Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Dungeons and Dragons ( Chapter 8 )

Part 8

HOGWARTS POTIONS DISASTER: MALFOY HEIR IMPLICATED

"The Daily Prophet has received disturbing information of not only a horrific explosion during a Hogwarts potions class, but also of a cover-up reaching all the way to headmaster Dumbledore himself. The incident took place nearly three weeks ago but information is only now forthcoming of an explosion of hallucinarium that poisoned an entire class of children, resulting in the hospitalization of two students who did not receive the necessary antidote when their teacher, Horace Slughorn, failed to produce enough in the event of just such an emergency. Information on other injuries is sketchy, but interviews with students confirm that several children were burned by incendio spells and one student was nearly bludgeoned to death by a chair in the hands of a panicking child.

"Everyone was screaming and crying," said one student who wishes to remain anonymous. "I just remember a loud bang and then the whole room went white."

That white color was a dense cloud of hallucinarium which quickly swept over the students. Hallucinarium, a poison that creates vivid delusions that have been known to drive wizards mad, is not covered in any school textbook, and indeed sources confirm that the lesson was unapproved by the Ministry of Magic's Department of Educational Oversight. This reporter wonders what other lessons might be going on at Hogwarts that have not been approved, placing students at great risk in the name of an unofficial war declared only in the heads of the headmaster and faculty.

More disturbing, however, is that Draco Malfoy, only son of former death eater and Hogwart's governor Lucius Malfoy, was not only present during the class but also insisted on participating as Harry Potter's partner. No word on whether he was affected by the explosion and resultant cloud of poison, but sources confirm that he was very close to the initial blast. Whether this was an attempt on Potter's life remains to be seen, but little else will be revealed to the public as Dumbledore has only released a short statement invoking his rights as headmaster to conduct the investigation himself, and thus shielding Malfoy from questioning and disallowing impartial Ministry officials into Hogwarts.

The only reason this disaster has come to light is due entirely to a handful of Hogwarts students who bravely broke their silence. We can only hope that no further harm comes to the students, or indeed, that no harm has already befallen our precious children.

Repeated requests for interviews with the Hogwarts faculty, Draco Malfoy or Albus Dumbledore have gone unanswered. If you have any information, however scant, about this or other disasters in the school, please owl Ms. Thomasina Brandleshanks, the Department for Educational Investigatory Services, Second Office, or Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet, Lead Office. Names will be kept confidential if you are afraid of reprisal."

Draco tossed the newspaper aside. As annoying as it was, he had to admit he was impressed that Dumbledore had kept the attack a secret for so long. He'd already been assured by the headmaster that he was safe from attack in Hogwarts, at least as far as enraged parents or the ministry was concerned, but Severus had told him that Dumbledore could be excruciatingly optimistic sometimes and he'd damn well better keep alert.

Fortunately the only things that might hurt him right now were safely on the other side of the great hall where Hagrid held his class. Each student had a leash with three collars and tried to coax their hydras into slithering across the room to the saucers of milk set for them. No one had succeeded, and most of them were holding their leashes out at arm's length so that the hydras couldn't bite them.

Alone in a corner of the Slytherin table which had been pushed up against the wall to make room, he sat hunched over a bronze coin. He'd already pulverized the spare human teeth that Snape had given him and he was now busy melting the surface of the coin and sprinkling in the fine powder before it could cool again, laboriously creating an amulet that would protect against hexes meant to mutilate. Four finished amulets rattled in his pocket. He had one more to do before he could start on his next project, and then with any luck Severus could fence them in a dark arts shop and he'd have spending money again.

When the bell sounded, Draco didn't have to hide his work from the students as they rushed by. Everyone knew by now that he was helping Snape supply Dumbledore with potions, and any odd work in his hands was probably meant to help aurors against the death eaters. As long as he carefully concealed any obvious dark ingredients like human body parts, no one was the wiser. And no one could tell one white powder from the next.

He hardly noticed Ron walking behind him with a disdainful hiss. Since Snape told him to stay put in his classes, he was stuck listening to the redhead's insults and comments every day.

"Found a coin?" Ron asked. "So desperate for money you're picking up stray knuts?"

"Working, actually. And how was your favorite class?" Draco asked, sliding the coin out of Ron's sight. "Better than useless charms?"

"You're the one who likes playing with snakes. I can't believe I'm stuck babysitting you, Malfoy," Ron said, spitting out his name like an insult.

