Authors Notes: Nothing much to say for this chapter other than it's the ritual from Draco's perspective. Thanks to those of you who reviewed and emailed me. It really does help motivate one to continue on faster. Hopefully I can continue to update at timely pace.

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this fic. All characters belong to J.K.Rowlings. No copyright infringement is intended from this writing. I would also like to thank Rowlings, in light of the recent controversy, for not suing the pants off little fan fiction writers like myself. I am deeply grateful that she and others like her continue to allow writers to test their imaginations through fan fiction.

Born and Bred

Chapter Two, Part Two

Draco had to admit that underneath his enthusiasm about tonight's ritual, he was in fact scared. While he had been trained for this very thing since his magical abilities first made themselves known, he had no idea it would come to this so quickly. Tom and his father had been preparing him for this ritual itself for three years now. He knew precisely what to do and exactly what to expect, but still, he was afraid.

This magic was ancient and powerful. Wild magic without a name, and so very dangerous to both it's participants. It's very purpose was to stir the latent wild magic in Harry and have the boy learn to wield it and channel the excess through Draco. As a side effect it would form an inescapable bond between the two.

Of course, if it went wrong the side effects were much more gruesome. Draco shuddered to think upon those who had failed in the past and had turn up at best insane, malformed, freaks. It would do him no good to think on those things anyhow.

As soon as he stepped up to the bubbling cauldron it's magic reached out to envelope him. It knew his purpose here as readily as he himself did. With a look to Harry, the raven-haired boy seemed to catch his purpose too. He followed Draco and took his place on the opposite side of the simmering cauldron.

Draco slowly slid his hands up the row of buttons that started under his chin and with quick efficiency began to divest himself of his shirt. Draco's focused narrowed to Harry and the chant building inside of him. Pushing through the thick barrier separating them he reached and felt out Harry though he could not see him. Hands working of their own accord he began to trace swirling patterns on the other boy's fair skin.

He sensed the tentative stretch of Harry's magic. Like a serpent raising it's head and unwinding it's slender body. Harry began to tremble and Draco felt the boy's panic building in his own mind. Madness was quickly descending over them both, and it was up to Draco alone to soothe the boy back to sanity.

"Wait-no!"

"Shush, Harry. Don't be afraid…"

"No, Draco! It's too much."

A breeze pushed the potion fumes aside momentarily allowing Draco to see the boy for the first time since they began this. Harry was white and a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out over his skin. His pupils were dilated to the point they seemed to swallow up all the verdant green of his irises, but what did show was shining brightly with magical fervor.

"This is what I was trained for Harry. Let yourself go. I'll be here to ground you."

That seemed to be what the boy needed to hear because after a moment of hesitation Draco began to feel Harry releasing one barrier at a time. Suddenly the boy across from him jerked, eyes flashing jade fire. A shockwave of visible magic spun out from him before arcing up and at Draco, catching him in the chest full force. The cauldron gave a deafening crack and blew apart spreading the sticky, green, slime over the clearing.

White hot pain lanced through him bending him backwards. It burned it's way inside of him seeming to electrify every cell, leaving behind a tingling numbness. Distantly, he heard Harry scream. Draco gazed at him entranced by the runes now burning brightly against Harry's pale chest.

Another surge of power welled at the boy's feet, lifting him from the ground. It was seeking him out now. Racing to him from every aspect of the wildlife surrounding them. From the trees, the lake not far away, the dark creatures nestled in the bosom of this terrible forest, the Deatheaters, even from Draco himself.

A faint 'help me' echoed inside of Draco's mind startling him from his trancelike daze. Harry had passed out at some point, as the magic became more demanding. However, he looked awake to Draco. Awake and something truly frightening.

Across from him Harry hung suspended in mid air, feet dangling about three foot from the ground. His posture resembled something from one of those Christian depictions of the crucifixion. Arms flung out, head lolling around aimlessly on his shoulders. His eyes were the worst of it though. They were dark. So very, very dark. Not a bit of color, not even the whites showing. Just the god awful black, as if his pupils had swallowed up everything else that Draco had loved about those vibrant, green eyes.

Abruptly Harry's head snapped up, eyes focusing on Draco with the burning intensity of someone truly wicked and unstable. It would surprise Draco if this creature across from him had an ounce of humanity. Surely something was wrong. This wasn't supposed to be the outcome of this ritual was it? How could his father and Tom possible expect this from Harry? Was this what they had meant by summoning the true Harry from his shell? Was this the great weapon they were always on about? How could they?

