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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
- 18
- 19
- 20
Chapter 7 – Phases

The tiny golden snitch glimmered in the low light of the dying fire. Draco held it up between his fingertips, watching the light refract off it. Rainbow patterns danced across the dark walls of his bedroom, illuminating the patterns of maroon and gold with their light. He sighed and opened his fingers, allowing the tiny piece of metal to tumble down into his palm. Draco closed his hand into a fist, and the metal bit into his hand. “Harry, where are you?” He closed his eyes, feeling his stomach clench as he fought down a fresh wave of guilt-ridden anguish. Where had they gone wrong? How did Snape find out that they were getting close? No answers came to him in the near dark—they never did.

A soft tapping on his door snapped Draco out of his daze. He turned to see his mother letting herself in, a thick scroll of parchment clasped in her hand. He sat up slowly, eyeing her suspiciously. His mother glared back, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Draco, I will not tolerate this ridiculous sulking. The Beltane Ball is in two days,” the corner of her mouth twitched, a telling reaction. Draco didn't need to guess what she was up to. “I'd like you to look over the guest list, see if I have forgotten anyone.”

“Come hell or high water, the Malfoys love a party,” Draco muttered darkly, glowering at Narcissa. “I've told you mother, I don't need you playing matchmaker. I don't need a husband.” I need Harry. He did not vocalize the thought, it would only lead to another argument.

“The Malfoy line must continue, Draco. Your father and I will not be around forever, and it's high time you settled down and stopped with this wild goose chase for a dead man.” She thrust the scroll at her son. Draco glared at it, and flicked his wand. It ignited, and Narcissa dropped it with a cry as it curled into ash long before it hit the floor.

“Now really,” she snapped angrily at Draco. “Those two have had a bad influence on you. I swear, you behave more and more like a Black and less like a Malfoy every day!” Draco assumed his mother had meant it as an insult, but he merely smirked. He stood up and strode towards his door, pausing only when his mother cried out shrilly at him again, “where do you think you're going young man? We are not finished!”

“I'm going flying,” Draco replied, amazed that he had managed to keep his voice so steady. “I can't be here anymore.” With that, he stalked off, his mother's angry cries following him all the way out of the manor.

~*~
Harry had no idea where he was, but that was nothing new. It was a dark forest, an old abandoned farmhouse and silo nestled amongst the trees, and the air felt heavy and humid. Harry could barely see the sky through the thick canopy of leafy trees above him, and it felt almost claustrophobic. It was warmer here, and Harry guessed that Snape had taken him farther south. He had said something about 'keeping an eye' on Draco, though he had no idea what that might mean for his lover. Was Snape planning on killing him? Harry shivered at the horrible thought.
Night had fallen several hours before, but Snape had not come to him yet. While this would normally come to Harry as something of a relief, that evening it felt more like an ill omen. What was his captor up to? Harry sat down on a large boulder that rested against a thick tree trunk, and pressed his thighs into his chest, resting his chin upon his knees. His arms coiled around his legs in a motion of an embrace, trying to comfort himself in a way he hadn't had to do in many months. It reminded him sickeningly of his youthful days in the hands of his blood relatives. No comfort, no love, only fear. Despite the warmth in the air, Harry felt a chill that seemed to reach his bones. He shivered.

A gentle hand rested upon his shoulder, and Harry spun, his eyes wide with hope, only to lurch away from the touch when he saw who it was. Harry's lip curled in disgust, and he quickly scrambled to his feet, taking another step back as Snape stepped forward. “Come now Harry, aren't we past all this?” He moved forward again, and Harry mirrored his steps. He turned quickly to make sure he wouldn't trap himself against a tree, but that small motion was his fatal mistake.

Harry's breath hitched in surprise and fear, as he felt a cold hand wrap around his wrist, the other resting on his waist. He turned and tried to pull his hand from the man's grip, but he only tightened his hold. Snape's expression was intensely focused upon him, watching him like a cat might watch a mouse. Harry tried to control his breathing, tried to glare back at his captor, but his panic intermingled with his despair made it nearly impossible to maintain any kind of composure. “You make my skin crawl,” Harry hissed, just barely managing to keep the tremor from his voice, “don't you know a lost cause when you see one? I'll never say 'yes' to you. Never.”

