Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

For the Want of a Nail	By : thewickednix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4934 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. This is made for fun, not profit.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Chapter 23. Simplest Mistake

"It'll be all right." he tells me, kissing my neck as I pull on my trousers. "You saw the twins, they don't care!"
He thinks that I am still upset because of the twins. Of course I am, upset that we could be so stupid as to get caught. But that plays a very small part in my misery right now. I turn towards Harry and am met by brilliant eyes aflame in worry. I kiss him gently on the lips before pulling away. "I know."
A bright smile lights on his face, and he lies back down on the bed to watch me get dressed. "This has its silver lining, you know?" he smiles. I raise a questioning eyebrow at him. "We have at least two people to cover for us if needed, and I don't have to sneak past their room each night when I'm coming to your room."
"'If needed'?" I repeat, seething at him. "Do you plan on getting caught again?"
He snorts loudly and throws a pillow at me, which of course misses its target. I snicker. "Don't spend your whole day in bed." I holler at him as I exit through the door. Yes, don't spend your whole day in bed. You don't have too many left.

I want to kick myself for thinking that thought. I cannot do this. I have to find another way. Who says I have to go to Dumbledore with my find? I can just tell them I haven't found anything and go back to the Manor to look for other options.
But... If I find nothing else, they will eventually send Harry out either way. And he will die. And the Dark Lord will not.
And we will all be doomed.
I sigh deeply as I walk the hall to the library. I silently ask myself why I am not spending what little time Harry has left with him. But I refuse to think like that. I cannot change my routines because of that spell. I refuse to acknowledge that it makes a difference. For if it changes something, then it is real. If it is real... Harry will die.

Harry. Not Potter anymore. One cannot possibly call a dying man by his last name.

