The ghost floated beside him, chatting with him about the notebook she was reading. Interesting knowledge about techniques used in the craft - still no mention of the wards, the tree or the contract.
He opened the door with regret, seeing three faces he was hoping to not see again until the ghost was ready to be moved. Flitwick smiled at him and waved behind Severus, and behind Flitwick stood Potter.
"You live," Severus said.
Regretfully, Draco wanted to reply but instead stood to the side to let them pass. "I haven't made much progress on the wards. I was waiting for better news."
"We've been through almost all of the old documents," the ghost backed him up. "Nothing."
"Perhaps another set of eyes would help," Severus said.
The ghost looked livid, hair flaring into the air like a tangle of snakes. Draco was thankful for her fury. It made denying them easier. "Another set of eyes would be useless; the information doesn't exist in the documents." These were his family documents, trade secrets so to speak. It was one thing for the dead girl to read them, quite another for the living and breathing.
"The information just isn't there," the ghost said. "We are following a couple of other leads though."
"Other leads?" Professor Flitwick asked with excitement.
Great, just great. Was she going to tell them the building was alive – they'd lock them both up in St. Mungos? Well, assuming they could move her. He wasn't as lucky as her.
"The crafting ability may be connected to the wards," the ghost proclaimed.
"Some sort of intellectual animation triggering them, designed to protect when the head of the house can't. Yes, that makes sense," Flitwick said. "For some reason the animation must be perceiving our latest runic attempt as an attack."
Not so much as an attack as a slight to its intelligence. But sure, attack sounded better and less crazy.
Draco let the two of them chat as he led them to the library. When the ghost realized where they were being led, she immediately tried to put up a fuss. "We should go to the study. They need to see the tree. I'm sure they'll have some idea-"
"No," Draco said, hoping that would be the end of it.
"The tree is an integral part of all of this, the painting gave us at least that much. They should -" as if her reasoning would persuade him.
"The study, as you have taken to calling it, are my private quarters. No." There was no way he was going to let people he didn't trust into his room - not even Greg had even seen the place. The room was his. It may be his own false sense of security, but it was the only place he could sleep so peacefully without nightmares. Letting people in, people that could possibly hurt him (judging from the facial expressions at saying no), was not an option on the table.
Her cheeks puffed.
"Ah, I thought your old wing was a bit empty," Severus quietly stated.
"I moved to a better location." No bathroom, no closet, nothing like where he'd grown up in. But it was better – far better than any alternative.
A pop sounded throughout the room as Porridge arrived. "Would the master like to serve his guests dinner?"
Knowing Porridge, she'd break down if he told her no. "Yes, in the dining hall."
The ears went up.
"No, we should be taking it in the study – with the tree." The ghost attempted to order. "They need to see the tree."
With a snap of Porridge's fingers, the ghost's mouth shut and for a second the ghost struggled to speak. "If the young master requests the dining room, they eat in the dining room." The fingers snapped again, and the ghost's mouth opened. With that the house elf disappeared.
"How dare she!" Hermione howled.
"House-elf respect is reserved for the living." Draco commented.
At that Snape scoffed, "In this house, I'm not sure it's reserved for anyone."
Draco wondered how Jiffy had handled them when he'd collapsed and been shot. Well, he could only be thankful Jiffy had avoided him being sent to Mungos. Although he'd wanted the elf to get them out of the house. He ignored the comment as if he hadn't heard.
"It's just a room," Harry said, "What exactly are you trying to hide?"
The fact he couldn't sleep in a bed. The fact he didn't want his one place of solace to be intruded upon by other wizards and witches? "It's more about principle, Potter. Surely you don't barge into everyone's houses and demand entry into their private quarters."
Potter narrowed his gaze into a scowl, as if trying to come up with a reason to get entry.
He was going to have to relent, wasn't he? "They can see the other tree and inspect that one to their heart's content."
The ghost opened her mouth, but then shut it. "Fine."
So out of the library they went, and then through several corridors and rooms. Until finally he walked behind a tapestry of a kelpie eating a fisherman.
"I didn't know this corridor existed," Severus said quietly.
"The other corridor is more hidden than this one," Hermione said, "If I hadn't followed the tiger, I wouldn't have found it."
So that is how she came upon him.