"Really?" Draco smiled and looked up from his seat. "Then why don't you just leave Hogwarts like your brothers did? They're managing to survive with only a handful of OWLs between them. Or are you afraid you're as worthless outside of school as inside?"

Ron's hands curled into fists, but before he could take a swing a hand fell on his shoulder and he turned in surprise. "Harry?"

"Don't hit him," Harry said, dropping his books on the floor. "It'll only get you into trouble."

"Yes," Draco said cheerfully. "Don't hit the evil Malfoy, I'm actually producing something."

With a furious scowl, Ron stomped off, leaving them alone in the great hall. Harry sat down across from Draco and set his potions book in front of himself.

"Tell me, Malfoy," Harry said, "do you try to be a rotten snake or does it just come naturally to you?"

With a small flourish, Draco flicked his wand over the molten coin and cooled it instantly. "You'd be surprised," he mumbled to himself, pocketing the coin. The last step in the process was to soak it in blood for a day, but that would have to wait until he was alone. For now he couldn't show off dark magic ingredients where students might see.

At least spending his spare time in the great hall was useful. He banged his hand on the table and instantly lunch appeared before him. Since he often missed breakfast, eating lunch made working with Severus every evening more hospitable. Neither of them was even-tempered to begin with and it didn't help that Draco tended to become irritated when hungry. And now that he was eating both lunch and dinner, he was starting to regain some of the weight he'd lost in the past few months.

To his surprise, a second dish popped up in front of Harry. Draco blinked. "What the...?"

Without looking up, Harry put his book aside. "Dumbledore doesn't want you alone during lunchtime, so I'm eating now. Dobby didn't mind making mine early."

"Dobby?" Draco asked, narrowing his eyes. "Our house elf?"

"Your escaped elf," Harry corrected.

"He's working the kitchens here?" Draco grimaced and pushed his plate away untouched. "Damn, this is probably poisoned."

"Oh honestly." Harry switched their plates so he had Draco's and Draco had his. "He doesn't care that you're here."

"Mm." Draco eyed the plate before him but finally caved in and began eating. "Bet he's told all our secrets to anyone who cared to listen."

"It took more time to smash his head against the wall than tell what he knew," Harry said. "He told me you were all dark wizards. And that you treated him horribly."

House elves are just there to clean and be kicked, Draco thought, but he didn't say anything because he wanted to hear what else Dobby had said.

"He also said you were careful to keep your house elves from certain places. They weren't allowed in the chamber under the dining room, and they weren't allowed in the bathroom while you were inside. And that every few years, you or your father would go into the biggest bathroom in the manor, lock the door and not come out for a week."

Draco tried not to look worried, but Harry noticed anyway. The slightly widened eyes, the quick picking at his food and the way his arrogance slipped off of his face were all subtle but clear signs to anyone who'd watched the youngest Malfoy for as long as he had.

"He also said," Harry continued, "that he thinks that's why you stayed over at Hogwarts that one Christmas break. Something happened and you couldn't ride the train home."

"Damned unnatural elf," Draco muttered.

"He's earning wages," Harry said cheerfully. "Just a galleon a week, but it's something."

"Sounds like what Arthur Weasley earns," Draco laughed, his arrogance returning full force as he changed the subject. "Heh. Weasley wages."

"Must you be so petty?" Harry said. "At least they're not as shallow as you, always bragging about how much money you have."

For a moment Draco looked up at Harry with wide eyes. When as he realized that Harry was serious, he started laughing. "Oh, don't be simple, Potter. You think they're less materialistic than we are? What, that they're pure-hearted paupers with the quiet dignity of the poor?"

"They don't go waving their money in other people's faces," Harry said, remembering the way the Malfoys had supplied the Slytherin quidditch team with brooms.

"Only because they don't have any money to wave around. Good Lord, you're serious, aren't you?" Draco smiled in wonder and shook his head. "You can't tell me that in all the years you've known him, Ronald Weasley hasn't once complained about being poor? And I'm not talking about a passing annoyance with poverty, either. The boy really takes being poor as a personal insult." As satisfying as Harry's sullen glare was, Draco took more pleasure in pulling Potter's emotional strings. After all the years Voldemort spent waving around curses, all it took to rattle the champion of the wizarding world was some fine goading. "Don't forget the twins, either, with their gaudy robes. So nouveau-riche it's painful to look at them."