Harry grinned as if he heard Draco silent rant. A sinister, spidery twist of his lips. He moved as if to open his mouth and speak, and a plume of inky black smoke curled from the corner of his parted lips. 'Draco, love…' echoed maddeningly in his mind. A thin, white hand snatched itself from it's invisible bond and reached out in Draco's direction.

Draco moved hesitantly closer to the strange Harry impersonator, stepping across the broke shards of the cauldron. 'Scared?' Came the teasing question when he paused slightly out of reach of the floating abomination. "NO!" he cried out grasping ungently onto the cold hand beckoning to him.

Dark Harry clenched the hand tightly in his pulling his other free to snatch at Draco's blonde tresses. He pulled him up by his second handhold leveling that inky jet stare on the grey orbs glaring at him. 'Such defiance' the creature hissed in his mind. 'Don't you trust me, Draco? Don't you love me? Don't you wish to serve me? Worship me?'

"Harry?" Draco groaned, tugging against the unearthly strength holding him. "Who are you? Where's Harry?"

Dark Harry grinned and rubbed his cheek against Draco's forehead. 'Can't you feel me, Draco. I am Harry. Don't you recognize me? Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't this what you were trained for?'

The mocking words struck me far worse than this Harry's semi-violence could. "Yes, indeed I was," I mumble wryly. A sharpened nail runs gingerly down the side of my jaw silencing me effectively. I stifled my urge to struggle. I had gone through worse technically but never had it involved something so positively demonic as my Dark Harry.

'What's the matter, Draco? Don't you want me still? You use to beg for me. Just today you begged for me…' Another mocking grin. 'Won't you beg for me for old times sake?'

"Say…p..please," Draco gritted out around the pain of the tightening hand in his hair.

Dark Harry's eyes narrowed and his grinned turned into something frighteningly unpleasant. He jerked Draco up by his neck quite suddenly, sharp electric-like pain skittered down the blonde's spine. Dark Harry moved closer till Draco nearly breathed in his magic laced breath. 'How…exciting. Pleasantly feisty, but not over the top. I like it when a slave learns how to play.'

"Not yours…Harry's…" Draco argued, clawing uneventfully at the hand around his neck. He was beginning to feel a bit woozy with the lose of air. "Let go!"

'I should just kill you.'

"You can't…you n..nneed me."

'Oh? Is that so?' Dark Harry laughed and flexed his hand enough to make Draco fear that perhaps he was wrong.

Draco, however, was quite sure about this fact. It was the nature of the ritual. Dark Harry was now stuck with his disobedient pet, Draco thought petulantly. A small measure of him gloated his small victory when his captor tried to squeeze his hand and keep it that way. By some unseen force his hand merely flexed back open and he gave up with a growl.

'There are worse things than death…' he bit out.

"If you are my fate, I suppose you are right," Draco laughed calmly.

Dark Harry scowled before his face relaxed, and he pulled the blonde to him, moving to grasp the smaller boy by his waist. He pressed their bodies together suggestively. 'Well then, what do you suggest I do with you?' He moved his head forward to peer at me with those bottomless eyes.

"Give me back my Harry."

'I am your Harry.'

"No-"

'Yes, Draco. Your Harry. Everything dark and bleak and angry, buried in my soul. This is your Harry. Your true Harry. This is how my power will mold me. Does that make you afraid? Unhappy?'

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and pressed himself to that thin chest. Dark Harry's arms tightened around him. His Harry? This was what his Harry really was? This was that dark, forbidden side his Harry kept hidden from Draco and the others. Was this what made Harry unhappy? Harry himself? It made Draco's mind spin itself in circles. Distantly he was aware of the magic still pulsing around and through the two of them. This was his fate. Well then, he could deal with this. He asked for the answers. Now perhaps, he had them. As unpleasant as they were.

"Call off the magic, I'm tired…Harry."

Dark Harry pursed his lips, before he nodded and close his eyes. Slowly he began to build up his shields, siphoning off the magic swirling around them. They began to sink to the earth. As their feet hit the ground Dark Harry gave a mental push and the rest off the magic drained into Draco, who in turn careful distributed it back were it came from.

The order of nature began to restore itself. The wind died down, dark creatures that Draco hadn't noticed gathering began to slink back into the forest. Owls began to hoot off in the distant. The sudden stillness unnerved Draco. He glanced past the quivering creature that held him ,to his Father. There was a profound look of horrified confusion written there in those familiar aristocratic features. He moved his gazed to the similarly horrified Dark Lord standing in front of his father.

