Fic: Dead Man's Party
Title: Dead Man’s Party
Author: writcraft and vlorahp
Pairing(s)/Characters: Harry/Draco, Severus, Hermione/Ron, Neville, zombie!Lucius Malfoy
Summary: Draco discovers some old artefacts in Malfoy Manor and decides to exhibit them at the Halloween party he and Harry are hosting. But Malfoy Manor is full of Dark things and in unearthing old antiques, Harry and Draco unleash the ghosts of the past.
Rating: R
Word count: ~7,700
Warnings: Zombies, some fluffiness, some strange dreams and perhaps a little bit of crack!
Author/Artist's notes: Loosely written for the prompt “Look at my mask, isn’t it pretty? It raises the dead” as spoken by Giles in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode ‘Dead Man’s Party’ hence the title of the fic. We hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you so much to omi_ohmy for the speedy beta and very helpful suggestions. Thanks also to lovely mod deirdre_aithne for running the fest and her endless patience!
The flames were everywhere.
Hot and searing, they curled around Draco’s ankles, keeping him rooted in place as he watched them devour Crabbe. He saw his friend’s skin blacken and blister as his mouth opened in a wordless scream. Draco tried to look away, to close his eyes and run until he could escape the smoke in his lungs and the accusations in Crabbe’s eyes, but the fire kept him in place until Crabbe was nothing but a meagre pile of ashes on the shining marble floor.
The flames disappeared with the remains of Crabbe, and Draco raised his eyes to see the walls of a narrow corridor. It wasn’t a part of the Manor he spent a lot of time in, but he recognised it by the expensive tapestry and the family portraits along the wall. He set one foot in front of the other, not quite trusting his ability to move again. As he did so the walls drew closer together and the shadows lengthened. At first he thought he was imagining it, but he could hear the creaks and groans of the building moving as his cautious movements quickened and he found himself running as the floor crumbled behind him and the hallway grew narrower until he had to slow again and walk sideways. Just when he thought he’d be crushed to death, he was able to squeeze through a last narrow opening and the walls stopped moving.
He was in a vast room he recognised as their dining room out of proportion. His mother and his father were seated together one end of the table and there was another setting where Draco usually sat. They were clearly waiting for him.
He took the last few steps towards the table and sat down. His mother and father didn’t acknowledge him, but with a scrape of metal against china they started eating and Draco decided to copy them. He knew something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t place the feeling. With the help of half a glass of red, he made it through the entrée. He took another small sip of his wine as the plate was removed and another course placed in front of him.
He looked up.
A rotund woman in teacher’s robes was dangling from the ceiling. Draco met her eyes and saw no life behind them, yet found himself unable to look away from her empty stare. Her eyes were glassy and cold and her face had a grey sort of pallor as if she had been dead for some time. As he looked down at his plate with a decidedly queasy feeling, Draco saw the food he had been eating was moving on the china. He pushed his plate away and knocked over his wine glass, the liquid now red and sticky as it spilled onto the dark wood of the dinner table. Draco stood and backed from the table - his chair clattered to the floor as he stumbled backwards.
“Where are you going, darling?”
His mother looked up and Draco stared at his parents, their forks poised by their mouths as they watched him curiously. He heard the hiss of a snake and the low rustle of movement behind him.
“Someone has let the cat out of the bag.” Draco’s father turned to face him and smiled a strange sort of smile. He extended his arm out and Draco saw the Dark Mark, ugly and vivid against his father’s pale skin. “Like father, like son.”
Draco watched as his father turned to his mother and started to laugh. He backed away from them both and turned from the scene to see a large door appear before him, just as it had in his sixth year when he had spent time in the Room of Requirement. He opened the door with a feeling of dread and let out a relieved sigh when found himself in his own bedroom.
A quick scan of the room showed nothing out of place. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, a huge snake had raised its head from where it was lying curled up in his bed.
“Draco,” it hissed. “Draco, don’t forget your duties.”
“No,” Draco shook his head and backed away. “Leave me alone, please, just leave me alone…”
Nagini was closing in on him and the door seemed to have disappeared. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out although he forced his vocal chords until his throat ached with the effort of trying to attract attention. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he was taking his last breath and then… nothing. After a moment, he blinked.
Nagini was gone and when he looked around he saw his door had reappeared.
“Come downstairs, Draco - your father is home.”
Instead of feeling relieved, Draco felt more scared than ever, knowing that whatever waited for him downstairs was much horrible than what had just happened. He startled as he felt strong warmth wrap around him, shaking him.
“Draco. Draco, wake up love.”
When Draco did, it wasn’t the gradual wakening he was used to. He was almost instantly aware of his surroundings as the last images of the dream faded away into darkness laced with light from the moon coming through the windows.
“Harry?” Draco was embarrassed at how high and forlorn his voice sounded and he wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to fight the icy cold in his chest.
“Hush, I’m here,” Harry said. He tugged at Draco’s arms and got him to wrap them around him instead, pulling him over so he could rest against Harry’s warm body. “I’m here.”
“Thank you,” Draco mumbled, hiding his face in Harry’s neck as he drifted back to sleep, the vivid images of his dream fading slowly. Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head and Draco could picture his smile.
“You do the same for me, every time. No more nightmares.”
“No more nightmares.” Draco agreed and settled into Harry’s warm embrace as he allowed sleep to claim him once more.
OoooOOoooO
The autumn air was crisp and cool and Draco walked through the streets of Diagon Alley, his arms filled with boxes and bags of various sizes. He jumped a little as a small wizard leapt out from behind a wall, wearing a gruesome sort of mask. Draco stepped to one side and allowed the child to run past him.
Halloween.
The wizarding world had only recently started to celebrate Halloween in the way that Muggles appeared to celebrate, with outlandish costumes and trick or treating. The young witches took great delight in painting their faces green and putting on tall black witches hats, as they would fly around on miniature broomsticks which never rose more than a foot off the ground. The young wizards would dress as demons or warlocks. Draco supposed it was all good fun, although he was still something of a stickler for tradition. He moved to the Floo in the Leaky Cauldron after he checked he had all of his supplies. With a puff of green he called out for Malfoy Manor and stepped through the Floo on the other side.
“Harry?” Draco moved from the Floo to the large ballroom where they were hosting their party tonight. He found Harry at the window, looking out onto the grounds. Despite the early hour it was already twilight outside, the clouds low and immobile in the sky, seeming almost static. Harry seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to Draco’s presence. Draco wondered if he was thinking about his parents.
He knew it wasn’t always easy for Harry to be here, surrounded by ghosts of the past, especially on a day like this. It was no easier for Draco and he sometimes wondered why he insisted on clinging on to a family home which held memories of death, violence and intimidation. They had worked hard on making the place look different - a fresh start, Harry had said. The cool pastels and magnolias lifted the previously dark walls and the room could have been any other room in any other Manor. They had painted away the memories and they had built new foundations. The party tonight was part of Harry’s efforts to establish something new and different and to encourage those who still remembered the war to put aside old prejudice. Draco supposed he and Harry had become poster boys for that, in a way.
The Boy Who Lived and the Death Eater.
Draco shook his head with a smile and dropped his bags as he stepped into the room and his eyes raked over Harry’s body. Clearly he wasn’t with Harry for the sake of politics. He wasn’t sure he would ever explain to anyone why he had decided to give his heart away to a reckless and colour blind Gryffindor with terrible hair, who was almost insufferably good. He wouldn’t explain it to anyone but Harry, at least.
He often told Harry, usually when the lights were out and Harry couldn’t see the heat Draco would feel rising in his cheeks. He didn’t have to explain it too often, though. It wasn’t as if Harry didn’t know, no matter how often Draco tried to pretend he couldn’t care less if Harry loved him back or not.
“Thinking about your costume for tonight, Potter? I suggest your Auror robes, you know how I like those.”
"I was a rubbish Auror, you know that. I only kept the outfit because you clearly like it so much.” Harry grinned and turned to face Draco.
Harry had started out as people assumed he would after Hogwarts, training to be part of the Auror corps with Weasley, Finnegan and others. After a couple of years of fighting insurgents in far off locations, Harry had come home. Now he worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office and, although Draco thought it was utterly pointless, it worked for Harry. Plus it kept him safe and meant he could be home with Draco in the evenings, which was a good thing in Draco’s view although he would never admit it.
“Yes, well. I might have a bit of a thing for a man in uniform.” Draco leered and then moved a little closer to Harry.
“Where the hell have you been, anyway?"
Draco hid his grin as Harry attempted to sound put out, resisting the urge to kiss away Harry’s frown. He was rubbish at acting and even more so when he was trying to pretend to be angry. Draco knew Harry just wanted to give Draco an excuse to apologise. He rather liked it when Draco apologised.
Not that Draco didn’t like it too - particularly when Harry made that sound which made Draco want to flip him over and push him against the nearest wall and do all sorts to him.
