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The Only True Lords	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 54573 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this fanfic.

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Chapter Six--Explosions

            Harry stepped out of the infirmary, his hand against his forehead. What Healer Kislik showed him had been extraordinarily complicated, even by her standards, he thought. At least, she hadn't shown much impatience when he had to slow down and ask about some parts again. She had performed the incantations and wand movements until Harry thought he could probably do them in his sleep.

            "Harry! Where were you?"

            Harry started back. Ron and Hermione practically pounced on him as he came around the corner. Hermione's face was pale, and Ron's was red. Harry looked around, automatically assuming that some of the captured Death Eaters must have broken free or something, but the damage he could see to the walls all looked like damage that had been inflicted during the final battle.

            "What do you mean?" he asked, turning back to them. "Were you looking for me?"

            "We knew you had gone to see to Zabini," said Ron, gripping Harry's arm and feeling around it gingerly as though to make sure he was still flesh and blood. "But when we tried to go in, the door was locked, and no one seemed sure where you had gone after that."

            Harry blinked at them in wonder. Then he said, "The Healer was showing me ways I could weaken the bond."

            "The Healer?" Ron darted the blackest scowl Harry had ever seen him wear for someone who wasn't a Slytherin at the door of the hospital wing. "What does she know about it? Healers don't talk about bonds."

            "She said she did," said Hermione, but her face had gained only a little color and she had one hand up in front of her as though she was turning the pages of an invisible book. "She said she worked with the victims of Lordship bonds. But...Harry, what did she do?"

            Harry scratched the back of his head. "Listen, you don't need to worry about me," he said. "She's done this with people in the past. She showed me a few spells that should help me to separate the part of my mind that's influenced by the Lord bond from the rest, and if I don't have the thoughts that urge me to protect them and make them obey me, then the Slytherins should get to be free on their own."

            "Separate parts of your mind?" Hermione's voice was soaring, and Harry flinched. He didn't want Healer Kislik overhearing them and deciding that she hadn't done a good enough job, and he didn't want them waking Zabini up. He herded his friends a few meters away from the door and listened to Hermione. "But you weren't good at Occlumency or Legilimency. Is this the same thing? Could it hurt you?"

            Harry shook his head. "I don't think so." His friends were staring at him, unimpressed, and Harry sighed. "I know. It's unknown. But this kind of bond is unknown, too. It's at least worth trying a few techniques to try and get it weaker, don't you think?"

            He expected Hermione to protest or maybe start lecturing him on the evils of trusting someone he didn't know, and after that, Harry would have retorted that he was trusting Slytherins, and that was worse than strangers. He didn't expect Hermione to march forwards, seize one of his eyelids, and pull it back. Harry stared at her as she stared into his eyes, and then waved his hand at her to get her to let go. Hermione stepped backwards, releasing his eyelid at the same time, and nodded briskly.

            "Do you have any idea how tired you still are?" she asked Harry. "Not to mention that it looks like you're partially in shock. You need to go and rest, not think about Healer techniques or Lordship bonds for right now."

            Harry shook his head. "But Zabini still isn't awake, and he's going to have nerve damage," he muttered. His vision was swimming, all right, and his hand still shook when he thought about the way he had nearly murdered Zabini, but that didn't mean he could just go to bed. What would happen if one of his Slytherins needed him when he was asleep?

            "We'll handle it," Ron said, in his gentle "tower of strength" voice. He'd sounded like that when he talked about coming back and trying to find them on the Horcrux hunt. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it." He gave Harry a little shove. "You've been white as Peeves since you came in from the Forest with Zabini. We would have made you go to bed before this, but we thought you needed to talk with people. People, not Healers."

            "His victims count as people, too."

            Harry knew without turning that the voice belonged to Healer Kislik. He would have turned back and apologized, but Ron pushed him down the corridor, and Harry heard Hermione turning to face Kislik without pausing.

