On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads

Enigmaris

Chapter 41: Draco Malfoy and The Power of Friendship

Summary:

The Dark Mark is a powerful magical binding.

It's also killing Draco Malfoy and Harry has no idea what to do.

Notes:

Happy New Decade everyone! Thank you all for reading this and enjoying it as much as you have. The comments on this story each week give me such joy! I never expected anyone to read this as much as you all have, so seriously thank you!

3

Chapter Text

The Dark Mark was just the latest in a long line of innovative magic.

Its rich history began nearly 2000 years ago when a group of slavers came together and determined that they needed a way to ensure that their newest acquisitions stayed put. A rudimentary mark was designed, something placed over the heart of a new slave, something that would kill them if they attempted to leave their servitude.

The first iterations lacked the potency of later versions. It was almost crude. All it did was keep slaves tied to a certain place. It did not command them, it did not own them. The flaw of this plan of course was that when slaves rebelled and killed their masters they now owned the land they were tied too and they were able to use their marks to strengthen that ownership.

So newer generations reinvented the marks. The next generation required complete obedience or it would kill the marked. This back fired because some marks allowed the marked to interpret commands in anyway they chose, resulting in the deaths of owners and the freedom of the slave or the marks required obedience even when commands were vague resulting in spontaneous death if the marked couldn't complete the task given.

Things were sticky after that. Groups of slavers would come up with their own versions of the marks that they would claim had worked out all of these problems, but that really didn't. Part of the charm of buying slaves from certain groups was the marks these slaves would have, hoping that this would be the safest from of magical slave ownership. The workings of these marks remained trade secrets, their weaknesses and how to break them hidden behind secret combinations and threats of murder.

All the way up until the 1600s that was how things worked. Then the statute of secrecy was enacted and the enslavement of magical people was outlawed globally. This of course instituted the creation and enslavement of house elves but that is another story entirely. The secrets of these slave marks was lost to time as slavers were killed or jailed and the knowledge was hidden far away where most witches and wizards could pretend it never was.

That was until Tom Riddle stuck his nose into places he really should not have.

Tom Riddle read about the history of these marks, Professor Binns had been ever so kind allowing him into the restricted section, he could not find the original spells but he was smart. He could guess at their function and more importantly he could see their weaknesses for what they were.

You see the problem with these marks was that they punished disobedience with death.

Tom knew, even as a young man, that there were far worse things than death.

And so, the Dark Mark was born.

It was intricately designed, using a mixture of parseltongue magic and just a bit of soul magic. It tied the owner to the marked via their souls. It allowed Voldemort access to their hearts, their minds, and most importantly their bodies in a way that no other mark before it could. It was a permanent sort of mark that allowed him near complete control of his followers. He could cause them incredible pain and he could siphon off their magic to supplement his own, something that if taken too far would result in death or madness. He could and had left some of his followers in the same state as someone who was given the dementors kiss.

All of this information was something that Harry Potter did not know as he held up a screaming Draco Malfoy on the steps of Gringotts bank. He did not know that Draco's soul had been forcibly bound to Lord Voldemort's. He did not know that Voldemort planned to drive Draco insane as punishment for his betrayal. He didn't know anything.

All he knew was that the boy he'd been trying to help, who annoyed him beyond all means, who was good at potions and dueling and knew more about pureblood traditions than just about anyone (even if Ron argued otherwise), was screaming worse than people who'd been hit by the cruciatus. His dad wasn't there, his friends didn't know what to do, and his uncle was standing over them worriedly.

"Harry." Hermione said. "You've got to…This isn't something I can heal."

"Mate." Ron said. "The prophecy says you match You-Know-Who, if anyone can help him it's got to be you."

Harry took in a calming breath and nodded.

"Help me lay him down." He said. "I'm going to try…something."

Draco was still screaming even as Hermione and Ron helped pull him down onto the steps, Ron using his knees to pillow Draco's head while Hermione held his hands and kept him from scratching or hitting himself. Harry took the arm that had the Dark Mark and stared at it. It looked red and inflamed, the snake in the center was swirling almost violently.