It had been like that at the start. Quick moments, breathless sighs and snogging in the shadows.
Naturally things had changed when Draco’s father died and they didn’t have to hide anymore. Draco had never much cared what his father would think about his relationship with Harry but he knew well enough that his father could cause trouble for them, if he chose to do so. Draco didn’t want to risk that. He didn’t want to risk losing Harry.
Harry’s friends had thought he was barmy, naturally, particularly Weasley. Pansy and Blaise hadn’t been terribly thrilled at the idea either, but Draco didn’t particularly care about their views. No one knew about the nights when he and Harry would move towards each other in a tangle of limbs and sheets and hold one another, talking in whispers until the sun came up. Nobody needed to know, because it was nobody’s business but theirs.
"I missed you too, Potter. Now kindly relieve me of those bags so we can put up the rest of the
decorations."
"What in the name of Merlin have you been buying?" Harry asked Draco with a laugh, and kissed him before he took a couple of the bags from his arms. "It looks bloody expensive. Not that I need to worry about that of course. My boyfriend is very rich." Harry nodded seriously and began to rummage through the bags. "It's one of the reasons I like him so much."
Draco rolled his eyes and dropped the rest of the bags. He caught himself calculating how much time they had before the party and if it was enough for an afternoon shag and rolled his eyes again, this time at himself. Bloody Potter and his divine kisses.
"Oh? And what are the other reasons? His good looks and family connections, I assume?"
"Oh, I don't know...he's really not all that attractive." Harry grinned and moved to Draco. He wrapped his arms around Draco and brushed their lips together as he smiled against them.
"Gorgeous bloody git. How much time do we have before this blasted party of ours?”
Draco considered the question and then kissed Harry, sliding his hands along his hips and into the back pockets of his jeans. "A few hours. There's a lot left to do though..." Draco smiled against Harry’s lips and then he trailed off as he remembered something. "I've found some more things we could use as decorations this morning. You'll love them."
"I will?" Harry let out a soft moan as Draco moved his hands and chuckled as he trailed a line of kisses along Draco's neck. "Maybe you should show me?"
“If you keep kissing me like that it won’t just be the decorations I will show you, Potter.” Draco pulled back from the kisses reluctantly. He would be quite happy kissing Harry all day, the party be damned, but they had been planning this for weeks. It was their first party as a couple and a lot of high ranking Ministry officials planned to attend, along with all of their friends. Somehow it had become a symbol of cooperation, the ultimate test of the new order after years of restructuring and building bridges. It was important nothing went wrong and Draco intended to make it the best night it could possibly be.
"Perhaps I am when it comes to you..." Harry chuckled and nuzzled into Draco's neck. There was a spot just below Draco's ear which made him weak at the knees when Harry kissed it just right. He wondered when exactly Potter had come to know Draco’s body better than he knew it himself. Harry moved back and held out his hand. “Come on then, show me what you found. I thought we had cleared everything out?”
“We must have missed a few things - mainly from my father’s study.” Draco shrugged and took Harry’s hand as they moved through the corridors.
The clean-up process had not been fun. The remnants left from the time when the Manor had been under the control of the Dark Lord included snake skin and the bones of the dead. Nothing more than bones remained, which was one small blessing as far as the clean-up operation went, but it offered no solace to the families whose loved ones had disappeared during the war. To the extent they could the Aurors had analysed the remains to try to identify those who remained missing, presumed dead, after the war. Hermione had led the efforts with the Unspeakables, working with Severus who had resurfaced after the war, to develop spells to help the identification process.
The fact Severus lived still had come as something of a shock to Harry, Draco remembered with a smirk. Some of his favourite evenings back then had involved inviting Severus round for supper when
they could both enjoy winding Potter up. It was remarkably easy.
Draco didn’t know what had happened between the two men at the end of the war but something had shifted and there was a tacit understanding between them both now, although they could hardly be described as friends. It made things easier for Draco in any event. He had leaned on Severus after his father had died and Harry had come to respect their relationship and Severus too as a result, albeit somewhat grudgingly.
They entered the study, one of the few rooms which hadn’t been altered beyond recognition, and Harry blinked as he took in the pile of artefacts in the centre of the room. "These are decorations?" He turned to Draco and arched his eyebrow. “They look Dark.”
“They are not.” Draco huffed a little and picked up one of the items he had admired earlier that day, an elegantly carved wooden mask. "Aren't they refined? I think they'll add that special touch we've been missing."
"Refined?" Harry looked at the mask Draco was holding and pulled a face. "It's bloody horrible. I bet it's cursed."
Harry reached out and touched it with a shiver and then looked up. He appeared to notice the offended glare on Draco's face as he backtracked quickly.
"I'm sorry, love. It's rather nice now you come to mention it. We should put it up where everyone can see it." Harry moved back to Draco to stand behind him and circled his arms around his waist as he kissed Draco's cheek. "I'm sorry, I know this is important to you. It's important to me too. I just want everyone who comes here to see what we have made of the place. Not to forget the war, I suppose, but to be reminded that things can change."
Draco opened his mouth to remind Harry who was the one with taste in this relationship and then just shook his head with a grin at Harry's backpedalling, leaning back into the embrace when Harry hurried to reassure him. Some days their situation still baffled him, but mostly he had accepted the fact no one else could get under his skin quite like Harry could. He leant in to brush their lips together, deepening the kiss when Harry reciprocated it eagerly.
"I have to admit, I look forward to letting everyone see you're mine." The words were said lightly and Draco wondered if Harry knew just how much he meant them.
“I am, you know…yours, I mean.” Harry pulled back from the kiss after a moment and looked at Draco. “I want everyone to see it so that they can understand.”
“And if they don’t?” Draco looked at Harry, careful not to let his face show even a flicker of panic.
“Because some of them won’t, you know - some of them never will.”
“Then let them wonder.” Harry smiled at Draco and pressed their foreheads together. “I hope you trust that I don’t care - after all of this time. Us against the world, remember?”
“You’re an idiot, Potter.” Draco cursed the smile which spread across his face and held onto Harry more tightly, because he did remember. Every night before they went to sleep, Harry would say it and burrow into Draco’s arms like a giant, very warm, shaggable teddy bear.
OoooOOoooO
“Get the door, will you?” Harry gave Draco a frantic look as he juggled three glasses of punch and a Firewhiskey, wobbling towards some guests, who eyed the precariously balanced drinks with apprehension as Harry approached.
“I’m not your house elf, Potter.” Draco glared at Harry and then went to open the door as he muttered about needing a butler under his breath. It really was most uncivilised to have to do door opening and the pouring of drinks. Entertaining Malfoy-style usually meant looking fabulous and holding witty conversation, not dashing around like a house-elf.
“Oh. It’s you.” Draco opened the door to see Ron and gave him what he hoped was a suitably imperious look before he thought of Harry and tried to school his features into a warmer expression.
“Welcome.” He resisted the urge to add ‘I suppose’ and stood back to let Weasley and Granger enter.
“Alright, Ferret. What the bloody hell are you wearing? Are you some sort of angel?”
“No. I’m a Muggle spaceman, you git.” Draco gritted his teeth and looked at his outfit which he supposed was a bit silver and tight in places, but he didn’t much care for those unflattering suits Muggles wore into space.
He gestured towards the ballroom. “Down the corridor, to the left. The Boy Wonder is currently trying not to fall over his own feet and drench our guests in the punch he insisted on making. It’s quite vile but it seems to make him happy. I think he has had too much sugar.” Draco grinned at the memory of making the punch, which had led to all sorts of fun with various fruits, not to mention the ice cubes. He rather liked Harry when he was excitable and drinking sickly sweet drinks because he would often look at Draco, his eyes shining and happy and Draco knew the smile was just for him. He was startled out of his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder.
“I love what you have done with the place, Draco. Really lovely. Honestly.” Granger reached out a hand and Draco shook it, leaning forward and planting a kiss on both of her cheeks.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Granger smiled at him and then made her way into the ballroom, following Weasley. Out of all of Harry’s friends Draco definitely liked her the best. She was bright and interesting and had lots of things to say about books and art. He had absolutely no clue what she saw in Weasley, who, Draco had long suspected, couldn’t even read. He supposed Granger must have a thing for Auror uniforms too. It was the only explanation.
“Draco.”
“Severus.” Draco turned again and saw Severus standing in the doorway, scowling and clutching a bottle of Firewhiskey. He was dressed in his usual black robes and swept past Draco, looking around the place. “What have you come as?”
“A Hogwarts Professor, naturally.” Severus smirked at Draco and then raised an eyebrow. “Coming dressed as an angel is a bold sort of statement, don’t you think?”
“I’m not a bloody…oh, forget it.” Draco huffed and then gestured for Severus to follow the others to the ballroom. “I suppose we should join the party. Merlin only knows what Potter is doing left to his own devices.”
“Indeed.” With a grimace, Severus moved ahead of Draco and entered the room where he looked around and promptly found a seat in a secluded corner and opened his Firewhiskey.
