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The Serenity of His Rage	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
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Chapter Twenty—Before the Lake

            Draco would give Granger credit for one thing: when she acted, it was quickly.

            Granger darted forwards, her hand extended and her wand blazing away. In a second, a circle of fire crackled across the surface of the lake, and expanded out in more and more rings that fed on and grew from each other. The Inferius was burned apart before it could get fully out of the water.

            Granted, she also seared Draco’s eyebrows and almost inflicted burns on Harry. But at least the first one was destroyed.

            Draco tugged Harry back against his skin and cast a spell that would soothe some of the heat without requiring water from the befouled lake. Harry had his teeth clenched, but he nodded when Draco glanced a question at him. “I’m all right.”

            “I do not know what awakened the Inferi,” Dumbledore murmured, even as he drew his wand. “They should not have responded unless someone tried to drink the waters of the lake.”

            “Well, they’re awake now,” Draco said. He hesitated as the incantation for Fiendfyre came to mind. The main problem was that he didn’t know what would happen if he cast it in an enclosed space like this.

            And, of course, he would be casting a Dark spell in front of Harry’s friends and the Headmaster. He wasn’t looking forward to the consequences of that, either.

            “Indeed they are.” Dumbledore strode forwards to the edge of the water. He looked strong and confident, Draco thought, the way he’d appeared first year when all Draco had known about him was what Father said.

            A wizard who opposes me at every turn. A wizard who should not have been allowed to become Headmaster of Hogwarts when he also held political power.

            But great.

            Dumbledore aimed his wand above the water and spoke a long incantation that made light gradually begin to rise from the stone. Draco winced as he saw the surface of the lake bubbling and shifting on every side. More Inferi were waking up from their sleep and shambling towards them.

            “How are we going to handle this?” he whispered.

            Dumbledore evidently overheard him, although Draco had meant the words for Harry. Dumbledore smiled reassuringly over his shoulder and replied, “The light I called is not simply for illuminating the way, my boy. Watch.” And he lowered his wand until it was right above the base of the island, then tapped it a rough, stop-and-start pattern that reminded Draco of his own attempts to play the piano when he was five.

            The bond jumped with Harry’s shock when the light turned into shimmering, pearly fire that leaped silently from the rocks and began to consume the Inferi.

            I didn’t know he could do that, Draco thought, as he drew his wand and got ready to cast Blasting Curses if any of the burning Inferi made it onto the beach. I don’t even know what that spell is. Or the one that Granger cast at first, even.

            Draco nodded slowly. If he was going to keep both of them safe through this crazy hunt when going through the kind of traps a paranoid Dark Lord would leave behind, he would have to study even more magic than he had done so far.

            “Get ready to cross the lake,” Dumbledore said in the kind of calm voice made for leading armies, even as the lake started boiling again and more and more Inferi rose out of it. “Use your brooms. Unless they suddenly develop jumping abilities, you should be as safe as you were before.”

            “What about you, sir?” Harry demanded, even as he snatched up his broom. Draco did the same thing, and was in the air before Harry. He reached down and tugged on his shoulder, firing arrows of concern down the bond.

            At least Harry got a leg over his broom, but he stood there still, watching Dumbledore, who seemed not to have heard his question. He was watching some of the Inferi melt into the water under his shimmering fire and others slowly bobbing to the surface and reaching out with clawed hands.

            “Hmmm?” Dumbledore murmured at last, and finally turned his head to give Harry a winsome smile. “I’ll improvise, Harry.”

            And he plunged abruptly into the water.

            “No!” Harry shouted, and Draco’s own broom plunged and bucked as the cold fear swamped him like the lake water. But Weasley was already moving forwards with Granger, and Dumbledore’s robes floated around him as he swam, and Draco wasn’t going to be left behind on this island.

            Or leave Harry behind.

            “Get up,” Draco said, firmly, the way he had heard Madam Pomfrey speak some of her instructions when they were in the hospital wing. “Come on, Harry. The best way to help him is fly so he doesn’t have to worry about you!”

