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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.

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Chapter 8 – The Will of Artemis

The sun seemed to shine a little brighter that morning. Draco took his time washing up and dressing, taking special care in selecting his best Muggle suit, and helped himself to some toast from the kitchens before Apparating to Sirius and Remus's flat.

Though he had sent them an owl the night before telling them everything, he was too excited to wait for their response. Being mindful that he might be too early, he decided to Apparate to the steps of their building, and walk up to their flat. Draco's knuckle barely made contact with the door before it was flung open, and with a startled yelp Sirius dragged him into a bone-crushing hug. “Sirius—” he gasped, “oxygen, becoming an issue...” he let him go and held Draco at arm's length, his arms resting on his shoulders. He seemed to be radiating his joy, and though he hadn't said a word, it was clear that his feelings perfectly mirrored Draco's.

“You found him.” Sirius finally said, his voice cracking as he spoke. “How? Your letter didn't say.”

“Come sit down,” Remus said finally, prying his Bonded off of Draco, and motioning towards the kitchen. “We were just in the middle of breakfast.”

“Oh, I hope I'm not too early...”

“Nonsense. You're family.” Remus smiled at him, and Draco felt strangely warm at the statement. He followed the pair to their little table, and accepted the cup of tea Remus pressed into his hands. At first, he wasn't sure what to say, or how to start. They were staring at him expectantly, and after a moment, he felt the story pour out of him.

He told them of his mother pressuring him to 'settle down' with someone, her plans for inviting eligible men to their annual Beltane Ball, and the shouting match that followed. He told them about seeing him on the edge of the Malfoy property line just by chance, and an abridged version of the reunion and his invitation to Harry that had followed. “I just don't know, specifically, what the Proclamation should entail. What am I supposed to say?” Draco finished, looking from Sirius to Remus uncertainly. They exchanged a look, and then shifted their gazes back to Draco, almost in perfect symmetry. If Draco was being perfectly honest, he found the movement a little creepy.

“The texts I've found about this curse are fairly hazy on what needs to be said at the Proclamation. There's no incantation or ritual, at least, not that I've found.” Remus rubbed at his jaw thoughtfully. “It seems that if you're speaking from the heart, that's all that seems to matter. If I were you, I wouldn't practice, or think on it too much. Wait until the right time and do what comes naturally.”

“I wish I knew what the right thing to say was,” Draco muttered, pressing his thumb along the lip of the teacup. He looked back up to the pair, and seeing them together, their hands intertwined in a motion that was born of years of habit, and not in a deliberate show of affection, it made his heart ache with envy.

“It'll come to you,” Remus said in his patient, even voice. Over the years, it had become a soothing sound to him, a voice of reason intermingled with the chaos brought on by his own parents. Draco shifted his gaze back to the teacup, the sediment from the tea leaves swirling around the bottom. He watched their slow, leisurely movements as he mulled everything over.

Despite the werewolf's reassurances, Draco wasn't so sure. How could he do it off the top of his head like that? Harry had always been good at quick thinking, not him. He wanted to plan this out. “Draco,” Sirius's voice snapped him out of his daze, and he looked up. He tried to rearrange his expression to hide his fear over the coming evening, with little success. “If it helps, we can go back to the Black Library and do some more research.” His tone was gentler than usual, and it was more unsettling than comforting.

“No...” Draco looked away from them, his eyes taking in every part of the tiny flat. It occurred to him in that moment that he was sitting in Harry's home. Harry had spent most of his life in this flat, with the two people that now sat not two feet from him. How could he not have realized how difficult this must be for them, to know that he knew where their child was but be virtually incapable of helping him? The envy he had felt a moment before was completely overwhelmed by guilt.

“I'm sorry,” he said after a long silence, refusing to meet their gaze while he struggled to compose himself.

“Whatever for?” Draco turned, and Remus started slightly. He couldn't exactly blame the man, he was fairly certain this was the only time they'd ever seen him this close to tears.

“Everything. If it wasn't for me, and this...this betrothal, Harry might've never been taken like this...” He sniffled, feeling entirely pathetic, and roughly rubbed the tears from his eyes before they had a chance to fall.

“Draco, look at me.” It took him a moment, but he refocused his gaze on the pair. To his great surprise, Remus was smiling, though there was a bitterness in the expression. “This is not your fault. You cannot blame yourself for the choices of Vernon Dursley, no more than you can blame yourself for Severus's instability. None of this is your fault. If anything, we are the ones who should take the blame, for not fighting harder to keep him safe from...” Remus faltered, and mirrored anguished expressions flitted across their faces. “If anything, we are grateful for you, Draco. You have never given up on him, you never stopped looking for him, even when we—” he paused when he received a scathing look from his Bonded. “—when I had my doubts. You were the one who found him. If it wasn't for you, he'd still be lost to us.”

Remus reached across the table and took the young man's hand. “Don't torture yourself over this. It's almost over. And he'll be home with us soon.”

