DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Seventeen - Pensieve Thoughts
Harry slammed into the floor and groaned, rolling over and pushing himself slowly to his hands and knees. Blinking, he rose to his feet and looked around the shadowed room, freezing when his eyes landed on the figure sitting across from him. For one minute, he thought he was looking at Lucius Malfoy.
It took him a moment of rationalizing and a narrowed eyed glance at the blond to notice his jaw was just a little squarer, his eyes a deeper shade of blue. Heaving a relieved sigh, he flopped into the chair before the wizard and leaned forward, eyes scanning the documents scattered upon the black wood.
The sound of someone approaching had him turning in the chair, eyes widening as a raven-haired witch breezed through the library doors. Scarlet skirts swirled around her legs as she stalked forward, a sheaf of papers held tightly in her right hand. With a peeved huff, she slapped the stack of parchment down in front of the blond wizard and dropped directly into the seat Harry was occupying. "Reggie, you said you'd take care of this."
Peeling himself out of the chair, Harry stood and shook his robes out, grimacing at the ache growing in his stomach. Frowning down at the witch, he extended a hand and ghosted his fingers over her cheek.
"I've spoken with my father, he said the subject was closed." The blond wizard murmured, setting the quill he held atop the papers the witch had scattered. "There's nothing that I can do, Rav."
Blue eyes burning, the witch slid forward in her chair and placed her hands on the edge of the desk. "It's a legally sanctioned massacre. You and I both know it." Raveana whispered, casting a quick look over her shoulder at the doors she'd left open. She slid one of her hands forward and caught one of his, stilling the quill he was rolling back and forth. "Please Reggie, try again."
Reginald Malfoy nodded slowly, turning the hand she held over and interlacing their fingers. "Of course, my sweet." Thus said, he raised her hand to his lips and placed a quick kiss upon the back.
The graceful movement drew Harry's eyes to their joined hands. Identical rings encircled the third finger on their left hands, the metal grating together as the pair shifted closer. Upon the surface of the gold, a sleek dragon was sprawled, leaving no doubt in Harry's mind that it was the same ring Raveana still wore upon her hand. As they rose and leaned over the desk, the thought ended, slamming him unceremoniously into a different memory.
Lying upon a floor, he shifted and found himself staring at a pair of well-made boots. Groaning, he stood and swiped at his torn Quidditch uniform, his eyes widening as he stared at a picture that he had seen before. Jerking around in confusion, he glanced at Reginald, noting the reddened eyes and the paler than normal face.
"Make sure they're straight." The blond snapped, shifting back and forth as he glared at the two men installing new doors. In what could of been a fit of fury, he threw something into the dark room, the faint clink as it landed resounding in the silence. Beyond the men, Raveana's library of dragons was heavily shadowed, its uneven stacks of books sitting untouched. As soon as the doors were settled upon their hinges, the men fled the hall, leaving the blond standing silently before the dark wood.
Reaching out, Reginald ran his fingers over the wood in a soft caress of finality. Stepping back, he drew his wand and began to whisper a spell. With a last flick, the doors glowed dark green, sealing themselves closed until the blond's murmured conditions were met. "It's done." He whispered to himself before turning and walking through Harry.
The thought ended there, dumping Harry into another before he could break free of the pensieve's grasp. Picking himself up off the floor again, he peered around the darkened room before moving toward the three figures standing huddled together in front of an altar.
Gowned completely in white, Raveana stared up into Reginald's glowing blue eyes, their hands joined between them. The blond wore expensive dress robes of midnight black, his thumb absently caressing the underside of the witch's wrist. Standing beside the pair, the priest finished and snapped the bible he held closed, giving a brief nod to the wizard before sweeping from the room.
"You're mine forever, love." Reginald murmured playfully, bending down and placing a slow kiss upon the lips offered up to him. The couple lingered together, whispering softly to each other as they cuddled.
"You wouldn't have it any other way." Raveana returned, raising her hand and watching the ring upon her finger shimmer under the candlelight.
Before she could lower her hand, the blond caught it and gave her an apologetic smile. "No one can ever know we did this, Rav. It was against my parents wishes, and most of the councils as well." Pulling her close, he kissed her lightly on the forehead before sliding the gold ring off her fourth finger and onto her third. Stepping back, he squeezed her hands before pushing her gently away from him. "Wait for me in the carriage."
Harry glanced back and forth between the pair, wondering which he should follow. As the door thudded shut behind the raven-haired witch, the blond drew his wand and turned slowly in the direction the priest had gone. Running his wand between his fingers, he heaved a short sigh and glided after the short man, Harry trailing behind him like a ghost.
The priest looked up as Reginald slid into the room and closed the door. Offering the older wizard an innocent smile, the blond pointed his wand at him and hissed 'obliviate', the spell connecting with deadly accuracy. Pale eyes shimmering sadly, Reginald slipped from the room, leaving the priest sitting at his desk in the middle of the night with no idea or memory of what he was doing there.
