Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 66
- 67
- 68
Discussions
Draco sat sideways in the window seat, the shimmering green light from the lake illuminating half of his face. One leg was planted on the ground, the other was bent in toward his lap. Harry sat with his back to the window, close to Draco, eyes closed and mentally floating. Draco lifted his hand and pressed a single finger into Harry’s mouth, and he realized his hand was trembling faintly.
“I want my touch to heal you,” he whispered, staring unblinking at the side of his boy’s relaxed face.
Harry hummed in response.
Without adrenaline coursing through is veins, Draco felt reaction set in. His very first class had been a disaster. So much was riding on things going right. Draco needed supporters, needed to gather an army that would surround and protect Harry. He needed to get stronger, smarter… He hadn’t anticipated such hostility from Snape. Was it because he’d refused Slytherin?
Draco blinked slowly and pulled his wet finger from Harry’s mouth. It tingled with the charge of his boy’s warm magic and he gently stroked one of Harry’s bruised nipples. Harry sighed softly, eyes still closed, completely limp and trusting.
Draco hadn’t realized how much stress they’d been under. Moving to a new place, the uncertainty of the Sorting, sharing a room and feeling Neville’s presence close by even while they were sleeping, and then the disaster of their first class… It had been a lot to handle. Almost too much. He’d been rougher with Harry than he liked, fueled by adrenaline and rattled by all the stress…
Draco caressed Harry’s chest until red and purple faded into pale pink and the swelling disappeared. “What would you have done?” he asked barely over a whisper.
Green eyes cracked open. Harry felt like a warm haze had wrapped him up in layers of fluff, but Draco was asking him something. It took him a long minute to understand what he wanted, but he finally answered, “Asked where I should go.”
Draco said nothing. He dropped his hand to rest on Harry’s bare stomach and leaned his head against the cold glass, tired and frustrated.
Snape had obviously known there were no more spots, that there were an odd number of students. What purpose would it have served to ask about a seat that wasn’t there? Of course, looking back with a clear head, Draco realized Snape’s purpose had been to make him submit by making Draco beg for a place. Any other student would have done the same as Harry, but Draco was broken. His instinctual reaction had been to push back harder than he was being pushed. And things had exploded.
Soft fingers stroked his cheek and he opened his eyes to see Harry staring at him - love contentment trust. Harry smiled and feathered his fingers over Draco’s lips in a caress. Draco, throat tight, pulled Harry more firmly into his lap. He held him close and let his mind drift.
They stayed in the lake-view room for nearly an hour, curled up together in the window seat like kittens, murmuring in soft voices love and comfort until it was time to rejoin the world. They made a quick trip to their dorm room to gather their Charms textbooks, splash water on their faces, and get fresh shirts and ties.
As they dressed, Harry brushed his fingers over the crescent scabs from Draco’s nails on the outer edge of his butt cheeks. Draco had tried to heal them, but he had sensed Harry’s sadness and had stopped. Harry hated going against what Draco wanted, but he couldn’t help how much he liked the marks. They made him feel strong, loved. They reminded him on a very real level what Draco was capable of.
It was a huge comfort to know that all of that force was being directed at keeping them safe and happy. With Draco taking the lead, things would work out. They’d be okay. Feeling the dull throb and sting of the marks that Draco had left on his body and the collar snug to his throat… They let him breathe easy, helped keep Harry’s constant anxiety at bay.
Freshly dressed and feeling stronger, Harry looked deep into Draco’s eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered with full-hearted sincerity.
Draco smiled that soft smile only Harry ever saw and gently kissed Harry’s lips. “Come on. We have Charms next.”
Using Harry’s map, they made it to the classroom in fifteen minutes and were the first to arrive.
“Good morning, boys,” a small, high voice said from the front of the room.
“Good morning, Professor,” Draco and Harry answered back simultaneously, surprised by their professor’s appearance.
The man was small. Barely over three feet, he was standing on what looked like a pile of thick, hardback books to see over his desk. A shock of white hair surrounded his head and face. He wore sky blue robes and a matching pointed hat with its tip folding over. His smile was kind.
“Welcome to my class. I’m Professor Flitwick. Please, sit anywhere you feel comfortable. I’m surprised you made it so quickly, considering you came from the dungeons.” He gave them a playfully stern look. “You don’t already know the whereabouts of secret passages, do you?”
