Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Survival of the fittest	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 18501 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor profit from it. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling

Chapter List
- 27
- 28
- 29
Author's note: I managed to keep my promise - somewhat. At least it's still posted in January, right? ^^; My exams are finally done, so I managed to finish this chapter during the last two days. I didn't even think it would become this long, but I suppose you could consider it some sort of apology for waiting almost an entire month *coughs*
Apologies in advance if the chapter seems awkward - I had a lot of trouble completing it, despite knowing where to go with it, so it may seem awkward at times. I guess being sleep deprived doesn't help much either =_= Either way, I promise to make the next one less awkward!
Thanks to the following reviewer: staar
Warnings: angst, drama, a lot of pov shifts (I think the only ones who didn't get a pov in this one are Harry and Narcissa), baby drama. I think those are the major ones
I hope you'll like it! (Despite the awkwardness surrounding some of the scenes)

Chapter 28: Completed Circle Part 2
"How many corridors are there in this place?" Lupin muttered darkly.
"Quite a lot, I suspect; giving which family owns it," Severus retorted flatly. He studied the walls with a keen eye.
Potter's cat, Ruby, had taken up the lead and was leading them through a broad corridor. The ground was uneven at some points and had the men paying extra attention to where they placed their feet to avoid stumbling or taking a nasty fall.
Lupin growled – showing what kind of animal he turned into once a month – and squared his shoulders.
Severus let him mutter darkly to himself and concentrated instead on their surroundings. There didn't seem to be any traps in this corridor or the ones they passed through before and it made him question why. Wouldn't it be easier to set up traps in the corridors so that potential thieves wouldn't be able to trespass deeply?
How much of these traps in the rooms were courtesy of the Black family and how much were of Albus' own making?
Was it even possible for the old fool to create traps in this tomb?
Most likely, he admitted quietly to himself. If he had gained access to this tomb, it wouldn't be that farfetched to imagine that he was also capable of leaving traps behind.
So the question remained: how much of these traps were the Blacks' work and how much Dumbledore's?
Two thin candles flickered to life when the corridor ended up in a small room.
Warily, both men stepped forwards and looked around; Ruby sniffing the ground quietly.
This room contained two coffins – both made of some black wood and decorated with silver symbols. Next to each coffin a chair – decorated with a thick, green, satin pillow – was placed and at the foot of each coffin a wooden box stood. There was only one other entrance, which was half covered by a red cloth.
"Rather plain room," Lupin commented softly; his fingers trailing absentmindedly along his wand. "I doubt we'll find the portrait here."
"Still it is better if we do a quick search through," Severus murmured and went over to the coffin on the left side. After using a Detection spell, which revealed nothing dangerous, he first opened the box and peered into it. Nothing but dusty notebooks and a single dead spider. His fingers twitched with the desire to pick up a notebook and browse through it, but he restrained himself. No matter how much it annoyed him that the Black family had kept a fairly large source of knowledge hidden from the rest of the world, he couldn't let himself be distracted by it.
They were here for one thing only and that didn't include any of the notebooks, files or books.
While Ruby was examining the walls and the floor and Lupin the coffin next to him, Severus stepped forwards and studied the coffin in front of him intently. He doubted that a portrait would fit in it, but …
He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, taking another step forwards. There was something about the coffin that didn't seem right. Something was off about it. But what? The wood was the one every Pureblood family used and aside from some protection charms against fire, there was nothing else added to it.
The paint was nothing special either and the symbols didn't call up any strange creature or used a dark form of magic.
Yet something was tugging at his mind; something that was screaming at him and practically pointing out that something was wrong with it.
His wand casually resting in his hand, he placed his other hand on top of the coffin, feeling the smooth, cold wood. No magical spark. No resistance whatsoever.
Instead of feeling reassured, he grew more wary.
He was now so close to the coffin that his robes brushed against the wood. He studied the side closest to him and his eyebrows shot up once he noticed what exactly was wrong with the coffin.
The lid had been moved to the left for an inch. It hadn't been immediately obvious, because the two candles in the room were too weak to provide decent light.
"Lumos," he murmured and held the tip of his wand to the lid. Yes, it had been moved a bit more than an inch. How curious.
For a few seconds he contemplated the thought that this coffin contained another undead body – after all, there had been one already in the front of the graveyard. But no, if there was another undead body waiting to attack, it would have done so when they had entered the room or at the very least when he had placed his hand on the coffin.
So no undead body then.
Maybe it was simply nothing and the undertaker hadn't closed the coffin perfectly. That had happened before.
Except it wouldn't happen in a family like the Blacks who very much valued their family and wouldn't stand for it if the case housing their relative wasn't closed off properly.
Perhaps Albus had opened this particular coffin and hadn't closed it off properly – but even in his old age, he hadn't gone senile. In the off chance he had put something important in the coffin, he would have made certain it was closed off properly and would have added some extra curses to it.
So the most likely conclusion was that there was nothing of importance in the coffin.
And yet … and yet …
With an irritated huff, Severus placed the palm of his hand against the lid and pushed against it carefully, not wanting it to suddenly drop.
