Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 17—part 31

January 31 –continued

We were sitting there in that unusual library for long moments that contained little pieces of eternity in them in silence… Neither of us seemed to want to say anything or acknowledge the possible meanings of that kind of revelation.

Well at least I was trying to deny the obvious. Harry was just trying to SEE the obvious, which was made clear by his comment.

“What –what does that mean?” he demanded frantically. “What does that mean?!”

My eyes roved over his lips as they parted and betrayed his concern. His brows were drawn in a manner that suggested guilt… so much guilt. I sighed and wished that I could assuage that guilt, but with the explanation I had to give… I’m afraid it only made it worse.

“It means that those of direct Malfoy descent,” I began slowly, trying to chose my words. “have an inherent sensitivity to the use of Parseltongue. We have a natural reaction to it… Malfoys give in easily under its power.”

Harry looked as though he had been hit in the face with a bludger. The colour drained from him and he began shaking and breathing more quickly. I recognized this look very briefly. It was a reaction similar to the one I’d seen momentarily on his face when he realized that he might have killed me that day in the bathroom… when he used Sectumsempra.

“You… give in…” he whispered, the images he was seeing in his mind flashing clearly in the look in his eyes. “I… I couldn’t have… You didn’t want…? I… Draco…”

“Harry, no,” I whispered, grasping his shoulders and shaking my head. “No, it’s not true. You didn’t.”

“But I could have!” he cried, shaking more violently and screwing up his eyes. “You would never know if I had taken advantage of you, you were weak to it! I could have…” he looked as though he was gagging on his own words. “Oh god… I could have r-ra…”

NO. HE WAS NOT GOING TO SAY IT. THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL THAT I WOULD BEAR THE IDEA THAT HARRY THOUGHT HE HAD DONE THAT TO ME. NOT EVEN FOR A MOMENT. IT IS NOT POSSIBLE!

“Listen to me, Harry,” I ordered with a warning. I gave him a hard look but held him close to me. “There is no way in hell that you could have raped me because no matter what happens, no matter what the situation is and whatever state my mind is in I will ALWAYS give consent. I will ALWAYS want you! You are NOT THEODORE NOTT!”

Harry’s face contorted in something between anger and grief… perhaps a bit of both. His green eyes were glassy and threatened to burn me alive with the intensity of his emotions.

“But how can you know this for sure?!” he asked, helpless and frightened of himself. “How can you be sure? You could just be under the influence of my Parseltongue!”

I had had enough.

“You idiot,” I cried back in anger. “I know this because I love you! LOVE, damn you! You Gryffindors are supposed to KNOW what that implies, aren’t you?! I LOVE YOU!”

His shuddering slowed and stopped and he seemed to calm down a bit as I held him closely to me and scolded him for not being more aware of things I might never have said.

“You love me…you love me…” he whispered like a chant into my shoulder, softly nodding his head. I was holding him so tightly, shutting my eyes to block out any other thought for that moment. I paid no mind to the goblin still stationed at the door, who shifted fitfully on the spot fighting the urge to turn and take a look at what was going on out of sheer sense of duty and professionalism.

“Yes, you prat,” I whispered back, relaxing my grip again. “Don’t you ever think something so bloody stupid ever again or I will not refrain from hexing you into next week.” I let myself smirk a bit as I felt him heave a small chuckle into my shoulder. “And besides, you are completely missing the more telling fact.”

Harry pulled away at this moment and looked at me in the face again. He had calmed down considerably though the glint of fear still sparkled in his eyes every so often.

“What ‘more telling fact’?” he asked. I glanced back at the open books around me.

“What this says about my father,” I whispered. “I’ve always wondered how he could be such a hypocrite. He went on and on about how muggle-borns and half-bloods were tainted and worthless… said that only pure-bloods should be allowed to study and practice magic… but then he went off and professed his undying allegiance to a psychotic half-blood and got himself killed for it. Does that not seem odd to you? Lucius Malfoy, king of all narcissistic bigots, swore on bended knee to a half-blood?”