            "Harry said that you had used those techniques to weaken bonds in the past," Hermione's voice was saying, sweet and strong. "Can you give me the names of people they worked on? I thought I could look up their situations in the books in the library and see how similar they are to the bond Harry is in. That might give us even more ideas about getting both him and the Slytherins free."

            "Their cases are both within the last ten years," Kislik said. "Too recent to be in most books."



            "In back files of the Daily Prophet, then," Hermione said, and her voice had deepened to what Harry recognized as a dangerous point. "Their names?"

            Then Harry and Ron got around the corner, and Harry couldn't hear Hermione anymore. He shook his head and glanced at Ron out of one eye. His swimming vision had stabilized a little, but he had decided it was still a good idea to go to bed, if only because people would probably need him later. His Slytherins. People who wanted to arrest his Slytherins and would need him to explain. Ginny.

            "She's scary, mate," Harry said.

            "Of course she is," Ron said, and his voice was smug and pleased and proud. "Especially when she's defending one of her best friends from someone who wants to take advantage of him."

            "Wait? Take advantage?" Harry put a hand to his aching head. The symptoms had come on so suddenly. He wondered if Hermione had managed to suggest them so strongly that he had just started taking them over. "Why would Healer Kislik want to take advantage of me? I don't have anything she wants. Quite the opposite," he added, thinking of the way she had crouched in front of Blaise like an enraged dragon.

            Ron studied Harry with one eyebrow raised. "You really don't understand why?" he asked. "When you're the savior of the wizarding world, the Defeater of Voldemort, an accidental Lord, and someone with more power than he knows what to do with?"

            Harry could feel heat like a blush on his face. He reckoned it might be a fever, though. Stupid Hermione and her sickness-causing words. "Okay, fine. But she seemed to--I don't know, she seemed to hate me. I don't think she would want anything from me."

            "All the more reason for her to try to get something," Ron said, but sighed and shook his head when Harry opened his mouth to argue. "You're also probably sick and delusional. Magical exhaustion, shock, maybe even heatstroke. Let's get you to bed."

            Harry opened his mouth to protest heatstroke, but Ron was already urging him down the corridor, and he went with it. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to let other people handle things for a while.

            It was only when he had tumbled ungracefully into bed that he realized he had once again thought of the Slytherins as his Slytherins.

            Harry grimaced and shut his eyes. He could feel his brain groping towards the instructions that Healer Kislik had given him for separating the parts of his mind into distinct beings, imprisoning the part of him influenced by the bond and starving it into submission.

            But he was too tired to manage it. After a few ineffective pushes against the quicksilver urgings of the bond in his mind, Harry gave in to a different kind of pressure and fell asleep.

*

            God, his arm hurt, and spirals of twisting black and gold paraded across the back of his eyelids. What was going on?

            Groaning, Blaise brought one hand up to his right arm, somewhat surprised to realize that it was still attached. It didn't seem beyond Potter to have cut it off for Blaise's insolence in attacking him.

            But then, how would he assert his claim over me?

            Blaise turned his head. He knew the surface beneath him was too soft to have been the leaves he'd been lying on in the Forest, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was somewhere safe. But the walls had the soft white glare of the hospital wing, so that was all right. And someone sat beside his bed, a shadow too tall to be Potter, which might or might not be good.

            Blaise turned towards it, grimacing as his arm moved. At least he still had it, but it dragged and pulled in odd ways, and he expected the skin to be as shiny and red-rimmed as sleepless eyes when he looked down at it. It wasn't. Blaise winced. It was almost worse that it wasn't.

            "You have magical nerve damage," said the shadow, who bent close enough now for Blaise to make out a female face, and long tumbling waves of hair. "Magic can heal it, but it was a close-run thing."

            "What happened after Potter attacked me?" Blaise asked, ignoring the entirely separate flare of pain in his shield mark for the disrespectful way he had referred to his Lord. If Potter wanted to make a big deal of it, he would have to come back and do so. Blaise wasn't going to give in.

