Disclaimer: All characters are not mine; be proud, I said it.
Would you believe me
if I said I didn't need you
Cause I wouldn't believe you
if you said the same to me
near death, last breath, and
barely hanging on.
would you believe me
if I said I didn't need you?
-Skeptics and True Believers - The Academy Is...
noisy pins in quiet rooms make silence
issalee
Luna had decided early on in her imprisonment that it was best to avoid Bellatrix Lestrange. The woman seemed to have a stranger obsession with her, acting as though Luna was some sort of child she had been more than happy to care for.
It was better to stay with Tynan, who while quite demented was generally quiet and even taught Luna a few things. Her lessons were continued, taught by an old house-elf named Tidget who never attempted to reprimand her, and because of her quick wits and huge amount of time she quickly learned as much as she would have had she been at Hogwarts and a little more.
Luna had been provided with clothes, many of them miniature versions of what Bellatrix and Tynan wore. She had resisted at first, just as she had resisted eating and wearing her hair in the elaborate styles Tidget and another, younger house-elf named Middy fixed for her. But she had, in all ways broken down; when her old clothes had been burned, when they had forced the food onto her, and when they had pulled at her hair, making it stand out and stretch painfully, so that she could be magically held.
Around her second month, they had moved to a castle in the countryside, and a new occupant had been waiting for them.
Genevieve had long, waist-length brown hair and wide, ocher eyes. She would have still been very plain, had it not been for the fact that she had a voluptuous body, and her eyes and hair had an unnatural shine to them that made her all the more mysterious. She needed only to snap her fingers and her outfits would change in remarkably striking ways. Her lips were always painted a blood red and she always had the same, dark green choker around her neck.
Oh, and she was a succubus.
Luna had been frightened by her at first, but she had learned that Genevieve was nothing when it came to Tynan and Bellatrix and Lucius. The trio often went off on business, and Luna was left alone with the young succubus so often that they became near-friends.
It was around March when she heard of what had happened from the young succubus, who always reported to her as much as she could. It was an agreement; in exchange, Luna did not attempt to escape. Every time she had in the past, the same nightmare spell Bellatrix had used on her was placed upon her again, and each time, she lost a shred of her sanity as she heard her mother's screams again and again, and saw everything, all of her horrors, tripled. Genevieve was merely upset because she was without a playmate while Luna was recovering.
"So," The succubus said airily one night. They were sitting on one of the castle's turrets, both on opposite sides, and partly shouting so that they could be heard above the wind. "I have news."
"Speak it," Luna said. She had lost much of her dreamy state during her stay, but when she became serene it was often for longer, more listless amounts of time. She was afraid she was never going to wake up, sometimes.
"Well," Genevieve said, rolling over on the ground and laying an arm across her stomach. She was wearing the same, rather plain ball gown as Luna, only in the dark green she obviously preferred versus Luna's stark white. "It seems that potion that Snape was brewing up has been put to good use."
"What potion?"
"Don't you remember? Goyle told us that the spells he'd made sure his son had placed in Snape's office went to good use. They're still there, and we heard them talking."
"You never told me that," Luna said in an accusatory tone. She stood. "I'm going back inside. I'm cold, and I bet you're just lying."
Genevieve sprang up, and wrapped her arms around the taller girl's waist. The succubus dropped her chin over Luna's shoulder. "But poor Harry has been so affected by it. And your dearest Draco even more! Are you truly that heartless?"
"Don't speak to me about being heartless!" Luna pried the hands off and whirled around to glare at the girl. "You who sucks the soul of men and women alike! Aren't we humans all the same to you?"
"Well, yes," Genevieve said. She closed her eyes and slipped into the darkness. A moment later she reappeared, stretched out on top of one of the battlement's turrets, wearing a slinky yellow dress with one strap nearly falling off. "But that doesn't mean it's not amusing to watch them."