Draco shook his head with a smile. “No, sir. We were dismissed early from Potions.”
“I see.” A worried look came over his face.
“We won’t cause any trouble,” Harry assured him, thinking the professor was afraid they were troublemakers.
“Unless you start it first,” Draco muttered almost too low to hear. He was still unhappy about Potions. He couldn’t understand why Snape had been so vicious, but Draco wouldn’t be pushed around by anyone, so he had pushed back. Of course, he still had the problem of pushing back harder than necessary, but Snape of all people knew that.
“Oh, dear,” Flitwick murmured. “I wouldn’t dream of thinking you were.” There was a moment of silence as the little professor considered them. “I suggest you talk to Headmaster Dumbledore if certain things are going to interfere with your education. I would also contact your parents. It is not productive to suffer in silence, my boys. Remember that.”
Harry smiled sweetly. “Thank you, sir. We will remember.”
Draco tilted his head thoughtfully. Maybe he should contact the Malfoys. Was that what Snape had hoped he’d do? If it was what a “normal” child would do, then he should adhere to that, shouldn’t he? As his mind raced, Draco very carefully kept this expression and body language calm. He didn’t want to put stress on Harry, not when his boy was still floating in a very relaxed mental space.
Hermione with her map led the way for the other Gryffindor First years. It made Draco smirk, knowing how dead set Ron had been against it and yet here he was following Hermione around. The group hesitated in the doorway, eyes wide when they caught sight of Draco and Harry. Then they all hurried forward.
“I think you’re dead, mate,” Ron exclaimed. “Snape is gonna kill you.”
“Why would you sit at his desk?” Hermione demanded, clearly scandalized. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking there were no other desks. What was I supposed to do?” Draco calmly asked.
“Ask for a new desk!” Lavender hissed at him.
“We’re down seventy-five points in the first day,” Seamus added hotly. “The upper years are going to be cheesed off!”
Draco actually hadn’t considered that angle and frowned. He was on thin ice with Gryffindor, this wasn’t going to help. “Snape was clearly out to get me no matter what I did. I couldn’t have prevented it,” he argued. “I’ll fix it, okay?”
“Good morning, students!” Flitwick said a little louder for the third time. “I see we have quiet the energetic group. However, it is time to learn Charms, children.”
Everyone settled into seats and took notes on Professor Flitwick’s opening lecture, but the group of kids continued to shoot Draco glances throughout the class. Draco sighed and took strength in the - calm trust - that flowed through the bond. Harry wasn’t worried in the least. He was completely confident in Draco’s ability to handle this. Draco steeled himself, determined to make that the reality.
After Charms, the class made their way to the Great Hall, but Draco and Harry stepped off the stairs one floor early.
Ron sighed loudly and asked, “Where are you going now?”
“To see the headmaster,” Draco answered with a cheeky smile, one hand hooking the bangs that had fallen around his face back behind his ear.
Ron called after them, “Try not to make things worse!”
“Acid pops,” Draco stated once they crossed the gargoyle corridor and stood in front of the Headmaster’s Guardian.
The gargoyle stepped aside and the two boys climbed the stairs to Dumbledore’s office. It was even more impressive than the last time Draco had seen it. Sunlight glinted off the items and figures twirling and whirling. Dust motes shimmered in sunbeams giving the area surrounding the old books a mystical feel. Harry’s - awe - made it seem so much more mysterious and majestic.
“Good afternoon, boys. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Dumbledore asked cheerfully, standing behind his desk. He swept his hand forward to indicate the two chairs placed before it. “Lemon drop?”
Harry accepted with a quiet, “Thank you, sir.”
Dumbledore practically beamed, handing over the treat. “You are welcome, Harry,” he said and took a seat in his throne-like chair. “Now what can I do for you?”
“Sir, we had a bit of an altercation with Professor Snape this morning. He made unreasonable demands and made it clear he was displeased with our very presence. He took seventy points off us, gave us detention, and kicked us out of class. I was advised by Professor Flitwick to inform you and our guardians because, if this continues, it will interfere with our education. Potions is a core class, is it not?”
Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of his face, looking at them seriously over his half-moon glasses. “I see.” He paused a moment to consider them. “I cannot say I am surprised that Professor Snape showed you disfavor. There are many reasons for him to do so. That he went so far tells me that you escalated things, my boy, and forced his hand so to speak.”
