Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Endurance	By : WinterRaven Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29171 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of Harry Potter universe. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty-One
- 22-Twenty-Two
- 23-Twenty-Three
- 24-Twenty-Four
- 25-Twenty-Five
- 26-Twenty-Six
- 27-Twenty-Seven
- 28-Twenty-Eight
- 29-Twenty-Nine
- 30-Thirty
- 31-Thirty-One
- 32-Thirty-Two
- 33-Thirty-Three
- 34-Thirty-Four
- 35-Thirty-Five
- 36-Thirty-Six
- 37-Thirty-Seven
- 38-Thirty-Eight
- 22
- 23
- 24
Author’s Note: As usual, many thanks to my reviewers and readers. This chapter will be a transitional one, since dark and scary things will soon be emerging in this little world I’ve set up for Harry. More soon. Enjoy.

Twenty-Three

He found Ron and Hermione first.

They were walking together down the fourth floor corridor, lost in conversation. Harry approached them and took them back to Snape’s quarters, remembering Snape’s advice to discuss all private matters in his apartment.

So he told them.

He listed every detail of what had been happening over the past two days, did not gloss over a single moment. He told them about Draco’s confession of his love for Harry, that they had had sex, Lucius Malfoy and Snape’s warnings and the conversation that came after... but he also told them what he neglected to finish over the summer. He told them about the rape, showed them the scars on his wrists and Ron groaned in sadness, holding his head in his hands. Hermione’s eyes were brimming with tears. She cradled Harry’s limp wrists in her palms as the three soaked in what was happening and tried to accept what had just been said.

And the three remained together in contemplative silence for over an hour. Harry was grateful they did not press or prod him with questions, but merely mulled over their thoughts to themselves. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of answering anything too personal.

Elisha had emerged into the dining area during that time, looking forlorn and exhausted and had sat down on Harry’s right. Since she already knew the details of the summer, there was no need to repeat them but when their conversation recommenced, it took a different route.

“We have something to tell you too,” Hermione whispered, leaning over in her chair. She was still holding Harry’s wrists in her hands. “It’s…it’s good news.”

Harry glanced back and forth between his two friends and saw a small smile grace Ron’s thin lips.

“We’re dating,” Ron announced.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up and he gave a huge grin. Elisha was smiling softly by his side.

“That’s amazing,” Harry whispered and Hermione beamed at him. “When did this happen?”

“Not too long ago,” Ron said, pushing his chair so he was closer to Hermione. “But with all the insanity that’s been going on, we didn’t have time to tell you.”

“I understand,” Harry said and with a sigh murmured, “It has been crazy lately.”

“Yes. It has,” Elisha whispered, speaking up for the first time since she arrived.

She and Harry glanced at each other and he noticed the sunken look in her face, the dark circles that seemed to reside permanently under her eyes; he suddenly wanted to be with her alone, wanted to talk to her, ask her what was wrong… He was grateful that Ron and Hermione seemed to understand.

They pulled themselves from Harry’s company—Ron with a long, hard hug and Hermione with a swift kiss on the cheek—and after their goodbyes to both Harry and Elisha and plans to have dinner the next evening, they departed.

Harry and Elisha sat alone for some time. With a little flick of her wand, she turned extra lamps on in the room, as only one small one had been illuminating the dark chamber.

“How is everything?” she asked Harry quietly.

He turned to face her directly, so they were knee to knee.

“Good,” Harry whispered. “More than good. Do you know about me and Draco?”

A small smile flattered her exhausted features.

“I heard you guys actually, this morning.”

Harry felt an intense blush taking over his face; he tried to sputter an apology but Elisha held her hand up.

“It’s about time, really,” she said, smirking. “He’s liked you for ages.”

“I know,” Harry commented, trying to shake his blush away. “I’m sorry we were loud—”

“Really, it’s fine—”

“But that means…well, it means Snape probably heard…and—” Harry gulped and he felt his embarrassment multiplied a tenfold. “Draco’s father.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Elisha said matter-of-factly, staring out the window now into the night sky. “They always put up silencing wards.” She snapped her eyes back to Harry.

“Where is your father, by the way?” Harry asked.

“With Dumbledore.”

“Oh,” he murmured, looking down at his hands. His wrists still remained upright so his scars were exposed and he sighed, remembering Draco’s imploring look, how desperately the blonde wanted to know, understand his pain. “Draco knows about the cutting.”