He opened the door at the end of the hallway and walked in before them. He walked through the viewing room and opened the doors to the outside garden. This one had a pond, lit with magical light. The fish swam happily in the crystal water. It was a good place to relax. "The rooms were not designed to entertain. They are for reflection."
"And ritual," Professor Flitwick stated.
Draco followed the man's gaze as it swept the room. "It was designed with more advanced magic in mind," Draco conceded.
"Do you use yours for more advanced magic?" The auror asked. Did they think that was why he was not allowing them in?
Draco felt the need to glare, but instead kept his emotions in check. Why were these people so aggravating? "I did use my study to carve Vega and Antares, the dragon and tiger - but no, besides that I have not used it for its other purposes." Well, minus removing the dark mark and preparing the coffin. But he wasn't going to confess to either.
"What is it about the tree that makes you think it is important?" Professor Flitwick seemed to be the only sensible one of the lot.
"It glows at night," Hermione said without holding back. "Well, it sometimes glows at night. Although according to the painting it is in response to Draco sleeping under it."
Severus whipped towards him so fast Draco felt his heart lurch from his chest. The beak of a nose was inches from his face. Draco could feel vomit begin to rise in his throat.
"Sleeping in a room designed for blood rituals and who knows what else, and you don't believe you are doing advanced magic?" Severus hissed. "How long have you been sleeping in a ritualist's playground?"
Fighting the urge to cower, or run - Draco stood his ground, hands turning to fists. His heart leaping in his chest.
"Actually."
Severus' eyes flicked to the ghost.
"The portrait asked that too… He wondered how long you'd been sleeping under it."
Draco could feel all eyes upon him. It made his skin crawl and his vision blur. This was like a Death Eater meeting, and he was the Dark Lord's entertainment for the night. He straightened his shoulders; any form of fear would just be feasted upon. "That is none of your concern."
"Acting like a child-" The man was drawing himself up further and closer. His hand raised as if to grab his shoulder.
It was instinct really, two years of being cornered in hallways coupled with fear. The hawthorn wand was against the man's chest. "Do not touch me," Draco hissed.
"You need to lower that wand," Potter's voice threatened. "Or I will shoot to kill."
Draco could feel a wand at his temple. A quick flicker of his gaze and he met Potter's green eyes burning with anger. He was screwed.
And then he saw movement behind Potter. He could almost see the headline in the daily prophet. Death Eater Creation Kills Boy-Who-Lived. They'd burn Vega. He hadn't moved so fast since Bella last dueled with him.
He dropped his wand, and with his other hand slapped Potter's wand away. Pain trickle into his skin at the touch and sickness filled his stomach. Then he slammed into Potter, making him go sidewise. Even attempting to prepare for the onslaught, he stood little chance. In taking Potter's spot, Draco took the sharp jaws to his jugular.
The weight of the dragon knocked him to the ground. And the dragon, feeding off his panic and pain, went into a frenzy.
It felt as if his arms, hands and throat were being ripped to shreds.
Draco's attempts at stopping the creature failed – Vega couldn't be stilled; he was a guard for a reason. They were rolling in the grass, Draco attempting to pull away.
"I can't get a good shot!" Someone cried out.
The words seemed louder than the sound of Draco's heart. And in that moment, sense came to him.
They were going to shoot Vega.
Determination, Deliberation - And. The apparition disoriented the creature enough for Draco to distance himself several feet.
"Vega-" the words came out hoarse and painfully, Draco was surprised he even had the ability to speak.
The dragon wasn't paying attention though, still caught in a frenzied state of mind. It went back to attacking.
Draco barely got his hands up in time to defend his throat. Several times he called its name, only to have it pull back and attack again. Draco used their connection then. He slammed up his Occulemncy shields to reduce his own pain and panic and then force magic into their bond. "Vega!"
It got the dragon's attention. Finally, the beast blinked and released its bite.
With bleeding hands and arms, Draco attempted to put pressure to his neck. Everything hurt.
Vega screamed, realizing what it had done. The eyes went large, and it started to tremble. Draco could feel the horror and sorrow, emotional pain come back through the bond at him, his shields unable to block it.
Draco released his pressure to calm the dragon. "Vega," he reached only to have it cower away from him. "Vega come here."
Head down, it inched towards him, the screaming became a whimper.
