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Black Magic by Moonlight - A HP/Anita Blake xover	By : Beren Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > General - Misc Views: 11954 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and Laurell K. Hamiltonet al. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter List
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They were only going to pick up some things from Draco's house, a simple errand that should have been easy. Jason was driving the car and Harry followed Draco out of the door to head up the steps to the front entrance. He had reached the bottom first step and Draco was headed up when he heard something that sounded like strong wind. Turning he felt something thud into his chest, taking the wind from him and throwing him backwards.
It was so sudden that at first it didn't hurt and the way he hit the pavement was worse, but it did not take long for his mind to catch up. White hot agony shot through his chest from the point of contact, burning and stabbing at his nerves taking away all other thought.
"Harry!" he heard Draco's voice, but he felt strangely disconnected from reality as his body tried to process the pain.
Looking up he could see the shocked and worried face of his lover gazing down at him and he found Draco beautiful even as he tried to comprehend what was happening. It was almost as if everything was in slow motion as he saw first one and then another bolt thud into Draco, throwing his lover sideways. For a moment it was almost as if all he could see was red as the world came back to normal speed.
Harry reached out to Draco, with his mind and body, feeling his lover's pain as he fell and desperate to do something, but it was as if they were frozen in time as the world went on around them. The shaft in his chest felt as if it was on fire and he could feel something seeping into his system making the world around him fuzzy. Draco was in danger; Draco was hurt, but Harry couldn't do anything. Everything was dimming and his magic was sluggish and would not do what he wanted it to. He could feel Draco, but his thoughts would not work properly to connect with his lover's.
He heard Jason's shout and he wanted to help, to protect those he cared about, but nothing seemed to work quite right. Moving hurt and seemed to take more energy than he had in his whole body. Even as his preternatural aspects rose to the surface it did no good. As his cat tried to break through it was as if it was shackled and the bolt in his chest flared with heat. It lanced through his beast like lightening causing it to shrink back like an injured kitten and it occurred to his sluggish brain that he had been shot with silver. His human part was only slightly allergic to the metal through association, but to his cat it could be deadly.
His vampire was no better off and his instincts wanted to reach out for strength from his human servant, but hurt was coming from Draco as well. Draco was injured, badly injured and there was a need in Harry to try and heal him, but he had no ability to do so. Every time he reached out with anything he was engulfed in agony and fear and even his eyes were beginning to fail him.
A shadowy figure was leaning over him holding something, but he couldn't tell what. It was as if his eyes were back to how they had been and he didn't have his glasses as everything took on a surreal tone. Rough hands reached down to him and he could do nothing as he was hauled to his feet. The world vanished in a wave of negative and the only thing that kept him upright was the pair of hands holding him up and they were not gentle.
Another of his captors dragged his hands behind his back, pulling on the wound in his chest making him groan with pain and then roughly handcuffed. The way the metal tingled against his skin he knew his shackles had some silver in them.
He could not see much, but being held on his feet he could see more than when he had been on the ground. There were at least five people near him and three of them were between him and Draco. That was not right and somewhere in his rapidly fogging brain he needed to do something about it. Draco needed his help and he managed to focus enough energy to try and pull away from the hands holding him. Almost instantly he was dragged back towards his captor and one of the figures in front of him reached out and took hold of the bolt in his chest. The person twisted it viciously and Harry could not stop the howl of pain that was wrenched from his body as his knees went weak.
"No!" it was Draco's voice, filled with agony and desperation.
There was also snarling from further away and even cowed the cat in Harry recognised a fellow lycanthrope.
"Put that one out of its misery," a male voice said from close to him, "and let the sorcerer's pet eat the wolf."
"Leave him alone," Harry tried to day, but all that came out was a jumble of sounds.
They meant to kill Draco. They were going to hurt his beloved and he couldn't do anything about it. Pure despair welled up in him as he was dragged away from his fallen lover and he had no strength to fight back. There was a sickening thud and the sound of pain as Harry felt the reflection of agony from Draco. He knew without a doubt that the moment Draco died so would he and it was the one thought he welcomed. These madmen obviously wanted him alive for some reason and they would not get their wish.