Struggling to keep his temper in check, Harry clenched his fists at his sides. "At least they didn't need to buy their way onto a quidditch team," he snapped.

Eyes widening, Draco clutched the table's edge so hard that his fingernails dug into the wood. "How dare you," he hissed. "I earned my place--damn near broke an arm doing it--you think it was easy being the youngest member on that team--?"

Harry sat back slightly. He'd expected Draco to get angry but not to sputter in rage. His pale face flushed light pink and his gray eyes gleamed, reflecting the cold sky through the windows.

"Hit a nerve, Malfoy?" Harry said. "Why else would your father buy brooms for the whole team?"

"To give us an edge," Draco snapped. "To make good with their parents, to say he was supporting school programs, not to mention one hell of a tax write off--" He cut himself off with a deep breath to calm down. Staring hard at Harry, he continued much more evenly. "You'd better re-think that accusation, Potter. If I'd bought my way onto the team, then what would that say about your flying when it's so hard to win against us?"

"That you're in love with cheating," Harry said readily. "And you are, don't deny it."

"Cheating's half the fun," Draco said without an ounce of guilt. "Has perfect Potter never broken the rules?"

"Not in quidditch," Harry said. "It's better to play fair."

"You'll never get far with that attitude. If the world was fair, you'd have your parents, I'd have my manor, and the ministry would be nothing but burnt cinders."

As Harry shook his head in disgust, Draco glanced out the window. Thick clouds covered the sky but here and there the sun poked through, making the view look a little like the gray lake through Slytherin's glass wall. He rolled his shoulders as if working out a cramp. For some reason he felt edgy, but he didn't know why. It was probably just from sitting next to Potter, but it didn't feel the same.

"And 'mudbloods'?" Harry asked. "Would they be dead in your 'fair' world?"

Draco laughed but didn't look down. "Even in a fair world, I suppose they wouldn't simply roll over. No matter, I'm sure we could get rid of them one way or another. They're still human, after all. They'd make wonderful spare parts."

"I just don't get you," Harry said, pushing his half-eaten plate away as he lost his appetite. "Why do you hate muggle-borns so much? Why is being pureblood so important?"

His smile disappearing, Draco let his gaze slip from the window to the table, staring at nothing as he thought for several seconds. "Have you ever seen a squib child?"

Frowning, Harry shook his head. "What's that got to do--"

"A child born to wizards, yet can't work magic himself," Draco continued as if Harry hadn't interrupted. "They grow up watching their parents perform little miracles as if it's nothing special. Their parents apparate through the town, make inanimate objects come to life. They read books that write when spoken to and play with toys that talk back.

"And as the years go by, the parents notice that nothing happens around the child. Little accidents that happen around the other children don't happen around theirs. They start wondering, they try to provoke a reaction, they try to find some glimmer, some hidden spark that makes their child magical. And there's nothing. All they can do is send their magicless child away into the muggle world, where there are no miracles in the kitchen and fairies are only in storybooks."

Harry stared at him. "It's not bad not having magic. You make it sound like the muggle world is lifeless."

"Potter..." Draco looked up at him. "How do you tell your child that you can fly on a broom but he can't?"

The great hall was silent for a long time as neither of them spoke. Draco pushed his own plate aside, and softly the plates disappeared.

"For some reason," Draco said, "as wizards marry muggles, more and more squibs are being born. We don't know why, it just is. What we do know is that it's starting to affect pureblood families who never married outsiders. And that threat to our lineage is the final twig off the broom. We might have stayed on the fringes of our world if only the ministry left us in peace, but if the mixing of wizards and muggles affects us no matter what we do, then we have no choice."

"But you're killing muggles and muggleborns," Harry said. "It's not fair to stop them if they're in love."

Draco shrugged. "And there's the problem. Your kind is willing to consign your children to magicless lives. My kind is not."

"It can't be that simple," Harry argued, "not when you said this war's lasted hundreds of years."

"Of course it isn't that simple, there are other reasons. You only asked why being pureblood is important." Draco stood up and stretched, arching his back out of the cramped position he'd been in while ignoring Hagrid's class. He didn't have textbooks or supplies for any of his classes, just his wand and his dark arts work, and he waited as Harry gathered up his homework and books.

