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The Mark of the Fox	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7763 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Harry lay still, dazed by so much pain that he wondered at
first if he had shattered his back. Then he rolled over and saw that it was a
broken leg.

�� Or perhaps
he should say that he felt it,
because he was no longer dragging a whole limb but a wailing ball of agonizing
pain.

�� Harry
suppressed the cry that would have led his enemies to him and concentrated
hard, trying to use the techniques that the Aurors had taught him for coping
with pain. It didn�t work, and after a moment he understood why and grimaced in
resignation. Those techniques depended on magical strength. He had used too
much today, with the wandless power if not with resisting Hurston�s Dementors,
and couldn�t manage to call up what he needed to.

�� It hurt,
yes. But he would survive, and when he trailed his wand above his leg and
murmured a diagnostic charm, he found that it was a clean break. He needed to
get out of these mountains.

�� I probably should have tried to break
through the anti-Apparition wards in the first place, no matter how much it
hurt, Harry thought, and locked his hands beneath him. Can I drag myself on?

�� A sharp jab
of pain from his leg the instant he tried to stand put an end to that notion.
Harry lowered his head and panted. The pain went on radiating in waves, and he
grimaced. He would have to do something else, something he hated to do, because
it would use more of the magic that was becoming increasingly rare in his
muscles and spirit.

�� He hated
the notion that he might not survive much more, though. There was that.

�� He cast a
Feather-Light Charm on most of his body, then immobilized his leg with another
charm. By then he was gasping, and it felt as though a hand of cold was
reaching inwards to crush his heart. Too late, Harry remembered the training
that said pain increased with magical exhaustion. Breaking his leg at this
point was one of the worst things that could have happened to him.

�� But it was
still something that had to be borne. He imagined smoke again, and the sounds
of screams cut short. He imagined the heat that he knew would rise around him
if he could be transported back to that moment in time, and the crushing relief
it would have been if he could have done something different once so
transported.

�� He lashed
himself with the whip of his conscience, and underneath it, he managed to cast
the next charm, the one that would create a slight, constant wind behind him so
that he would float upright. The wind increased until it billowed his robes,
and then until it lifted him. As tired as he was, Harry grinned in triumph.

�� Be
careful, Lisa. He�s dangerous.�

�� Harry
looked up sharply. Two figures were closing in on him, one from either side.
The nearer one was the woman, Lisa Baines, whom he had met when he first came
to the valley. The second one was a slender, dark man who moved with quiet
confidence that marked him as another trained
fighter.

�� How many
of you does Malfoy have in his stable?� Harry asked tiredly, and then shivered
as another jolt of pain shot through his wounded leg.

�� Many,� the
man said, his voice soft with something Harry identified, after a moment�s
disbelieving struggle against the notion, as respect. �But no one like you. No
one who�s resisted him so long.�

�� Harry
licked his lips. There was no way that he could defeat two seasoned physical
fighters if they got the chance to move against him.

�� So don�t give them the chance to move
against you, the voice of one of his instructors snapped in his backbrain.
Harry let his wand shiver against his palm, apparently coming close to dropping
it, but actually settling it in a different, more offensive position.

�� Don�t you
want to be free?� he asked. �If I resisted, couldn�t you?�

�� If we had
known about the danger beforehand, of course we could have.� That was Baines,
with an impatient jerk of her head that looked as if it should have hurt her
neck. �But there�s a difference between knowing about enslavement and managing
to avoid it, and knowing only after you�re enslaved that it would have been a
good thing to have foreseen.�

�� Harry shook
his head. �You could simply let me go,� he said. �Tell him that you couldn�t
find me.�

�� We can�t
lie to him while we wear his Mark, either,� the man said. He had come closer
while Harry was watching Baines. That�s
the problem with two opponents, Harry thought, old Auror lessons as vivid
in his head as if his trainers stood�
before him now. They never hold
still and attack you one at a time the way they�re supposed to. �And he
knows that you�re here. By now, he�s on
his way. And I don�t think you�ll resist him once he�s trying to Mark you
rather than trying to fight you.�

�� I still
don�t intend to surrender,� Harry said.

�� Good for
you,� Baines said. She actually sounded approving, which Harry didn�t
understand. �But you must know that two trained fighters can keep you busy when
you have a broken leg and almost no magic left.�

�� Lisa,� the man hissed.

�� Relax,
Victor,� Baines said, without taking her eyes from Harry�s face. �He knew from
the beginning what we were. I saw it in the way his eyes widened. He knew it
from the time he looked at me when I met him as escort into the valley. That
wasn�t the brightest of Lord Malfoy�s ideas, to arouse Potter�s suspicions that
way. And you know that Potter will be the latest of us in a few minutes. I�d
rather not have him prejudiced against me when he becomes one.�

�� I�d rather
kill myself than let that happen,� Harry said. �And if I mouth the right incantation
before then, imagine what kind of explosion of magic my death could cause.�

�� Baines
shook her head, smiling. �No, I don�t think you�ll do that. Not as long as your
survival might mean one of Lord Malfoy�s slaves or victims gets free. And your
dying like that, while it would certainly consume us, would also mean that the
innocents would die along with us. I think I understand enough of your
character by now to confidently predict that you�ll do no such thing.�

�� Harry
swallowed, the muscles in his throat clicking. Baines knew him too well. He
wished now that he had learned how to act a little more ruthless during his
time as an Auror, and also how to lie more convincingly.

�� And I wish that someone had taught me how to
fight with a broken leg, he thought, bracing himself as Baines shifted in,
followed by Victor.

�� Baines
launched a kick at his head. Harry managed to duck that one, but only by
varying the wind that held him up, so it tilted him back a bit and brought him
towards the ground. That gave Victor a perfect chance to kick him in his good
knee.

