As he shoved off his trousers, there was stillness. As he hopped awkwardly , pulling off his socks, the little bundle began to scuttle blindly, mewing miserably.

'Yes, yes...' Harry grumbled as the little white bundle scurried about, bumping into his legs before turning a few circles. He bundled his clothes up in a pile and pushed off his boxers, flinging them on top. He collected Silver up, a few feet poking out from the white cloth, before walking around the bath, turning on taps he knew he liked. He smirked bashfully as he sat on the steps, cautiously unwrapping the bundle in his lap. A sprucey piney smell came from one of the taps, from another a refreshing almost natural tang, and from a third, think creamy vanilla bubbles. Since Malfoy manor, he had realised that he liked these scents. The sweetness of the vanilla, the freshness of the pine and neutral zing... they were the scents he had found in Malfoy's en suite bathroom at Malfoy Manor. Absent mindedly, Harry wondered if Malfoy used those scents at school; if when it wasn't drenched in blood and mess and smashed potions his room smelt like that. If he smelt like that.

'Myo?' Silver crowed, shoving Harry's hands out of the way and plunging headlong into the water of the pool. Harry tossed his shirt aside, rolling his eyes and stood up, walking down the steps and into the water, covering his dignity when the mermaid giggled at him, winking. Silver resurfaced in a spray of bubbles, screaming and caterwauling and generally making a nusiance of himself. Harry settled into the deep pool and waded over, collecting the creature up and taking him back towards the step. Silver was chattering away dolefully, telling Harry an intricate story of his sorrowful existence. However, Dragons, of any size, do not speak Parseltongue, or English, so this was wasted on Harry, whom sat on the second to bottom step and began scrubbing Silver's wings with a brush. Silver curved into the touch, snapping and chirping only when Harry's strokes became too rough. It was a companionable silence between the two. Harry almost chuckled when, as he completed ridding the now drenched feathers of sticky golden goop, Silver let out a quiet sorrowful mumble. Harry laid down his scrubbing brush, picking up his flannel to begin scrubbing his torso. His eyes wandered, and only drifted back to Silver by accident. He did laugh gently this time. The little Dragon, gently fanning his sodden wing, had turned in Harry's lap, and was surreptitiously sitting up on his hind quarters, clawing at the air towards Harry's hands. Harry smirked, and dropped the flannel over Silver's head. Squawking, the creature ran backwards, Harry catching him around the middle before he staggered off Harry's knees and into the water, and lifting him up. The flannel, after a lot of hissing and yowling and thrashing off his head, slipped off, and Silver struck, biting down on Harry's chin toothlessly. Harry flinched a little, but there was no pain.

'Now, now,' Harry said softly, lifting Silver away and staring him in the eye. 'That's not very nice now, is it?' Silver seemed to have a lot to say on that particular subject, and did not stop snapping and chattering until Harry began running the soft cloth over his back. Silver melted, eyes drifting gently shut as his body trembled with a contented purr. Harry used a finger to scratch the top of his tiny tapered head.

'Good boy,' he whispered, running the finger down Silver's back.

And that was when he found them. The patterns that had been burned by fiery fingertips under Silver's skin.

If you are reading on then the following scene had to be mostly cut out because don't like smut. You can find this scene (which is full of evil, bad, nasty mean, bloody filth (don't say I didn't warn you)) at my Adult Fan Fiction Account, which is Tashasaphi. http/ This scene (well, parts of it) will help with later plot devices, so I do suggest reading it. However, if you can't be arsed, that's fine too. OK. Oh, and AFF readers, the following scene is evil and horrible and will give you nightmares. You have been duly warned

A hollow cry of twisted agony echoed around the dripping, festering dungeon, the rabid, wild beasts in the cages around the place roaring and moaning and leaning against their cold iron confines towards the delicious sound of pain. Whatever vaguely sharp implement had been rammed in above his waist was ripped roughly out, and Orion tensed and screamed, his thick red blood, hissing with heat, splattered across the cold floor. Limply he fell back against his bonds, panting, soft whimpers mumbling their way out under his breath.

Dear god, was Lucius angry?

Lucius claimed he did not enjoy torturing anyone. Not even Muggles or Half Blood scum. He claimed it upset him, made it difficult for him to sleep. It was only something his was prescribed to do by his 'master'.

But he was damn good at it. Orion had known that long before he was dragged down here to suffer an afternoon of 'illumination'.