“You are saying this is my fault?” Draco asked quietly, mind working furiously as he tried to understand any subtler meanings behind Dumbledore’s words.
“You, my boy, are very… assertive,” Dumbledore answered carefully. “That is an asset in its place, but there are times when you have to weather the storm to conserve energy instead of fighting it.”
“I don’t understand,” Draco admitted and met the headmaster’s stare directly. “Snape will continue to attack me and I’m not supposed to react? To what purpose?”
Dumbledore set his hands down on the desk. He leaned forward and spoke very seriously. “You will have to trust there is a reason, my boy. It is not something I can reveal at this time. However, I do believe Severus hopes to make you bear the brunt of his performance to spare Harry as much as he can.”
Draco considered that, but he saw only one choice and it was the same one as this morning. “I can’t not react to him attacking and humiliating me, Headmaster. Especially if he comes after Harry.”
Dumbledore hummed and then offered, “If Severus keeps his act within the realm of an exacting taskmaster, is occasionally unfair, and uses intonation to convey his disfavor, would you be able to handle it without retaliating in front of the other students? He is your professor, Mr. Malfoy, and students aren’t permitted to be defiant.”
Draco lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t understand. Why did you let me go to Gryffindor if you don’t want me to be defiant?”
Dumbledore chuckled, eyes sparkling. “Choosing your fate isn’t defiance, Mr. Malfoy. We are what our choices make of us. I am pleased you would choose the Light.”
Draco stared. What the fuck was that crap? Surely the headmaster wasn’t really that naive, was he? Just because Draco was in Gryffindor didn’t make him some champion of Goodness and Light. Nor did Slytherin mean evil. Draco knew from painful experience that someone who looked nice could be horribly evil, and someone who appeared dangerous could be kind. The worst, or best depending how you looked at it, Death Eaters would not be Slytherin. They were the ones who could hide who they truly were and so cause more damage to the unsuspecting.
“What about the point system?” Harry spoke up for the first time as Draco sat thinking. He kept his voice and demeanor as polite as possible. “Seventy points from Gryffindor in a single period is too much. Gryffindor won’t tolerate that.” Or tolerate Draco, he thought - worried.
“I believe you will be surprised.” Dumbledore smiled so wide they could see his teeth through his beard. “Gryffindor will stand by their own. Now, I believe it would be best to summon Andromeda. She can be seen eating with us tonight at dinner and it will lend credence as to why Severus has to be a little more discrete about his supposed dislike.”
Draco gave Harry’s hand a squeeze, silently telling him he would handle the point thing and was rewarded by the worry simmering through the bond dissolving. Standing, he politely asked, “May I use your floo?”
“Of course, my boy.” Dumbledore rose form his seat and came around his desk. He led Draco to the fireplace and offered him some floo powder from the mantle. His cheerful demeanor dimmed, however, when Draco called, “Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire.”
Draco calmly explained before he put his head in the fire, “Andromeda has been spared most of the ‘Lost Boys’ fervor. I want her in the public eye as little as possible. Besides, Lucius is the more intimidating presence and on the Hogwarts’ Board of Governors.”
Dumbledore gave Harry a look. The messy-haired boy stood a few paces back from the fireplace and seemed completely at ease. Dumbledore sighed and resigned himself to dealing with Lucius. He waited longer than he’d expected, Draco’s conversation with his father lasting about five minutes.
They couldn’t hear them from this end and Dumbledore wondered what exactly Draco had to say that would take so long, and then he realized the boy probably had to explain why he was in Gryffindor in the first place. That brought a cheerful smile back to Dumbledore’s face. It always felt so satisfying to purloin the children of Dark families to the side of the Light.
Draco finally pulled his head from the floo and out stepped Lucius Malfoy, regal and cold, cane in hand and his long hair tied back with a thin silk ribbon. Dumbledore twinkled at him, but was disappointed to see a non-flustered smile upon Lord Malfoy’s face.
Lucius’s grey eyes settled on Harry. “Congratulations on Gryffindor,” he said with a polite nod. “I am sure your birth parents would be pleased.”
“Thank you, Lucius,” Harry answered with a smile.
Dumbledore kept his expression pleasant, but inside he was deeply suspicious at the easiness between the two.
