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The Stag and The Snake	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9713 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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Chapter 6 – Spellbound

It was a relief to Draco that Bill seemed to be taking this more seriously than his younger siblings, at least. Barely twenty four hours later he received an owl from Remus with a short note, same time, same place. Draco felt his heart clench and breath hitch.

“This came out of my fireplace this morning,” Remus said that evening, pushing a slightly scorched scroll of parchment across the table towards Draco. With mildly trembling hands, he picked it up and unrolled it.

Remus & Draco,

I'm so glad to hear Harry is alive! I'm sure everyone will be thrilled when this gets sorted and he can come home. As for your request, I have heard of that curse. I don't know a lot about it, and the references to it are sketchy at best.

Basically, Anima Specula Maledictum is a complex curse that reflects a person's soul, forcing it to take physical form outside the light of the moon. It is bound to the soul of the caster by an unrequited love or desire. Whoever cast this clearly wants Harry bound to them, but Harry is obviously resisting.

There are a few ways to break it, but it's an extremely delicate process. The easiest, at least for Harry, would be to give in to this person's advances. The curse would dissolve and he would be free. But if he is unfaithful to the person in question, the curse will reform or kill him—the literature isn't exactly clear on that part.

The next option you have is a public proclamation. This would involve someone (Draco, I assume) proclaiming his love for Harry in a public space, and Harry reciprocating. If everything is consensual, the curse should dissolve. However, if Draco were to do the same proclamation to the caster, it is likely that Harry would die. If the proclamation is interrupted in some way, Harry may die. It is unclear whether he drops dead on the spot or if it's more drawn out. I honestly don't know what to expect on that front.

The last option you have is to kill the caster. In my readings from my private library and in asking some other curse breakers (I used no names, don't worry) this is the most sure-fire way to break the curse. Obviously, I can't imagine either of you relish the idea of offing someone, no matter what they have done. I'll keep looking to see what else I can find, but as far as I know those are the most common ways to break this curse.

I hope things work out, keep me updated on your plans. I'll do what I can to help.
Bill

Draco looked up from the scroll, and frowned. “This is good news. Why do you look like somebody died?” Remus hesitated, looking away from him for a moment.

“Sirius, ah, put two and two together.” Remus paused and looked back to Draco. He noticed that the older man did look more drained than usual. “He was not exactly pleased that we kept this from him.” The way the corner of Remus's mouth twitched gave Draco the impression that he was deliberately understating Sirius's reaction.

Draco could not help but laugh a little, “pitched a fit, didn't he?”

“You have no idea.”

The following evening, Draco stood outside Sirius and Remus's building, rocking on his heels as he braced himself to head inside. His fingers brushed over his wand in his pocket, a shield charm at the ready, and knowing Sirius, he'd probably need it.

He and Remus had agreed that keeping Sirius out of any further discussions would be unfair, now that he'd figured out what they'd been up to. Nevertheless, Draco was no stranger to the man's very Gryffindor way of taking on the world, in particular, reacting without thinking. The last thing he wanted was the man to jinx him before he had a chance to explain everything.

After taking one last steadying breath, he ascended the stone steps, unlocked the front door, and headed up to their flat. The walk seemed much longer than usual to Draco, and when he knocked on their door it opened to reveal a very apprehensive-looking Remus. Clearly, Sirius was still a little upset about their secrecy. They stared at each other in a moment of tense silence, before Draco stepped over the threshold and slipped inside.

“Where's Harry?” Draco turned his head and saw Sirius glaring at him, his arms crossed and his shoulder leaning against the far wall. Sirius was glaring daggers at him, but he held his ground and stared right back.

“I can't tell you that,” Draco replied as calmly as he could manage. Sirius's eyes narrowed at Draco's response.

“Can't or won't?”

“Fine, won't.” Draco smiled bitterly, watching Sirius's rage bubble up like magma in a volcano.

“He's my godson,” Sirius snarled, striding forward and grabbing the front of Draco's robes. He kept his face neutral. He felt that reacting to the man's rage would only make things worse. “I have a right to know where he is!”