"Jesus, he's still alive."
Harry did not know who spoke, but all he could do was pray that something would happen before their meaning was lost. Draco was weak, he could feel it and there was little strength coming from him. Too much confusion and pain prevented any sensible thought, but Harry had one last thing he needed to tell his Slytherin.
[I love you,] he threw at Draco with all the mental strength he had left.
He heard the sound of something being loaded and he knew it was the end. They were going to shoot Draco again, and this time it would kill him. Yet, even as he braced himself for the cold touch of death there was the loud sound of snarling. There was the sound of a bolt flying from a bow of some sort and then a thud, but there was no answering pain from Draco and the whine that followed was lycanthrope.
"Shit, there's more than one," the voice sounded panicked, but Harry could not tell what was going on.
All he knew was that he was suddenly being dragged away faster and he felt the essence of pure evil seeping into his bones. There was the sound of fighting, but the fast movement and the waves of pain coming from Draco and his own wound were too much. Knowing that he might never wake up again he could do nothing to stop the darkness from reaching up and taking him.
====
Anita was trying to be calm and professional, but on the inside she was frantic. Harry was missing, Draco was only just this side of death and it was only thanks to two unknown lycanthropes that Jason had not met his maker. As it was, one of those lycanthropes, a werewolf, was dead and the other, a weretiger, had been in surgery for only just shorter than Draco. The doctors had given them word that both had survived that far, but those waiting had no other word.
The only reason Draco was still alive was because one of the Wizarding healers had turned up at the hospital and offered his assistance. Anita did not know how the man had known, or where he had come from, but she had not argued when it was clear that the normal doctors had given up on the injured wizard. It had seemed to take just as long as the kind of treatment she was used to, but she had heard something about counteracting a potion before she was thrown out of the area like everyone else. She had been pacing the corridor with Nathaniel, Jason and Lupin ever since. Jason had a bandage on his arm to show for his brush with death.
How could a day have gone downhill so fast and so far? It was almost incomprehensible. They had had their plan of attack and everything had seemed to have a new energy, but now this. The enemy had been brighter than they had thought and using weapons and a demon on a public street had not been anything they had expected. Anita had been kicking herself for the last three hours as they waited to hear about Draco and she had shooed Jean-Claude out of her mind when he had tried to comfort her. She didn't want to be comforted; she had been an idiot and people were hurt so she wanted to hurt too.
When a doctor in green scrubs and the Wizarding healer in his odd looking clothes walked through the double doors in the corridor it was all Anita could do not to grab them and demand answers.
"Well?" she said pointedly when both men stood there looking solemn.
"The weretiger is stable and awake," the doctor said in a very serious voice. "He insists that he must speak with you, Ms Blake, or the Master of the city."
At least that would good news; she would have some answers.
"And Draco?" Remus sounded as agitated as Anita felt.
"We are waiting to see if the stabilisation spells are successful," it was the healer who spoke this time. "The silver bolts have been removed and the potion has been purged from Mr Malfoy's system, but he is in magical and physical crisis. I'm afraid we won't know either way for several hours."
And they wouldn't have to wait if his kidnappers killed Harry, but Anita managed to stop herself voicing that. At least the blond wizard was not dead; it had been a very close thing. That was about the only good thing Anita could see about the whole situation, but maybe now she could start to do something.
"Can I see the lycanthrope?" she asked bluntly, determined not to dwell on the knowledge that they might have already lost.
"He's weak," the doctor did not look happy, "but I do not think he will settle until he had seen you, so yes, but only for a few minutes. If you can, we would like his name."
Anita nodded. She was determined to have some answers even if she did have to agree with an official to get it.
"This way," the doctor said and indicated the doors behind him.
Nathaniel stood up from where he was huddled in a chair next to Jason and went to follow her as Anita walked as directed.
"I'm sorry," the doctor said almost instantly, "but only one visitor at a time. The stress on the patient must be kept to a minimum."