~*~
“Oh Harry,” the smooth voice echoed in the silo. Harry snorted and stamped his hooves angrily against the ground. The leather collar around his neck was uncomfortable, its chains binding him to the wall clanked with every move that he made. Snape reached forward, and brushed his hand along the side of Harry's maw. He tried to lurch away from the feather-light touch, but he couldn't go far enough to get out of the man's reach. “You know you have no one to blame but yourself for this. If you had only said yes to me, all of this could have been avoided,” he paused, his long-fingered hand pressing into the side of his face, forcing his wide-eyed gaze to meet Snape's. “If you had just said yes to me, I would have allowed you to live. But now...I'm afraid you need to die.”
Harry reared angrily, kicking out at Snape with his front legs, but Snape stepped backward, well out of Harry's reach. He jerked roughly against the collar, ignoring how it made him choke, how it made him ache, but he couldn't get free. Snape watched him, amusement glittering in his black eyes. “Until tonight, Mr Potter.”

Harry watched him slip out of the silo, and he heard the sharp clicks of the door closing and locking and he was engulfed in darkness. Unlike the barn it stood by, which was barely a barn and closer to a pile of rubble, the silo stood strong, smelling of musty hay and mould. There were a few cracks in the metal structure, allowing scant streams of light to dance across the narrow ground, though it was barely enough to see by. The structure was barely six feet in diameter, and even without Harry's restraints he would still have felt claustrophobic in the small space.

Harry pulled at the collar, digging his hooves into the soil. He kicked at the wall and tossed his head, but no matter what he did, the restraints refused to give. He gave a slight start as he heard a new sound, a scrabbling of small claws against the metal. He looked around, but struggled to pinpoint the location of the noise, as it echoed all around him.

After several tense moments, in which Harry tugged uselessly at his restraints and looked around for the source of the sound, a tiny circle of light appeared at the base of the silo. Harry watched it curiously, head cocked to the side. A moment later, the little grey head of squirrel poked inside. Harry stared. The little rodent wiggled, and squeezed into the silo with him. It chittered excitedly, and scampered forward and climbed up Harry's leg and perched on his back.

Harry stamped the ground nervously, his shock and confusion momentarily inhibiting him as he tried to figure out what the little creature was up to. Not even a minute later, a second squirrel squeezed its way in, and joined its fellow on his back. Harry twisted, trying to see what they were doing, but he was hesitant to try and buck them off—what if he hurt them? He felt them climb closer to his neck, and he tensed, but they merely chittered more, and Harry had the strangest feeling that they were trying to soothe him. Harry stopped fidgeting, and he felt a strange, gentle tugging against the collar.

He turned his head, trying to see what they were doing, but every time did so, the rodents would chitter angrily, and refuse to move until he had turned his head back. While Harry had no idea what they were doing, something told him that he was in no danger. He settled, and let the little creatures get on with—whatever they were doing.

Night fell around Harry, and the squirrels were still on him. By now, he had realized that the little creatures were trying to chew through the thick leather. He had no idea why the little creatures would even want to help him, but he was grateful all the same. As the complete dark engulfed them, he felt the little creatures curl up and go still. He felt a pained ache as he remained in his stag form. The door rattled and Harry tensed, stamping at the ground nervously and huffing through his nose. The door opened, and Snape stood there, illuminated by wandlight, and smirking nastily at Harry.

~*~
Draco had left Remus and Sirius some hours earlier to prepare for the ball. Already the gardens behind the Manor were alive with activity, his mother directing servers, dancers, musicians, caterers, and house elves much like a captain leading troops into battle. The sight made him uneasy, as it reminded him how important this night had suddenly become for him. He retreated to his bedroom, which was easily the same size as Remus and Sirius's entire flat, and sifted through his dress robes.
Black, white, green... Draco simply couldn't decide. He fingered a white set of dress robes with silver embroidery, the silk tumbling over his fingers in smooth folds. Why am I obsessing over this? It's only Harry. Draco paused, and he smiled. He realized suddenly that it wasn't because it was only Harry, but because it was Harry. The idea of seeing him tonight made his heart swell with excitement. He plucked a set of silver and green dress robes from his wardrobe.

~*~
“Your precious Ball is scheduled to begin soon,” Snape sneered, while Harry glared at him. Something in his expression made Harry feel like something was very wrong. He pawed at the ground nervously, but he tried his best to keep from dislodging his little companions. “There was something I failed to mention earlier...” He lifted his wand, flicked it, and a small ball of light hovered in midair, just barely illuminating the small space. Snape tucked away his wand, and pulled out something else from his robes, a glass vial containing what looked like mud. Recognizing the potion at once, Harry felt himself fill with white-hot fear.
Snape had something fine pinched between the fingers of his opposite hand. He uncorked the vial, and sprinkled in the thing. The potion frothed and turned from muddy brown to gleaming gold. No, you can't... Harry thought, but without his voice he could only grunt plaintively. Snape lifted the vial as if to toast him, and tossed it back. Before Harry's eyes, Snape transformed into his double. Harry grunted and whined, tugging on his restraints. The little creatures on his back did not move. “Well now, I wonder what will happen if your precious Draco makes his proclamation to me, instead of you?” The sound of his own voice, carrying that nasty sneer made his stomach roil. “But first...” He lifted out a pair of glasses from his pocket, and transfigured his robes similar to the ones Harry himself had worn at Lughnasadh five years ago. As a last touch, Snape produced the tiny snitch, and pinned it to one of his cuffs.

