Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

For the Want of a Nail	By : thewickednix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4934 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. This is made for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Chapter 13. Another Bag of Bricks

Dinner is an awkward affair.
I bump Professor Dumbledore and the Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Madeye Moody in the hall on my way to the dining room. In fact I would've been thrown into a casket if I still were mortal, as Moody decides to test his theory that vampires indeed can be killed with spells. Dumbledore just chuckles cheerfully, calmly stating that it's probably safe to say that the theory failed.
Mundungus Fletcher arrives just as Mrs Weasley serves us the Shepherd's Pie. I fight the urge to tell Mrs Weasley to switch his silver cutlery into plastic ones. Maybe he wouldn't steal those.
They all chat merrily about inane things like one big family. Until of course, somebody remembers that I exist, and has to try and include me in the conversation. Each and every attempt ending in an awkward disaster that keeps everyone quiet for the next five minutes until they come up with a new subject. No one looks at me for more than a split seconds time, and everyone avoids looking at the empty table in front of me where my plate should be.
Of course, it's not really all that bad until Lupin arrives. Just like the last time, all the hair on my body is standing as soon as the werewolf walks through the front door. Despite the fact that I know I'm not supposed to slaughter my old professor, the vampire in me doesn't. Trying to keep the monster in me at bay, I look over to Potter on the other side of the table. He meets my gaze and I see realisation dawn on his face. "Malfoy..." he whispers, but with that my consciousness slips under the vampire's. With a snarl I rush up from my seat, knocking over both Tonks and Mr Weasley on the way. I make it to the dining room doors until I manage to get hold of myself.
Pushing myself away from the doors, I rush over to the oh, so familiar corner of the room. I lean back against the wall, my hands clenched so tight my nails are digging into my palms. Swallowing loudly several times, I manage to calm my breathing just in time to hear the doors open.
From the corner of my eye I watch Lupin check twice to make sure that I'm not attacking him before he enters. Unfortunately, that makes him linger by the door, far too close to me. "Would you- ...please... Would you just take a seat by the table?" I grit through clenched teeth at the professor who freezes like a deer in the headlights as I address him. "Yes. Yes, of course." Lupin mumbles, skitting to the table with a speed I would not have thought him to be capable of.
Eventually my breathing calms down and I am able to unclench my hands. I return to my seat between Mr Weasley and Tonks, still clenching my jaw in an effort not to roar at the werewolf on the opposite side of the table.
A terrified silence lays like carpet.

"So, shall we move on to the subjects of the evening?" Dumbledore's cheerful voice cuts through the thick silence like a hot knife through butter.
The meeting is adjourned in the living room while Mrs Weasley serves everyone tea. After serving Granger she turns to me. "Draco, would you like some-" When realising her mistake, she takes a deep breath, taking two steps back. "Oh."
The room grows dead silent for the second time this evening. The fact that something so small can break the mood so thoroughly is positively ridiculous. I myself am more appalled by the fact that Mrs Weasley dared think me so familiar as to call me by my first name, than the fact that she forgot I'd rather drink her blood than the tea. I look around in the silent room, locking eyes with Potter for a brief second before turning back to a terrified Mrs Weasley.
I plaster my most sincere polite fake smile onto my face. "No thank you, Mrs Weasley. Caffeine is not good for me."
The silence continues, until suddenly I hear a laugh from the other side of the room. I don't have to look to recognise Potter's clinging voice. He sits on the couch between Lupin and the Weasel, who both stare at him as if he is crazy. Well, I guess one can't be totally sane when laughing at a vampire.
I sneer wickedly at Potter, unable to put any real malice in my actions towards the laughing idiot. "Well, you know I have trouble sleeping."
Dumbledore's cough cuts off Potter's next laughing spree. "Excuse me, Draco. Maybe we could return to the actual topics?" Everyone nods in agreement and take their seats.
"As most of you already know, Kingsley examined the scene of the breakout, but didn't find any vital clues as to how it happened." He turns to give the word to Shacklebolt, but warning signals have gone off in my head. Breakout?