Those big lilac eyes were not happy when Anita indicated that Nathaniel should stay put, but he did return to his chair. She knew Nathaniel just wanted to be there to support her and it gave her a little comfort.
"I'll be back soon," she promised and then followed the doctor down the hall.
The weretiger's room was not far down the corridor and she followed the physician into the dimly lit room, not sure what she expected to see. What greeted her was a pale eyed, dark haired man who looked completely exhausted, but never-the-less awake. He met her gaze as soon as she walked in and she knew a powerful lycanthrope when she saw one. This was no wandering good Samaritan, of that Anita was very sure.
"Five minutes," was all the doctor said before he backed out and closed the door.
There was silence for a while as Anita contemplated the man in the bed and he did the same in kind. It was almost like assessing a possible threat, but both of them knew they were on the same side.
"I believe we have you to thank for preventing two deaths," Anita finally spoke. "I'm sorry about your friend."
"Karl knew it was a dangerous assignment when we took it," the man in the bed replied in an accented voice, "he would have been glad to die in a good cause."
Anita had spent enough time around Jean-Claude to know a French man when she heard one and she had a suspicion she knew what she was about to be told.
"Now that my presence had been revealed I wish to apologise for any deception and offer my allegiance for the length of my stay," the man in the bed said formally.
It wasn't how Anita would have started a conversation, but they did things very differently in Europe, and she thought that this lycanthrope probably associated with people with very long memories.
"You can start with your name and why you are here," she said calmly. "Then we'll talk about allegiances."
"As you wish," the man replied, leaning his head back on his pillow here he had been looking up. "My name is Michel Ravione, and I am here in the employ of the Council, but I believe you had guessed that already."
Anita inclined her head to agree, but did not speak. Sometimes if you gave someone enough rope they would hang themselves without you having to do anything.
"Our instructions were to protect the hybrid and his human servant at all costs," Ravione continued with regret in his voice. "I can only apologise for our failure; I would have given my life if it would have helped."
"They are both still alive," Anita replied, not in the mood for a martyr to the cause, "that's better than it could have been. Why is the Council protecting Harry?"
Ravione looked back at her again and she was sure he would have shrugged had he not been bandaged over his whole chest and one shoulder.
"I am but a soldier, Ms Blake," he told her, "I am not privy to my masters' reasoning. My instructions were to remain hidden and if discovered offer my services to the Master of the City or his human servant, so that is what I am doing."
It was always games when the Council were involved and Anita was very sure that if they had gone to the trouble of leaving bodyguards behind then they felt Harry was far more important than even the Traveler had made out. Maybe they really were convinced that Mommy Dearest was going to wake up. She shook her head; guessing games with the Council were not going to help now.
"Right," she said shortly, "you've done your duty, great. Now can you tell me anything useful?"
Ravione's face was blank for a moment and Anita was pretty sure that she had managed to annoy him, but she was not in the mood to be nice.
"We were instructed to stay close to our charges," Ravione said eventually, "but I believe we may have seen more than your people. Your enemies were using a pair of sorcerers, one female for the attack at your residence, one male for that attack today. The female is dead. Whatever happened at your house, her demon turned around and killed her for it. The man was with the group who took Potter and he's powerful; he controlled the demon with lesser bindings."
Anita did not know much about sorcery, but she knew enough to know that took experience. An average sorcerer would only raise a demon in a circle to prevent escape, but it was possible with other bindings. Not as guaranteed as the name suggested, but it could be done. Anita hated demons, but at least she now knew something about what they were up against. It wasn't much, but when she looked back at Ravione she saw his eyelids drooping, even though he tried to cover it as soon as he saw her watching him.
It seemed that all alpha lycanthropes were macho on some level, but this one was half dead, and it was beginning to show.
"Do you know anything that could help us find Harry?" she asked bluntly, aware that she was running out of time.
Ravione shook his head and looked very apologetic.
"We were bodyguards," Ravione said slowly, "we did not have the resources to follow the enemy."