Draco rubbed its head when it got in reach. Seeking affection, the creature then rushed into his chest. The whimper grew louder. With one hand going back to his neck, the other wrapped around Vega. "Shh," he tried to calm it.
Blood dripped down its scales.
Its tail wrapped around him.
He needed to focus; he didn't know how bad the damage was. Regardless, he was very grateful – who knew what Potter would have done or perhaps – what Vega would have done to Potter.
"Jiffy," Draco whispered.
With a pop the house elf arrived. The eyes took in the scene quickly. It vanished with another pop. A good house elf didn't need to be told what to do. A few moments later, blood replenishers were laid before him as well as a chisel. Ah, yes, well his house elf still couldn't go about grabbing a wand, the chisel would do. He'd healed himself with a chisel before, the same chisel as the one pressed into his hand in fact. He closed his eyes to focus, feeling the magic that was second nature by now.
He barely needed to murmur the words, a song really. The words his godfather had once used upon him in the bathroom at Hogwarts mixed with some of his own. Vega's marks were not dark magic. They had needed the modification, just as removing the dark mark from his arm needed the modification.
The second he felt his throat feel normal he drained two blood replenishers. Still not removing his arm around the quiet but trembling dragon, he worked on the arm holding the dragon. Slowly the wounds were healing. He took another bottle.
"Your guests are coming down the corridor," the house elf alerted him.
It took effort, but the house reacted to his will in locking and warding the door. He was unlucky, however, in that the ward did not keep out the ghost.
While the others started yelling and demanding him to open the door, she flew right in.
He kept his head down as he worked, focusing on the puncture and slices on his skin.
"Your elf-" she began to scream but the words on her lips stopped as she came up to him under the tree. Her eyes took in the sight. Her voice lowered, "Is Vega alright?"
The dragon finally moved then, tilting its head away from Draco's chest and towards the ghost. It gave a whimper.
Draco paused in the spell. "Vega is not injured."
"Do they bleed?"
"No, the blood is mine."
"Are you ok?"
Draco looked up then, nobody had asked him that in a long time and wanted an answer from him.
"Your neck," her voice came out in a whisper, and she flew closer to see better. Her hands looked to be tracing out the pattern of his scar that must have been created. "You're not using a wand…"
He turned back to fixing his hand, hands were tricky with all their tendons - he needed to make sure he did not scar it. He removed his arm from the dragon. It whimpered, but another "Shh" seemed to quiet it again.
The elf popped in. More blood replenishers. Now that he looked around his work, he could see there was likely a need for them, he'd lost a lot. The wooden chisel handle was coated and dripping from the bevel, to the blade and off.
"Your elf was modifying the corridors," the ghost accused.
Good, that is why it had taken them so long to get there. Draco lifted his eyes to the elf that was staring with disdain at the ghost.
"You're lucky, he can do a lot more than modify corridors." How many times had the elves, upon his father's request, hidden dark artifacts from aurors? Let alone poison a few members in the lower ranks of the Death Eaters for threatening Narcissa.
The elf looked at him, eyes going to his neck. It had a rag and bowl of water. It then began to clean him. "Young master had already threatened them, Jiffy need not make the situation worse."
Yes, if his elf had harmed a wizard or witch mayhem would have broken out. Looking at Jiffy from the corner of his eyes, he wondered if the elf knew his gratitude. He returned his focus back to his wounds. He didn't know how he was going to do his right hand; he didn't have ambidexterity and if he scarred his right hand, it would hinder his ability. The spell always left marks, but only when poorly done did it leave tissue damage in its wake.
As if reading his mind the ghost commented, "If you let them in, they'll help you."
Both him and the elf scoffed. As if they wouldn't cart him off to Azkaban for hell of it. Not to mention they'd need to touch him. He couldn't take the potion now, not with blood replenishers - he'd kill himself.
"Young master should always take his potion when guests come over," the elf reprimanded quietly.
"Yes, this is my fault…" Draco sighed, giving up on using his left hand on his right arm. There was no way he'd be able to do his right fingers correctly if he couldn't even do the arm, tendon damage would permanently maim his spellcasting. "I forgot Vega can pick up on my emotions when in proximity. I didn't even realize he'd been following us."
"Could you take the potion now and let them in?"