Once the lid was pushed away until it uncovered half of the coffin, he looked down, right into the grinning face of a skeleton. A skeleton dressed in midnight blue robes, trimmed with gold around the sleeves. A skeleton which seemed to be swallowed up by the coffin – either the person to whom this skeleton belonged, had been rather small or …
Was the coffin actually bigger on the inside? Who on earth would use Wizarding space for a god damn coffin? Surely not even the Blacks could be that insane!
Severus noticed too late the thin, shadowy tendrils crawling around his waist. When a sudden coldness penetrated through his robes, he looked down abruptly and his eyes widened when they caught sight of the dozens of shadowy tendrils tightening their grip around him. Before he could cast a spell, one tendril reached out and flicked his wand away.
"Lu - "
He was cut off abruptly by the tendrils pulling him harshly into the coffin. He struggled against them and kicked with his legs, swearing and cursing escaping his mouth, but the tendrils just crawled upwards until they rested right underneath his nose and then everything became dark when the coffin slid close with an ominous 'click'.
Then a voice started whispering in his ears.

Remus looked up when he heard a soft 'click'. His gaze roamed across the room, his senses on high alert, but he didn't pick up anything strange. The air felt a tad cooler, but that could easily come from the tiny gaps in the stone. He very much doubted that the tomb had been taken care of this past decade.
"Ruby?"
The lion was sniffing restlessly around the left coffin, his nails raking across the floor.
"I thought I felt something," Ruby clarified and stepped away from the tomb. "But it is gone."
Remus sighed and nodded. "Yes, I feel like something happened, but nothing seems out of place," he murmured and casted a critical glance at the two coffins. "I don't think the portrait is here."
Ruby sighed loudly. "The presence is weak here," he agreed. "But I think we are following the correct path." He padded over to the only other exit in the room. "The aura is growing stronger here."
"Eventually we'll have to find it," Remus muttered annoyed and pushed the red cloth out of his way, slipping past it.
While he followed Ruby through the dark corridor – only weakly illuminated by the fire on Ruby's tail – his thoughts shot back to Sirius and Harry and he bit his lip savagely. Despite being assured by both Ruby and Mara that everything was okay with both wizards, he didn't feel at ease. Harry was in an incredibly vulnerable state – why on earth had he ever let Harry join them? Because he would have followed you regardless of what you said, a voice piped up in the back of his mind and he gritted his teeth.
Harry looked more like his father than he thought – James had always been one to follow his friends wherever they went; whether it was dangerous or not. Remus could understand how Harry felt – after so long without a real family, he must have been afraid that he would lose them if he lost sight of them. Harry's mental state had become better after discussing the Dursleys with him and Sirius, but the emotional wounds of the Dursleys' neglect would forever be there and the most he and Sirius could try to do was reduce the gaping hole left behind by that vile family. It would never disappear.
In a way it was thus understandable that Harry had wanted to join them – especially considering the special bond he shared with Draco. That made Remus wonder how much of Harry's persistence to join them had come out of the natural need and fear to not lose his only family and how much had been directed by the magical bond with the Malfoy heir. After all, all magical bonds required the partners to be close together; one bond was stricter about that than the other, but from what Remus had observed and read about this particular bond, it required very close proximity between the two young men. Even more so now that Harry had become pregnant.
Still, this particular environment wasn't healthy for Harry.
And Sirius …
Remus trusted his lover with his life and even his sanity, but he wasn't certain how this whole ordeal would affect Sirius mentally. Sirius had done his best for years to avoid everything that had ties to his family – coming here had to be a difficult thing for him. Azkaban had done more damage to Sirius' mind than both liked to admit – despite being free for four years, the man still woke up due to his intense nightmares and occasionally he experienced night terrors. Remus had often woken up in the middle of the night only to find the other side of the bed empty and Sirius sitting in the living room, staring blankly at the fire with a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. Those were the moments that scared Remus the most, because it felt as if he couldn't reach his lover then, as if there was some sort of barrier between them that prevented Remus from pulling Sirius back to reality.
Sirius' nightmares had been the worst during the time he had been forced to stay inside Grimmauld Place. That was a year Remus preferred to forget, due to how out of control Sirius had become.
How would being here – literally surrounded by the bodies of his family – affect Sirius now? Maybe having Harry with him would help to ground him to reality – his godson was one of the few reasons why Sirius had managed to retain most of his sanity.
Remus clenched his hands into fists and exhaled slowly; frustration and anger simmering right underneath his skin, his magic buzzing with it. All he could do at this moment was find Hufflepuff's portrait soon so that he could help Sirius and Harry break free.
The wolf in him whined at him to go back now and find his mate, but he ruthlessly supressed it. He just had to trust that Sirius would be okay for now.
His skin prickled when a wave of magic caressed his skin and he abruptly halted. Ruby kept walking forwards until he sensed Remus no longer following him. The lion turned his head and looked at him inquiringly.
Remus gestured at the entrance at his left, which led to a circular room from what he could see in the dim light. "Aren't we going inside? There is a lot of magic present here," he remarked and as if in response, his bones seemed to thrum with the heaviness of the magic reaching out to him.
Ruby shook his head. "A lot of magic, yes. A lot of dark magic, but it is not the room we need," he replied. "I do not sense the aura in that room at all. Please ignore it and follow me."
