The Phoenix and The Dragon

a/n: I will be adding other warnings as they appear but the NC 17 is for later chapters.

***

Harry walked up the stairs of privet drive sluggishly. Vernon had picked him up at Kings Cross and had not spoken a single word. Not that he ever did, but this time Harry wished that Vernon had done something to take his mind off of what he was leaving behind. Instead he was left with bleak memories and a vague hopelessness that lay heavy in the pit of his stomach the way Dumbledore lay heavy in his white tomb.

‘Dumbledore is gone.’ His headmaster, his teacher, his mentor, the only grandfather figure Harry had ever known was gone, killed at the hands of one of Voldemort’s servants. The bastard hadn’t even had the decency to do it himself. He had threatened and frightened a student to attempt it and then when that student failed, he had his ‘spy’ do it. Harry swayed slightly at the top of the stairs. The Dursley’s, in the kitchen, didn’t notice. They wouldn’t even notice him if he had fallen down the stairs and cracked his head on the banister. Its one thing to hate someone, but the Dursley’s were completely oblivious. Harry just grabbed the wall for support and sneered over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen before continuing towards his room, luggage (that he had to haul out of the boot himself) being pulled up with the hand not clutching the wall support.

Harry hadn’t had a proper eight hours sleep in two weeks. He checked his clock and it was only five, still he crawled onto the small bed and snuggled deep under the duvet. He lay on the bed silently for a moment or two and then he released all of his pain and cried and screamed and cried again. He cried for Dumbledore and for Hogwarts and for the students who would never know the great headmaster and he cried for Malfoy who he understood now more then he ever thought possible. His last thought amidst silent sobs before falling into a deep sleep was that he wanted to save the world. Not for Dumbledore, not for his parents or his friends, but for himself. And for Malfoy. He was now on no ones side but his own, the side of those who never got a choice.

*

When Harry finally woke up the moonlight was dimly lighting his window pane and casting dark shadows across the floor boards. He looked over at his alarm clock, 4:00 am. Harry knew he shouldn’t have fallen asleep at 5:00 in the afternoon, but he had been so tired. Now, feeling refreshed he decided to get to work. He had mourned and now it was time to get started. He hadn’t meant to get quite such an early start but he had horcruxs to find and a Dark Lord to kill.

“List of Horcruxes…short and simple.” He chuckled to himself while looking down at the parchment and his sketchy handwriting. “1. Ring of Gaunt. 2. Locket of Slytherin. 3. Cup of Hufflepuff. 4. Diary of Voldemort. 5. Something of Ravenclaw’s or Gryffindors. 6. The snake…Oh well this should be easy.” Harry scratched his head and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. What Harry wanted was to talk to Dumbledore, but that was out of the question. What he needed to do was to think up a game plan and maybe get his hands on Dumbledore’s pensive.

Tap.

Harry turned sharply towards his window.

Tap.

There it was again and this time he saw the small stone fling off the window and back towards the ground. He crouched down and cautiously tiptoed towards the window.

Tap.

This time he stopped just underneath the window pane and listened to the faint voices wafting up from below.

“….silence Draco.”

“But Severus, you can’t expect him to believe us can you?”

“You had better pray to Merlin that he does Draco because I can’t hide you forever. Your lucky to be alive right now do you understand that? If Albus hadn’t known what he was doing we’d both be dead now, you at the hands of Death Eaters and me from an unbreakable vow and let me remind you that if you had come to me and Dumbledore sooner this all could have been avoided!” There was a pause. “And if bloody Potter doesn’t get to that bloody window soon we may be dead yet.”

“I thought you said he was awake.” Draco responded weakly, his voice quivering and soft so that Harry had to strain to hear it.

“I thought he was, now be quiet.” The clear voice of Severus Snape snapped from below.

Tap.

