Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Icarus Syndrome	By : WhiteNightmare66 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21216 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. I am not making any money from the production of this fic.

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warnings: Creation of wizardkind, Acier-Glace-version! Rituals! Character death.

-X-

“Harry? Are you going to be alright?” He didn't answer but sighed and scrubbed at his face with his hands. Dried tears were brushed away and he took a few calming breaths.

“I'm not sure.” Ron patted his arm.

“Understandable, mate.”

“I'm going to apologize to you two in advance. I'm not going to deal with this well and I'm sorry but you'll probably be catching a lot of my temper.”

“I think we'll be alright, Harry.”

“He's right, Harry. We understand.”

“God, you two are the best.”

“We know.” Hermione smiled and rubbed his arm soothingly. “Can we still do the ritual to find Draco's wand without him?”

“Yeah.” Harry shook his head a few times and stood up, stretching his tensed and tired body. “He gave me a vial of his blood and he said to let you read the ritual book. I have some lines to memorize, I think.”

He began looking around the room and noticed both his bag and Draco's on the table with the two trays of chocolate and other sweets Draco had insisted on in the kitchen. He felt a little part of himself whimper and cry in the back of his mind and ignored it. He didn't need any more mental dilemmas. He ruffled through their stuff until he found the correct book and the book shivered and opened itself to the correct page when he touched the cover.

“This is it?” Hermione asked when he handed her the book. “It doesn't seem that...” She trailed away, brows furrowing and teeth chewed on her lower lip.

“The house elves sent this?” Ron asked, taking the cover off one of the trays. “I don't even know what some of that is, but it smells delicious.”

“Draco had them put it together.” Harry answered quietly, taking one of the sweets. Ron stared blankly at the assortment before snorting lightly and grabbing something smothered in chocolate.

“I should have known.” Harry rolled his eyes and finished the sweet quickly. He began to go through some more of his things, scattering knickknacks over the table. Curiosity overcame him and he went through Draco's stuff, looking over the books and notes. He glanced up and looked around, finding the books Draco had pulled out earlier when they first established it was a descendant of Zeus that stole his wand. He grabbed a few of them and began to flip through them.

“Hey, Ron? The person who stole Draco's wand had god's blood in them and specifically the Greek god Zeus'.” He paused as Ron gave him an encouraging nod. He bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. “Wouldn't they have a stronger magical core? I mean, the gods were really powerful so it would be natural that someone with their blood is really powerful too, isn't it?”

Ron laughed bitterly and shook his head. “You know, Harry, sometimes I forget that you weren't raised in the Wizarding world.”

“What's that got to do with anything?” He asked sharply.

“Have you ever thought about how witches and wizards were born? How they began?”

“Not really.” Most purebloods treated magic as natural as the air, and tended to scoff at muggleborns who often asked questions about magic. Harry fell in neither category really. He had had bigger issues to deal with when others would be asking questions.

“Well, let's just say it's not unusual for a wizard to have gods' blood. Right. Keep in mind that I'm from a pureblood family, even though we don't hold the same values to blood like the Malfoys, Blacks, Parkinsons and other proper pureblood families. Wizards and witches didn't just appear out of thin air and magic didn't just manifest in muggles like for muggleborns. A long time ago, and I mean a really long time ago, gods used to have affairs with mortals. Any children born of the affairs would be demi-gods, half-god and half-mortal, but mortal didn't mean muggle. Because the mortals had gods' blood in them, it burned out imperfections like old age, disease and other muggle weaknesses. These people became the first witches and wizards. It wasn't just Greek gods or Celtic gods, it was gods everywhere. Local gods, nature gods, spiritual beings, they all mated with mortals and bore mortals who could use and control magic.”

“No wonder it wasn't as much a shock to the Slytherins. They were only upset because someone had been walking around with gods' blood and they didn't know which god or who.”

“That's how blood purity started. The gods had a ranking system. The stronger the god who gave the blood, the stronger the magic the wizard possessed. It's been said that Merlin was born to a woman who had mated with the Spirit of Darkness itself.”

“Spirit of Darkness? Like evil?”

“Magic is in everything, even the shadows. The Spirit of Darkness would be better described as Dark Magic, I guess. Not a god, but a being of total magic. It was why he was so much more powerful than the other wizards in his age.”

“So a person with Zeus' blood would be fairly strong and high in the social hierarchy.”