What was he supposed to do?

What would his dad do?

Stop the pain first, figure out the cause later. He nodded to himself, he could do that. He could block a connection between Voldemort and someone else, he was doing it right now. He placed his hand over the mark, barely flinching at the sting of dark magic on his skin. He closed his eyes and focused his senses as best he could. His dad had taught him, had promised him, that he could sense magic, that that was a gift he'd used in quidditch, that he was good at it.

Draco needed him to be good at it.

It wasn't hard to sense the dark mark, it made his scar tingle. He tried to separate out the energy that made Draco Draco and the energy of the mark. But it meshed and melded together like two liquids, almost impossible to truly differentiate. How could he shield against something like that? How could he help Draco if things were so tightly woven? Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and another one placed on top of his own hand. He didn't open his eyes but he still knew it was his dad. He hadn't heard him coming over Draco's desperate cries.

"Harry." His dad said. "You can do this."

"Dad. It's…it's all messed up."

"You know what parts are Voldemort." His dad insisted, his hand curled over Harry's. Harry could feel his dad's magic ignite. It was a comforting warmth, helping buffet him against the strain of dark magic, stabilizing Harry's own senses. "You know his energy better than anyone, better than me, perhaps even better than himself. Repel it."

"I don't know how."

"Remember what I've taught you about magic. Remember and do. He doesn't have long. This isn't something I can do for you. I can't do soul magic. You must."

Harry swallowed back his uncertainty and called for the part of his magic that he used so rarely. His hands ignited in purple flame, no hint of any other color present. His eyes were open as he stared at the royal purple color as it licked at Draco's skin.

"Hold him still." Harry told Hermione. "This is probably going to hurt."

She reached out and gripped Draco's upper arm and shoulder pushing him against the ground so that he couldn't wriggle. Draco's cries had quieted, but that was mostly because he'd screamed himself hoarse. Harry took in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and he pushed.

He visualized in his mind the feeling of Voldemort's magic, of his soul. His dad was right. He did know what it felt like. While the dark lord's magic was still quite thickly mixed with Draco's, Harry could still sense it. It was that he pushed at, demanding that it go back to exactly where it had come from. It wasn't wanted or welcome there in Draco.

Abruptly it felt like his ears were popping. Voldemort's magic didn't want to move but Harry was stopping it from moving any deeper. Draco stopped screaming and Harry felt him relax beneath him.

"Whatever you're doing Potter, don't stop." He croaked.

"I…I can't push it away." Harry said. "It won't move."

"We might have to take the arm off." Thor said.

"Thor no." His dad chastised. "We're not cutting your arm off Mr. Malfoy. I doubt that would even work anyway. Tell me, how did he put this on you? Anything you can remember?"

"I…" Draco coughed. "He put his wand on my arm and then he…he…spoke parseltongue and it burned."

"You can do magic with parseltongue?" Harry asked looking up at Malfoy for the first time. He looked wrecked, his face covered with tears and sweat from the attack.

"Of course, you can, it's a very unique sort of Midgardian magic." His dad said. "I have no idea how it works but I imagine it follows many of the same rules."

"Right. Well that's…something." Harry said. "Draco are you alright? I'm going to try and get rid of this thing."

"You can't remove the dark mark."

"Watch me." Harry said grinning. He looked back down at Malfoys forearm and he hissed out very carefully. "Be gone."

Voldemort's magic, his soul, ebbed away from Harry's hands and Draco's body. But it didn't leave. Harry frowned and tried again.

"Be gone."

No. It didn't go. Did he need specific words? Surely there was something that would repel it. Harry didn't have time to try out a thousand different words.

"It's not…I don't know what words to use."

"Maybe you don't need the right words." Hermione said. "Your mum didn't have special words."

"She had love." His dad added.

"So what? He has to love Draco to get rid of the dark mark?" Ron joked.

"Just cut my arm off." Draco begged.

"Shut up Malfoy."

"Harry, if you don't want to…"

"No." Harry said. "I'm going to try."