Harry couldn’t believe what he had just heard. His insides twisted at the thought of Snape outside his window but what he had heard provoked his curiosity. It seems Snape and Malfoy had not returned to Voldemort after all. Harry gripped the pane and stood up, wand drawn. He saw, illuminated in the street lamps, two very shabby looking wizards. One tale and sallow with a livid frown etched into his features as he tilted his head to look up and the other was young, frail and disheveled with platinum blond hair matted and clumped around his face. Harry cracked the window and pointed his wand at them in an empty threat.

“What do you want?” He hissed. Draco opened his mouth but before he could get a word out Snape jutted an elbow into his side and Malfoy’s mouth snapped shut. Snape then reached into his torn robes and just as Harry was about to AK him, he produced not a wand but a small square object.

“Potter, catch.” Snape tossed the object into the air directly at the window. Harry, making use of his seeker reflexes and not thinking, slid his hands underneath the glass and caught it deftly.

“Harry, my boy, good to see you. Good to see you!” He stood numbly staring down at the small 5’’ by 6’’ hand painted portrait of Dumbledore that was clutched in his hands.

“Headmaster?” The portrait’s eyes didn’t sparkle the same way they did in life but the wide grin was the same.

“Not anymore I’m told. And that means all has gone according to plan. Unfortunately it seems my time was up.”

“But Dumbledore how-“

“Ah dear boy, we’ll get to that. I have enchanted this portrait, much like the sorting hat was enchanted long ago, to carry my voice. Now if you would be so kind as to go and open the door for Severus and young master Malfoy I’ll explain everything when you are all situated.”

“He killed you. You know that?” Harry whispered, his voice shook but he was resolute in his hesitance. Why should he believe a picture? Was this a trick? Dumbledore, even as a portrait, was observant.

“Yes Harry, I am aware of the circumstances surrounded my recent demise. It was choreographed with my involvement in fact. No one who wishes you any harm can set foot inside this house or the wards surrounding it. Not only were Severus and Draco already in your backyard, standing in your Aunt Petunia’s prized rose bushes I believe, but they WILL be able to enter the house I assure you. They will not nor want to hurt you.”

He sighed. What did he have to lose besides his life? He didn’t think that would be a problem though because he was pretty sure Voldemort wanted to do the deed himself.

“Alright, but I’m taking my wand.” As if it mattered, he wasn’t of age yet and honestly he wasn’t sure who he was trying to intimidate.

“Good, good. I would expect no less. Must keep vigilant, as Alastor would say.” Speaking of Mad-Eye, Harry wondered briefly why no Aurors or Order members had spotted his visitors. Lazy Mundungas on the job probably. “Now, off you go.”

Harry carefully set the portrait down and headed out his bedroom door and crept as softly as he could down the stairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he again felt his stomach knot up at the thought of Dumbledore’s killer just outside his door, unsuspecting. And Draco, he was there as well. Harry’s heart swelled, he was alive. It seemed like decades since he had found the boy sobbing in the girls’ bathroom with moaning myrtle but the vision of Draco on the tower that fateful night was still fresh in Harry’s mind. Harry couldn’t forget those vivid grey eyes sparkling with tears and wide as he told Dumbledore about the potential death of his mother, the look of fear and relief and despair when he lowered his wand and resigned himself as no more capable of murder then Dumbledore had suspected. Hopefully this would be a peaceful meeting and not some ploy to lure him out of hiding so Voldemort could finally finish the job and Draco could redeem himself to the madman. He doubted it, but he had been wrong before.

*

Harry cracked the bay window of the living room and called in a whisper toward the two shabby wizards on the stoop. “Toss your wands towards the garden!” Malfoy jumped and lost his footing, he slipped straight into the pansies. Severus merely snatched Draco’s wand from the blond’s outstretched hand and tossed it, along with his own, right underneath the garden window. Harry thought he heard Malfoy mutter ‘bloody wanker’ as he reached down to grab the wands from their resting place among the begonias. Once he had both wands tucked securely in his pockets and his own extended in front of him Harry walked over and calmly opened the door. Snape was looking at him blankly and Malfoy was trying to clean off his already dirty robes.