Lucius turned to his old enemy. “Headmaster, I believe we have to discuss the conduct of one of your teachers.”
Draco held out his hand. “Come on, Harry.”
Harry took it obediently and followed him out of the office.
“We missed lunch, but we have a free period before Magical Theory. Dora gave me the directions to the kitchens,” Draco explained. He didn’t like it when Harry missed meals. He’d taken the Healer’s warnings about the negative effects of malnutrition to heart.
…
Narcissa watched her husband floo away to deal with the situation at Hogwarts and her relaxed posture filled with tension. This was her chance. Lucius would be gone for several hours.
She’d known as soon as he had shown her his bare arm that he was hiding something big from her. There was no other reason to keep her in the dark regarding the ritual and it was very telling that he was careful not to name the exact ritual he’d used.
She went directly toward the dungeons. It was where they had a ready ritual room and altar. She had used it every year for the blood ritual to try and find their son. It was the most logical place to begin to look for clues. She didn’t, however, expect to turn around, just remembering the letter she had wanted to write to Mrs. Parkinson….
Narcissa stopped and narrowed her eyes dangerously. There was a subtle Forgetfulness Ward to repel those trying to enter the dungeon. She broke it easily and then had to face Lottie who tried to bar her entrance. Narcissa had Dobby restrain and gag her, much to Dobby’s distress.
Her heart beat a mile a minute as she descended into the dark. A Lumos lit the way and she found herself standing tensely in front of a warded and sealed cell door. Lucius was keeping a prisoner. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her strength and readied her wand, determined to break open her husband's secret.
…
Magical Theory went as well as could be supposed. The First years were still on edge, especially as Draco merely shrugged when they demanded to know what he’d done to “fix” things. Harry did his best to get conversation flowing and away from the topic of Snape, but despite his best efforts it was stilted and stiff.
They were just about to enter the Great Hall for dinner when someone grabbed Draco by the robe collar and spun him around, slamming his back against the stone wall. The girls gasped, Lavender actually giving a short, sharp scream.
A heavy-set Gryffindor Sixth year put his face into Draco’s and growled, “I know what you are, Malfoy. A Slytherin spy sent to sink us.”
Draco, head throbbing from where it had impacted the wall, grit his teeth. He was just barely managing to keep his magic in check. Don’t kill the kid, no maiming… he reminded himself forcefully, but it was hard because his adrenaline had spiked with the pain and his heart was slamming against his ribs.
“Get off him!” Harry yelled, filled with - protective rage, and charged forward, green eyes blazing behind his glasses. He drew up short when the teen leveled his wand right at his face with his free hand and four other Gryffindor upperclassmen appeared out of the shadows at the thug’s back.
Draco slammed his wrist into the bully’s, forcing him to let go. His white-blond hair had fallen to frame his face and his eyes seemed to glitter in the low light. He was practically half the older teen’s height, but his glare gave the boy pause. “Snape had it out for me. There wasn’t anything I could do.”
“You should have seen him sit at Snape’s desk,” Ron chimed in desperately. His shock of red hair seemed even brighter against his pale, anxious face, his freckles standing out boldly. Ron held tightly onto Harry’s arm to keep him from doing anything stupid. Heart thundering, he managed a squeaky, nervous laugh. “Snape looked like he was going to explode! It was great!”
They didn’t seem impressed and took a threatening step closer to their group, looks of hatred and fury on their face when a loud burst of laughter came behind the gang.
Fred and George pushed past the older teens, grinning ear to ear. “I’d’ve loved to see that, Forge!” “Can you believe the balls on this one, Gred?” Somehow they insinuated their way to Draco’s side and flung their arms over his shoulders.
“I’m getting those points back,” Draco promised darkly, still glaring up at the gang leader. “I already talked to Dumbledore.”
“Took on Snape and won!” George cheered, pulling Draco toward the Great Hall doors.
“He’s a right champion!” Fred exclaimed loudly. “A hero!”
The First years hurried after them, leaving the angry teens behind. George and Fred were singing some kind of hero’s song, putting Draco’s name in for the hero, but Draco was intensely aware that most of the Gryffindors sitting at the table were not amused. A few who had to be the twins’ friends were on board and clapping Draco’s back, but they were just a dozen out of a hundred and fifty.
