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The Majestic	By : lashton Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2235 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Majestic
- 2-Claimed
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: All non-original characters and situations are property of J.K. Rowling, et al. No copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made from the content below.

The Majestic
Laurence Ashton
Chapter Two:
Claimed

~

That afternoon, Harry and Hermione split with Ron to go to Double Potions with the Slytherins. They made it some minutes before the class began and dumped their school things on their workbench. A gang of Gryffindors and Slytherins gathered around Malfoy�s workbench on the other side of the room, loudly chattering and admiring the serpent. As usual, when he became the center of attention, Malfoy tried to milk it for all he was worth.
"His name is Midas," Malfoy said. "And he's very poisonous, so be careful, because I don't care enough about any of you to sacrifice him for the antivenom.
Upon hearing that, some of the students hedged away nervously. Among them was Neville Longbottom, who came to stand beside Harry and Hermione with a dreamy look on his face.
"Isn't he pretty?" Neville said, sighing. Harry glanced over and scrutinized Malfoy. He supposed that he had an attractive face, if a little pointy. Scrunching his nose, he glanced back at Neville. "I touched him. When Malfoy wasn't looking, of course! If Malfoy had caught
At that moment, Snape barged into the room, robes flapping behind him, and scowled at the bottleneck by Malfoy's desk. "To your seats!" he barked and slammed into the storeroom. Everyone scrambled, grabbing up bags and books and cauldrons, and scurried back to their own benches to set up for the afternoon's class. Shuffling feet and papers sounded throughout the room. Snape sneered at them as he came back into the room, clutching a vial of volatile purple potion.
Snape stopped at Malfoy's desk, letting his fingers trace over the silky scales on Midas's back. Midas raised his head and flicked his tongue, eyes flashing silver.
Pretty, pretty are your wiles, curdling blood behind your smiles. You may speak with flair and style, yet to me you are but vile, Midas sang in a lisping, rasping voice. Harry glanced at Midas with wide eyes, and Snape, as if sensing the meaning behind Midas's hissing, snatched his hand away and took a step back.
"Mr. Malfoy, the Headmaster would like a word with you. He is in his office now. Take your books; you won't be returning. Serpents are not on the list of approved familiars." Then Snape sneered. "I am certain that Mr. Zabini will be most eager to fill you in on what you've missed."
As Malfoy shoved his supplies back in his satchel, and Snape turned to write on the chalkboard, Hermione leaned closer. "What did Midas say?" she whispered in his ear. Harry scribbled the phrase onto a spare piece of parchment and handed it over. Hermione read it over for a few moment, then carefully folded it and stashed it in her pocket, and curious look in her eyes as she gazed at Snape's back.
She did not speak with him again throughout the rest of the lesson, but for whispered instructions on the brew. Harry hadn't expected much of a discussion right there in Snape's class, but the curious and calculating look in her eyes irritated him. He wanted to know what she was thinking.
Following Potions, Harry scribbled his assignments on a spare piece of parchment as he jostled Hermione from the room. She stumbled into the hall, casting foul looks over her shoulder as she tried organizing her books.
"What?" Harry demanded.
"What what?" replied Hermione. She was being purposefully daft, the wretch.
Sighing in irritation, Harry scowled. "What do you think Midas meant?"
"Oh, I don't know. It was odd, is all. He could have meant anything."
"But you don't think so."
"Contrary to what you and Ron seem to think, I don't know everything! Besides, you're the one who speaks Parseltongue. Why don't you ask what he meant? Charmed familiars are accommodating, if you're nice to them."
"Yeah, but I need Malfoy, to be the accommodating one."
"Perhaps you ought to be nicer to Malfoy, then. You know, lead by example."
"You want me to chummy up to Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed, faltering mid-step. Hermione gave him a wry smile.
"No. I want you to hurry up so we're not late for Charms."
"But�"
"No buts, Harry. Get a little creative. He's a Slytherin, isn't he�? Make him an offer he can't refuse."
"What's that: abject humiliation, voluntarily enslaving myself to his whims, or death? I particularly like the second option. I see� collars in my future. Big brass ones."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I said be creative, not stupid." Harry looked at her in expectation, waiting for the little nudge in the right direction. "You're a Parselmouth, Malfoy's not, Midas is a snake�." Slowly, Harry's scowl morphed into a grin. "Come on, slave-boy, or do I have to snap a lead to your big, brass collar?"
"That's not funny, Hermione!"
Hermione laughed the rest of the way to Charms.