"What?" I croak. "What breakout?" I lock eyes with Potter, who suddenly looks very self-conscious. The others just turn to stare at me in surprise, Dumbledore being the first to speak.
"The breakout from Azkaban," he explains, seemingly startled that I'm asking about it. "A number of Death Eaters managed to escape from Azkaban two months ago. The whole wizarding world has been in disorder since then. Didn't you know about it?"
I shake my head in confusion. "No, I didn't. How would I have-" Oh. Realisation dawns on me as I turn towards Potter. "You. That's why you came here. With people breaking out from Azkaban, not even Hogwarts is safe." My voice is cool and collected, yet Potter shudders under my gaze. I want to scream at him. I want to hurt him. God, how I despise him in this moment. And yet I can only bite back my rage and turn back to Dumbledore. "Which were the Death Eaters that escaped?" I ask, though I fear I already know the answer.
The pity I see and despise in the Headmaster's eyes confirms my fears. "Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, as well as Rodolphus' brother Rabastan, Vincent Crabbe Sr and an old man named Caleb Ivanovic." He sighs deeply. "And Lucius."
I nod, not having expected anything else. Foolishly hoped, perhaps, but not expected. I shudder at the thought about Father, somewhere out there, searching for me. Merlin, I had forgotten the chilling sensation of having his shadow hanging over me. "How did they escape?"
"That is what we are trying to find out." Shacklebolt answers in Dumbledore's place. "The other prisoners were blinded by some unknown spell. They couldn't tell us much anything."
"And the Dementors?" I ask, barely paying attention, mind still wondering about said blinding spell. I look at the other peoples faces and immediately see the fear and discomfort my mentioning of the nightmarish guards of Azkaban has brought out. Shacklebolt, too, looks around, and looks much like he would like to end this conversation as quickly as possible. "They have left, to join You-Know-Who we can only presume." his deep voice utters, much in a fashion stating that the subject is thus concluded. Like I would give everyone such a pleasure.
"That is most likely," I mumble, mainly to myself, leaning back into my chair. Everyone seems to think the conversation is over, and hastily move on to discussing the protection of Muggles and Squibs against the Dark Lord. I listen only with half-a ear. What Shacklebolt said, something about a blinding curse, piqued my interest. Such hurtful spells are very rare, very dark. Technically it could be the work of any Death Eater, and yet something tells me it isn't. "What did the prisoners tell you about that night?" I ask Shacklebolt, drawing the uncomfortable silence into the room again.
"Uhm," the Auror swallows, seemingly caught off guard. "The outbreak happened just after visiting hours, at approximately 8 pm, and the prisoners seem to have been blinded sometime around 7.30. Most of them couldn't tell us anything though, the blindness seems to be permanent and makes them very disoriented. Many are so scarred by what happened that they refuse to eat."
"It's no less than what they deserve!" roars Moody, gaining a disapproving glance from Mrs Weasley. "They have to atone for what they have done! Have they earned pity or forgiveness for their crimes just because they are now blind?!"
Moody's words cut trough me like a knife. Suddenly all the pieces fit together. Blindness, distortion, nausea...

Forgiveness.

It all sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it?

"Father, please stop this!" you scream as you blindly crash into the furniture. You reach for where the table is, but suddenly it moves and you hear a beastly roar. A high pitched laughter echoes all around as you fight to escape from the monster in the darkness.
"Son, you must learn your lesson before you can be pardoned." your father's voice sounds form somewhere through the wild laughter. "Father!" you scream and try to make your way towards him, but laying on the floor in the darkness you find you cannot rise. The insane laugh grows louder and louder, closing in on you from every side, echoing in your ears, in your head until it becomes painful. You scream and feel a blow to your gut for your insolence.
Suddenly the laughter stops, and the silence is deafening. You hear a quiet trickle of water form somewhere, and suddenly the roar of waves surround you. "Father, I'm sorry!" you sob before the waves take you over, pulling you deeper and deeper down. The breath goes out of your lungs and violent nausea takes over. You feel so sick you think you will throw up your own intestines. And then there is that familiar cold, hollow laugh in the water. It surrounds you from every angle, suffocating you. You try to escape it to the surface, but you no longer know which way is up. You're sinking, sinking...
And suddenly it is over. You blink and find yourself on the drawing room floor, staring at your father's boots. There are no longer any wild beasts, no water apart from the tears wetting your cheeks. Your father bends down, grabbing your chin with a cold hand and lifting your face up.
"You are forgiven."
And he smiles.