It wasn't what Anita wanted to hear, but it wasn't exactly a shock and she nodded.
"Then get some sleep, Ravione," she said firmly, "before you pass out and the nice doctor yells at me. The longer explanations can wait until you're stronger."
For a moment she thought the lycanthrope would object so she gave him her best don't-mess-with-me face and eventually the man nodded just slightly. Unfortunately he was not a get out of jail free card, but at least he had been there to make sure Draco was not dead. Anita studied him for a moment and then she turned and walked out; there was nothing more to say.
====
It hurt just to breathe and Harry could barely convince his abused body to drag in enough oxygen to survive. He knew he was drugged, but what was worse was the barely existent life force next to his own. Until Draco had almost been killed he had had no idea quite how closely they were connected, but now he knew the meaning of their bond. His whole body was shaking and there was no strength in any part of him. The chains that his captors had all but cocooned him in seemed ridiculous.
The wound in his chest still burned, as did the spell scar and he vaguely understood that those who had him were preparing something, but his mind would not stick to any particular thought. He did not know how long he had been lying on the floor and he could barely tell that he was in some sort of storage room; all that his mind could concentrate on was the distant heart beat of his lover. It was if he was listening to Draco sleep in a bed next to him as the sense of life trickled through his mind, seemingly ever on the verge of stopping. It was all the mattered.
{Death}
The sound of a voice brought him just a little way out of the shock that was taking over his entire system.
{Nasty death.}
He had no idea where the sound was coming from, but it triggered something in his mind. Something that was not waiting to die woke up and realised that this was not the voice of the enemy.
{Wha..at?} he asked, his voice unsteady and barely there, but managing the simple word.
The familiar feel of parseltongue was almost too much for him in his weakened state. It caused his throat to tighten and the need to cough filled his chest, but he clung on to his control. There was no reply for a few moments, but he could hear the quiet hiss of scales on a wooden floor and as he stared ahead, almost unseeing, a small blob appeared in front of him.
{You smell of death,} what he had to assume was the snake said matter-of-factly. {Will you depart soon?}
{Don'... don't want... to die,} was what Harry managed to force from his reluctant mouth.
{Yet you lie here,} the snake replied with the blatant honesty he had come to expect from the animals.
That was a fact he could not refute, but snakes had a very limited comprehension of anything that was not natural.
{Need help,} he said, trying to make the creature understand.
Every word caused the pain in his chest to build, but he was more awake now than he had been since the attack. With something to focus on his survival instincts were taking notice.
{I cannot help you,} the snake replied, {you are too big. I have venom if you would like a quicker death.}
{No,} Harry replied, trying to sound polite even as the strength to speak was leaving him, {I cannot... take that path.}
The snake made a few hisses that did not translate into words; Harry thought the serpent found him confusing.
{Do you,} Harry began again, forcing the words from his lips, {know the place where the Mistress of serpents is?}
He had tried to say lamia, but it obviously had another meaning in parseltongue. The blob in front of his face reared up and swayed.
{All know of her power,} the creature said reverently, {but her place is out of my territory.}
{She can help,} Harry tried to convey the urgency he was feeling. {Could you...} the desire to cough almost took away his voice, {could you go to her?}
{Her place is not within my territory,} the snake insisted and Harry's hopes began to fade.
How could he explain that this was more important than territory? To a snake there were three priorities in life: food, territory and mate. Dying was just a matter of natural course and his companion clearly wasn't following him. Searching his mind he tried to find an argument that the snake might understand, but before he could speak there was a loud slamming sound and light flooded into his little room.
"I heard something," a voice said vehemently.
{Please,} Harry whispered to the snake as if ducked away from him.
"He's trying to do something," the voice said, and he could hear fear in the tone.
"Then shut him up," was the cold response, and Harry had no time to even say anything before hands were grabbing him.
The pain of movement took away any voice he had left and the world faded out as his captors manhandled him to keep him quiet.
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Black Magic by Moonlight - A HP/Anita Blake xover