A shadow in the window caught his eye and he looked up, a horrible chill running down his spine as he stared at the small scrap of black in the sky. He didn't know why he'd spotted it, hardly bigger than a distant raven above the forest, but it flew straighter than any bird and occasionally dipped before rising again, as if gliding instead of flying. He took a step back. The tiny shadow, all but concealed in the clouds, grew larger and larger, never turning away from Hogwarts. A second shadow appeared at its side, drafting behind in the wind.

"Malfoy?" Harry came around the end of the table and followed his look. "What are those? Big ravens?"

"Not ravens..." Draco whispered. His blood felt like ice, his breath turned shallow, and yet he felt no urge to run. In fact, running felt like a bad idea. He looked around for a safe place to hide, something small and dark and close to the ground, but with the furniture pushed aside to make room for Hagrid's class, he couldn't see any suitable hiding spots.

And then the first shadow came out of the clouds with wings unfurled, roaring so loud that even in the distance it sounded like thunder. The second dragon followed with its own roar, and then they drew their wings in tight and swooped in so fast that Draco saw the glimmer of their scales before Harry grabbed his arm and yanked him towards the door.

Halfway there, the great hall's outer wall exploded inwards and Draco stumbled to his knees as the floor shook. Stone cracked as the dragons' claws slammed onto the floor, and as they shook their heads free of dust, Draco stared at them with wide eyes. Their heads nearly touched the ceiling, their tails whipped in a frenzy and their jaws spit small flames of annoyance as their wings bumped the walls. On their armor-like scales, someone had written long strings of runes that crisscrossed their snouts, backs and chests.

"Get up," Harry whispered harshly, dragging him to his feet. "Run!"

Draco didn't move, paralyzed by fear. Their claws cracked the floor and their teeth flashed like ivory knives.

"Dammit," Harry cursed, trying to pull him to the door. "Since when do you have trouble running?"

Drawn by the sound of Harry's voice, both dragons snapped their heads around and stared not at the Boy Who Lived, but at the blonde beside him. Their eyes narrowed and the floor shook again as they moved towards him, roaring and shaking loose dust and mortar from the ceiling. The big one lowered its head and breathed out a huge stream of flame directly at him, and all the while Draco couldn't look away.

"Scellean impervius!"

A shell of white light enveloped him and Harry and the flame passed harmlessly over them. As soon as the fire dissipated, a strong hand grabbed his arm and pulled him through the door, then pushed him in the direction of the hall. Draco turned and found Severus with Dumbledore behind him sealing the door.

"Stupid child!" Severus raged, and he grabbed Draco's shoulders and shook him once. "You're not an animal. Snap out of it and run!"

Hesitating as Severus pushed him back and went to help the headmaster, Draco had a brief thought that, as strong as they were, they wouldn't be able to hold out against two dragons for long. Harry's furious pulling made him turn and follow, but once they reached the stairs, an immense crash made them both look back.

The door and the wall holding it lay in rubble on the floor and both Severus and Dumbledore were on the other side of the dragons as they jostled each other trying to get out. A purple light struck the larger dragon's eyes and it reared backwards, landing out of sight in the great hall, but that gave the small one the chance to lunge forward and race towards the boys. Finally Draco felt a spike of human fear.

"Draco, for God's sake--" Harry started, but when he turned he saw that he was standing alone.

Already on the staircase, Draco ran up the steps but stopped suddenly, nearly losing his balance as the staircase turned and swooped towards a different door. He looked over his shoulder at the same time the dragon inhaled for another jet of flame. With no time to second-guess himself, Draco looked over the edge and leaped off the staircase into the air.

His timing off by a second, he slammed sideways into the staircase one flight below, then nearly slid off the steps worn slick over the years. Grabbing the last bit of railing, he hung on by one hand and looked up. Harry stood at the very top of the stairwell screaming and waving his arms and doing his best to get the dragon's attention, but it wasn't looking at anything except Draco. The staircase nearly jolted him off as it turned again, and he gasped as the edge moved towards another door, threatening to crush him if he didn't move.

Letting go as the dragon plunged over the side, he landed on a walkway just beneath and sprang sideways through the doorway. Behind him, two staircases shattered as the dragon broke through, catching itself on the walls before it could fall too far. Draco stood and ran down the hall, losing his footing whenever the dragon grabbed the wall hard enough to shake the castle. He turned another corner as the dragon burst through the doorway and started after him again.