"What?" Draco squawked at him. "Potter-"

Harry ignored him and focused inwardly again. He didn't want Draco to die or whatever it was Voldemort was doing to him. He did not want Draco to be in that sort of pain.

And was that not love?

Sure, it wasn't the sort of love that was spoken of in song and legend. But it was far more tangible. There was something to be said for loving a person without having to like them. To be able to see them as a person deserving of safety and love even if they were…well a bit annoying sometimes. Harry loved Draco like he loved almost every other person he'd ever met. If there was one thing that the Dursleys had taught him by denying him everything he'd ever needed, it was that everyone deserved that sort of love.

"Get out. You're not welcome here, Tom."

His magic flared out of him. He wasn't begging, not like his mum had, no he was commanding. Voldemort was not welcome here because Draco Malfoy was loved. He was loved by his mother and by his friends and even in some odd way by Harry.

And like his magic was made to do it, it shredded the magic that was so deeply entrenched into Malfoy's soul. Draco made a strange noise and Harry thought he heard something like birdsong. He opened his eyes to look up and see that his friends were staring at him slack jawed. Around them the steps they'd been kneeling on were now covered with lilies. A riot of colors, the flowers had grown so quickly they'd cracked the marble and transformed everything in the area into what looked like a peaceful meadow.

"Did it work?" Draco asked.

Carefully Harry lifted up his hand, the one that had been covering Draco's forearm. They all looked down to see Draco's arm was now completely bare. Draco gasped while Harry fell back against his dad in relief. He turned to look at the man and giggled at the sight. His dad was still in disguise, he looked like a mixture between Tony and Volstagg with a very large ugly nose in the middle of his face.

It was ridiculous.

"It's not funny."

"It sort of is." Harry said giggling.

"Says the boy who impersonated the Dark Lord." His dad said making Harry burst into another flurry of giggles. Hermione and Ron meanwhile helped pull Draco up into a seated position. The guy had a cut on his left cheek as well as a gash on his right arm that had come from a barely dodged spell. Hermione and Ron were also injured having picked up a few injuries themselves where their armor didn't protect them completely. Harry thought, up until the point Draco had been seen by Voldemort, that the guy had held up well. Maybe there was something to the idea of pureblood training.

His dad reached out and plucked a lily that had petals that started out a deep maroon near the center and changed into a bright yellow at the tips. He tucked it behind Harry's ear with a smile.

"It worked." Draco said, staring down at his now pristine arm. "Potter how…"

"People love you Malfoy. Your mum, Blaise, and Pansy." Harry said shrugging. "I figured, if there are people who care that much about you, then you probably weren't so terrible. Made it easy."

That made Draco roll his eyes and caused Ron to smirk.

"Well. Thank you." He said.

"Oh, don't mention it." Harry said. "I was just paying you back for earlier."

That made Draco's face go slack again in shock and then his entire face reddened in fury.

"How dare you."

"Wot?"

"I'd just repaid that stupid debt and now you've gone and shoved me right back in!" He shouted. "I ought to hex you for this!"

"Oh come on Malfoy." Ron said. "This calls for congratulations."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've just joined a very exclusive club." He said. "Welcome abord bloodtraitor."

Draco groaned at that which made Harry burst into laughter again. They'd done it. They'd won this battle and Harry had found a new avenue to explore his soul magic. This wasn't a power so foreign to him he couldn't ever divine what it did. No. It was him and it was his and it was love.

"You're on the team now I'm afraid." Hermione said. "But I'm not going to apologize for punching you. You deserved that."

"Aren't the good guys supposed to be kind?"

"That's Harry's job." Hermione said. "We get to the be the teeth."

"Huh."

Harry frowned at Hermione for suggesting that he wasn't capable of being his own teeth, he'd punched his dad in the face after all, she'd just lifted up an eyebrow to remind him that he'd just destroyed a dark mark for the first time in history with the power of love.

Well fine.

Harry wasn't going to be ashamed. He'd just figured out how he was going to defeat Voldemort. He was going to love. Tyr's words finally made sense. He'd been chosen for a reason, he had his mother's heart and he was going to follow it.