Elisha was silent but she leaned forward, listening hard.

“I told him. I told him everything.”

“I think that’s for the best,” she whispered.

Harry glanced up at her.

“Why do you look so sick?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“I haven’t been sleeping.”

“Is it because of…of what happened a few nights ago?” Harry questioned tentatively. They had not spoken about that night—the evening they rescued Draco from his attackers, the night Elisha displayed prodigious, dangerous skill.

She nodded without hesitation.

“H-how…how did you do those things?” Harry whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…those spells… I’ve never seen anybody use those before. They were very powerful, weren’t they?”

“Yes,” she murmured, not looking at Harry now.

“What did you do to them?”

She sighed, a low sound that barely escaped her lips. She suddenly looked years older.

“They got what they deserved,” was all she said, but this was not enough for Harry. He frowned.

“But…they haven’t woken up… it’s been almost three days—”

“And I would have killed them if I could,” she snarled, now glaring at Harry as though he were accusing her of wrongdoing. Harry recoiled in his seat, almost as though he had been slapped. She looked demented, deranged, overzealous, her face glowing in rage. “Did you see one of those fools try to throw a Killing Curse at me? They wanted me dead as much as I wanted them finished!”

Harry didn’t know what to say.

“I love Draco,” she muttered, her head now in her hands so her voice was barely audible. “I love him like a brother. I thought he was going to die and I had to do my best to ensure he could be avenged.”

“I know,” Harry whispered. “But do you really think those people deserve death?”

She peered up at him through her hands and hissed under her breath. It was an ugly sound that frightened Harry.

“How can you say that to me?” she snarled again, dropping her hands into her lap. “How can you say that and be with him—?”

“I want to protect him as much as you do,” Harry implored, now leaning forward more. He needed her to understand. “That night, I…I wanted to hurt them—yes, I wanted to kill them—but we’re not savages, Elisha. The difference between us and them is that we can overcome the instinct to kill.”

She did not respond.

“I do care for Draco… I-I care for him a lot,” Harry whispered; he felt a swell of emotion run through him and the only words that wanted to burst through his lips were that he loved Draco; but the emotion was too much, the feeling threatened to consume him and he had to focus on stilling his breathing before saying, “But I don’t think even he would want them dead.”

She blinked and her expression switched from rage to sadness.

“I…I don’t know what it is to love,” she murmured suddenly, boring into Harry’s eyes. “I don’t know what it is to love like you and Draco or…or like Ron and Hermione or even my father and Lucius… but I just—I wanted to help him. I wanted to do the best I could. I-I feel like I’ve failed Draco somehow—”

She choked back a sob and her hands smothered her face. Harry felt a pang in his chest and he rushed forward, scooping her in his arms. He knew exactly that feeling of insecurity, incompletion, inadequacy and he wanted to wash it from her; he never wanted her to have this feeling again.

“Elisha, look at me,” he whispered, forcing her head upward. “You saved him more than me, Ron and Hermione combined. If it weren’t for you, your spells, your quick thinking…I-I don’t think we’d be in our current situation; I don’t…” He gulped at the realization, “I don’t even know if he’d be alive. Ron, Hermione and I were overwhelmed. We couldn’t have helped Draco without you.”

She hiccupped softly.

“So please,” Harry continued, “I’m begging you—please, don’t think you weren’t vital. Don’t think that you aren’t vital. You saved his life.”

She nodded glumly as Harry embraced her, her head resting against his chest.

“I can hear your heart,” she whispered.

Harry smiled down at her as she wrapped her thin arms around his waist.

“I’m glad you and Draco are together. He deserves someone like you,” she said quietly. “I know you will love him with everything you have.”

Harry felt the overwhelming emotion flood back into him and he whispered, “I do love him, Elisha. I do.”

He said it. Admitted it, even though it scared him.

He loved Draco Malfoy, loved him, wanted nothing more than to protect him and care for him always, wanted to know everything about him, every last detail whether it was good or bad, wanted to wake up and sleep next to the blonde every night. The realization frightened Harry out of his wits, the fact that this wasn’t just an infatuation, or lust, or a silly little crush—this was more, it was powerful and all encompassing, took over his body, his brain. It was a feeling he had never before experienced, an indescribable understanding and knowledge that he cared for someone—wanted to care for someone— like his own flesh and blood.