“It's for Harry's safety that I'm not telling you, Sirius!” Draco yelled, matching his tone while he quietly marveled at Sirius's thickheadedness. He wrenched himself out of his grip and took a small step backward. “Think for once in your damn life. What almost always happens when the kidnapper knows someone is getting close to finding their captive?” He glared, but plowed forward, not waiting for a response. “They kill their victim, or move him elsewhere! Do you really want to see Harry dead?” Sirius didn't answer, but continued to glare at him. “Well?” Draco saw him deflate slightly, but the anger never left his eyes.

“You're right. I hate it, but you're right.” Sirius growled out the words and refused to meet the gaze of Draco or Remus. An awkward silence followed, Draco and Remus exchanging worried looks while they waited for Sirius to calm down.

“This curse...” Sirius said suddenly, though his tone was still little more than a growl, “what do we know about it?” He looked over to Remus, then reluctantly shifted his gaze to Draco.

“We know some, but this curse fell into disuse some three hundred years ago, and it was more common in places like Eastern Europe than it ever was here.” Remus replied in a slightly apprehensive tone, eyeing Sirius nervously. “We have some information from Bill Weasley about it, but I'd feel more comfortable finding more about it before we test out any of these supposed methods to break it. Chances are, we'll only have one shot to get this right, and I don't want to risk Harry's safety by being too hasty.”

“Well,” Sirius said, his tone finally relaxing into a tone that was almost amused. “If you had told me what you two were up to earlier,” he shot another glare at Draco. “There is a place I know that has a complete library of Dark Arts.” He looked from Draco to Remus, as though trying to get them to guess. When they said nothing, he simply said two words, “Grimmauld Place.”

~*~
Draco hadn't come. Harry looked up sadly to the crescent moon, bright stars dotting the velvet dark of the night sky all around it. He had forgotten how lonely it could be out here. He sighed audibly, and flopped back into the cushioning of the thick grass and wildflowers. Their scent was gentle and not cloying, and he wondered if he'd ever associate floral smells with anything good, assuming he ever managed to escape. Harry folded his arms above his head in a makeshift pillow, and allowed his mind to drift.
Harry couldn't remember nodding off, but when he woke he could feel someone's palm pressing against his abdomen, caressing the flesh under his robes in gentle circles. His eyes fluttered open and he turned, hoping to see Draco. His breath caught in his throat, and he scrambled away from Snape, whose pleasantly amused expression shifted immediately to an angry glare. Harry stood up slowly, his limbs shaking a little from the shock. The enraged older man strode forward, Harry matching his steps by moving backward as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, Harry's rapid retreat seemed to be exactly what Snape had been hoping for, and he felt himself back directly into a tree. The old Potions Master pressed his palms into the bark on either side of his head, effectively caging Harry in. “What did you think, hmm?” Snape purred, his face barely an inch from his own. Harry shuddered. “That your silver prince would swoop in and rescue you from me?” He chuckled, and Harry stared back at him, doing his best to keep from showing the man how deeply the words cut. “I hold your fate, Potter. If you are to be freed from the curse, it will be by my hand, and no one else.” He leaned in closer, and Harry pressed himself harder into the tree trunk, but Snape was too close. Harry couldn't escape.

Snape's hot breath ghosted across Harry's mouth, his lips parted slightly as he gasped, just short of hyperventilating as he tried to control his panic. The fear in him seemed to amuse Snape, and the man chuckled softly before he kissed Harry with bruising force. Harry groaned and squirmed, lifting his arms to push Snape away, but the man seemed to sense what Harry was trying to do, and Snape wrapped his hands around his wrists and pressed them back into the bark. Harry felt Snape's leg press between his knees, and a fresh wave of panic almost overwhelmed him. Oh God, Harry thought, He's actually gonna do it. He pulled harder at his wrists, his heart beating out a tattoo in his chest. At that moment, Snape chuckled against his mouth, and stepped back. Relief that he had stopped and the residual panic from the ordeal utterly exhausted him, and Harry slid down to crumple at the base of the tree.

