Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ The Battle Is Met ( Chapter 23 )

Part 23

His face partially darkened by the low hood of his cloak, even without his mask Lucius looked like a death eater, dangerous and willing to cause pain. He also looked thinner with shadows around his eyes, but there was strength in his grip as he set Draco back upright.

"You're alive," Draco whispered, putting his hands on his father's. "I thought--I was starting to think--why didn't you tell us you were alive?"

"I wanted to," Lucius said. "But we couldn't take the chance. He's been hunting for us. We've been moving around from house to house, killing his followers when we could. If we'd tried to send an owl, he would've spotted it."

"Mother?" Draco asked.

Lucius sighed. "I don't know. But the few death eaters we captured didn't know anything, either, so there's hope."

"You can worry about her later," Severus said behind them. "Draco, can you change back?"

"I think so," Draco answered. "But I lost my clothes--."

Severus dropped a wet pile by his tail. "They tore free when you hit the floor. You're lucky your wand didn't snap."

"How's Harry?" Draco asked. "Did he break anything?"

"We'll see to him," Severus said, obviously loathe to discuss Potter in front of Lucius. "Change."

Although they were alone, Draco felt exposed transforming in the middle of the corridor and rushed the magic along, gritting his teeth as his skin rippled. While he dressed, he noticed that both his father and Severus had fallen silent, looking over Harry and tending his few injuries. Which was good, since he would have expected them to kill Harry on sight, especially his father. Their hushed voices mingled with the lapping water as Lucius asked why Harry had been in Slytherin. Dreading the coming conversation, Draco wondered if he could stall it.

"What else has happened?" he asked as he pulled on his shoes. "Slytherin floods and no one comes, not even to gloat."

"The dark lord attacked all of Hogwarts," Severus said over his shoulder. "Destroying Slytherin and Gryffindor was merely his first strike--"

"Gryffindor?" Draco echoed. "Was it Filch's runes--?"

"Yes, we missed a handful of runes on the tower," Snape said. "After the blast, it was all we could do to keep Gryffindor tower from collapsing before we could evacuate all the students, and then when the Slytherins started coming--"

"But you said they all came through!"

"And they did," he snapped. "McGonagall took them away with the Gryffindors after the first attack. I don't know where. And there's no way to communicate with anyone but Lucius' knights."

"Might be able to help there..." Harry mumbled.

Wriggling between Severus and Lucius, Draco bent over Harry, slipping an arm around his waist to ease him up. After spending so much time leaning on his Gryffindor's strength, he felt awkward holding Harry in his arms, cradling his head against his chest. Somehow his glasses had stayed put throughout that wild ride, and Draco gave them a tiny nudge back into place.

"Feel a bit waterlogged," Harry murmured. "What happened?"

"You almost drowned," Draco said, pushing his wet hair from his face. "The squid nearly killed us, but Severus killed it first."

"Hermione?"

Draco smiled to reassure him. "She got away with the others--"

"Severus, what haven't you told me?"

His father's voice, low and angry and threatening, brought Draco back to reality. Lucius did not know what had happened in Hogwarts over the past few months but had clearly guessed something of truth. He looked up, expecting to see his father holding a wand aimed at Harry. Even if his father meant to kill him, Draco thought he could reason with him.

Instead Lucius ignored his son and focused his attention solely at Severus. Draco's breath hitched. He'd always known his father was a dangerous man but only to other people, blood traitors and mudbloods and muggle vermin. His grip tightened on Harry as Lucius glared at his master, but even more frightening was how Snape drew back, lowering his head as if admitting he was wrong. Severus never gave into his father's tantrums. But Lucius wasn't throwing a tantrum now.

"There was no way to contact you," Severus started.

"I'm here now." Lucius stepped closer, looming over his master.

"The boys have grown close," Severus said, not meeting Lucius' eyes. "They have saved each other's lives"--he drove on over Lucius' sharp breath--"and while they are not yet betrothed--"

"Betrothed?" Lucius hissed. "Betrothed? Bind my son to that half-blood bane? To that blood traitor? After everything he's done? Has Draco's honor been broken--?"

"No, of course not--"

"'Of course'? I find things are not running according to course. You have permitted--"

"I permitted nothing," Snape insisted, but he still didn't look up. "They have not yet consummated their--"

"Their what? A union between their kind and ours? Has he embraced the dark? Has he renounced the Ministry? Will he still stand by Draco when the world turns against--"

"He already has," Severus said.

