These Things - Chapter Four
Title: These Things
By: Lady DeathAngel
RATING:M
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Not mine, not profiting, 'nuff said.
Genre: romance, drama
Pairings: HP/DM
Warnings: language, slash
A/N: This is my first HP/DM fic ever. I still don't quite know where I'm going with it, but I haven't given up on it. Um, hope ya'll like it! Also, it's pre-HBP and is now happily AU.
Summary: Sometimes these things happen. Granted, no one expected Death Eaters to attack Harry at Hogwarts and Draco definitely didn't expect to save him. But . . . these things do happen.
Draco was seriously starting to doubt Potter’s sanity. Because the prat didn’t even have the grace to look scared. No, he looked fucking relieved. He didn’t have the right to be relieved. Didn’t he know he was facing a Death Eater? Didn’t he know that the man scowling down at them was probably jumping up and down inside his greasy body at the knowledge that he had been the one to capture Harry Potter and he would be the one to hand deliver him to the Dark Lord? Didn’t he know he was thisclose to dying?!
Apparently not because Potter was gazing at Severus Snape like he was Father Christmas and had just told him he was at the top of the ‘nice’ list.
"Potter, Malfoy . . . follow me and be quick about it," Snape ordered, turning and making his way toward the end of the tunnel that would lead them, finally, out of Hogwarts.
Potter nodded and moved to follow him. What kind of stupid . . .
"What do you think you’re doing?" Draco hissed, grabbing Potter by the wrist.
"Ouch!" the other boy said with a disdainful glare.
"I’m serious! Don’t you know what Snape is?"
Potter wrenched his arm away and walked backwards after their professor.
"Yes. But apparently you don’t."
"What," Draco started, following him. "Are you talking about? That man’s a Death Eater. Like my father. Hell, they had tea together all the time when I was little. Got matching Dark Marks and everything. He’ll kill you, and while I don’t want to do it, I’ll have to save your arse again and then I’ll be dead and this is just not my fucking night."
"Quiet!" Snape barked.
Potter rolled his eyes.
"He’s not a Death Eater," he said in a soft tone. "I mean . . . he is but he’s not really. He’s the spy."
He didn’t need to elaborate. Draco almost stopped cold in his steps but figured that would be even more counter-productive than everything else he’d done in the last three minutes. He settled for gaping at Potter who simply raised his eyebrows and then turned on one heel. Of course Draco knew about the spy. Everyone who was close enough to You-Know-Who’s supporters knew about him, but no one knew who it was. It was rumored that the Dark Lord did and had a very painful death planned for him at some time in the near or far future, but no one else was privy to that information. Except, perhaps, Peter Pettigrew, another character with a story so far-fetched it made little sense, someone that to this day was considered no more substantial than a fairy tale in some circles.
Of course, Lucius had seen him, had told Draco his story. How he was one of the lucky faithful, how he was a stupid coward, how he was lower, even, than Mudbloods and Muggles and half-bloods but had gained You-Know-Who’s favor for being a sniveling coward. Lucius put a lot of stock into loyalty, while it may not have seemed that way. He was a bit of a hypocrite in fact, but he had no respect for Pettigrew who didn’t know where his loyalties were. Who only lived to serve himself but was lucky enough to make it through life successfully that way.
Draco thought Pettigrew sounded like the most pathetic of humans and felt almost sorry for the friends he betrayed in his weakness.
The trio finally made it out into the cold night and Draco and Potter followed Snape all the way to Hagrid’s hut, wading through knee-deep snowdrifts along the way.
The night, Draco noted as they walked, was deceptively peaceful. And it would be Christmas in a few hours as well . . . too bad he couldn’t enjoy the moon hanging near full in the sky or the fact that the holidays would be at their zenith in a matter of hours. Instead he was doing decidedly un-Draco things like saving Potters and he was unearthing secrets that other Death Eaters would torture him for, like the fact that Snape was the renowned spy.