Remus furrowed his eyebrows, but decided to trust Ruby's instinct – as an Elemental Creature, Ruby had stronger senses than him. If the lion said the portrait wasn't there, then it wasn't there.
They rounded another corner and Remus wondered silently just how deep this tomb was. Surely they were nearly at the end or the centre?
Ruby halted in the middle of the wide space. In front of them were two separate corridors and they were covered by heavy, midnight blue drapes that reached towards the ground. The lion raised his head and sniffed loudly, padding back and forth in front of the two covered entrances.
Remus stayed silent and hung back, not wanting to disturb the lion.
An amused growl left Ruby's throat and Remus nearly jumped three feet in the air at the sudden disturbance of the silence.
Heart thudding wildly, he stared at Ruby, who turned back to him and bared his teeth.
"We are very close. It is the left corridor," Ruby explained and a heavy rumble made his large body vibrate lightly.
He was purring in delight.
A feral grin unfolded on Remus' face and he held up his wand. Ruby purring could only mean one thing: they were very, very close to the end of their search.

Severus snarled when the lid closed above him and twisted his body slightly to the left, trying to ignore the taunting voice whispering in his ears. Of course there would be a bloody Dark curse hidden inside the coffin itself! At this point he didn't even care whether the curse had been put there by the Blacks or by Albus – he wanted to get out now.
"Lupin!" he barked once the tendrils had slid off of him. He couldn't see them in the darkness, but he felt significantly less cold. His hand touched the brittle bone of the skeleton next to him and he grimaced, before he braced himself and slammed his fist against the lid of the coffin.
Pain shot through his hand like a lightning bolt and he bit his lip to distract himself. He had undergone worse than this.
"Lupin!" he snapped and this time he kicked his foot against the wood.
Still no response.
He frowned and held still for a moment. There was the possibility that there was a Muffle charm on this coffin – but surely Lupin must have noticed his disappearance? The wolf could be an idiot at times, but he wasn't that stupid. He wouldn't leave him behind.
Are you certain?, the poisonous voice cackled in his ears. Open your ears and listen, the voice hissed viciously – sounding eerily similar to the Dark Lord's raspy voice.
Unwillingly Severus held his breath and listened carefully.
"Ruby?" he heard Lupin ask confused.
A vague padding sound to the right side of the coffin. A strange scratching sound.
"Yes, I feel like something happened, but nothing seems out of place," Lupin spoke up again. "I don't think the portrait is here."
Footsteps were heard, Lupin murmured something else that was too soft for Severus to pick up and then it was completely silent.
Looks like he left you here, the voice piped up again and it snickered. But then that's the story of your life, isn't it? Your mother didn't care enough about you to leave your deadbeat father. Your precious mentor didn't care enough for you to believe your side of the story. Your only friend left you to marry your enemy. Even your precious lover didn't care enough about you to go against his father's will. Seventeen years you had to wait until he was back in your arms – and even now his ex-wife spends more time with him than you.
Don't you understand it yet? You, Severus Tobias Snape, are not meant to be loved or cared for. You are deluding yourself if you believe that any of these people care about you.
Your lover appointed you as his son's godfather as an act of pity – because he can see how incredibly pathetic you really are. You hide it behind a cold exterior, but the truth is, Snivellus, that you are a weak, pathetic boy who will never be put first place by anyone. Even the most kind hearted one of your school bullies is more than happy to leave you behind.
"Shut up," Severus whispered coldly and the voice shrieked in delight.
Yes, yes, keep deluding yourself. Illusions are all you have after all.
Severus clenched his teeth and ignored the taunting whispers; he wouldn't give in to it. He recognized this kind of curse: it was designed to pull the victim into a state of despair until the person committed suicide. Yes, some of the taunts did manage to slip past his walls – but he was stronger than that. He had grown past them and learnt to deal with those memories. He wouldn't let them control them.
The voice cackled. Hm, not control them, huh? That may be true – but take a good look around you, smart boy. What do you think a narrow, closed off space means?
Severus stilled and his eyes grew wide when the implication hit him. The Wizarding space had just been an illusion created by the curse; the coffin was indeed big enough to contain two bodies – but the supply of air would run out soon as no fresh air was able to enter.
Yesss, you have figured it out. At least your brain isn't that pathetic, the voice hissed viciously. No one is going to come for you, Snape. They have all forgotten about you. Don't you think it's ironic? You were taunted by a Black – and now you will be buried with them.
Severus tuned out the voice and kept himself as immobile as possible. The more he moved around and talked, the quicker his air supply would disappear. As long as he kept calm and held still, he would be able to hold out. He would try to figure out a way to open the lid; he didn't have his wand with him, but that didn't mean he was entirely defenceless.
However, until he had a plan of which he was certain it would succeed, he would hold still.
He would have to endure it for now – but one thing was for certain: he was not intending to die here.

Before the creature could bite through Harry's throat, his body emitted a powerful blast of pure magic. Sirius was thrown back against the wall with a cut off yell and Garin hissed agitatedly when the magic prevented him from reaching his master.
The creature – which had born the heaviest brunt of the magical blast – shrieked in agony before it completely evaporated as if it was smoke.