“There you are.” Harry skidded towards Draco on the polished floor and came to a stop just next to him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a deep kiss, ignoring the snort from Severus.
“Here I am. Unhand me, Potter. Honestly. Must you always make a spectacle of me?” Draco smiled and held Harry close nonetheless. He was warm and tasted of fruit punch and brandy and in all honesty Draco was perfectly happy in his arms.
“I do wish you wouldn’t slobber all over each other quite so much in public.” Severus pulled a face and Draco smirked when he heard Weasley mutter something about agreeing with Snape for once.
“What did you expect? It is our house warming, after all. We’re pretty happy and I for one have no qualms about showing the rest of the world.” Harry grinned and kissed Draco again, just on his ear and Draco closed his eyes for a moment as Harry nuzzled his neck, trying to resist the desire to drag him off to a quiet room somewhere and shag him senseless.
“I’m going to need more booze if you two plan to keep that up all night.” Weasley pulled a face as he looked at Harry and Draco and gestured to his glass of champagne which was already empty. Draco tried to hide his smile at that - Weasley had a tendency to get rather drunk whenever he spent time with Draco and Harry.
“I think we have some more champagne in storage - we ordered a truckload of the stuff, Malfoy insisted.”
“Yes, well it’s a good job I did at the rate your friends are downing the stuff like its pumpkin juice,” Draco defended himself. One could never have too much champagne on hand.
Harry rolled his eyes and winked at Weasley. “Shall I go and get some more, then?”
“No need. I already feel like a house elf and I can’t risk you tripping over and breaking all of the bottles. It’s expensive stuff, you know” Draco had already seen Harry come close to spilling drinks on the guests several times that night and although he didn’t care if the punch got knocked on the floor, he certainly didn’t want to waste decent fizz.
“Expensive is it? What a surprise.”
“I didn’t hear any complaints.” Draco nodded at the empty glass in Weasley’s hand and then kissed Harry on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.”
Draco rolled his eyes at Weasley’s parting shot and resisted the urge to punch him in the nose. As he left the room and the sound of laughter and music faded behind him, he was quite sure he could hear Granger asking Harry is Draco still had nightmares about the Manor. He glared with renewed vigour as he walked outside to the stone building which he and Harry used for storage. Neither of them was particularly fond of the cellars. He hoped Harry didn’t tell his friends too many details about that sort of stuff. It was all rather embarrassing after all.
The door creaked as he pushed it open. The inside of the building was dark and there were enough spider webs in the corners to make him wish for a decent house-elf once again, but he took care of it with a few well-placed Cleaning Charms and a Lumos. As he stood contemplating the different sorts of champagne and what would go best with the food they were offering, he heard a dragging sound outside, like someone was too lazy to lift his feet off the ground to walk. He remembered what his father had had to say about that when Draco had done the same thing as a boy and shook his head. Probably Weasley coming to find out if Draco was crying like a Hufflepuff yet because the dark was getting to him.
He snorted to himself and picked out two bottles before he went back outside, sarcastic remark at the ready. He frowned when he saw no one was in his immediate vicinity. The path to the house was illuminated by the light from the windows and he could hear the chatter of the guests and the music, but underneath it all was still the slow, dragging motion. He turned in a circle, not wanting to go inside before he had solved the mystery and then stopped halfway through the motion, barely noticing the sound the bottles made as they shattered on the hard floor.
His wand was in his hand before he could make the conscious decision to draw it, pointed at the figure stumbling towards him. At first he had thought it might be a confused guest who had imbibed on too much liquor, but the movements were too regular, too coordinated for that. He couldn’t see the person’s face, only a shadowy outline, but something about them seemed familiar.
“Identify yourself!”
Draco was proud that his voice sounded steadier than he had expected, but the feeling quickly vanished when the intruder just kept moving towards him, not pausing or faltering once.
“I mean it, one more step and Crucio will sound like a blessing.”
The threat was empty as Draco didn’t plan to use any Unforgivables and he didn’t know a lot of curses more painful than Crucio at any rate, but he certainly did plan to defend himself if it came to that.
He was just trying to decide what hex to use when the clouds that had turned the night pitch black before revealed the moon and with it, the identity of the trespasser.
Draco froze.
It couldn’t be. There was absolutely no possible explanation for this to be happening, but if he trusted something it was his own eyes.
“F- Father?”
The sound his father made wasn’t like anything Draco had ever heard before. He could see the skin on his father’s face peeling in places, his eye sockets hollow and his movements lumbered. He advanced towards Draco a macabre sort of grin on his rotting face and Draco stood rooted in place, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He wondered if this was another dream, if perhaps Harry’s warm arms would wrap around him and everything would be alright again. Draco wanted to cast whatever spell he could at the advancing creature but the fact it wore his father’s face made him unable to do anything other than stare.
After a long moment Draco found he could move his feet, that they weren’t rooted to the spot as they always seemed to be in his nightmares. He turned and ran towards the house, towards the light and the laughter - to Harry.
Harry was where Draco had left him, chatting to Ron and Hermione and laughing with his friends. The laughter stopped as Draco entered and Harry and Draco’s eyes met. Harry rushed towards him swiftly enough to make Draco wonder what he looked like, embarrassed for his own trembling in front of Weasley, Severus and the other guests.
“What’s wrong?” Harry rested his hand on Draco’s arm and looked at him, his face etched with concern. Draco felt better just being close to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but he only got out a scratchy sound before he gave up and shook his head. He raised his eyes to Harry’s and saw they were full of emotion as Harry met Draco’s gaze with an intensity usually reserved for more private moments and when he spoke again his voice was barely more than a whisper. “Draco, whatever it is, we can deal with it. We always can.”
It was the ‘we’ that brought some semblance of order into Draco’s thoughts and he nodded.
“Outside…”
Harry’s eyes flickered to the door Draco had just come through. “What? What’s outside?”
“My… My father,” Draco said, meeting Harry’s eyes with a helpless expression.
“Don’t be daft, Malfoy, your father is dead,” Weasley, who had obviously been listening in spoke up and Draco felt the almost peaceful privacy of the moment between himself and Harry shatter, as he became aware of the guests listening to his every word. He raised his eyes and he could see expressions ranging from disbelief to pity. No doubt everyone thought Draco was losing his marbles.
“Shut up, Ron,” Harry replied without looking at him. Draco could see he was torn between running outside and staying with Draco. He clutched at Harry’s arm. Harry nodded as if understanding and took Draco’s hand before he turned to Weasley.
“Harry?” Weasley had the grace to look a little uncertain now at the cool, worried look on Harry’s face.
“You know this place, Ron. It’s full of dark magic. You’re an Auror, you know weird things can happen better than most.” Harry ran his hand through his hair and then pulled Draco close to him.
“Could you take a look outside - let me know if you see anything?”
Weasley rolled his eyes, but his friend’s voice was strained enough for him to do what he said - Draco grudgingly gave him credit for being a loyal friend - and he pulled back a curtain to look outside, several of Harry and Draco’s friends watching him curiously.
“There’s nothi- Bloody hell!”
Weasley jumped back, but he was a little too late and the shards from the shattering glass cut him across his right arm and his cheek.
Screams pierced the air as Draco’s father climbed into the room, the jagged edges of the broken window not seeming to slow him down. Where they cut him no blood appeared. In the bright light of the ballroom, Draco could see what he had already distantly noticed outside: His father’s skin had a greenish quality to it instead of the aristocratic pallor Draco was used to seeing and his eyes were bloodshot, his clothes torn and crusted with dirt. When he flashed his teeth at the hysteric crowd with a grin, Draco could see they were rotting away inside his mouth. But the most distinct feature were his eyes. Draco had seen them narrowed in rage, closed with pain as he was tortured and alit with a disturbing sense of caring when he looked at Draco after the war, but he had never seen them empty. His father might be a lot of things, but stupid he had never been. This wasn’t the man who had raised him; this was a creature incapable of human thought and understanding.
Draco shivered and clung to Harry’s hand more tightly to keep him from joining a bleeding Weasley, Finnegan and a few other Aurors in attendance who had formed a half circle in front of the guests to protect them from harm as more figures climbed in after Lucius. Draco didn’t recognise them all, but he thought he could make out a few Death Eaters he had believed to be dead, along with Mr Ollivander, Charity Burbage and several other of the Dark Lord’s victims. He swallowed when he remembered the faint images from his nightmare.
“Harry… They’re all supposed to be dead.”
Draco could see Harry nodding grimly out of the corners of his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Draco, but I have to help… The spells aren’t doing any good.”
Draco could see Harry was right when he looked back to the Aurors. They were flinging spells and curses at their attackers, but nothing seemed to keep them at bay for more than a few seconds. People had started running from the room as the zombies - because that was what they were, Draco realised - advanced slowly and the Aurors backed away.