If he made it out of this particular situation alive, he realized bleakly, he was so, so fucked.
"Hagrid’s not here," Harry said softly as they entered the half-blood’s home through the backdoor.
"He’s up at the castle," Snape said shortly, rummaging through his pockets and pulling out several vials and a regal looking phoenix made of glass and small enough to fit in his palm comfortably.
"What’s going on up there?" Draco asked, staring as the phoenix stretched a wing and trilled a mute song.
"You’ll be briefed on that later."
He looked away from the figurine and frowned at the taller man.
"But . . . is everyone okay?"
Snape was silent and it was enough to cause both him and Potter to panic.
"Who’s hurt?"
" Is anyone dead?"
"Calm down. Yes, there are some injured students, Miss Granger and Miss Parkinson among them, but there have been no casualties up to this point."
Both boys blanched and Snape took their silence as an opportunity to explain a bit of the situation to them.
"I need you two to listen to me, are you listening?"
They nodded, Draco’s head feeling as if it weighed ten pounds more than usual.
"I’m going to cast a charm on you both that will make you untraceable and give you each a potion. Draco, you will be bound to myself. Potter, you’ll be bound to Remus Lupin. You are going to take this phoenix, Potter, you will need to tap it with your wand and say ‘Fawkes’. That will activate the portkey and you will both be transported to Remus Lupin’s home. It’s quite a ways from here and unplottable which makes it ideal. You will both stay there until either myself or Lupin come to fetch you. If we don’t seem ourselves, if anything seems strange at all, you have our express permission to restrain us with whatever means necessary and get the hell away from there. If that happens, Potter, your best bet is to head to Number 12 Grimmauld place. There’s a vehicle in Lupin’s garage that’ll know the way."
They both stared at him as he finished, Draco not quite sure this was real. God, it seemed so much like a surreal dream. One of those strangely realistic dreams he had too often now, the kind that blanketed him in a strange reality that was so much better than the one he would wake up to. But then, this wasn’t much better than his reality had been just three hours ago, so he supposed it was real enough.
"Any questions?"
Draco and Potter shared a look before shaking their heads. Snape nodded and then gestured to the vials.
"Those potions will bind you to us," he said. "That way we’ll be alerted to any danger you may find yourselves in. Though, both Lupin and I are counting you two to not do anything stupid that will endanger your lives."
They just took the potions that he indicated were theirs and tossed them back quickly. They were nearly tasteless, though there was a faint trace of sugar that was decidedly too sweet and stuck to the back of Draco’s throat as he swallowed. He felt a strange tug in the general vicinity of his stomach and from the look on Potter’s face, he felt it as well. But it faded rather quickly for Draco and his professor nodded, satisfied and proceeded to take out his wand. He did some rather complicated swishes and flicks and muttered a lot so quietly Draco couldn’t make out his words. He felt the older man’s magic blanket him warmly and then that sensation faded as well.
"Now, hurry and portkey out of here. I’ve got to get back to the castle."
He headed toward the door of the cottage and opened the door, prepared to step out into the snow. He stopped at the last moment and turned.
"Don’t worry about Hermione and Pansy," he said gruffly. "We’re taking care of them."
Which was his roundabout way of saying that he understood how distraught they were feeling and then he was gone in a flurry of robes and the door swung shut behind him. The only evidence that it had ever been open was a soft, belated chill that made them both shiver. Draco turned to the table the phoenix had been set on and held out his hand. The figurine hopped into his hand and Harry was suddenly beside him, pulling his wand out from his back pocket, face set in lines more calm and collected than he really was. The shaking finger he laid on the top of the glass bird’s head told Draco that he was scared or angry or anything but calm.
"You," Draco said softly, with a quick glance at Potter’s face. "Are going to have a lot of explaining to do after this."
The other boy smiled and then tapped the phoenix with his wand and muttered "Fawkes," in a low tone. A split second later, Draco felt a familiar and unwelcome tug behind his bellybutton.