Draco raised his eyes to the ghost. "Can you take cruciatus relief and blood replenishers at the same time?"
"No," she whispered. "You can't because of the milkweed."
"I'll need some bandages, Jiffy."
The elf popped away only to return moments later.
Draco let the elf take care of his arm for him. Closing his eyes, he listened to the whimpers of the dragon in his grip. He brushed the scales, attempting to give some form of comfort.
The ghost stayed to watch. She reprimanded him the second he had fully closed his eyes, as if he would die merely from closing them.
"Are you not going to report back to your darling, golden boy?" he said to get her out of the room. Part of him regretted the snark - but he really had little else to his name. His current state, bloody and battered, was pathetic.
The ghost glared at him for a good moment. Before the eyes softened. "It's not just claustrophobia, is it? It's haphephobia. The turmeric paste is being mostly countered by the fire ant abdomens; the milkweed is interacting with the frog intestines. You're nullifying your ability to fear along with some nerves - modifying your personality in the process."
He opened his eyes to look at her. So, there was a word for it after all. It didn't change much.
"You're scared of being touched." The ghost proclaimed as if she'd solved the final answer to a test question.
Part of him wanted to glare, it wasn't just fear. Fear couldn't cause pain. It couldn't cause the burning sensation he felt at the slightest graze of Pansy's hand against his palm when she tried to reassure him. It couldn't cause the heart wrenching vomit that came from a firm handshake for a business transaction. If it was just fear - how pathetic was he?
The dragon let out the anguish whimper he felt.
His shields had dropped somewhere in being patched up by the elf.
He looked at Vega and felt pity for it. He'd forced himself upon it; forced it to feel the burden of his anxieties to save himself. He was no different than the monsters from his past. The dragon was going to pay for his crimes, just as he'd been placed before the Dark Lord to pay for his father's.
He needed to focus on Vega. He couldn't let the creature suffer for his problem. He made eye contact with Jiffy.
The creature moved closer.
Draco grabbed the wrinkled face with his empty hand and pulled the head closer so that the ghost could not overhear. "Take Vega away. And promise me - do not hand Vega over, regardless of the threat. I can't lose anything else due to my own mistakes."
The look that flickered across the elf's face held both resistance and concern.
Before Draco could give an order. The dragon crooned something, the elf's expression changed as if understanding it.
"Jiffy requires a name."
Vega? No, that look. The elf was striking a deal with him for compliance. The elf wanted the name he'd never spoken allowed, nor written upon paper. The elf's hand was open before him. This was a bargain. The name, the name the elf had asked for so long ago in this very room.
Draco could never forget, rebinding the tiny body in cloth, the dying candle light, the runes drawn upon the ground around the casket and on it in his own blood. The feel of forcing Granger's cold stiff fingers to hold the child.
The elf asked back then. Speaking the name would have brought sorrow and anger, it had been imperative at the time he hadn't shown emotion. There was no reason now, not a sane one.
"Aquarius." The name came like a whisper from his lips, but it tore at his throat like talons clawing their way out. The name echoed in his ears as wind picked up in the atrium that should have no wind.
The ghost became alarmed, "What spell have you cast!"
The wind whipped even more about them, the tree's branches bending and creaking.
Jiffy used one of his nails to cut Draco's freshly healed palm. With the blood still on his fingertips, the elf took the dragon and apparated.
Immediately the ghost panicked and flew back towards the entrance. It knew nothing of elves and bargains.
With unsteady feet he rose. The branches of the willow whipped around him, and then they stopped. Not moving at all in a sway that should have continued. There were flowers. Red flowers on the willow. The silence was deafening. There, at the base of the tree - she was watching him.
And then she was gone, and the branches were swaying again. He stumbled away, until he realized he was just trying to save himself again.
His fist tightened into balls.
He'd regret it if he turned away from her. The wind whipped even harder as he walked to where she had been. His hand touched the tree.
He heard the silence once again. She wasn't where she'd been. Scanning, she was at the entrance to the study. Her hand motioned for him to follow.
In the next moment she was gone, and the branches of the willow touched his cheek and shoulder. Staggering, he walked towards the entrance of the study. He put his hand on the archway of the room to steady himself. The wind did not die down.
He took a deep breath and continue forward.
A loud clicking noise came from the door, then a whirring sound, and then the door opened.