When Orion, aged twelve, tender, young and ferociously wild had been brought by his captor to Malfoy Manor, he had, to begin with, lived in these fetid pits the Malfoys called dungeons. At that time, despite it being 'peacetime' overhead, a time before Voldemort's resurrection, even before his reappearance in the Chamber of Secrets or inside Professor Quirrell, Lucius's dark dealings had not been entirely dormant. Certainly Orion hadn't been acquired through the usual means. Aquilla hadn't been created through the more open channels. Lucius, like Malfoy's far down his line, still kept up a healthy, profitable trade in dark items, often dangerous ones. And of course, he still bred those infernal Chimeras, and they weren't exactly sunshine and daisies, as much as some of them pretended to be. In his time scraping out an existence in the cold, muggy cells, Orion had watched with awe Lucius' torture techniques. Considering his expertise he didn't have all that many tools. It was his proficiency and variety of techniques with the ones he did have that made him so awe inspiring to Orion. It was this awe, amongst factors such as the luxurious lifestyle and Lucius' comparative power and wealth that had kept fickle Orion completely loyal until recently. Lucius could take a man, a strong man, with good powerful morals and a high threshold, and over a period of time, sometimes minutes, sometimes days, the prisoner would become a pliant wreck, weak, wracked with misery and ongoing pain and sleepless agonies. Lucius often used mind altering spells and charms and curses. Sometimes he'd whisper awful things. Sometimes he's demonstrate to his victim exactly what he was about to do on an animal or carcass. Everything was precise and methodical and eerily efficient. And Aquilla was always allowed to watch.

Today was a little different.

Usually, especially when he was angry with Orion, Lucius would rant. He could rant and rave all day, hardly repeating a single notion. He could go on and on and on, sometimes revealing things he shouldn't, sometimes not a thing. But today, he was silent as the grave. There was no demonstration. There was no mind altering. Today he gave Orion a lesson in pain. A lesson he would not be allowed to forget.

And Aquilla, as always, was watching.

Some vicious strap cut violent lines across Orion's pale skin, eliciting yelps and gasps and bitten moans of pain. Orion's toes curled, his whole body stiffening with every blow. Orion did like pain. It was alarming how much he liked pain. But he didn't like blood. Well, not his own anyway. And this pain… was not the sort of pain he enjoyed, anyway. He was loathe to admit it, but he was frightened. Terrified in fact. His eyes were wide, trying to find his aggressor, but failing, his chest rising and falling in desperate gasps. Ribbons of his robes hung from his frame like torn wings, despite his lacking the necessary angelic appeal. And all the while he was seemingly alone with his pain, glinting dark eyes surveyed him from the shadows, cold, hateful and hungry.

What made this worse was the tiniest fragment of decency Orion had was telling him that he deserved Aquilla's loathing, after what he had done to the young man up to this point. There were some hurts that could not be with quick bouts of rambunctious, experimental sex.

And despite its usual usefulness, the fact that this was Orion's forte was not going to get him out of this situation.

Orion let out a sob, trembling with fatigue against his bonds. He pinched his eyes back to bite back tears he would not allow himself to shed. He did not cry. It was not something he permitted himself to do.

'P…' he found himself mumbling. The soft footsteps behind him paused. Orion hung his head.

'Please ssstop…' he managed around lengthened teeth. 'I… I have been…' The steps began again and Orion paused, worrying his already bloodied lip. A hand locked into his hair and wrenched his head backwards.

'Don't stop on my account,' Lucius snarled over his face, iron grey around a dilated pool of blackness scouring a path across the tormented yet beautiful face. Orion whined.

'I shan't disobey you again,' he mumbled meekly. 'I… shall just do whatever you tell me. I… have been… unappreciative of hat you've given me.' Lucius held Orion there for some time, breathing softly against Orion's blanched, clammy skin. Seeing that he couldn't raise a spark from the watery hazel eyes, Lucius released his head, shoving Orion forwards against his straps that bound him to the ceiling.

'Aquilla,' Lucius commanded, and Orion whimpered. He jolted meekly when the dark servant appeared suddenly before him. A hunger he usually suppressed burned deep in his dark eyes. Behind him, Lucius was ripping off the shreds of Orion's robes.

'Oh, Orion,' Lucius sighed heavily. 'My life is troublesome enough without you causing trouble for me.' He clicked his tongue next to Orion's ear. 'First Evelyn, next that ridiculous stunt at Durmstrang, then this fuss with Draco.' Lucius leant his chin on a tormented shoulder. 'Sometimes I wonder what goes through your mind when you seek to hurt me like this.' He scoffed. 'Not a lot, I expect. What does a Siren think of beyond its own carnal and primal needs, after all? I had been told that the Veela portion of your blood would stabilise you a little. Perhaps this is just a little puberty waver.' Lucius pressed a soft kiss to the satin of Orion's throat. 'What do you think?'