By: Lady DeathAngel
RATING:M
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Not mine, not profiting, 'nuff said.
Genre: romance, drama
Pairings: HP/DM
Warnings: language, slash
A/N: This is my first HP/DM fic ever. I still don't quite know where I'm going with it, but I haven't given up on it. Um, hope ya'll like it! Also, it's pre-HBP and is now happily AU.
Summary: Sometimes these things happen. Granted, no one expected Death Eaters to attack Harry at Hogwarts and Draco definitely didn't expect to save him. But . . . these things do happen.
Draco was seriously starting to doubt Potter’s sanity. Because the prat didn’t even have the grace to look scared. No, he looked fucking relieved. He didn’t have the right to be relieved. Didn’t he know he was facing a Death Eater? Didn’t he know that the man scowling down at them was probably jumping up and down inside his greasy body at the knowledge that he had been the one to capture Harry Potter and he would be the one to hand deliver him to the Dark Lord? Didn’t he know he was thisclose to dying?!
Apparently not because Potter was gazing at Severus Snape like he was Father Christmas and had just told him he was at the top of the ‘nice’ list.
"Potter, Malfoy . . . follow me and be quick about it," Snape ordered, turning and making his way toward the end of the tunnel that would lead them, finally, out of Hogwarts.
Potter nodded and moved to follow him. What kind of stupid . . .
"What do you think you’re doing?" Draco hissed, grabbing Potter by the wrist.
"Ouch!" the other boy said with a disdainful glare.
"I’m serious! Don’t you know what Snape is?"
Potter wrenched his arm away and walked backwards after their professor.
"Yes. But apparently you don’t."
"What," Draco started, following him. "Are you talking about? That man’s a Death Eater. Like my father. Hell, they had tea together all the time when I was little. Got matching Dark Marks and everything. He’ll kill you, and while I don’t want to do it, I’ll have to save your arse again and then I’ll be dead and this is just not my fucking night."
"Quiet!" Snape barked.
Potter rolled his eyes.
"He’s not a Death Eater," he said in a soft tone. "I mean . . . he is but he’s not really. He’s the spy."
He didn’t need to elaborate. Draco almost stopped cold in his steps but figured that would be even more counter-productive than everything else he’d done in the last three minutes. He settled for gaping at Potter who simply raised his eyebrows and then turned on one heel. Of course Draco knew about the spy. Everyone who was close enough to You-Know-Who’s supporters knew about him, but no one knew who it was. It was rumored that the Dark Lord did and had a very painful death planned for him at some time in the near or far future, but no one else was privy to that information. Except, perhaps, Peter Pettigrew, another character with a story so far-fetched it made little sense, someone that to this day was considered no more substantial than a fairy tale in some circles.
Of course, Lucius had seen him, had told Draco his story. How he was one of the lucky faithful, how he was a stupid coward, how he was lower, even, than Mudbloods and Muggles and half-bloods but had gained You-Know-Who’s favor for being a sniveling coward. Lucius put a lot of stock into loyalty, while it may not have seemed that way. He was a bit of a hypocrite in fact, but he had no respect for Pettigrew who didn’t know where his loyalties were. Who only lived to serve himself but was lucky enough to make it through life successfully that way.
Draco thought Pettigrew sounded like the most pathetic of humans and felt almost sorry for the friends he betrayed in his weakness.
The trio finally made it out into the cold night and Draco and Potter followed Snape all the way to Hagrid’s hut, wading through knee-deep snowdrifts along the way.
The night, Draco noted as they walked, was deceptively peaceful. And it would be Christmas in a few hours as well . . . too bad he couldn’t enjoy the moon hanging near full in the sky or the fact that the holidays would be at their zenith in a matter of hours. Instead he was doing decidedly un-Draco things like saving Potters and he was unearthing secrets that other Death Eaters would torture him for, like the fact that Snape was the renowned spy.