            The woman slowly smiled and leaned back. Blaise wondered how he could have overlooked before that she wore the brilliant lime robes of a Healer, or the serpentine quality of that smile.

            "I am Healer Kislik," she whispered. "And if you are still disposed to struggle for your freedom after Potter inflicted the pain of your bond on you and could not stop it except by forgiving you for your attack, then I will support you."

            Blaise understood, with his mother's voice murmuring in the back of his mind. Sometimes you will find someone who genuinely believes you to be a victim, because of your age or my reputation if nothing else. Such pity is not offensive. It is a weapon. Take advantage of it and use it when you find it, instead of immediately repudiating it by displaying your pride and strength.

            Blaise had never met someone like this before, immediately disposed to be on his side, so he had never had to use his mother's advice before. But now he did, and he widened his eyes and nodded as hard as he could. Let the Healer think him eager and pathetic.

            "Teach me how," he said.

*

            Severus grimaced and leaned further back in his chair, his hand over his right arm. This was becoming a common occurrence of no little inconvenience.

            And this time, he couldn't determine what the bond wanted. There were the sharp spikes of dark pain he had felt when he thought about being disloyal to Potter, but this time, he hadn't. He hadn't even been thinking about Potter for the last three minutes, blessedly, as he worked on a stronger version of a Calming Draught for Mr. Goyle.

            And there was a tug that made Severus stand up and cross to the door of his office, expecting to find Potter on the other side.

            He wasn't, but when Severus opened his door to reveal the staircase beyond, the pull was suddenly much clearer and stronger, like a sound that wasn't muffled by stone anymore. Severus ground his teeth as he began to walk towards the stairs. What had Potter possibly got himself into between the time he'd talked to Severus and now, not even an hour later?

            Because he really had no choice, and it was better and more dignified than fighting, Severus let himself follow the pull. It took him up the staircase, out of the dungeons altogether, up to the entrance hall. He glanced around, and saw no one in particular watching him. There was a clump of Aurors off to the side, but they didn't glance at him, so involved in a heated conversation that Severus slipped past them easily and up the next staircase.

            The one that aimed at the hospital wing, Severus thought, rolling his eyes. Of course Potter had done something to himself in the time between when he and Severus talked and now. Because that was the way he ran his world.

            It would be the way he ran Severus's world, too, if Severus didn't watch out.

            Severus shook his head and made his way to the door of the hospital wing. He could hear voices inside as he got close, but that wasn't unusual. There would be victims from the Final Battle here, now. He was only surprised that he heard two voices, instead of the maudlin gathering of sobbing and wailing that he would have expected to afflict his ears.

            He put his hand out and flicked the door open. Why not? There was no need to hide that he was coming from Potter, who had probably already felt him.

            But when he stepped into the hospital wing, no Potter was there. Severus blinked and glanced at the nearest bed, the one that held the voices. Well, one voice. Young Mr. Zabini stopped and blinked at him, staring as though Severus had come back from the dead just now instead of yesterday.

            Opposite him sat a Healer who came to her feet with a smooth grace. Severus stared at her. The lime-green robes didn't fool him. She probably really was the Healer she said she was now--it would be stupid to lie about that, with other Healers around and the lie so easily exposed--but she had been trained as a duelist sometime in the past.

            The Healer bowed to Severus and moved a little to the side. Shielding Zabini, Severus thought. He would have to curse over her shoulder to reach him.

            But she must know that I am the Head of Slytherin House, and have no reason to hurt one of my Slytherins...

            Then Severus's arm burned again, and he grimaced. He wasn't here to protect Zabini at all, was he? Or Potter. Except indirectly.

            Yes, accidental Lord bonds could position someone this way. The evidence that they could was extremely limited and sometimes contradictory, but Severus had read enough of the evidence to see the pattern behind it. That did not mean that he welcomed the role the bond was trying to set him up for, or that he would rejoice in what it would mean once he was past this first confrontation.