Cold fingertips pressed against Harry's chin, forcing his gaze upwards. “You're mine, Potter. No one will save you, not this time.” Another kiss ghosted over his lips, and Harry was too drained to fight it. Snape spun on his heel and disapparated in a flurry of black robes. The moment Harry knew he had gone, he pulled his knees up close to his chest, and pressed his forehead into his thighs, his arms hugging himself as he tried to quell his trembling.

Harry felt dirty. Violated. Snape had never come that close to rape before. The word made Harry shiver. It was in that moment that he realized that regardless what had happened in the past five years, he still viewed rape as something that could only happen to a girl. He never thought that it could happen to him. But it will. It's only a matter of time. Harry felt another tremor run through him at the thought.

Harry wasn't sure exactly how long he sat like that, but when he felt a warm hand touch his, his breath hitched and he lurched back from the touch in a blind panic, realizing too late that it was Draco. He stared at Harry with wide, surprised eyes, and Harry stared back, trying to reign in the fear that had all but consumed him for the better part of the night.

“I—sorry,” Harry mumbled, breathing deeply as he tried to calm himself down. “Snape, he—” Harry shook his head, and another shudder coursed through him. Draco stepped forward, and knelt before Harry, watching him with the cool reserved expression he had gotten so good at during their Hogwarts years.

“May I touch you, Harry?” The question seemed odd to him. Why would Draco bother asking that? Harry nodded tentatively, and Draco laced his fingers with his, pressing their hands together palm to palm. Harry felt a warm, soothing calm wash over him. Draco pulled Harry into a tight embrace, and he buried his face into the crook of Draco's neck.

“He says you'll never come for me,” Harry said softly, “but you always do.” Draco cradled Harry's chin, much like Snape had earlier, but his touch was gentle, warm, and welcomed. Draco kissed him gently, then the pair fell into the flowers, stretching out until they lay side by side. Harry on his back watching the night sky, while Draco on his side watching Harry.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asked, his thumb brushing over the back of Harry's hand gently.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I just...” he trailed off, and gritted his teeth. “He just makes me feel so weak. I can't defend myself magically or physically against him. I'm wandless, and he's bigger than me. I hate it.” Harry felt a burning in the corners of his eyes, and he cursed under his breath, pressing his thumb and index fingers into the corners of his eyes. “Dammit,” he hissed under his breath, breathing slow in an attempt to calm his flaring emotions.

“You aren't weak. You never could be weak. It takes great strength to deny someone like you have. Even in the face of...bodily harm, you never gave in to him. You should be proud.” Draco shimmied closer to Harry, and planted a feather-light kiss against his temple. “But, I actually came with some news tonight, that's why I'm late.”

Harry leaned in to the brief touch, and smiled a little. “Good thing you did, considering Snape decided to spend an extra-long time harassing me this evening.” He shifted his gaze to Draco, smiling faintly in an attempt to hide his self-loathing from his lover. “What news do you have?”

“Bill got back to us pretty fast, and there seems to be a couple ways that might work to break the curse.” Draco paused, a hesitant look on his face, “but if we screw them up, you'll die. So Sirius is taking us to his parents' house, apparently they've got a pretty extensive Dark Arts library.” Harry had unlaced his fingers from Draco's and was absently trailing them across the back of the young man's hand while he listened, shocked at himself that he didn't feel more excited by this information. “We're gonna see if we can cross-check what Bill told us, and if it all works out...” Draco trailed off. Harry felt as though it didn't need saying.

Harry didn't want to get his hopes up, but he couldn't help feeling nervously excited at the thought that his freedom might just be beyond the horizon. “Extensive is an understatement. Sirius took me there once, just after his mother died, I had nightmares for weeks.” He shuddered at the memory, and Draco inched closer.
Like the previous evenings, they lay together and talked, or kissed. Harry longed to do more than just kiss, a sentiment Draco obviously shared, but neither boy dared risk it—what if Snape decided to show up in the middle of the night? There was no telling what he might do.