*

Elsewhere in the castle, two other people were having another serious discussion. Snape was holed up in Dumbledore’s office, huffing disagreeably, his arms crossed in annoyance. The old man had called him upstairs an hour ago demanding to speak to him, claiming it was urgent. Snape thought the conversation would be about Potter. The fact that he and Malfoy were now together, inseparable it seemed, perhaps—he thought with a jolt—in love.

But that was not the conversation they had.

Instead, Dumbledore was interrogating him on something else, something that had barely come up in the weeks since he rescued Potter, since the summer, since the debacle at the Department of Mysteries. Something he hoped would not come up for quite some time.

“And you haven’t heard of his whereabouts at all?” the old man pressed, sitting in his high backed chair, giving Snape a piercing look.

Snape sighed, exasperated. He had already answered this question too many times that night.

“No,” the man said shortly.

“Has Lucius?”

Snape blinked, trying to recall if there was any mention.

“I don’t think so. We would have spoken about this.”

“You don’t find this strange, Severus?”

Snape looked away, thinking.

“Sometimes, we have gone months without hearing from the Dark Lord,” Snape whispered. “It is not unusual. He plans in secrecy, as we both know by now. He is also weakened from the failure at the Department of Mysteries. As far as I know, he has been recovering alone—”

“But the Mark hasn’t burned?”

Snape went stiff.

“It did—”

“When?”

“A week or two ago, but it was nothing urgent. It prickled… That also happens occasionally but we are not to come to the Dark Lord’s side unless it burns outright.”

“And Lucius’?”

“It was the same for him.”

“Just a prickle—?”

“Yes.”

Dumbledore sighed, examining the man across from him closely.

“You grow weary of my questioning, Severus,” he said softly and Snape snorted. “But I bother you with them for a reason. I grow worried at Voldemort’s absence. I grow worried about what it means for you and Harry—”

“For Harry?”

“Correct me if I’m mistaken, but he and Draco Malfoy are now an item, aren’t they?”

Snape nodded curtly.

“Lucius and I have already spoken to them about their relationship. We told them they must be discreet.”

“They must indeed,” Dumbledore agreed, leaning forward so his elbows touched his glass desk. “I’m surprised to hear that Lucius Malfoy was a willing participant of that conversation.”

“As was I,” Snape admitted, his voice suddenly tired, as if the strain of the past few days was finally emerging. “But something has changed in Lucius since Draco was attacked. He has taken a new stance with Harry.”

“Meaning?”

“He seems to want to put their past behind them.”

The pause between the two men was absolute.

“Explain,” Dumbledore commanded.

“Harry saved Draco’s life,” Snape said. “He shielded Draco’s body with his own while…while…” Snape broke off and pursed his lips together before continuing, “while Elisha was wreaking havoc throughout the corridor—”

The ends of Dumbledore’s mouth twitched, as though he were trying to contain a smile and Snape frowned at him.

“Don’t tell me you approve?” he snarled at the old man.

“I don’t know if ‘approve’ is the right word, Severus. But I certainly…ah, admire her handiwork.”

“She nearly killed them,” Snape whispered in a low voice. He was unsmiling and cold. “She nearly killed them because you taught her how.”

Dumbledore’s grin fell instantly.

“I would teach her no such thing—”

“Bullshit,” Snape hissed, standing up from his seat. It fell backward to the ground with a clang. “What the hell have you been doing with her, all these weeks, locked up in training? She refuses to speak to me and you—you won’t tell me either!”

“That is between her and I, Severus. She asked me to keep her lessons private.”

“I don’t care what she asked! She is an eighteen year old girl who is too powerful for her own good—”

“Severus, she knew those spells before she got to me,” Dumbledore said, his eyes shining. “She knew a lot before we began our work together. All I’ve taught her—all I’ve tried to teach her—is to harness her powers in a productive way.” Dumbledore cleared his throat, “The last I was aware, I did not summon you here so we could argue about your daughter.”

“No, it was only so you could ask me the same damn questions—”

“Severus!”

