Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

[AUTHOR’S NOTE: I TOTALLY LEFT OUT THE LAST TWO LINES OF THE LAST CHAPTER AND THEY ARE IMPORTANT. PLEASE GO BACK AND SEE THOSE BEFORE CONTINUING! SORRY FOR THE MISTAKE!]

A/N: Also, there are numbers next to certain words in this chapter. They were supposed to be in subscript and the explanation for them is in the Author's note at the bottom. Sorry for the confusion and randomness T_T


Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 17—part 29

January 16

Harry came in to my room late last night. I had been lying there for hours it seemed after Granger had finished applying salves and different potions to help slow the bleeding and promote healing, thinking over the words that Petunia Dursley had said and trying to deal with the pain of my injury. I would have felt much more comfortable had it been Harry doing all these things; but on the other hand, it was safer with Granger doing it. She was less likely to mess anything up.

Not that I have such little faith in Harry’s healing skills or anything…

The problem with the potions was that they were incredibly painful. They fought with my body, trying to force it to cooperate when it had no intention of doing so.

Bloody hell, I don’t even know what I’m dealing with half the time when it comes to my own body, it amazes me that she was able to figure out something that might have any kind of effect at all…

I suppose I would be dead by now had it not been for her trying…

Though I don’t think I’ll ever admit that to her directly.

In any case, Harry came in late, didn’t say a word or light the room and simply collapsed gently on the bed next to me, carefully wrapping his arms around me to hold me close. I think he was under the impression that I was already sleeping, but how could I be?

“You’ll be ok, Draco,” he whispered into my neck as he shifted and got comfortable. “Please be ok… I need you to get through this…”

And then he didn’t say another word but I heard his breathing even out as he fell into a deep sleep.

“I will…” I whispered back once I knew he was asleep. And finally, I fell asleep too…

But this morning, I woke up alone. I blinked several times to get the sleep out of my eyes and stared around, searching for Harry or something around me, but there was nothing. The covers on his side were messy and used, and the pillow smelled strongly of him.

I groaned and tried to push myself out of bed. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be…

But the sheets were stained with blood and the bandages around my waist were no longer crisp white, but sodden crimson.

I grimaced at myself and got to my feet, waiting to feel the familiar searing pain but it didn’t come. It didn’t hurt at all. I held a hand to my stomach anyway, though I don’t know why, and went to the bathroom to wash.

Before I redressed after washing, I took my wand and cut the bandages to replace them with new ones. Once the old stained ones fell away, however, I noticed something strange.

There was no longer any sign of a bullet wound on my stomach. My eyes widened and I looked in the mirror, then turned around and looked at my back but there was nothing. Not even a scar where the gash was. NOTHING.

I instinctively poked my fingers at the spot where the wound should have been and let out a soft gasp when I felt no pain at all.

Then I looked back in the mirror, after splashing water on my face to assure myself that this wasn’t a dream, and realized that there was another issue.

The scars from Harry’s Sectumsempra attack were almost completely faded away, though they were red and looked like partially healed scabs for MONTHS.

I couldn’t understand. This was not possible. I don’t heal.

I DON’T HEAL.

Forget healing from a gaping wound like the one I got yesterday in HOURS, I JUST DON’T HEAL!

Then I remembered the cuts on my arm. I wrenched off the bandage that I wear all the time and examined my forearm.

There was no blood, no open wounds… just fully-closed pink scars running around my arm.

Just scars.

I paused for a moment, staring blankly at the mirror in front of me as my brain tried to process the whole idea, before suddenly bolting from the room.

“Potter!!” I screamed, stampeding down the stairs into the kitchen where he sat with Granger, Weasel and Remus (who was sporting fresh wounds from his battles last night).

“Draco, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, getting to his feet. The others looked at me in alarm as I was standing half-naked in front of them, wearing nothing but trousers. I stopped and stood up straight, letting my face become more sneering.

“Does it appear that I’m missing anything, to you?” I asked sharply and sarcastically. He smirked a bit.

“Well usually you do wear a shirt…” he began. I grit my teeth.