~

Harry spent the free period between end of classes and dinner in the library, struggling with tricky potions questions and the Divination analysis. Malfoy had made deciphering the prophecy seem so easy in class, but when it came down to breaking the Prophet's code, Harry could find bunches of other reasons why the prophecy could be about anything other than the fateful Halloween night when he became the Boy-Who-Lived.
Even asking Hermione's opinion did him no good. She wrestled with finding definitive clues for two hours before unhelpfully suggesting that he go find Malfoy and beg off a tutoring session.
As if, Harry thought, scribbling a reiteration of Malfoy's earlier op-ed analysis. Harry could practically hear Malfoy's exaggerated laughter and lazy drawl, "What, Potter? Need to hear again what a special ittle boy you are?"
With the Divination assignment out of the way, Harry worked on characteristic charts for Herbology until his stomach loudly announced its displeasure with being empty. He dropped his books off in the common room, the headed down to dinner.
Ron was already there and eating, sitting with Neville and Lavender Brown. They were arguing good-naturedly about a lesson in their mutual medi-magic class. As Harry sat down and began to load his plate with food, Lavender turned to him, a look of red-cheeked exasperation on her face, and demanded to know what he thought.
"What do I think about what?"
"We were talking about the Unconscionables. These two are saying that�"
"Hello," interrupted Hermione as she darted over and sat down. "I ran into Professor McGonagall on my way over. She asked me to catch up on the spells so that you can start a study of your Animagus form."
"Oh, good. Do you want to practice after dinner today?"
"That's fine. We learned quite a few spells. It's a little more complicated than it sounds."
In part from hunger, and in part of eagerness, Harry wolfed down two servings of dinner and one of dessert. Hermione ate less, so they were evenly paced and ready to go in forty minutes.
"Do you mind if I stop off to write a letter to Remus first?"
"No," replied Hermione. "I could do to write a letter myself. My mum's probably worried because I haven't written since I've been back to school."
They detoured to the owlery in silence, composing their letters mentally. Voices drifted into the hall from the owlery, and Harry recognized Malfoy's drawling tone.
"�so I'll just tell him that I can't."
"Oh, that'll go over well, Draco," came Zabini's deep, husky voice as something hissed in the background � Midas, probably. "I can imagine the�"
"Potter! Quit sneaking around out there!"
Grimacing, Harry stomped into the owlery and sneered. "I wasn't sneaking anywhere, for your information. You don't own the owlery, Malfoy. I'd suggest that you don't hold private conversations here."
"I wasn't�"
"Malfoy, Harry and I were talking about Midas today, and we wanted to ask you a question."
"Hermione!" complained Harry as Malfoy narrowed his eyes, reaching up to touch Midas's back, as if reassuring himself that Midas still lay around his neck.
"Why?" said Malfoy, jutting his chin.
"He is curious, you must admit," said Hermione, laughing amiably. Harry looked at her askance.
"And what's it to you, I wonder?" snapped Zabini. He grabbed hold of Malfoy's arm. "Come on, Draco, we've got better things to do than stand around chatting with these losers."
"Please, I only want a moment. He's not like any other snake I've ever seen, and�"
Hermione reached to touch Midas, who hissed and reared. Malfoy grabbed her wrist and sneered.
Dark is the night; dark is the drear. Dark is your path; dark is the year.
"Not unless you want to die, Mudblood."
Zabini laughed. "Maybe so. Let her have a go, Draco!"
Hermione wrenched her hand back and moved closer to Harry. "Oh, he's one of those sort, is he?" Malfoy grinned. "I'm surprised the Headmaster let you keep him."
"As if he had a choice!"
"Shut up, Zabini!" Malfoy snapped. He brushed by Harry and Hermione. Midas turned his head and looked Harry in the eye. His eyes flashed silver.
Harry Potter�
"Yes?" Harry hissed. He raised a hand and set it on Midas's head. Malfoy stiffened. "Midas."
I have seen into your mind, friend. We are kindred, so I warn you � beware the claimed.
"What do you mean?"
Malfoy grabbed Harry's hand in a bruising grip and pushed it away, face scrunched in disgust.
"Don't talk to my snake."
"He talked to me, if you didn't notice."
"He won't do it again, don't worry." As Malfoy said this, Midas slunk away and burrowed down Malfoy's sleeve as if chastised.
"Aren't you the least bit curious about what he has to say? I can tell you�"
"I don't need you to tell me what's in my own head!" spat Malfoy. Harry raised both eyebrows in challenge.
"Can we go, now?" Zabini whined. Nodding absently, Malfoy gave his assent. Smiling with uncalled-for smugness, Zabini threw an arm around Malfoy's shoulder, caressing Midas's tail where it curled around Malfoy's neck, and ushered Malfoy away. Harry gawked as they left and Zabini tossed a victorious smirk Harry's way. Soon, their footsteps faded away.
"What did Midas have to say?" asked Hermione.
Taking a seat at a writing desk, Harry shrugged awkwardly. "I don't know," he told her. Somehow, Midas's words felt as if they had been spoken in confidence � meant for Harry's ears only.