            But the Healer's eyes were darkening on him, and she was gripping her wand, and someone trained as both a Healer and a duelist was not an opponent to underestimate. Severus yanked his attention back to the moment and spoke over her shoulder to Zabini, whose face he could still just see. "If you are wise, Mr. Zabini, you will cease your rebellion against Lord Har--Lord Potter this instant."

            Severus would have rolled his eyes at his slip if he was alone. Both versions of that title sounded utterly ridiculous, and he didn't care how much his mark burned, but he would have expected better of himself than to yield to the temptation to use the first one.

            "Why should he not be rebellious?" the Healer demanded, stepping forwards. "When his freedom and future have been stolen from him, and he might have a chance at getting them back if he fights?"

            Severus studied her a moment. "Hufflepuff?" he asked. A Gryffindor might have uttered much the same sentiments, but a Gryffindor also would have known better than to expect a Slytherin to pay attention to them.

            The Healer's wand swung around to focus on him. Severus didn't roll his eyes this time, either, but the test of his self-control was more severe. "What right do you have to question me?" whispered the woman.

            "I only wanted to know your House," Severus said blandly, watching Zabini's face. He might be renowned for his expressionlessness among people his own age, but Severus could read the emotions dancing in his face as well as he could read lightning in the skies. Perhaps the bond was helping in that respect. "I hardly think asking it is an insult."

            "You made it into one."

            Severus nodded a little. "Hufflepuff," he said, and once again focused on Zabini. He might or might be able to do something with the Healer, although if she attacked him, she would find out that someone who had not been trained by a master could still be deadly in a duel. "Mr. Zabini. You should remember that our future legal and social standing depends entirely on our Lord's say-so. You might or might not care more about them than your own, physical life. I do not know. But you have been punished once, and you will be punished again, if you insist on rebelling further."

            Zabini opened his mouth, but the Healer sprang in before he could speak. Severus smiled slightly. Let her think it was in contempt of her words. He had smiled because he had seen the way Zabini's throat bobbed as he glared at the Healer's back. Protection or not, he didn't appreciate the way she had interrupted him when he wanted to make his own point.

            "He did nothing that deserved punishment," the Healer said, and her eyes glittered with spirit that Severus could have admired if she was spending it in a different cause. "He defended his life, his freedom. How is that worthy of punishment?"

            "What spell did you use on our Lord?" Severus asked Zabini this time. If the bond was going to insist on Severus addressing the boy with terms of respect, then better the generic reference than either of the stupid titles.

            The Healer turned around, a sign that she didn't know, either. Severus could see more of Zabini's face now, but he wasn't sure that he considered that an advantage, as Zabini's hands played with the sheets on his hospital bed for a second before he said, "The Stopping Charm."

            The Healer glared at Severus. Severus ignored her, and asked quietly, "Applied where?"

            Zabini hesitated one more time, then touched his right arm as if the phantom pain of his nerve damage still lingered and said, "To the valves of his heart."

            Severus closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. There was so much he wanted to say, and he had a hard time choosing. As it was, he heard the Healer drawing in her breath to talk again and said the first thing that balanced on the edge of his tongue. "The bond was trying to kill you when it reacted, do you understand that? And it was the bond that reacted, not him. It ended only because he forgave you, because he was concerned about your life." Severus opened his eyes and added, with a part of him that was probably influenced by the bond but much more by his own disdain for stupidity, "Though I am not certain why."

            "Every human life--" the Healer began with another of her trivial commonplaces.

            Severus paid her no mind, never removing his eyes from Zabni as he moved another step closer. "Lordship bonds slaughter the vassals that try and kill their Lords," he told Zabini. "It's the ultimate violation of the rules, the ultimate treachery. Working against their interests earns much milder punishment, especially because the vassal doesn't always know what is in their Lord's best interests without explicit orders. But trying to kill them? The bond only has one way to interpret that, and that's in violation of its promises."