“But Voldemort stood for everything your father was after, didn’t he?” Harry remarked, frowning. “He was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin and he wanted nothing more than to rid the wizarding world of muggle-borns… those unfit to study magic.”

“Yes, but he was still a half-blood,” I told him. “To my father, Voldemort’s stand for pure-bloods would have been almost as absurd as if Granger came out and said that books are unnecessary and learning should be abolished, do you see what I’m saying. It looks out of character and irrational to him, I’m sure.”

“So then why did he join him?” Harry asked before he could stop himself. I didn’t answer but let him put the two and two together. His face lit up. “You mean, Voldemort might have used Parseltongue to coerce your father into following him?”

“He’s used much more drastic measures than that to get wizards on his side,” I mused. “Whether Voldemort knew about this weakness at the time or not, he might still have used it. Though who knows, my father could have simply been mad, but at least this brings new light to some things.”

“Yes,” Harry admitted. “For instance, the fact that you need to be more careful.”

I blinked. What?

“Excuse me?”

“You need to be more careful,” he repeated as though this would clear things up. “If you are easily controlled by Parseltongue then we might need to find a way around that. Voldemort could easily use it against you if you were to face him. Maybe we’ll invest in earplugs.”

I stared. Was he serious?

“We should look into some of the other books too,” Harry continued without noticing my reaction. He glanced around the room. “Hermione is a muggle-born so she’s safe from all this bloodline magic… But we can look into the Weasley’s line, the Black line and the Slytherin line… not to mention whatever it might say on my family…”

“What about Remus?” I asked, coming back to myself. I’ll have to talk to him about the earplug idea later. “He is a half-blood.”

“The Lupin bloodline?” Harry suggested, unsure.

“No, Lupin isn’t a pure-blood name,” I said shaking my head. “We’ll have to come back for him…”

So we looked through the other books taking notes on every possible weakness and strength that related to specific families… there were some interesting things to mark, to say the least.

The Potters (directly descended from Gryffindor) were apparently magnificent with Transfiguration… many of their ancestors were Animagi. This trait also tended to give them a long lifespan and make them resistant to most magical creature attacks, as well as Werewolf and Vampire attacks. Their weaknesses were mainly in their eyes. The Potters were known to have flawed eyesight, varying from slightly blurred vision to near-blindness. They were also weak to dark forms of soul magic as well as extended torture.

The Slytherin line had an inherently strong resilience to venoms and poisons, likely having some relation to their Parseltongue abilities. They were also great with dark magic but, due to many reasons, tended to have short lifespans, were weak to physical attacks and positively powered magic (things like the Patronus charm which is pure happiness, or love magic, which is ancient and more powerful than most dark magic).

Fancy that.

The Weasleys (which I took careful note of in case I ever needed something to use against the She-Weasel) have naturally long lifespans (some of the longest in the wizarding world) and a resilience to half-breed attacks (such as Werewolves, Vampires and Centaurs) but were weak to magical creature attacks as well as memory charms and control spells.

The Blacks were some of the strangest to read… the most remarkable of their weaknesses were their incredibly short lifespans (arguably the shortest lifespans out of all pure-blooded families in the wizarding world), their weakness to the allure of power and the fact that they were prone to madness of some kind… There were few strengths attributed to their bloodline. They were very skilled in torture magic. There was also a recurrence of Metamorphmagi in their lineage, though there were still very few… just more than the average wizarding family… if you go far enough back.

We looked through the books for a long while before the goblin drew our attention back to him by clearing his throat. Apparently, we had overstayed our welcome. I nodded to him and replaced everything on the shelves in the right order.

Harry and I left that room, sealing the vault with blood proofs once more, then returned to the atrium where we found a very disgruntled Granger and a rather bored looking Weasel.

Neither of us said a word to them as we exited the grand white building to Apparate back to Number Twelve. They didn’t press us right there, but as soon as we were safely back within the walls of the Order Headquarters, we were both ambushed by a bushy-haired girl with a thirst for knowledge.