�� Harry
pulled his head back and gave voice to several wheezing noises in spite of his
pride as something seemed to shatter in his knee. Then he felt the wind
flicker. His magic was running out, even to continue such simple charms as
these.

�� He let it
fade. It meant he fell painfully to the ground, but that was nothing next to
the pain from his legs, and anyway, the Immobilization Charm remained in place.
Victor and Baines came closer, watching him cautiously.

�� Harry
clenched his fingers around his wand, moving them rather than the wand itself
in the necessary gesture, and mouthed the incantation.

�� Baines
jumped back out of the way. Victor didn�t, not in time, and the stronger wind
carried him easily into the side of the cliff. He went down, bleeding from a
lump on the side of his head, now safely unconscious, if not dead.

�� Harry
turned back, panting with the effort of simply moving his head, to see Baines
bowing to him. She straightened up, shaking her head, and prowled a few steps
closer again, watching both his mouth and wand with rapid movements of her eyes
that Harry didn�t think were natural.

�� I have to
commend you,� she said. �He sent five of us against you, and you�ve managed to
defeat four. I think you could have done the same with me if you hadn�t already
fought our Lord and been wounded and tired.�

�� Look,�
Harry said, hating the way his words slurred because of his fatigue, �you must
resent him for enslaving you.�

�� Baines
smiled again. �I assure you, Lord Malfoy is fully aware of that. He can sense
most of our powerful emotions through the Mark.�

�� Harry
shuddered. �Why does he want to enslave me? Surely you can answer me that, at
least.�

�� Consider
the obvious,� Baines said. �He has someone magically powerful under his
control, and someone who has the kind of fame that will attract people to him
and make them believe what he says. It�s perfect. He probably would have
ventured after you first, but he likes to take people with lots of preparation.
He probably didn�t intend this at all when you came, and only made the decision
because you noticed the draining lenses.�

�� I won�t
help him,� Harry said. �I really will die first, if he tries to take me
prisoner.�

�� Baines
spread her hands. �I believe that you can stand up to pain better than we can.
The problem is that he has other ways to convince you.�

�� What other ways?� Harry demanded. �If he
tries to convince me with someone held as hostage for my good behavior, I�ll
find a way around it somehow. I promise I will.�

�� And again,
I believe you,� Baines said. �But here our Lord is now, and I�m sure he�d like
to tell you some of his secrets himself.�

*

�� Draco
reveled in the way that Potter�s eyes, full of hatred, turned towards him.
Backed up against a cliff, with a broken leg and two of his enemies, counting
Lisa, in front of him entirely unwounded, he still looked as if he was in
control of the situation.

�� It would be
Draco�s pleasure to find some way to train Potter not to fight him, and to see
his limitations, while encouraging him to retain that raging strength.

�� I�ll never
work for you, Malfoy,� Potter breathed. He looked as if he would have shouted,
but his chest was heaving with familiar exhaustion, sucking in ambient magic
from the air itself to sustain him. Draco himself had reached that state of
fatigue more than once before he began to store magic in his bracelets and thus
became more powerful than any ordinary wizard. �If I have to wait a dozen years
to punch you in the face, I�ll still do that, and avenge all the wrongs you�ve
made me and others suffer in the meantime.�

�� Such
loyalty, Potter,� Draco said, and lowered his voice to the purr that had made
some of his more insane offers sound reasonable to all sorts of people. Lisa
wisely backed up. Draco wanted an unobstructed line between him and Potter, and
he wanted someone to check on Victor and make sure that he was all right.
Though he hadn�t specifically ordered Lisa to do that, she was sensitive enough
to pick up on the desires swimming in the back of his brain. Draco saw her
crouch down beside Victor before he faced Potter. �And to what? Don�t you ever
feel the lack of a larger driving purpose to sustain you beyond that faceless
mass of innocents out there?�

�� I�m an
Auror,� Potter said. The gasps for air and magic and life interrupted his words
now. �I serve the Ministry.�

�� Oh, dear.�
Draco paused and put his best expression of worry on his face. �The Ministry
that sent you here to die?�

�� That rocked
Potter�and everything that could rock Potter and prevent him from pulling off
some blast of suicidal wandless magic was a plus right now. He stared at Draco.
�What do you mean?� he demanded.

�� The
Ministry official who sent you here,� Draco said softly, �is also the one who
sent me your file. But he didn�t tell me about how powerful and determined you
were, and he didn�t tell you anything about the true nature of my operation. I
think he was hoping that we would destroy each other, or perhaps that you�d
kill me and go back to the Ministry no wiser, where he could try something else
to get rid of you.�

�� Potter�s
eyes glowed with a frightening rage�frightening because Draco could practically
see the idiot getting ready to expend all his energy in a last fireball. �Who
was it?� he whispered.

�� Ah, ah,
Potter.� Draco moved forwards once more, this time drawing his wand. �You�re in
no shape to go after him. I won�t tell you the name until you�ve had some rest
and you�re properly under control.�

�� Potter gave
his head one more defiant tilt, but he was nearly done for. Draco could see in
Potter�s eyes that the man knew that as well as he did. It was stupid to
resist, but Potter usually confused stupidity with honor.

�� I�ll never
be under your control,� he said. �I�ll destroy you. I�ll fight against you.
I�ll drag you down.�

�� I�m
looking forward to it,� Draco said. Let Potter wear himself out in a useless
fight. Draco had designed the Mark to be impenetrable to magic. In the
meantime, that was energy that he wouldn�t be putting into the kind of
treachery that Draco�s Ministry contact had managed.

�� Not that I intend to ever let him get far
enough from me to make such treachery possible, Draco thought, smiling at
Potter. And he doesn�t have the cunning
or subtlety to pull it off under my nose.

�� Potter had
shut his mouth by now, and was grimly eyeing him. Draco stood still, watching
him for a moment. He could have gone ahead and taken what he wanted, but he was
interested to find out what Potter would say next.