The twins pulled Draco and Harry down onto the bench seat and sat one on either side of the two smaller boys. They weren’t big themselves, only Third years, but it was clear they were making a statement that Draco and Harry were under their protection.
Percy joined them, sitting across from Draco, and gave a subtle nod to his younger twin brothers. Draco had the intuition that Percy had asked the twins to keep an eye out for them, and he gave the older teen an approving smile.
They were also joined by three girls and Kell’s older brother, Lee. The rest of the First years filled the seats around them. They had clearly decided to stick with Draco against common enemies: Snape and bullies.
“Who’s that eating next to Dumbledore?” one of the older girls asked, pointing to the Head Table. “He’s hot!”
Draco looked over and smirked. “That’s Lucius Malfoy.”
Fred and George whistled. “You’re not messing around!” they said together.
“Snape’s done for!” Ron crowed, potatoes half-filling his mouth.
“Who were those guys?” Harry demanded, heart still racing from the attack.
“Some Gryffindor fanatics,” Percy answered softly.
“Nothing wrong with House pride,” was Lee’s opinion, his dreads bouncing as he defended his plate from his little sister who was trying to steal his perfectly buttered roll.
“Nothing at all,” Fred said slyly, brown eyes bright with mischief.
“And we might help him show some,” George added with an evil grin.
The girls giggled nervously while the older boys looked a little pale.
Draco showed an equally fierce show of teeth. “I’m in!”
Fred ruffled Draco’s soft blond hair, much to the boy’s disgust. “Nah! It’ll look like you’re really against Gryffindor like they said if you helped.”
“Leave the pranking to us,” George agreed. “You keep doing what you’re doing.”
“And what’s that?” Draco asked, fixing his hair with a huff.
“Why rocking the boat of course!” the twins exclaimed together.
Word spread quickly that a very serious and attractive Lord Lucius Malfoy was eating at the Head Table with Headmaster Dumbledore. It was also noted that Professor Snape was not in attendance. The Slytherin table was unusually quiet, their expressions studiously blank except for the younger years who looked worried and confused.
Toward the end of the meal, Professor McGonagall approached their table and told them that they were wanted in the Headmaster’s office. Draco and Harry rose, school bags on their shoulders, and made their way to the Headmaster’s Tower.
Lucius was waiting for them at the fireplace. He gave the boys a cool smile and a nod of his head. “I look forward to your letters home. Make our family proud.” He took each boy by the shoulder and squeezed lightly before turning to the floo, his cane clicking on the floor.
“Thank you,” Draco said softly.
Lucius turned back and gave Draco a daring smile, and then he was gone.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, eyes twinkling like mad. “The point counters have been corrected. Any points taken from you during Potions today has been returned. The detentions stand, however. Hop to. You don’t want to be late. Professor Snape is expecting you seven-fifteen sharp.”
“Thank you, Headmaster,” Harry said politely as Draco led him from the room by his hand.
…
Lucius stepped out of the floo feeling buoyant. Making that Vow and removing the Dark Mark made him feel new, and the reward was great indeed: a clean start with his son. Draco had called on him for protection!
His enthusiasm deflated instantly when he spotted Narcissa sitting in one of the receiving room’s chairs. Her dress was torn, her hair had half-fallen from its knot, soot smudged her skin, her hands bore burns, but it was her eyes, burning with blue fury, that drew him up short.
“I have to ask myself… Why would my husband so strongly ward a cell in the dungeon? Who could he possibly be warding against… except for me?” Narcissa spoke with quiet force, slowly getting to her feet. “Such dangerous and painful wards… with only me in mind.”
“Narcissa…” Lucius said weakly.
Injuring her had not at all been his intent when he’d constructed those wards, but he couldn’t argue with her reasoning. It was logical. There was no one else in the house to ward against but her. She would not believe him if he told her he’d been afraid of someone else breaking in to rescue his prisoner. How would they even know his prisoner was there? How would they get through the manor’s wards? He perhaps hadn’t thought it all the way through when he placed those wards on the cell door. He was honestly horrified that Narcissa was so wounded by spells he’d laid down.
“Such strange behavior… Keeping from your wife a potentially fatal ritual… A ritual you would not name… It made me wonder what the components of that ritual had been…” She continued in that soft, dangerous voice as she took one slow, small step toward him after another. She finally stood directly in front of him and looked coldly up into his eyes. “And what do I find… hidden away in the dark… but my sister! The sister I have mourned since I got news of her death in Azkaban!”