“Tell me everything you found out!” she ordered us both immediately. Harry fell back onto the sofa at the imposing power of her advances, but I stood my ground and gave her a bored look.

“Manners, manners, Granger,” I drawled, calmly taking a seat next to Harry who was still sprawled over the cushions. She huffed and turned around to take a seat across from me. Weasel groaned at the idea of having to sit still for any more time but followed her nonetheless to the other sofa.

So then we recounted everything that we had discovered in that wretched vault. Every last detail that we knew. We told Weasel about his family’s weaknesses and informed them of the others we were aware of as well. I carefully left out the bit about Malfoys having a weakness to love potions as I did not think it was at all important.

And I would never, EVER live it down. Not to Weasel.

Once we were finished, Granger seemed to have a pleasantly thoughtful expression on her face as she held her finger to her lips in mulling over all the information she had just been offered. Weasel’s face was bored and blank and completely devoid of much interest. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t been fed in hours.

We need to take better care of our pets, apparently.

“Well, at least now we have something to work with,” Granger stated wisely. “In our fight against the Death-Eaters we will know a little better how to protect ourselves and how to attack them so that it hurts. We can always go back to the vault and get more information on those that we haven’t yet looked into.”

I was rather amused at her use of the words “our” and “we”, as though she had been completely present in that vault, doing the research with us and looking through the old dusty tomes… and not sitting in the lobby with Weasel, trying not to explode from lack of reading at her disposal.

“Yes, now we know all about our weaknesses and theirs,” I agreed. “It’s just a matter of figuring out how to use that to our advantage.”

*******

February 1

Harry and I went to sleep late that night after our hours of discussion with Granger and Weasel. We waited for someone from the Order to return but no one did. We supposed that they were all still out there fighting the war that never really started and would never really end. Harry was uneasy about the fact that he was not among them, fighting in all these battles on the way. I reminded him that he would get his chance to fight and that would be the most important battle of them all… at least in this war against ourselves.

We slept rather fitfully… I had visions of my father giving in to a snake-like voice, commanding him to kill me and then take his own life. Images of my mother’s face as she realized that her sister had betrayed her and was going to take her life… images of Bellatrix as she descended even further into her own madness and dragging the whole world down with her… and finally and image of Voldemort, that day that I met him just before sixth year… images and sensations as he pressed his wand into my wounds and screamed out ‘crucio’!

I snapped awake and realized that I was clutching my own arm from around Harry. His eyes were open and wide as he stared at me in wonder. I was practically crushing him to my chest.

“Sorry,” I whispered, letting him go. He didn’t move away from me, but instead seized the opportunity to enfold me in his arms and press a soft kiss to my lips.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, right against my mouth. “I know that kind of nightmare.”

He kissed me again and I reciprocated more fully, pressing my hands flat against his back and holding him to me so that the soft skin on his chest pressed right up against mine. I could feel the little bumps raise on his skin as my fingers drew intricate lines down his spine and he held me tighter.

He moaned softly into the embrace and our legs managed to entwine underneath the covers, turning us into a mass of locked limbs. I chuckled softly against his lips and opened my eyes. He was already staring at me and I took a moment to notice all the different shades of green that were held captive in his irises.

“We should get up,” I whispered, adjusting my hold in contradiction to my own comment.

“Should,” he replied, mimicking my movement. “But what I want is to stay here with you.”

“Can’t always have what you want, Chosen One,” I whispered with a smirk. “For instance, I desperately want to take you right now… to shag you senseless until you can’t feel anything at all anymore… can’t think, can’t even breathe properly. I want you to come so hard that the entire world shatters as you scream my name… so hard that you begin to believe you can’t even live anymore without me inside you…” Harry’s eyes turned that dark, matte shade of green again. His lips parted softly and I ghosted my mouth against his without actually touching it. I pulled one of his legs over my waist and pushed up against him to make it more clear. “Want you to need me so bad that it hurts… want to push so deep into you that you can’t tell that we’re two separate people… I want to make love to you, Harry…” His lips parted wantonly as he tried to catch my mouth but I pulled back and smirked. “But you can’t always get what you want.”