“The bullet wound, Potter,” I hissed through my teeth. “It’s GONE.”

Everyone’s attention suddenly dropped to the area just above my waist which was now completely devoid of injury or any form of mark. Remus and Granger looked confused and mildly concerned. Weasel’s face was blank and Harry seemed rather happy about the whole ordeal.

“It is!” he exclaimed, running his fingers over the area in question. I shivered despite myself. “That’s great!” He was beaming.

I was shaking in frustration.

“Yes, Harry,” I said, mildly amused that I was able to maintain just as much sneer in my voice when I called him Harry as when I called him Potter. He seemed to realize this as well and frowned at me. “The POINT is that it should NOT be gone! I DON’T HEAL, remember??”

He huffed softly.

“But what does it matter? You ARE healed, isn’t that a good thing?” he asked sounding rather annoyed.

I twitched from his inability to comprehend the possible importance of something like this.

“Yes, a great thing,” I snapped. “Except that I don’t know HOW I’ve healed. My wounds from years ago have healed and turned into scars or even faded away! This is not supposed to happen! Don’t you remember that I said my father’s use of Soul Magic on me had permanently altered my healing process???”

He seemed perplexed for a moment.

“Well, this just goes to show you how much of a great Healer Hermione is,” he defended with a smile. “She figured out what potion to use to fix you.”

Some innocuous noise was made from behind Harry. Granger cleared her throat and we turned to her.

“Actually,” she said rather quietly. “Those weren’t healing potions I used on him.”

We all stared at her at this point. I blinked several times. NOT healing potions? Then WHAT THE HELL was she PUTTING ON MY SKIN?

“What did you use then?” Harry asked with some kind of discomfort in his voice. She flushed.

“Well,” she began slowly. “I’ve used a mixture of several things. There was a slowing potion to stop the blood flow, along with the most powerful version of a Pepper-Up potion to give him energy… And well…”

“Well WHAT?” I snarled, getting rather anxious. She flushed.

“Well I’ve been doing some research on soul magic,” she admitted. “Going through the Black library… for various reasons… and well I realized that there was no way for me to create a potion on the spot that would heal you… so instead I created a potion to fend off death and lengthen your life as long as possible. All those mixes were versions of cocktails that combined the Draught of Living Death with liquid Adrenaline and even a few drops of a potion that has similar effects to Felix Felicis. They were meant to slow your bleeding to a point where you wouldn’t bleed to death… but certainly not heal you.”

There was a dead silence for a few moments as our unflinching and blank gazes caused her to shrink down slightly. And then I realized what she had done.

She used things like the DRAUGHT OF LIVING DEATH ON ME??

WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT THE EFFECTS MIGHT BE??

“Hermione,” Remus tempted first. “Did you have any idea what the effects of these mixes might be??”

She turned a darker shade of red.

“Yes,” she explained quietly. “I got the idea from one of the books, actually…”

“What book was that?” Remus asked.

“ ‘Illegal Magical Methods of the Twelfth Century’,” she uttered quietly. I was mildly impressed. “But that really isn’t the focus, is it? Those potions were not supposed to be able to HEAL him. But he healed anyway. Now we have to figure out why that is.”

As she highlighted the problem, a moment from last night echoed in my mind.

---“Are you a dragon?”

“Not anymore…”

“Don’t be so sure.”---

“Your aunt,” I said finally, turning back to Harry. He gave me a confused look. “She knows more than she has admitted. I think we need to talk to her now.”

Harry looked as though he was about to say something but nodded instead.

“You might want to get a shirt on, though,” he added cheekily as he left to get Mrs. Dursley. I turned a faint shade of pink before running back upstairs and picking my shirt out of the bathroom before returning downstairs to the sitting room.

Harry and his aunt (along with the others, not counting Dudley Dursley and Fred and George who were still dealing with the after effects of last night) were already there. I took a seat next to Harry on the sofa.

“Aunt Petunia,” Harry began softly. “We need to talk to you about yesterday…”

Her eyes immediately glazed over and her lip quivered.