Lucius moved in a blur, wrapping his hand around Severus' throat and pushing him against the wall. Draco felt Harry tense as if to speak and put his fingertips on his lips, shaking his head. Not only was this between his master and his father, but for the first time in his life, he didn't want his father's attention.

"If anyone but you told me this," Lucius whispered, "anyone but you, Severus, I would not believe it."

Severus met his look without flinching. "But I am telling you."

Lucius stared as if challenging him to recant. Severus met his look. Neither moved for several seconds. Then Snape's hand came up and lightly touched Lucius' wrist.

"You promised," he whispered.

At first Lucius didn't move. His anger still burned and wanted to lash out at the man he'd entrusted his son to. But Severus didn't try to force him to let go and soon Lucius' hand loosened, withdrawing enough to linger over the faint marks he'd made on his pale skin. Lucius exhaled, nodded once and let his hand fall.

"I did." He glared over his shoulder at the two boys on the floor. "This is not over," he said, "but there are more important matters at hand."

"Marginally," Snape said, his customary disdain back in place as if nothing had happened. He looked at Harry. "You said you had an idea?"

"I might," Harry said, reaching into his robe's pocket. "If the water didn't destroy it. Hermione said the water ate magic--"

"'Ate magic'?" Severus whispered, looking to Draco for confirmation. He sighed and stared at the water as if he could simply will it away. "And my workshop is completely submerged. I'm sorry, Lucius. My potions will be of no use now."

Draco bit his lip. He hated to mention it after the fight, but he had to know. "Sev', the grimoire was in your office."

Lucius winced and lowered his head. "Then it is lost," he whispered.

"No," Snape said, touching his shoulder. "It was in my workshop, but the box I put it in is waterproof."

"But any spells would be destroyed--"

"Ah, not that kind of waterproof," Snape said, surprising Draco by lowering his eyes in--embarassment? "It was a muggle box."

A soft smile of realization graced Lucius lips and he reached up, touching Severus' hair not so much to brush it from his eyes but more in simple fondness. "Old habits, I suppose."

"Found it," Harry interrupted, drawing out what Draco recognized as his map of the school. Waterlogged and stuck together, it fell open before Harry could swear he was up to no good, hanging limp in his hands. He winced and spread it out, gingerly unfolding it on the floor.

At first Draco didn't see anything besides wet ink smearing across the paper, but after a moment he made out faint footprints inside the halls. They flickered in and out of view and the names were even harder to read.

"There's Sprout and Flitwick," Harry said, pointing at two marks that faded out of view before another one flashed in front of them. "And Fenrir?"

Lucius knelt beside Draco and read over his shoulder. "Yes, here they are," he said, hovering his hand over the great hall where dozens of footprints turned the paper black so that it was impossible to make out names. "Looks like they've rounded up several students, too."

"But where are the dark children?" Draco asked. He'd never realized Hogwarts was so big. It was impossible to look over the whole map, especially while its drained magic faded in and out, but he finally spotted a mass of footprints inside one small room. "There! Goyle and Weasley!"

"The Room of Requirement," Snape said. "That must be where McGonagall took everyone."

"And there's Hermione," Harry said, pointing at the kitchen. "Weird. They're haven't gone anywhere."

"There may be death eaters nearby and we simply can't see them," Lucius murmured. "Strange. I left my knights near the library."

All of them looked at the spot he pointed at, but the library looked empty.

"They may still be there," Severus said. "We may simply not be able to see what's happening."

"Then we'll go there first," Lucius said, rising. "Draco--"

"I can't go with you," Draco said, forcing himself to keep going when his father gave him a look. "We can't risk Ha--Potter in the middle of a fight between dark wizards. And I won't abandon my Slytherins."

Lucius opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it and nodded once. "You'll be safer away from the fighting, true. And the heir of the Malfoy lineage must not take unnecessary risks."

His gaze flicked towards Harry for a moment before settling back on Draco. "This discussion is not over."

"No," Draco agreed. "It's not."

Lucius took a breath and stared at him. "Get out of here and keep going," he said. "You're our only child. You can't risk your life in this battle."

"I understand," Draco said, but understanding didn't mean agreement and they both knew it. "Father, don't die."

Stupid for a dark child to demand of a parent, but he couldn't help asking.

Despite himself, Lucius smiled. "We will see you when this is all over. Be sure you live to see the end of it."

