His Soldier
Title: His Soldier
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,000
Warnings: Suggestions of violence, death, Remus and Moody bashing *is sorry* Dark!Harry
Summary: I don't take orders from you
Author's Notes: I...don't know where this came from. This is the sort of thing that happens when I don't get my regular dose of BAMF!Harry. Please excuse the mediocrity and general loop-holiness of this drablet, I have no clue what happened here.
Draco sat stiffly under the glaring lights, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his head. It wasn’t easy. His last mission had taken it completely out of him. There was a gash in his side and the tell-tale trickle of blood was unnerving. By all rights, he should have been in the infirmary with Granger hovering over him.
But that was a luxury he was not going to be permitted. Not if the bloody Order had anything to say about it.
“You killed Yaxley,” Remus Lupin declared stiffly. It wasn’t a question.
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Yes,” he replied.
Lupin’s eye twitched. “We gave that man asylum. And you killed him.”
Draco looked him directly in the eye. “I’m aware,” he drawled. “I got him to tell me everything we needed to know before I took him out.”
Moody sneered, his face twisting with the movement. “Did you then? How very kind of you to have at least a shred of control over your actions.”
Draco chose silence. They wouldn’t listen to him anyway. The Order was an old-school lot who held on stubbornly to their honour-in-battle and kill-only-for-self-defence notions. It was astounding how they managed it, in the face of everything they’d seen.
Draco was a lot more pragmatic. He’d seen Yaxley kill a five year old girl once- before he had made the decision to turn deserter and flee the Death Eater ranks. He still heard her screams in his nightmares. Draco’s jaw clenched. Some things were not negotiable. There were acts that demanded swift retribution and if death was the only coin he had, then so be it.
“He deserved to die,” he said finally. “And I didn’t mind getting my hands dirty.” The underlying insinuation that the rest of them did remained unspoken but if Moody’s rapidly purpling countenance was anything go by, they got the hint.
Lupin stood up abruptly, his eyes flashing. He stalked over to Draco, bearing down on him. The shadow of the wolf lurked behind his eyes. “You don’t just take a man’s life, Malfoy. That’s not the way we work.”
“No,” Draco smirked. “Apparently, you give sanctuary to mass murderers and wait around, hoping that they’ll divulge a snip of information that we could have in half the time with a few Crucios.”
Lupin shuddered visibly. “You used the Cruciatus Curse?” he whispered.
Draco’s dark grin was all the answer he needed. He backed away, revulsion written across his sallow features. “You’re repulsive.”
“And you’re a fool,” Draco drawled. “The lot of you. Fighting murderers with stunning curses and smoke potions. Forgive me for having the sense to kill when the occasion calls for it.”
“The occasion never calls for it!” Moody snarled. “There is honour in the way we do battle, Malfoy! When we took you in, it was with the understanding that you would conduct yourself with that in mind!”
Draco met his eyes steadily. “When I joined the Order, it was with the understanding that you were trying to stop a madman from taking over the magical world. Not holding him off with a shielding charm.”
“Killing someone on the battlefield is permissible,” Lupin gritted for the hundredth time. He was starting to sound like a parrot. “Killing a man under sanctuary is sacrilege.”
“Spare me the speech, Lupin,” Draco sneered. “Death is death. Yaxley was a murdering fuck. I killed him and the world is better off for it.”
They glared at him in mutinous silence and Draco felt anger flare in his gut.
“Don’t you understand what’s happening?” He could barely hear his own voice, the blood was rushing to his ears, drowning it out . “The Dark Lord is growing stronger every day. Death Eaters walking the streets, killing in hundreds, entire muggle districts bombed into oblivion. They’re gathering resources, making new alliances, taking over the bloody Ministry. What the hell do you have? Try taking down Bellatrix Lestrange with nothing but honour and ideals and see what fucking happens!”
“We’re not going to turn into them!” Moody raged.
“Then you’ll die and take us all down with you,” Draco hissed back. He stiffened as a wand dug into his throat. A vein was throbbing in Moody’s temple as he trained his weapon at Draco. The blond grit his teeth against the throbbing pain, but forced himself to stand anyway.