The shout of his name shut Snape up immediately. He evened his breathing and tried to master his bubbling anger. Dumbledore rose from his seat and moved so swiftly that before Snape realized what was happening, they were nearly nose-to-nose. Snape held his tongue, nearly biting down on it; for the first time in a long time, he was nervous; he knew he crossed the line.

“You seem to think my methods incompetent, dear friend,” Dumbledore whispered, his eyes narrowing. “But what you don’t comprehend is that my questions have a point, a reason—”

“I apologize, Headmaster.”

Dumbledore shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary. All I will need is your cooperation, as you have graciously given me all these years.”

He swooped from Snape and moved back into his seat; Snape remained standing, blinking as though he were dazed.

“I want to believe that Lucius Malfoy has good intentions,” Dumbledore continued, as though no interupption had occurred in their conversation. “I want to believe this especially since you two have been in a relationship for years and years…but—forgive me, Severus—I am suspicious.”

“I was too,” Snape whispered, as if ashamed at his honesty. “But you did not see Lucius as I did… He—he was broken, for the first time. Truly broken. His son almost died and his family…family means everything to him.”

Dumbledore peered at Snape, imploring him to continue.

“I truly believe Lucius has had a change of heart in terms of his…position in the Death Eaters.”

“Because he now approves—at least a little bit—of Harry Potter.”

“Precisely. And his son’s happiness.”

Dumbledore gave a soft sigh.

“Ah, the powers of love,” he said, his slight smile returning. “Love can redeem even those who are most lost.”

“Certainly,” Snape said stiffly.

“Well now that Lucius has had this change of heart…does that mean we have two double agents working for our cause?”

There was a long silence that followed Dumbledore’s question. Snape eyed him as though he had never seen him clearly before.

“I cannot speak for Lucius.”

“No, I didn’t expect you to,” Dumbledore said, “but I expect him in this office. With his wife. Tonight.”

“And what if they do not accept?”

Dumbledore looked away, lost in thought. He was glancing at his magnificently plumed phoenix before he spoke again.

“You know, Severus, I get the feeling they will.”

*

Harry and Elisha remained in the same position; he stood and she clutched him around his middle. He was still reeling from his confession, and his hands had found hers, holding hard on to them.

He didn’t know if it was too early to feel this, this love, these feelings—should he know this already? Draco had confidence in his love for Harry; the blonde had, after all, admitted to his feelings going as far back as to that fateful day when they met at the robe shop. But they were eleven then—that meant that Draco had years to think this over, years to be certain but Harry felt that same certainty after days, hours.

Harry sighed and told himself he would say nothing to Draco until he was completely certain. He felt Elisha squeeze his waist with her arms before letting go and standing so they stood face to face.

She was about to say something but paused when they both heard Snape’s front door open. There was the sound of many shuffling footsteps and Snape’s voice carried along with Lucius’. There was a tinkle of laughter, of a muffled joke. Harry and Elisha glanced at each other, and she seemed suddenly nervous and fidgety.

The footsteps were getting closer.

“I’m gonna go,” she whispered with a sigh. “Not feeling particularly social at the moment.”

“Okay,” Harry responded and she zoomed quickly away down the hall, bypassing the emerging noise.

The voices seemed to stop in the foyer. There were some greetings as Elisha inevitably ran into the group despite her determination to avoid them. Harry contemplated returning back to his room, not wanting to interfere with the Malfoy family or Snape.

As he turned around however, someone came up behind him, quick and silent.

Harry gasped as an arm wrapped around his waist, a strong chest pressed to his back and hot breath ravaged his ear.

“Did you miss me?” came Draco’s whisper.

His emerald eyelids fluttered; he felt himself melting in Draco’s arms.

“Let’s go to your room. I already said goodnight to my parents,” Draco murmured and when he finished, he sucked Harry’s earlobe possessively.

Harry complied without thinking twice and he soon found himself pushed against a wall, his clothes being ripped from him. He sighed and gave into the bliss that was Draco’s mouth on his nipples, sucking and teasing breathy moans from his lips.

*

There was the slam of her door and when Elisha was secure inside her bedroom, Snape turned to Lucius and Narcissa. The two blondes stood side by side in the foyer of his quarters, Narcissa peering around curiously. She and Draco bore a striking resemblance to each other—they had the same eyes, the same soft features, the same sloping grace. Lucius on the other hand, was much harsher, harder, more rugged—exactly what Snape adored about him.