“Your sister stole Draco from you. From us,” Lucius told her ruthlessly. “She took your son away and left him vulnerable. To be enslaved and tortured by filthy Muggle men.”
Narcissa was unimpressed. “Get on your knees, Lucius. I want to look down at you.”
Lucius’s eyes flared wide. His head reared back in instinctual refusal… But then he calmed himself and sank to his knees. He owed her penance.
Narcissa stared down at him, expression as hard and unyielding as stone. “Her crimes were against my son as much as yours, Lucius, and you denied me knowledge. That is your first wrong against me. Denied me a chance at revenge. That is your second. You then held someone of my blood and inflicted torture without my consent. Your third wrong. How long, Lucius? She could not tell me for certain.”
“Three years,” he answered quietly.
Narcissa let silence fill the room. Lucius knelt before her, his fine robes pooling on the floor, his cane discarded, but he remained unbowed. She’d see about that. “You let me believe she was dead…” Her voice was raw with pain. Tears streaked her face and it made her look all the more ferocious. “What was it?”
“A golem,” he answered softly, pale-faced as he looked up at her.
The pain was terrible, but then she masked it. Cold as ice, she said slowly and with precision, “You owe me obedience, Lucius. Do you remember?” She caressed her cheek where he had struck her all those years ago, bruising her skin.
Lucius tensed. “Are you calling in my debt?”
Narcissa smiled and it was a terrifying expression. “Yes, Lucius. I am. You will relinquish all rights of vengeance against Bellatrix Black. You will place her under my authority. Should you wish to have further dealings with her, you will have to go through me. Do you accept?”
Lucius grit his teeth. The storm of hate inside him howled at the thought of Bellatrix going free. He was about to refuse when he saw his wife through the red of his rage. Narcissa, fair and strong, beautiful and clever… and terribly hurt by him. She was the woman he would forever be devoted to. His beloved wife. He loved her, dearly, and she was asking him to honor the promises and debts between them. If he could not, he’d lose her completely.
It pained him, his neck practically creaked it was so tense, but he bent his head and said, “Yes.”
…
Draco stood outside the Potions classroom. He wasn’t sure what to expect. How much had been an act Snape had to put on and how much was real? Dumbledore couldn’t convince him that there hadn’t been some truth in Snape’s rage. He gave Harry a look. His boy stood beside him with only a little worry tainting his calm. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and knocked.
“Enter!” Snape’s voice called angrily.
Draco pushed open the door and the two boy stepped inside. It was even darker than during the day, but not so dark that they couldn’t see. Snape stood in front of his desk, his arms folded, skin a sallow white, with a fierce glare.
“Sit at the first desk. I have your task prepared for you,” Snape said with soft malevolence. With a pointed look at Harry, he added, “I hope that is explicit enough for you, Mr. Potter.”
Draco felt irritation crawl under his skin. He wanted to snap and growl, but he forced himself to remain silent. It had been so long since he'd had to endure a bad situation without actively fighting back. This was nowhere near as bad as the torture he’d faced at Raymond’s hands, but the parallel made him jumpy as hell.
“Yes, sir,” Harry answered easily.
Snape’s hostility did not bother him. Obeying simple tasks was comforting for him. He shot Draco a concerned glance, knowing it wasn’t the same for the blond. Draco gave him a tight smile and led him toward the front of the room. A pile of dead lizard-type creatures were placed on the desk. The creature was a dark, muddy green and extremely slimy. Sharp silver scalpels were placed beside the pile.
“You will be dissecting these for ingredients,” Snape told them with heavy impatience. He demonstrated how to remove the eyes, tongue, skin, and tail. The rest he diced, explaining as if to very stupid people what exactly “diced” meant. “There are two more baskets. I suggest you get started. You won’t be leaving until you’re done.”
“Yes, sir,” Harry said again and began.
Draco copied him and used his bangs to conceal his angry glare.
They had only been working for about ten minutes, the disgusting smell and texture of the lizard’s slime making both boys feel nauseous when Snape suddenly slammed his hand on the teacher’s desk. Harry jumped and Draco bunched his shoulders up defensively, trying to restrain a growl.
