Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Ancient and Noble Houses	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29877 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

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Chapter Thirty-Five—Midair
            Draco couldn’t understand exactly what Harry found so interesting in the crystal-sprinkled air above them, but he wished Harry would start acting sane again and come back to earth.
            And you’re calling him Harry again.
            Draco rolled his eyes. So he was. That didn’t mean he was going to worry about it when he had other things that were much more pressing to worry about.
            He circled, craning his neck back. Harry was flying steadily towards some goal, he thought, his head thrown back and his hands clenched on the broom as though he was holding onto a lover. Higher and higher, and the only thing Draco could see above them was darkness, a cloud drifting by. It was getting hard to see, but even so, Draco thought he would have known if someone else was out here.
            And what else could Harry be interested in? There weren’t any trees with branches overhanging the Quidditch Pitch, and once again, Draco thought he would have known if any creature had flown this way from the Forbidden Forest.
            Then he saw what looked like a coiled dragon or snake, hanging in the air above Harry’s head and snapping open its jaws.
            Draco felt fear touch him as though someone had taken a rod loaded with it and traced it straight down his spine. He kicked so hastily with his legs that for a second he didn’t move the broom anywhere; he was just hanging there while Harry neared his doom above him. And then he found the speed and the courage somewhere, when he hadn’t had them before to follow Harry that high, and shot up after him.
            The sky was opening above Harry now, unfolding in dazzling patterns of blue and white and yellow, jagged and edged but only around the sides. The air in the center was smooth, like a pinwheel. But Draco could see the brooding darkness in that center, and didn’t think that meant it was any safer.
            “Harry!” Draco shouted. He doubted Harry heard him, the way his voice was immediately drawn into the torrent of wind and noise, but he tried anyway. He wasn’t close enough yet to grab Harry’s leg and try to drag him off the broom, which had been the immediate plan.
            Harry didn’t look down or back. In fact, he had an arm extended in front of him. Draco squinted, thinking for an insane second that Harry might be offering an owl treat to the dragon or snake or whatever it was.
            No. Instead, he was offering it his bare fingers. And with teeth that shone as long as daggers in the sunlight, the dragon or snake or whatever the fuck it was was reaching back. Draco could hear a snarl deeper than his own heartbeat coming up its throat.
            He wasn’t close enough to reach. Draco didn’t know that he had the ability to distract Harry from the thing anyway, not if it was a manifestation of the house or the curse on the house.
            So he did the next best thing, and bent over the broom, hurtling upwards as if the snake or dragon was the Snitch and Harry another Seeker. And as he came level with the both of them, he turned sideways and hit Harry as hard as he could, knocking him spinning and his hand away from the toothy mouth reaching for it.
            There was a silence as thick and rich as an indrawn breath, although Draco mostly saw that the colors of the pinwheel above them had all darkened, turning rich brown or black, and Harry was turning to stare at Draco with a look of betrayal.
            Then there was another breath, as deep as winter, above them.
            And the dragon-snake uncoiled one of many necks and struck down, straight at Draco, open jaws and horned head shaking with fury, the roar deafening him, and the cold night air freezing his hands on the broom when he tried to dodge.
*
            Harry didn’t understand. One second, he had been approaching the mouth of a dark tunnel guarded by hissing snakes. They had told him it was all right, that he didn’t have to fear, that this was the ordeal by which he became rightful master of the House of Black. And nothing would stalk him anymore after this, either, because he had done what he was supposed to and no one could fault him for facing and passing the ordeal. His friends would be safe. Draco would be safe.
            Now he was knocked aside with his head ringing and his glasses almost gone from his nose, and there was no tunnel. There was only a snake—or a hydra, that might be more accurate to name it, Harry thought—looming above him, and one head was biting at Draco, who looked too terrified to move.
            A dark thought stirred in the depths of Harry’s mind, something about how Draco deserved this for refusing to leave, and for coming after Harry to the pitch in the first place, when he had made it clear that he only wanted to be alone.
            But he sent the idea away, impatiently. He had risked a lot trying to keep Draco safe. He had even risked controlling and alienating him by relying on the house’s influence. The house had promised him Draco would be safe if he did this.
            Like hell was he going to let the house harm Draco simply because Harry had got distracted and decided it would be best to pass the ordeal.
            He drew his wand without thinking, and the first spell that sprang to his tongue was the one he had always used when he wanted to feel protected. “Expecto Patronum!”
            The silvery stag manifested right there in the air with them, and didn’t seem to have any doubt about who its enemy was, even though there were no Dementors around. It flew up and at the snake, its antlers tossing and rising, shredding the snake’s underbelly, while its rich bugle muted the hisses of the hydra’s heads.
            The hydra recoiled and began to tear apart—and not just where the Patronus’s antlers had touched it, either. The way it became mist and fog, and then less than mist and fog, was seriously impressive. Harry stared with his mouth open, blinking and shaking his head a little as the fog turned into tatters and then streaks against the air, and faded.
            The Patronus charged up and down in the sky for a few seconds, turning around on one heel, and rearing back to stab a bit of darkness that Harry reckoned had escaped from the original hydra. Then it spun and trotted back to Harry. It seemed to shine more than ever as Harry reached out and gently patted its neck.
            “I know I haven’t summoned you much lately,” he told the stag softly. “I wasn’t even sure that I could call a happy memory enough to make you come to me.”
            The stag nuzzled him, feeling like sleek snow, and then stepped back and glanced at Draco. Harry nodded. He thought he had used Draco for his happy memory to call the Patronus, although it had happened so quickly that it was difficult to remember.
            “I’ll be careful,” Harry murmured. “And I’ll make sure that I call you again soon.”
            “You talk to your Patronus, Potter?”
            Draco’s voice, shaky but sounding as normal and clear as though he hadn’t just been almost eaten by a hydra. Harry smiled and looked at him. “If your Patronus was as strong as mine is, then you would talk to it, too.”
            Draco sniffed. He was prying his hands off his broom shaft and shaking them one by one, as though he had lost feeling in his fingers. He probably had, Harry realized with a start. He had forgotten how cold it was, this high. Or else the draw of the hydra and the temptation to fly higher and higher and forget about what was behind him had lured him up here and made him ignore what his body was feeling at the moment.
            “I’ve never managed to cast a Patronus of any kind,” Draco said. “Maybe I would talk to it if I had, yes.”
            He met Harry’s eyes, and Harry swallowed. There was enough darkness in them that he thought he knew what Draco would say next—and he really had no choice but to agree.
            “Shall we go back to earth?” Draco was already swinging his broom around as he spoke, aiming at the ground. “I think we have some things we need to talk about.”
            And Harry nodded and followed, his body braced for the inevitable confrontation, and getting through it with a modicum of grace.
            I owe Draco this much, at least.
*
delia cerrano: It would have been, but Draco didn’t want him to face it yet.
CareLessLover: Thanks! What part about Draco was Slytherin, exactly?
SP777: Would have been, but Draco blocked it.
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Ancient and Noble Houses