“I’ve already told you,” she said in barely more than a whisper. “I tried to protect him but they killed Vernon… the old man told me the day would come when… I needed to… but I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want to. Foolish old man.” She trailed off a moment before dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes. “But I did it anyway… I tried to protect my family and now my son hates me… hates me because to him I’m just what we’ve always taught him to hate. I’m just a freak.”

Harry’s face showed clear bewilderment as he opened his mouth several times to try and comprehend what his aunt was telling him. He ran his fingers absently through his messy hair before looking up again.

“You’re a freak?” he asked, finally, unable to come up with anything better. “But Uncle Vernon and Dudley always called ME a freak…”

“And I’m just like you, now, aren’t I?” she spluttered with disdain and displeasure.

“But that would mean that you are a witch,” Harry formulated verbally. “How is that possible?? You never went to Hogwarts…”

And then it hit me as I stared at her and the way her eyes flared at the mention of our school. So that really DOES happen?

“You got a letter, didn’t you?” I asked her calmly. She turned her attention to me again and nodded, her face stony.

“What??” Harry exclaimed. His attention snapped back and forth between me and his aunt for a while. “You got a letter?? To Hogwarts??”

“Yes,” she responded stiffly. “And I promptly rejected it.”

“But you don’t have magic!” Harry continued in pure disbelief.

“I can’t believe this actually happens,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I mean, Father told me stories, but I never believed them. I mean, who would turn down MAGIC?”

“What are you talking about??” Harry snapped. Remus sighed.

“Many students are sent letters of acceptance to Hogwarts, Harry,” he explained. “But some never receive them, some cannot afford to send their children, some blatantly reject magic… there are many reasons, but some students simply choose not to attend. It does not happen often, but it does indeed happen.”

“As a result of their refusal,” I continued explaining the rest. “Their natural magical abilities dissipate to the point where they no longer feel them at all. They become unable to generate the same kind of magical reactions that they did when they were younger. The same applies to wizards, of course, if they stop using magic altogether. I suppose it’s a kind of ‘use it or lose it’ clause.”

“That actually HAPPENS?” Weasel stammered. “I thought it was just an old story parents told to make you appreciate your homework…”

Harry’s mouth hung open as he blinked, trying to take it in.

“Why did you reject the letter?” Harry finally asked his aunt. She stuck up her nose and pursed her lips.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she replied shortly. “Why would I want to be like my sister? She was a freak and look where it got her! Killed! I would have gone MAD at that stupid school, surrounded with people like her. I almost went mad every summer she was home! I didn’t want to be weird anymore! I wanted to be normal and have normal friends!”

“You would have been normal to them!” Harry retorted angrily. “They wouldn’t have judged you like you judge them! They are just like you!”

“Please!” She snorted. “I am nothing like them! Lily was never phased by the problems I had! She never had a problem around me or your bloody father, but I couldn’t stand in the same room with them! When they left my life I thought that I would be rid of that problem forever, but then they got themselves blown up and I was landed with YOU! And again, it came back… right away I could tell you were just like them!”

“What are you talking about?!” Harry yelled back in frustration.

I stared for a few moment, her delusional comments from last night echoing in my head once more. I thought long and hard about everything she was saying before something from one of the books on soul magic that I had read flashed in my mind.

“Can… can you,” I began, unsure of my own wording. “Can you sense magical powers?” Her nostrils flared and she glared at me. The rest turned quickly to me. “I mean… can you feel it if people have magic or not? Tell the difference between wizards and muggles?”

“Not only that!” she sneered in her fury. “But I can feel the differences between their power! It’s absolutely torturous! Every time I saw Lily the feelings I got grew stronger and stronger! And WORSE, the feeling I had around the boy was maddening! How was I supposed to go to a school full of people with all different sorts of powers without driving myself insane?! That senseless old man claimed that my power was a ‘blessing’… a GIFT! HA! It did nothing but make me miserable! And even when I needed it, it couldn’t help me enough to protect my own husband!”