Solstice was the first through the door before the wizards and witches could react. It landed on his shoulder and nipped at his face without its teeth tearing his flesh. Antares was next, bolting into the room. At the wind though, he bolted back out – jumping over Flitwick barely clearing the man.
Draco released the breath he had been holding. The angry retorts and snarls merged with the rushing of the wind. The excitement was beginning to catch up with him. He could almost hear Bella's whispers against his neck and her wand at his temple. No, his eyes focused. The wand was just Potter's.
The green eyes swept over his face and the blood.
"Where is it?" Potter demanded. The wand poked his temple. "Where is the beast?"
As if Draco would tell if he knew. "He is safely away and cannot cause anyone harm."
Potter's grip upon his wand tightened. "That creature is dangerous, and I'll have it locked up."
"Harry!" The ghost screamed, causing the man to turn. "You'll do no such thing. It's just a child."
"Hermione, it almost killed me!" The wand was no longer pointing at him, but the man used it in his exclamation. "Look at him. Those scars." The eyes drifted to his arm, "He's still bleeding." The man took a step back then.
Severus stepped forward. The black eyes took in his state quickly and then he reached out.
"Do not touch me."
A flicker of anger flashed over the man's face, and then it was gone. The features stilled as if the man were before the Dark Lord giving a report.
Draco preferred to see the emotion. He needed to know how to assess those around him - and what they were thinking. Draco took a step back as the solemn gaze swept over his injuries.
"You were able to heal your neck and arms," his eyes stared at the patch where the dark mark was once on his skin. But the gaze then fell to the bandage on his right hand. It was red, no longer white. "What is your plan for your hand, are you expecting us to heal you?" The tone. There was anger, and sarcasm laced with malice.
Regardless of how it pained him, he expected it. After all, the elf's rudeness, along with his own actions of pointing a wand in the man's chest had caused it. He was on his own. He was always on his own. But that was life. He squared his shoulders. "Of course not." He could, at best, expect others to do nothing; worst – harm him.
"Stop being such a bloody, arrogant bast-" Potter snarled, but he was cut off by Severus.
The man's gaze had gone to the willow. "You've lost a lot of blood. How many replenishers have you taken?"
How many, well he hadn't been keeping close count.
Before he could reply the ghost spoke. "Five. I saw three bottles when I arrived, and the elf got him two more."
"Were they all blood replenishers?"
A hidden question. Had he taken the unknown? If only he had, this entire event could have been prevented with an even head.
"Yes."
"Answer me honestly."
Draco glared, "I am."
He raised a brow in disbelief but didn't ask again. "You should be fine in taking several more. I'd like to get the hand fixed first though." He took a step forward and reached again for Draco's hand and Draco took a step back, this time hitting the wall of the study where it opened into the yard.
The touch of the wall sent his nerves on end. He was trapped. "Do not touch me," the commanding tone was lost, and he could only hope that the panicked noise of desperation was swept up in the wind.
The black eyes narrowed as if encountering a riddle. A moment later the dark eyes stared into his.
Draco could feel the edges of his mind fray - just like when he'd been before the Dark Lord. His heart went into his throat for a moment, and he forced himself to shove his important memories into the dungeons of his mind – where not even the Dark Lord had ever gone – and then the pressure was gone.
Severus straightened, leaning away from him.
Draco remembered to take a breath.
"Remove the bandage and hold out your hand."
He could do that. He watched the man examine him for a moment. Severus casted a spell with a complicated weave and words that did not sound like Latin, but more Arabic. Draco could feel the pain elevate for a moment and then it was gone. A quick glance showed the wounds were just slim lines. It was a lot better than anything he knew how to cast.
Draco let his eyes leave the man's hands and was surprised to see the black eyes watching his face. The man extended two bottles. One looked to be a blood replenisher, the other one's color was not familiar.
"Blood replenisher and a variation of calming drop - in particular it should heighten the body's ability to heal."
He drank the blood replenisher first, and then sniffing the other - noting that it did smell like a calming drop - drank it.
His vision blurred.
It had been a sedative.
His lips tried to form the words of a curse, but his entire head felt numb. The man had moved, and he could feel the touch on his arm and on his shoulder. Pain, it was like millions of splinters. He threw up before the world went dark.