After an awkward pause, Severus and Lucius both turned and walked down the hall, disappearing in the darkness. Draco let out a breath and closed his eyes, resting his head on Harry's.

"Is he going to try to kill me?" Harry asked.

"I don't know." The thought made him nauseous and not just because he didn't want to imagine Harry dead. If his father truly intended to murder Harry, Draco knew he wouldn't be able to live with the consequences. Not when saving Harry would mean killing Lucius. Two outcomes, both impossible to live with. So he had to make sure neither of them came to pass.

"We're closer to the kitchens," he said, turning his mind to happier thoughts of war. "But the Slytherin entrance is underwater."

"We can use the Gryffindor entrance," Harry said. "It's in the hall with all the paintings of food."

Draco nodded once, remembering the painting he'd seen the first time he met Harry in the kitchen. He just hoped they didn't meet anyone on the way. He stood up and extended his hand, helping Harry to his feet.

"You've got that charm I gave you, right?"

"The honey amulet?" Harry asked, touching the vial beneath his shirt.

"No, the one that protects you from dark magic," Draco said. "The coin?"

"Oh, that." Harry reached into his pocket and pulled it out, the metal and leather cord dripping in his hand. "But it was in the water. How could the magic have survived?"

"The same way we could transform in the water," Draco answered. "Blood. Keep it with you."

Wands drawn, they headed up and out of the dungeons, listening for any footsteps before they turned the corner and walked back into the castle. Worse than screams or spells crackling through the air was the silence broken only by their soft breathing. Was everyone dead and the fighting all over?

"Some war," Harry muttered. "I can't even hear anything."

"Don't say that like it's a good thing," Draco whispered. "Nothing worse than a savior who's late to the party."

They reached the hallway without any problems, and Draco raised an eyebrow at the way Gryffindors snuck into the kitchen. He wondered if every house had its own particular entrance because there was no way any self-respecting Slytherin would fondle fruit just for a snack.

As the painting swung back, he let out a sigh of relief that they had arrived unseen, but it turned into a gasp as he grabbed Harry's waist and yanked him sideways, barely missing a red colored spell that exploded on the opposite wall. Harry's own spell--secsemra or something, Draco didn't hear it clearly--flashed into the kitchen, knocking the death eater into a row of pots and pans with a spray of blood that startled both of them.

Getting back to his feet, he followed Harry inside and closed the painting again, scanning the kitchen to make sure there were no more death eaters. They only heard silence and the lapping of water against the trapdoor.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered.

The body lay nearly in half, cut from face to waist and bubbling blood up from the middle. He nudged its side with his foot and the two halves of the head split open like a flower.

"A spell I learned last year," Harry murmured, standing next to him. "Hadn't had a chance to try it out 'till now."

Draco opened his mouth to scold him from using an untried spell, then figured it was no use. As Snape had proved time and time again, they simply could not scold a Gryffindor into acting like a sensible Slytherin.

"They don't teach spells like that here," he said. "Where'd you learn it?"

No response. He glanced at Harry and found him staring at the body in morbid fascination, half-turned as if he wanted to look away but couldn’t bring himself to move. Blood still gushed from the monstrous gash in a widening pool that reflected their faces. Harry swallowed reflexively.

Tilting his head, Draco took a small step toward him and touched his cheek, turning his face towards him. Harry's eyes stayed on the body.

"Are you all right?"

A pause.

Harry opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "I don't..."

Draco frowned. He recognized the stunned look on Harry's face, but he was surprised to see it. He knew Harry had seen Cedric Diggory die, had fought with Death Eaters and even faced Fenrir. Harry shouldn't look like a child seeing his first dead body.

"You've been in fights before," Draco said softly. "You've seen death."

"It wasn't like this," Harry said. "I didn't..."

"You never killed someone," Draco said, understanding. No wonder. Facing death was easier when other people did the killing.

"Well, there was Quirrel, but that wasn't really--so much blood." Harry's voice dwindled as the blood began to slow, the last few drops sending ripples across the floor.

Living with the memories of hundreds of dying wizards and witches inured dark children against death early on. Their memories were so full of death that by the time they made their first kill, they felt like they were joining in a family tradition. Their hands were covered in blood long before they took a life.

Not so for light wizards. Their parents had the luxury of shielding children from death. For a moment Draco wondered what growing up was like without screams echoing in his ears, without the images of mangled or burned corpses still contorted with fear or rage.