“Yeah, they would be one of the elite. The Weasleys are actually descended from a very powerful spirit of fire. It's one of the reasons the red hair hasn't been bred out. Blood is power in the Wizarding world.”

“Do you know about Draco's family?”

“Well, the Blacks are supposedly descended from the Greek god of Terror. That's one of the reasons they end up barmy more often than not, or that's the story they tell anyway.” Harry winced as he recalled Bellatrix and Sirius' mother. “The Malfoys, well, they have a bit more history. Only a blooded Malfoy knows the totality of it, but there's enough for the public to know. They're very, very old. Blood from various gods from just about every big pantheon the muggles know and I know they can trace some of their history back to literal kings and conquerors. The money the Malfoys have isn't the result from a few good business deals. It's money that was forged from gold their ancestors discovered, money they inherited from generations of family. One of the reasons Dad hates the money they have is because they don't do anything with it. They could probably change the entire economic future of England if they would stop being so damn selfish and greedy.”

“Wow, Ron. I'm impressed.” Harry said, staring at his best friend in stun and awe. He forgot sometimes too that Ron had more thoughts in his head than about food and Quidditch.

“Me too. Ron. I'm speechless.” Hermione said, warmth, love and amazement in her voice. The redhead blushed scarlet and rubbed the back of his head.

“It's not that big of a deal. Mum used to lecture us about history all the time. You pick up and remember things the fifth time she pounds it into your head.”

“I'm still impressed.” Hermione said and Harry averted his eyes when he saw her duck her head closer to Ron's. “Anyway, Harry, this ritual should be easy enough. Can I see the vial of blood Draco left?”

“What do you need it for?” He asked as he drew it out of his pocket.

“I just wanted to be sure we have enough. We have to use it as the chain between the wand and the scrying bowl and since we don't have Draco here to use his magic as another link, it'll be a bit harder. His blood will be very important.”

“So what exactly will happen?”

“Have you and Draco drawn the circle?” She asked, flipping a few pages.

“Yeah. I didn't recognize half the stuff we did.”

“But it looked like this, right?” She opened it to a picture of a circle with smaller circles, writing he didn't recognize and a bowl on a tripod in the center.

“It looked just like that.” He nodded, frowning at the circle. “He said we'll need another person since he won't be there.”

“Yes. Since you'll be in control of the ritual, the pillar, we'll need another person to stand at the Spirit position.” She tapped the circle at the top.

“Draco suggested Snape. He's Draco's godfather.”

“Professor Snape would work, if we can get him to agree.”

“He'll agree.”

“Well, each of us will take our positions in the circle and then you'll have to activate the circle. There's a chant here you have to say but don't worry, I'll coach you through it. Once it's activated, you'll pour in the water and then Draco's blood. Three drops of blood go on the hawthorn rod and you'll have to tune the scrying bowl with it. Once attuned, it should open a portal in the bowl. You'll be able to see the magic searching out the culprit.”

“Wait, it'll open a portal?” Ron asked, looking a bit pale.

“It's one of the risks you take when you have a hawthorn wand.” Hermione said with a grimace.

“You've lost me again. What does the wand wood have to do with it?”

“Well, hawthorn is a tree sacred to faeries and it can act as a portal to their realm, among others.” She answered, eyes averted.

“So there's a very big chance the ritual will open a portal to the faery realm?”

“Not really. The portal will be more like a... window. The faery world exists right among ours, hidden like the wizarding world is from the muggle world. This ritual is specifically designed to cut away layers and to search until you found what you are seeking. The biggest risk we run is something noticing the window and... opening it.”

“Right. So, it's a forty-three on the one-to-ten scale of dangerous?”

“It's about as dangerous as Horcrux Hunting.”

“Good thing you're really good at that, mate.”

“Why can't it ever be easy?”

“It's magic, Harry.”

-X-

The Alter Room was glowing softly from the various torches the magic lit when Lucius and Narcissa stepped into the room. Their garments lay off on the side and they moved to them. Narcissa helped him with his heavy white clothes. The thin, silk long-sleeved shirt went on first and then a set of white breeches. A thick white belt looped around his middle and Narcissa began to fix the brooch, a silver dragon holding a moonstone, on his chest over his heart and the silver chained belt that draped over the thick belt in the center of his lower torso, a polished alexandrite in the center. A white imperial cloak went around his shoulders, silver dragon clasps locking it below his throat. His hair was left free and when he knelt his head down, she placed the silver circlet over his head, the pearl in the center fixed in line with the chakra point for mental magic.