Harry gasped loudly and sunk down against the wall, moaning lowly.
With a grunt of pain and a swear, Sirius stumbled and raised himself from the ground, feeling his shoulders protest. Ignoring the burning pain, he hurried over to Harry and fell down in front of him.
"Harry, can you hear me?" Sirius asked and grabbed Harry's chin, pulling his head up.
Dark green eyes filled with pain and sheer panic looked back at him. "It hurts, Sirius," Harry whimpered and his breathing was irregular, as if he couldn't breathe in properly.
"What hurts?" Sirius asked sharply and looked over Harry's body. There didn't seem to be any physical wounds, bruises or blood, but that didn't put him at ease.
A magical outburst of that strength was incredibly dangerous, because it forced the body to go past its limits. The only time when the magic was able to do that was when the person was in mortal peril. It usually came with a high price, though.
And Sirius feared what that high price could be.
"My arms, my ribs and my stomach. I can't feel my son!" Harry brought out in a stammering voice and shock was replacing the panic in his eyes. His arms clenched around his stomach.
Sirius' throat became dry. "What do you mean: you can't feel your son?" he asked.
"I can't feel him anymore! I can't feel him kicking! I can't feel his magic! I don't feel anything!" Harry replied hysterically and a sob made his body tremble violently. "I don't want to lose him, Sirius! I can't lose him, I can't!"
"Calm down, Harry. You need to calm down," Sirius ordered urgently, but his hands trembled slightly when he grabbed Harry's shoulders. "Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breath out, come on."
Harry did his best to concentrate on his breathing, but his wild gaze fixated on his stomach let Sirius know that his godson was close to breaking down.
His own heart felt like it would beat straight through his chest and he swallowed heavily. While Harry tried his best to calm down, Sirius reached out with his magic and tried to connect it with the faint one in Harry's stomach that he had sensed at occasions when his godson had been close to him.
He gritted his teeth together when he didn't feel anything. He closed his eyes and tried again, putting more power behind it. His magic pushed past Harry's – easily accepted by the younger man as he didn't feel threatened by Sirius – and reached deep inside. Harry's magic greeted him quickly – it was wildly out of control, pulsing and vibrating and it seemed to struggle to pull itself together again after the enormous blast they had went through. It didn't protest Sirius' invasion, though and Sirius ignored it in return.
He reached deeper and deeper – feeling himself starting to sweat from the effort he had to go through as he wasn't used to this – and halted. He thought he sensed a faint pulse, but …
Opening his eyes again, he bowed his head and grimaced. Harry wasn't the only one that couldn't feel the baby's magic anymore. He dearly hoped that he was just not sensitive enough to pick it up – after all, Remus had always been better with this particular branch of magic – but he was afraid of the truth.
He whipped his head around when he felt something gliding past his hip and heaved a breath of relief when he saw that it was only Garin. The snake was staring intently at Harry, who was letting out the occasional whimper of pain and whose eyes were closed now.
Garin slithered close until his head was hovering above Harry's stomach and his tongue came out.
Without realising it, Sirius held his breath and stared at the snake. Of course – Garin would surely know what was happening! He had known before that the baby had been in distress because of Harry's emotional state ; he would be able to figure out again what they had to do now.
"Master is in a lot of pain now," Garin spoke up in his head and the snake sounded troubled.
Sirius nodded silently.
Garin turned his head and stared at Sirius with a queer look. "The magic is wreaking havoc. It is trying to decide whether it should attack or regroup." The snake paused and his tongue came out again. Even through the mental link, the snake sounded soft when he continued, "The hatchling is on the verge of dying. He is fighting, but his magic is still too weak to soothe Master's magic."
Sirius' arms seemed to turn to jelly and he let them fall back to dangle next to him while he stared speechlessly at Garin.
"What?" he whispered. The snake had to joking. There was no way that Harry would lose the baby now – not now when he was past the dangerous first three months. They were all looking forward to meeting the baby – it couldn't be happening now. It would be too cruel.
But since when had Lady Faith ever been gentle?
"You have a plan, right?" Sirius demanded in a rough voice and glared at Garin; his hand clenching around his wand. "You're going to help both of them, right?"
Garin's head bobbed back and forth, while his tongue tasted the air. He seemed to be contemplating something.
"Sirius?" Harry's small voice brought his attention back to his godson.
"Yeah?"
"What's wrong with the baby?"
Sirius stilled when the realisation hit him: Garin had only directed his explanation of the baby to him and not to his master. Harry had no clue at all what was happening now and it left the older man with an uncomfortable dilemma: should he tell Harry the truth or not? If he told the truth, then there was a chance Harry would start panicking. If he lied, Harry would most likely be calm, but if it all took a turn for the worse …
"Sirius? Tell me, please."
Sirius opened his eyes and met Harry's worried look. Steeling himself, he said softly, "Your magic is acting up and the baby's magic is too weak as of now to help you calm down. Garin said that …" He took a deep breath and continued, "He said that there is a chance that the baby won't survive."