Snape sighed and then spoke.

“You are required,” he said to the blondes.

“By whom?” Lucius asked in a crisp voice.

“Dumbledore.”

They stared at the dark-haired man.

“The both of us?” came Narcissa’s gentle voice. She pulled nervously at the silver cuffs on her long black dress.

“Yes,” Snape responded.

“Let’s go then,” Lucius murmured.

“But,” Narcissa whispered, her light eyes roaming around the dimly lit space. “What about Draco—?”

“He’s with Potter, most likely,” Lucius said. He and Snape made eye contact and both men flushed slightly.

“So this is really happening?” the woman asked, not removing her eyes from the direction her son last went. She seemed lost in thought.

“It is,” Lucius said.

He put an arm around her slim shoulders and they walked from Snape’s quarters, made the silent journey to Dumbledore’s office. They went up the revolving spiral staircase and Snape knocked on the mahagony door.

“Come in,” came Dumbledore’s muffled voice.

The three entered quietly. Dumbledore was standing by his desk, his arms behind his back, dressed in dark purple robes. He smiled slightly at the sight of the blondes behind Snape.

“Lucius, Narcissa,” Dumbledore said, graciously bowing his head, “Thank you for coming tonight. There are some matters of importance I would like to discuss with the both of you.”

“Well, discuss away,” Lucius drawled.

He pulled his wand from his blazer pocket and waved it, conjuring three marble chairs. He sat in the middle chair, Narcissa to his left and Snape to his right. The three were rigid and narrow eyed and though Lucius tried to pretend he was indifferent, he was certainly interested in what Dumbledore had to say. Narcissa absently played with her extraordinarily long hair, clearly nervous; Snape sat with his thin fingers interlaced and Lucius with his legs crossed.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. He cleared his throat and sighed.

“Let me begin by apologizing on the behalf of Hogwarts for the vicious attack your son endured,” Dumbledore said in a quiet voice, his eyes flashing back and forth between Lucius and Narcissa. “That violence goes against all Hogwarts stands for—equality, fairness, kindness and goodwill. I will personally ensure, when Draco’s attackers finally wake, that they are expelled and charged for their actions.”

“Thank you,” Narcissa whispered. Her eyes were shining. “I thought he was going to die.” Her voice cracked and Lucius turned to her, putting his arm around her again, whispering something comforting into her ear.

“For a little while, we all thought he would,” Dumbledore said sadly. “But he was well cared for—”

“You mean saved,” Lucius interjected.

Next to him, Snape’s hands twitched, as if he were trying to stop himself from grabbing the man near him.

“He was indeed saved,” Dumbledore agreed, nodding his head slightly.

“By Harry Potter,” Lucius said. His voice was strong and clear and he let go of Narcissa to stare Dumbledore directly in the eye.

“Harry certainly played a role in helping your son, yes,” Dumbledore said, “But we mustn’t forget the other students who came to his aid. I am speaking, of course, about his lifelong friend, Elisha and Harry Potter’s friends, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.”

Both Narcissa and Lucius pursed their lips together at the last two names.

“But Potter protected him, covered him,” Narcissa whispered, her voice trembling. “Draco told us so.”

“Harry did risk his bodily well-being by acting as a shield between Draco and the violence from the dueling… but I implore you not to forget that your son owes his life to more than one person,” Dumbledore said.

Narcissa nodded glumly. Lucius did not move and Snape was biting his tongue yet again.

“They are together,” Lucius muttered, his voice hollow.

“They are indeed. And this brings me to the second point of our conversation,” Dumbledore said smoothly, moving from his desk and conjuring his own seat. He took it, mere inches from the three adults staring at him. “I’ve heard you’ve had a change of heart, Lucius.”

Lucius’ eyes flashed to Snape, whose face was bright red.

“Forgive me,” Snape murmured.

“No need to be forgiven,” Lucius said to his partner. He kept his eyes locked on Snape’s but they were not cold, they were swimming with emotion. “You’re right, Dumbledore. I have had a change of heart. Harry Potter’s actions have made me reconsider quite a lot of my previous stances.”

“And mine as well,” Narcissa whispered.