~

Harry stood outside as the sun set, sending streams of pink and purple jetting across the sky. Fluffy white clouds dimmed as the darkness settled in, turning drab gray. Dark canopies swayed like brush tips against the canvas of the heavens. Harry stood on a hill, barefoot, sharp, ribbed blades of grass poking his soles. He stared intently at the sky, watching as the light faded and burning dots began to emerge.
A hand clamped on his shoulder and he stiffened, lowering his head but not turning to see who had joined him. He knew, without a doubt, who had snuck up on him as he immersed his thoughts in the sights around him. Everyone else avoided him.
"What do you see?" whispered a low, hissing voice.
"Stars," he replied, ducking his head and letting his eyes flutter closed.
"It is bright yet."
He glanced through his eyelashes at his horizon. The sun hadn't fully disappeared from his line of sight, the darkness of the sky was fuzzy, muted.
"I know."
"What more do you see?"
"I� I can't." The hand on his shoulder clenched, and a stream of magic flowed from the fingertips, into him. It burned, seared, kindled a fire in his thoughts that blinded him. Crying out, he sunk, falling forward to his knees, hoping to escape the touch, but the hand followed him down and tightened. "Please, don't�!" The magic flared, a light flickering behind his eyes that caused an ache in his temples. "Please�."
"What do you see?" the man asked, his voice a low purr, seducing him into a sense of security. "Tell me what you see and the pain will end."
"I can't� I see� Please," he begged, curling his fingers into the earth for purchase.
"Tell me what you see, Draco. If you tell me, I will make the pain go away."
"I don't know�. Please, I don't know. Please, make it stop. Make it stop. I'll do anything if you just�"
Suddenly the pain receded and the hand shifted from his shoulder to card through his hair. He collapsed fully onto the ground, quivering as residual tremors coursed through him. Every nerve in his body felt aflame with hurt, and he sobbed, unable to keep in his cries. The fingers in his hair stimulated more agony than comfort.
"You must try harder."
"Yes! I promise� I will try harder, will focus�."
"Do not disappoint me, Draco."
Shuddering, he breathed out his answer, "No, my lord. I will not disappoint you again."