But dark children grew up knowing how to kill. In a world that wanted them all dead, sometimes children had to kill the light wizards who'd killed their parents. Until that stopped, he would rather grow up with hellish reality than live in a heavenly illusion.

"It's messy," Draco agreed, "but it was quick. Quicker than he would've given you."

"I'm not using that spell again," Harry said, finally turning from the body. "It must be dark. It even felt heavier."

"It probably is," Draco said. Anything to steer the conversation away from the body. "Where'd you learn it?"

"A school potions book. But it's got all these notes inside, some of it about strange spells. Whoever wrote it was a real genius." He almost glanced at the body again but stopped himself. "A vicious genius."

"He didn't leave a name?"

"Just called himself the half-blood prince."

Draco's eyes widened.

Of course.

How could he have been so stupid?

He'd always known Snape's mother's name. Pureblood genealogy was simply one more facet of his education. But names missing from pureblood tapestries were also common in every family, only remembered insofar as crossbreeding might affect later generations. Snape's own father hadn't been blotted out of the books because he'd never been written in the first place. Draco had long assumed he'd been disgraced, but perhaps Snape's mother had been one of the handful of purebloods who fell in love with a muggle before realizing their mistake and retreating back into the family.

No wonder Snape knew so much about muggles. He frowned. But if Severus was a mudblood, why would Lucius take him in like he had?

"Draco?" Harry narrowed his eyes in thought. "Do you recognize that name? You do, don't you? You know who he is."

"I think I do," Draco said softly.

"Who--?"

Draco shook his head before Harry could finish. "No, I can't. It's not my secret to tell."

Harry sighed and looked ready to argue, but one of the cabinets on the far side of the kitchen clattered open and a blur of bushy hair stumbled out with a squeak. Draco raised his wand in a panic, but Harry grabbed his wrist and forced it to point at the floor.

"Potter--!" Draco snapped.

"Don't hex her," Harry said. "It's Hermione."

He had planned on something stronger than a hex, but Draco kept that to himself, rubbing his wrist when Harry let go. Big dumb Gryffindor didn't know his own strength.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, walking over and extending his hand to help her.

"She's bloody fine," came another voice from deeper inside the cabinet. "She wasn't the one almost torn in half."

"Pansy!" Draco rushed over and flung open the cabinet doors.

Curled up tight in Theo's lap, Pansy winced as the light hit her. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, revealing a stretch of bare skin under her torn and soaked robes. He grimaced. The squid's circular suckers had twisted into her, leaving deep messy bites when it yanked at her body.

"You've been sitting like this the whole time?" he asked, glaring at Theo as if it was his fault.

"The water splashed all over us when the squid attacked," Theo said. "Drenched our wands. I don't know how I managed to cast the spells at it, but after the last one, I couldn't cast any more."

"We were soaked helping them up," Hermione said. "We couldn't heal her and then we heard someone come in--" She spotted the corpse and her voice died in her throat.

Behind them, satisfied that it was safe, Vincent poked his head out from one of the bottom cupboards. Both May and Daphne peered over his shoulders. As they clambered out, Draco knelt by Pansy accio'd one of the dish rags, using it to dry off the gouges. He grimaced. Not only were they ugly, but he felt dark magic pulsing around the wounds, the magic that affected the squid now lingering in her body.

"This'll hurt," he warned her.

Both of them knew the cuts were too deep to merely flick away, and dark magic was not designed for the caster's comfort. Even their healing spells exacted a price. There would be pain, but more importantly, silencio didn't work on sirens or anyone with their blood.

She nodded once and shut her eyes. "I won't scream," she promised, reaching for Theo's hand. Instead of holding it for reassurance, she brought his palm up to her mouth, covering her lips.

With one last look to make sure she was ready, Draco cast sticenia on her injuries.

Pansy's skin crawled, the ragged edges of each wound twisting and knitting across mangled flesh with a wet sound. Fresh blood drenched her robes and black wisps of magic bled out as well. She stiffened in Theo's arms, her gasps and whimpers muffled behind his hand clenched firmly around her mouth. Her fingernails scraped the wooden shelves.

The skin finished stitching itself together with little bits of red tissue still visible between the thin threads of flesh. Theo's hand turned damp with her tears, but he didn't let go. Draco took a deep breath to steady himself. The pain wasn't his, but it made him shake anyway.