            "I didn't want to make a promise to him!" Zabini snapped, both arms folded to hide the mark now. "No one asked me if I did!"

            Severus choked on his own rage. The Healer was looking back and forth between them as though trying to decide who was victimizing whom, and it was easy to move past her altogether and stand there looking down on Zabini. Zabini scrambled away until his back was touching the pillow at the head of the bed, and acted as though he was trying to shut down his breathing.

            Severus pulled his lips back from his teeth. Zabini whimpered and cowered promptly. Severus rolled his eyes freely this time. And the boy was his bondmate? Severus had not expected great things from Gregory Goyle, who was suffering from trauma as well as his inherent dimness, or from Draco, who would have a most profound fit of the sullens at becoming part of something other than his family--at least until he figured out that Potter was taking the protective place that his parents had once held. But he had dared to hope that Parkinson and Zabini might not be much trouble, an impression only increased by Parkinson's unexpected demonstration of intelligence earlier today.

            Now...

            "You think you have been treated unfairly, Mr. Zabini?" he whispered, and shook both sleeves back, lifting his arms to bare the silver shield of Potter's bond and the twining, ugly serpent of the Dark Mark. Zabini tried to look at one and then the other, and ended up shutting his eyes. Severus sneered, only a little sorrowful that there was no one there to appreciate it but the Healer. "Try being Marked twice. Try laboring under multiple Unbreakable Vows and killing the one man who might have been able to provide some kind of escape. Try serving that man and knowing that even the death of the Dark Lord would not free you from this service, because some submissions to leadership last beyond one's life. Try surviving, unexpectedly, and being required to submit to yet another bonding, yet another claiming, yet another lifetime of service." He heard the Healer saying something about him not being required to submit, but Severus didn't bother to glance at her, boring with all his strength into Zabini's stubborn head. "And then try to have the bond manipulating you into the Lord's Shield."

            Zabini lifted his right arm and blinked at it.

            Severus shook his head. "Some Lordship bonds, especially those to a limited number of vassals, work by manipulating the subordinates into certain positions relative to the Lord," he said. His voice made Zabini look at him, and although he whimpered, he did not close his eyes again. "The Lord's Shield is one of those. Basically, I am in charge of making sure that the rest of my fellow idiots don't do something that would cause harm to their Lord when the Lord isn't present to deal with it himself. It seems that what distresses our Lord the most is having to discipline his vassals. There is no other reason that I would feel, not his pain and desire for aid, but your own misguided attempt to rebel once more. I will tell you this: Do not tempt my wand. If you think the pain that the bond inflicts is bad, then you do not want to taste mine. Because I may not have as deep a connection to you as Lord Potter does, but my magic will not stop."

            He held Zabini's eyes for some seconds more, until Zabini bowed his head. Not submitting to Potter, Severus was certain of that. But submission to fear of Severus would certainly do for now.

            He turned and stalked out of the hospital wing, ignoring the Healer's attempt to corner him. Whether she was going to accuse him of evil complicity in the bond or of being a victim who just needed counseling, he didn't care.

            Severus paused in the corridor outside the infirmary and waited. There was no tugging on the bond now, but rather a soft, gentle pulsing in the back of his mind. Wherever he was, Potter was smiling, a trouble that he hadn't exactly sensed leaving him.

            Severus rolled his eyes one more time as he turned back to the dungeons, and ignored the certainty, not coming from the bond but from his own understanding of things, that Potter would have preferred him to handle Zabini in a different way. He might have to be his Lord's Shield, but he would make the shield out of Dark magic and bad temper, not bleating Gryffindor mercy.

*

            Sasunarufan13: Thanks! As you can see, you're not the only one who doesn't like the Healer.

            delia cerrano: Draco is more worried about how the life-debts will complicate the Lord-bond.

            SP777: They're trying. Remember, this is only the day after the bond was formed. It's gotten a lot of detail because so much has happened, but it's not really that much time. They're still adjusting.
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The Only True Lords