Narcissa's outfit was similar, except her robes were done in black. She stood still as Lucius dressed her and let a tear slip down when he kissed the Malfoy ring on her left hand. Shaking, she stepped back and into the protection circle outside of the main circle. Lucius stared at her briefly and then turned to the circle.

The circle was glowing a soft white color, the chalk cutting into the stone ground and channeling the magic of the Malfoy lineage. The circle was inscribed with a star, various circles, a hexagon and numerous runes and Latin inscriptions. In the center was his pillar location and he stepped into the magic. It flared as his magic was accepted, just as it would have for Draco and Potter. This was a magical link between the three now and it would mean death for any other to interfere.

This circle was the most intricate and detailed he had ever set up, even surpassing the traditional rites the Head of the family undergoes. At the four key directions, uncut gems of amethyst, diamond, kyanite and psilomelane were embedded. Five tree sprouts were set at the ends of the pentacle star, willow, African blackwood, apricot, lignum vitae and pacific yew. Around the rim of the circle there was a shallow trench of water, diverted and run miles underground from the Chalice Well. Behind him a dragon totem was constructed and ready to be set ablaze. Incense was already burning, filling the Alter Room with the smell of jasmine.

Lucius surveyed this circle, finding not a single line drawn out of place or the wrong symbol set at the wrong corner. All that remained was to begin the astral connection between Draco and then further to Potter. Lucius drew his wand, a slim and fine piece of wood that rolled in his nimble fingers and thought one last time of the man forcing him to do this.

Rufus Scrimgeour. A greedy politician and light wizard not above extorting those of the dark. A selfish man who wished to single-handedly rule the Ministry as Lucius had longed to many years ago. A man hiding behind law and threat when public favor was turned on him. A man no longer fit for this world, gifting it to dirty politicians and mudbloods. Lucius would have at one time favored this man, if the world had gone to those of pure blood like it was meant. Instead, this man made it his mission to destroy the pure families, especially the dark ones. Light and pure would guide the way for the half-bloods and mudbloods, while those dark would be the path they trod upon.

Not this family. Not this dark wizard. Not this dark wizard's heir and child. Lucius lifted his wand into the air, high above him.

-X-

Long slender fingers caressed the dark wood. It lay on the table before him, as harmless as a twig. He'd made a mistake earlier, touching the thing with his bare hand. It had sparked at him, warming under his palm. Only the binding circle he'd drawn around the wand had kept the wand from vanishing from his hands. The magic had flared briefly and he knew it was Black trying to feel it out. Black was ignorant, however, so he kept the magic contained in the area of his choosing.

He wasn't sure what Black had done to his wand but it even felt dangerous. He knew that the blood in his veins, the blood of his ancestors, called ferociously for him to destroy this and demolish Black. To be subservient to Black went against his entire existence. His was the blood of the king of kings. He was ancestor to one of the greatest generals of all time. What ancestry could Black have that had placed him higher than Zeus himself?

There was no one! The Malfoys had disinherited him. The Blacks were driven down to criminals and blood-traitors. Draco Black was little more than scum, on the level of half-bloods. Slytherin was foolish and misguided, blinded by the fact that Draco had ruled for so long with Malfoy backing. He was always forced aside, driven from the main stage.

This time he wouldn't be. He would destroy the bastard who allowed this to happen to him. He had Draco Black's wand, a wand that would be highly valuable to the Minister, especially after that paper. He was certain that there were ways of forcing the wands actions of the past to be revealed. The Unspeakables were always coming up with new techniques to expose Death Eaters. They could easily destroy Black so completely that he would be all but erased from the hierarchy. Not even the mudbloods would deign to look upon him. No squib would stoop to even piss on him. He would be a muggle.

He drew his own wand and accioed paper, a quill and an inkwell. He would need to get in contact with the Minister quickly. There were ways of exposing him and he couldn't chance that someone would find him before he had a chance to turn Black's wand over.

-X-

Harry shivered as his hair stood on end. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to notice, sitting quietly beside him. He flexed his fingers, rubbing his hands together. He wasn't cold but something was stirring under his skin. It felt like an adrenaline rush, speeding through his veins and churning in his stomach. It felt like he'd been taken back in time, right to those moments just before facing off with Voldemort in battle. He fidgeted a little longer before he finally drew Hermione's eye.

“Harry? What's wrong?”

He shook his head and stood up, pacing and shaking out his hands.

“Harry, mate?”