“Yes, you’re right,” Draco decided. “But I’m not letting you go alone.”
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Draco threw him a glare, already having expected it, and Harry just gave a resigned nod and squeezed his hand before he let go.
“Alright then. Any Dark Arts knowledge that might come in handy here?”
Draco shrugged and recounted the little he knew about zombies. “They smell?”
Harry gave a snort as they joined the Aurors, taking position next to Weasley, who was still bleeding from the deep cut in his cheek. “To think I ever believed you were evil. We’ll just spray them with
deodorant, then. I’m sure that’ll show them.”
“Shut up, Potter,” Draco said, cutting off Peter Pettigrew’s good arm with the nasty curse he had learned in a filthy bathroom in sixth year. It seemed like a very long time ago. “You could always just throw Muggle artefacts at them, I’m sure that will help.”
“Hey!” Harry protested. “The Aurors aren’t doing any good either!”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mate,” Ron growled from Harry’s other side, using a series of, Draco had to admit, rather impressive spells to bind three of the more vicious zombies together, causing them to fall over and bite at each other. They were free again soon enough, but it was a temporary distraction that gave the other Aurors a quick reprieve.
“Sorry, Ron,” Harry said with a trace of guilt. Draco rolled his eyes. It had been true after all, the Aurors weren’t doing any good.
Killing the zombies was impossible since they were already dead and spells and curses other than Slashing and Stabbing Hexes seemed to only have a temporary effect on them, so the only way to fight them was to incapacitate them by hacking away at them in a rather distasteful manner. Draco wrinkled his nose and stepped over a foot to cut a house elves’ head off. He thought he recognised it from his childhood.
So far he had stayed away from the people he’d had a closer connection to and tried not to put names and personalities to the rotting bodies; he suspected the others had done the same. He knew they couldn’t go on like this forever when he spotted his father amongst them again. This was already hard enough and despite his light remarks, he could feel he was only holding on by a thread.
Something had to give and soon.
“Retreat!”
Draco wasn’t sure who the command had come from, but he was quick to follow It, tugging at Harry’s hand to get him to abandon his position. He knew Harry hated giving up, but eventually he let Draco drag him away, firing off more useless curses as they slowly backed away. Draco had considered using spells he hadn’t used in years, but he was hesitant with the Aurors around and he didn’t want to disappoint Harry.
He felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him backwards and he followed, with Harry as Severus began to murmur spells, his wand trained on the zombies.
“What are you doing?” Harry eyed Severus with suspicion and Draco would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire.
“What nobody else seems prepared to.”
“Which is?”
Draco rolled his eyes at Harry and shook his head. “There are dead people trying to kill us in this room, I think you should just let him get on with it, Harry.” Draco tried to keep the panic out of his voice.
“Thank you, Draco.” Severus smirked for a moment and then turned to Harry to respond to his question, his voice tight and clipped. “Mind control.”
“Imperius?” Harry watched Severus and wrinkled his nose when Severus nodded. “Then what?”
“In order to terminate their existence permanently we need to understand why they rose in the first place. If you call your lapdogs back and let me work I can at least control them for the time being.” Severus looked at Harry who continued to watch him. “Now, Potter!”
“They’re Aurors, Snape, not my lapdogs.”
“Harry…” Draco’s tone was a warning and Harry turned to him and then nodded once.
“Fine.” Harry raised his voice to get Kingsley’s attention. Draco thought it was unlikely the Minister would take commands, even from Harry, but apparently he had underestimated just how highly valued Harry’s opinion was. That or Kingsley was as exhausted as the Aurors fighting alongside him looked. Draco thought he could still see blood trickling down from the wound on Weasley’s cheek and several of the others were hurt as well.
“Protect the guests,” Snape said to Kingsley when he stopped to speak to them. “For the most part they appear to have taken refuge elsewhere in the Manor. Some of them ran, but a lot stayed to fight in case you couldn’t manage on your own.”
Kingsley gave a terse nod and waved for the Aurors to follow him. He looked at Harry. “Will you be okay?”
Harry drew himself up to his full height and Draco saw the Harry he remembered from the war, his shoulders tense as he prepared to fight a battle he didn’t want to be part of in the first place. “I’ll be fine. But you should go and help the others. The zombies are everywhere. Imperius is the only thing which keeps them under control.”
Kingsley nodded and left the room, taking a number of the Aurors with him. Draco, Severus and Harry were alone, with Weasley, Longbottom, Finnegan and Granger working on the other end of the room.
“Severus?” Draco looked over at Severus whose face was pinched white, with the exertions of keeping the zombies under control.
“I’m fine. I can control them for a while. We have to find out what is causing this… condition though and soon.”
Harry gave Draco a panicked look behind Severus’ back, but when he answered his voice was smooth and sure. Draco wondered if that was how he had fooled people into thinking he knew what he was doing before he had defeated the Dark Lord.
“We’ll find out. Just keep them under control for a few more minutes. Make them walk back to where they came from or something.”
Snape looked like he wanted to say something insulting, but was too busy so Draco took care of it for him. The man had just saved them from a lot of trouble after all.
Draco snorted. “That wouldn’t accomplish anything, we have to get rid of them permanently.” He tried to avoid looking at his father, but he couldn’t help a quick glance. The sight was almost more disturbing than before.
“Fine! You suggest something then!”
“We can just… just…” Draco looked around for a clue and was about to admit he had no idea what to do when Granger came towards them. She had a graze on her arm and her cheeks were flushed from the exertions of trying to keep the zombies at bay. She looked stressed, her hair was frizzier than it had been at the beginning of the night as she spoke quickly to the three men.
“Kingsley sent his Patronus to Ron - the other guests are fine, they healed what injuries they could and the other Aurors are using Imperius to keep the zombies at bay. Now what are we going to do about the mask?”
Harry looked relieved at the first part, but frowned along with Draco at her last sentence.
“What mask?”
Granger gave them a disbelieving look and pointed to the mask that Draco had found in his father’s study. The eyes of the mask had turned green and the glow had started to spread around the room. Draco couldn’t believe neither he or Harry or Severus for that matter had noticed, but he supposed warding off zombie attacks didn’t help one’s attention span. “It’s Dark magic. Can’t you feel it? Are you telling me neither of you noticed?”
“Damn it, Father!”
“Look at my mask, isn’t it pretty? It raises the dead.” Harry turned to glare at Draco.
Draco grinned when a zombie swatted Harry over the head and rounded on Severus. He hadn’t had a pithy reply ready anyway.
Harry rubbed his head, grimacing. “You’re supposed to have them under control!”
“Oh, my apologies. My concentration slipped for a moment.” Severus gave Harry a faux apologetic look as he lazily continued to direct his wand at the zombies, the action hardly taking any effort at all anymore.
“Oh I bet it bloody did, you git.” Harry glared and then looked at Granger with pleading eyes. “What do we do to stop it?”
“This is how you killed a Dark Lord?” Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry and nodded to Granger. “Ask your friends what to do and then take all the credit?”
“It wasn’t like that at all you irritating prat, I saved you, didn’t I?” Harry glared at Draco and then looked back to Hermione. “Seriously though. What do we do?”
“I think it’s the eyes…” Hermione looked at the mask and then shook her head slowly as she aimed her wand at the mask and tried a spell which caused the zombies to lurch dangerously as Severus cursed under his breath. “It doesn’t look like a spell will do it…Perhaps we need something like we used for the Horcruxes?”
“Potter could always use Expelliarmus if you’re in doubt.” Severus waved his wand again as one of the zombies began to dance a little like a puppet on a string.
“Shut it, Snape!” Harry glared at Severus and Draco tried to hide a smirk as he looked at Hermione.
Hermione pointed to a large sword, displayed on the wall. “We have the sword of Gryffindor, perhaps that would do it?”
“Sounds like that would do the trick.” Longbottom, who had walked over, nodded and then removed his wand. With a quick Accio the sword flew into his hand and he took a swing at the mask. The metal sliced through the wooden mask effortlessly as the eyes glowed a brighter green and a blast of light filled the room, causing Draco to close his eyes as it got too bright. When he opened them again, the broken mask was on the floor, a crack going right through the middle, and the zombies had disappeared. Everything was silent for a moment, like no one could quite believe it was really over.
“Oh well done, Neville!” Hermione let out a delighted laugh and gave Neville a hug.
“He’s always stealing your thunder, Potter. It must get very frustrating.” Draco felt an enormous sense of relief now his father wasn’t lumbering around their ballroom, smelling like the grave.
Harry actually looked disgruntled for a moment and then he laughed. “I’ll live. Maybe not being the hero for once will be good for me.” He pondered it for a moment and then added. “I could even go evil…”
Draco shook his head, gravely. “You don’t have what it takes, Potter.”
Harry smiled and kissed him, mumbling against his lips “Neither do you, prat.”
Draco knew they would all walk away with some additional nightmares after this, but he was even more certain Harry would always be there to chase them away for him.