It would be damn ironic, he though, if he was killed by the animal he was named after. If he survived this war, he hoped he'd have the sense to name his children after something more peaceful. Pegasus, maybe. He didn't care if it sounded stupid, since he was sure that he could handle being chased by a pegasus much better than the monster rounding the corner he'd passed a second ago.

Surprised he had made this far without being burned, he put on a burst of speed when he saw the angled corridor that led to the dungeons. The ceiling dropped a few feet and the walls narrowed considerably. He didn't dare turn around to see how close the dragon was, and he didn't have to. Scales sliding against stone told him that the dragon was having a hard time squeezing behind him, but the sound of stone flakes hitting the floor meant that it was pushing through regardless. Hearing it inhale again, he sprinted the last few feet to the bend and leaped to the right. Fire passed over his back as he hit the ground, but the dragon couldn't breathe deep in the cramped halls and the scant flames couldn't even singe his clothes.

Thinking he might be able to lose it in the dungeons, Draco took several winding twists and paths and started to forget where he was. After two more turns, he ran face first into a brick wall and landed on his back on the floor. Groaning, he held his head and stared dumbfounded at the wall. Impossible, he thought. He knew he hadn't taken any wrong turns, he knew the dungeons inside and out, at least as much as anyone could considering how often it moved.

"Not fair!" he cried, painfully getting to his feet. "How am I supposed to get away if you move!" The dragon's labored breathing and heavy steps echoed around him, impossible to pinpoint. Tired and winded, he leaned on the wall and moaned. "God, even the castle wants me dead..."

He landed on the floor doubled up in pain before he realized that the dragon had been on the other side of the impromptu wall and punched through, hitting him at the same time. The thought that the castle had tried to protect him disappeared as a long spiny arm shot through the narrow passage and landed on his chest, claws on either side of his head screeching on the stone floor as it dragged him closer. He tried to push the paw off but it didn't budge. In a few seconds, he'd be close enough for it to bite.

His gray eyes met the dragon's green, and for a moment they stared at each other. Draco saw nothing but hate and anger, a consuming desire to destroy him that had nothing to do with the runes written on its scales. Though he was certain the dragon was a tool of Voldemort's, he knew that if this creature had known of his existence, it would have hunted him just as doggedly. As before in the great hall, Draco felt no urge to run, simply to hide, and now that no one was screaming and distracting him, he gave into the urge and let his instincts swallow him.

The world changed. The dragon grew a thousand times larger, the ceiling looked as far away as the sky. Even his cloak and robes became cavernous and he slipped out of them with ease, slithering across the floor and into a tiny dark hole barely large enough for him. Winding into a coil, he lay his head down on his white scales and watched the dragon rip into his robes, biting them furiously without realizing he was no longer inside.

Not sure how much time had passed, he glanced sideways down the hall when he heard footsteps but he didn't move for fear of drawing attention to himself. Several pairs of feet ran by him and a slew of spells silenced the dragon and held it still.

"Oh Merlin, I think it killed him," someone said. To Draco's new shape, her voice sounded as if she was underwater.

"There's no blood," someone else said. "I'm sure he got away somehow, Severus."

His master ignored them and walked up to the sleeping dragon, pulling the cloak and robes from its grasp and shaking them out. Other voices asked why he was doing that but he didn't respond.

"Bloody hell," came Ron's voice, and Draco would've hissed at him but he was afraid of being spotted. "You think he's running around starkers?"

"Of course not," Severus snapped. "Fan out. He must have hidden somewhere."

Once the last seals were placed on the dragon, everyone walked away, leaving only Severus nearby. When the last footsteps faded and he was sure no one could hear him, the potions master looked around at the floor. "Draco?" he whispered. "Are you in here?"

Draco didn't move except to close his eyes. He couldn't stand the thought of his master finding him like this, tiny and fragile and weak. He was almost of age, he would finish his apprenticeship soon, and here he was hiding like a pathetic child. And after Severus had said he wasn't an animal, too.

"Draco, I know you can't have gone far," Severus said, his voice turning impatient. "Answer me, damn you. I don't have time to search for a wayward snake."

"Who are you talking to?" Harry asked, quietly coming up the hall.

"Ah, now you show up," Severus said, drawing himself to his full height. "You are supposed to be with him at all times."

"Come off it, even the dragon couldn't keep up." Harry gave a humorless laugh. "I don't know anyone who can keep pace with him once he gets going."