I tried to get out of bed but he caught my arm and pulled me back against him with a strength that I didn’t even know he had. He spun me and our lips met immediately. His hands roved directly down to my erection and began pumping it roughly. I made some kind of hint of protest but thought better of it and started kissing him back, hard.

My hands found their way down to his shaft as well, giving him the same treatment that he was giving me. God, his hands felt so good on me…

I moaned and arched my hips into his hand to increase the pace, all the while massaging his length with every trick that I knew (and some that I’d never used before). The kiss became more urgent and hungry as we sped up, trying to reach completion while never wanting it to end.

“Draco… yes, like that,” he moaned breathily to me as I twisted my wrist around the head. He tried to imitate me.

He should do that more often.

“Ahh, Harry… mmm, faster,” I whispered back, wanting nothing more than him at that moment.

Finally, we brought each other to our climaxes, spilling out over one another and taking a few moments to breathe and relax a bit. I calmed my breathing down and picked up my wand to do cleaning charms on us. He watched me with half-lidded eyes for a few moments with a silly grin.

“I did get what I want,” he whispered, finally pushing himself out of bed. I shook my head, feeling, somehow, as though I’d lost our little game.

We got dressed in silence, giving each other mischievous little side-long glances before leaving for breakfast together… hand in hand.

I would never have thought that those little romantic gestures… the kind that make you want to vomit when you see them in plain sight in the hallway, would ever afflict me the way they did other couples… but they did.

I felt a welcome sort of warmth in me when Harry took my hand or brushed his lips across my cheek. I would always feel… wanted.

Even the most cold-hearted Slytherin couldn’t argue with that.

We arrived in the kitchen, with goofy grins on our faces, only to find a frantic bunch of Order members and a frazzled looking Granger and Weasel. We both stopped dead and let go of each other’s hand.

“Harry! Draco!” Remus exclaimed as he noticed us. “Haven’t you heard the news?”

“What news?” Harry asked immediately, stepping forward to the werewolf. “What happened?”

By the looks on their faces, nothing good. Remus passed me a copy of the Daily Prophet as Harry had taken the one that Tonks had been holding.

On the front cover were two large stories. One, the headliner, read as follows:

----SEVEN MINISTRY OFFICIALS MISSING

Seven Ministry of Magic officials were filed as missing persons yesterday, just before nightfall. Three of these officials were rumoured to be Unspeakables, working in the Department of Mysteries doing top secret research. The other four were officials from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Aurors Sector, respectively.


There is no specific knowledge as to their whereabouts but it is suspected that these Ministry members were kidnapped by Death-Eaters under the orders of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. No Dark Marks were reported to have been sighted in relation to these disappearances, though the Ministry is still searching for possible leads.

Any witch or wizard with information is asked to report to the Ministry as soon as possible. ------

The article didn’t end there, but it was at that moment that Harry and I looked up and realized that Shacklebolt was not in the room.

“Where is Kingsley?” Harry asked tentatively, almost afraid of the answer. Remus gave Tonks a sorrowful look before looking back at Harry. He didn’t say a word. It wasn’t necessary. “Oh no… they… they’ve kidnapped Shacklebolt?! WHO? Do we know anything?!”

Tonks shook her head.

“We don’t have any information.” She sounded broken. “Moody is out there still, looking for him, along with Arthur and Molly. Minerva and Aberforth are searching as well, but there is no sign of him yet. We know when he disappeared, but we have no idea how or who took him.”

“We all broke up during one of the more violent duels in London,” Remus explained. “Once I returned to normal, I left the werewolves and went back to find them. Everyone was everywhere and you couldn’t see past the end of your nose, the air was so thick with curses.” He sat down and some grey hair fell over his eyes. “We had arranged a meeting place for midnight last night… everyone showed up but him. There has been no sign of him.”