Harry was thrust from the memory and into another, given no chance to go over the memories he'd just witnessed or partaken in. Shaking his head to clear it, he peered at Reginald who stood solemnly next to him, his pale eyes focused upon the raven-haired witch standing upon the steps of Shirestra. In her hands, Raveana held the Dragon's Maw, a small golden dragon bouncing next to her. In front of them, a wizard holding a bow paced, held back by the iron gates and the wards wrapped around the witch's land.
"How did it come to this?" Reginald whispered, tipping his head back and staring at the slowly darkening sky. A wizard came trotting toward them, panting out a message before gesturing over his shoulder. Nodding, the blond cast another longing look at the witch. He ducked his head as he swept past the puffing wizard, the dragon hunter carrying the bow hot on his heels.
Following the trio, Harry placed a hand over his gut to try and calm himself. His eyes rested on the glowing bow the second wizard held, a dawning realization growing in his mind as he recalled how Raveana had been killed. Face paling, he reached out to grab Reginald, to yell at him to stop this, but his hand passed through the blond.
"Let's do this." Reginald snapped, drawing his wand and leveling it at the magical wall glinting in front of the group. A dozen wands were lifted and a spell hollered, magic coursing through the air as it connected with Raveana's last line of defense.
Alarms shrieked as the wards fell, the mercenaries lunging through the lingering magic as they raced into the forest. Reginald and Harry followed silently, the blond's strides shortening the closer they got to the massive manor. They prowled from the concealment of the trees, halting as Raveana spun to face them. "You're a fool, Lady Raveana, to die for a bunch of beasts that can't even understand you."
Drawing her wand, Raveana lifted her chin. "But I was a happy fool, Reginald."
Hissing softly, the blond hissed a spell, the muscles in his arms tensing as the dangerous charm hurtled toward the raven-haired witch. She deflected the magic with ease, the crack of the dissipating charm hiding his relieved sigh. "Those damn beasts have made me what I am. Their blood and scales alone are worth thousands of galleons." A strong wind whipped around them, tugging the cloaks and hair of the witch and wizards gathering upon the lawn.
"Someday you'll wish you had left the Mage Dragons alone, Reginald." Raveana called, the silver cloth of her skirts billowing around her legs. It began to rain suddenly, the first drops pattering against the grass quietly. The raven-haired witch spun quickly, her entire body jerking as an arrow struck her.
Harry rushed to her side, knowing there was nothing he could do. His hands passed through the arrow's shaft as he cupped the wound, tears running down his face as the blood continued to flow through his fingers.
"You should have let me have them, Raveana." Reginald's whisper reached Harry, the lack of emotions in the words horrifying him. How could you marry someone and not love them? How could you stand there and watch while they died?
Raveana collapsed to her knees, Harry falling with her as she lifted her emerald eyes to the sky. The blond appeared over them suddenly, staring dispassionately down at the witch who wore his wedding ring. Blinking through the tears coursing down his face and the rain gliding through his body, Harry could have easily killed the blond wizard. He dropped his gaze back to the face of Raveana, sniffling as her eyes began to dim.
"Sweet Raveana." Reginald whispered as he dropped to his knees next to the witch's body, the words were nothing more than an exhalation heard only by Harry and the wizard who'd muttered them. The blond's fingers delved into the witch's pocket, removing the flute that she'd hidden there moments ago. He ran the tips of his fingers over her pale cheek, pushing back the tangled strands of wet hair the wind had tossed carelessly about. "You should have listened to me, Potter."
"Someday you'll regret the death of every dragon you ever murdered, Malfoy." Raveana whispered with her last breath.
Harry cried out loudly, flopping backwards as the rain came driving down angrily. He glared at the wizard kneeling across from him, hands fisting in anger. "How could you do it?" He hollered, lunging across Raveana and grabbing wildly for Reginald. His hands passed through the blond, leaving him lying in the mud behind the wizard. Pounding his fists against the ground, he roared in pain.
The sudden crooning that filled the night drew him out of his temper tantrum, had him lifting his head and staring at the sleek forms sliding over the rough water. Beside him, Reginald rose and removed his cloak, draping it over the limp body of the raven-haired witch. In a silver wave, the memory faded away, quickly replaced by another.
Reginald sat alone in a dark room, staring blindly out the window at the crescent moon hanging in the sky. In his fingers, he rolled his golden wedding band, the warm metal reminding him of the witch lying cold within her grave. Groaning, he picked up the glass of scotch sitting next to him and took a long sip, ignoring the greasy strands of hair that fell into his eyes.
Harry sat down across from him, confusion warring with hate and longing as he looked at the bottle sitting at the wizard's elbow. He took the blond's appearance in slowly, the dirty hair, the grungy black robes, and the reddened eyes. Reginald Malfoy didn't look like a man who was pleased with himself. In fact, he looked down right drunk. But this didn't seem to be a victory party to Harry, it was more like a one person wake.