"Haean," he said, starting the second part of the spell.

The stitched skin slowly filled in, regrowing what had been lost. Pansy's whimpers turned shrill and her fingers turned white around Theo's wrist until finally the squid's attack was completely erased from her body. She went limp, her head lolling back on Theo's shoulder.

"Is she breathing?" Draco asked.

Theo put his ear to her lips, then nodded once. "She'll be fine once the shock wears off."

"'Shock'?" Hermione echoed, her eyes wide in horror. "What was that?"

"Dark magic," Draco said, stepping back so that May and Daphne could help maneuver Pansy out of the cabinet, laying her on the floor with her head in one of their laps. Vincent came up beside him, drying off his wand on a dish rag and trying a lumos spell. The tip of the wand glowed, flickered a few times, then glowed a little stronger.

"It'll take awhile before they're back to normal," Draco said. "Was it just that one death eater you heard?"

Vincent shook his head. "We heard a few running around outside. Don't know how he got inside. Then it was real quiet, except he was rummaging around looking for us. What do we do now?"

Everyone looked at Draco except Hermione, who looked at Harry only to frown when he also looked at Draco expectantly. He had a feeling Harry just wanted to hear his idea first before deciding to charge off on his own.

"The Slytherins and Gryffindors are in the Room of Requirement," he said. "We'll go there first and decide what to do next."

"Draco, I have to--" Harry started.

"You're coming with us," Draco cut him off. "If you go running around by yourself, you'll be outnumbered. With all the dark lord's followers here--"

"All the death eaters are here?" Hermione asked. "Is Voldemort here, too?"

"Probably," Draco said.

"So's Draco's father and the Knights of Walpurgis," Harry said.

Draco winced but didn't say anything. Trust Harry to blurt it out. Hopefully none of them would get caught and interrogated.

"And they'll help us fight Voldemort?" she asked.

"Sure," Draco said. "But what they do afterward is anyone's guess."

"What do you mean?"

"He means," Theo broke in, "that they're our parents. Dark wizards who don't care much for the ministry. Hell, if the aurors get here soon enough, they might even sit back and let them fight it out with the dark lord and then kill off anyone who survives."

There was also no way of knowing if they'd attack Harry on sight. Draco bit his lip. They might even attack him, too. A little wayward wizard spilling dark secrets might be considered as much a traitor as a Weasley, even if he was just trying to survive.

"I know you don't want me to go," Harry tried again. "But Voldemort's going to be looking for me--"

"He might think you're already dead," Draco said. "That you drowned with me or you died when Gryffindor fell off."

"It fell off?" Vincent sniggered, but there was no humor in his voice. "You mean it really came true, then? We flooded and they fell off."

"Everyone's alright," Harry hurried to tell Hermoine, although she didn't look too comforted. "They're in the Room of Requirement. We just need to get up there."

Up to the seventh floor, and every floor could be filled with death eaters if they didn't stumble upon the dark lord himself. No one spoke for a moment. Then May picked up Pansy, holding her in her arms and standing with a little help from Daphne.

"Let's go while it's still clear," she said.

Draco put his hand on Harry's shoulder to forestall another argument. "I can't get them all to the Room of Requirement by myself," he said. "If you don't help, I don't know that we'll all survive."

A cheap ploy, using Harry's concern against him, but Draco was hardly above manipulation. With a grumbling sigh, Harry nodded once and headed for the door.

Using Harry as a shield, Draco kept step behind the Gryffindor as they started out, peeking over his shoulder down the hall. Harry reached back and found Draco's hand, gripping it tightly before they ventured out. The others followed single file with Vincent and Theo bringing up the rear.

"Go right," Draco whispered when they came to a corner. "There's another way up so we don't have to use the main stairs."

Long weeks of lurking in the shadows away from the students paid off as Draco guided them through the halls grown dusty from disuse. Cold wind blew out from under the doors they passed as if something breathed behind them, and even the dark children would have preferred to fight death eaters than to go inside rooms where the windows had turned black on the inside.

"Why are there places like this in Hogwarts?" Hermione whispered behind him. "They feel like they've gone bad."

"Didn't you know?" he whispered back. "Human sacrifices. Even muggles did it to keep their bridges from falling down. I'll tell you about it someday when we're not trying to avoid being killed by death eaters."

He all but spit that last part out, and to his relief she didn't ask anything else.