Luna made as if to walk away, but Genevieve only spoke faster. "The two of them started getting restless. The need to bond was driving them crazy. Snape had Draco in his office countless times, and we heard every agonizing moment, as he poured his heart out to his professor. By then Snape had perfected the potion."
"But the potion wouldn't work," Luna said. "Their bond is too strong to be demolished, half-finished or not."
"Ah," Genevieve said, wagging a finger. "That is where you are wrong. They can choose to be separated, and their pain can be dulled enough so that at least Harry will not feel it. And all they need to do is get angry; the potion will amplify their feelings, and make sure it stretches out for a long period of time."
Luna remembered something else. "Will it last until June? When Tynan plans to attack?"
"But of course!" Genevieve clapped her hands and reappeared next Luna, smiling widely. "And by that time, their anger will have either just begun to simmer down or it will have magnified."
"Is there—" Luna considered her next words carefully, and tried to say them in a nonchalant way. "Is there a way to break the spell?"
"Yes! But I'm not telling you."
"Hey!" Luna waved a fist in the air as Genevieve disappeared, leaving only the sound of her laughter behind. Luna wrinkled her nose, and sniffed lightly. To anyone else, she was merely irritated. But she was brushing back tears, determined not to cry. The succubus could still be around, and would withhold information if she thought Luna was too interested.
"Um…"
Luna whirled around, ready to strike out, but instead found herself face to face with a quivering Tidget.
"Miss…miss…Master Tynan wants to see miss. Is miss coming?"
Sighing, Luna nodded and followed the house-elf inside. Behind her, Genevieve took a moment to brush some imaginary dirt off her dress.
"I will so enjoy," she said, "breaking the spirit of this boy who has her enraptured." Genevieve twirled a lock of hair around her finger, eyes gleaming as she melted into the darkness once more.
"Harry Potter, I await you with a thousand strands of patience…"
Harry frowned against the coolness of his pillow, eyes brimming with unshed tears.
This was his third fight with the Slytherin he had believed to be his mate in a day. Each time it was as though they'd regressed; back to the time when all they'd wanted to do was pound each other's heads in.
And it had all began because Harry had refused to move in with Draco.
After the tension started to rise between them because their bond was itching to be renewed, and Draco had gone to Snape enough times to nearly drive the man insane, a plan was concocted—they'd sleep in the same dorm, just in case, to see what would happen.
Harry hadn't been so willing to do so. He knew, as did everyone else, exactly what would happen if he did, and as much as he was starting to realize how strong his feelings for the Slytherin were he wasn't sure he was willing to take such a big step.
Even now, when he remembered it, all he felt was confusion and the sharp backlash of anger.
"Harry," Draco said, bowing gallantly. Harry rolled his eyes but took the proffered hand anyway. They were heading down to the Great Hall to eat dinner. It was quite late, but a Saturday, so it was okay.
Blaise was telling Ginny something that had her blushing and laughing at the same time, and Hermione was chiding the Slytherin under her breath. Ron was walking next to Ginny, glowering angrily at Blaise every step of the way. Pansy, Theo, Carina, Seamus and Dean were laughing outrageously over something Neville had just stuttered out and blushed over.
They seemed like the perfect group, and even as they sat at the far end of the Ravenclaw table (neutral territory) the sharp air of foreboding that had been there since the attack on Hogwarts before Christmas seemed to slack off a little.
"Luv," Draco said, interrupting Harry as he spooned gravy liberally all over his mashed potatoes. The Slytherin seemed nervous—unnaturally so. "You know about the—the bonding, right?"
Harry smiled while Draco cursed himself for stumbling. "Well, yeah, seeing as I'm on the receiving end of it, remember?"
Draco decided that now, while Harry was in such a good mood, it would be best if he just told Harry everything. So he did, stuttering in certain spots and blushing a bright red as he told Harry what Pomfrey had also said, about their…situation, and how all things needed would be provided for them in that same room. Either Draco hadn't noticed Harry's frown and confused features, or he mistook it for something else.
"Stop," Harry said. Draco did so, surprised. "I won't do it."
