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The Stag and The Snake	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9713 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
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Chapter 10 – Shattered

Chaos descended. Guests were crying out exclamations of shock and horror. Lucius and Narcissa were fighting their way through the choking crowd, trying to reach their son. None of the activity around Draco registered with him. He slid to his knees, staring ahead with wide, horror-struck eyes.

A pair of strong hands gripped his shoulders and dragged him to his feet. Someone was yelling, and his body lurched sharply as he was shaken. What did it matter? He'd killed Harry. Nothing mattered anymore. “Dammit Draco, snap out of it!” He lurched again, and he blinked, looking up to see Sirius above him, his eyes wide and angry. He blinked slowly. Why was Sirius bothering?

A sharp sting, and his head snapped sideways. It took Draco a moment for it to register that he'd been slapped. He turned back to Sirius's angry expression, but did not verbalize the scathing remark that rested upon his tongue. “Take us to Harry,” he said in a commanding tone.

“What for?” Why were they bothering? It was fruitless.

“Damn it Draco, just do it! It's not over yet. You have to know that it's not over.” Draco glowered at him, but did not bother to voice his disagreement. What good would it do? The man would only continue to hit or shake him until he granted his wish. Glaring at Sirius, he reached out and gripped the man's arm, while Remus grabbed hold of Draco's shoulder. Focusing on the edge of his family's property, he disappeared with a crack just as his parents reached them, crying out his name in frightened, anguished voices.

They arrived at their destination, and promptly fell into a heap amongst the towering trees. Draco felt strangely crowded, and after disentangling himself from the two older wizards, he realized why. An assembly of animals of every kind ringed the magical barrier in a semicircle, predators and prey standing together and watching in still silence. Draco turned, and let out a soft, anguished cry. Harry was lying there, his hair soaked with sweat, his skin white as snow, and his lips tinted blue. Snape was nowhere to be seen.

Not waiting to see if Remus and Sirius were all right, he ran forward, his sight blurring as thick tears tumbled from his eyes and streaked his cheeks. Draco fell to his knees at his lover's side. “No, no, no, please...” He lifted Harry's head gently and rested it in his lap. He felt so terribly cold, his skin was clammy and his hair was sweat-soaked. He stroked the dark, damp locks, his own tears dripping onto Harry's still flesh. “Wake up Harry,” Draco whispered, his voice barely above a choked whisper, “please, please, wake up.” He curled forward, clinging to the body as a fresh wave of grief overwhelmed him.

He felt Sirius and Remus join him, but Draco refused to look up or acknowledge them. He'd killed their son. How could he ever look them in the eye again? Draco felt a warm air brush over his skin, a sensation of a gentle spell. Why were they bothering? Harry was dead. Draco had killed him.

“Draco,” Remus's soft voice broke through Draco's haze of anguish and guilt.

“No,” he choked, clinging more tightly to Harry's still form.

“Draco please, look at me.” Draco shook his head, shuddering as he fisted the faded, tattered robes Harry was dressed in. Hands grabbed him then, feeling so hot in contrast to Harry's cold.

“No!” he wailed, struggling against Sirius, fresh tears joining their fellows upon his cheeks. The man forced Draco's gaze away from his lover, and still Draco struggled. He had to get back to Harry. He needed him.

“Draco listen,” Sirius said so fiercely that he actually gave pause, and looked at the man. Sirius's face was white and his eyes were wide and fearful, but he was a great deal more composed than Draco was, which startled him. “Harry isn't dead.”

“What? But...but...he's cold...” Draco trailed off, scrambling to recall the mountains of source material they had dug through during their time at Grimmauld Place. His mind seemed to have created a mental block, and he could not understand how or why Harry could still be alive.

“He will be soon, though.” Remus said grimly, his entire form exuding tense anxiety. “He is holding on by a thread.” Sirius finally released Draco, and the three of them sunk to their knees, circling the young man. Draco felt fresh tears slide down his cheeks, and he extended a trembling hand, smoothing the untidy black hair away from his eyes. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Please wake up Harry,” he whispered, his voice hitching as he tried to compose himself, to little effect. Sirius and Remus had each taken one of Harry's hands, looking on helplessly, their expressions riddled with guilt and grief. “Harry?” His voice caught again, and behind him, he heard a dark laugh.