He shook off Ron's concerned hand and frowned at the wall. His brows drew down sharp and it felt like every nerve he had was firing rapidly. Every muscle was tense and as stressed as a predator about to pounce on unsuspecting prey.

“Is it... the final exchange?” Hermione asked, drawing her wand and grabbing Ron's hand. They still weren't sure what would happen in detail during the final exchange, but all of the previous ones had involved seriously large amounts of magic. That was discounting the fact that he now had an even larger store ready to let loose on the world if he wasn't careful. He nodded to answer her question and continued pacing like a caged lion.

“It's weird. I can feel all this energy building up. It's got my magic stressed out. But it's not going anywhere. I can't do anything but try to burn off the excess energy.” He ran a hand through his hair and balled up his hand in a fist. “The bond... The bond is... It's like it's...filling...or growing...”

“Growing? Can you feel Draco again?” Ron asked, confusion and courage underlining his words.

“No... It's not Draco... It's farther back... Like at the other end...”

“Lucius.” Hermione whispered. Harry turned on his heel and met her eyes, nodding thoughtfully.

“Yeah. It's Lucius.” He exhaled and tossed his head back to stare at the ceiling. “He's doing it tonight. He couldn't wait anymore. Damn it.”

-X-

The cane came down hard, whistling slightly in the air before it struck the back of his knees hard, making him shake and bite his lip. Father was waiting for him to slip up, to slouch in his stance, to cry out in pain, to let his face show any emotion but indifference. It stung badly and he could feel the tears building up behind his eyes but he swallowed them back.

His mother bustled into the room, spotting their tense and waiting stances ,and her lips drew down severely.

“Lucius.” He couldn't glance to the side, couldn't turn away for even the briefest of moments, not without express permission.

“Narcissa. Have you finished your attire?” He asked politely, tapping his cane on the ground with a firm hand. The echo traveled up his spine and pushed at his pained knees.

“Yes, of course.” She took her traveling cloak from the elf and Lucius pinned the emerald locust to her dark silver dress before she draped the thick black cloak over her shoulders. He could feel the look she gave him like it's an actual caress and the sting began to recede from his knees. In a smooth motion, she had her wand drawn and his clothes straightened out, but under that he could feel the lingering presence of her magic, his mother's magic that he knew as intimately as his own at the beginning of his life.

“Narcissa.”

“There will be dancing, Lucius. We can't have any rumors sprouting if the heir is walking unnaturally.” She said blithely and reached down slightly to place her hand on his shoulder. Her perfume invaded his senses. It smelt like... jasmine...

Draco cracked an eye open and stared at the bleakness of his cell. He was sitting in the corner, innate magic too wild to even hold thoughts if he could have managed it. He was slipping into the warmer memories he'd tied off to Harry, and the comfort his memory gave him was being steadily leeched away by the hovering monster just beyond the door.

He could feel it. The stars and moon bright in the sky above him, beyond the grate of the cell windows he could even see it. There was a wildness in the air. He felt it in his bones, right down to the magical core pulsing inside. He felt the connection to his father's life like he could his own heartbeat and there was a third pulse, Harry. The magic was calling. Summoning them. Binding them.

It was building, growing. Like a floodgate, all of that magic would shoot into him and, through him, Harry, and they would have to bind it to themselves, take the wild reins his father would be releasing and struggling to calm and direct. He couldn't remember the last time in the Malfoy Lineage the patriarch of the family didn't do the ritual of passing. Maybe Ezio, son of Scieran, was the one to begin the chain again. As long as there was an older, former patriarch, the magic was content to be passed, eased gently over time. Magic was chaotic when regained without such direction.

Maybe that was the reason Harry had been able to force Voldemort back. His mother's sacrifice, the entire power of years of pureblood Potters, all coalesced into the purest and most innocent of life, an infant, the magic would have been too powerful to have been ignored. He hoped that Harry, having survived this once, could be enough support to help him because he wasn't sure if he could.

-X-

A black double-edged blade was in his other hand. Silver spidery writing was obscured by long white fingers as Lucius drug the sharp edge down his inner arm. He lowered it carefully and directed the blood flow downwards where it spilled into a cup at his feet. It was wrought in blackened silver, a serpent coiled around the thick base. The bastard brother of the Chalisbury Grail, likened in all but divinity. The inside was thick with dark stains of past use and Lucius' blood was drunk hungrily.