'Per… Perhaps.'

'Either way,' Lucius mumbled against the skin. 'I have to teach you that it can't be tolerated. You are one of my dependents, Orion. How shall I show you off to high society if you're going to insist on eating them?' He sighed dolefully. 'Can't you just be satisfied with the sex and a few muggles to chew on from time to time? Once this restriction is lifted I'll be more than happy to cater to those needs.'

'Mnn…' Orion mumbled non-commitantly. Now he wasn't in pain anymore, he felt the desire to separate the head of something from its body. Words were cheap. Humans were foolish. He was quite happy to use these facts to his advantage. And if his advantage would be getting out of these bonds, he'd be very happy to use these facts. Lucius was holding his smaller frame from behind now. Orion could feel the older man's arousal pressing softly against the back of his thigh. He frowned a little. As soon as the expression had formed on his face, his feature softly contorted into gasping, stammering pain. Aquilla, on his knees before the near naked Orion, was biting gently into the quivering silk skin of Orion's inner thigh. Of course, when someone has needle-point teeth and a voracious blood fuelled hunger, a gentle bite is still rather powerful. Little beads of blood rolled temptingly from Aquilla's bite, before being swept up by his tongue, pleased, animal growls rumbling shocks of almost pleasure to Orion's core.

'This is still punishment, Orion,' Lucius warned as Orion's head fell back a little, resting against his shoulder, chest hitching with fearful tiny gulps of air. 'Don't think I've forgotten.'

'Of… of course not,' Orion managed, squeaking a little as Aquilla bit harder. 'Master.'

'Good boy,' Lucius muttered, seemingly placated. Fingers ghosted along the slight curve of his hips, but they were like the footsteps of a spider, waiting for the right moment to bite down with teeth, venom filled. Orion whimpered, before crying out when Aquilla snarled, shaking his head a little, tearing more skin. Orion looked upwards, whimpering, tears beading unshed in his eyelashes. Lucius was doing something, but Orion already knew what. Lucius was going to take him, as if to further drill into him his lowliness as a kept beast, and Orion, thanks to the contraption, would receive no release, if any pleasure at all. Aquilla leant further into his bite, and Orion's voice twisted in panic.

'For god's sake, call him off!' He screamed, lashing and writhing, kicking Aquilla away. The halfblood fell black, a little stunned, lips stained. Orion trembled, breaths hitching, eyes flashing gold and fingers hooking into claws in challenge, thigh twitching as tiny trickles of blood fell from the broken skin.

Crack.

Orion roared, bitonal, before falling back into his meekest form, choking and wheezing in a hurt sort of way, new lash marks across his back sending flooding signals to his brain.

'Do as you will, Aquilla,' Lucius commanded coolly, running his fingers along the burning flesh, Orion hissed. Aquilla drew closer, softly clutching Orion's knee. Orion's eyes widened, and he writhed.

'He's killing me!' He protested. Lucius dug his fingers in, and Orion cried out.

'You try and avoid him one more time, and I'll have him drain you,' Lucius hissed into his ear. 'Do I make myself clear?' Orion didn't say anything. He had pinched his eyes shut, his chest hitching horribly, nostrils puffing out his breath in shallow gasps. Aquilla pushed Orion's knees apart, eyeing him with mixed emotions as he bit into the inside of his right knee. Orion's eyes shot open with a choked sob. As Lucius moved behind him, knocking his legs apart and preparing himself, Aquilla looked gently up, to see Orion looking down. Orion was nothing if not manipulative, self worshipping scum, who did nothing if it did not benefit him in some way. He was greedy, heartless and full of distain. But underneath it all, Aquilla could see that this stemmed from his abandonment as a child- he now sought a safe, stable home to live in, plenty to eat, and a future he could trust in. As perfect as he thought he was, he, like all things mortal, feared death. And the fear that burned in Orion's eyes, begging Aquilla, as his 'friend', to stop, was nearly intoxicating. Aquilla sighed into the wound he had created, ignoring the jolt he caused to Orion's leg. He averted his eyes, feeling Orion tense, trying to call him back to his eyes and failing.

'Aquilla,' Lucius said softly. 'How is he?' Aquilla growled.

'How do you mean, sir,' he asked, lips barely away from the bruised skin. Lucius smiled over Orion's shoulder.

'His flavour,' Lucius asked softly. 'A human palette is not for tasting the subtle taste of blood, I'm afraid.' He dug a thin blade just into the skin of Orion's shoulder. Orion jolted, but didn't dare try to writhe away. Lucius licked up the little bead of blood that appeared. Aquilla did his utmost to not find this arousing to his inner beast.