“Old man…” Harry muttered, trying to figure out the reference while taking in everything she was saying. “Dumbledore… THAT’S why Dumbledore placed me with you! You still have some magic and he knew that the blood magic within you would be enough to protect me from Voldemort! Because you share my mother’s bloodline!”

“Yes, he was full of all sorts of nonsense like that,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away.

“Then… what did you mean when you asked me if I was a dragon?” I asked, feeling rather foolish. She sniffed at me.

“Your name, it means Dragon,” she answered curtly. “And I could feel the power emanating from you. The way you carry yourself and spoke to my son… The same kind of power he’s got,” she continued, nodding to Harry. “Except more pure and refined.”

More… pure?

Pure…

But… I’m not a pure-blood. Surely she is sensing blood magic and soul magic… but my ‘power’ should only seem pure… if I were still a pure-blood…

I frowned and the look on my face automatically turned into a distant glare as I thought it all over.

“I think this is enough for today,” Remus remarked, noting the strange expressions on everyone’s faces and the fact that Mrs. Dursley had begun to weep again. “Petunia, please allow me to escort you back to your room.”

She gave him a distrustful look but accepted his hand as he led her out. I took a deep breath and got to my feet, walking back to the kitchen with Harry and the other two, to finally get some breakfast.

Upon arrival, however, we found a large arse waving around in the air as Dudley Dursley was stuffing his face from within a cupboard. I snarled and raised my wand instinctively.

“Oi, pig!” I cried, flinging his body out of the cupboard and holding him in midair before the four of us. “What do you think you’re doing?! This isn’t your house, you worthless sac of feces! You can’t just stuff yourself our food!”

He squealed and I smirked, beginning to turn his ears into hog’s ears… then his nose… add a tail…

He squealed again, sounding more like the animal he was.

“You can’t do magic outside of school!” he squealed pathetically, clutching his ears.

“I’m seventeen, you filthy hog!” I retorted maniacally. “And on second thought, keep stuffing yourself.” I dropped him to the floor and flung some of the food he was eating at his face with my wand. “If you get plump enough maybe we’ll roast you, or cook you in a stew! That’s what you think witches and wizards do, isn’t it?”

He whimpered and covered his mouth, curling into a ball of blubbering rolls. My lip curled and I rolled my eyes in disgust.

“Malfoy,” Granger’s voice came sternly from behind me. “It’s not right… he’s just lost his father.”

“Yeah, leave the great lump be,” Weasel added. Harry said nothing, but his eyes were dark and there was possibly the faintest flicker of a smirk on his features. I groaned and with a wave of my wand, his ears, nose and arse were back to normal.

I approached him and leaned my head close, pressing my wand to the centre of his chest, when I saw the victorious little smirk on his face.

“You might think you’re safe now, you pathetic oaf,” I hissed. “But cross me once and not even Harry can stop me from turning you full into the swine that you are.”

I stood up straight with a smirk and walked out of the kitchen, suddenly without an appetite.

I retreated to my room and only once I was inside did I realize that Harry had followed me. He immediately shut the door and swung me around to pull me into a bruising kiss.

Before I could say anything his hands were on me and pulling me against him as he muttered something softly and the door clicked and a whoosh of air suggested that the room was silenced.

Again he did that…

I pulled away for a moment to get my bearings and ask him what that was all for but he answered before I could get a word out.

“You’ve no idea how hot it is to hear you put Dudley in his place,” he breathed huskily. He licked his lips and smirked. “You used to remind me of him, you know?”

“WHAT?” I cried in disgust. “What exactly is it about my perfect physique and gorgeous hair that reminded you of THAT gelatinous lump?!”

Harry snickered and rolled his eyes, pulling me back towards him.

“Not your appearance, you prat,” he snorted. “The way you acted. He used to bully me terribly… and so did you.” He paused for a moment. “Funny thing is, you always got me so much more riled up than he ever did. When you got here and started helping us, you didn’t bully me and my friends the way you used to… I thought you’d changed more than you thought, but I guess I was wrong. You were just choosing your actions and words more carefully. Always a calculated response with you. Seeing you threaten Dudley like that was only proof of it. I guess you really are a snake.”