“I offer my blood, the blood of my ancestors, the blood of our creation. I honor all that I have been given by passing to forward. My blood, my life in exchange for my son, Draco, who loves and honors those who have given him life. To carry our blood and memory into the future, I give all I am to him.”

Lucius lifted the chalice and tipped it into the single rune on the ground beneath him. It filled all of the crevices and began to glow. Done, Lucius walked to the edge of the circle and placed the cup in the hands of an elf. It vanished with a crack and the cup was back in the vault below his drawing room. Lucius took a deep breath and transferred the athame to the same hand as his wand. Using them together, he began to cut a triangle out of the air before him. The magic was as mist, falling away as the tip slid through and the ghostly image hovered in the air before vanishing. He returned to his pillar position and the rune brightened.

The jasmine incense became heady and thick in the air. The magic beneath the opening magic began to shoot through with blue tones.

The dragon sprung to life, fire brilliant and red. The eyes were as white as stars and red magic joined the blue and white.

The water around the edge of the circle stirred, churning slowly clockwise around him, and began to glow a dark blue/ purple.

The tree saplings swayed gently, leaves rustling as magic moved through them. It began to glow a rich green as it embraced the other colors.

The circle was stationary, all the magic ceased, and then the magic lost color. The strength hadn't faded, instead it became a deep, pulsating force that infected every part of the circle. It was in the air, in the ground, in himself and, through him, he could feel Draco and Potter. Draco, a shining link lost in an ocean of cold emptiness, and Potter, a further link in a world of chaos. He hadn't counted on Potter's magic being that powerful, but if Draco would gain all of the power in the air around him, he would need a strong anchor or he would lose himself to the magic.

He tilted his head back, twin tears sliding down his cheeks silently. There was no turning back now. He sank to his knees and turned his wand toward himself. The tip rested against his heart and he whispered one of the last spells he would ever cast in his life.

He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, it was as though he were looking into a mirror. Silver eyes met silver eyes.

-X-

“Harry!”

He could tell something was wrong. Hermione wouldn't have sounded so desperate had it not been bad. His magic was in chaos around him, swirling and churning in the air around him like a whirlpool. The furniture was pushed aside and shoved toward the walls. Everything loose was shaking and rattling, the painting was thumping against the wall methodically. Ron and Hermione were sheltered by the shield charm and partly hunkered behind the couch.

“Harry! What's going on?!” Ron shouted, crouching before Hermione and staring at him worriedly. He shook his head in answer, trying to get a handle on the chaos around him and the ever-widening link between him and dark. Darkness crashed into him, a tidal wave cresting and breaking on the bluffs, and just beyond that darkness was a spirit... a scent that filled his nose... jasmine...

“It's the third exchange!” Hermione's voice carried into his thoughts and he turned to focus on her face. It was pale and frightened, but brave and filled with conviction. “Lucius couldn't have afforded for Draco being killed in prison and as the Patriarch of the Family, he would have more civil rights than an Heir. Lucius must know something will happen to Draco soon!”

“What am I supposed to do?” He shouted back to her and her eyes told him that she had no answer. The magic was a cyclone, isolating him from everything with an impenetrable wall of force.

“Harry.” Silver eyes. Twin sets were turned to him, expectant. A pale hand, marred slightly by callouses and a few minor nicks, was extended to him. He reached forward and clasped it tightly, electricity now with the strength of lightning.

-X-

“Draco.”

He turned from Harry and looked up at his father. The silver eyes his father possessed were dark and bright, glistened with tears that would never fall and stone cold.

“Father.”

He could hear Harry stand behind him and then his hand was released. A single breath's hesitation and his arms were around his father's neck and shoulders, his father's long arms crossed against his back. His grip was probably too tight and he could hardly breathe from the grip his father had on him but he didn't care. This was the last time he'd ever see his father, the last time he'd ever touch him.

“I love you, Draco.” Never had he heard his father's voice like that. Rough. Thick. Sad. Pained. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Father.” He had fewer reservations than his father and his tears were already pouring down his face. He turned his face into his father's neck and could smell jasmine.

“I don't have very long anymore. The ritual would only allow the barest of pauses to align the connection. I slipped this little addition in with your mother's help. I need you to know that this was the only way. I couldn't let anything happen to you. I need you to know I would have never done this if I had any choice, Draco. Please forgive me. Please, Draco.”

His father's fingers were on his scars, tracing the thin lines. He shook his head and felt the same pattern on his father's back.

“There's nothing to forgive. I know. I know. I love you, Daddy.” He was shaking. He couldn't tell if it was because of himself or because his father was shaking. “I don't blame you for anything.”