___________________________________________________________________

For three days I wander the dark corridors of this house aimlessly, a thousand and none thoughts running through my head. One minute my mind is totally blank, and in the next I have so many thoughts I just want to scream. The minutes run by, and I sink deeper, deeper into this madness. Nowhere do I see a solution.
I cannot be near Harry. He has already noticed that something is wrong. He asks me about it, he yells, he pleads me to tell him. But what can I say? I hate him for dying.
During the night, I fall. I seek him out, push the hate somewhere when I cannot feel it, and love him until morning. But when the sun rises, and I see his pale face lying there beside me, all I see is death. All I see is the inevitable.
It is in one of these moments I realise that this can't go on.
I leave for the Manor again. On the fourth morning I wake and creep soundlessly through the house. In the drawing room, Dumbledore is already waiting for me. Like last time, he tells me of the time of day when I should return, and bids me farewell. Nothing is different. Yet, I feel as if he watches me conspicuously. As if he knows something is wrong.
As always, he probably does.
I hurry to enter the Floo before I have time to even consider telling Dumbledore about my findings. I doubt even he would jeopardize Harry's life like that, but... One can never be too careful. The green flames swallow me, and seconds later I find myself in the Malfoy library. I brush off the soot and am just about to put reach into my pocket and "Connections of the Wand" back in the shelf, when I realise I am not wearing the same robes as I did three days ago.
"Fuck!" I exclaim out loud, and kick the shelf in frustration. Why didn't I check to see that I had the book back with me? Now I can only hope no one finds it at number twelve.
I cast those worries aside and begin anew my quest for finding a spell against the Dark Lord. The next morning I seem to have gone through all the books specialized on curses, and can no longer find a single new spell. Whilst pacing back and forth in front of the fire, I suddenly realise that the library is not the only place with books in the Manor. With trepidation I make my way to Father's study, the perhaps most terrifying place in the whole house.
I reach the thick black door, and it opens with a creak under my hand. It opens to a large bright room, so familiar yet so strange to me. It feels almost humorous to find the room empty, without Father leering at me from behind his large oak desk. Still feeling cautious, I look over my shoulder as I turn towards the bookshelf covering the Eastern wall. Any Auror who came here would only see everyday literature such as "The Standard Book of Spells" or "Advanced Numerology". But as a Malfoy, as soon as I touch the shelf, the books reveal their true identity to me. I am just about to open "Secrets of the Darkest Art" when I suddenly get the feeling I am not alone.
Indeed, when I listen carefully, I can hear someone walking upon the marble floor in the great hall. Panic starts to rise within me as I hurriedly put the book back in its place and creep towards the shut door. I lean against it, ear to the wood, and hear a pair of steps climbing the stairs to the second story. When they finally speak, I feel my mouth fill with ash.
"Do not complain, Bella." Father's cold voice echoes against the stone walls. "It was perfectly right that you were punished. After all, what good does torturing Muggles do if you let them escape in the end?"
"I do not question my punishment, Lucius!" I can hear my aunt's heels stomp furiously against the floor. "I question the lack of yours!"
"What are you insinuating?" My Father sounds irritated.
Bellatrix's mad laugh mauls my ears like knives. "You are a fool, Lucius. First your son disappears to Merlin knows where, and then you let your wife be taken away right under your nose! Why the Dark Lord has not punished you more gravely, I have no idea."
"Stay out of it, Bella!" I can hear Father grind his teeth while they reach the top of the stairs. "No one else noticed the Aurors entering the house, how could I have? To this day I cannot figure out how they got past the wards! And what becomes of Draco, I can not imagine where he has gone."
"Of course you can't." Bellatrix leers sarcastically. "But remember that our Lord is losing patience with you, it won't be long before-"
Their voices fade as they enter the library. As soon as I hear the doors shut behind them, I exit the study quietly and head for the other room that is closest: the drawing room. I sit down on the sofa, furiously trying to think of a way out of this.
It is only a matter of time before they realise I am here. And I cannot Floo back to the head quarters for two more days. I draw a deep breath. There is only one thing I can do. If I cannot hide from them, I have to let them find me. As inconspicuously as possible.
I call for Tilby the house-elf, and luckily she appears before me within a minute.
"Mr Draco called, sir." she says, her large eyes larger than usual. "Tilby did not know you were back home, sir."
I sigh at the nosy elf. "Yes, yes, Tilby, that is irrelevant. Bring me today's Daily Prophet, will you?"
"Yes, sir. Tilby will bring it right away, sir." With those words, the house-elf disappears. I rise to light the fire in the fire place, and as soon as I am done Tilby has re-appeared with the paper on a tray.
"Thank you, Tilby. You may leave now." I mutter, walking past the elf to the double doors and opening both of them widely. Then I return to sit down upon the couch, and wait.
I do not need to wait long. Soon I hear the doors to the library open, and two pairs of shoes exiting the room. I pick up the Daily Prophet, and make a big fuzz of opening the paper so it will make as much noise as possible. I hear Father's footsteps slow down.
"Did you hear something?" he whispers to my aunt, who's steps have now also stopped.
"No, what is it?" she asks quietly.
"I'm not sure..." is the answer. I sigh and hurry to move the table with my foot, causing a loud screeching noise. It seems to do the trick. I no longer hear words, only slow approaching footsteps. I hide my face behind the Daily Prophet just as my father and aunt reach the doors.
"Expelliarmus!" Father roars, and I feel my wand go flying from my pocket. Acting surprised, I take in a loud breath and look up from the paper.
"Father!" I exclaim, rising from my seat. "What are you doing here?"
"We could ask the same of you." Bellatrix answers before Lucius has the time to. The witch sneers at me suspiciously. "Where have you been?"
"It's a long story." I leer back at her before turning to my Father. "How long have you been staying here?"
"Since the end of March." Father answers cautiously. He looks like he's about to continue when Bellatrix cuts him off again.
"We have to take him to the Dark Lord, Lucius!" She hisses, still holding her wand pointed at me. "He could be a spy for Dumbledore!" While I snort incredulously at my aunt, Father nods and charms a rope to restrain my hands. I make no move to free myself, only raise an amused eyebrow at the ropes. Lucius watches me cautiously as he commands Bellatrix to pick up my wand from the floor. My aunt obeys, and soon I am being led down the stairs.
I curse myself for not having realised it earlier. Had not Mother told me Father had spoken to her via the Floo? One cannot Floo into Malfoy Manor unless the Lord of the Manor has opened the Floo Network, which I at that time had not. When the Floo Network is closed, Flooing is only possible within the Manor.
I want to kick myself. The answer was right in front of me!