“Stay down, Malfoy,” Moody warned.
Draco sneered. “I don’t take orders from you.”
Moody snarled and prodded his wand deeper into Draco’s skin. “You arrogant, little…”
“Enough.”
Draco stiffened instinctively before turning to find the source of the intrusion. Jade green eyes bore into him, quickly assessing the situation. Potter’s eyes flicked to the wound in Draco’s side and his gaze hardened. “How bad?” he asked.
“He used a Relashio,” Draco answered briskly. “A surface wound,” he hastened to add as Potter’s eyes flashed. The man relaxed visibly, but his eyes still roved Draco’s slim frame; apparently checking him over for other injuries. Draco smirked; rather enjoying Moody and Lupin’s appalled expressions. Potter didn’t notice. His entire attention was on Draco. “Poison?” he asked.
“Crucio,” Draco replied. “I had limited access to the Potions Lab so I…improvised.”
Potter lips quirked with the hint of a smirk. “Good.”
“Harry…” Lupin sounded shocked. Draco allowed himself a moment to gloat.
Potter fixed Lupin with a cold, hard look. “He killed a child, Remus. He had to die. I don’t expect you to understand.”
Lupin blinked rapidly, looking at the two of them with something that bordered on fear. “Albus wouldn’t have…”
“Albus is dead,” Potter replied smoothly. “Voldemort isn’t. I intend to change that.”
“At least someone does.” Draco simply had to say it.
He was vaguely aware of Potter raising an eyebrow at him. Without even looking at him, Draco could tell that the man’s eyes were sparking with dry amusement. Potter shook his head and turned, starting to leave.
“Walk with me soldier,” he ordered. “We have much to discuss.”
Draco obeyed without preamble, following Potter as he swept out of the room. But he couldn’t resist turning back and giving Moody his most sardonic smirk. “I don’t take orders from you.”
And then he turned and left, following the sound of Potter’s fading footsteps.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,000
Warnings: Suggestions of violence, death, Remus and Moody bashing *is sorry* Dark!Harry
Summary: I don't take orders from you
Author's Notes: I...don't know where this came from. This is the sort of thing that happens when I don't get my regular dose of BAMF!Harry. Please excuse the mediocrity and general loop-holiness of this drablet, I have no clue what happened here.
Draco sat stiffly under the glaring lights, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his head. It wasn’t easy. His last mission had taken it completely out of him. There was a gash in his side and the tell-tale trickle of blood was unnerving. By all rights, he should have been in the infirmary with Granger hovering over him.
But that was a luxury he was not going to be permitted. Not if the bloody Order had anything to say about it.
“You killed Yaxley,” Remus Lupin declared stiffly. It wasn’t a question.
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Yes,” he replied.
Lupin’s eye twitched. “We gave that man asylum. And you killed him.”
Draco looked him directly in the eye. “I’m aware,” he drawled. “I got him to tell me everything we needed to know before I took him out.”
Moody sneered, his face twisting with the movement. “Did you then? How very kind of you to have at least a shred of control over your actions.”
Draco chose silence. They wouldn’t listen to him anyway. The Order was an old-school lot who held on stubbornly to their honour-in-battle and kill-only-for-self-defence notions. It was astounding how they managed it, in the face of everything they’d seen.
Draco was a lot more pragmatic. He’d seen Yaxley kill a five year old girl once- before he had made the decision to turn deserter and flee the Death Eater ranks. He still heard her screams in his nightmares. Draco’s jaw clenched. Some things were not negotiable. There were acts that demanded swift retribution and if death was the only coin he had, then so be it.
“He deserved to die,” he said finally. “And I didn’t mind getting my hands dirty.” The underlying insinuation that the rest of them did remained unspoken but if Moody’s rapidly purpling countenance was anything go by, they got the hint.
Lupin stood up abruptly, his eyes flashing. He stalked over to Draco, bearing down on him. The shadow of the wolf lurked behind his eyes. “You don’t just take a man’s life, Malfoy. That’s not the way we work.”