Laughing nastily, Snape-Harry turned and left, the door locking behind him with a painful note of finality.

~*~
“Draco, stop fidgeting.” He glowered at his mother, whose lips were pursed in a thin line as she stood with her son and husband, greeting each guest as they arrived. He did not fail to notice the amount of young men that filtered in, his mother eyeing him knowingly each time he stepped forward to greet the guest. Draco's tone was formal and businesslike, he doing his best to ignore the looks of disapproval his parents gave him each time.
Across the gardens, Remus and Sirius stood side by side, looking as nervous as he felt. He was fairly certain that their thoughts were similar to his: Would Harry come? When would Harry come? Will this even work? His mother was not at all pleased at his insistence on inviting the couple, but relented finally to avoid another screaming match with her son. Draco couldn't help but smile inwardly at the small victory.

Draco felt as though he had been standing by the gate for hours. Guests trickled in, some he recognized, such as his old classmates—Zabini, McLaggen, and others he knew by face, though not by name. Ministry officials that were close with his father, and complete strangers that Draco had never even heard of, despite his parents' insistence that they had met previously.

He greeted guests for over an hour before he was finally relieved of his duties. He snatched a wineglass from a nearby server, wove past a stage displaying a troupe of Morris dancers, and over to Remus and Sirius. He could feel his mother's glare boring into his back, but Draco ignored it. He drained half his wine in one, and Remus reached out to grip his shoulder gently. “Breathe, Draco. He'll be here.” Draco turned back and observed the partygoers.

“I hope so.”

~*~
The second Snape left, the squirrels on his back jumped up, chittering animatedly. He stamped the ground impatiently, his muscles taut with panic and stress. Given that they had been working on it for several hours already, it did not take much more time for it to fall to the ground. At once the squirrels took off, burrowing out of the hole that had slipped in through.
Harry wasted no time with his newfound mobility, and he backed up, running right at the door. His antlers scraped against the metal, but hardly dented it. Undeterred, he stood, and backed up again.

After three more attempts at ramming the door, his head began to ache. The door looked the same as ever, and just as he was beginning to wonder if his attempts were futile, he heard a chittering on the opposite side of the door. Confused, Harry took a few steps back, only to jump in surprise moments later when he heard the loud thump of something large and heavy hitting the door. Unlike his own efforts, the door shifted slightly in its frame. Harry took another few steps back, as the door was rammed again, it rattling more loudly this time. Harry stamped his hooves impatiently, struggling with his urge to run forward and ram the door.

The door rattled one more time, and on the fourth ram, the frame split apart and the door swung open, its upper hinges just barely hanging on. At once the young buck jumped aside as Harry pelted out the door, running at top speed.

~*~
Draco checked his watch. The Ball had started over two hours ago. Where was Harry? His stomach knotted as his worry had begun to mount. Around him the Morris dancers had finished their performance and were now mingling with the guests. A small string quartet was filling the silence as people danced across the smooth patio, magically enlarged for the evening's celebrations.
He was not the only one feeling tense. Next to him, Remus and Sirius looked so rigid Draco felt as though one strong breeze might snap them in two. Despite reassurances to Draco as well as one another that Yes, Harry will be here, and There's nothing to worry about, this will work. Now that the time had come, Draco's belief had begun to falter. Harry's absence was not helping his stress, as his eyes flicked repeatedly to the entryway, though no new guests arrived.

“He'll be here,” Draco said, more to himself than to the others, but his quiet reassurances did not help calm him as much as he had hoped that they would. His heart beat out a violent tattoo against his chest, and he took another overlarge swallow of wine in an attempt to calm himself.

“As the Muggles say: Ask and ye shall receive,” Sirius murmured quietly, giving Draco's shoulder a gentle squeeze. Draco turned to him, brow furrowed in confusion, and Sirius nodded towards the entryway with a small smile. “Look.”

Draco turned, and his breath caught in his chest. Guests nearby hadn't noticed him yet, but as he strode across the lawn, Draco caught the sound of shocked gasps and snatches of conversation.

“Who is that?”

“Why does he look so familiar?”

“Is that who I think it is?”

“It can't be, he's dead!”

None of the voices mattered to Draco. He just barely managed to keep himself from running towards Harry, who was smiling knowingly at him.
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The Stag and The Snake