"What? But—why?"
"I just can't, Draco," Harry said, turning back to his food. He picked at it, al appetite suddenly lost. When he felt the blond's emotions taking a turn for the worst, the Gryffindor turned back.
"Don't do this, not in public," Harry hissed. "We can talk later."
"And why the fuck not? I can bloody do what I want," Draco retorted, but he sounded more like he was sulking than anything. And it was here that Harry made his first mistake.
"Oh, don't be a bloody baby."
Draco stood, attracting the attention of everyone down the table.
"A baby? A baby? I think I'm handling this pretty bloody well considering the fact that this is driving me crazy. I haven't killed you yet, have I?"
"Well, no, but at this rate I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't."
"Don't be so condescending. I wouldn't touch you if I had to."
"That," Harry said, standing as well, "is a lie and you know it."
Draco's next actions were so completely and totally unexpected that all Harry had a chance to do was throw up his hands before he was attacked. When he lowered them, he was drenched in the goblet of pumpkin juice that Draco had been drinking from before.
"W—what?' Harry's mouth flapped open in shock.
Up at the head table, Snape scowled. "They were supposed to drink it, now spread it on their bodies like pigs."
"Same effects, though," Dumbledore said idly.
Snape glared at him.
Harry, who by now had recovered himself, grabbed his own goblet and threw its contents in Draco's face. The blond blinked slowly, surprised by this retaliation before he growled under his breath.
"You bastard," he muttered.
"Actually," Harry said coolly, "I know my parents were married according to law. Yours, I suppose would have been kicked out before they were even in the courtyard of the church."
It was a direct attack, and one that went too far. The teachers were standing, already heading for the group, but Blaise had reached Draco first and was hauling him backwards, Theo and Pansy at his side. The blond put up no resistance. His face had drained of all color, and his eyes lifeless.
"That," Carina said, as she glared at Harry, "was a remarkably stupid thing to do."
And she left.
Harry pounded a fist into his pillow, never once stopping to think about why he was so angry still. It wasn't like him, but then again, it wasn't like Draco to continue the hateful words; not after their mating.
What if it was fake? Harry wondered. All the whispered words. What Draco had said in the infirmary? Were they all part of some twisted, carefully fabricated plan? Had Draco had an actual mate somewhere else?
But Harry liked him too. Maybe it was a spell…
"Some spell," he murmured, and let his head flop on the pillow. How he hated his life…
Luna fidgeted slightly as she sat in Tynan's bedroom. Tidget had crowned her long, blonde hair with pink roses as they had entered, and she was awaiting the arrival of the older witch.
"Miss…" Tidget reappeared. "Miss, Tidget is to give you this. Tidget thinks—he thinks it makes miss feel better…"
"Thank you," Luna replied absently. She took the goblet the house-elf had been handing to her and sipped from it. It tasted vaguely like wine, and she supposed that was what it might have been, only watered down.
Then she felt the wooziness, and knew she had been tricked.
"Tidget," she said, standing, "What's in my drink, you—rotten—Gods…"
Tynan swept gracefully into the room just as Luna collapsed. The lady Malfoy seemed content to just prod gently at Luna's body before she stepped around it carefully. Tynan kneeled on the ground, and smirked wickedly.
"Genevieve!" she called. The succubus appeared, fangs at the ready.
"Is it time, Mistress Malfoy?"
Tynan nodded. "Do as I have told you, and—wait, you greedy thing!" she held out a vial, wrought of glass and gold, and placed it in Genevieve's hand. "And do be careful with it, else I may be tempted to hurt you."
"Of course, Mistress," Genevieve said, not unkindly, before she swooped down. In a moment she was straddling Luna's waist, and she gave a decisive smirk before leaning down and touching her lips to Luna's.
