Written by: Blissful Darkness
Rated: R
Disclaimer: If I were being paid for writing this story… then I'd still be poor. Lol. No, I am not paid for this like JKR, and I do not own anything she owns. You all know that.
Author's note: Fourth installment! And a long one too! Even though I lost six reviews. Come on you guys! I thrive on your reviews! Also, there will be a lot of… things happening in this chapter. It should prove to be interesting, and I can't wait to read your reviews! Lol. Enjoy! Draco and Harry will be replying to some of the reviews and thanking all others whose review's they did not answer.
Harry- To Dragon Firefairy: Actually no, I can't hear anything that is said to me. I'm kind of soulless at the moment. Heh. I don't know… I might wake up. Depends on how much all of you review. Though I have a feeling I'll wake up. And why would you want to get inside my head? I imagine it would be slimy and squishy.
Draco- blinks Potter? Be quiet. Okay, to dairygirl: Dear Merlin, are you all right? What are you talking about? Me and Harry? Me and Potter? gags And when have I ever been peaceful?
Harry- You know you want me Malfoy. And on to redfox13: Poor Dray (hmmm I like that name, so easy to moan)? What about me? I'm the one who's without a soul. I can't even have wet dreams!
Draco- POTTER! That's…. disgusting! hides blush Okay to Without Permission: You weirdo. No, seriously. What is with you people and wanting Potter and me to be together? It's…. impossible. Abolish those thoughts now!
Harry- He blushed! Didn't you see it! He wants me! XD Keep thinking SLASH ladies, I'm loving it! To Alora: See, Malfoy? She says Harry and Draco forever! Isn't that sweet.
Draco- eye twitch Potter, thank the reviewers before I kill you in your sleep.
Harry- 0.o; Okay… thanking. Dominatrix. snickersAnd thanks to the following reviewers who reviewed! Jo Raven, Mistress Vamp, angels-slayer-lol, Raining Fire, and Anux.
"Blah" –speaking
Blah –thinking also could mean emphasized word
"Blah" –parseltongue
Blah blah blah blah blah. – flashback/dream/memory
Gather round kiddies. It's story time!
A mark of another kind
Screams. Who was screaming? He couldn't move. He reached forward, but he did not see his own hand. A slimy, scaled texture was lain upon his shoulders, the claws digging into his chest. A great chill passed over him as he realized it was he who was screaming. He thrashed, trying to free himself from the sickening hold. The grip only tightened. He was losing focus. No. This couldn't be happening.
The sneering face of Lucius Malfoy suddenly loomed into his vision.
"KILL HIM!" the blonde screamed as more and more appeared. But another voice joined in the fray.
"Potter!" That voice. A voice he had least expected.
Lucius suddenly disappeared. Harry looked towards the younger blonde. The dementors vanished as Draco cast his patronus. The blonde ran over to him, falling to his knees.
"Malfoy," Harry whispered, a shudder wracking his body.
"Potter… everything will be alright. I promise. We'll get you to St. Mungo's. They'll help you," Draco promised, his words running together so that Harry could barely understand him.
Harry shook his head, a feeble smile on his lips. "Draco? Take me home."
It was not until two weeks later that Draco returned to the hospital. He had avoided the headmaster's letters like the plague. Of course, he had hardly planned on going back after his emotional breakdown. He continued his life as if nothing had happened. He returned to his night shift, barely noticing his customers. Had he paid more attention, he would have realized that he was being watched.
Draco stood behind the bar, ignoring the barmaid who teased the crowd by dancing on top of the bar. He sighed as he heard a couple take a seat before him. He didn't even look up as he greeted them in his usual drawl.
"What can I get you?" he asked, drying a shot glass with a hand towel.
"How about some answers… Drakin," a female voice hissed.
Draco groaned in aggravation. "Look, I'm sorry Lady, but it was just one night. We were not in a bloody…" he trailed off as he realized exactly to whom he was speaking too.
The woman who sat before him had flipped out, chin length black hair and brown eyes rimmed in black eyeliner. Her prominent bosom was in danger of spilling out of her black corset style shirt. Her nose was small and slightly squashed, her only imperfection. The man beside her had midnight blue hair and aquamarine eyes, also rimmed in black eyeliner. His torso was clothed in a black muscle shirt that served as a second skin, much like Draco's shirt. The couple wore the same style in pants. Baggy and black.
Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Not good.
"Answers to what? Do I know you?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
Blaise lunged forward and grasped Draco's forearm. The concealment charm immediately faded as Blaise reversed the spell to reveal the black inking on Draco's skin.
"Nifty tattoo you've got there, Drakin. Care to explain who gave it to you?" Blaise asked, his gaze narrowing.
Draco frowned and looked up at the barmaid. "Gina, cover for me," he demanded before leading the two former Slytherins into the backroom.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he immediately yelled upon closing the door.
Pansy shook her head in dismay. "Draco, we've come to help you," the woman soothed, reaching out to take Draco's hand.
"Keep your bloody hands away from me. You two betrayed me when I needed you most. Why the hell should I need your help?" he growled, taking a step back.
Blaise frowned, sending a glance towards Pansy. "Draco, we couldn't have helped you. We were surrounded by death eaters. There was no way we could have helped you. Harry escaped from us before we could get you out of there," the blue-haired boy said, trying to get Draco to understand.
"Oh and telling the Dark Lord that I had a bloody infatuation with Potter helped? You death eaters can't do anything right! Can you?" Draco yelled, his blood boiling.
"Okay, one: we were trying to stall for time," Pansy argued.
"And two: we're members of the Order. So don't start that shit with us," Blaise replied, spitting on the ground.
The blonde's hands clenched and unclenched as he refused the impulse to murder the two before him. He glared at the ground, thoughts racing through his mind. Finally, Draco decided on a response that would satisfy him.
"Clean your fucking spit off of the floor with your bloody tongue and get out," he growled before returning to the bar.
The two exchanged glances. When Draco gives an order, you follow that order. If you refuse… then you are likely to be dismembered of a portion of your body. Blaise would not risk any part of his body. With a sigh, Blaise dropped to his knees, staring disdainfully at his own saliva.
In a moment's time Blaise was found chugging alcohol to clean his tongue.
Medi-witch Frida Chistos was a woman who had just gotten her nursing license. She had, without question, agreed to be one of the few witches and wizards who would take care of the Boy Who Lived. She was in charge of taking care of the man's body's necessities ranging from food to bathing. She had never once looked at the constant read out of nonexistent activity in Harry's mind. But today… she was curious.
Frida had been wiping a cloth over her patient's scarred forehead when the digital read out's printer began to hum with life. As far as she had known, this had never happened before. She read over the sheet, her eyes widening in surprise with each word she read. A part of Harry's brain had activated a section that had died the day the man lost his soul. She ran to gather the other medi-witches, jabbering in a frenzy about souls.
A man without a soul did not have an imagination, or good memories. They had only horrible memories.
Within his mind, Harry used his returning imagination to give the memory of the dementors a delightful, alternate ending.
Draco knocked politely on the Headmaster's door. He had received a letter via owl prior, requesting his presence for dinner in the Great Hall. The students had left the day before, going to their homes for a much needed summer vacation from their nutty professors.
The only reason he had agreed to come was because he needed to see his godfather, Severus Snape. The only man that ever truly cared for the young Malfoy was the retired spy, himself. Of course, Snape would never admit to such emotions.
An "enter" sounded from within, allowing Draco entrance into Dumbledore's office. The office was the same as the last time he had seen it eight years ago, but there were new trinkets and whirring instruments that had been added to the collection. Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, a great twinkle in his eyes that immediately put Draco on is guard.
"Mr. Malfoy! It's wonderful to see you!" the older man exclaimed jubilantly.
Draco nodded his head in greeting, still standing by the door. Dumbledore noticed this and pointed his wand towards Draco, his wrist rolling quickly. A cushy chair suddenly appeared behind Draco and sped forward, causing Draco to collapse awkwardly in the cushions. The chair came to a sudden halt before the desk, causing Draco to almost fall out. Dumbledore only smiled as Draco righted himself within the chair.
"Would you like to have tea and biscuits? Maybe a lemon drop?" the senile Headmaster asked as he poured himself a cup of tea.
Draco declined the offer, knowing, with a touch of irritation, that anything edible that was offered was laced with calming potion. Frustration grew as he realized that the headmaster was delaying the reason as to why he was called to Hogwarts.