~

Harry woke suddenly, gasping for breath. He could feel shockwaves of pain fading into a dull ache. Something strange had happened in his dream � was it even a dream? He saw himself as Malfoy, saw and felt the world as Malfoy did. It was so detailed, almost painfully so, and he could not figure out how or why this had happened. A flitting thought told him that Midas had something to do with it.
He told the dream to Ron and Hermione as they made their way down to breakfast, and the three of them clustered together at the end of the table, heads bent close, trying to figure out a possible meaning to what had happened. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table, to Malfoy, when he recounted Voldemort's interest in Malfoy's� what? Sight?
"Like Dumbledore," Ron mentioned, and Harry remembered Remus's letter. He'd mentioned that Dumbledore had taken an unexpected interest in Malfoy since the incident in sixth year. It seemed that Dumbledore wasn't the only one. What had Malfoy done again?
"Maybe we should ask someone about it," Hermione suggested. "I admit I wouldn't even know where to start pursuing this."
"Maybe we ought to ask Malfoy," Ron said, though he scrunched his face in distaste and shook his head.
"That'll go over well, I'm sure," retorted Harry.
Ron furrowed his brow, trying to cover the hurt Harry's scornful remark had caused. "I was only trying to help."
"Look, I'm sorry, it's just odd, you know� It felt�" Harry trailed off. It felt sort of like Harry had been in Malfoy's mind, in his memory. Harry only knew one� one person who could have entered Malfoy's memory and projected it thus. "Sorry. We've got to get going, anyway, or we'll be late to class. Come on, Hermione. We'll meet up with you for Herbology?" Ron nodded, and Harry and Hermione gathered up their bags and headed out to Transfigurations.
Hermione had taught Harry each of the spells needed to decipher their Animagus forms last night. The process reminded Harry a little of forming a Patronus, as the shape of his form was rather unclear at first, and gradually attained detail. As far as Harry could tell, he would morph into a� well, something big with four legs, and possibly with a tail.
"Good morning, everyone," McGonagall said at the start of class. "I hope you're all rested and rejuvenated. We've got another tough lesson ahead of us. To start, however, we've got two new students in class with us. Why don't we all introduce ourselves again?"
And so it went. Hufflepuff Susan Bones, and Ravenclaws Terry Boot and Lisa Turpin were the other members of the group, along with Harry, Hermione, Malfoy and Zabini. They totaled seven in all, and McGonagall stressed that they had a larger than usual group. Most people learned Animagi transformation as an independent study because there would be one or two (at most) a year. She'd never taught so many people at once before, and as such, she expected they might have a little trouble at the start, since they wouldn't get as much attention as one could normally expect.
This didn't bother Harry at all. He was simply happy to get a chance to learn.
"So, as a refresher, which forms do we expect?" asked McGonagall as she arranged everyone into a large circle. Again they went around the circle, listing their Animagus forms. Harry was relieved when he found out that Hermione had the clearest idea of what she could turn into, with Malfoy close in second saying, "something big, and sleek, and winged; maybe a Pegasus, or something." Lisa Turpin has the vaguest idea, with, "�er� something� fat, or maybe fluffy, or furry�."
They practiced the spells a little more, trying to determine their forms more clearly, and by the end of the lesson, Harry was happy to get out of there. Harry followed him out, looking a little stressed as well, and they reluctantly headed down to Herbology. Harry wanted nothing more than lunch and a nap. Advanced Transfigurations was nothing to sneer at, that's for certain!
Herbology flew by like a breeze, and Harry soon found himself shoveling food in his mouth alongside Ron and Dean. He was hungrier than expected (probably from having expelled so much energy on Transfigurations earlier) and ate like an elephant. He did manage to catch a nap in History of Magic, and felt somewhat normal again when he entered Defense Against the Dark Arts � DADA, as Ron had lazily taken to calling it.
They had a new professor for this class, too, another woman named Morgaine Marshall. She was young � too young to have much in the way of experience, Harry thought � but she knew her subject extremely well. She treated the material with the sort of reverence that Harry might expect from Snape, and seemed as paranoid as Moody in terms of demanding constant vigilance, though there were never any outbursts. One thing was clear, though, she thought it her duty to make up for all the subject matter that they missed over the years, and crammed ridiculous amounts of work and homework into the term at the start.
Harry got so much homework, in fact, that he, Ron, and Hermione spent their evening in the library (before and after dinner) trying to lessen the load. And by the end of the night, Harry was so exhausted that he went immediately to bed. He almost forgot about his dream from the night before. Almost, that is, for there was a thought in his mind to remind him�.
"P-Professor Trelawney�? How do you know if what you see is real? How do you know if it's the future, or� or a warning?"
TBC
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The Majestic