"So what, then? You ducked into a classroom and huddled with the rest of the students?"

"No," Harry said, audibly bristling. "I nearly got roasted when that big one charged again. When you let it by, as I recall. Too busy ducking in a corner?"

"Don't you dare call me a coward," Severus hissed. "That the headmaster and I got that one sealed by ourselves is damn near a miracle."

"Oh, did you strain a muscle attacking it from behind?"

The two continued arguing, their voices growing more and more heated as they tightened their grips on their wands, echoing painfully on the stones. Draco turned away from the noise and winced and wished they would both go away.

At once, Harry stopped arguing and looked around. "Draco?"

Severus quieted. "You heard him?"

"Is he in here?" Harry looked up and down the corridor but saw no one. He waved his arms around to see if Draco was invisible.

"Draco Malfoy, I know you're in here," Severus said, kneeling and ignoring Harry as best he could. He lowered his voice even more when he heard footsteps on either side of the walls. As loathe as he was to let Potter in on the secret, he had no choice but to act quickly or else the entire school would know before the day's end. "Come out before anyone else comes back."

Peeking out first even though he knew they were alone, Draco slid out of his hiding spot and darted across the floor, hissing at how cold it was. He raced up Severus' offered hand and coiled his tail once around his master's wrist to steady himself.

Beside them, Harry gasped and leaned closer. "That's him? That little white snake? How did he...?"

"You must not tell anyone about this," Severus whispered. "Anyone at all. They'll kill him if they find out."

Hardly paying attention, Harry watched as Draco reared up and looked back at him. To his new eyes, Draco saw the world in stark black and white, and Harry was a bunch of lines and shadows. Snape pulled his hand a few inches from Harry and Draco extended his wings for balance, wishing his master would take him back to the Slytherin common room so he could figure out how to turn back again.

"Why would they kill him?" Harry whispered. "He's so...his wings are bloody gorgeous."

Draco blinked and stared at him, tilting his head curiously. Gingerly flexing his wings, they looked so thin as to be transparent with slender bones arching over them to give them shape. So delicate that they were more of a handicap than a means of flight, he folded them up with a little puff of pride. Useless or not, Harry was right about them being gorgeous.

"Oh, for the love of..." Severus drew Draco close to his chest and concealed him with a flourish of his robe.

Even though he was used to his master's brusqueness, Draco found that being hidden away stung his pride. He coiled up in Snape's hand and wished he could hear what the two were saying, but all he heard were their voices muffled through the cloth.

Intense vertigo made him sway as Snape suddenly lowered his hand and set him on one of the couches in the Slytherin common room. His cloak was also dropped onto the corner and he slithered into its warm folds and disappeared, barely poking his nose out to see his master and, to his surprise, Harry beside him.

"Don't you dare hide again," Severus snapped. "Change back immediately, or I'll have another set of wyvern's claws for my potions."

"Wyvern?" Harry asked, kneeling down to peer into the shadow Draco was hiding in. "Is that just a winged snake."

"Of course not," Severus said, glaring sideways at him. "A wyvern is fallere draconis, a false dragon. That's why those two Welsh Greens were after him so badly."

Inside the cloak, Draco realized that Snape wasn't going to take Harry out and give him some time to change back. With a hiss that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, he burrowed under the cloak and concentrated. As much as he didn't want to face either of them right now, especially when Harry was making his master even angrier, he didn't have a choice.

He didn't like changing, either. Without the distraction of a dragon trying to eat him, he felt his skin writhe and tingle uncomfortably as his body reformed itself, as if the dark magic that always threatened to swallow him had turned tangible and covered him like oil. Curled up in a tight ball under his cloak, he coughed a few times and slowly reached up to push the edge from his face. Slytherin's torches glowed softly and the air felt warm, but all the same he started to tremble. His side hurt from where he'd landed on the staircase, his arm hurt from holding him up, and his chest and head ached from the fall and the dragon's claws on top of him. Escaping from dragons didn't compare to running through the forest, but it hurt all the same.

"Here," Severus said, pushing a bottle against his hand. "Take that before it gets worse."

Blinking against the light, Draco sat up to take a sip and resealed the bottle before he looked at the label. He raised an eyebrow at Pomfrey's medicinal mix that wasn't to be taken from her office. She probably didn't even know his master had snuck it out. He meant to put it on the end table near his head, but his hand slipped and the toppled sideways. He winced, waiting for a crash, but instead he watched Potter catch it and set it back on the table.