“Potter directly stepped in and protected my son,” Lucius said, still glancing at Snape. “He could have died by doing so. He could have been hit by a spell, could have been maimed. He could have left Draco lying there and fought like the rest of the students but his priority wasn’t himself. It was Draco.” He gave a deep sigh and looked at Dumbledore. “Potter saved one of the most important people in my life. I owe it to him to at least analyze my past behavior.”

Dumbledore smiled slightly.

“How much analyzing have you done, Lucius? And yourself, my dear Narcissa?” Dumbledore asked.

Narcissa spoke first.

“My family has always been my top priority… Ensuring their welfare, their safety. I-I don’t know if other issues take my interest anymore…”

“I echo her sentiments,” Lucius said.

“By ‘other issues’, you mean what, exactly?” Dumbledore questioned.

Lucius’ pale eyes narrowed.

“I think you know exactly what she means,” he said slowly.

“I think I do indeed,” Dumbledore agreed, “But I wanted to make sure I heard this correctly.”

“Well then you’ll hear it from me,” Lucius said, “Narcissa and I have one goal in mind and that is protecting our family, fighting for our family, not for any greater causes or ideals.” He gave Dumbledore an intense look. “That means exactly what you think it does.”

Dumbledore inclined his head forward and whispered, “Voldemort does not let people slip from him that easily.”

Lucius and Narcissa flinched as though they had been branded.

“We’ll figure out a way,” Lucius said, his voice shaking slightly.

Snape’s hand had snaked over to Lucius’ knee and he held it tightly.

“I believe I have a ready-made answer,” Dumbledore said, unsmiling. “It is a dangerous answer but one that will ensure your continued protection, for the present.”

“And what is that?” Narcissa murmured.

Dumbledore inhaled deeply, mulling the words over in his head before he spoke.

“The prospect I am offering you tonight, Narcissa and Lucius, is the same one I offered to Severus. That you two pledge your alligence to the Order of the Phoenix, that you two play the role of double agents, allowing yourselves to stay in Voldemort’s inner circle so that you may report back to me, so that you may aid our efforts to bring down his reign.”

No one said a word.

“There is going to come a time,” Dumbledore continued, his voice soft, “when we must all declare our sides—light or dark. I believe that time approaches soon, quickly, as Voldemort continues to return to power. If you move to our side, the light side, I promise you I will do everything in my hands to keep your family safe. But what you must do in return is—”

“Spy for you,” Lucius whispered, his voice hollow.

“When you put it that way, it certainly sounds unsavory,” Dumbledore remarked. “But that is essentially what I am asking you to do. To switch sides, to do it discreetly, so no one will know but us in this room. So when the time comes when you make it clear that what matters to you most is your family, and by extension of that your love for your family, you will be protected against Voldemort’s wrath.”

Lucius and Narcissa stared into each other’s eyes, silently communicating, soaking in what they had just heard. There was a long pause that seemed to last hours, almost, before one of them finally spoke.

“We have an unconventional family,” Lucius murmured, his voice cracking. He looked at Narcissa with reverence. “If anyone knew…if anyone knew that I was gay, with Severus…that Narcissa and I were married under the agreement that we could pursue outside affairs…we would be in danger too—”

“No one will know,” Dumbledore said, the promise in his voice.

“And Draco—Draco must be protected,” Narcissa whispered.

“He will be,” the old man said.

“Then we agree,” was Lucius’ strong reply. “We agree to your conditions and your proposition.”

Dumbledore took his wand from his pocket and pointed it upward toward the ceiling; a silvery, fog-like substance emerged from it, floating around the room.

“Swear to it,” Dumbledore said, his eyes on the blondes.

“We swear,” they said at the same moment and the silvery wisps fluttered around their mouths for a moment before disappearing entirely.

Dumbledore put his wand back into his robe pocket and gave the three a tired smile.

“I thank you for taking this risk,” he murmured.

Lucius and Narcissa nodded.

“Well,” Lucius said, after a long moment. He cleared his throat and seemed to be stilling himself. “Now that these pleasantries are over, shall we go? I should take Narcissa back to—”

But Lucius’ remark was lost in his throat; it strangled and died away.

His eyes seem to explode out of their sockets and he and Snape gasped in shock in unison. Their eyes found each other’s—black on blue—locking together in a frightened gaze.

They both pulled back their sleeves in haste, glanced down at their forearms and stared.

The mark was burning.

TBC
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Endurance