~Fin~
Author: writcraft and vlorahp
Pairing(s)/Characters: Harry/Draco, Severus, Hermione/Ron, Neville, zombie!Lucius Malfoy
Summary: Draco discovers some old artefacts in Malfoy Manor and decides to exhibit them at the Halloween party he and Harry are hosting. But Malfoy Manor is full of Dark things and in unearthing old antiques, Harry and Draco unleash the ghosts of the past.
Rating: R
Word count: ~7,700
Warnings: Zombies, some fluffiness, some strange dreams and perhaps a little bit of crack!
Author/Artist's notes: Loosely written for the prompt “Look at my mask, isn’t it pretty? It raises the dead” as spoken by Giles in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode ‘Dead Man’s Party’ hence the title of the fic. We hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you so much to omi_ohmy for the speedy beta and very helpful suggestions. Thanks also to lovely mod deirdre_aithne for running the fest and her endless patience!
The flames were everywhere.
Hot and searing, they curled around Draco’s ankles, keeping him rooted in place as he watched them devour Crabbe. He saw his friend’s skin blacken and blister as his mouth opened in a wordless scream. Draco tried to look away, to close his eyes and run until he could escape the smoke in his lungs and the accusations in Crabbe’s eyes, but the fire kept him in place until Crabbe was nothing but a meagre pile of ashes on the shining marble floor.
The flames disappeared with the remains of Crabbe, and Draco raised his eyes to see the walls of a narrow corridor. It wasn’t a part of the Manor he spent a lot of time in, but he recognised it by the expensive tapestry and the family portraits along the wall. He set one foot in front of the other, not quite trusting his ability to move again. As he did so the walls drew closer together and the shadows lengthened. At first he thought he was imagining it, but he could hear the creaks and groans of the building moving as his cautious movements quickened and he found himself running as the floor crumbled behind him and the hallway grew narrower until he had to slow again and walk sideways. Just when he thought he’d be crushed to death, he was able to squeeze through a last narrow opening and the walls stopped moving.
He was in a vast room he recognised as their dining room out of proportion. His mother and his father were seated together one end of the table and there was another setting where Draco usually sat. They were clearly waiting for him.
He took the last few steps towards the table and sat down. His mother and father didn’t acknowledge him, but with a scrape of metal against china they started eating and Draco decided to copy them. He knew something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t place the feeling. With the help of half a glass of red, he made it through the entrée. He took another small sip of his wine as the plate was removed and another course placed in front of him.
He looked up.
A rotund woman in teacher’s robes was dangling from the ceiling. Draco met her eyes and saw no life behind them, yet found himself unable to look away from her empty stare. Her eyes were glassy and cold and her face had a grey sort of pallor as if she had been dead for some time. As he looked down at his plate with a decidedly queasy feeling, Draco saw the food he had been eating was moving on the china. He pushed his plate away and knocked over his wine glass, the liquid now red and sticky as it spilled onto the dark wood of the dinner table. Draco stood and backed from the table - his chair clattered to the floor as he stumbled backwards.
“Where are you going, darling?”
His mother looked up and Draco stared at his parents, their forks poised by their mouths as they watched him curiously. He heard the hiss of a snake and the low rustle of movement behind him.
“Someone has let the cat out of the bag.” Draco’s father turned to face him and smiled a strange sort of smile. He extended his arm out and Draco saw the Dark Mark, ugly and vivid against his father’s pale skin. “Like father, like son.”
Draco watched as his father turned to his mother and started to laugh. He backed away from them both and turned from the scene to see a large door appear before him, just as it had in his sixth year when he had spent time in the Room of Requirement. He opened the door with a feeling of dread and let out a relieved sigh when found himself in his own bedroom.
A quick scan of the room showed nothing out of place. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, a huge snake had raised its head from where it was lying curled up in his bed.
“Draco,” it hissed. “Draco, don’t forget your duties.”
“No,” Draco shook his head and backed away. “Leave me alone, please, just leave me alone…”
Nagini was closing in on him and the door seemed to have disappeared. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out although he forced his vocal chords until his throat ached with the effort of trying to attract attention. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he was taking his last breath and then… nothing. After a moment, he blinked.
Nagini was gone and when he looked around he saw his door had reappeared.
“Come downstairs, Draco - your father is home.”
Instead of feeling relieved, Draco felt more scared than ever, knowing that whatever waited for him downstairs was much horrible than what had just happened. He startled as he felt strong warmth wrap around him, shaking him.
“Draco. Draco, wake up love.”
When Draco did, it wasn’t the gradual wakening he was used to. He was almost instantly aware of his surroundings as the last images of the dream faded away into darkness laced with light from the moon coming through the windows.
“Harry?” Draco was embarrassed at how high and forlorn his voice sounded and he wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to fight the icy cold in his chest.
“Hush, I’m here,” Harry said. He tugged at Draco’s arms and got him to wrap them around him instead, pulling him over so he could rest against Harry’s warm body. “I’m here.”
“Thank you,” Draco mumbled, hiding his face in Harry’s neck as he drifted back to sleep, the vivid images of his dream fading slowly. Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head and Draco could picture his smile.
“You do the same for me, every time. No more nightmares.”
“No more nightmares.” Draco agreed and settled into Harry’s warm embrace as he allowed sleep to claim him once more.
OoooOOoooO
The autumn air was crisp and cool and Draco walked through the streets of Diagon Alley, his arms filled with boxes and bags of various sizes. He jumped a little as a small wizard leapt out from behind a wall, wearing a gruesome sort of mask. Draco stepped to one side and allowed the child to run past him.
Halloween.
The wizarding world had only recently started to celebrate Halloween in the way that Muggles appeared to celebrate, with outlandish costumes and trick or treating. The young witches took great delight in painting their faces green and putting on tall black witches hats, as they would fly around on miniature broomsticks which never rose more than a foot off the ground. The young wizards would dress as demons or warlocks. Draco supposed it was all good fun, although he was still something of a stickler for tradition. He moved to the Floo in the Leaky Cauldron after he checked he had all of his supplies. With a puff of green he called out for Malfoy Manor and stepped through the Floo on the other side.
“Harry?” Draco moved from the Floo to the large ballroom where they were hosting their party tonight. He found Harry at the window, looking out onto the grounds. Despite the early hour it was already twilight outside, the clouds low and immobile in the sky, seeming almost static. Harry seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to Draco’s presence. Draco wondered if he was thinking about his parents.
He knew it wasn’t always easy for Harry to be here, surrounded by ghosts of the past, especially on a day like this. It was no easier for Draco and he sometimes wondered why he insisted on clinging on to a family home which held memories of death, violence and intimidation. They had worked hard on making the place look different - a fresh start, Harry had said. The cool pastels and magnolias lifted the previously dark walls and the room could have been any other room in any other Manor. They had painted away the memories and they had built new foundations. The party tonight was part of Harry’s efforts to establish something new and different and to encourage those who still remembered the war to put aside old prejudice. Draco supposed he and Harry had become poster boys for that, in a way.
The Boy Who Lived and the Death Eater.
Draco shook his head with a smile and dropped his bags as he stepped into the room and his eyes raked over Harry’s body. Clearly he wasn’t with Harry for the sake of politics. He wasn’t sure he would ever explain to anyone why he had decided to give his heart away to a reckless and colour blind Gryffindor with terrible hair, who was almost insufferably good. He wouldn’t explain it to anyone but Harry, at least.
He often told Harry, usually when the lights were out and Harry couldn’t see the heat Draco would feel rising in his cheeks. He didn’t have to explain it too often, though. It wasn’t as if Harry didn’t know, no matter how often Draco tried to pretend he couldn’t care less if Harry loved him back or not.
“Thinking about your costume for tonight, Potter? I suggest your Auror robes, you know how I like those.”
"I was a rubbish Auror, you know that. I only kept the outfit because you clearly like it so much.” Harry grinned and turned to face Draco.
Harry had started out as people assumed he would after Hogwarts, training to be part of the Auror corps with Weasley, Finnegan and others. After a couple of years of fighting insurgents in far off locations, Harry had come home. Now he worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office and, although Draco thought it was utterly pointless, it worked for Harry. Plus it kept him safe and meant he could be home with Draco in the evenings, which was a good thing in Draco’s view although he would never admit it.
“Yes, well. I might have a bit of a thing for a man in uniform.” Draco leered and then moved a little closer to Harry.
“Where the hell have you been, anyway?"
Draco hid his grin as Harry attempted to sound put out, resisting the urge to kiss away Harry’s frown. He was rubbish at acting and even more so when he was trying to pretend to be angry. Draco knew Harry just wanted to give Draco an excuse to apologise. He rather liked it when Draco apologised.
Not that Draco didn’t like it too - particularly when Harry made that sound which made Draco want to flip him over and push him against the nearest wall and do all sorts to him.
It had been like that at the start. Quick moments, breathless sighs and snogging in the shadows.