“I was the one who forced us into this position. If I had made better choices... If I had thought about what I was doing to my family and our name...”

“It's okay. You did the best you could at the time. I don't blame you.” He repeated. “I made mistakes too...”

“Mistakes that wouldn't have been made in the first place if I had not forced them on you.” He clenched his eyes shut and held on tighter. “I didn't mean a word I said when I began this. We were being watched even then, we couldn't have afforded to chance that we were not. I don't give a damn about who or what you take into your bed. You would still be my son. My son.”

He couldn't say anything. His throat was thick with grief and breathing was difficult.

“Your mother will leave my body in the Alter Room. You know what you must do. She will be at Hogwarts soon. Never fear that we would abandon you. The wards will shift to you, Draco, as well as everything else. It will be painful. It was painful when my father passed them to me, but I have given you something to ease the pain.”

He felt his father begin to withdraw from the embrace and it was all he could do to let go as well. Given the choice, he would have gladly died then if it meant his father could live instead. It wasn't his choice to make. He turned to see what had drawn his father's attention and met Harry's green eyes. Unabashed, tears were sliding down his face but he stood there stoically.

“Potter.”

“Lucius. Call me Harry, please.”

“I do not believe I will ever call you that.”

Draco bit back a teary smile and extended his hand to Harry again. A tanned hand gripped his and squeezed tightly.

“You are the last person I would have ever tied to my family. I have never approved of you and I will forever detest even the sight of you.” His father paused and then covered his hand over his and Harry's clasped hands. “But I ask that you protect him from this point on. Draco, you are strong enough to stand alone but the foes of our family are great and numerous, and yet, even they will cower before the Savior. Potter, I am giving you my only son, my Heir, my most beloved of all things. I will not take it well if you fail in your job.”

“I would have agreed to protect Draco even if you had never asked.” Harry's voice was low and strong and Draco bit back the urge to lean into him. “I will not allow anything or anyone to harm him, use him, manipulate him or sully his name. I... I am his Guardian.”

“Very good, Potter.” His father's voice was again the cold, calculating tone he would forever miss. “Draco... You will know how to take retribution in our name. You will know how to avenge me. You will be the model Patriarch. You are my son. I expect nothing less.”

“Father...” Draco stopped and raised his head so that he met his father's gaze full on. “My father, I will avenge you. I will send your enemies to meet you and gift you with the chance to lay your own vengeance against them.”

“No father would ever be more proud of his son and his Heir. Be swift, and, for once, ours is the righteous path.”

“A first for the Malfoy name, I bet.” Draco bit back the smile and twisted it to a smirk even as his father's lips curled into a snake's grin. He opened his mouth to reply, but the silver light drew apruptly away from them, focused on some far horizon and the response fell to silece.

“I can see it. Shade and shadow, and an ever-expanding stretch of water... I can see my ferry waiting for me...”

“Father!” His father's eyes were dark silver grey now and he was no longer even glancing at either him or Harry. His father was instead staring at a place he could not see, would not turn back to see. “Father!”

“My lord...” His father whispered and, for a moment, Draco saw three men step to his father's side. Two were like angel's, but the ones of fire and fury, shining beacons of strength. Of the two, one appeared older and stoic, eyes alight with secrets and knowledge, and the other, kind and fierce, a confident smirk along his lips. Familiarity shot through him as he noticed mercury grey eyes and white-blond hair. They laid their hands on his father's shoulders and nodded once to Draco. The other man was a study of darkness, black hair and skin so dark it was like the night sky. His eyes were brilliantly yellow. Instead, he bowed his head to Draco and then turned to Harry. Draco knew something was transpiring between them, but he had eyes only for his father and the angels, his ancestors.

“Draco.” His father's eyes were like moons, a flatness there that was slowing consuming his emotions. “I will see you again, my son, when we stand together in the House of the Lord-God Hades. We will stand again together until the world falls down around us.”

“Father...” He swallowed thickly. He almost couldn't get the words out, but he knew he must... He would have to say them... He wiped away his tears with his free hand and took a steadying breath. “H-” He cleared his throat and let a sad smile slip on his lips. “I will be proud to stand beside you in the House of the Lord-God Hades, my father. Hail and farewell, Lucius Abaraxas Malfoy.”

