Chapter 10: Deditio

When Harry woke, it was cold. He was surprised that he hadn't noticed before, but he had probably been distracted by the pain. It had morphed into a dull throb in his limbs and in his forehead. He halfway wondered if this was an aftereffect of the healing potions. He was trembling. When he began moving, he bumped into another body, and the events of the day before came rushing back to him. He jerkily sat up and almost fell down again.

"Draco? Draco, are you alright?"

Harry shook the other boy's shoulders when he didn't stir. Draco flinched and curled up even further. "I'm sorry, Father…"

"Wake up, Draco, it's me…"

Harry looked around and was surprised to find a jug of water next to the cell door. Suddenly, the thirst was overwhelming and he almost collapsed.

He crawled towards the jug and took small, slow sips from it. Harry had learned not to give in to hunger and thirst too quickly while with the Dursleys. Eventually, he felt a bit better and his throat wasn't as rough any more. He filled the wooden bowl nearby with water and crawled back to Draco. His arms were weak, shaking under his own weight. He struggled not to spill too much. Harry ignored the stomach-turning sight of Draco's back and shook him again.

"Come on, Draco. You need to drink something. It's me…" Harry hesitated for a moment. "Tigris." The name sounded strange and wrong from his mouth, but it felt equally wrong to say Harry. Draco slowly turned towards him, cramping up when he felt his wounds again. He blinked in Harry's direction.

"Tigr…," he slurred, trying and failing to sit up.

"Sh, sh…" Harry lifted the bowl to his mouth. "Drink something."

Draco complied and his expression slowly cleared. Harry filled the bowl again until Draco had enough. Draco stared at him before closing his eyes and groaning.

"Wonderful. Two fools in the same boat."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. It sounded raspy and hoarse.

"To be honest, the room service has greatly improved." Was he actually cracking jokes with his former nemesis?

Draco tried to laugh and coughed instead. "I noticed." He turned his head to examine him. "You seem to be doing better. Better than me, to be honest."

"Yes." Harry wrapped his arms around himself. "Must be Mother's healing potions."

"Mother's?"

Harry didn't answer. He didn't really know what to say to that.

Draco's eyes wandered to the ceiling and he licked his dry lips. Then, he shivered. "It's damned cold in here."

"Yes." Harry noticed Draco's discarded robe. He pulled it closer and draped it over Draco. The other wrapped it tighter and scrutinized him with astonishment. "Aren't you cold?"

Harry shrugged.

"Oh, stop it," said Draco indignantly. He pushed himself into a sitting position, scooting into a corner, dragging Harry along. He didn't have much strength, but Harry wasn't resisting either. He flinched slightly when his raw back hit Draco's chest. Draco wrapped the robe around both of them.

"Now, that wasn't too hard, was it big brother?" He snorted.

Harry leaned his head back, thankful for the pleasant warmth radiating from the body behind him. The physical contact was oddly comforting. "Big brother? I guess that's not so bad."

"You really think so?"

Harry stayed silent. Draco slung an arm around him. Harry's grip tightened on the cloak's silky fabric. "Maybe."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I noticed…" Draco hesitated. "You have several old scars."

"I noticed you have none," countered Harry.

"Mother is a talented healer."

"That makes sense."

Draco bid his time in silence.

Finally, Harry sighed. "The Dursleys… the muggles I used to live with… occasionally decided to 'beat my deviancy out of me', as they used to call it. Especially my uncle Vernon. He preferred to use his belt."

Draco laughed without humor. "I always assumed they'd idolize you. The boy who lived, conqueror of you-know-who and all that. Our celebrity." He managed a passably good imitation of Snape.

Harry grimaced. "Well, they didn't. They abhorred wizards and anything to do with magic. It was unnatural to them. They tried whatever they could to keep me away from it. They even told me that my parents died in a car accident."

"Car accident?" Asked Draco, confused.

"It's a common accident for muggles."

"Oh. Whatever… sorry."

Harry shrugged. "I thought the same about you. That you were spoiled beyond anything, I mean."

"Well, you were right. I am spoiled."

"With the whip?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Draco flinched a little. "He isn't usually this… out of control. At least towards me. He punishes me when he considers it necessary, but not unless I deserve it. Besides that, I get everything I want."

"Anything you can buy," replied Harry dryly. Draco didn't answer him.

"Why now?" Asked Harry eventually.

Draco tensed up with unease. "I followed him yesterday. After I saw what he did, I tried talking to uncle Severus."

"Snape?!" shouted Harry incredulously.

"He's our godfather," said Draco defensively. "He can be nice if he wants to… in his own way. I admit he isn't always easy to be around. But he has helped me before."

"Hard to imagine," muttered Harry. "Also, why didn't he help you?"

"I couldn't really tell him anything before Father arrived. I think he was suspicious, though. I fear Father did something to him…"

"Do you think he'd hurt him?" Asked Harry with unease.

Draco stiffened. "I don't know. Severus is a great Occlumens, so it's difficult to use memory spells on him. But there are other ways. I don't know the dark arts as well as Father." Draco shuddered. This came as a surprise to Harry.

"You don't like the dark arts?"

"No. I mean, I do. It's just that I've never been particularly good with them. To Father's constant disappointment. Then again, I've always been sort of a disappointment to him." His last words were spoken with flagrant bitterness. Harry encouragingly patted Draco's arm.

"I'm sure he doesn't mean it."