*

�� Harry knew
he was close to the end, though whether that end would be unconsciousness or
death he wasn�t sure yet. But his heart throbbed and his body shook with the
throbbing, and he wanted to collapse. Fighting when he was in this state would
be the stupidest thing he could do.

�� And he knew he�d been weakened by the Ministry
reference Malfoy had made. He�d never been any good at hiding his emotions. For
the most part, among the Aurors, he hadn�t had to.

�� At the same
time, surrendering himself to Malfoy would also be the stupidest thing he could
do. Harry knew how powerful he was. He knew what Malfoy could make him do to
other people. Just the thought of that was enough to make him resist with all
his might.

�� He saw no
way out of this situation except dying�which would be the most futile thing of
all. Had he survived Voldemort only to die at the hands of someone who�d once
been the weakest of Voldemort�s minions?

�� I could
help you get your revenge on the Ministry,� Harry decided to offer at last. �As
long as you don�t bind me.�

�� Malfoy
sighed. He had grown into a strange man, Harry decided, his face delicate and
pretty and yet masculine, without the sharp angles that had marked it when he
was a boy. �I�m almost tempted to take that offer. Unfortunately, I�ve known
you for a long time, Harry.� I hate the
way he says my name, Harry thought. �I know that you�d turn on me the
moment you had what you wanted and feel compelled to drag me into justice. I
can�t trust you unless I�ve Marked you.�

��

�� I�m not a
traitor,� Harry said. He was startled at how strong and dangerous his voice
could still sound when he was backed into a corner, possibly without the
ability to retaliate any longer.

�� But you
wouldn�t think of this as treachery, since it would be against something you
see as evil,� Malfoy said simply. �I told you, I know you, and I understand the
way your mind works.� He lifted his wand. �Now, there�s an incident in your
recent past that I�m curious about. I know the way the Ministry file described
it, but I�d like to see the truth of it. Legilimens.�

�� The assault
hurt so much that Harry nearly gave up. But that would be letting Malfoy win,
and more thoroughly than he had ever feared. He clung to his Occlumency
shields, as pitiful as they were, and his hatred of Malfoy; one of his teachers
had told him that sometimes an intense focus on something else could work to
block thoughts.

�� Malfoy made
a thoughtful noise. Harry straightened, panting, as the pain pressing on his
mind went away.

�� I hadn�t
thought you strong enough to block me,� Malfoy said.

�� There was a
strange, savage expression on his face. Staring at it, Harry was revolted to
realize it was hunger. It was as if
Harry were a fresh fish that Malfoy couldn�t wait to gut and clean and carve
up.

�� Well, I
was,� Harry said. �Arsehole.�

�� Malfoy
laughed, which wasn�t the reaction Harry had hoped to provoke but which at
least made the sharp expression on his face go away. �It�s that last word which
tells me it�s coming from your mouth,� he said. �Now. As I was about to say,
your strength was a surprise. But from how pale you are just now, I wouldn�t be surprised if you no longer
have enough of it to do anything else.�

�� Harry said
nothing. He had his eyes on Malfoy�s feet, the way he stood. There might be
something he could do. There might be something there.

�� Do pay
attention,� Malfoy said. �I�ll be your Lord soon, and you can think about the
various ways that you�please me.� He moved to the left, but Harry didn�t care,
didn�t look up. It didn�t matter where Malfoy was standing, for the trick he
was going to play.

�� If I have the strength left to play it.

�� Struggle
isn�t pleasant,� Malfoy went on. �But surrender could be. Very. Just ask Lisa.�
He turned his head, presumably trying to catch Baines�s eye and humiliate her
in some way. Harry wondered how a woman who seemed so proud could stand that,
even if she had learned the futility of fighting Malfoy�s Mark.

�� If she�s given in, you mean.

�� Harry
thought he wouldn�t have a better chance than Malfoy�s fleeting moment of
distraction. He cast the spell on his foot, nonverbally, and then stamped down.

�� Malfoy
turned back at once, but raised an eyebrow when he saw Harry still standing
there, apparently without doing anything. �Have you given in, then?� he asked.
�I was sure that you would be intelligent enough to realize there�s no point in
fighting when someone has closed the iron collar on your neck��

�� The spell
Harry had cast took effect then, radiating out from his foot and causing much
the same damage there would have been if he�d stamped hard on a floor of
delicate mosaic.

�� The earth
rippled and bulged up and shattered in different places, and Harry was thrown
from his feet. He went with it, not trying to save himself at the moment,
though his broken leg ached terribly when he fell. He kept his head raised,
though, striving to see what had happened to Malfoy.

�� Malfoy was
caught entirely by surprise. He fell, and Harry heard something he carried on
him, or maybe a bone, break. Malfoy blanked his face so as not to show any
emotion and raised one hand.

�� Baines
sprinted away from the unconscious Victor and ended up next to her Lord,
cradling him in her arms. She looked accusingly at Harry, who sneered at her.

�� Then the
magical exhaustion made itself known to him, hitting so hard that Harry was
unable to do anything but drop his head and surrender to it.

�� Maybe I�ll die, and that�s a waste.

�� But he�d
done what he could. He hadn�t served Malfoy�s purpose. If he died, he died
knowing that Malfoy hadn�t been able to use him to hurt the Ministry or any of
the people he kept prisoner here.

�� And he
hadn�t given in.

*

�� Draco had
broken one of the bracelets when he fell. He knew it was a fragile one�made out
of a thin layer of wood over an even thinner layer of ivory�and he had expected
it to break someday.

�� But it
would have been acceptable if he had knocked it off the desk in his office or
trodden on it. It shouldn�t have broken because Potter had called a fucking earthquake and knocked him down.

�� He summoned
Lisa to him, and she came, bolting over the shifting, treacherous ground. Draco
himself didn�t look away from Potter, and the way that his head was lolling on
his neck, his eyes staring helplessly at the sky.