“Oh how it must hurt,” Snape said scornfully, watching the scene with something close to glee in his eyes. He pulled out a wand—Harry's wand, Draco realized with a jolt, and based on the shocked and disgusted looks on Sirius and Remus's faces, they had noticed it too. Snape caressed the length of wood lightly. Rage replaced Draco's anguish, while Snape's gaze never left him. He and stood and stared down his former Head of House with a look of deepest loathing. “Shall I put you out of your misery, Mr Malfoy? Or should we start with the canines?” He chuckled, but a quick flick of the wand knocked Sirius backward, who at that same moment had stood and moved to draw his own wand. Sirius grunted in pain, and returned to Harry's side, shaking a little from the aftereffects of whatever curse Snape had hit him with. Remus reached towards him, but Sirius shook him off, refocusing his angry gaze on Snape.

“Sit and stay, there's a good boy. Your death is long overdue Black, but first allow me to deal with the lover.” He sneered the word, as though the idea of Draco being anything to Harry was laughable. Draco drew his wand and clutched it tightly. He swallowed his fear, well aware that Snape was known for being an accomplished Duellist. Did he really have a chance of coming out of this alive? Draco's heart thundered in his chest. Behind him, he heard a sharp rustling noise, and the faint hiss that he recognized as Remus's voice. He did not need to see them to know that Remus was trying to keep Sirius from rushing at Snape.

“You mean to duel me, boy?” The jibe made Draco's stomach clench. He felt almost sick with fear, and as Snape leered at him, he could feel his mask of feigned bravery beginning to crumble. But when he cast a brief glance back to the still form of Harry, it filled him with a surge of anger and desire for justice. Snape needed to pay. He refocused his glare upon the older man. Something in his expression made Snape laugh again. The sound made Draco feel very small, but he refused to let his intimidation show. Without warning, Snape struck.

The severing charm just barely missed, and Draco hissed sharply in surprise and pain when he felt it skin his cheek as it shot past. His brief gratefulness for his ingrained Seeker instincts was short-lived as he heard the groan of a large tree behind him begin to give way. He spun, eyes wide with horror as a large oak began to tip forward, straight for Harry. Horror-struck, he lifted his wand, but had no idea what he could do. It was too big for him to transfigure, and he had no idea if a Banishing Charm would be strong enough to stop it.

“First mistake, Mr Malfoy!” A burning pain hit Draco squarely in the centre of his back and he choked, spitting up a mouthful blood as he fell onto all fours. “Never take your eyes off your enemy!” He cried out a second time as the curse hit him again, and he gagged on the cloying, coppery taste in his mouth.

Draco lifted a trembling hand, knuckled white around the hawthorn wand, but at that moment, it felt as though it held the same usefulness as an ordinary stick. Shaking, he watched as two streams of light engulfed the falling tree, transfiguring it as easily as blinking. The wood shavings and leaves fluttered to the ground like snow.

“Go!” Remus shouted, lowering his wand from where the tree had been, while he and his Bonded boxed Harry in, protecting him from further harm. Draco didn't verbally respond but instead turned and pulled himself up on trembling limbs, staring down his enemy. The blood on his mouth made it feel as though his lips had been glued together. He lifted his wand again and flicked it, but his curse was deflected so easily Draco felt his stomach knot fearfully again. This seemed hopeless.

“Do you understand yet, Mr Malfoy?” Snape sneered, “you are a but a wailing child compared to me. You cannot win. Continue down this path and you will end up as dead as your lover.” He spat the last word like a curse, but the reference to Harry spurred Draco forward, and he slashed his wand through the air. The charm was deflected again, but this time it came straight back at him. Only Draco's swift movements stopped it from slicing him in two. Staggering up he saw Snape flick Harry's wand almost lazily, a nearby boulder transfiguring into a dozen small but deadly-sharp daggers. They flew threw the air straight towards him.

Draco reacted more swiftly than he had thus far, and caught the weapons with a charm, they moulding into one long sword, before clattering to the ground near his feet. He dropped down to grab it with his free hand, and not a moment too soon as he felt the tug of a summoning charm, but managed to hold fast to the weapon. Draco could feel himself shaking from the effort to stay standing, whatever curse Snape had hit him with earlier was still agonizingly painful, but he refused to let the man win. He refused to let Harry's killer walk away from this.