"Headmaster, what is it that you wished to tell me?" Draco finally asked, a scowl darkening his lips.
"Mr. Malfoy, where did you get your robes. They are simply fabulous!" the older man suddenly exclaimed, causing Draco to blanch and blink silently. Albus Dumbledore had sounded like the female populous with that single, random exclamation. He shook his head as if snapping out of a trance.
"Albus!" he snarled, annoyed with the headmaster.
The bearded man chuckled, the twinkle in his eyes more pronounced. "Draco, my boy, Harry's condition is finally improving. His imagination has been at work, which is impossible if you do not have a soul. Upon further inspection, we discovered a resurrected fragment of Harry's soul, and it is growing," Albus explained with barely contained excitement.
The man stood from behind his desk, a knowing smile making his aging face seem almost youthful.
Draco paled at the headmaster's words. How was this possible? No one had ever survived a dementor's kiss. Though he should be happy for his former rival, an escalating dread was building within him. Draco shook his head, the color returning to his skin. He would have to see Harry for himself.
"Come, Draco. I believe the staff is waiting for us," Albus said, before leading the silent blonde towards the Great Hall. "And by the way, I ask you to consider moving your mother and yourself into Hogwarts. You will be safe here from the public eye, and we have rooms to spare," the older man added as a n afterthought, realizing that he had accidentally forgotten to take off his bunny slippers before leaving the room.
Sybil Trelawney was frantically roaming her hands over her crystal ball, her magnified eyes peering owlishly at the fog filled orb.
"I see myself choking on my midnight tea. My inner eye tells me I mustn't drink my tea tonight," she cooed in her 'mystical' voice.
The woman suddenly froze, her eyes rolling backwards until only the whites of her eyes showed. When she spoke her voice had deepened into an upper tenor.
"HE WHO WILL SURVIVE THE ULTIMATE CURSE WILL SUFFER THE ULTIMATE CONSEQUENCE. ONLY THE SAVIOR CAN HELP HE WHO IS CURSED!"
The seer blinked rapidly before looking at the time. Midnight. "Oh dear, I haven't drank my tea yet!"
Draco stood at the edge of Harry's bed. He examined the man in the coma-like state. Yes, Draco could tell that Harry's soul was slowly returning. How? There was a depth to those pools of emerald, a trait that only those with souls could possess.
"Why now? Why couldn't you wake up before I came?" he asked, gripping the edge of the mattress.
Instead of silence, a piercing yell of agony pierced the room, causing Draco to immediately cover his ears. This went on with Harry arching off of the bed, thrashing and clawing at figments of his mind. Where were the medi-witches? Why weren't they coming? Harry's scar had split open with the intensity of his memories. This was Draco's deciding factor.
He climbed onto the bed and took Harry into his arms, holding him close. The man continued to convulse, but his vocals had quieted. Soon, Harry was only a shivering body in Draco's arms, sobbed "no's" repeated one after the other. Draco hushed the slightly smaller man, cradling Harry to calm him. In return, the raven-haired man clung to Draco desperately. Draco's mother had done the same for Draco after Lucius beat. This was the only way that Draco knew to comfort another. He rolled up his sleeves, becoming too warm with Harry's body heat mingling with his own. However, this caused another reaction from the tortured man.
Harry's gaze suddenly focused on the dark mark, and in the next second Harry's hand gripped Draco's forearm. Draco's eyes widened as… pleasure…. coursed through his veins and flowed towards his nether regions. His skin felt as if it were burning. Somehow loosening Harry's iron-like grip, he jumped out of the bed and sat in a corner, his eyes wild with fright and confusion. He looked to his dark mark, only to find a mark of a different kind.
A portion of his skin where the mark had once lain was now covered in gleaming, black scales. Within that patch were emerald scales in the shape of a dragon, its wings seeming to shift in the dim light. The mark would have been beautiful, had a nearly soulless man who was considered the most powerful being in existence not caused it.
Standing, Draco fled, looking back once at the man whose gaze was once more fixed on the ceiling. Draco ran home, never once thinking of apparating. His mind simply would not process anything but those haunting emerald eyes.
Ending A/N: Well, did you like it? Hate it? Please review! Reviews give me creative juices that fuel this story!