Naturally things had changed when Draco’s father died and they didn’t have to hide anymore. Draco had never much cared what his father would think about his relationship with Harry but he knew well enough that his father could cause trouble for them, if he chose to do so. Draco didn’t want to risk that. He didn’t want to risk losing Harry.
Harry’s friends had thought he was barmy, naturally, particularly Weasley. Pansy and Blaise hadn’t been terribly thrilled at the idea either, but Draco didn’t particularly care about their views. No one knew about the nights when he and Harry would move towards each other in a tangle of limbs and sheets and hold one another, talking in whispers until the sun came up. Nobody needed to know, because it was nobody’s business but theirs.
"I missed you too, Potter. Now kindly relieve me of those bags so we can put up the rest of the
decorations."
"What in the name of Merlin have you been buying?" Harry asked Draco with a laugh, and kissed him before he took a couple of the bags from his arms. "It looks bloody expensive. Not that I need to worry about that of course. My boyfriend is very rich." Harry nodded seriously and began to rummage through the bags. "It's one of the reasons I like him so much."
Draco rolled his eyes and dropped the rest of the bags. He caught himself calculating how much time they had before the party and if it was enough for an afternoon shag and rolled his eyes again, this time at himself. Bloody Potter and his divine kisses.
"Oh? And what are the other reasons? His good looks and family connections, I assume?"
"Oh, I don't know...he's really not all that attractive." Harry grinned and moved to Draco. He wrapped his arms around Draco and brushed their lips together as he smiled against them.
"Gorgeous bloody git. How much time do we have before this blasted party of ours?”
Draco considered the question and then kissed Harry, sliding his hands along his hips and into the back pockets of his jeans. "A few hours. There's a lot left to do though..." Draco smiled against Harry’s lips and then he trailed off as he remembered something. "I've found some more things we could use as decorations this morning. You'll love them."
"I will?" Harry let out a soft moan as Draco moved his hands and chuckled as he trailed a line of kisses along Draco's neck. "Maybe you should show me?"
“If you keep kissing me like that it won’t just be the decorations I will show you, Potter.” Draco pulled back from the kisses reluctantly. He would be quite happy kissing Harry all day, the party be damned, but they had been planning this for weeks. It was their first party as a couple and a lot of high ranking Ministry officials planned to attend, along with all of their friends. Somehow it had become a symbol of cooperation, the ultimate test of the new order after years of restructuring and building bridges. It was important nothing went wrong and Draco intended to make it the best night it could possibly be.
"Perhaps I am when it comes to you..." Harry chuckled and nuzzled into Draco's neck. There was a spot just below Draco's ear which made him weak at the knees when Harry kissed it just right. He wondered when exactly Potter had come to know Draco’s body better than he knew it himself. Harry moved back and held out his hand. “Come on then, show me what you found. I thought we had cleared everything out?”
“We must have missed a few things - mainly from my father’s study.” Draco shrugged and took Harry’s hand as they moved through the corridors.
The clean-up process had not been fun. The remnants left from the time when the Manor had been under the control of the Dark Lord included snake skin and the bones of the dead. Nothing more than bones remained, which was one small blessing as far as the clean-up operation went, but it offered no solace to the families whose loved ones had disappeared during the war. To the extent they could the Aurors had analysed the remains to try to identify those who remained missing, presumed dead, after the war. Hermione had led the efforts with the Unspeakables, working with Severus who had resurfaced after the war, to develop spells to help the identification process.
The fact Severus lived still had come as something of a shock to Harry, Draco remembered with a smirk. Some of his favourite evenings back then had involved inviting Severus round for supper when
they could both enjoy winding Potter up. It was remarkably easy.
Draco didn’t know what had happened between the two men at the end of the war but something had shifted and there was a tacit understanding between them both now, although they could hardly be described as friends. It made things easier for Draco in any event. He had leaned on Severus after his father had died and Harry had come to respect their relationship and Severus too as a result, albeit somewhat grudgingly.
They entered the study, one of the few rooms which hadn’t been altered beyond recognition, and Harry blinked as he took in the pile of artefacts in the centre of the room. "These are decorations?" He turned to Draco and arched his eyebrow. “They look Dark.”
“They are not.” Draco huffed a little and picked up one of the items he had admired earlier that day, an elegantly carved wooden mask. "Aren't they refined? I think they'll add that special touch we've been missing."
"Refined?" Harry looked at the mask Draco was holding and pulled a face. "It's bloody horrible. I bet it's cursed."
Harry reached out and touched it with a shiver and then looked up. He appeared to notice the offended glare on Draco's face as he backtracked quickly.
"I'm sorry, love. It's rather nice now you come to mention it. We should put it up where everyone can see it." Harry moved back to Draco to stand behind him and circled his arms around his waist as he kissed Draco's cheek. "I'm sorry, I know this is important to you. It's important to me too. I just want everyone who comes here to see what we have made of the place. Not to forget the war, I suppose, but to be reminded that things can change."
Draco opened his mouth to remind Harry who was the one with taste in this relationship and then just shook his head with a grin at Harry's backpedalling, leaning back into the embrace when Harry hurried to reassure him. Some days their situation still baffled him, but mostly he had accepted the fact no one else could get under his skin quite like Harry could. He leant in to brush their lips together, deepening the kiss when Harry reciprocated it eagerly.
"I have to admit, I look forward to letting everyone see you're mine." The words were said lightly and Draco wondered if Harry knew just how much he meant them.
“I am, you know…yours, I mean.” Harry pulled back from the kiss after a moment and looked at Draco. “I want everyone to see it so that they can understand.”
“And if they don’t?” Draco looked at Harry, careful not to let his face show even a flicker of panic.
“Because some of them won’t, you know - some of them never will.”
“Then let them wonder.” Harry smiled at Draco and pressed their foreheads together. “I hope you trust that I don’t care - after all of this time. Us against the world, remember?”
“You’re an idiot, Potter.” Draco cursed the smile which spread across his face and held onto Harry more tightly, because he did remember. Every night before they went to sleep, Harry would say it and burrow into Draco’s arms like a giant, very warm, shaggable teddy bear.
OoooOOoooO
“Get the door, will you?” Harry gave Draco a frantic look as he juggled three glasses of punch and a Firewhiskey, wobbling towards some guests, who eyed the precariously balanced drinks with apprehension as Harry approached.
“I’m not your house elf, Potter.” Draco glared at Harry and then went to open the door as he muttered about needing a butler under his breath. It really was most uncivilised to have to do door opening and the pouring of drinks. Entertaining Malfoy-style usually meant looking fabulous and holding witty conversation, not dashing around like a house-elf.
“Oh. It’s you.” Draco opened the door to see Ron and gave him what he hoped was a suitably imperious look before he thought of Harry and tried to school his features into a warmer expression.
“Welcome.” He resisted the urge to add ‘I suppose’ and stood back to let Weasley and Granger enter.
“Alright, Ferret. What the bloody hell are you wearing? Are you some sort of angel?”
“No. I’m a Muggle spaceman, you git.” Draco gritted his teeth and looked at his outfit which he supposed was a bit silver and tight in places, but he didn’t much care for those unflattering suits Muggles wore into space.
He gestured towards the ballroom. “Down the corridor, to the left. The Boy Wonder is currently trying not to fall over his own feet and drench our guests in the punch he insisted on making. It’s quite vile but it seems to make him happy. I think he has had too much sugar.” Draco grinned at the memory of making the punch, which had led to all sorts of fun with various fruits, not to mention the ice cubes. He rather liked Harry when he was excitable and drinking sickly sweet drinks because he would often look at Draco, his eyes shining and happy and Draco knew the smile was just for him. He was startled out of his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder.
“I love what you have done with the place, Draco. Really lovely. Honestly.” Granger reached out a hand and Draco shook it, leaning forward and planting a kiss on both of her cheeks.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Granger smiled at him and then made her way into the ballroom, following Weasley. Out of all of Harry’s friends Draco definitely liked her the best. She was bright and interesting and had lots of things to say about books and art. He had absolutely no clue what she saw in Weasley, who, Draco had long suspected, couldn’t even read. He supposed Granger must have a thing for Auror uniforms too. It was the only explanation.
“Draco.”
“Severus.” Draco turned again and saw Severus standing in the doorway, scowling and clutching a bottle of Firewhiskey. He was dressed in his usual black robes and swept past Draco, looking around the place. “What have you come as?”
“A Hogwarts Professor, naturally.” Severus smirked at Draco and then raised an eyebrow. “Coming dressed as an angel is a bold sort of statement, don’t you think?”
“I’m not a bloody…oh, forget it.” Draco huffed and then gestured for Severus to follow the others to the ballroom. “I suppose we should join the party. Merlin only knows what Potter is doing left to his own devices.”
“Indeed.” With a grimace, Severus moved ahead of Draco and entered the room where he looked around and promptly found a seat in a secluded corner and opened his Firewhiskey.