There was a rather malevolent smirk on his lips before he kissed me again. He let his tongue drag against my palette before sucking on my lip. When he pulled away, he flicked his tongue to the side of his mouth momentarily.

I was about to open my mouth to say something when he cut me off. But when he spoke, it wasn’t words that escaped his lips.

It was a soft but deep hiss1 that echoed throughout my body and pierced right through my skin, pulling me apart until I was nothing more than a quivering mass of shivers and adrenaline.

I gasped softly and he stepped forwards, running his palms flat over my chest. My shirt dissolved under his touch but his eyes were still trained on mine. I swallowed hard.

“W-what are you saying?” I whispered, feeling the heat flare under my skin everywhere he touched.

Instead of answering, the same deep snake-like sound2 escaped him and he pressed himself against me, his lips within less than an inch of my face. My lips parted and I moved my head forwards to capture his mouth but he jerked his head back and cocked it like a serpent, hissing again3 as if to tell me that I was not allowed to touch.

To test the theory, I brought my hands up to pull him closer but he elbowed them away and finally pushed me down onto the bed. My knees buckled against the footboard and I fell back.

“Harry,” I moaned as he pushed me down and crawled over me with that feral glint in his eyes.

I panted at the sight of him as he ran his palm over his own chest and his shirt disappeared as well. Then he licked his lips and bent down to kiss me. The kiss didn’t last long, however, as he pulled away and began to draw a blazing trail down my neck, chest and stomach with his tongue.

He finally came to my trousers and sat back up a bit, rubbing his hand so softly that it was painful over my groin, making my trousers and boxers dissolve in one swift motion. Then there was nothing stopping his hand from grasping my erection except sheer willpower.

His willpower, of course. Not mine.

He let his fingers hover over my shaft for a while as he taunted me further with his seductive Parseltongue4. The words slipped from his lips like a stream of potent aphrodisiac that sent surges of blood from other important areas of my body down to one specific location.

I groaned and angled my head as I saw him leaning forward over my length. His lips came terribly close to it but he wouldn’t touch me. I moaned louder.

“Harry… you don’t…” I began wondering vaguely to myself exactly what it was that he “didn’t”… but he tilted his head again and let out another stream of magnificently arousing hisses5. The air from his speech ghosted over my throbbing erection and I arched my back from the agonizing lack of actual friction.

He chuckled softly, still sounding much like a snake, and continued to hiss6 over me. Then when he realized that I my breathing was quick and ragged, that I was fisting the blankets beneath me through my frustration, he smirked and opened his mouth, pulling as much of my shaft into his mouth as he could.

I nearly screamed from the intensity of the ecstasy that washed over me as I felt the wet massage his tongue was offering me. The slow and gentle sucking motion did nothing to help my state. I bucked my hips and brought my hands down to his head, burying my fingers in his mop of black hair, urging him onwards.

“Ahh, Harry, yes!” I cried, feeling myself grow closer and closer to my climax. He giggled, or hissed, or something against my length and the vibrations increased the flow of sensations as his fingers came around and began to softly massage my…er…balls.

“Ungh, HARRY!” I yelled as I began to shudder, exploding into his mouth. He pulled his head back just slightly and continued his ministrations until I had finished completely.

My eyes clouded and I breathed out incomprehensible sounds, letting my grasp on his hair weaken slightly so that he could pull away from me.

Harry lifted his head and licked his lips. There was a thin stream of the sticky white fluid dripping from the side of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his wrist before giving me that dark smirk again and leaning over me.

Before he pressed his body against mine, he vanished his own trousers and boxers, allowing our skin to rub flush against one another. I swallowed hard, again, never wanting that image of him between my legs disappear.

“Harry, that was…” I began to babble, but he pressed a finger to my lips and then promptly replaced it with his mouth.

His talented tongue fought with mine for dominance and he finally let my hands roam over his exposed flesh, feeling everything of him that I could. His erection was pressing hard into my groin and stirring excitement there that should not have been possible after such a short time.