�� If he had
hurt himself, Draco was going to kill
him.

�� Fetch him up,�
Draco said. �And make sure that he�s absolutely immobile.� He drew another of
the bracelets with stored magic off his wrist. It was silver, and studded with
pearls. �Feed the magic inside to him. He�ll need it when he wakes up, if he�s
not going to die of magical exhaustion.�

�� Lisa stared
at him in silence, mouth open to reveal a pool of saliva inside. Draco didn�t
really enjoy the sight, and stared at her until she snapped her jaw shut and
nodded.

�� Of course,
Lord,� she murmured, and then picked her way over the latest tremor, until she
was crouched down at Potter�s side.

�� She clasped
the bracelet around his wrist, and Draco stood up and moved forwards, walking
so silently that Lisa started when she found him next to her. Draco offered her
an implacable glance�she should be more prepared than that�and then crouched
down next to Potter and held his wand in front of his face.

�� Potter�s
color and breathing began to improve. His eyes fluttered. He sighed. Then he
opened his eyes and squinted at Draco as if trying to remember what had
happened.

�� Draco took
no chances this time. Before Potter could focus his gaze, he aimed his wand and
said, �Legilimens.�

�� The memory
didn�t swim far from the surface of Potter�s mind. Draco hadn�t thought it
would, given that he blamed himself more than was reasonable. Guilt would
season the memory, keep it alive.

�� The house was burning. Flames raged through
the stone itself, in a way that told Draco the fire was magical and the
building a loss. The windows were long gone, the glass panes melted, the frames
barely clinging to existence as tattered pieces of wood or stone. Draco thought
that one could only call it a house by courtesy.

�� Potter stood in the middle of the blaze, his
cloak swinging as he drew it around himself. He never ceased a steady chant of
incantations that Draco grasped in instants must be responsible for the house�s
survival. He was holding it up so that others could get out. Draco, looking
around, couldn�t see any survivors in this inferno, but perhaps Potter could.

�� Draco�s gaze went back to Potter, and he
wondered how he would survive the
assault of the flames. Of course, someone who could do what he had done to
Draco�s Marked ones might have the magical strength to do so.

�� A cry sounded from a corner. Potter swung
his head about like a hunting hound. Draco turned with him, and saw the woman
and child picking their way forwards from a corner, their faces pitiful with
terror, their hacking coughs reporting the presence of smoke in their lungs.

�� Draco curled his lip. He had always despised
weakness, and more than ever since the war, when he saw what it had wrought in
the lives of his family. He would have left these pitiful remnants of people to
their fate.

�� Not Potter, of course. He held up his wand
and bellowed, ��Adduco tectum ad
solo!��

Draco
stared. What was the idiot doing? He would�

�� And then Draco understood, even as the
ceiling began to fall in towards the floor, smothering all three of them in the
devouring flames. Potter had made a mistake in the preposition. He had probably
meant to lift the ceiling away from the floor and provide a path that they
could use to climb away from the flames, perhaps with a rope; instead, he had
summoned the ceiling towards the floor.

�� Potter�s Auror instincts kicked in, and he
Apparated. The memory ended when he did, but Draco had no doubt what had
happened to the people he left behind.

�� Draco
leaned back and blinked, carefully settling himself in his own mind once more,
making sure that he had the command of his muscles and didn�t think he was
Potter. That was prone to happen with especially deep or absorbing Legilimency;
Draco had heard of more than one Dark wizard whose talent for reading minds had
spared the Ministry the labor of punishing him.

�� He could
understand what had happened. A mistake, a double mistake, but no more than
that. Potter had not done what he had done with any malicious intent. The wrong
Latin word and then following his training�countless people could have done the
same. And in a situation that agonizing, many people would have long since fled
the scene, rather than stayed to help, as Draco thought Potter had, on the
off-chance that there would be someone remaining in the house.

�� But Potter
wasn�t an ordinary person�even Draco could acknowledge that�and the Ministry and
the public didn�t think of him that way, either. Harry Potter, the Savior of
the Wizarding World, the best Auror they had, didn�t make mistakes. He should
have rescued those people or died trying. Not lived because of too much speed,
too much eagerness.

�� From the
tormented way Potter�s eyes fixed on Draco, he thought the same thing.

�� Draco bent
back towards him and sent a thought to Lisa to make her step away. He had
something to say to Potter, and he didn�t want anyone else to overhear.

�� It wasn�t
your fault,� he said. �I saw everything that happened, and if I�m not an
impartial judge, who is? You know I�d never speak this way merely to spare your
ego, Potter. That wasn�t what you meant to do. It can be forgiven. It can be
excused. They still shouldn�t have sent you here to die.�

�� Potter
didn�t say anything. His breath was noisy and loud. He was staring into Draco�s
eyes as if hypnotized, and Draco was glad, because that meant he wouldn�t think
of using the restored magic and collapsing in agony because of the traps hidden
in the bracelet.

�� Understand
me,� Draco said, as calmly as he could when he could practically feel Potter�s
soul hovering in his hand like a butterfly. �I will give you something to live
for, and bring you back from the brink of the abyss. I�ll ensure that you
forgive yourself.�

�� But
Potter�s face creased with rage, and Draco barely got out of the way when he
spat. He didn�t try to use the bracelet, though. He was intelligent enough to
realize when a free gift wasn�t free, Draco thought in approbation. Really, he
was a prize. The Ministry had been foolish to give him up.

�� I know
what you want out of me,� Potter said, his eyes hollow and contemptuous. �You
want me to serve you. Forgiving myself would mean giving up my conscience, and
that would just make me more vulnerable to you.� He sneered. �Thanks, but no
thanks.�

�� Draco
sighed. He had hoped he could
persuade Potter, but when there was no other choice�

�� Lisa,� he
said.