“There you are.” Harry skidded towards Draco on the polished floor and came to a stop just next to him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a deep kiss, ignoring the snort from Severus.
“Here I am. Unhand me, Potter. Honestly. Must you always make a spectacle of me?” Draco smiled and held Harry close nonetheless. He was warm and tasted of fruit punch and brandy and in all honesty Draco was perfectly happy in his arms.
“I do wish you wouldn’t slobber all over each other quite so much in public.” Severus pulled a face and Draco smirked when he heard Weasley mutter something about agreeing with Snape for once.
“What did you expect? It is our house warming, after all. We’re pretty happy and I for one have no qualms about showing the rest of the world.” Harry grinned and kissed Draco again, just on his ear and Draco closed his eyes for a moment as Harry nuzzled his neck, trying to resist the desire to drag him off to a quiet room somewhere and shag him senseless.
“I’m going to need more booze if you two plan to keep that up all night.” Weasley pulled a face as he looked at Harry and Draco and gestured to his glass of champagne which was already empty. Draco tried to hide his smile at that - Weasley had a tendency to get rather drunk whenever he spent time with Draco and Harry.
“I think we have some more champagne in storage - we ordered a truckload of the stuff, Malfoy insisted.”
“Yes, well it’s a good job I did at the rate your friends are downing the stuff like its pumpkin juice,” Draco defended himself. One could never have too much champagne on hand.
Harry rolled his eyes and winked at Weasley. “Shall I go and get some more, then?”
“No need. I already feel like a house elf and I can’t risk you tripping over and breaking all of the bottles. It’s expensive stuff, you know” Draco had already seen Harry come close to spilling drinks on the guests several times that night and although he didn’t care if the punch got knocked on the floor, he certainly didn’t want to waste decent fizz.
“Expensive is it? What a surprise.”
“I didn’t hear any complaints.” Draco nodded at the empty glass in Weasley’s hand and then kissed Harry on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.”
Draco rolled his eyes at Weasley’s parting shot and resisted the urge to punch him in the nose. As he left the room and the sound of laughter and music faded behind him, he was quite sure he could hear Granger asking Harry is Draco still had nightmares about the Manor. He glared with renewed vigour as he walked outside to the stone building which he and Harry used for storage. Neither of them was particularly fond of the cellars. He hoped Harry didn’t tell his friends too many details about that sort of stuff. It was all rather embarrassing after all.
The door creaked as he pushed it open. The inside of the building was dark and there were enough spider webs in the corners to make him wish for a decent house-elf once again, but he took care of it with a few well-placed Cleaning Charms and a Lumos. As he stood contemplating the different sorts of champagne and what would go best with the food they were offering, he heard a dragging sound outside, like someone was too lazy to lift his feet off the ground to walk. He remembered what his father had had to say about that when Draco had done the same thing as a boy and shook his head. Probably Weasley coming to find out if Draco was crying like a Hufflepuff yet because the dark was getting to him.
He snorted to himself and picked out two bottles before he went back outside, sarcastic remark at the ready. He frowned when he saw no one was in his immediate vicinity. The path to the house was illuminated by the light from the windows and he could hear the chatter of the guests and the music, but underneath it all was still the slow, dragging motion. He turned in a circle, not wanting to go inside before he had solved the mystery and then stopped halfway through the motion, barely noticing the sound the bottles made as they shattered on the hard floor.
His wand was in his hand before he could make the conscious decision to draw it, pointed at the figure stumbling towards him. At first he had thought it might be a confused guest who had imbibed on too much liquor, but the movements were too regular, too coordinated for that. He couldn’t see the person’s face, only a shadowy outline, but something about them seemed familiar.
“Identify yourself!”
Draco was proud that his voice sounded steadier than he had expected, but the feeling quickly vanished when the intruder just kept moving towards him, not pausing or faltering once.
“I mean it, one more step and Crucio will sound like a blessing.”
The threat was empty as Draco didn’t plan to use any Unforgivables and he didn’t know a lot of curses more painful than Crucio at any rate, but he certainly did plan to defend himself if it came to that.
He was just trying to decide what hex to use when the clouds that had turned the night pitch black before revealed the moon and with it, the identity of the trespasser.
Draco froze.
It couldn’t be. There was absolutely no possible explanation for this to be happening, but if he trusted something it was his own eyes.
“F- Father?”
The sound his father made wasn’t like anything Draco had ever heard before. He could see the skin on his father’s face peeling in places, his eye sockets hollow and his movements lumbered. He advanced towards Draco a macabre sort of grin on his rotting face and Draco stood rooted in place, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He wondered if this was another dream, if perhaps Harry’s warm arms would wrap around him and everything would be alright again. Draco wanted to cast whatever spell he could at the advancing creature but the fact it wore his father’s face made him unable to do anything other than stare.
After a long moment Draco found he could move his feet, that they weren’t rooted to the spot as they always seemed to be in his nightmares. He turned and ran towards the house, towards the light and the laughter - to Harry.
Harry was where Draco had left him, chatting to Ron and Hermione and laughing with his friends. The laughter stopped as Draco entered and Harry and Draco’s eyes met. Harry rushed towards him swiftly enough to make Draco wonder what he looked like, embarrassed for his own trembling in front of Weasley, Severus and the other guests.
“What’s wrong?” Harry rested his hand on Draco’s arm and looked at him, his face etched with concern. Draco felt better just being close to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but he only got out a scratchy sound before he gave up and shook his head. He raised his eyes to Harry’s and saw they were full of emotion as Harry met Draco’s gaze with an intensity usually reserved for more private moments and when he spoke again his voice was barely more than a whisper. “Draco, whatever it is, we can deal with it. We always can.”
It was the ‘we’ that brought some semblance of order into Draco’s thoughts and he nodded.
“Outside…”
Harry’s eyes flickered to the door Draco had just come through. “What? What’s outside?”
“My… My father,” Draco said, meeting Harry’s eyes with a helpless expression.
“Don’t be daft, Malfoy, your father is dead,” Weasley, who had obviously been listening in spoke up and Draco felt the almost peaceful privacy of the moment between himself and Harry shatter, as he became aware of the guests listening to his every word. He raised his eyes and he could see expressions ranging from disbelief to pity. No doubt everyone thought Draco was losing his marbles.
“Shut up, Ron,” Harry replied without looking at him. Draco could see he was torn between running outside and staying with Draco. He clutched at Harry’s arm. Harry nodded as if understanding and took Draco’s hand before he turned to Weasley.
“Harry?” Weasley had the grace to look a little uncertain now at the cool, worried look on Harry’s face.
“You know this place, Ron. It’s full of dark magic. You’re an Auror, you know weird things can happen better than most.” Harry ran his hand through his hair and then pulled Draco close to him.
“Could you take a look outside - let me know if you see anything?”
Weasley rolled his eyes, but his friend’s voice was strained enough for him to do what he said - Draco grudgingly gave him credit for being a loyal friend - and he pulled back a curtain to look outside, several of Harry and Draco’s friends watching him curiously.
“There’s nothi- Bloody hell!”
Weasley jumped back, but he was a little too late and the shards from the shattering glass cut him across his right arm and his cheek.
Screams pierced the air as Draco’s father climbed into the room, the jagged edges of the broken window not seeming to slow him down. Where they cut him no blood appeared. In the bright light of the ballroom, Draco could see what he had already distantly noticed outside: His father’s skin had a greenish quality to it instead of the aristocratic pallor Draco was used to seeing and his eyes were bloodshot, his clothes torn and crusted with dirt. When he flashed his teeth at the hysteric crowd with a grin, Draco could see they were rotting away inside his mouth. But the most distinct feature were his eyes. Draco had seen them narrowed in rage, closed with pain as he was tortured and alit with a disturbing sense of caring when he looked at Draco after the war, but he had never seen them empty. His father might be a lot of things, but stupid he had never been. This wasn’t the man who had raised him; this was a creature incapable of human thought and understanding.
Draco shivered and clung to Harry’s hand more tightly to keep him from joining a bleeding Weasley, Finnegan and a few other Aurors in attendance who had formed a half circle in front of the guests to protect them from harm as more figures climbed in after Lucius. Draco didn’t recognise them all, but he thought he could make out a few Death Eaters he had believed to be dead, along with Mr Ollivander, Charity Burbage and several other of the Dark Lord’s victims. He swallowed when he remembered the faint images from his nightmare.
“Harry… They’re all supposed to be dead.”
Draco could see Harry nodding grimly out of the corners of his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Draco, but I have to help… The spells aren’t doing any good.”
Draco could see Harry was right when he looked back to the Aurors. They were flinging spells and curses at their attackers, but nothing seemed to keep them at bay for more than a few seconds. People had started running from the room as the zombies - because that was what they were, Draco realised - advanced slowly and the Aurors backed away.
“Yes, you’re right,” Draco decided. “But I’m not letting you go alone.”