Just before sunrise, Harry bid goodbye to Draco. Harry was grateful that he seemed to understand that he hated being seen in his stag form, and Draco was always careful to leave before it took him. Even so, saying goodbye each dawn was getting harder. “I'll see you soon?” Harry murmured against Draco's mouth, his arms curled around his lover's waist.

“I hope so.” Draco kissed him one last time, turned, and hurried out of the meadow.

Harry watched him go and not a moment too soon, as he felt his knees buckle and his breath hitch as the change took him again.

~*~
“Gimmauld Place? More like grim old place.” Draco wrinkled his nose as he looked up at the dark, dumpy house.
“Why do you think I left at sixteen?” Sirius gave Draco a dirty look. “It's mine, technically, not that I come here much. But my delightful parents have an extensive collection of books on the Dark Arts. Short of checking the Restricted Section at Hogwarts, its the best I can think of.” Sirius headed up to the door, with Remus and Draco on his heels. He hesitated for a moment and looked back at the pair. “Don't touch anything. Assume everything can kill you.” Draco arched a brow, but didn't respond. It was slightly unnerving to see Sirius so serious, especially about a house, of all things. After a moment of staring Draco down, he turned back to the door and gave it a sharp tap with his wand.

Draco listened to a series of sharp lock clicks. The charms relented to Sirius, and the three were admitted. Inside was as grim and miserable as the outside, and Draco opened his mouth to say something, only to find a hand clap over his mouth. He glared at Remus, who had a finger pressed urgently to his lips. He nodded a little, and pushed the hand away. Silently, Sirius led them on tip-toe through a sitting room, kitchen, and finally to a blank expanse of wall adjacent to the dining room. Sirius tapped the wall twice, and a wooden door appeared, black paint peeling from the nearly rotted wood. It swung open at the faintest touch, and Sirius led them inside.

The second the door shut behind them, Sirius let out a sigh, flicked his wand, and several lamps fixed into the walls ignited. The illuminated library wasn't much better than how it looked in the near-total darkness. Draco had to admit, it was an impressive collection, though it had nothing on the Malfoy library. Wooden desks and tables caked in dust and grime were scattered around the large space, with row upon row of towering bookcases. Morbid bookends divided the subjects, from jars of what looked like baby teeth to cat skulls preserved in spheres of glass.

“Pick a shelf,” Sirius said grimly, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here. “And keep your wands out. My parents were paranoid bastards.”

While Draco was certain Sirius had been exaggerating, he valued his own hide enough to follow his suggestion. This was a good thing, as the first book he picked up seemed to be imbibed with some sort of snake venom, and it scorched the skin of his palms the moment he touched it. It took Draco several minutes and three vials of antivenom from Remus before he had fully recovered. He resumed his search, though with significantly more caution, as well as a pair of dragonhide gloves.

The library was silent, save for the occasional shout as they came across a book with a curse attached to it, or one that had a tendency to bite its reader. It was another hour before any of them found anything useful. Remus's excited cry shattered the silence, “Sirius! Draco! I think I've got something!” Draco dropped Seven Habits of Highly Effective Curses onto the nearby table, and hurried towards the sound of Remus's voice.

Draco skidded to a halt just short of crashing into Sirius, and Remus elbowed between them and dropped a thick volume onto the table nearby. He ignored the cloud of dust he created, and began flicking hastily through the tissue-paper thin pages. Draco observed, with a small smile that Sirius had rested a hand on the small of Remus's back, and was absently toying with the loose threads of his worn jumper. The couple were never very affectionate in public, and it warmed Draco's heart to see, though he tried to ignore the pang of jealousy he felt at the sight. It made him long for Harry all the more.

“Ah, yes, here it is!” Remus stepped back a little so the other two could lean in and read.

Of the many curses born of unrequited affection, none are viewed with more disdain than Anima Speculo Maledictum. Falling out of common use during the seventeenth century, it is still widely used by dark witches and wizards in northern climes; Russia, Scandinavia, Canada, Greenland, ect.