“Hail and farewell.” Harry echoed beside him, and his tears were gone as well. The four men were there one breath and then... they were gone. The world around them brightened and the force of all the magic his father had kept at bay swept into him. Draco opened his arms, releasing Harry's hand, and embraced it.

-X-

Narcissa fell to her knees from the force of magic that shook the Alter Room. Lucius had vanished in a blast of white light and there had been a sensation like a vacuum when the magic left the room. The circle was fading, smoke and incense drifting along the floor. In the center of the circle, slumped on the ground, was all that remained of Lucius Malfoy. She stepped over the dormant lines softly when she was sure it was safe and knelt at Lucius' side.

His body was cooling, eyes dark against his pale face. She swept his hair away from his face and allowed herself to break down at she looked at the tear-stained, peaceful face of her husband. Tears built slowly into wracking sobs. She felt bereft. She only had Draco now, but Draco couldn't fill that space her husband had left behind. She loved Draco more than she loved Lucius, but Lucius had been... her equal, her other half, the one she could trust to support her when she grew too weary.

She collapsed on his still chest and buried her face into the thick white cloth. Her tears would stain the cloth but it was the least of her concerns. She would grieve now... oh, how she would grieve...but soon she would have to leave. Her son would be waiting and he needed her. But now... now, she could spare time to lament her husband, stolen too soon from them and forced to wait here until he could be properly sent off.

She did not know how long she knelt over Lucius' dead body. His lips were blue when she rose again. Her tears had stopped gradually and she reached up to caress his face. Her ring glittered in the firelight, sparkling soft reds. She cleaned his face and carefully moved his body so he lay on his back with his hands on his breast. She shook as she lifted her wand and could barely utter the stasis spell that would preserve his body down in this chamber until Draco could come home.

Narcissa, once the wife of the powerful and cunning Lord Malfoy, held her head high as she left her Lord's corpse on the ground behind her. She would be Widow Malfoy, Lady of the Manor, until such a time as a new Lady was titled. The door echoed heavily as it closed upon her exit.

She looked up at the tapestry that followed the Malfoy Lineage and smiled viciously when Draco's name shown brilliant red. Silver stitching began to curl into the year's time behind Lucius' name and it faded to grey against the black background. Scrimgeour would never get his hands on them now. No. Now, the man would learn what happened to those who angered the Malfoys. Darkness would pale in comparison. The Light would be too lenient. No. Retribution was due to them. Vengeance. Revenge. Justice.

Draco deserved nothing less.

-X-

Draco was in so much pain. His back was rent open, magic filling in those lines on his flesh, burning like flames as they shot up and down the scars. Harry's hand was in his, screaming beside him as the magic swept into him. The magic was so powerful and strong. It felt like his bones were melting from the inside out, and large red wings materialized out of the magic and pulsated with power. His skin was on fire, every breath he took yet another scream was torn from him.

The magic swirled around him, pressing into him from all sides. When he opened his eyes, he could see it, a vortex of crimson. He could feel the connections the magic gave him. The strongest tie was to the Savior beside him, shimmering gold in the space between them. Even further, he could see lines like red ropes, anchoring to the land, the shields, the magic, the Alter Room, the ring of his mother, the infinite number of items his family created, protected, worshiped, hid away. He couldn't hold back the scream as the lines became even more numerous and thick, wrapping around him and sinking into his magical pulse.

One line shown silver among the red and gold and he stared at it, watching as it streaked across the vacuum and bound itself to the Minister of Magic. Rufus Scrimgeour twitched and then his mouth opened in anger and horror, watching as his name became silver and then black. Draco snarled as he grabbed that silver line and began to tug it, hoping to break it. He wanted no tie to that man.

It was as painful as he expected and he could not get the tie loose himself. Then Harry's hand was over his and he added his strength to Draco's. The tie crumbled in their hands. The large red wings pulsated and beat at the air. The vortex crashed into him one last time and he could feel the magic entering him through his flesh. Before he could scream, it was over. The wings were gone. The lines on his back were scars once more. He couldn't see the golden tie between himself and Harry and when he took Harry's hand, there was no longer any lightning.

The ritual was complete. Draco was the Malfoy Patriarch.

-X-

The circle around the wand was straining to contain it. He'd never seen anything like it before and the magical surge was causing the wand to spin violently. Red and gold sparks were shooting out of the end and pelted off the rim of the circle. It built up speed until it became a blur of motion, erupting what had to be an entire Weasley store's worth of fireworks. It wasn't benevolent magic, either, as it smoked and hissed. When the hawthorn wand finally came to a stop, the tip of the wand had inscribed into it the head of a snake, jaws open and fangs extended. A spark of red magic lingered in the image, looking like a malevolent eye.