___________________________________________________________________

"It's no less than what they deserve!" roars Moody, gaining a disapproving glance from Mrs Weasley. "They have to atone for what they have done! Have they earned pity or forgiveness for their crimes just because they are now blind?!" Hermione stares at Moody with disgust, I myself quite agree with the crazy old Auror. I'm just about to ask Hermione how she can side with murderers and rapists, when Ron tugs at my sleeve.
"Look, mate. What's up with the Ferret?" he whispers. I look to where he is pointing and see Malfoy sitting in his chair, on edge like he's sitting on needles. He stares at the floor without really seeing it, his hands gripping his knees frantically. I rise from the couch, ignoring Ron's surprised "Harry?".
"Malfoy?" I cross the floor, turning everyone else's attention towards the pale boy in the corner.
"What's wrong with him?" A loud crash follows Tonks' question as she drops the plate she was holding.
"Harry, what are you doing?" I squat down in front of Malfoy. Malfoy is paler than ever, his face stiff as if carved out of marble. But his hands are shaking, his sharp nails digging into the fabric of his trousers. "Malfoy?" I ask cautiously, waving my hand in front of his face. "Malfoy?!"
Suddenly his eyes focus, and he seems to come to his senses. He looks at my hand in front of his face and sneers at me. "Do you want me to bite off your hand, Potter?" In spite of his cold tone, I know there is no malice behind the words. While everyone behind me takes a sudden intake of breath, I just smile at the blonde. "Glad to have you back. Are you OK?"
He is quiet for a long moment before staring past me and addressing Shacklebolt again. "Do they have hallucinations?" It takes me a while to realise he is still taking about the prisoners. Shacklebolt too, apparently. He looks startled for a minute. "Uhm, yes, they do. How did you-"
But Moody cuts him off. "Crazy as kneazles on Prozac, each and every one!" He roars. Now it is Dumbledore's turn to silence Moody with a stern look. The professor turns to Malfoy with a furrowed brow. "Do you know this curse, Draco?"
I turn to look at Malfoy just as he straightens his posture and tightens his jaw, assembling his perfect Malfoy-mask. "Yes, the Venia curse. It's an old family charm. From the Black side, naturally - they are known for their dark spells." He looks out the window and sneers to himself. "My mother taught it to Father. He quite liked it."
Ron mutters something that sounds an awful lot like "Why am I not surprised?", but Malfoy silences him with a single glance. He stands up and walks past me to the window, standing with his back towards us. I stare at him in awe. There is just something in his being, his presence that demands everyone's undivided attention.
"It is not a simple blindness spell. The occurring blindness is just one of the symptoms." His voice is deep and somewhat quiet, and still it carries perfectly to everyone in the room. "Other symptoms are the hallucinations, distortion and a gut-turning nausea." Malfoy turns around, the sunset from outside creating a halo of light around him. He looks much like a fallen angel, foretelling the destruction of the human race. I shudder with foreboding. "You might hear voices, feel wild animals maul you to death or have an experience of drowning, all the while while the nausea tears your intestines apart. The hallucination changes constantly, and never for the better."
I look around the room and see disgusted faces all around me, Mrs Weasley looks much like she wouldn't want to hear anymore. Only Moody and Professor Dumbledore look unmoved, though all traces of cheerfulness have disappeared from the Headmaster's features.
Malfoy seems not to notice all of this, he only continues in that cold, impersonal, inhuman voice. "As I said, it is not a blindness spell in particular. It is a forgiveness-spell." He looks out into the room expectantly, but his words don't seem to lit any lights in anyone. Malfoy sighs and continues. "Piaculum Venia is a kind of punishment. It dissolves only when you are sorry for what you've done. Weird thing to use it on criminals though, since it's used particularly for chastising children."
At this Mrs Weasley gasps loudly, and everyone else looks just as horrified. "Children?!" Hermione exclaims in rage. "That's barbaric!" Everyone nods in agreement, only Malfoy looks completely unmoved. He only raises an eyebrow at Hermione. "Granger, it's a mean to teach obedience. Nothing more."
"Nothing more?!" a horrified Mrs Weasley shrieks, staring at Malfoy. "People who do such things should not be allowed to have children!" I turn to look at Malfoy, who seems genuinely surprised that everyone else is so appalled. He sighs and rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes. Do you want to hear what I know or not?"
"Yes, Molly, please let Draco finish," Dumbledore smiles at Mrs Weasley, who still looks like she would like to say a few chosen words to Malfoy. Malfoy casts a grateful look at Dumbledore before his face turns to stone again. "Anyway, it's been used in the Black family for as long as anyone can remember, and my mother taught it to Father when they married."
"So," Dumbledore murmurs, looking at Malfoy with a furrowed brow. "You believe that it was your father who cursed those prisoners?" Malfoy snorts at the Headmaster as if he were an utter fool.
"Well, one would think that," he drawls at everyone in the room for being idiots that did think that. "But you see, though it was one of Father's favourite curses, he could never quite master it." And then every emotion dies on his face. "Never quite like Mother."
- 12
- 13
- 14
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

For the Want of a Nail