On the fifth floor, their luck gave out.

Harry came to an abrupt halt, causing Draco to bump into him and Hermione to bump into him before the rest of them noticed. Shooting a glare at Granger, Draco stood on his toes for a good look over Harry's shoulder, but whatever he'd seen lay around a corner.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"Death eaters," Harry whispered back, his face pale. "Five of them. And--Flitwick and Sprout."

Understanding what Harry left unsaid, Draco breathed out and swallowed once. The first casualties, then. Or at least the first casualties that he knew about. For all he knew, all of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students might be dead. And while he didn't know Sprout's combat ability, he knew Flitwick would've been able to defend himself fairly well. This would not be an easy fight. He didn't want to face so many death eaters, at least not without a broom and a blinding blizzard.

He blinked. Well, he didn't have a blizzard, but a broom he might be able to swing.

"Think you could accio your broom?" he whispered.

Harry stared at him in surprise before considering it. "I guess. Fred and George did that once. But why? We can't fly us all out of here."

"We're not going to. But if we can distract them, even kill a couple and get them to follow us, then everyone else can make a run for the Room of Requirement."

He knew Theo and Vincent wouldn't be able to summon their brooms with their wands still recovering from the flood. Everyone else's brooms were either underwater or crushed under rubble. Only Harry's and his own were safe under lock and key in their quidditch changing rooms.

"See?" Harry whispered. "You really are brave."

"No," Draco argued. "Just more afraid of not doing anything and dying."

Moving in synch with Harry, he raised his wand and summoned his besom. He glanced over his shoulder and whispered for everyone to get ready to run, and Theo cast a weak charm on Pansy so that she didn't weigh as much in May's arms.

Around the corner, the nearest window exploded in with shards of glass spinning like knives around the two brooms. The death eaters yelled and ducked, letting them zoom overhead. Draco had enough time to kick himself for thinking they would come in through a door and zip through the halls before the besom was in front of him. Mounting it as he had during the quidditch game, flat along its handle, he threw one last look at his friends and wondered if he would see them again.

Flying just behind Harry, he came around the corner and found four of the death eaters coming towards them, wands raised. No new recruits, these were hardened veterans of the last conflict. He recognized his aunt's black hair and her dark eyes behind her mask, and beside her stood Fenrir, his massive bulk easy to spot. Behind them, the bodies of his two teachers and three more death eaters. At least the professors hadn't gone without a fight.

His besom jerked left around a hurled crucio and he cast a quick athama spell at Fenrir. The werewolf deflected it, but his aim was poor and it flew into the face of the smaller death eater beside him. Her body jerked in surprise before the top half of her head slid free, following the line of Draco's cut as it fell to the floor.

Draco reached the end of the hall and pulled his besom up short just before he crashed into the wall. Harry stopped next to him, breathing hard. His own target lay on the ground writhing in pain from a furnunculus curse so strong that it left him disfigured and blinded, but despite how powerful Harry's curse was, it lacked the visceral impact of a dead and mutilated death eater whose halved mask showed that she was just as young as they were.

"Blood traitor!" Bellatrix screamed, aiming two more hexes at him and shrieking as they each missed.

"Mordred and Morgan!" he yelled back before he realized what he was saying. Although he'd never set foot on the ancient battlefield of Camlann, his blood knew and remembered the warcry of Mordred's army, hurling it back faithfully from a thousand years. After all this time, Malfoy blood reaffirmed its loyalty to the darkness.

He had enough time to cast spiora, sending a thousand ugly black spiders charging out of his wand and across the floor at his enemies, before turning and flying down the hall. If they thought he was trying to cover his escape, they would give chase and never notice the Slytherins waiting just around the corner. So far so good, he thought, turning to say as much.

Harry flew ashen-faced beside him, but before Draco could ask him anything, they both heard an enraged snarl so loud that it rattled the windows. Pausing and looking back, they saw Fenrir stumble around the corner, his body covered in black spiders as he smashed a glass vial on the floor. His skin ripped and tore around thick tufts of fur, splitting his robe and leaving a giant wolf standing on two legs. With paws as big as his head and claws like fingers, Fenrir shook the spiders off of himself and roared once more before lunging forward, fangs glistening in the torchlight.

TBC...

Author's Notes:
1. sticenia -- from the Old English stice, to stitch/sting
2. athama -- from the Old French attame, to cut or pierce
3. spiora -- Old English spiora, spider