Something in Draco's stance seemed to amuse Snape, as he threw back his head and barked a laugh. “You mean to kill me Mr Malfoy? You can barely stand!” As if to prove a point, he slashed the wand in a great, sweeping arc, and a jet of blue light shot towards him. It tore through Draco's Shield Charm as though it was merely a soap bubble, and he cried out, his knees buckling as the curse sunk into his shoulder.

“Draco!” He heard Sirius call his name, but he knew it would be foolish to lose sight of Snape. He heard Remus murmur something, but he could not catch it. His arm hung uselessly at his side, the shoulder dislocated by the curse, and the sword clattered to the ground. Struggling to keep his mind focused through the pain, he moved to stand but gasped from the near-overwhelming pain as his legs refused to support him.

Another curse hit him before he could move to defend himself, and he choked over the pain as thick gashes blossomed upon his chest, leaving his clothing in tact and shredding the skin beneath, staining the fabric a deep, dark red. The pain was blinding, and he coughed, his phlegm coming out red upon the ground before him. Draco tried to stand, but the pain, the blood loss, and the trauma of losing Harry was too much. He couldn't do it. He couldn't save Harry, and he couldn't avenge him. Defeated tears stung his eyes, but he barely noticed them over the thrum of his other injuries.

The soft crunch of leaf litter was the only indication that Snape had stepped forward. Draco looked up, his vision swimming, blinded by tears and dizzy from the blood loss. His palms pressed into the hard ground, and he felt cold steel brush his fingertips. The Sword.

“Did you think you ever stood a chance against the likes of me?” Cold fingers brushed his chin, and Draco shuddered. Those hands had hurt Harry, over and over, for years. “You never did. You will die a pathetic, forgettable death. No one will care to remember you.” His black eyes glittered ominously, “And when I finish with you...” his eyes flicked towards Remus and Sirius before returning to focus on Draco. He chuckled, while Draco curled his fingers around the hilt. Snape's fingers continued to hold Draco's chin in hand, staring him down almost hungrily, as though he desired nothing more than to see him suffer.

“Are you ready to join your lover?” Snape purred the words, caressing Draco's chin with unsettling tenderness. Draco shivered, but refused to turn his gaze away. He didn't know what to say, and inside he felt cold. He needed to act, and soon. He could already feel his strength beginning to ebb. Taking a shuddering breath, he stared back at Snape, refusing to give the man the satisfaction of showing how weak he felt, both physically and mentally. Snape came closer, and Draco saw the opening he was looking for.

“Say hello to the Dark Lord for me,” Draco growled, and Snape's brow furrowed in confusion. Fuelled by a sudden burst of adrenaline, he lifted the sword and plunged it into the man's chest. As if the Fates approved of his actions, the blade slid smoothly between the ribs and directly into the organ he sought. He could feel the weapon jar as it sliced through muscle and tendon, and the man above him froze.

Snape's eyes bulged, his mouth open in a perfect 'o' of shock, and Draco could see blood in his mouth. The whole forest seemed to still, watching the fall of Harry's tormentor, and all the air seemed to rush back into Draco's lungs as the man keeled over, dark blood pooling beneath his limp form.

Silence fell once more, and Draco felt cold despite the warmth in the air. He turned to Remus and Sirius, unsure why he didn't feel happier. Snape was gone, Harry was free. Draco crawled forward and pried the holly wand from the dead man's grasp, then slipped it inside his robes. He felt strangely warm, despite the hollow despair that refused to leave him. He tried to stand, but staggered and fell with a gasp of pain. In a moment Sirius was there, looping an arm around his shoulders. He helped Draco stagger to the still form of Harry, and a fresh wave of guilt-ridden nausea washed over him.

Despite Sirius's careful movements, it was still agonizingly painful to move. Draco's breath hitched, and he grimaced as he lurched forward over to where Remus waited. Draco sunk to the ground near Harry's head, his own breath coming out shallowly. He felt as though he couldn't properly catch his breath. Sirius sat down and took one of Harry's hands. His facial expression was as hollow as Draco felt.

Draco reached out a trembling hand. Harry was so pale. Dark, bruising circles rested below his eyes, and the blue tint of his lips seemed more pronounced. Draco's breath caught in his throat, and a strangled sob tumbled out of his mouth, all dignity forgotten as he mourned him. Tear tracks cut through the blood and grime upon his face. For all his effort, Harry was still gone. Draco lifted his good arm, and brushed his fingers lightly through the untidy hair. Neither Sirius or Remus spoke, the three of them staring down at the boy between them. Years of their lives devoted to finding him, bringing him home safe, and suddenly Draco felt as though it was all for nothing. Harry was still lost to them. A single tear dripped from Draco's chin and landed softly upon Harry's cheek.