Uncertainty settled in Draco's stomach like a stone. This was obviously not the expected outcome. He traced his steps back through the ritual, suddenly terrified he had made a grave error along the way. He could not remember one. With the exception of the creature he now held, everything had happened as Tom and his father had foretold.

Quickly, before he panicked, he drew in a deep breath and tried to still he thoughts. His hands went up to grasp the thin trembling shoulders before him. Abruptly, Harry collapsed. Draco lowered them to the ground and looked to his father.

"Help me. I'm too weak to carry him."

The man shook his head and started forward, Tom following shortly when he had seemingly gathered his wits. The two men approached almost cautiously, kneeling before the boy only after Draco nodded his head in approval. The blonde leveled them with a calm stare as Lucius hefted the boneless boy into his arms in a protective fashion.

"This wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

"No," Lucius confirmed quietly.

"Then, what happened?" Draco hissed, anger boiling in his gut.

"I…I'm not sure. This didn't happen at our ritual," he replied, looking to Tom for confirmation.

Draco let out a disgusted huff, and gathered the slime covered clothing from the ruined altar. He snorted again and tossed the clothing to the nearest Deatheater before stomping up the path to where his father was carrying his bond mate towards the house. This had to be the worst night of his life, he mused sourly.

Draco sat quietly by Harry's bedside waiting for the boy to rouse himself from his slumber. The waiting was getting unbearable. Would Harry wake up Harry, or was Dark Harry all that was left now? Draco shivered against his will. He clenched his hands in the downy comforter, and stifled the helpless scream of frustration gathering in the back of his throat. How could he protect this Harry? When he could barely stomach the site of those eyes the first time?

A soft grunt, and the rustle of silk broke Draco's morose thoughts. He turned and braced himself to meet the gaze he felt resting on him. He lifted his head taking note of the dark smirk. 'Oh, come now, Draco. Why so shy?'

Draco sighed and returned that intense stare. Sure enough those unnatural eyes were staring straight back at him, and the smirk grew into a devilish smile. Draco glanced aside, pushing his hair behind his ears.

"Come now. One would almost think you were disappointed to see me."

The deep, throaty voice made Draco jumped and look back over to his childhood friend. His heart crawled up in his throat when jade gazed back at him. "Harry?" Then he noticed the pupils. Constricted, cat-like pupils. Demon eyes.

"Somewhat better at least?" Harry laughed. Moving to his knees, and holding out his hand. "Come Draco. You can't protect me properly if you can't bare to touch me," Dark Harry taunted.

"I…" Draco searched for something to say but nothing wanted to push past the fog muddling his brain.

Dark Harry sighed and reached out, cold hand clamping around Draco's arm and pulling him roughly onto the bed. "Really, Draco. You're acting like a fucking child," he snarled.

Draco fell across the bed gracelessly, not putting any effort into trying to maintain his dignity. He had a feeling this creature would not particularly care for it in his current mood. Draco merely met his gaze, and kept not resisting. Surely that would calm him.

Harry draped himself casually across his captive. He seemed to be pondering whether or not he intend to eat Draco, but for all the blonde knew, he merely wanted to talk. So Draco kept waiting, tensed for an attack. Readying himself for a verbal spar. Whatever the great unknown that was to come. He, however, was still not prepared for reality.

"I told you, you are afraid of me. Now they're all afraid of me. Even my own father. I would never truly hurt you Draco."

"What about you punishments?" I whispering, thinking on the scars that grace my body. Scars from when Harry couldn't take holding all his darkness in, and needed the sweet release of cutting into smooth alabaster flesh.

"You enjoyed it, Draco. Don't say you didn't. I know when you lie to me."

"Harry," I croaked. "What about when you lied to me Harry? Fine, the punishments I asked for, even begged and craved for, but the secrets? Did you think I would betray you? Did you think I couldn't love this thing you have become? Because I do! I can't just stop! No matter who you are or what you become, I can't make myself hate you! I can't make myself stop craving you! Even if you aren't the Harry I know."

"But I am the Harry-"

"No! You are not my Harry! But I still love you…I can't…Merlin…"

"Shush…Draco," Harry whispered against my brow. "I am your Harry, this is me. It's my own fault you barely know me, but I can't be something I am not anymore. The ritual woke this up Draco. I cannot go back." Harry used his voice and his soft hands to soothe me from my panic. I barely noticed when those hands moved up under the soft silk shirt I had recently donned, and began to rub the tension in my back. I did however notice when a pair of soft moist lips descended down on mine. What was it about something as simple as the soft press of lips that could make you forget all your worries? Forget all your pain. Make you feel so comforted?