“Still waiting for the Slytherin in shining armour to come save you?” Snape sneered, jerking Harry's body closer to his own. “You're pathetic.” He shoved Harry away suddenly, and Harry grunted as he tumbled into the leaf litter of the forest floor. He lifted his gaze and glared, but Snape had already stalked off in a swirl of billowing robes.

~*~
Yesterday evening's broom ride had done little to ease his worries, but he had welcomed the distraction from his mother's incessant pestering. He loved the peace he felt when he rode his now out of date Nimbus 2001, even if it had never been enough to beat his lover at Quidditch. The memories the ride offered filled him with warmth and hollowed ache in equal measure, recalling school days long past as he skimmed the treetops, barely disturbing the canopies beneath his feet. When darkness fell completely, he had reluctantly turned back home.
His mother was still angry at Draco's outburst from the night before. She made it clear with her terse responses over breakfast and rigid way she held herself, but thankfully she had made no more mention of the impending Ball—at least where he was concerned. Draco did not fail to notice the near-constant stream of owls that flew in and out of the window of Narcissa Malfoy's study, presumably containing last-minute details or invitations to more 'eligible bachelors'. Draco shuddered at the thought.

He managed to avoid his mother for most of the day, but by late afternoon his luck had begun to wane. With no more ideas on how to restart his search for Harry, he, Remus, and Sirius had wordlessly taken a mental break from each other's company. The second disappearance of Harry had utterly destroyed their hope of breaking his curse, and they needed a breather. Draco had been shrugging into his travelling cloak and grabbing his broom when his mother finally caught up with him.

“Draco, there you are!” She said while rushing forward. Draco grimaced, taking note of the large sheaf of parchment clutched in her hand. He whipped out his wand, causing her to stop short of cursing distance. “If you burn these papers you'll wish you've never been born.” She spoke so coldly that he actually faltered.

“What is it, then?” he asked warily, while he kept his wand steady, incendio perched upon the tip of his tongue.

“Regardless of your personal feelings, we are having a Ball tomorrow night. I expect you to attend and wear proper dress robes for the occasion, not this...Muggle garb you have become so fond of. We have an image to maintain, whether you like it or not. Is that clear?” Draco bit back a groan of frustration and nodded his head sullenly. What point was there in arguing? He knew his mother well, and she would pester and nag him until he agreed to attend.

“Fine, mother. I'll come.” He shouldered his broom and turned towards the doors. “I'm going flying. I'll see you later.” He heard his mother make some sort of protest, but he ignored her as he slipped out the door.

It was a fine, warm day, and Draco felt his stress begin to ebb. The wind whipped his hair from his face, and his cloak rippled out behind him. Below him, the dense forest of the Malfoy property stretched out in front of him in a sea of green. Of course, it wasn't like they had any use for the hundreds of acres of forest that they owned, but keeping it as a sanctuary for several endangered magical creature species kept up their charitable image nicely.

He dove, allowing his feet to brush over the treetops. Several songbirds taking flight as he approached, twittering angrily. He looked ahead of him, and saw nothing but the greenery and clear blue of the sky. It felt peaceful, and it reminded Draco of those nights he had spent with Harry. His heart hurt as his bespectacled lover came to mind. Draco shook his head a little, he had managed to not think about Harry for almost five minutes—a new record.

Draco spent the rest of the afternoon flying, and even as dusk began to approach, he didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there for him, except a mother determined to marry him off as fast as possible. He had hardly seen his father since their disastrous hunting trip, he had been spending a great deal of time at the Ministry lately, presumably greasing the palm of every higher-up he could. Some things never changed.

As Draco reached the edge of the Malfoy property, he slowed and hovered in midair. The forest was as thick as ever, and looking down he could see nothing but dense forest. But as his eyes roved over the leafy trees below him, he saw slow movement—an animal of some kind. He squinted, and realized with a heart wrenching gasp that it was a stag. A stag with a curious zigzag of white upon its forehead.

~*~
Harry was picking his way slowly through the thick brush of the forest floor and back to his prison for the evening. He felt painfully hollow and lonely, wondering just how long he could continue like this. He missed Draco terribly, the feelings doubled after his reappearance some weeks earlier. His hooves made almost no noise upon the soft ground, and his area of the wood seemed to be devoid of life. He hardly heard or saw any birds or other animals anymore. For the first time in a long time, he felt completely alone.
He had barely made it back to his 'home' when he heard a sudden, loud rustle of snapping branches somewhere above him. He looked up, but at the same moment the change took him and his vision was obscured by the light of his transformation. His legs gave out beneath him, and when he looked back up Draco was there, staring at him with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open.