Harry's breath hitched and he shivered visibly, letting out a shrill chuckle, which made Sirius wince. "How ironic," Harry muttered darkly and his trembling grew worse. "I had planned to get rid of the baby before I changed my mind and now it turns out that I'm still going to lose him. Guess this is my punishment, huh?" he choked out bitterly and tears trickled over his cheeks.
"Harry, no, this is not your fault," Sirius said immediately and tried to catch his gaze.
The younger man pressed his lips together and avoided his eyes, pressing the palms of his hands against his forehead.
"It will be fine, you'll see," Sirius tried to reassure him, but even he heard the uncertainty in his own voice. He was not very knowledgeable when it concerned things like pregnancies, but he knew how vulnerable male pregnancies were. Add the abnormal stress Harry was living under due to Dumbledore and it was already a miracle he had managed to carry the baby for so long without too many problems.
He wished he could help his godson, but at this moment his hands were tied and he could do little more than try to keep him calm. He had never felt this useless before and he loathed that feeling.
All his attention was geared towards Harry, so he didn't take notice of Garin slithering past him. Harry suddenly slumping forwards made him shout in surprise and he quickly bent forwards to catch him, so that he wouldn't land on the floor.
"What the …"
"I injected some of my venom in him like I have done before," Garin spoke through their mental link, sounding pensively. "It should be strong enough to calm down his magic and make certain that everything is in balance again."
The vague comment about having injected venom in Harry before barely registered in his mind. "Does this mean that the baby will be okay?" he asked anxiously, staring down at the pale face of Harry, whose body was still faintly trembling.
Garin swayed back and forth. "Normally, yes. But someone needs to examine him when we go back."
His shoulders slumped in relief and he heaved a soft sigh. As long as the baby stood a chance of surviving, he would take that chance.
"Let us leave. I am picking up the aura." Garin glided away, focused on the only other available exit.
Sirius struggled a bit with picking up Harry; he was practically dead weight now and he had to make sure he didn't bump against his stomach accidentally. After a moment of rearranging limbs and shuffling around, he managed to pick him up, so that he ended with his head lying against Sirius' shoulders and his arms placed over his stomach. His wand was stuffed in Sirius' back pocket.
Sirius grimaced; holding Harry in his arms severely limited his movements and he had a difficult time holding his wand deftly. If something decided to attack them now, they would be in deep shit, because he suspected he wouldn't be fast enough to defend them both.
But staying here wouldn't help them either and the sooner they got out of this god forsaken tomb, the better.
"All right, lead the way," he muttered and they disappeared through the narrow corridor, leaving the dead creatures behind.

"Eugh," Draco groaned and pushed himself up, his arms nearly buckling underneath his weight when his ribs protested. Fuck, he hoped he hadn't broken them. Hissing from the pain, he managed to sit up, feeling his back and ribs protesting the entire time; white hot pain flaring up.
"Mother? Mara?" he croaked out and carefully felt his head; he didn't seem to have any head wounds, but his head was still pounding from the impact against the wall.
"Are you all right?" Mara asked and he heard her approaching.
"I feel like shit," he told her honestly and grimaced. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking when he saw the white smoke drifting around in the room. "Where's mother?"
"We have a small complication," Mara told him delicately and she jerked her massive head towards the other side of the room.
Gritting his teeth, he managed to get up – all the while his ribs protesting – and focused his attention on the other side of the room, where the smoke was slowly dissipating.
What he saw, perplexed him.
"What on earth is happening to her?" he asked shocked and his hand automatically clenched around his wand, which thankfully was still in his grasp.
His mother was surrounded by a light rose bubble like shield and she seemed to be talking to thin air; her eyes containing a murderous rage which made Draco shiver in fear. She stumbled up, before she slumped down again against the wall, her wand trembling in her grasp. The faint colour she had in her face was drained away by whatever she was seeing and she was shaking her head, stammering something.
"She seems to be caught in some kind of illusion," Mara murmured thoughtfully, cocking her head. "It was probably triggered by the trap one of you stepped on."
"I thought you were able to sniff out all kinds of traps?" Draco raised an eyebrow and he could barely keep the snide tone in his voice down.
She glared at him. "This entire tomb is reeking of Dark magic. Excuse me if I have a difficult time picking up small traps," she snapped. "I did warn you that something wasn't right in this room."
Draco grumbled, but couldn't say anything in his defence. Mara had warn them about possible traps; they just hadn't been careful enough. He guessed he should be happy that they were still alive and not dead or bleeding to death.
"Fine, but how are we going to get her out of the illusion?" he asked and studied the strange light rose sheen of the shield. He had never heard of an illusion manifesting itself materially.
Her tail thumped heavily against the floor, making dust swirl and fly up. "It is a rather complicated illusion," she admitted annoyed. "Not a lot of wizards are able to call up an illusion of this level."
He had to resist the urge to bash his head against the wall. Of course it would be a rather complicated illusion and of course very few people were capable of creating it. Because they just couldn't have it easy for once.
"Do you have an idea as to how to dispel it?" he asked, wincing when he heard the muffled screech of his mother. His eyes shot towards her, but she didn't seem hurt. That didn't comfort him, though, because no visible wounds and yet such a screech of agony could only mean that the wound was mental – and those were often the worst. Physical wounds would heal and occasionally leave a scar behind, but the pain would disappear; mental wounds often lingered behind.