Draco looked away. Hard to be arrogant and superior when he lay naked save for his cloak, too sickly to coordinate himself, about to appeal to Potter's damn mercy. "You won't tell anyone, will you?" he whispered.

"That you're an animagus?" Harry asked. "I don't think anyone would kill you for it."

Biting back an insult, Draco instead snorted. "I'm not an animagus," he said. "I'm a half-breed. There's a difference."

"'Half-breed'?" Harry echoed. "Wait, so you're not a pureblood?"

Groaning in frustration, Severus looked down at Harry as if he was Neville on a particularly bad day. "I refuse to stand here and educate you in basic wizarding culture. I'll be outside getting rid of those dragons. Draco, make sure he doesn't touch anything," he said and walked out of Slytherin, leaving them alone.

"Could've left me something to wear," Draco mumbled, tugging the cloak securely around himself. But he knew that an angry Severus was not a considerate Severus and he was probably lucky Snape hadn't shouted at him in front of Potter. He spotted his shredded robes on the table so he reached over and fished his wand out, delighted that it was intact. A quick engorgio charm made the cloak twice its size, easily larger than the blankets on his bed.

"If you're not a pureblood," Harry continued with a look of disgust, "then you're an absolute bloody hypocrite. The way you talk about killing muggles and hating muggleborns, and then being one yourself--"

"I'm not a mudblood," Draco growled. "If anything, my blood's more pure than almost anyone else's."

"How the hell do you figure that?" Harry asked. "You're half animal--"

"Blooded Malfoys have been half-breed wyverns for over eight hundred years," Draco said. "And we never married anything except other purebloods since then."

"That makes no sense, it would've bred out by now! And if you're part animal, how on earth can you say you're not a muggle--" Harry suddenly stopped and considered what he'd just said.

"Starting to think?" Draco asked snidely. "Try not to hurt yourself."

"So...being part animal is better than being part muggle?" Harry asked.

"Not just any animal. Animals that are powerful reservoirs of pure, wild magic, like wyverns, dragons...I think there was a family that had thestral in their blood. If the woman can survive the initial mating and birth, that magic becomes tied to the family."

"Why would anyone do that?"

"For one thing, no Malfoy child has ever been born a squib. And our blood's powerful enough to keep us from becoming inbred. If some of us purebloods didn't have wild magic in us, we'd have all gone the way of Salazar's descendents."

Harry stiffened noticeably at the mention of Salazar Slytherin's family but he didn't say anything about them. "Ron's a pureblood," he said slowly. "I've never seen him change."

"Well, of course not," Draco said as if it was the most obvious thing. "He might be pureblood, but he's certainly no dark wizard. This is purely our custom."

"And that's why you'll be attacked if anyone finds out," Harry said. "They'd know for sure you're dark."

Draco waved his hand idly and fidgeted on the couch, but then grabbed his cloak before it could slip down too far. He sighed and wished he hadn't made Severus so upset.

"But it still makes no sense," Harry said. "If my kind...wait, I can't keep saying my kind. If you're dark, then do you call my kind light wizards?"

Irritated at all the questioning of aspects of his life that he took for granted, Draco turned testy. "No, we call you blood-traitors and mudbloods."

Harry scowled. "You peevish little...fine. Light wizards it is." Gratified to see Draco scowl back, Harry continued. "If light wizards can turn into animagi, why wouldn't they also have more half-breeds?"

"You've seen how they treat the half-giant idiot," Draco said. "And you've seen how they treat centaurs. Being half-wyvern is no better in their eyes."

"Or yours," Harry said. "You make fun of Hagrid all the time for being half-giant."

"Yeah, well, he makes it so easy," Draco said with a smile. "And it pisses you off, so that's even better."

"But why would you--?"

"What, you think I'd lay off him just 'cause I'm half-breed, too?" Draco laughed. "Half-breed solidarity? First off, my own blood is far more refined. The wyvern aspect runs over eight centuries back, while his giant blood is only one generation apart. Besides, dark magic comes first, and he badmouths us every chance he gets...never mind how often he drops into Gowdie's Gold to roll the bones."

"Gowdie's...what?"