            At least Harry seemed to listen to that. His broom rose fast enough that Draco had to chase him for a second, afraid he would slam into the cavern roof, but then Harry angled a bit more towards the floor. Draco breathed in relief and followed him more sedately, glancing back once to make sure they weren’t leaving Granger and Weasley behind.

            He blamed looking behind, later, for why an Inferius had managed to grab hold of his broom and drag it down. It seemed they could jump.

*

            Harry honestly wasn’t sure what he felt first: his own fear or Draco’s that exploded through him like a lightning burst as his broom lurched towards the lake in the dead thing’s grasp. They were so much part of each other now that it even seemed strange that they would have separate emotions.

            Harry didn’t really think. He whipped his wand at the thing’s arm and shouted, “Incendio!”

            The fire that lit from the tip of his wand was a lot more explosive than normal, and raced towards the Inferius like a comet. It exploded all over its arm, and the thing opened its mouth and staggered back, although it made no sound. Then it started to slide back into the lake, still holding Draco’s broom.

            Harry spun his wand in a movement that he had reason to know pretty well this time. “Accio Draco’s broom!”

            That yanked the broom towards Harry so fast that he could barely see it move. Draco had his hands clamped down, fastening him to the shaft of the broom, and a terrified expression on his face.

            The Inferius came, too, still on fire.

            Harry turned a little and caught Draco with his arm, hauling him onto his broom. Then he cast another Incendio, and the Inferius let go of the broom to claw at the flames that crawled up and down its body. Draco’s broom was on fire, too, by now, and Harry had to swat the burning wood off his lap.

            “That was my broom,” Draco complained, his head tucked against Harry’s shoulder as Harry steered his way over the water with his knees.

            “I know,” Harry soothed him. Draco’s emotions were much more subdued and quiet than Harry was used to feeling them, and so was his voice. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.”

            Draco turned his head enough so that Harry could see one of his eyes. “It had better be a Firebolt.”

            “It’ll be a Firebolt,” Harry promised, half-laughing, half ready to scream. That they were even talking about something like this while fleeing madly on a single broom across a lake…

            At least Draco knows how to play Quidditch. He was instinctively arranging himself on the broom so that Harry had enough space to see around him, and he clung even harder than he had when Harry had Summoned his Nimbus.

            Harry looked down and back. Ron, his face pale, nodded to him and yelled, “All right, mate?” He and Hermione were flying near the cavern ceiling now.

            “Yeah! Where’s Dumbledore?”

            Ron pointed down. Harry looked, and caught his breath.

            Dumbledore was standing on something that looked like a platform made of pouring water in the middle of the lake, hurling curse after curse at the Inferi reaching for him. Some of the curses were fire, others light, and some an odd mixture of both, dripping with darkness at the edges, that Harry didn’t know how to classify. The Inferi kept crumpling back into the water or disintegrating or both, but they also still kept coming for Dumbledore.

            “How do we help him?” Harry demanded, coming to a stop near the roof. There was so much emotion inside him now that his ears ached, and he wondered for a second whether Draco could even hear him.

            But Draco answered as strongly as Ron had, leaning forwards with his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I think he’s handling himself on his own, Harry. I have to admit I’m surprised the Inferi are still coming. Most of the time, they’re terrified of fire.”

            Harry shook his head. “And according to what Dumbledore said, they shouldn’t have awakened at all if no one had touched the lake. None of us did.” He sighed and forced himself to keep flying, although he turned his head towards Dumbledore as he did. “I hope Voldemort isn’t waiting for us right outside.”

            Draco hissed and flinched, but his hands never moved from their clutch on the broom, and at the moment, that was all that really mattered to Harry.

            They were most of the way across the lake, flying near the height of the ceiling with Ron and Hermione now, when Dumbledore made his move.

            The platform of water he stood on rose and rotated once. Then it began to spin faster.

            Harry looked back, craning his neck on the broom and making Draco mutter crankily under his breath about people who couldn’t keep their eyes fixed forwards, in time to see the water that poured off the platform change to fire.