Tynan watched in amusement; she had never seen a succubus at work close up before. There seemed to be virtually no work involved; Genevieve had mumbled some words against Luna's mouth, and then an obvious tug of war over the soul started. Both of the girls seemed to be holding their breaths, and Luna's hands fluttered a few times as she reached faintly to protect herself. Genevieve smacked her forehead lightly, and the small ripple of shock was enough so that the drugged Ravenclaw could do nothing but cease struggling, and the slump.
Tynan frowned. Of course, it would be harder because Luna was a Seer—one with abilities not yet awoken, but a Seer nonetheless. There was a flash of silver light emanating from the Ravenclaw's mouth, and then nothing. Genevieve still did not go back.
The succubus took the golden vial, and held it carefully to Luna's lips as she came up for air. The Ravenclaw choked, and then lay still. A wisp of light, fluttery material settled like a sheen over Genevieve's hand for a moment, before it was coaxed into the vial by some invisible force.
"What did you swallow?" Tynan asked as the girl wiped her mouth.
"Her essence," Genevieve replied, shrugging. "A tidbit of what I could have had, considering the way this soul tasted. Like—like—soft things, soft and light and feathery tastes in my mouth."
"How poetic," Tynan remarked dryly. She took the vial from Genevieve, who was now pouting, and motioned angrily at Tidget. The house-elf had been cowering in a corner but now timidly moved up as the lady Malfoy ordered it about.
"Take this," she said, pointing to Luna's body, "to the lower dungeons. The lower ones, do you hear? Make sure no one sees you and for Merlin's sake, she'll be bleeding soon if I'm correct so be at hand with a rag when I call for you."
As Tidget disappeared with Luna's lifeless body, Genevieve swooned theatrically. "Bleeding? How dreadfully violent. You owe me, now. That girl was my only playmate, and now I've got no one else."
"Darling," Tynan said, crooning softly as she patted the succubus's cheek. "Wait two months, darling, and I shall give you a soul whose taste you will never even be able to describe."
"I can't wait."
Tynan's eyes glittered dangerously as she corked the vial, and tucked it into the folds of her dress.
"Yes, neither can I."
June 1st
Hogwarts Castle
I need something to take my mind off him, Harry decided.
It was afternoon, and he; Ron and Hermione had one of those rare days where they all had the same free period. It was here that he noticed the first of several inconsistencies.
Whereas before, the seating arrangement would have been woefully disorganized (Harry sprawled all over the couch, attempting to finish homework, and Ron leaning over Hermione's shoulder as she swatted him away) now it was unbelievably tense. Ron was sitting in front of the fireplace, scribbling frantically at a Potions essay that should have been done ages ago, and Harry had just managed to finish his. Hermione was sitting primly on the couch, reading a heavy tome.
There was a miserable air between them, like a dark cloak had spread. Harry, suddenly feeling very tired, wondered if they'd had another fight. He realized it had been like this for a while now, and only Draco had distracted him from the inner torture his friends were probably feeling.
A panicked feeling suddenly struck him. Was it because of him they weren't talking? Oh, Merlin, he didn't even know if Ron had maybe disagreed with his relationship with Draco, and Hermione would of course have been compliant with Harry…
"Guys," he said before he could stop himself. "Were you ever upset about the whole Urian thing? That I didn't—didn't do much with you anymore?"
Startled out of their work, his two best friends blinked owlishly at him. Hermione answered first, with a kind smile plastered across her face. "Of course, Harry, at the beginning. But we were fine with it after a while."
"Yeah," Ron said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Harry noted the long look Ron gave Hermione before returning to his essay. The green-eyed boy settled back in his chair, and looked between his two friends again. The tired feeling returned, and he fingered the necklace he wore anxiously. It had been black for nearly three months now, and he was starting to wonder if that beautiful, translucent shade of forest green would ever return.
Ron suddenly gave an angry huff and looked as though he was about to throw his quill down. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione.
"You want to help him out, Herm?"
"No."
The answer was short, and quick, and biting. It was everything Hermione was not, and both Harry and Ron blinked twice in quick succession before Ron stood and threw down his essay.