“No,” Draco smirked. “Apparently, you give sanctuary to mass murderers and wait around, hoping that they’ll divulge a snip of information that we could have in half the time with a few Crucios.”
Lupin shuddered visibly. “You used the Cruciatus Curse?” he whispered.
Draco’s dark grin was all the answer he needed. He backed away, revulsion written across his sallow features. “You’re repulsive.”
“And you’re a fool,” Draco drawled. “The lot of you. Fighting murderers with stunning curses and smoke potions. Forgive me for having the sense to kill when the occasion calls for it.”
“The occasion never calls for it!” Moody snarled. “There is honour in the way we do battle, Malfoy! When we took you in, it was with the understanding that you would conduct yourself with that in mind!”
Draco met his eyes steadily. “When I joined the Order, it was with the understanding that you were trying to stop a madman from taking over the magical world. Not holding him off with a shielding charm.”
“Killing someone on the battlefield is permissible,” Lupin gritted for the hundredth time. He was starting to sound like a parrot. “Killing a man under sanctuary is sacrilege.”
“Spare me the speech, Lupin,” Draco sneered. “Death is death. Yaxley was a murdering fuck. I killed him and the world is better off for it.”
They glared at him in mutinous silence and Draco felt anger flare in his gut.
“Don’t you understand what’s happening?” He could barely hear his own voice, the blood was rushing to his ears, drowning it out . “The Dark Lord is growing stronger every day. Death Eaters walking the streets, killing in hundreds, entire muggle districts bombed into oblivion. They’re gathering resources, making new alliances, taking over the bloody Ministry. What the hell do you have? Try taking down Bellatrix Lestrange with nothing but honour and ideals and see what fucking happens!”
“We’re not going to turn into them!” Moody raged.
“Then you’ll die and take us all down with you,” Draco hissed back. He stiffened as a wand dug into his throat. A vein was throbbing in Moody’s temple as he trained his weapon at Draco. The blond grit his teeth against the throbbing pain, but forced himself to stand anyway.
“Stay down, Malfoy,” Moody warned.
Draco sneered. “I don’t take orders from you.”
Moody snarled and prodded his wand deeper into Draco’s skin. “You arrogant, little…”
“Enough.”
Draco stiffened instinctively before turning to find the source of the intrusion. Jade green eyes bore into him, quickly assessing the situation. Potter’s eyes flicked to the wound in Draco’s side and his gaze hardened. “How bad?” he asked.
“He used a Relashio,” Draco answered briskly. “A surface wound,” he hastened to add as Potter’s eyes flashed. The man relaxed visibly, but his eyes still roved Draco’s slim frame; apparently checking him over for other injuries. Draco smirked; rather enjoying Moody and Lupin’s appalled expressions. Potter didn’t notice. His entire attention was on Draco. “Poison?” he asked.
“Crucio,” Draco replied. “I had limited access to the Potions Lab so I…improvised.”
Potter lips quirked with the hint of a smirk. “Good.”
“Harry…” Lupin sounded shocked. Draco allowed himself a moment to gloat.
Potter fixed Lupin with a cold, hard look. “He killed a child, Remus. He had to die. I don’t expect you to understand.”
Lupin blinked rapidly, looking at the two of them with something that bordered on fear. “Albus wouldn’t have…”
“Albus is dead,” Potter replied smoothly. “Voldemort isn’t. I intend to change that.”
“At least someone does.” Draco simply had to say it.
He was vaguely aware of Potter raising an eyebrow at him. Without even looking at him, Draco could tell that the man’s eyes were sparking with dry amusement. Potter shook his head and turned, starting to leave.
“Walk with me soldier,” he ordered. “We have much to discuss.”
Draco obeyed without preamble, following Potter as he swept out of the room. But he couldn’t resist turning back and giving Moody his most sardonic smirk. “I don’t take orders from you.”
And then he turned and left, following the sound of Potter’s fading footsteps.