"I have never personally encountered this type of illusion before, so it will take me a while probably to find a way to break it," she answered and approached the shield warily, sniffing at the edges.
That was not the answer Draco had been wanting to hear. Despite not even knowing her for a full year, he had grown used to her being able to defeat any spell or curse immediately. That she had never encountered this illusion before and subsequently had no idea how to break it unsettled him greatly and he bit his lip. He didn't know how much longer his mother would be able to endure the illusion; already she started to look quite pale and her hands were trembling heavily, her wand lying uselessly next to her feet.
Not wanting to remain helpless and useless, he approached the shield as well and bent down, examining the rose sheen. He wondered whether the colour had a specific meaning or whether it was just the way the shield chose to manifest itself. Not a lot of spells or curses worked with this particular colour, so it was most peculiar.
Hesitating for a short while, he dismissed the importance of the colour and instead concentrated on the heavy buzz of the magic that clung to the shield. More often than not the colour had no impact on the execution of the spell or even the strength, so he would concentrate on trying to break through the actual magic. What did he know about illusions?
They usually messed with the mental health of the victim, though there were illusions which also managed to cause physical wounds. There were ones which already contained a certain situation that would be forced upon the victim as soon as they were triggered and there were ones that concentrated on the worst memories or fears of the victim and used those to mess with the person until they gave in.
He wasn't completely certain, but if he had to wager a guess, he'd say that this particular illusion was most likely belonging to the second category. The rage in his mother's eyes could hardly be called up if it was just a random illusion meant to scare her. It had to be either portraying a fear of hers or her worst memory.
Furrowing his eyebrows, he tried to ignore the muted whimpers coming from his mother's mouth. If he paid attention to those now, he would lose his concentration and it would probably take longer to release her from the spell. Even though it hurt him to hear his mother so afraid and helpless – two things he had never thought he would see his mother be – he took a deep breath and focused on the thin strings of magical tendrils he could see wrapped around the shield.
They were faint and if he lost even a smidgen of his concentration, it would be difficult to discern them again against the rose hue. What did he know about this type of illusion? A simple Finite wouldn't work and any other offensive spells would just bounce off of it or feed the shield. Calling out to his mother in the hopes of snapping her out of it wouldn't work either.
Releasing a frustrated sigh, he took a step back, raking his hands through his hair while he stared at the shield which seemed to mock him. There had to be a way to defeat the illusion; he refused to believe that it would get the better of them. Hell would freeze over before he left without his mother …
He blinked and lowered his hands slowly when an idea drifted lazily to the surface of his mind. His body resembled a statue, but his mind was busying itself with the idea, analysing it and trying to figure out whether he could make it work for this particular illusion.
With hooded eyes, he stared at the illusion and then briskly nodded. At this moment it was the best option he had and it seemed like it had the best chance of delivering him success.
"Mara, step away from the shield," he ordered and brandished his wand.
She threw him a distrustful look. "Do you have a plan?"
"I think I have an idea, yes," he muttered and a Cutting hex aimed at his left hand caused his skin to split, allowing the red liquid to seep out sluggishly.
"I hope you know what you are doing," she murmured darkly, but took a couple of steps back, allowing him free reign.
Taking a deep breath, he paid no attention to the stinging pain blooming up in his hand and placed the bloodied hand on top of the thin shield, allowing his blood to drip over it as if it was some sort of macabre sauce. He forced a part of his magic to tie itself to his blood, so that it mingled. As soon as the magic touched the shield, it started to hiss viciously like a scorned cat. The rose hue grew brighter and the magical tendrils around it grew thicker.
"Mother, it is not real," he spoke clearly, locking his gaze with his mother's terrified one. "This is just an illusion, a trap to keep you here. But you are stronger than that, aren't you? You are a Black and they never back down or let themselves be defeated by a mere spell. Weren't you the one who told me that?"
He kept talking to her, while his blood continued to drip over the illusion. Once he thought enough of his blood had been spilt, he pulled his hand back and hastily pressed a handkerchief against the wound; he would heal it later. He couldn't stop talking now if he wanted his idea to be successful.
He was starting to feel faint thanks to the blood loss, but he persisted, keeping track of the way the shield was brightening and dimming as if it was fighting with something and it refused to give up.
Encouragement welled up in him once he noticed his mother's eyes becoming clearer and she seemed to focus on him. He made his voice stronger, louder, so that she wouldn't drift back into the illusion.
Time slipped away without him being aware of it; it could have easily been an hour that he was standing there, talking to his mother, but it could have been merely ten minutes as well. He didn't know.
What he did know was that his head felt too light, his legs rubber like and the handkerchief growing damp around him when his blood was absorbed by it.
As sudden as the trap had pulled them apart, just as sudden did the shield disappear with a loud thunder like sound and he fell on his knees, allowing his mother to grasp him tightly, burying her face in his neck.
"It's over, mother," he whispered tiredly and closed his eyes when he embraced her back.
Her slim body shivered in his hold and her breath gushed hotly against his skin when she gasped silently.