'How would you say he tastes today?' Lucius asked gently, leaning heavily against Orion. Aquilla looked up at Orion's face, which was half hidden by his ruffled, colourless hair. His mouth, white pale, was trembling with a bitten sob.

'Decadent,' Aquilla said calmly, turning his face back into the bite, closing his jaws hard and listening distantly to Orion's jarring cry of terror. Aquilla reminded himself that Orion deserved this, and got on with his job.

'That sounds about right,' Lucius said softly. And suddenly, Orion was arching and screaming, toes curling, eyes wide in agony. He fell back, hissing. Aquilla, who had stopped biting for a second, frowned. Blood was falling, trickling gently down the curve of Orion's rear, and along the crease at the top of Orion's spread thigh.

Orion was relatively young, and relatively tight. Lucius usually gave him time to adjust, a stretch before he ploughed in, and the kindness of lubricant. Not today. Orion choked, tears falling now, whimpering and whining. He was not aroused at all. Aquilla got the feeling that if he did get at all hard during this, it would be forced rather than personal enjoyment.

And as much as, due to the infection Orion had not yet removed, this pained Aquilla, watching that white, unbitten flesh tremble, stark against the wasted trickles of gore rolling gently along it was more than he could bear.

Orion's movement was restricted, being as he was being held firm by chains and two men, and he felt every movement of Lucius inside of him as he began thrusting, hard, deep, but painfully slowly, missing his prostate almost entirely. Aquilla's fingers bit into his thigh as sharp teeth pierced the paper thin skin at the top of his leg. It didn't hurt like the deep muscle bites further down his leg, but instead there was a fierce acidic sting. As Lucius took him mercilessly, blood from his entrance foaming a little, in pity, Aquilla began gently pulling on him, bringing him to half hardness. At least, if nothing else, it was distracting. Orion glared up at the ceiling, body trembling from fatigue, up through the rusted grate that bathed his spot with sunlight. Rusty water splattered onto his cheek as Lucius' pace increased. A sudden stabbing, new pain in his groin caught his attention. Aquilla, whose eyes were wild, animal, had taken him into his mouth, and whilst seeming to service him, had bitten into the blood engorged organ. A liquid growl reverberated through him.

'You sick fuc- ah!' Orion yelped as Aquilla bit again. Lucius pushed suddenly deeper, and Orion keened.

'Be quiet,' Lucius snarled. And then there was only the noise of flesh on flesh, Orion's stunted whimpers, harsh breathing and the rumbling growls of a feeding beast. Lucius made a grumbling noise, biting onto a whip lash as his pace increased. Orion nearly whimpered, paler than pale due to blood loss. Numbness was beginning to flood his legs, prickling horribly, tearing him away from the haven inside himself where he could ignore this mistreatment of his body.

His mind swirled away… and suddenly Lucius was filling him, and in a rush of snarls, teeth were biting hard into his neck.

His mind went black. And then he was curled up, naked and cold on damp stone, huddling numbly into a ball.

The door swung shut with a dull, ancient thud. The creatures moved aimlessly in their dwellings. The crows screeched from the ventilation grate. Orion's mind dissolved into hatred, and he clamped fingers into his still bleeding wounds and cried.

'And there was nothing in that one either?' Harry asked, flicking hurriedly through his book of Uncommon Dragon Ailments.

'Dobby looked and looked,' Dobby was wringing his tea cosy. 'But there was nothing in any of the books about the dragons Harry Potter asked about.' Harry sighed, wrapping his jumper a little tighter around Silver.

'Are there any other books you could check?' He asked rapidly. 'Or bring to me, even. I can't just leave him here and-'

'Dobby and Winky have checked the Library, Harry Potter sir, and searched all the Professor's private bookcases.' Dobby whined. 'Dobby thinks he shall have to shut his hands in the oven for that…'

'No!' Harry snapped, before sighing. 'No. Dobby, you've done only what I asked… thank you.'

'If there's…'

'No Dobby…' Harry conjured a hot water bottle and some distinctly green 'bluebell flames'. 'I'll just do what I can. Could you bring me a cup of coffee, though?'