The breaking of such an intricate curse must be undertaken by highly skilled wizards, as any mistake during its invocation can be fatal to the afflicted party. The most common method used is a public proclamation of devotion for the afflicted. The proclamation must be genuine and consensual, any feigned emotion will result in the spell failing, or in worst-case scenarios, the death of the afflicted.

The proclamation must take place before an audience, and detail the curse-breaker's most heartfelt desires for the afflicted. A promise of a future Bonding ceremony of some kind will strengthen the spell, though it is not always necessary.

If a proclamation cannot be performed, killing the caster of the curse will usually reverse its effects. Studies indicate that depending on the form the afflicted's Speculo takes, as well as the duration of the curse may play a part in how they are affected following the death of the caster. Certain accounts detailed the afflicted experiencing weakness or a brief comatose state following their death, while others were completely unaffected.

The most uncommon method of removing Speculo is the afflicted reciprocating the affections of the caster. It is ill-advised to attempt to hoodwink the curse by feigning love for the caster, and this course of action is often fatal for the afflicted.

The few paragraphs were followed by a lot of mathematical equations and graphs explaining the curse in further detail. Draco pulled back, uncertain of what exactly he was feeling. They had answers, finally. But why wasn't he more excited?

“Well,” Sirius said, “it definitely matches up with Bill's information. What do we do now?”

“Does it say what I'm supposed to say at this proclamation?” Draco leaned forward again, but Remus frowned as he skimmed over the page again.

“Not that I can see. I suppose the authors were romantics, and believe it should come from the heart or something.” He flicked through a few more pages, but Remus shook his head again. “We'll need to keep looking, I think, before we decide. But I think this proclamation seems to be our best option. What Severus has done is unforgivable, but I don't think killing him is the answer.”

“Damn tempting though,” Draco chuckled a little at Sirius's response, and Remus smiled a little, though he didn't answer that one.

They descended the stairs from Grimmauld Place several hours later, wads of parchment and a few select volumes under their arms. Had they been less jovial and more observant, they may have noticed a skulking figure in the shadows, muttering to himself. “Too close, they're getting too close...” he murmured, moments before disapparating.

~*~
The sharp crack of someone apparating nearby caused Harry's head to snap up in alarm. It was not yet late afternoon, and yet he saw Snape striding towards him, robes billowing out on either side as he came forward. Harry stood, pawing the ground nervously. Snape reached him, and lifted a hand to stroke the soft fur against the side of his throat. He stamped the ground angrily and tossed his head, but like so many times before, didn't dare attack.
“It seems your boyfriend and his mutts are cleverer than I gave them credit for.” Harry's animalistic gaze met Snape's, his eyes wide. Does he know? Harry wondered, while Snape approached him again, and allowed his captor to pet him, though the contact made him shiver. “I'll need to keep a closer eye on them. Draco will not claim you.” Harry felt his eyes bulge and his body reared as Snape twisted, dragging him into the suffocation of Side-Along Apparition.

~*~
“Damn it,” Draco stumbled, his foot catching in an upturned root. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the aftereffect of his apparition, a memory of constriction he couldn't seem to shake. Under his arm he held the heavy tome Sirius had lent him, stuffed with scraps of parchment of their note-taking and cross-referencing. It had almost made him feel like he was back at Hogwarts.
Re-orienting himself and unable to stifle the grin on his face, he hurried towards the meadow. He paused on its edge, but his smile faltered. It was empty. He swept his gaze over the entire circle again, but as with the first time he looked, it was devoid of his dark-haired lover. He stepped out tentatively. “Harry?” His voice sounded very loud in the stillness of the wood. Something felt very wrong. “Harry!” Draco cried, his voice echoing, but no response came.

For Gods' sake, am I a wizard or not? He shook his head, and drew his wand.

“Homenum revelio.”

Nothing happened. No human presence. Draco fell to his knees and fisted his hair. Gone again.
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The Stag and The Snake