As we descend the stairs all the way down to the basement, I realise I would probably have noticed the Death Eaters' presence had I entered the first floor the two last times I were here. But through the stone walls, I could not feel them all the way up to the second story. How ironic that my own home has ben harbouring the inner circle of the Dark for months, right under my nose. And now I am to be taken to them myself.
Lucius leads me down the stairs and into the dungeons. A large wooden door opens before me, a door I recognize as the one leading to what used to be my old study. Now a large table occupies one end of the room, at the end of which a very pale, snake-like man is sitting. He raises an eyebrow as we enter, a vicious smile spreading on his thin lips.
"Well, well, Lucius. What is this that you have brought for me?" Lord Voldemort enquirers, his voice sending shivers up my spine.
"Draco Malfoy, my Lord." Bellatrix interrupts Father, bowing for her master. "We found him in the- Aaagh!" Her words end in a scream as the Dark Lord raises his wand at her.
"We do not speak out of turn, do we Bella?" he asks sweetly after having lifted the curse. My aunt rises from the floor on shaking legs. "No, my Lord."
"Now," Voldemort continues, looking at me with interest. "Lucius, release your son."
"Yes, my Lord." Father bows, and with a swing of his wand my ties have disappeared. I let my hands fall to my sides and look directly at the Dark Lord.
"Where was it that you found him?" Voldemort asks Father, not taking his eyes off me.
"In the second floor drawing room, my Lord." Lucius states, looking from Voldemort to me with slight concern. For me or for his own skin, I do not know.
"Why did you not make your presence known, young Malfoy?" the Dark Lord enquirers, his red eyes seeming to pierce my soul. I take a deep breath and fight not to shudder from fear of this monster before me.
"I did not know there was anyone beside me in the house, my Lord. Had I known I would have been by your side immediately." The words leave my mouth so naturally I wonder if there is some truth in them. But as I let thoughts of Harry run through my mind, I find to my relief that there is not. In this moment I promise myself that whatever sacrifices I make, I make for Harry. I have to escape this, for Harry.

"So, Draco, tell me..." The Dark Lord smiles at me, thin lips curling around yellow teeth. I fight hard not to sneer back at him. "What have you been doing these past months? Your father has been awfully worried about you." He looks over to Lucius, still standing beside me. My father looks very calm, but I can hear the blood rushing through his veins at a furious speed.
Father is terrified.
Somehow the thought calms me, and I suddenly know exactly how I will be able to escape from this place. "I was in hiding, my Lord. I thought that much was obvious." I drawl.
Voldemort raises an eyebrow at my cheek. He turns to my father again. "Lucius, haven't you taught your son any manners? Punish him for his insolence!" The Dark Lord turns back to me, a vicious smile gracing his lips at the thought of teaching me a lesson. Lucius hesitates for a second before he lifts his wand. He takes a deep breath.
"Crucio!"
I feel the spell hit me, but instead of producing the desired effect it seems to bounce off me as water from a raincoat. I sneer at the Dark Lord, with mirth watching his smug face fall off as he realises what just happened. The dark wizard stares at me for a second before he turns back to Lucius in frustration.
"Can't you even produce a simple curse, you fool?" He leers as he draws his own wand, pointing it at me. "Crucio!"
Again, nothing happens. The Dark Lord furrows his brow, while Father and Bellatrix look positively terrified. I let a chuckle escape me, the sound echoing hollowly in the almost empty room. "There is no point. It will not work."
"What are you?" Voldemort asks calmly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Looking at me as if I were some very fascinating new weapon. Which infact, I am.
My smile widens. "A vampire."
Tremor spreads through my father's body at my statement, and horror flickers over his face. Bellatrix in turn hisses at me viciously, much like a cornered cat at a snake. I leer at them and turn back to the Dark Lord, who is still observing me thoughtfully. Those red eyes pierce me like blades, and though I want to, I dare not look away.
"Why have you not made this known earlier?" he asks, eying me suspiciously. I force a vicious smile onto my face as I answer.
"I have been travelling. Quite afar, actually." I sneer. "I had to keep myself on the move all the time, so the Muggles wouldn't get too suspicious of all the peculiar deaths."
The Dark Lord raises his eyebrows, his mouth forming into a satisfied leer. "So you've been feeding off Muggles?"
I snort amusedly. "Of course. I couldn't very well hunt wizards when there are too many Muggles as it is."
The smile spreads over the Dark Lord's face. "Well, well, Draco. Who knew you would be such an asset to me?" He raises a pale eyebrow at me. "I assume that you have come to offer me your services?"
I smile mischievously, bowing deeply. "Of course. Anything for you, my Lord."
Oh, how easily it goes. One needs only to prove one's immense power and then proclaim eternal loyalty to him, and the Dark Lord will welcome you to his inner circle. Just like that.
He calls for his closest servants. They sneak into the room, one by one narrowing their eyes as they see me. Some, such as Nott Senior, leer at me viciously, probably thinking that they're going to witness the fabulous show of torturing Malfoy Junior.
Too bad for them.
"Friends!" Voldemort calls out as he steps into the circle formed by the Death Eaters. "I have the joy to announce a new member in our society." He gestures towards me, and I hear several questioning mumbles as I step forward. I ignore them and keep my attention focused on Voldemort.
The Dark Lord continues. "We have now amongst us our greatest weapon!" The confusion spreads within the hooded circle. I snort inwardly at the Dark Lord's antics, but play my part nonetheless. Baring my fangs, I leer at my audience. Shocked gasps echo in the room along with Voldemort's chilling laugh.
"So you see, my dear friends! What could Dumbledore, what could Harry Potter do when faced with a vampire?!" Half-heartedly the Death Eaters join in in the Dark Lord's enthusiasm, nervous chuckles escaping them as they watch me carefully. The only one not laughing is Lucius, who is staring at me with a furrowed brow. I decide to worry about him later, and turn back to observe Voldemort.
"Have we not waited so long to be rid of that brat Potter! Now, we have the perfect means!" the Dark Lord laughs madly, a pale skeleton-like finger pointing at me. "What better way to end the glory of Harry Potter, than to let his army of petty blood-traitors be destroyed by a vampire? Lord Voldemort's vampire!"
The Death Eaters roar, and I smile inwardly. This was easier than I could have ever predicted. As long as I can convince the Dark Lord that I am on his side, as long as he stays at the Manor, I can lead Dumbledore right to him. And maybe if we play on a home-field like this one, Harry won't have to fight.