"I said I was sorry."
"It doesn't matter!" Hermione picked up her haversack and began to throw her things into it as she ranted. "What you did can't be forgiven Ron!"
"What I did was a good thing, for the sake of all humanity!" Ron shouted.
"Hey," Harry said, feeling a little frightened. "Calm down, you two. I'm sure whatever it is, it can be solved, I mean, come on…"
"Shut up! You don't even know what we're talking about!" Hermione turned to scream it at him, before whirling to face Ron. "And I've been looking for that stupid charm and I haven't found any mention of it anywhere!"
"What was with that?" Harry said, a little angrily.
"Oh, great, now you're getting everyone pissed off at you," Ron shot back. "And Harry's done worse than me! Should we have ditched him for killing V—V—Voldemort?"
With that, Hermione snapped.
"Voldemort was a disgusting, nasty creature who didn't deserve to live! Human or not, the little girl was a little girl, and you were still a monster for destroying her." She swung her bag over her shoulders, and yelled her last words at him, tears streaming down her face.
"And I can't be friends with you if you're trying to be like that bastard!"
Harry grabbed her wrist, and opened his mouth to say something but she was crying out at him too. "And you! Doing that to Draco! He's had enough problems, and I've heard from Pansy that he can't even sleep these days! It's all your fault, Harry! Don't you see that? He didn't do anything wrong to you; he waited so long for you Harry and then you just went off on him like that!"
"What? What about you and Ron, you won't even let me know what's going on!"
"You don't have to know everything, Harry," Ron said bitterly. Harry spun to face him, eyes wide and furious.
"If you're going to be like that then fine! If what you did was so terrible that you couldn't even tell me, then maybe you are just like Voldemort!"
"Don't say that," Ron said, eyes narrowed. "If anything you're him."
Harry punched him.
Pansy hadn't been lying. Draco did have trouble sleeping. And waking, for that matter. Every moment he spent conscious, and even unconscious, was invaded with HarryHarryHarry.
Not only was his Urian side suffering, but he had to remember that he hadn't been able to feed or eat since the day before the whole argument had happened. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't even seem to remember what his classes were, and sometimes his name, because all he could think about was green eyes.
The parchment that Pansy had given him had been used several times, for one name, and he was starting to get anxious. Other than being a little tired, Harry seemed to be fine.
The ringlink he still wore around his neck seemed to be constantly warm, and even now as he perched himself on the edge of his chair, it was burning. Outside it was sunny, and he suddenly took the necklace off, placing it in front of him.
Glinting almost evilly at him, the ring lay on the polished wooden surface. Draco snatched it up again, eyes narrowing, and then they softened.
Well I'm gone.
Absently, he bit the end of the chain, letting his fangs slip through the chain's holes, and half-steepled his fingers. The chain dipped in between his fingers, lacing itself between them as though it belonged there. The ring itself dangled on the other side of his hands, and he smiled softly.
Harry was angry with him. He was angry with himself. His friends and Harry's friends were furious at the both of them. What was there to be smiling about?
In four days it would be his birthday. He would be seventeen. And the angriness he had been feeling since March had been fading away gradually. Hogwarts was nearly normal again; most of those that had been captured were straggling home. People had been found, and if dead, buried. There was no word from the Death Eaters, but several who had gotten too anxious in the wait had gone on solo attacks; all had been captured.
Rabastan Lestrange was kept quiet, and the trial had gone on without Harry. It had been decided that at the end of the school year, the Aurors who had been protecting the school would take him to Azkaban, where he would receive the Kiss.
Click.
Draco blinked, and the smile disappeared. Pansy was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Next to her was Blaise, who was holding a camera loosely in his hands.
"Nice picture," the young wizard said. "I'll have to save that."
"Hi," Draco said, not bothering to say another word. He was hungry, he suddenly realized. "Did you get something?"
"Yeah!" Theo appeared from behind them as well, and dropped a bowl filled to the brim with strawberries. They've nearly run out of these in the kitchens, Draco. You'd better be careful.