On either side of him, Draco was only vaguely aware of Sirius and Remus's presence. He felt as though he'd failed them by letting Harry die. He could see Remus trembling slightly in his peripheral vision, and Sirius's wet, hitching breaths filled the silence as he fought to control himself. Draco reached out a tentative hand, sliding it from Harry's hair to trace the contours of his face with his thumb. Ignoring his own pain, dulled somewhat by his grief, Draco leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss upon Harry's forehead.

Harry's breath hitched suddenly, making his mourning loved ones lurch away in shock. They exchanged confused, but hopeful looks, then shifted their gazes back to Harry. His chest was rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. His head turned to the side of its own accord, and Harry coughed wetly. He went still again, and Draco tensed. “Harry?” he asked tentatively. His hands trembled as he reached out to touch him, but Harry's skin still felt cold, but less like ice and more like he had been out too long on a winter day. Sirius and Remus drew in on either side of him, looking down at Harry with wide-eyed fear and hope. Could he really be waking up? Draco could feel Remus and Sirius on either side of him, holding their breath as they all watched Harry apprehensively.

Ever so slowly, Harry's eyelids quivered before finally sliding open. His eyes were hazy, as though someone had stretched a thin grey film over them. He blinked hard several times, his gaze flitting from Remus, to Draco, to Sirius, and back again. It was as though he could not believe what he was seeing. As his eyes cleared, the look of confusion became more pronounced, and almost fearful. He looked at Draco, as though searching for confirmation that he was not, in fact, dead. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Draco?” Harry's voice was low and hoarse, and he coughed a few times following his words. “Sirius? Remus?”

“We're here,” Sirius said softly, squeezing the hand that he held. Harry still looked fearful, as though he could not believe his eyes. He kept looking from one face to the next, then he would squeeze his eyes shut before opening them again, as though trying to convince himself that he was not seeing things.

“What happened? Where am I?” His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Draco, and guilt overshadowed the fright. “You're hurt,” He turned his head and coughed again, but his voice was still a quiet rasp.

“I'm okay, really,” Draco forced a smile, and he ran his thumb gently across Harry's cheek. The reassurance did not seem to fully placate him, as Harry still stared up at him with a grief-stricken expression.

After a few moments of silence, Harry shifted his gaze to his adoptive parents, and his eyes glazed over. First he looked to Sirius, then to Remus, his eyes darting back and forth, but his head never moved. Draco watched him uncertainly. “I'm sorry,” his voice broke, and a single tear trickled down his cheek.

Draco shifted back, masking the grimace of pain as best he could as the pair lurched forward and embraced Harry. Harry clung back to them, and even from where Draco sat, he could hear the short gasps of Harry trying to keep himself from crying. He watched the scene, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips.

Sirius and Remus had been waiting for this moment for a very, very long time and it made Draco's heart swell with joy as he watched it. “You're going to be okay Harry,” he heard Sirius say softly, “we're going home.” When they pulled back, both men's faces were wet with tears of joy.

They stood slowly, almost reluctantly, and Harry moved to follow. With a sharp gasp, he fell back, wincing at his head knocked lightly against the ground. Panicked, Draco hurried the handful of paces to Harry, but he stumbled and fell, gasping in pain as his grievous injuries seemed to come back to him in full measure. He groaned and clutched at his bloodied robes, remembering all too suddenly that Snape had all but cut him to ribbons.

His vision was hazy from the blood loss, and he looked up to Remus and Sirius. They had a slightly warped looked to them, like someone observing them from beneath a lake. “It's okay Draco,” Sirius's voice sounded strangely off in his ears, though he could not place why. “Rest now, we'll get you home.” Draco lay down next to Harry and they gazed at one another with the same exhausted look. Even so, their mouths stretched into identical expressions of joy, despite their exhaustion. Draco reached forward and grasped Harry's hand gently. Harry shifted his fingers to lace with Draco's, and his eyes fluttered shut. He followed suit, though the small smile never left his face.

No matter what happened now, Draco knew everything would really, truly be okay.
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The Stag and The Snake