“We have to find him!” Harry exclaimed right away. “We can’t just sit around here and let our members get abducted! Plus he knows about the Horcruxes!! We have to get him back!”

“Harry, please,” Remus tempted to calm him. His face was strained and the tension on the air was thick and unpleasant. Everyone was on edge and Harry’s frustration was enough to send anyone overboard. “You need to calm down. We are doing everything we can. We understand the crucial nature of the matter, but you cannot go bursting out of here without caution.”

“Why not?!” Harry snapped angrily. “I’ve been cooped up in here for ages, staying away from the fighting except when it was absolutely necessary and I’ve had to watch and hear of more and more people that are close to me, that are important to me, be swept away or killed or tortured. All this happening while I can do something to stop it, but choose not to! I won’t stand by any longer! Why should I?!”

Remus’ face was calm and held hidden frustration that he knew better than to add to the mix of rampant emotions.

“Because that was not everything that was reported in the Prophet today,” he replied carefully.

My attention flew back to the paper in my hands. Harry’s did as well but he simple rescanned the first article.

“What else? Has anyone else we know been kidnapped??” he demanded dangerously.

“That’s not what he means,” I whispered, my eyes frozen on the words that Remus must have been referring to. “Look at the second headline.”

-----DRACO MALFOY SIGHTED

Draco Malfoy, 17, son of known Death-Eater and Azkaban Prisoner Lucius Malfoy, was sighted yesterday in the late afternoon. He was reported to have been weaving through the crowd of refugees inside Gringott’s Wizard Bank, which has recently been converted into a stronghold for families without a home or any kind of protection from the war.

Mr. Malfoy is suspected of being a Death-Eater and known to have been associated to the murder of Albus Dumbledore, former Headmaster of Hogwarts, Order of Merlin First Class, during the spring last year.

No word yet on his current whereabouts or allegiances, nor are there speculations as to reasons why he might have been present at Gringott’s. If sighted, you are advised to contact a Ministry wizard as soon as possible and to keep away. Mr. Malfoy is considered wanted, armed and very dangerous. ------

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

A/N: Ooh Draco slipped up! Craziness with all the things going on, neh? I threw in a bit of smutty goodness for you, because things will get harder and harder as we go, but I hope you liked this!

I would just like to say that I’m sorry, but Draco isn’t royal. Well, if you’d like to look at him as being a Prince, it does make sense, but he is not going to be a king of any kind simply because the wizarding world no longer has a monarchy and won’t be reinstating one any time soon. Though, I do admit, seeing him as royalty is a pleasant thought.

Harry can be his slave, bahaha.

The weakness to Parseltongue is both a good one and a bad one… as you’ll find out soon enough… just like everything really.

And sadly, no, Luna and Neville will not be together. As J.K.Rowling said she didn’t think it would happen simply because Neville is rather frightened of Luna. Though I love them both dearly. Such interesting little characters, those two.

And Ginny will come around… sorta. I guess. Kinda. Maybe. Hahaha sorry.

As for Bellatrix, can you tell I really hate her? Hahaha yeah. I do. Ah well.

Anddddd…. Er yeah.

Poor Stan Shunpike. Didn’t know what hit him. Ah well. He’ll be cleared eventually.

Oh and claire2007: I’m sorry to hear that you were in the hospital, I hope everything is alright! I’m glad you enjoyed the chapters and I hope you have a relaxing recovery time!

Thanks for all the lovely reviews!

OH YES, and I need to share this. Today I had a terribly frightening ‘freak-out’ moment when (being the bloody idiot that I am) I completely misread the calendar and somehow thought that there were only two weeks left before the book comes out. Naturally, there are four weeks (or so) and I will hopefully have enough time to finish this monster of a fic. It’s soooooooo bloody long, it’s crazy!

Anyway, thanks for sticking through it with me! Love and cookies and cake and wine hahahah to you all!!