�� Potter
turned his head to face her, his hand rising as if he imagined he could fend
her off, but Draco had intended the word merely as a distraction. The real
attack was his: a blast of magic from the silver bracelet on his wrist that
slipped past Potter�s defenses and rendered him unconscious without hurting
him. He dropped to the ground with a muffled groan.

�� Draco bent
over him and checked his pulse, to make sure that his apparent recovery was not
a fluke; the bracelets often didn�t work that well for anyone but him, since he
was the one who had mastered the process of storing the magic. He nodded in
satisfaction when he found it steady, then nodded again, to Lisa. �Conjure a
stretcher for him,� he said. �I�ll take him back to the office and start the
Marking.�

�� Lisa bowed,
a hint of hatred flashing in her eyes like a jewel before she turned away.
Draco smiled. For the first time, he wondered what Potter had meant to her as a
symbol of defiance. Perhaps she had wanted to be like that, too, before the
Mark had taken the chance away from her.

�� I will need to change him, Draco
thought, as he watched Lisa lift Potter into the stretcher. His soul will never survive if he serves me
as he currently is. I want to make sure that he will become pliable enough to
live, but keep enough of his will to be interesting. That will necessitate, I
think, a good deal of work.

�� I cannot wait to begin.

*

�� Harry
opened his eyes slowly. He wanted to rest, but it seemed that was a luxury he
would be denied. Or had he had enough rest already? His mind was filled with
soft, hazy images that drifted towards him and then backed away like warm
icebergs.

�� He felt no
pain at least, now, and though he remembered his leg being broken, he could
move it without trouble. He sat up on the low bed he appeared to be lying on
and blinked down at his moving toes.

�� Welcome
back to the land of the living.�

�� Harry
whirled around, though that made him fall back to the bed again. Malfoy leaned
against the wall next to a door Harry hadn�t heard open�he was choosing to
believe that it had opened recently because the thought of Malfoy being in the
room with him the entire time was unnerving--and regarded him with amusement.

�� We used
some rather good healing spells on your leg,� Malfoy continued. �And I made
sure that you got the rest you didn�t manage to find before you started running
away from me.� He paused. �It�s odd, but it felt as though your magic was more
depleted than it should have been, even for such efforts as you made. Had
someone drained you during one of your recent cases?�

�� Harry sat
up again. He had a plan in his head, so sharp that it felt as if it could strip
the flesh off his bones.

�� He didn�t
pause to consider it long. He knew it was one of those plans that would work,
knew it instinctively. He simply measured the distance from him to Malfoy and
sprang.

�� He crashed
to the floor in mid-flight, because pain was eating him alive from the inside
out. It felt like someone was twisting his bones into a puzzle. Harry coiled
around his stomach, where the agony seemed to be coming from, but then it moved
around and focused on his arm. When he reached to touch that, it was suddenly
the worst headache he�d ever experienced, even after Legilimency sessions with
Snape.

�� Ah, yes,�
Malfoy�s voice said, somewhere on the other side of the pain, back in the
normal world that Harry could dimly remember. �I should have warned you about
that, though I had thought you would feel the difference in the flesh of your
arm. You�re Marked, now.� There was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice
when he said that word. �That means you�re mine. And I can hurt you if you try
to attack me, or if you do something I don�t like.�

�� Harry
couldn�t answer. How could he? The pain was in his gut again, and it felt as
though someone was struggling to be born from his flesh.

�� Then the
pain was gone. Harry fell limply on the floor and breathed.

�� Of
course,� Malfoy said, �life in my service is not all slavery. I wouldn�t blame
someone who received no return from it for rebelling and finding a way to kill
me despite the pain. A dog that�s trained only to be vicious will bite its
handler as well. And I want willing service�or service that I�ve trained to be
willing. Thus, this.�

�� Harry
gasped. He was drifting suddenly in the middle of bliss. It was like the
sensation that had filled his head when he wakened, the warm icebergs, but a
thousand times more intense. Like the pain, it had no obvious source. Harry
thought he could have dealt with a sensation of fingers touching him, or warm water
being poured over his skin, but this was different. More diffuse, and more
solid, by turns. The only time he had ever felt a shadow of it was when he had
imagined what having parents would be like.

�� It ended.
Harry shut his eyes, and thought of the despair in Baines�s face when he
demanded to know why she didn�t rebel against Malfoy.

�� I understand that, now.

�� I�m sure
the Aurors teach you the basics of psychology,� Malfoy said calmly above him.
�Pleasure and pain work together. Long enough under both, and you start
avoiding the actions that bring pain and doing the things that give pleasure.
And it makes you kindly inclined to the person who rules over you. That�s the
way the human mind works.�

�� Harry
turned his head, and Malfoy straightened up suddenly, his eyes narrowed, his
expression suddenly losing all traces of amusement.

�� Not my mind,� Harry said quietly. He was
partially aiming to sound impressive, but he meant every word he spoke as pure,
unadorned truth. �If you want to keep your life, Malfoy, you�ll have to kill
me, because I won�t break, and I won�t bend, no matter how much you alternate
the pleasure and the pain, and someday I�ll destroy you.�

*

�� Draco
thought it was a good thing that Potter�s eyes were fastened firmly on his
face, because he would probably have been puzzled why Draco was sporting such a
large erection.

�� God. None of his Marked ones, not even
Lisa, who had been the most furious when she was first taken prisoner, had ever
said anything like that to him, much less assumed they could pull it off. Draco
mostly enslaved survivors. They would curse and rage, and then give in and go
along with it, assuming that things would change someday and let them be free.
Some, like Oliver, were even grateful for the protection that the Mark had
offered; it meant he could stay in one place and not be driven away when people
found out about his closeness to the Dementors.

�� But Potter�

�� But Potter.