Harry blinked several times, and shook his head, wondering if he was hallucinating. Draco did not look as put-together as usual. He was gripping his broom in one hand, and his travelling cloak appeared to be shredded, just barely hanging onto him. His hair was sticking up every which way, and there was a thin scratch on his cheek. Draco dropped his broom, and took a few tentative steps forward. Harry stood up and eyed him nervously. Could this be some trick of Snape's? But as he took a small step forward, something told him that what he was seeing was real.

At the exact same moment, both young men ran at each other and fell into a bone-crushing embrace. Harry buried his face in Draco's shoulder, inhaling the scent of him, sweat and cedar, as well as lingering remnants of his overpriced cologne. Harry trembled, and gripped more tightly to him. Neither of them spoke, and Harry felt one of Draco's arms wrap possessively around his waist, pulling him in closer. “Harry,” he whispered, his voice shaking, as though he couldn't believe his senses.

Harry lifted his head, and saw that his lover was crying. He cradled his cheek and kissed him fiercely, gentleness forgotten in the mess of tongues, lips and teeth. When they finally broke apart, Harry murmured, his voice quivering, “I thought I'd never see you again.” He fisted Draco's robes, terrified that he might disappear.

Draco didn't say anything, but instead kissed Harry, this time cradling his jaw gently in his hand, his movements tender and precise. “I will always find you.” He smiled a little. “Haven't you figured that out yet?” Harry laughed, and relaxed his hold slightly, but refused to let go. “Harry,” Draco murmured, his breath tickling Harry's cheek, “I have some news. Good news.” He looked up, eyes round with hopeful wonder. “Tomorrow is Beltane. My family is hosting a Ball. Can you make it to the Manor?”

“Draco, I don't even know where I am, how am I supposed to get there? And, why?” His words confused Harry, and he couldn't work out why good going to a ball would do. The last one he'd attended at the Malfoy Manor didn't exactly end well.

“You're not more then fifty miles from the Manor,” Draco said with a small laugh, while Harry's eyes widened with pleasant shock. “We found a way to break the curse. If I make a public proclamation of my devotion to you, the curse will break. You'll be free.” Harry felt his mouth drop open.

“Are you sure? Would that actually work?” Harry moved to ask another question, but he heard a distinctive rustle just beyond his field of vision. His eyes widened fearfully. “Snape's coming!” Harry hissed, pushing himself out of Draco's embrace almost violently. “You need to get out of here!”

“Promise you'll come,” Draco whispered, pulling something small and shiny from his pocket and pressing it into Harry's hand. “Please, Harry.”

Harry looked down. It was one of his snitch cuff links. He felt his heart swell at the sight of it. He nodded vigorously. “I promise. Please, get out of here before he sees you!” Draco moved to kiss Harry one last time, grabbed his broom, and took off.

Harry watched him disappear into the dark, and not a moment too soon as Snape slipped out from the darkness of the trees. “Who were you talking to Potter?” His slow, silky voice made Harry shudder.

“No one,” He replied, relieved that he managed to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“Well, isn't that interesting,” he chuckled darkly. Snape held something up, it glimmering in the faint light cast by the moonlight. It was a silver catch from a cloak. “I found this tangled in the branches of a tree not five feet from here. How very interesting that it seems to carry the Malfoyfamily insignia.” Harry blanched, and took a step backward. “And I can smell that little brat on you, even from here. Do you take me for a fool, Potter?” His voice had taken on that familiar low, dangerous tone. His eyes flashed.

“You can't scare me, not anymore.” Harry said, more bravely than he felt. “We're going to break the curse. There's nothing you can—” Snape cut him off with a barking laugh.

“Oh yes, I caught your touching little reunion.” He smirked, and stepped forward. Harry stepped back, swallowing nervously. Snape's lack of anger at this admission wasn't a good sign. “You seem to have forgotten one thing, Potter,” He looked up at the thin crescent in the sky, then returned his gaze to Harry, a triumphant smirk upon his face.

“Tomorrow night, there is no moon.”
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The Stag and The Snake