But the Slytherin wasn't paying attention. He had already begun eating the fruit, red juice dribbling down his fingers as he speared them onto his fangs.
"What was he smiling about, do you think?" Blaise said under his breath.
Pansy shrugged.
Harry was sitting moodily inside of his bed, curtains drawn, when the sun rose three days later. He hadn't spoken a word to Ron and Hermione, and was starting to feel the effects. First Draco, now his two best friends.
Ginny had been exasperated and ranted about how he was going to end up an old hermit at this rate, he had snapped at her to shut up and she had bristled. Blaise, predictably, was now not speaking to him as well.
Ron was missing, from classes and from the general vicinity of the school as well. Harry checked the Marauder's Map almost daily. Hermione now spent so much time in the library it had become a second home to her, and she rarely returned to the common room. Wherever it was Ron went, he disappeared from the Map when he reached it. Harry didn't have the energy to follow.
Neville, surprisingly, had been the first person to tell him he was an idiot, and then Seamus and Dean had quickly declared their allegiance to 'Lord' Neville as well. It helped a little that they weren't speaking to Ron or Hermione as well, but Harry still didn't know what to expect.
It was a Saturday, so Harry had no problems with brooding until noon, and by then everyone had left. When Harry finally slipped out of bed and got dressed, he came downstairs to an empty common room and near-empty castle. Of course, it was the last Hogsmeade weekend, and the third since they'd stationed Aurors around the small village.
Harry ate lunch in silence, eyes automatically darting to the Slytherin table, although no one was there.
As he trudged outside, dark started to fall. Harry tripped over a root, shrouded in the grass, and swore as he tumbled to a halt next to the lake, but didn't bother to pick himself up.
Tomorrow, he reflected, was Draco's birthday.
As soon as the thought implanted himself in his mind, his right arm started to ache. Groaning softly, Harry attempted to stand, but the pain was too much for him. Thunder cracked and a bolt of lighting arched in the shy above him.
"Damnit," he muttered. Rain always picked the worst times to show up. With another half-hearted groan, he pushed himself under the tree.
Harry didn't know how long he stayed there, watching as it grew darker and he steadily grew weaker and sicker. All he knew was that he had never felt so sorry and miserable in his entire life. He'd spent the whole day and this whole time just now thinking about Draco, and with sudden renewed vigor, he decided he was going to apologize as soon as possible.
Come to me, Harry.
Harry remembered the odd dreams he'd been having. His mother and his father, having a picnic, and his mother laughing as James handed her three roses.
"Three, Harry, is my favorite number," she said.
Those dreams were always followed by ones where he was surrounded by blood, the metallic taste in his mouth, matting his hair, clinging to his skin, and the same voice that was calling to him now screaming at, laughing while he screamed.
Harry, you promised.
And Harry collapsed.
The next morning, in Gryffindor tower, his bed was found bloodied and he was missing. No one knew where Harry had went, or why he had left.
And no one was more devastated than Draco.
GAH.
For two days I couldn't upload cuz wouldn't let me.
Er...and for a couple of weeks, I've finally let loose of my obsession with Fruits Basket and moved it to...Fullmetal Alchemist. And I cried tonight, after seeing the last episode, and so before I went to bed I went "DAMMIT" and typed this quickie up and a little crackfic to keep me going for the FMA universe.
On the bad side, now...
I seem to be short several Valentines. That was depressing...ano, I don't even do Valentine's Day, though - which is why I didn't make any special effort to get this out for it. I did, however, type a deathfic starring only Lucius Malfoy and Hermione (in which they are NOT romantically involved, nor inclined to care about each other) but don't expect it to pop up soon. I am wondering whether to erase the ONE inkling of a hint in there where it clearly (SUBTLY) states that Hermione was murdered cuz she didn't want to give up the location of Harry's true love, which is, I think, quite obvious by now.
And I did a new chapter for 50 Things. Shall I post it?