�� Draco
wanted to fuck him so badly that it was torture to keep standing still. But if
he went to him now, Potter might have some idea of the power he wielded over
Draco simply by looking at him with that steady, bright gaze. And that would
not do at all. Draco needed Potter to become powerful and devoted to him before
he tried anything like that. He didn�t intend to be enslaved himself, even if
he gave more freedom to Potter than to any of his other subordinates.

�� Aren�t you
the least bit interested in recovering yourself?� Draco asked softly. �I told
you, I viewed that memory, and I have reason to be critical of you if anyone
does. It wasn�t your fault. If someone in the Ministry tried to make you feel
it was, they were at fault, not you.�

�� Potter
shook his head. He hadn�t bothered altering the position of his body at all, as
if it didn�t matter to him that he was slumped on the floor in an undignified
puddle at Draco�s feet. �You would try
to convince me of that, Malfoy,� he said. �So you can use the salve for my
conscience to make me dependent on you, to make me all the more eager to bow
down and kiss your feet. Well, I know what you�re up to, now, and I don�t
intend to listen. I won�t let you comfort me. It would all be false comfort
anyway.�

�� Draco
sighed and grinned at the same moment. That was such a Potter thing to think, or at least the confession of it was, and
yet it was accurate.

�� He will not be easy to tame. And I need the
challenge.

�� Think
about this, then,� Draco said. �I received information about you from the
Ministry. They didn�t tell me that you were such a fighter. On the other hand,
they told you nothing about me, either, or about what you would be facing, here
in Fox Valley. And they do know. The only sane conclusion is that they meant
you to destroy me, or die trying.�

�� Potter
stubbornly shook his head, teeth chewing into the inside of his cheek. �I don�t
believe you. That�s just the sort of thing you would say to try and turn me
against my employers.�

�� Draco
turned and reached for the file on the desk next to him, holding it out to
Potter. Potter leaned warily in, keeping one eye on Draco at all times�which
charmed Draco with its absurdity; after all, he didn�t need to use his wand or
make a move in order to have Potter squirming in pain or pleasure�and looked at
the handwriting.

�� His face
turned the color of old milk, but his voice was steady. �That doesn�t mean
anything. You could have charmed the paper.�

�� Draco shut
the folder and turned it over. �You must have seen this file before. Do they
ever leave the Ministry? In this exact folder? Someone had to get it through
the wards. And I would hardly be welcome to walk into the Ministry, even
assuming that no one knew about my crimes. Do you deny that I must have had an
agent inside?�

�� Potter�s
breath had quickened. Still, though, he gave Draco a glance in which the hatred
burned like the beam of a lantern. �You don�t necessarily have someone who
wants me dead,� he said. �One of your Marked ones could have walked in. They
wouldn�t know who they were.�

�� And taken
the file?� Draco asked. He was enjoying this, chipping away at Potter�s hope
little by little. It made a beautiful sound when it crumbled. �Could anyone who
belonged to me and not the Ministry, no matter how skilled, get past all the
wards and spells they use to guard their archives?� He snorted and shut the
file. �Do be serious, Potter.�

�� Potter shut
his eyes and shook his head. �So, who is your supposed agent?� he asked, voice
as sharp as broken iron. �It would be interesting to know that, and since you
seem intent on bragging to me anyway��

�� He calls
himself Arthur,� Draco replied, deciding to overlook the use of the word
�bragging.� This time. �But that�s a
play on his first name, not his actual one. His name is Gawain Robards.�

*

�� Cracks
appeared in Harry�s faith, and he felt it breaking like rotten ice.

�� Robards. He chose this resort. He was the
one who suggested the holiday. He was the one who told me about the bad press
the Ministry was receiving because of me, and never passed up any chance to
make me feel guilty for not saving those two.

�� But that
was the kind of thing he was supposed to
do, as Head Auror. He watched over the health, both mental and physical, of his
Aurors. He let them know when they�d made mistakes, and did what he could to
help them recover from those mistakes. He�

�� He didn�t
need to choose holiday destinations, did he? And whenever Harry had asked to be
let out of the holiday, or tried to counter the suggestion that he come here,
Robards had some reason why he shouldn�t drop it or why no other place would be
as good for him to recover in. It had come to the point where Harry had almost
wondered whether Robards had an interest of some kind in the resort, maybe an
investment that allowed him to receive Galleons if he sent visitors there.

�� He shook
his head and reminded himself that he still only had the information from
Malfoy, and that Malfoy was cleverer with spells than he had thought. This Mark
on his arm, for example�the stylized running fox�was like nothing that Harry
had ever seen. And if he could compel people with pain, maybe he had decided to
compel Robards.

�� There�s a
spell I can perform on the file to tell if Robards was the one who sent it to
you,� he said.

�� Malfoy
considered him, eyebrows rising higher and higher. Harry had no idea what his
face looked like right now. He didn�t think he cared. He simply kept his eyes
on Malfoy, and said nothing. For a moment, even his hatred for the man was
nothing next to the compulsion to know whether Robards was really behind this
or not.

�� Malfoy
finally said, �That would mean letting you have your wand back.�

�� Yes, it
would,� Harry said. He probably could have done the spell wandlessly, but fuck
if he was going to reveal that to Malfoy. He would give up no advantage until
he had to.

�� Malfoy
shook his head. �I can�t risk it.�

�� Harry
pulled his lips back until he bared all his teeth. �Then I�ll continue to
retain the privilege of not believing you.�

�� Malfoy
smiled. �You look like a wolf,� he said. �Cornered, eyes flaring with green
fire, but not yet dead. I think I�ll call you that. My wolf.�

�� Harry
didn�t growl, because it would have confirmed Malfoy�s juvenile suggestion. He
simply remained still, and let his stare bore into Malfoy, and waited for the
conclusion of this ridiculous game.