"I hate that man," she whispered, her voice trembling with barely concealed rage. When she pulled back slightly, she stared at him with glittering eyes, but they didn't shine with tears, like Draco had assumed. Her hands clenched down at his arms and she took a deep breath. "He better hope I'm not the one who finds him."
Draco wanted to ask who she was talking about – he had an inkling, but he wasn't certain – but decided to keep his mouth shut when he felt her magic agitatedly hovering around her, like a cloud. The last thing he needed now was for her to lash out after she had to endure that illusion.
"How are you feeling?" he asked instead.
"I have been through worse," she answered vaguely and then her attention was caught by his bleeding hand. "You're bleeding!"
Draco casted a look at his hand. "Oh yes. I was going to heal that," he replied blankly. Now that he was paying attention, the cut did smart and he hissed when the pain flared up again.
Mother shook her head, clucked her tongue and with a murmured spell and the tip of her wand pressed against the wound, the cut slowly closed up until nothing remained but a dark red line.
She eyed it critically. "It shouldn't leave a scar," she murmured. "You'll have to be careful, though. It seems like you lost a lot of blood."
He shrugged half-heartedly. "I had to get you out of the illusion," he retorted, flexing his hand carefully. The skin tugged a bit as the cut was just healed, but it wouldn't give him any trouble.
Mother surprised him by kissing his forehead. "Thank you," she whispered against his skin and he nodded mutely, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"You are probably not at your best now, but we need to get a move on," Mara said flatly and took a step towards the other exit. "While this room does not contain her, her presence is getting stronger, so we are very near."
"Thank Merlin," Mother murmured and stood up slowly. She patted the dust of her robes. "Let us proceed, Draco. The sooner we leave this god forsaken place, the better."
A smile crept up his face. He could see how shaken she was by the whole ordeal, but she was putting herself together again and he was proud of her, proud that she wouldn't let herself be defeated by an ugly illusion.
"Yes, mother," he said and followed behind her. His own hand clenched around his wand. Just a bit longer and he could see Harry again. Then he could leave together with his lover, his mother, Black and Lupin.

She furrowed her eyebrows and turned the page of her history book. The excited swirling of the Dark magic was irritating her and it pulled at her nerves, forcing her to pay attention to it. With an annoyed cluck of her tongue, she closed the heavy tome and placed it on the small, wooden table next to her. She crossed her legs and intertwined her fingers while she leaned forwards in her chair.
Oh dear, the magic was very excited now; this had never happened before in all the time she was here. She cocked her head curiously and concentrated deeply. Six people and three unknown creatures.
Slowly she tapped her finger against her lips and blinked surprised. What was such a large group doing here?
Oh wait, only five people were on the move. The sixth one seemed to be …
She shook her head forlornly; it seemed that the sixth one had the unfortunate bad luck to be caught by one of the more severe Dark curses. Unfortunately in her situation, she couldn't do anything to help the poor man. Even if she had power in this dreadful place, it would only have interacted badly with the magic currently thrumming in the rooms. Hopefully the other five would find her quickly, because only then would all the curses and traps be disabled.
She hummed and smiled; it had been many years since she last saw someone or even spoke to somebody. She missed her colleagues dearly, but something in her told her that they were in a safe place now.
Maybe the people currently approaching her were responsible for getting her friends to safety. She hoped so, because even though they were mere portraits now, she did not want any harm to befall them.
"What a nasty man," she murmured aloud and opened her eyes, revealing the sky blue orbs. With a deft twist of her finger, she put a stubborn strand of her red hair back in her bun and adjusted herself on the chair.
How long had it been since she last saw the familiar walls of Hogwarts? How much time had passed since she last had felt the warm, comfortable magic surrounding her?
Too much time had passed, she decided after a moment of contemplation.
And she was beyond ready to return to her home.
Her eyes flickered towards the three entrances leading to her hiding place when the sound of quick footsteps approaching reached her.
A red glow illuminated the corridor on her right and she gazed at the entrance with interest when a large lion silently appeared like a ghost. Its body was the source of the red glow; its fur was subtly glowing red and his mane was made up entirely out of fire, making his red orbs glow eerily. The lion stepped forwards, revealing a man with grey brown hair, whose eyes flickered between gold and amber and whose face was set in a grim expression.
Shock registered on his face when he saw her.
"You are …"
He was interrupted by a shuffling sound, accompanied by muted swearing from the corridor on the left and both the wizard and the lion turned towards the sounds, their eyes alight with hope and apprehension.
The first one to escape the corridor was a giant snake, whose scales glowed a soft green despite they being white, casting shadows on the walls, while its eyes were a light purple. Its tongue came out to taste the air and its hiss sounded quite satisfied.
The snake was followed by a black haired man with grey blue eyes, which were currently narrowed. In his arms he carried an unconscious, young man with wild, dark hair, who looked extremely pale.
The man came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of the other man.
"Remus!"
"Sirius, thank Merlin you're okay! But what's wrong with Harry?" the man, Remus, asked worriedly and hurried over to the two wizards, ignoring her for now.
That suited her just fine; she was interested in their interaction.
The man named Sirius grimaced and audibly gritted his teeth, before he replied, "We were attacked by some magical creatures and Harry's magic reacted to his panic. Huge blast, which brought his magic out of control and he nearly lost the baby."