            The spells Dumbledore had cast, the ones that burned on the rocks and the surface, seemed to soar down and mingle with the water. Suddenly everything in sight was one leaping, dancing, writhing, phoenix-bright wall. And a part of the platform laid itself out across the lake, made of thin rungs of fire with something soft and bright that might have been gleaming water in between.

            Dumbledore strode across the horizontal ladder, his eyes distant and hard. Now and then, the persistent Inferi would try to grab hold of his legs anyway.

            Always, they burned and died.

            Mesmerized, Harry watched Dumbledore get more than halfway across the lake before Draco pushed hard at his shoulders. “Keep flying,” Draco snarled. “I don’t want to get trapped here by some Inferi who decide to see if they can climb up the rocks!”

            There were a few of them already doing that, Harry realized with a start, trying to use the sides of the cave to escape the flames. And Dumbledore seemed to be doing all right, and Ron and Hermione were already waiting for them by the entrance of the cave. He flew on, as fast and straight as he could.

*

            Draco kept one eye sharply behind them as they flew. He could see Dumbledore holding his wand up and directing sparks from it to hit the heads and hands of the Inferi who still tried to get close to him.

            For the most part, though, his flames had finally scared them the way they were supposed to be scared. Most of them cowered away. Or climbed the walls and got close enough that Draco winced constantly, imagining what they would do when they spotted the broom.

            Still, they had already behaved unnaturally. And a few of them tried to press close to Dumbledore even now, as the flames turned them into blackened shapes of ash.

            Draco felt the disturbance when it began, the surge of Dark magic snapping his head around until he was looking at the back of the cavern. Something built there, something as black as the lake water had been before the battle.

            A shape swirled and assembled itself, taking in some of the shadows created by Dumbledore’s fire and some of the ash that coated the burning Inferi. Draco knew what the shape resembled, more intimately than any of the others could. A giant shadow version of Nagini reared there, tail slapping back and forth as she slithered towards the water.

            “Snake!” was all Draco could shout. He shouted it at Harry mostly, but at Dumbledore, too, and Harry’s friends, just in case any of them had a miraculous idea that could take care of this.

            Harry jerked and swore and almost fell off his broom. Dumbledore turned and stared at the shadow-snake. Draco saw the way his face turned pale and his eyes closed for a moment.

            Then he opened them again and took a step to the very edge of his fire-ladder. But Draco knew what the signs meant. Dumbledore would keep fighting, because he had to. But he didn’t really know how to handle this.

            “Harry,” Draco whispered. The soul-bond between them was humming so tightly that Harry’s fear and fury were his own. He would do a lot to make sure he survived himself, but anything for Harry.

            “There might be something I can try,” Harry gasped. “Wait.”

            Draco wanted to say he had no idea how to do anything else, but that seemed like it might be a bad idea. He nodded and closed his eyes and bit his lips, and held on, again, as Harry turned back to face the shadow-snake.

*

            It was even bigger than Harry had been afraid it was. Of course, part of the fear he’d been picking up was Draco’s. He hadn’t been able to look back as much as Draco had because he had to concentrate on steering the broom.

            Now, he knew, as the snake began to slither across the surface of the water and smother the flames before it, that he had to concentrate on this.

            “Stop!” he said, in what he knew was Parseltongue, because he was looking directly at the snake and from the way Draco jerked in front of him.

            The great, silhouetted shape did, curling motionless except for the slight bob of the head. It was reared, like the basilisk had been. Except that they didn’t have the Sword of Gryffindor with them now, and Harry wasn’t sure how dangerous the snake’s fangs and eyes might be, and…

            Harry took a deep, shivering breath, and began to speak, still in Parseltongue, trying to keep his own eyes on where the snake’s would be if it was mortal. Or material. “I killed a basilisk for defying my will. I am the lord of snakes, the one who binds them.” He reached out, although he hated to, and pulled back his fringe so the thing could see his scar. “I carry within me a piece of the one who bound you here. Turn back, now.”