"It's a casino in Knockturn Alley. Really, Potter, all the rule-breaking you love to do and yet you've never been through there?" He shrugged and leaned back on the couch, resting his head on the padded arm. Pomfrey's magic worked wonders but the chase, his transformation and the waning trembling still left him exhausted and he looked forward to sleeping through the afternoon. "Your loss. The Devil's Delights beats anything the Hogsmeade candy shoppes have."

Neither spoke for a moment. Draco wondered why Potter hadn't left yet, but after two dragons making swiss cheese out of the castle, keeping Potter around was a good idea. The Gryffindor could tell everyone that the dragons had been out for Draco's blood alone, and that the whole thing wasn't an elaborate Malfoy plot to destroy the world. The Prophet would probably still try to link him to the dark lord, and maybe this time Dumbledore wouldn't be able to keep the ministry out of it. Of course Harry would have a paragraph devoted to his heroic attempts to save the school, going so far as to protect the ungrateful Malfoy brat.

He glanced at Harry who sat staring at the lake looking lost in thought. "Potter?"

"What?"

"At the staircase, you were waving and screaming like a madman."

"I was not! I was trying to get the dragon's attention," Harry said.

"Why?"

Harry hesitated. His silence stretched longer as he thought, and after a minute he still showed no sign of giving an answer.

"You couldn't have stopped it on your own," Draco said.

"Everyone says I have a hero complex," Harry mumbled.

"Tch. Some hero," Draco scoffed. "It didn't even look at you."

"Look, I just didn't want it eating you," Harry said. "You're helping Snape with those potions, you nearly blew up Voldemort, you've been teaching me and Hermione, and I know how you hate teaching her but you're still doing it...I just didn't want you getting eaten by a dragon. Is that such a big deal you have to question it?"

For the Boy Who Lived to save the Boy Who Lived to Make Potter's Life Miserable, for a blood traitor to save a dark wizard, for Potter to save Lucius Malfoy's son, yes of course, it was such a big deal it was practically world-shattering, but Draco didn't say any of that. He just looked down at the floor and mumbled a quick "thank you." And before Potter could think of anything to say to that, Draco turned around to face the back of the couch and drew the cloak up around his face.

"I'm going to sleep," he said. "You don't have to stay here, you can go join your friends."

"Wait--" Harry said, but the sound of the main door opening made him look up.

Striding into the common room with his arms bloody to the elbow, Severus walked past him and used Draco's tattered robes as rags to clean off the blood. Several coins clinked onto the table and Severus glanced at them.

"You can soak those in dragon's blood tomorrow," Snape said to his apprentice, not caring that he was pretending to be asleep. "They'll fetch a higher price then."

"You killed them?" Harry asked, eyeing the stains on Snape's hands.

"The headmaster slaughtered the first one, but I did the second. The dark lord made a grave tactical error in sending us dragons. There are so many potions we can create from them." Severus glanced at Draco and then Harry. "You're no longer needed and Miss Granger suspects I've fed you to a dragon. Get going."

With a last futile look at Draco, Harry got up and left. Snape watched him leave and then set a charm on the door so that it wouldn't open to anyone else even if given the password. Another spell unlocked one of the antique cabinets across the room, revealing a small bar of alcohol that Severus now helped himself to. After fighting two dragons, he imagined he'd feel better after a stiff drink.

"Get some sleep," Snape said, draining his glass. "We'll start stripping those dragons down to parts in a few hours, once the runes have been dispelled."

"Is that how they got passed the wards?" Draco asked, not moving.

"We won't know until the headmaster and McGonagall are done examining them, but that is a fair guess." He locked the cabinet back up and straightened his robes. They were singed, but he didn't have time to change them yet. He still had work to do sealing up a much draftier castle. "Congratulations on surviving," he said after a moment. "I don't think I could have faced Lucius with your ashes in a jar and an apology."

Draco closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Severus asked. "Nearly letting those things burn you to a crisp? Hiding from your master? Letting a Malfoy secret slip to Potter?"

"No...I'm apologizing to my children, if I live long enough to have any," Draco said. "This is going to be one hell of a nightmare for them."

Intending to leave, Severus walked by him but paused at the steps. "You know they're not nightmares," he said softly. "They're memories."

Memories passed down through blood, Draco knew. His mother had been the one to tell him that the strange people in his dreams and the terrible things that happened to him were not the products of reading scary books before bedtime. "I know," he said. "And that makes them worse."

TBC...

Authors Notes:

1. scellean impervius -- from the Old English scell, shell, and Latin impervius, impervious