The Lion and the Serpent

There was dark blood in Draco\'s dreams. He was wading through blood, his own, or Ron\'s - he couldn\'t tell. It didn\'t matter, as long as death would come. It didn\'t. It continued to beckon and elude him, hovering at a distance, as he walked through the dark river. He gazed at the dreadful scenery around him: barren land, patches of wilted grass, dead, gnarled trees sparsely peppered with small glowing leaves that resembled lockets.



"I am sorry!" a quiet whisper echoed, sending a shiver of ripples against the surface of the river. "Draco! For the love of god, open your eyes! I am so sorry - Draco!"



Hermione, Draco thought, but didn\'t stop. He walked forward, into the dark void that loomed on the horizon.



"Harry!" Hermione\'s voice cried. "Do something!"



Draco continued walking in stubborn silence.



And then he heard Harry\'s voice, stern and commanding:



"Malfoy. Wake up."



At the sound of Harry\'s voice, the scenery shattered around him. Draco opened his eyes obediently. He was in Harry\'s bed, lying on his back, his clothes still damp and stained with blood. Hermione was sitting next to him, holding his hand.



"Thank God," Hermione spoke rapidly, near tears. "Draco, I am so sorry. I swear, I had no idea - I would have followed you, stopped you... And that is absolutely dreadful - what could possibly urge you to do something like that?"



Draco\'s eyelashes fluttered and he glanced briefly at Harry, who was standing in the corner of the bedroom, his arms folded on his chest, staring at Draco thoughtfully.



"You may answer. Truthfully," Harry permitted, his voice suddenly sounding tired and old.



Draco shook his head and shut his eyes tightly, not trusting himself to be able to speak without his voice breaking.



"What on earth - " Hermione started saying, and then stopped, as she gazed at Harry in terror. "Harry! The bond?"



Harry gave her a curt nod. Hermione sat quietly for a moment, as if refusing to believe it. Then she asked softly,



"Is he out of danger now? Or do you still.... feel the same way?"



"No more danger," Harry muttered. "I am ... it\'s ok. I don\'t care if he lives."



"Don\'t care if he lives - Harry, that\'s not good enough!"



"It will have to do," Harry said bluntly. "Malfoy?"



"Yes, Sir," Draco opened his eyes.



"Describe what you feel."



"The urge to harm myself to the point of death has passed, Sir. The urge to be punished is still present."



Harry looked at Hermione. "Satisfied?"



Without waiting for a response, Harry strode towards the bedroom door, and opened it. Draco turned his head, and saw a small, lonely figure of a girl standing in the living room, waiting silently. Her long, straight, blond hair, and her silver-green scarf had stains of blood on it. The girl looked up at Harry breathlessly, as he towered over her.



"Miss Cain," Harry intoned unemotionally.



"Yes, Sir," she whispered bravely.



"One point to Slytherin, for preventing the Prefect\'s Bathroom from becoming a revolting mess. And one point for ... retrieving my property. Dismissed."



She breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Sir," and she was gone instantly.



Draco lay in the bed, his lips forming a faint smile. One point, he thought. It wasn\'t much, but it looked like he worth something to Harry, after all. Both pride and dread coursed through him at the realization.



Behind the door, Hermione and Harry were talking.



"I need your help," Harry said. "I\'ll have to punish him, after all. It won\'t do to have him running around, hurting himself in front of the students."



"What do you have in mind?" Hermione asked cautiously..



"I want you to place some powerful protective spells on his mind. I intend to use the Cruciatus and I need to make sure he doesn\'t go... "



"Insane from the torture?" Hermione supplied the words helpfully, her voice seething with anger.



"That\'s right," Harry said.



"I will do no such thing!” Hermione shouted. “And Harry, you are not using an unforgivable curse on Draco, or anyone else - and that is final."



"Well, what do you want me to do!?!” Harry yelled. “Break his ribs? Punch him in the face? Whip him?"



"Whip him, then!" Hermione said flatly. “It\'s not like you could get much more medieval than this – slavery, bonds, humiliation...”



“Shut up, Hermione.”



Hermione paused only briefly, and then spoke again, almost apologetically.



"Harry, I don\'t know the full extent of your anger. But I do know why the unforgivable curses, are ... well, unforgivable."



She took a deep breath and continued hastily, as if afraid of being silenced:



"Harry, they are unforgivable, because they allow to do the dreadful things to other human beings - control, torture, kill - without having to face any of the mess. They allow you to be a monster, and feel that you have no blood on your hands."



Stunned silence followed.



“Monster,” Harry said finally, as if tasting the word on his tongue. “You are right, of course, Hermione. You are always right. You should leave now.”



"Harry? No! Are you sure? I could stay... apply the healing spells afterwards, if..."



"Go," Harry said resolutely. “Get out.”



"I\'m sorry," she offered again, and then there was a burst of energy, indicating her departure.



Draco felt his heart sinking. The realization that Hermione was gone, leaving him alone with Harry, filled him with dread. Left with Harry alone, he could expect no sympathy, no help, no comfort, not even a recognition of his suffering. Only pain.



His hands clutched the blanket, as he tried to calm himself, and to linger in the bed just a little bit longer. But the urging of the bond became more and more insistent. Knowing that his owner was out there, about to deliver the punishment, made the urging irresistible. Draco stood up, and shuffled to the door slowly. His head still rang from the impact against the ice, but he walked out into the living room, and began to undress under Harry\'s cold, impassive gaze.



“Give me your belt,” Harry said.



Draco crouched over the pile of his clothes, looking for his belt. Somehow, handing his own belt to Harry made him feel even more helpless. Then Harry\'s hand firmly took Draco by the elbow and guided him to stand up, and lean against the wall. And in spite of the exhaustion, the humiliation, the terror, Draco\'s body still reacted to Harry\'s touch. Draco winced, expecting to be berated or taunted.



“You can close your eyes,” Harry\'s calm voice said suddenly.



Reassured and emboldened by the unexpected kindness of this simple permission, Draco braced himself against the wall, and arched his back out.



The belt struck savagely, and Draco felt a trickle of blood run down his back. His fingers scraped against the wall, and tears streamed from his eyes involuntarily. The belt descended rapidly, lacerating his back, his thighs, his buttocks, his sides. Stunned by the explosion of violence, Draco sobbed noiselessly, even as his entire body convulsed under the blows.



The whipping ended abruptly, but the pain did not subside, it only changed – going from stabbing, to burning, to throbbing. Using the wall for support, Draco started sliding to the floor slowly. Certain that his punishment wasn\'t over yet, Draco stood on his hands and knees, weak, unsteady, desperately hoping desperately that the new position would suffice for whatever Harry had in mind. It did.



Quickly, Harry bent to touch him, his fingertips brushing against Draco\'s bleeding back. “Asklepio,” Harry said, and a burst of wandless magic enveloped Draco, wiping the pain and the injuries from his body, as if they had never existed.



Draco stayed on the floor for a few minutes, allowing his mind to adjust to everything that just happened. Harry did nothing to rush him. When Draco finally got up, Harry was sitting at the table, paging through an old book.



“Draco,” Harry said evenly. “I want you to clean yourself up, and go to bed. You will find some clean sleepwear in the trunk in my room. Find something that is acceptable to you and wear it.”



Draco came up to Harry, and stood next to him, with his head bowed. When he looked at Harry, he saw that there was blood on his fingertips - Draco\'s. Instinctively, Draco reached out to wipe it, but found his hand slapped away.



“Go to bed,” Harry repeated.