            The sickness that touched him down the bond was still hard to distinguish, he thought, dizzy. It could be his because he had a Horcrux inside him, it could be Draco’s from having to hear him speak Parseltongue…

            But whatever it was, it sufficed. The image of the snake bowed its head further, and further, until it lay along the water. Then it dissolved into nothing more than the sputtering of shadows from Dumbledore’s flames.

            Harry leaned back, shaking, and felt Draco encircle his waist with one arm. “It’s all right, it’s over,” Draco murmured to him, and then kissed Harry on the cheek, something that both shocked him a little and helped to ground him as probably nothing else could have done.

            Harry smiled weakly at Draco and steered the broom towards the entrance of the cave again. The Inferi had gone quiet. Harry still had no idea what had stirred them up in the first place, but presumably Dumbledore or Hermione would figure that out later.

            He did notice, as they slipped out of the cave and into the free air again, that Dumbledore’s eyes were fixed gravely on him. He nodded a little when Harry stared back, but didn’t look away.

            Maybe he’s angry about me using Parseltongue. Harry pushed his hair back from his fringe. Probably that’s it.

            At the moment, though, he couldn’t bring himself to care. And he knew that was his own feeling as well as Draco’s.

*

            The tactic only didn’t work because Draco was expecting it.

            The moment they arrived back at Grimmauld Place, Granger asked for the note and the decoy locket. Dumbledore handed them over to her, smiling when she said that she wanted to research the possible writer of the note in the Black library.

            “I think you might find the answers closer than even a book,” he told her.

            Granger lit up at once, and scrambled out of the room with Weasley right behind her. Draco wondered how in the world they could still be so energetic, and then remembered that they hadn’t participated much in the fight with the Inferi.

            Dumbledore collapsed into his chair at the kitchen table and closed his eyes. Harry hovered over him, looking anxious. Draco restrained his own reaction to that sight. He could feel through the bond that Harry’s anxiety was less deep and warm than what he’d felt when Draco was grabbed by the Inferius. Dumbledore was no threat.

            “Is there something you need done?” Harry finally asked. “Some spell that would help with magical exhaustion?” He looked around vaguely, as if expecting Madam Pomfrey to pop up from some corner.

            Dumbledore sighed. “A little quiet conversation would be best, my dear boy,” he said. “About Inferi, and Parseltongue, and traps that spring when you aren’t expecting them.” He turned his head. “But I think Mr. Malfoy will want to take a shower and rest, and you should go with him.”

            Draco narrowed his eyes. There. That was the sort of thing Dumbledore did all the time, probably thinking it was for the greater good and not even being actively malicious, and that Harry was already opening his mouth to fall for.

            Play the greater victim, and Harry would be on your side. And if Draco went to take a shower and clean up, then Dumbledore would be alone with Harry and could talk to him about things Draco would rather hear.

            “I didn’t use nearly as much magic in the battle as you did, Professor,” Draco said, and sat down in another chair next to where Harry hovered. “I can use a Cleaning Charm, though. And I have to admit, as someone who didn’t expect the Inferi to come out of the lake, I want to know why you think it happened.”

            Dumbledore blinked hard and then looked away. Draco saw a faint flush on his cheeks. Despite his lack of a soul-bond and how inexplicable he found Dumbledore in general, he didn’t think it was a flush of anger. He thought it was one of frustration, maybe faint shame, that he had once again tried to do something that would separate Harry and Draco.

            Draco nodded. His theory that Dumbledore didn’t even realize what he was doing most of the time—that manipulation was simply as natural for him as breathing—was confirmed.

            It didn’t mean Draco liked it, of course.

            “As long as you don’t think you need to rest,” Harry said dubiously. “Either one of you,” he added, catching Draco’s eye.

            Draco smiled back at him and reached out to take his hand, tugging him into a chair. Harry seemed utterly oblivious of whether he might be magically exhausted from that fight. He simply sat and looked back and forth between them, his face pale with honesty and concern.

            “What did you say to the snake that convinced it to back down?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

            “I told it that I killed a basilisk for disobeying me,” Harry said, and smiled with the side of his mouth at Draco, probably because he’d felt the bond bounce. Well, it was one of those things that Draco knew had happened, but he always forgot how impressive it was until Harry spoke aloud. “And I told it that I could bind snakes, and I had a bit of the one who bound it or made it inside me.”