�� Malfoy
dropped gracefully and swiftly to his knees, so gracefully and so swiftly that
Harry barely realized he�d moved at first. Then he said, �There is another solution.� He drew his wand
and held it out towards Harry. �Cast the spell with my hand on yours,
controlling the motions, so that I�m sure you can�t use it against me.�

�� Harry
stared at him. Malfoy looked at him from a distance of several feet away, close
enough that Harry could see the delicate tremble of his eyelashes and the way
his eyes flared under the lids. His face wore an expression of playful
seriousness, if there was such a thing�and if there wasn�t, Harry was sure that
he would find a way to invent it.

�� He didn�t
withdraw his offer, and Harry knew that he was probably not going to get a
better one. He drew a deep, bitter breath, reminded himself that he was a slave
for the present and he had to think that way, and reached out a hand.

�� Malfoy came
crawling towards him, moving his arse and his long, slender legs far more than
he needed to. Then he slipped around behind Harry and knelt at his back, arms
fitting around his shoulders, his hands covering Harry�s as he held the wand
out to him.

�� Harry
tensed to surge to his feet, but a warning tingle of pain in his arm told him
not to. He gritted his teeth, wishing he could do something other than
surrender, and accepted Malfoy�s guidance.

�� But a plan
had already sprung into his mind, inspired, perhaps, by Malfoy�s comment on his
wolf-like qualities and the memory of the werewolves he had killed earlier that
day.

�� If I can�t free myself from him right away,
then the best thing I can do is change him. Transform him into someone I can
put up with.

*

�� Draco had
to close his eyes in bliss. Oh, yes, this had been an inspired suggestion.

�� His cheek
rested against the back of Potter�s neck, his arms against Potter�s shoulders,
his knee against Potter�s back. He could feel his muscles shifting, smell his
scent, and feel the way he tensed and bent and unfolded and was. This close, too, Potter�s power was
a mist rising around him, fit to fill the world with fog, or to become a sun that
would burn the fog away.

�� Draco
stroked his fingers idly along the length of the wand, a hair away from
Potter�s fingers. Potter barely paid attention as he chanted the spell, a
lengthy one that Draco didn�t bother listening to. He could always use Priori Incantatem to recover it from his
wand later, and besides, he probably already knew it.

�� No, his
thoughts were filled instead with the perfection of Potter, and how he was
going to make use of him. Change him into someone Draco could trust to bound
tamely at his side.

�� He�d read
about taming wolves once, when he had been a little boy and begged so hard for
a tame one that his father had handed him a book that would explain why that
was impossible. Wolves were always a little bit wild, the book claimed. They
could stand happily on a chain and act like dogs for years and years, and then
they would turn around and bury their teeth in your throat when they decided to
challenge you one day.

�� But Draco
was happy to meet that challenge, since he had more than a little bit of
wildness within himself.

�� Sometimes I think about freeing people when
I�m done with them, he murmured soundlessly into Potter�s ear, and watched
the absent way Potter shuddered. In no more than a few months, that motion would
not be absent. But you. I will never let
you go.

*

�� Harry tried
to ignore the way that Malfoy was drooling in his ear and focused on the
results of the spell. The magic raced through the hawthorn wand in an odd way,
and he hated the way Malfoy gripped
his hands, but those didn�t matter, either. The only thing that mattered was
what the spell could tell him.

�� The
conclusion was undeniable. The names of the people who had touched that file
and another object�in this case, Harry had chosen an owl, since he thought the
file had probably been brought that way�appeared in the air. The only two were
Malfoy�s name and Gawain Robards.

�� Harry shut
his eyes. He had no reason to feel so personally betrayed, he thought. After
all, he was only one Auror among many. Why should Robards feel a compulsion to
shelter him particularly?

�� But for
once, his attempts to make his suffering less than it was, and remind himself
that he really deserved nothing, backfired. His harsh breaths through his
clenched teeth turned to rage. He bore down hard enough that he thought he
might have snapped Malfoy�s wand, if Malfoy hadn�t stroked his wrists and made
him think about something else.

�� Very well,
I believe you,� Harry said harshly. He kept his eyes shut. He would do
something undignified like weep if he looked up now, and he didn�t want to. I gave all my strength, all my heart and my
hope, to the Ministry. He had no right to treat me like shite. �It was
Robards.�

�� You�ll
have your vengeance, my wolf.� Malfoy�s breath was warm and wet, and Harry
shuddered. Why is he doing this? I don�t
think I�ll ever understand him, which could be a problem if I intend on
changing him into a different person. �We�ll bring him down, and we�ll make
sure that the entire Ministry knows the way he betrayed you. He�ll suffer
before he dies.�

�� Harry�s
eyes popped open. Maybe it was because he was so consumed with his outrage over
Robards, but he hadn�t even thought about killing him.

�� No,� he
said. �I don�t want him dead.�

�� No?�
Malfoy licked his ear. Harry stirred
in revulsion. What the fuck is he
thinking? �But I do. And I think you�ll find, Harry, that it pays for you
to do what pleases me.�

�� Harry made
himself sit still with an effort of will so great that he thought he could feel
his bones creaking. Malfoy released the wand and pulled it away, and Harry
heaved a sigh of relief, thinking that meant he was getting up.

�� But Malfoy
didn�t rise. Instead, he shifted his arms so that he was embracing Harry from
behind, along the ribs and waist instead of the shoulders, and said, almost
reverently, �Do you know how rare a prize you are? And the Ministry treated you
as if you weren�t worth anything at all.� His touch was light, fingertips
skating up Harry�s shirt, and Harry shivered, hating himself for the gooseflesh
that broke out beneath the shirt. �So powerful. You will only become more
powerful once I show you how to drain magic and how to hold the bracelets.�

�� Harry flung
himself to his feet, and judged from Malfoy�s grunt that he�d kicked something
vital on the way. Good. He whirled
around, and Malfoy gazed up at him, face sullen and shining.