"Excuse me?" Someone said. Harry turned to see a woman in periwinkle robes standing at the bottom of the steps. "Mr. Potter?"

"That's me." Harry said. "Do you need any help?"

"Well. I'm Maria Bloodworth, from the Daily Prophet." She said making Harry grimace just slightly. She noticed and sighed. "I know you've had run-ins with us before, Miss Skeeter tends to make a bit of an impression."

"I don't really want to give a statement…"

"Promise you won't use a quick quill." Draco cut in looking at her with a deadly calculation in his eyes. "A magical oath for an honest representation of events and you'll get a statement from him. Anything else and you're out of luck. If you try to print about him anyway, I will sue."

"Malfoy." Harry hissed, but Draco ignored him.

Bloodworth opened her mouth but Draco cut her off again.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. It's been the law for 3 centuries that all lords and ladies have the right to demand accurate representation in media." He said. "And if you violate pureblood law again the Malfoy Clan will involve themselves."

She nodded a little looking a bit put out.

"Yes, Lord Malfoy."

"Then give the promise and ask your questions. Can't you see we've had a trying day?"

What was he doing? Harry looked at Draco feeling quite alarmed by the turn this had taken.

"Of course." She said. "I, Maria Bloodworth, swear on my magic to present the facts honestly as they are given to me about this attack on Diagon Alley."

When the oath took hold, Draco stared at her for a moment, sniffed, and then gave a decisive nod.

"She's good. Ask your questions."

Which is how Harry ended up giving his first fair interview, or rather Draco answered the questions for him in a very snobby tone that made Harry look like he was some sort of saint and Voldemort like he was the mud beneath Draco's expensive boots. Bloodworth clearly didn't enjoy the run around Draco was so expertly giving her. When she asked about the absence of Albus Dumbledore, Draco snorted and pointed out that the dear headmaster was getting quite old and that while his aid was always welcome, it was time for the new generation to rise up. (He somehow managed to imply that the war was as bad as it was because Dumbledore was incompetent without actually saying anything of the sort).

When she asked about the presence of the muggles in Diagon, Draco had asked who she thought would have the might to stand up against the Dark Lord but a team that had a god on their side.

On and on it went. His dad smirked at Draco's cunning while the golden trio just stared at Draco as if he'd grown an extra head.

She asked why Draco, a well known Voldemort sympathizer, was siding with Harry Potter of all people. Draco had shown her his clean forearm and spoke with devastating exactness.

"The Dark Lord marked me his without my consent. Potter freed me. That's what he's here to do." Draco said. "He's here to free us, I say we let him."

Eventually the interview drew to a close, as they'd spoken, aurors had arrived to arrest captured death eaters and magic users were working together to begin on the most needed repairs. Healers from St. Mungo's were carefully healing up anyone they could find. All of the Avengers had gathered around them, sporting a few injuries but overall looking quite pleased with themselves.

"May I have one direct quote Mr. Potter? For the headline I mean? Just about how you feel about your role in the war."

"Uhm. Yeah." Harry said. He had no idea what to say but Draco's lifted eyebrow made it clear he'd better figure it out quick. He swallowed and spoke carefully. "My entire life has been defined by this war, it took my family, it took my childhood. But I've…I've decided it's not going to take anymore. I'm going to fight for peace, for freedom, because I love this world and all the people in it. So yeah. It's time right now to stand up for our families and our beliefs. It's time to end this war once and for all."

Maria was staring at him with wide brown eyes. He swallowed awkwardly.

"Was that okay?"

"What? Yes of course it was perfect. Thank you so much Lord Potter. I best get to writing this if it's going to make it for the morning papers."

The next morning Harry looked at the front page of the Daily Prophet. Someone had managed to get a picture of him as he was getting rid of Draco's dark mark. His entire body was bathed in purple light and around him the flowers were blooming up out of the stone steps in response to his magic. His dad was outside of the frame, only the hand he had over his was visible while Ron, Hermione, and Draco were on full display.

The title on the article?

The New Leader of the Light: Harry Potter, a Champion for all?

Harry pretended not to notice Dumbledore's glare.