The door on the opposite side of the room opened suddenly, the brilliant glow of a wand brightening the shadowed room. "Reginald, whatever are you doing sitting in a dark room alone?" Asked the older blonde witch standing in the doorway. She shook her head as she took him in, lowering her wand as she sighed. "I'm very proud of you, my son. You've pleased your father greatly."
Harry gagged at the witch's comment, wondering how she could be happy over the death of another. He shook his head and slumped deeper into the chair he sat in, narrowing his emerald eyes on Reginald.
"It's good that I've made daddy proud." Reginald drawled, saluting the witch with his glass. His fist closed around the ring he held, knuckles whitening. Lifting his glass, he drained it in one long pull before placing the empty cup back on the table. "I'd like to be left alone, Mother."
Sighing again, the witch shook her head and began to leave the room. "Please come down to dinner, you can't sit up here alone forever." She said over her shoulder, closing the door lightly.
Reginald slumped deeper into his chair and closed his eyes. "I already regret it," he murmured, listening to the sound of the witch's retreating footsteps. Holding his hand up before him, he slid the golden ring onto his fourth finger and rose, scooping up the cloak lying on the floor. "I have a library to seal."
Yet again Harry found himself pushed free of the thought, his mind and metaphysical body slamming into another memory without warning. And once again he found himself standing in a room he recognized. Well, not quite a room.
The cave was lit by the candles on the walls, the little flames flicking brightly in their holders. Reginald was kneeling before the silver and glass coffin, one of his hands clasped around the raven-haired witch's wrist. He wore a sad smile as he shifted the ring upon her hand, moving it from her middle finger to the one beside it. "Where it should have been," he said softly. The blond stood carefully, brushing dirt from his slacks as he peered down at the witch who had loved him.
Harry walked over to stand next to Reginald, observing the older wizard's graceful movements as he closed the lid of the glass coffin. Sliding pale fingers over the lid in a last caress, he drew his wand and whispered something in Latin. The raven-haired witch's tomb was enclosed in a bubble of gold for a brief second, the glow fading abruptly as the candles died one by one.
"Good bye, my Rav." The simple words were the last thing Harry heard before he was thrown out of the pensieve and onto the sandy floor of the cave. Picking himself up, he stared at the ebony basin for a moment, his head filled with memories that weren't his.
"Did he or didn't he love her?" He asked, the question ricocheting through the underground lair. Still puzzled over the contents of the pensieve, he stalked back up the long tunnel, chewing his bottom lip. He reached the main cave and halted next to the glass coffin, staring down at the witch who lay within. The sudden shrieking of his name had him arching an eyebrow and stalking toward the pale sky visible at the mouth of the cave, hands tightening into fists as he recognized Draco's voice.
"I'm coming." He mumbled as he stepped out onto the small ledge and looked upwards, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. Gulls screamed out over the water, the sound almost obliterating the blond wizard's loud screams.
XxXxX
Draco raced down toward the cliffs, his heart pumping as he stumbled toward the spot where Harry had gone over. He ignored the sudden appearance of the white and gold dragon, his eyes wanting only the familiar sight of ruffled black hair. The waving grass seemed to grab at his legs, slowing his progress as he fought its hold.
Skidding to a stop a few short feet away from the edge of the cliff, he dropped to his knees and scuttled forward, panic growing as he peered down into the churning water crashing against the base of the cliff. "Harry! Harry! Harry!" He hollered, as if by merely speaking the raven-haired wizard's name he could make him appear.
The sudden appearance of the wizard in question, had him sinking completely to his chest and burying his burning face in his folded arms. Thanking Merlin for Harry's safety, he slid forward a bit more and peered down into the upturned face. "What the hell did you think you were doing? What was going on inside that pea-sized brain of yours that would make stepping off a cliff look like a good thing?! What were you thinking?" He screamed, fingers flexing with the urge to strangle the other wizard.
"Calm down, Draco." Harry called patiently, shuffling back a step so he could better see the blond. Blinking against the light, he rubbed his hands together and winced, remembering the injuries he'd gotten when he landed on the ledge. "There's a cave here, it's got some very interesting th-"
"You stepped off a cliff for some interesting things? I can't believe I ran down here because I thought you were dead!" Draco snapped, shaking a finger for emphasis as he glared at the Gryffindor. "You made me run for nothing!"
"Sorry?" Harry offered, taking another small step back. The shift in weight proved fatal as the eroded edge of the ledge crumbled beneath him, sending him plummeting toward the roaring waves and pointed rocks.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review! I know there wasn't a lot of Harry and Draco in this chapter but some things had to be explained and I apologize. Happy St.Patrick's Day!
kasmo – Harry didn't really fall that far, maybe only six or seven feet.
Shinigami – The Quibbler article is from the present, sorry for the confusion. As for the dragon hunt, it might be highly controversial but if the Mages accidentally go after the livestock