�� I�m not
going to drain magic from other people and use it,� Harry said. �Punish me all
you like. As long as I�m writhing in pain, at least I�m not helping you.�

�� Malfoy
shook his head. The sullenness had faded, and now he simply looked amused. �You
do not truly understand pain. What I have done with the Mark is based on the
Cruciatus Curse, but stronger. And it will not make you go mad. In the end, you
have no choice. No human being can stand up against that much agony.�

�� Harry
sneered at him. He didn�t mind that he was giving up one of his
advantages�well, he almost didn�t mind�because what he said was something
Malfoy could have figured out on his own. �Like I said, while I�m writhing in
pain, I can�t help you. And the minute I stop, then I�m going to refuse again.
I can�t be tamed by the fear of pain, the way that you�ve tamed those other
poor bastards you�ve enslaved.�

�� Malfoy
climbed to his feet, never taking his eyes from Harry. �That pain can tame
anyone.�

�� Harry heard
the wavering doubt in the back of his voice and pressed impatiently forwards.
�Are you sure? Have you ever known me to be afraid of anything? And what you want from me sounds like it�s more
complicated and more intense than anything that you�ve demanded from them.�

�� He paused.
Malfoy said nothing, but the skin between his eyes was puckered.

�� What do
you want?� Harry asked. �Some cooperation on those things that I will help you with, like bringing down
Robards, or a constant battle, where you�ll destroy me before you get anywhere?
I think someone could spend weeks recovering from the pain that you inflict
through the Mark. That�s what�ll happen to me.� He lowered his voice. �Or you could get some compliance out of me,
which I know you hunger for, by giving in on one simple point.�

�� He spread
his arms in a mocking gesture, but never took his eyes from Malfoy. �It�s up to
you. Choose.�

*

�� Rage and
hunger and admiration surged through Draco, and he nearly wondered how he could
remember the names of the separate emotions, so thick were they, so
intermingled.

�� He is trying to force me. No one can do
that.

�� But he
could see why Potter thought that no one could force him, either. Draco could try, but in salving his pride and his
temper he would lose a tool and a companion. None of his Marked ones were true
companions. They obeyed him, they often no longer seemed to resent him, and
they used their talents in the ways he commanded them to. But that wasn�t the
same as being made of the same material as himself.

�� I could have that. If only I am patient.

�� Draco sat
still until he was sure that he could command his rage. What he said was not
always what he intended to say.

�� Potter�s been with me five minutes and he
already makes me aware of my weaknesses, he thought as he climbed to his
feet. He did not (completely) mind. That would be a useful talent to have, so
that he could avoid the pitfalls that might open under his feet before they
opened. The only thing he must avoid was showing gratitude to Potter, who might
otherwise get overconfident.

�� Besides,
the Mark would always tilt the balance of power between them in a way that
would leave Draco comfortably in control.

�� I accept
your offer, Potter,� he said. �You help me bring down Robards, who is a traitor
to both of us. Then you and I will negotiate what else you might help me do.�

�� Potter
nodded once, his eyes so bright that Draco knew he was envisioning a future in
which he helped Draco do nothing else, but broke free and attacked his
tormentor.

�� Draco gave
Potter a slow smile. Although he would have to be careful of the way in which
he used the pain and pleasure of the Mark, he could still, subtly, condition
Potter to see the world through his eyes. He would change the man, give him
rewards and attention and enough bickering that he wouldn�t notice the first
two things, until he came to Draco�s side, slinking along like a great cat.

�� Great cats
were dangerous, Draco knew. He had only to look at Thalia in her Animagus form
to be reminded of that. And the man who had defeated her was more so. But they
could be tamed.

�� I shall change his soul, and in the end he
shall be of use to me because he desires to be.

*

�� Harry
clenched his hands into fists at his sides. It hurt to bow his neck to Malfoy,
but it was what he had to do for now.

�� The Mark
couldn�t be evaded by distance, as Robards proved. He couldn�t kill Malfoy, and
he believed that.

�� That left
one option: to slowly steer Malfoy around to his side without making the
steering obvious.

�� I shall change his soul, and in the end
he�ll be the kind of person who lets me go of his own free will.

�� Harry
didn�t acknowledge the thought that whispered after that one.

�� Or else the kind of master I can live with.

�� Where do
we begin, to destroy Robards?� he asked. �Do you have information on him?�

�� Malfoy
turned his head in a supercilious manner and picked up a file from a large pile
on his desk. �Yes. Come here��

�� Harry put
up with the hint of command because it wasn�t pressing, and stepped up to
Malfoy�s side to read the file over his shoulder.

�� He wasn�t
happy, over anything that had
happened, and he couldn�t see that his next task, battling Malfoy while trying
to keep his own soul from being tarnished, was going to be any easier than
forgiving himself for what he�d done on his last case.

�� But there
was one kind of hard comfort to be found in it.

�� I have to do it. So I might as well get to
work.

�� The End. There will be a sequel, �Wolf in
the Making.�

*

�� k lave
demo: Thank you!

�� Draco is
deeply and intensely practical. Along with not taking too much magic, being too
greedy, he�s not going to trust to compelling people because of his charisma.
That might wear off. Instead, what he does is Mark them and then condition them
so that they serve him semi-willingly, and aren�t either going to desert him
when they want to or because they hate him.

�� paigeey07:
Thanks!

�� fudge:
Thanks!

�� SP777: I
had the idea really suddenly in December, and it led to this.

�� Well, you
might think differently about Draco after this section.

�� I can�t
tell you everything about Draco�s background yet, as that�s for the sequels.

�� Thrnbrooke:
He�s not, not really.

�� chesterton:
Thanks for reviewing.

�� dawn_of_twilight:
Thank you!

�� purple-er:
Well, there are some obvious implications to the Mark, which I�m sure you can
tease out.

�� laurenbee:
Thank you for reviewing.

�� mrequecky:
Thanks!
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The Mark of the Fox