'Of course, Harry Potter, sir!' Dobby squealed almost in pleasure, and vanished with a pop. Harry leant on his knees, hands over his face, and groaned. Silver nickered from the table, and gently he looked up. The creature, bundled up in layer upon layer of Harry's old Weasley jumpers and his scarves, as well as being surrounded by a veritable armed force of hot water bottles, enchanted flames and what not, was still trembling with cold. To touch the skin was the brush against ancient, solid ice. His breathing wasn't laboured, but there was, from time to time, a soft, chilled sniffle, a puff of a sneeze or a rasp of chill. Harry didn't understand what could have happened, and how Silver could have plummeted this far into sickness so quickly. Just earlier he'd been chattering away in Transfigurations, causing a stir at dinner, and he was nothing if not lively in the bath. And now, within an hour, he was ice cold, shivering away, eyes liquid and meek, almost apologetic. Harry got up and walked to the window. Ron was outside with his class on the lawn, practising the proper techniques for dealing with Quidditch injuries. Hermione would be off studying god knows what, no doubt with Blaise Zabini (Harry could imagine Ron's rage at the mere mention of the other boys name, and it almost made him smile). He didn't want to risk moving Silver, when he was so weak, and who else within yelling at distance knew a thing about penndragonne welfare? Groaning, Harry slumped down the wall for a momentary sulk.

As Silver huddled closer into himself, he tried to ignore the rushing in his ears that seemed to get louder with every passing second, now rising to fever pitch. It was like the rush of wind as you fell helplessly from the sky, and the roar of the upcoming unforgiving ground, or the snarling of the tide, rushing at you in waves of cold, bitter, swirling malice.

Something, whatever it was, was rushing towards him from within, threatening to flood his already closed mind, and push the heat of the marks from him for good.

Something was coming back. Not arriving for the first time, but returning.

Silver felt his body tremble unnervingly. His claws unclenched, stretching wide, imploringly, as his body began to stiffen.

Harry groaned into his arms again, racking his brains for something, anything that could help. He got up with a start and looked out of the window. No smoke rose from Hagrid's hut, and the faint pink blur that was Professor Grubbly-Plank teaching a group of younger students.

'Damn good day to take a trip, Hagrid,' Harry snarled, before frowning. 'Professor Grubbly-Plank knows just as much… maybe…' He raked a hand through his hair. 'She'd be pretty angry about me interrupting her class… this is important!' With resolve, he spun around, and was about to snatch up Silver, accio his broom and zoom off across the grounds, when something stopped him.

Silver was sitting bolt upright, frozen, eyes huge and wide and glazed over. His wings were loosely unfurled, twitching a little.

'Silver?' Harry managed shakily. Silver seemed… somewhat larger than before, if he was slowly swelling.

'Oh god, he's going to pop,' Harry whimpered, frozen, before scurrying to the books for advice. 'Maybe he's going to do a phoenix and explode… oh please don't explooode.' Harry threw down the utterly useless book and dashed over to the table.

'Silver,' he mumbled. 'Tell me how I can help you… please…' Silver stared blankly back at him, mouth slightly open. His body was dark, but one point on his neck still remained pale.

'Silver…' Harry managed, kneeling down. Silver seemed lost somewhere else, as if enraptured by Siren song or lost in the unfathomable knowledge that this was the end.

'Silver…' Harry managed, one last time, watching eyes falling dark, as he cupped a hand to Silver's head, stroking his neck, thumb brushing over the pale spot.

All hell broke loose.

The blast threw Harry back over the top of the sofa and rolling across the dusty floor. Silver was throw with a crack into the wall next to fireplace. The sound was like unearthly screaming, howling of hot gales and the creak of huge, mighty gates being thrown open when they had been locked shut.

When Harry gathered himself enough to throw himself to his feet, he realised immediately that those lines were the cause of this. That he must have broken some sort of seal. That Silver was no normal penndragonne.

It was mere seconds later when he realised how right he was, and how stupid he had been. How he should have put two and two together. Why bloody Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson were so interested in the tiny scrap of silver flesh. Why Lucius Malfoy never had any luck on any of his searches.

Next to the fire place, steam swirled away from a pale creature, spun gossamer falling in unruly, near angelic patterns over face and neck, torso barely clad in torn, shredded remains of a white school shirt, long, nimble fingers with broken nails biting into the wall like claws. Slender, long legs, splayed like forgotten art, were hung over with ruined, battered grey trousers, and the soles of the feet were ingrained with dirt. Delicate features, pixie-pointed, carved in alabaster, were deathly pale, shadowed in grey by falling, untamed hair, and dark lashes formed a soft curve on cheeks unmarred by a blush.

Harry stared for some time, trembling. Slowly, the boy opened his eyes and stared back at Harry, Silver-grey orbs sliding into focus, glinting in the light from the window.

Draco Malfoy's face moved slowly into a subtle, dreamy smile, head lolling a little.

'Ssssccchhhiii…' He said. Harry's eyes widened.

r+r! r+r!