"Oh, but he does. I don't need pitiful lies, Tigris. Especially not from you."

Harry tensed. Draco sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Why did you even try helping me? You have hated me since the first time we met."

Draco rested his chin onto Harry's shoulder. "I don't hate you. Not any more at least. Actually, I think I'm slowly starting to like you. You're my brother after all. I don't want to lose you." He broke off sheepishly.

Harry held his breath for a moment, nonplussed. "Thanks," he said then.

"What for?"

"Risking your life for me."

"Don't think too much of it, brother," replied Draco cynically. "Father may be crazy enough to risk one son and heir, but certainly not both. Not after how much he risked to preserve the Malfoy name."

"Your health, then."

Draco laughed dryly. "Stop trying to indebt yourself to me, Tigris. As tempted as I am to take you for your word, I'm not as selfless as you are making me out to be."

"Say what you want," answered Harry. "Brother."

Harry felt Draco smile behind him. "I wish you'd consider it," he said suddenly.

"What?" Asked Harry, confused.

"Submitting," answered Draco quietly. "'The tree that does not bow to the storm, breaks,' they say."

"He isn't quite so inevitable as a storm," countered Harry angrily.

"But he is," said Draco calmly. "For us, at least."

The bang of the door opening ripped Harry from his sleep. Behind him, Draco tensed.

"How cute," said Lucius cuttingly. "If I didn't know you were related, I'd take you for a couple."

Harry grimaced and tried wrestling himself free from the robes that were wrapped around him.

Lucius waved with his whip. "Come here, Draco."

Draco tried to move past Harry, but he stopped him.

"Leave him be. This is just about me, isn't it?"

"Shut up, Tigris," hissed Draco. "Let me through."

Lucius watched them in amusement. "What an interesting development. What am I supposed to call this? Siblings' love? Rampant idiocy? Now, stop it, children, and do as I say." His smile vanished. "Or you will regret it. Both of you."

Harry finally let Draco push him to the side. His brother sank to his knees in front of Lucius. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Good. Come here, Tigris."

Harry watched as Draco frowned. He met Lucius' eyes with resistance.

"No."

"Come here or your brother will get punished," said Lucius calmly.

Harry stared at him. "What? But…"

The whip hit Draco and he screamed.

"Stop!" Harry found himself next to Draco. "I'm sorry."

"Much better. Now think about what I want to hear from you. Think about it well."

"Don't do it," whispered Draco next to him. "Not for me. He'd do it anyway."

Harry stared at Lucius' boots and felt himself shiver. He shook his head.

The whip hit his brother and Harry recoiled. He noticed how Draco bit his lips to suppress his screams. A thin sliver of blood ran down his chin. The whip hit Draco again and he flinched. Harry suddenly felt empty and worthless. There was nothing heroic about resistance if others had to pay for it, was there? His principles, his freedom - what was their value at this point?

'The Dursleys were right. I'm nothing. Nothing at all.' He stared at the stone floor. He was completely exhausted, drained. In the end, he was but a human. He couldn't fight forever.

"I'm sorry, Father," he whispered tonelessly. His mind was blank, like an endless, dark ocean, sweeping him away. He stopped fighting against it.

"Repeat that," sounded Lucius' voice from above.

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Father, for my behavior. It was stupid and impudent of me to provoke you. It won't happen again."

"Will you obey the rules I set down?"

"Yes, Father."

"Then say it."

"I will address you as Father or Sir," he said with a monotonous voice. A part of him was surprised that he still remembered. "I will follow your orders. I won't criticize you in public. I will respect older and more influential people…" He gagged. "...even the Dark Lord. I will take care not to discredit the reputation of the house Malfoy."

"Very well." His father sounded exceptionally satisfied. Tigris felt a wave of hatred like he'd never felt before, not even towards Voldemort. It was a cold, boundless hatred. He was sure that this feeling would never end. It filled him entirely.

"Ten blows for your earlier disobedience."

"Yes, Father."

Tigris stared at the floor while counting with a cold, emotionless voice. He knew he had lost something this day, but he couldn't bring himself to grieve for it.

"You're dismissed," his father said finally.

"Thank you, Father." '... you are so graceful,' he sarcastically added in his mind. He staggered to his feet and dragged Draco up with him.

They stumbled up the stairs, leaning on each other. Somehow, they made it to his room. Tigris thought it was a miracle they did. There, they collapsed. Their mother found them later. She managed to split the bed in two and administer the most important healing potions before she ran from the room in a hysterical fit. Tigris heard her furious screams as if they were far away. He found them strangely bemusing, before sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Lucius heard Narcissa raging in front of his door, surmising that she had found those two. Oh, the worries and hardships of a loving mother, he thought dryly.

He filled a glass with red wine and leaned back in his armchair. He knew she'd calm down sooner or later. She always did. This was one of Narcissa's most wonderful traits. She always was the last one to return to her senses, acting like the perfect wife she was supposed to be. Lucius lifted his glass in the direction of the door in a mocking salute. A loving wife and two wonderful sons. What more could he wish for? He wanted to have a sip, but suddenly set the glass down instead. He had drunk a glass of wine in the evening as long as he could remember, but suddenly the thought disgusted him. He grimaced, rubbing his forehead. In the end, all that mattered was the destination. That was how he handled everything. It was a good maxim. It had never failed him before. He should be celebrating. He really should.