Then, he smiled into the kiss and spoke to me again in his wretched language7, forcing gooseflesh to spread on my skin and drive all of my blood back down to my groin. I groaned as the feeling was almost painful after such a short time.

My hand slid down the small of his back and my fingers pressed against his entrance. He let out a moan and snickered darkly against my lips, hissing8 more and more, demanding something from me that I couldn’t understand but had a pretty good guess at.

I summoned the vial that was quickly running low on contents and poured a bit over my fingers, still lying underneath him. I trailed my fingertips down his spinal column, eliciting more delightful whispers from him though I’m sure these weren’t in Parseltongue. Finally, I pushed two fingers past his entrance and probed quickly, stretching him as much as I could from my position.

Harry kissed me ravenously, spreading his legs over me to make my task easier, and grinding his hips into mine. I gasped into his mouth and sucked in only his tongue as I added a third finger.

He broke the kiss and sat up, indicating that he was prepared enough. Then he shimmied down and lifted himself over my erection. He poured some more of the liquid onto it and coated it before he lifted himself over me. Slowly, he placed my shaft at his hole and, with an agonizingly slow pace, impaled himself on me.

“Harry!” I cried out almost immediately as I slid into him from his own actions. My hands grasped roughly onto his hips and I guided him as he rocked back and forth, lifting himself occasionally to increase the force with which I thrust into him.

“Draco!” he moaned. I knew this wasn’t in English, but THAT I COULD understand, even in Parseltongue.

“Yes, Harry,” I rambled, increasing the pace and trying hard not to shut my eyes. He threw his head back in pleasure and the delicate line of his neck was exposed as he rocked. “Fuck.”

He snickered and pushed down harder, taking every bit of me into him as he could. Then with one final thrust, he screamed out through his orgasm and shot his seed all over my stomach. The feel and sight of it was far too much for me and I hit my climax too (for the second time), spilling out into him.

He shuddered and collapsed down onto me so that I could wrap my arms around him and hold him close. Harry nuzzled my neck gently before letting out one final hiss9, a dark smirk drawn on his mouth.

I had a feeling that last comment was not something I would appreciate.

-------IIIIIII-------

A/N: Ok, so that’s kind of random. Not much to say here except, once more, if you see anything that you know for a fact is untrue, please do not point it out :) Let’s all live in the fantasy behehe.

And translations for Harry’s Parseltongue (because I would want them if I were you):
1) Yes, just a snake, aren’t you?
2) You like that, don’t you? Nothing turns you on more than me speaking to you like this…
3) Not this time, little snake… now it’s my turn to have some fun.
4) I bet I could make you come just by talking to you like this…
5) Teasing isn’t so fun when you are on the receiving end, is it?
6) You’re so beautiful… so easy to please… just have to stroke you the right way…
7) Mm, you taste so good… I wonder if I can get you up again just like this…
8) Yes, fuck me… fuck me now.
9) Yes, you are my snake… even if your Patronus is a lion.

Yep, Harry is a little be twisted too, neh?

I enjoyed that. Very thoroughly. I love Parseltongue.

And a few responses:

Sunset20: Ah I have no idea how to answer your questions without giving anything away (not counting those that have been answered in this chapter) I just hope that everything is answered in the chapters to come!

Ryko: Your dreams are AWESOME! I wants more dreams like that! My dreams are INSANE. Absolutely MAD sometimes. I’m working on a layout for a dreamjournal at LJ. I’ll give you the link when it’s done, if you’d like to read my madness hahaha

Thrnbrooke: Petunia and Dudley won’t be in Headquarters for too long, mainly because it’s not safe having them there. They have a purpose to fulfill and then I shall send them off. They aren’t toooo important, but we needed to clarify somethings. Or rather, make them even more confusing hahaha XD

So, the question is now, WHAT is going on with Draco?

You’ll find out soooon! I hope you enjoyed this and the yummy snakey sex!

ALSO, go see the fantastic artwork that ehcie-utada did for me! I hope you don’t mind my advertising it! But it was just too exciting for me not to share! http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/58140524/ GO SEEEEEEE!

Love and cookies for you all! I really want to bake cookies now actually hahaha