            Dumbledore closed his eyes. “I feared it might be something like that,” he murmured. “There would be no other reason for the snake to yield to you, when Tom would not have designed it with a vulnerability to Parselmouths. And it was probably the only way we could have escaped.”

            “And yet you blame Harry for it anyway,” Draco said, because he knew where this was going by now.

            Dumbledore opened his eyes, ignoring Draco. He gazed earnestly at Harry instead. “I am not sure if you know it,” he whispered. “But the more you claim kinship with the Horcrux inside you, and call on its powers, the closer it drifts to your own soul.”

            Harry winced a little, but didn’t take his eyes away from Dumbledore. “Every time I use Parseltongue? You didn’t object when I needed to open the locket.”

            “We might have been able to find another way to open it, if not right then.” Dumbledore shifted his weight in the chair and held up a hand to forestall an objection that, as it turned out, Harry didn’t make. Draco thought he turned his laugh into a cough in time, but he wasn’t sure. “But yes, Harry. I am sure now, now that I am watching the state of your soul. The soul-bond did not work the way I intended, and it might be in part because of the way you have used the poisonous gifts granted to you by the Horcrux.”

            “Show me one of the spells that you use to look at my soul.”

            Draco leaned back comfortably in his chair. Their bond might not include telepathy, but Harry had just successfully anticipated his next question.

            Dumbledore didn’t look upset at having to do it, though, which confounded one of Draco’s expectations. He took out his wand and sat for a moment, drawing in his breath.

            Draco felt the power drawing up in response, and winced. Even with one hand poisoned by a Horcrux’s curse and all the magic he’d used just an hour ago, Dumbledore was still so strong that Draco dreaded the thought of taking him on in a head-to-head fight.

            Let’s hope I don’t have to.

            “Animus acclaro,” Dumbledore whispered, and soft blue light rushed out of his wand and over Harry.

            Draco blinked and looked at the glow. There were several things floating in it. A dark, pulsing oval throbbed behind Harry’s scar, transparent inside his forehead. And inside Harry’s body was a glowing golden twist, with a bridle of light extending out of it and towards Draco.

            It vanished when it touched him, though, probably because the spell wasn’t meant to show Draco’s soul. He studied the objects, and then shrugged. “The distance between my soul and the Horcrux looks equal to me, Professor.”

            “Perhaps I erred in talking about it in terms of distance,” Dumbledore conceded. “What it has done is grow stronger and darker. The Horcrux,” he added, as if either of them might not know what he was talking about. “And I am afraid of what it will mean if Harry continues to use Parseltongue.”

            “You’re afraid, Professor? I’m not.”

            Draco glanced sideways at Harry. He didn’t approve of the rush of suicidal courage that was making the bond glow golden. Harry stood up, although he still held Draco’s hand, and gave Dumbledore one nod.

            “I’m alive,” he said. “I have my friends and my bondmate.” Draco shifted, wanting to object to the order there, but not daring to interrupt. “There’s a chance I might have to die to get rid of the Horcrux, but we don’t know yet if it’s a death sentence. So. We’ll do what needs to be done, and worry about my Horcrux when the others are destroyed.”

            Draco squeezed his hand in silence, and stood up, too. He still didn’t approve of any desire Harry had to risk himself, but he wanted to be alone with him to show how much he approved of this.

            “Wise of you, Harry,” Dumbledore said, and sighed and cast a Finite that made the glow around Harry vanish. “I am sorry. Forgive an old man’s fears.”

            “I can,” Harry said, and then drew Draco up the stairs, towards the bathroom that Draco knew had showers.

            He didn’t say he would, Draco thought, but resisted the temptation to glance over his shoulder. He was sure Dumbledore had caught the nuance, and he didn’t really need to see him frowning over it.

            Besides. Watching Harry was so much more important.

*

            SP777: Yes it did!
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The Serenity of His Rage