He laid his hands on the table to further inspect the item when it broken and crumbled under him. Only the circle he'd drawn around the wand remained in tact, though it was looking a little worse for wear. He flicked his wand and levitated the circle from the mess on the floor and watched it hover. He needed to get it to the Minister, knowing a display like that was not a good omen on his part.

-X-

Hermione stared in wonder at the magic swirling around Harry. It had begun to become visibly red and human-shaped before her eyes. The two large wing-like shapes were stretched out widely and obscured a large part of the magic's shape, but she could tell it was meant to be a person. Cords were stretched out into the air, fading away as it neared the wall. There was a brilliant gold cord between the red magic and Harry. The bond!

Wonder and awe filled her as she stared at them. She'd remember this forever. What she was witnessing... The wings faded and so did the thick cords. Harry's hands rose quickly.

-X-

The magic shook the prison with the strength of a hurricane. Dementors spilled out of the walls, circling the prison like frightened carrion birds. Red and gold magic, the scent of jasmine, filled the narrow halls.

A shadow stood before Draco. There was no discernible features or a distinct profile to even make a guess at the shadow's identity. Pale white hands lifted.

-X-

“It's done now.” Draco said as he turned to face Harry, instead of standing at his side. He shown like a star, a silver glow that lit him from behind. “Father's gone. Mother's on her way to you. Severus will be helping you get my wand. I'll end this.”

“We'll end this.” Harry promised as he raised his hands and cupped Draco's face. Draco nodded.

“Severus took memories from my father and mother. Watch them and share them with me. I might be locked up but I'm not shut out.”

“First thing in the morning, I'll get you your wand. I'll make whoever took it suffer.” He said viciously. Draco smiled, a poisoned, dangerous grin, and lifted his own hands so they were mirroring Harry's. There weren't any crackles or sparks when their skin touched, just the natural tingles from attraction.

“Whoever did this to my family will suffer.” Draco said softly. “Get me out of here. You have promises to keep, hero.”

“I never break my promises.” He smiled and lowered his head a bit, placing a soft kiss to Draco's forehead. “I'll be right beside you.” His nose brushed a pale cheek. “Every step of the way.” He exhaled warm breath beside Draco's parted lips, not intending to kiss him but waiting.

“You better be.” Draco whispered back, raising his chin to brush lips with the dark hero. “Or else.” Harry smiled slightly, sealing the small gap between their lips determinedly. Draco reciprocated for the longest time, but it remained chaste and comforting. Harry pulled away first, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist and holding him tightly.

“Stay safe, Draco.”

“I'll be fine. Don't fuck up the ritual tomorrow, Potter, or I'll give your ear a twist so hard you'll be hearing things backwards.”

Harry let out a soft bark of laughter and let Draco slip out of his arms. Draco's hand trailed down his arm until their fingers touched. They paused, linking them briefly, before they let go and the world around them...vanished.

-X-

The red figure pulled away, hovering with Harry's hand for a moment and then, disappearing. Hermione lowered the shield charm, staring at her best friend where he stood in the center of the room. His eyes were closed and his shoulders taunt, but there was a relaxation there that wasn't before.

“Harry?”

He slowly opened his eyes and turned to meet hers.

“Yes, Hermione?”

“It's over? Draco's...”

“Draco's fine.” He rubbed his fingers together and she noticed it was the one that had held the magical apparition's hand before it dissipated. “I can feel the bond between us now.”

“That was so powerful though. Are you sure you're both alright?” She asked as she approached him. “Look at what it did to the room. I can hardly think about the damage it must have caused at Azkaban.”

“Draco took the magic in,” Harry said as he glanced around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “I imagine it must have been like this. But there's not really any room in Azkaban cells to cause trouble.”

“He must have chased the Dementors off for a while though. That magic was pure good. It wasn't quite a Patronus, but it had to have packed enough happy feelings to scare them off.” Ron said, gesturing to the mess in the room as if the magic was still hovering about.

“At least there's that.” Harry sighed.

-X-

Draco smiled in the dark at the magic coursing through his body. He felt...powerful. If his father had felt even a quarter of what he felt he could easily understand why he had held himself so proudly. There wasn't any shame in magic this strong. It felt like all he needed was to give thought to his wishes and they would be fulfilled.
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Icarus Syndrome