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. A baby, huh? My, this was becoming more and more interesting. Who on earth would bring a pregnant person in this awful place?
"What?!" Remus nearly shrieked and his eyes immediately shot towards to the young man.
Sirius shuffled his feet. "Garin injected him with his venom and said it should help normally," he muttered and shook his head. "He'll need to be looked after when we get back. It didn't look good," he added subdued.
"We should have kept him in the school," Remus muttered and tightened his jaw.
Whatever his friend wanted to say, was lost in the sound of more footsteps quickly approaching them from the middle corridor.
Again an animal exited the corridor first. This time it resembled a snow leopard, whose unnaturally bright blue eyes flickered in recognition when they fell on her. She smiled and waved. Such interesting creatures these wizards had. She wondered where they had found them.
A blonde woman stumbled out of the corridor with a young, blond man – who bore a lot of resemblance to her – following closely behind.
"Thank Merlin you are all right!" the woman said relieved, but her lips tightened when her attention was caught by the unconscious man. "What on earth happened to him? I thought you said he was okay!" That last sentence was directed towards the two large cats, who bristled and shook their fur.
"Harry!" The blond man shot forwards immediately; one of his hands cradling the dark haired man's head gently while the other one carefully touched his stomach. His grey eyes narrowed and he looked almost accusingly at Sirius. "What happened to him?" he said through clenched teeth.
Oh dear, he looked almost as vicious as Godric during that one time when someone had slighted him. She wondered whether the young man was sorted in his house.
Sirius glared. "We encountered some nasty creatures. Harry's magic was acting up and it produced a large blast. His body couldn't properly deal with it, so Garin injected some venom in him that is supposed to stabilize him until we get back to Hogwarts."
The blond hissed furiously and he suddenly held out his arms – which were trembling a bit she noted and she saw the faint smears of blood on his hand. She clucked her tongue softly in sympathy; the group had had a very rough time to get here.
"Give him to me!" the blond demanded, his entire body tensed up.
"Look, there is no need for you to …"
"I'm not asking," the young man said coldly.
The older man looked ready to argue, but Remus stepped forwards and clasped his shoulder. "Give Harry to Draco, Sirius," he muttered after casting a weary glance at the blond. "He might be able to help him stabilize his magic."
Displeasure clearly displayed on his face, Sirius handed the unconscious man to the blond, who possessively hugged him against his chest, dropping a kiss on his cheek.
The dark haired man's face twitched a bit, his fingers flexing against his stomach, before he seemingly settled himself against the blond, who relaxed visibly.
She raised an eyebrow, seeing the white hue hanging around both men. A magical bond, hm? That explained the fierce possessiveness of the blond one.
After giving the group another moment to collect themselves, she cleared her throat delicately; having to hide a smile when four heads whipped around to face her.
"Hello everybody. My name is Helga Hufflepuff," she greeted them gently and stood up. "May I be so bold to presume that you are here for me?"
"Yes, we are here to take you back to Hogwarts," Remus answered, shaking his head in wonder. "I'm sorry for not saying something sooner. We just got separated and we're happy to have found each other again."
Helga offered them a warm smile. "I understand; do not be worried. I am not offended. But are you not perhaps forgetting someone?"
As soon as those words left her mouth, a cold breeze went through the room, enveloping the small group, clearing away the last remnants of the curses that clung to them.
"Oh Merlin, Severus!" the woman breathed out horrified.
Ah, so that was the name of the unfortunate man.
"He has around ten minutes left," Helga said after she reached out with her magic. "If you are quick, you will be able to release him on time. I will help you locate him."
Shock and anguish were shining through their eyes – the two older men seemed more shocked than anguished – but they didn't linger. The two older wizards helped her from the flat stone she had been resting on and then they hastily made their way through the narrow, dusty corridors, following her lead.
The coffin was wrenched open, revealing a very pale, lanky, dark haired man, who clambered out with the help of Remus.
While the blonde woman was fussing over the shivering man, Helga studied them carefully, taking note how the three creatures were hovering near the two youngest wizards. She may not be as cunning as Salazar, as smart as Rowena or even as brave and boisterous as Godric, but she did know that this group had retrieved her for a very particular reason and not just because they wanted to meet one of the Founders. She was not naive nor oblivious after all.
That knowledge did not bother her in the slightest. To have found her, the group had to have been in contact with her friends – which could only mean that her colleagues approved of whatever reason the group had for retrieving them.
She would help them in succeeding in their goal. She was finally going home and that was all that mattered to her now.

AN2: In case of confusion: the coffin contained another curse; this one caused others to forget about the one trapped in the coffin. Meaning that as soon as the tendrils had gotten a hold on Snape, the memories of him were wiped out of the others' heads.
So what do you think of it? This concludes their final quest! But of course this story isn't over yet.
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review (and yes, I am aware I'm mean for making you all believe that Dumbledore was really there)!
Next chapter: The Founders are finally together again and they start planning out the ritual. Meanwhile Harry experiences some very troubling nightmares ...
See you all next time! (Some oneshots will be posted throughout February, if anyone is interested in reading them!)
Cuddles
Melissa
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Survival of the fittest