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Draco threw him a glare, already having expected it, and Harry just gave a resigned nod and squeezed his hand before he let go.
“Alright then. Any Dark Arts knowledge that might come in handy here?”
Draco shrugged and recounted the little he knew about zombies. “They smell?”
Harry gave a snort as they joined the Aurors, taking position next to Weasley, who was still bleeding from the deep cut in his cheek. “To think I ever believed you were evil. We’ll just spray them with
deodorant, then. I’m sure that’ll show them.”
“Shut up, Potter,” Draco said, cutting off Peter Pettigrew’s good arm with the nasty curse he had learned in a filthy bathroom in sixth year. It seemed like a very long time ago. “You could always just throw Muggle artefacts at them, I’m sure that will help.”
“Hey!” Harry protested. “The Aurors aren’t doing any good either!”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mate,” Ron growled from Harry’s other side, using a series of, Draco had to admit, rather impressive spells to bind three of the more vicious zombies together, causing them to fall over and bite at each other. They were free again soon enough, but it was a temporary distraction that gave the other Aurors a quick reprieve.
“Sorry, Ron,” Harry said with a trace of guilt. Draco rolled his eyes. It had been true after all, the Aurors weren’t doing any good.
Killing the zombies was impossible since they were already dead and spells and curses other than Slashing and Stabbing Hexes seemed to only have a temporary effect on them, so the only way to fight them was to incapacitate them by hacking away at them in a rather distasteful manner. Draco wrinkled his nose and stepped over a foot to cut a house elves’ head off. He thought he recognised it from his childhood.
So far he had stayed away from the people he’d had a closer connection to and tried not to put names and personalities to the rotting bodies; he suspected the others had done the same. He knew they couldn’t go on like this forever when he spotted his father amongst them again. This was already hard enough and despite his light remarks, he could feel he was only holding on by a thread.
Something had to give and soon.
“Retreat!”
Draco wasn’t sure who the command had come from, but he was quick to follow It, tugging at Harry’s hand to get him to abandon his position. He knew Harry hated giving up, but eventually he let Draco drag him away, firing off more useless curses as they slowly backed away. Draco had considered using spells he hadn’t used in years, but he was hesitant with the Aurors around and he didn’t want to disappoint Harry.
He felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him backwards and he followed, with Harry as Severus began to murmur spells, his wand trained on the zombies.
“What are you doing?” Harry eyed Severus with suspicion and Draco would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire.
“What nobody else seems prepared to.”
“Which is?”
Draco rolled his eyes at Harry and shook his head. “There are dead people trying to kill us in this room, I think you should just let him get on with it, Harry.” Draco tried to keep the panic out of his voice.
“Thank you, Draco.” Severus smirked for a moment and then turned to Harry to respond to his question, his voice tight and clipped. “Mind control.”
“Imperius?” Harry watched Severus and wrinkled his nose when Severus nodded. “Then what?”
“In order to terminate their existence permanently we need to understand why they rose in the first place. If you call your lapdogs back and let me work I can at least control them for the time being.” Severus looked at Harry who continued to watch him. “Now, Potter!”
“They’re Aurors, Snape, not my lapdogs.”
“Harry…” Draco’s tone was a warning and Harry turned to him and then nodded once.
“Fine.” Harry raised his voice to get Kingsley’s attention. Draco thought it was unlikely the Minister would take commands, even from Harry, but apparently he had underestimated just how highly valued Harry’s opinion was. That or Kingsley was as exhausted as the Aurors fighting alongside him looked. Draco thought he could still see blood trickling down from the wound on Weasley’s cheek and several of the others were hurt as well.
“Protect the guests,” Snape said to Kingsley when he stopped to speak to them. “For the most part they appear to have taken refuge elsewhere in the Manor. Some of them ran, but a lot stayed to fight in case you couldn’t manage on your own.”
Kingsley gave a terse nod and waved for the Aurors to follow him. He looked at Harry. “Will you be okay?”
Harry drew himself up to his full height and Draco saw the Harry he remembered from the war, his shoulders tense as he prepared to fight a battle he didn’t want to be part of in the first place. “I’ll be fine. But you should go and help the others. The zombies are everywhere. Imperius is the only thing which keeps them under control.”
Kingsley nodded and left the room, taking a number of the Aurors with him. Draco, Severus and Harry were alone, with Weasley, Longbottom, Finnegan and Granger working on the other end of the room.
“Severus?” Draco looked over at Severus whose face was pinched white, with the exertions of keeping the zombies under control.
“I’m fine. I can control them for a while. We have to find out what is causing this… condition though and soon.”
Harry gave Draco a panicked look behind Severus’ back, but when he answered his voice was smooth and sure. Draco wondered if that was how he had fooled people into thinking he knew what he was doing before he had defeated the Dark Lord.
“We’ll find out. Just keep them under control for a few more minutes. Make them walk back to where they came from or something.”
Snape looked like he wanted to say something insulting, but was too busy so Draco took care of it for him. The man had just saved them from a lot of trouble after all.
Draco snorted. “That wouldn’t accomplish anything, we have to get rid of them permanently.” He tried to avoid looking at his father, but he couldn’t help a quick glance. The sight was almost more disturbing than before.
“Fine! You suggest something then!”
“We can just… just…” Draco looked around for a clue and was about to admit he had no idea what to do when Granger came towards them. She had a graze on her arm and her cheeks were flushed from the exertions of trying to keep the zombies at bay. She looked stressed, her hair was frizzier than it had been at the beginning of the night as she spoke quickly to the three men.
“Kingsley sent his Patronus to Ron - the other guests are fine, they healed what injuries they could and the other Aurors are using Imperius to keep the zombies at bay. Now what are we going to do about the mask?”
Harry looked relieved at the first part, but frowned along with Draco at her last sentence.
“What mask?”
Granger gave them a disbelieving look and pointed to the mask that Draco had found in his father’s study. The eyes of the mask had turned green and the glow had started to spread around the room. Draco couldn’t believe neither he or Harry or Severus for that matter had noticed, but he supposed warding off zombie attacks didn’t help one’s attention span. “It’s Dark magic. Can’t you feel it? Are you telling me neither of you noticed?”
“Damn it, Father!”
“Look at my mask, isn’t it pretty? It raises the dead.” Harry turned to glare at Draco.
Draco grinned when a zombie swatted Harry over the head and rounded on Severus. He hadn’t had a pithy reply ready anyway.
Harry rubbed his head, grimacing. “You’re supposed to have them under control!”
“Oh, my apologies. My concentration slipped for a moment.” Severus gave Harry a faux apologetic look as he lazily continued to direct his wand at the zombies, the action hardly taking any effort at all anymore.
“Oh I bet it bloody did, you git.” Harry glared and then looked at Granger with pleading eyes. “What do we do to stop it?”
“This is how you killed a Dark Lord?” Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry and nodded to Granger. “Ask your friends what to do and then take all the credit?”
“It wasn’t like that at all you irritating prat, I saved you, didn’t I?” Harry glared at Draco and then looked back to Hermione. “Seriously though. What do we do?”
“I think it’s the eyes…” Hermione looked at the mask and then shook her head slowly as she aimed her wand at the mask and tried a spell which caused the zombies to lurch dangerously as Severus cursed under his breath. “It doesn’t look like a spell will do it…Perhaps we need something like we used for the Horcruxes?”
“Potter could always use Expelliarmus if you’re in doubt.” Severus waved his wand again as one of the zombies began to dance a little like a puppet on a string.
“Shut it, Snape!” Harry glared at Severus and Draco tried to hide a smirk as he looked at Hermione.
Hermione pointed to a large sword, displayed on the wall. “We have the sword of Gryffindor, perhaps that would do it?”
“Sounds like that would do the trick.” Longbottom, who had walked over, nodded and then removed his wand. With a quick Accio the sword flew into his hand and he took a swing at the mask. The metal sliced through the wooden mask effortlessly as the eyes glowed a brighter green and a blast of light filled the room, causing Draco to close his eyes as it got too bright. When he opened them again, the broken mask was on the floor, a crack going right through the middle, and the zombies had disappeared. Everything was silent for a moment, like no one could quite believe it was really over.
“Oh well done, Neville!” Hermione let out a delighted laugh and gave Neville a hug.
“He’s always stealing your thunder, Potter. It must get very frustrating.” Draco felt an enormous sense of relief now his father wasn’t lumbering around their ballroom, smelling like the grave.
Harry actually looked disgruntled for a moment and then he laughed. “I’ll live. Maybe not being the hero for once will be good for me.” He pondered it for a moment and then added. “I could even go evil…”
Draco shook his head, gravely. “You don’t have what it takes, Potter.”
Harry smiled and kissed him, mumbling against his lips “Neither do you, prat.”
Draco knew they would all walk away with some additional nightmares after this, but he was even more certain Harry would always be there to chase them away for him.
~Fin~