If he made it out of this particular situation alive, he realized bleakly, he was so, so fucked.
"Hagrid’s not here," Harry said softly as they entered the half-blood’s home through the backdoor.
"He’s up at the castle," Snape said shortly, rummaging through his pockets and pulling out several vials and a regal looking phoenix made of glass and small enough to fit in his palm comfortably.
"What’s going on up there?" Draco asked, staring as the phoenix stretched a wing and trilled a mute song.
"You’ll be briefed on that later."
He looked away from the figurine and frowned at the taller man.
"But . . . is everyone okay?"
Snape was silent and it was enough to cause both him and Potter to panic.
"Who’s hurt?"
" Is anyone dead?"
"Calm down. Yes, there are some injured students, Miss Granger and Miss Parkinson among them, but there have been no casualties up to this point."
Both boys blanched and Snape took their silence as an opportunity to explain a bit of the situation to them.
"I need you two to listen to me, are you listening?"
They nodded, Draco’s head feeling as if it weighed ten pounds more than usual.
"I’m going to cast a charm on you both that will make you untraceable and give you each a potion. Draco, you will be bound to myself. Potter, you’ll be bound to Remus Lupin. You are going to take this phoenix, Potter, you will need to tap it with your wand and say ‘Fawkes’. That will activate the portkey and you will both be transported to Remus Lupin’s home. It’s quite a ways from here and unplottable which makes it ideal. You will both stay there until either myself or Lupin come to fetch you. If we don’t seem ourselves, if anything seems strange at all, you have our express permission to restrain us with whatever means necessary and get the hell away from there. If that happens, Potter, your best bet is to head to Number 12 Grimmauld place. There’s a vehicle in Lupin’s garage that’ll know the way."
They both stared at him as he finished, Draco not quite sure this was real. God, it seemed so much like a surreal dream. One of those strangely realistic dreams he had too often now, the kind that blanketed him in a strange reality that was so much better than the one he would wake up to. But then, this wasn’t much better than his reality had been just three hours ago, so he supposed it was real enough.
"Any questions?"
Draco and Potter shared a look before shaking their heads. Snape nodded and then gestured to the vials.
"Those potions will bind you to us," he said. "That way we’ll be alerted to any danger you may find yourselves in. Though, both Lupin and I are counting you two to not do anything stupid that will endanger your lives."
They just took the potions that he indicated were theirs and tossed them back quickly. They were nearly tasteless, though there was a faint trace of sugar that was decidedly too sweet and stuck to the back of Draco’s throat as he swallowed. He felt a strange tug in the general vicinity of his stomach and from the look on Potter’s face, he felt it as well. But it faded rather quickly for Draco and his professor nodded, satisfied and proceeded to take out his wand. He did some rather complicated swishes and flicks and muttered a lot so quietly Draco couldn’t make out his words. He felt the older man’s magic blanket him warmly and then that sensation faded as well.
"Now, hurry and portkey out of here. I’ve got to get back to the castle."
He headed toward the door of the cottage and opened the door, prepared to step out into the snow. He stopped at the last moment and turned.
"Don’t worry about Hermione and Pansy," he said gruffly. "We’re taking care of them."
Which was his roundabout way of saying that he understood how distraught they were feeling and then he was gone in a flurry of robes and the door swung shut behind him. The only evidence that it had ever been open was a soft, belated chill that made them both shiver. Draco turned to the table the phoenix had been set on and held out his hand. The figurine hopped into his hand and Harry was suddenly beside him, pulling his wand out from his back pocket, face set in lines more calm and collected than he really was. The shaking finger he laid on the top of the glass bird’s head told Draco that he was scared or angry or anything but calm.
"You," Draco said softly, with a quick glance at Potter’s face. "Are going to have a lot of explaining to do after this."
The other boy smiled and then tapped the phoenix with his wand and muttered "Fawkes," in a low tone. A split second later, Draco felt a familiar and unwelcome tug behind his bellybutton.