“Our listeners are gone,” Snape snapped furiously. “Children have the patience of a gnat!” He stood up and strode threateningly toward their desk. “I had hoped you had matured, Draco, but instead you’re the same arrogant little bastard you were four years ago! Flaunting the rules, choosing your own House, refusing to respect any sort of authority…!”
Draco tossed his head to part the curtain of his hair and met Snape glare for glare. “I have good reason to want to be in Gryffindor and you know it!”
“Good reason!” Snape scoffed, black eyes glittering with malice. “Your reasons and wants do not supersede society! You’re a child! Know your place!”
“My place is to ensure Harry’s survival and comfort! That’s the only thing that matters!”
“It’s not the only thing that matters, you imbecile!”
“Stop,” Harry begged. Tears fell down his cheeks, his voice a soft plea. “Please, Professor Snape.” Black eyes burned into him, but Harry met the cold stare with a gentle expression. “Draco is Draco. We’d be dead if he were anyone less, don’t you see?”
Draco slid his fingers into Harry’s wild hair and pulled the boy close, letting Harry rest his head on his shoulder as he wiped at his eyes.
Severus spun, keeping his back to the boys. His hands fisted at his sides. A few minutes passed before he was able to face the children again. “I apologize, Harry. I am… frustrated.” He met Draco’s guarded eyes. “Today did not have to become such a battle. A little taunting and you would have been able to continue class. Instead you challenged me and things escalated. One day you will challenge the wrong person and the backlash will be more than you can handle.”
Draco opened his mouth to say he’d always handle it, but Snape held up his hand to cut him off.
“You’re too arrogant, too arrogant by far. It’s dangerous. You have Harry to think of.”
“I always think of Harry,” Draco countered, voice low and rough.
Snape glared, frustration rushing back. “You’re in for a fall, Draco, and it will be Harry who suffers for it.” He strode past them, robes flaring around his ankles. “Finish your detention and go.” The classroom door slammed shut behind him.
Draco forced his shoulders and hands to relax, Harry’s - concern - a constant itch under his skin. “Snape’ll understand in time,” he offered. Forcefully hooking his bangs behind his ears, he turned back to the task at hand. “Let’s get this done.”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered obediently.
As he worked side-by-side with Draco in the quiet, dimly lit classroom, Harry slowly felt a swell of hot determination begin to burn through his veins. His whole purpose in life was serving and caring for Draco. He couldn’t do much for Draco as he was, but Harry would get stronger, he’d study hard, and then everyone would know, even Snape, that if Draco ever did fall, Harry would be there to save him.
…
Ron lifted his head off the side of the couch arm where he’d kind of folded an hour ago as the portrait swung open. Most of the House was up in the dorm rooms, but the First year Gryffindor boys plus Hermione and Percy had stayed in the common room to wait.
Draco and Harry walked in and with them came the most awful smell.
“Whew! What did he have you doing?” Ron demanded, pinching his nose.
“Cutting up these lizard things,” Draco answered tiredly. His hair had fallen around his face and he hadn’t bothered trying to tuck it back behind his ears. “We washed our hands three times and they still smell.”
“How many of them were there?” Hermione asked curiously. “You were gone hours! It’s past curfew.”
“Hundreds,” Draco told her with a grimace. “We’re going to get a shower and go to bed. You didn’t have to wait up.”
Ron, Dean, and Seamus gave some encouraging and/or sympathizing words as they made their way up to their dorms. Draco and Harry binned their dirty clothes and pulled on their night robes before heading to the bathroom. Neville was nice enough not to complain about the smell coming off the dirty clothes. There wasn’t anything they could do about it.
Percy was waiting in the bathroom. “This ointment will clean all the remaining residue from your hands,” he told Draco softly, pushing his glasses up his nose much the way Harry did.
Draco felt a surge of affection for the teen as he accepted the jar. “Thank you, Percy. I really appreciate it.”
Percy nodded his head and slipped out of the bathroom, giving them privacy.
Chapter end.
A/N: Any ideas for pranks to pull on the Gryffindor bullies and/or Slytherins who are still pissed, I’d really appreciate hearing them. Also, I’d love some feedback on a Gryffindor Draco. What would you like most to see or have me take advantage of? What do you not want to see? I need a few kick-starting ideas because I’m hitting writer’s block. I give you my thanks in advance!
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Freedom Bound in Chains