Harry won't have to die.

___________________________________________________________________

"Where are you going?"
I turn around to find myself face to face with Lucius. He stares at me with narrowed eyes as he glances past me to the stairs.
I raise an eyebrow. "I am going to spend the night in my own room. I can't stay down here, you all smell like garlic after that dinner you had." I drawl, turning around to proceed to the stairs. I hard hand grabs my wrist and pulls me back.
"What are you up to, Draco?"
Suppressing the rising anxiety in my stomach, I snort at my sire. "What are you talking about?"
Lucius looks around us, confirming that no one else is close enough to hear us. He then turns to me, eying me suspiciously. "What have you been doing all these months?"
I raise an eyebrow at him. "Weren't you listening earlier? I was on the move all the time. Hunting."
Father sneers at me, leaning closer, hissing. "Then why didn't you come back when your mother was captured? One would think that would have lured you out of your hiding place."
I put on a mournful face, which isn't hard considering the topic. "I'm sorry Father, but what would it have helped Mother if I had revealed myself? The only thing I can do is to fight for our Lord, and a suicide mission such as rescuing Mother from Azkaban does nothing to help that." Putting on the most believable little Death Eater-face I can muster, I sigh somberly. "When our Lord rises again, Mother will be rescued, and our family will be rewarded for our loyalty."
Father nods slowly. "I am pleased to find you have finally taken your rightful place in our family." His words are pleasant, but I still sense suspicion behind them. Unable to do anything about it now, I nod curtly and turn towards the stairs.
"Good night, Father."
Father does not answer, and I do not expect him to. Walking in a leisurely pace, I make my way to the third story and my own bedroom. I close the door behind me and lie down upon the bed. As if I really could sleep.
I let out a tentative sigh, not quite sure if I should be panicked or celebrating. I did not find another spell. I found the Dark Lord. I found a way to lead the Order straight to him.
I found a way to save Harry.
Now, all I have to do is convince the Dark Lord to let me leave tomorrow. I will tell him I need to feed, and Floo to the Leaky Cauldron. From there, I will then Floo to Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore will then summon an emergency meeting, and a plan will be made. Then, after three or perhaps four days, I will return to the Manor. The Dark Lord will be pleased and have no reason to suspect anything. Should he suspect anything... Well, he cannot torture me, so how would he find out anything anyway?
Yes, this will work beautifully. As long as everything goes according to plan.

_________________________________________________________________

He left again. Not that I hadn't known he would, but I had hoped, wished foolishly.
Three days is not a long time. But it is hard to keep up the facade in front of everyone else, it's hard to pretend no to be worried. Because I am. Worried.
As I lie awake in the night, trying to sleep, my mind gets no rest. What if something happens to Draco? What if he, like everyone else I know, will get into danger because of me? What if something happens when he is away, and no one notices he is gone before it is too late?
I rise from my bed and walk as quietly as I can to Draco's room. Lying down on his bed, I stare up at that familiar ceiling, trying to imagine him next to me. It doesn't work. I reach for a pair of robes lying on the floor and pull them next to me in the bed, breathing in the scent of Draco. That at least makes things a little easier.
But as I hug the cloth close to me, I feel something hard dig in to my side. I reach for the pocket, and pull out what I find to be a miniature book. Why would Draco carry around something like that?
Curiosity getting the best of me, I reach for my glasses and my wand. I put on my glasses and point my wand at the book. "Engorgio!" The book enlarges to five times its original size, and I can finally read the worn out cover.
"Connections of the Wand" I read out loud, wondering silently what Draco was doing with such a book. This hardly has anything to do with defeating Voldemort. As I turn the book in my hands though, I notice a marked page. I open the book at the marked spot, dust and soot flying into my eyes from the pages. When I finally manage to stop coughing, I can read the small script.

Contandem Recolo.
- 22
- 23
- 24
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

For the Want of a Nail