“Nice of you to finally get the hint and let us in Potter!” As much as Harry had wanted to apologize to Malfoy and as pained as the teen had looked on the astronomy tower his voice triggered an automatic response that Harry found he had little control over.

“You want to get back on your arse in the garden Malfoy and start our little greeting over?” This time Draco didn’t get a chance to reply because Snape grabbed the back of Draco’s robes and shoved him over the threshold.

“Not a word Draco.” The sallow haired potions master glared at his blond charge. Then he looked at Harry in silent apology. Harry was stunned.

“Potter. I apologize, we’ve been a bit secluded as of late and I fear Draco has forgotten his manners. I expect Albus has explained our reason for being here.”

“Snape.” The short and formal greeting was all Harry could muster. In the dim light of the hall Snape and Malfoy both looked horrible.

Snape’s normally sallow skin was jaundiced and thin. His hair was thick with dirt and grease and his black eyes were yellowed and also bloody in the whites. Draco, if it was possible, looked worse. His once impeccable platinum hair was dingy and straw-like. It matted in thick clumps with grease and bits of earth, his robes were ripped and torn and impossibly filthy, spattered with what had appeared earlier to be mud but Harry recognized the spatters now as dried blood. His chapped lips, with no trace of the smirk they had so easily held back before this past year, were thin and pale and pulled tight across his face in a frown. When Malfoy looked at him Harry’s insides twisted back into an uncomfortable knot because for the first time Malfoy’s eyes held no emotion. No rage, no fear, no mischief, no hint of the glimmer that used to be so frightening and interesting about Malfoy. Harry felt the snake in the pit of his stomach rear up in anger, no one deserved this, not even Malfoy. Then, before he could stop himself, Harry turned on the blond and with a smile and a nod greeted him in the usual way.

“Ferret?”

Draco looked stunned for a moment. Only a moment though because the shock in his face was quickly wiped away and as if he had known what Harry was thinking, he smirked in that irritatingly familiar way.

“Scarhead.” Draco’s face was stoic and blank but his eyes gleamed again for a split second and his voice betrayed a relieved and comfortable warmth at the memorable banter. Before Snape could reprimand Draco again Harry let out an appreciative chuckle. He was happy to see some things never changed.

“Good to see you to.” He turned from Draco after their brief but encouraging exchange and rounded on Snape. “No he hasn’t said much, Dumbledore says he’ll explain everything once we get upstairs and since I’ve probably just woken the Dursley’s we should get moving.” Snape just looked from one boy back to the other and nodded grimly before walking in the direction the Gryffindor pointed. Harry may have opened the door but he didn’t plan on turning his back anytime soon.

*

“Potter, do you have a bathroom in this muggle hovel?” Harry just shook his head at Draco’s quasi-disdain. Harry knew the blond was relieved beyond his wildest dreams at being safely inside the house.

“Across the hall, first door on the left. Be quiet not to wake anyone. Got it?” Draco just lifted an eyebrow and turned on his heel. Harry smirked but his expression flattened when he looked Snape square in the face. If he was going to get answers from Snape first, before they went in to talk to the portrait, while they waited for Draco in the hall seemed the best time.

“What are you really doing here? Surely not to stop in for a cuppa and a chat.”

“No Potter. How observant you’ve become. If you must know we had no choice and I will not be staying.” Harry nodded in agreement then stopped still.

“Wait one damned second. You will not be staying here? Don’t you mean ‘we’?”

“No, I meant exactly what I said.”

“He can’t stay here. They’ll never go for it. The Dursleys will lose it! Not to mention Draco’ll kill me in my sleep! I have work to do! I’m not even staying here after my Birthday!”

“Slow down Potty. I won’t kill my only ticket out of Azkaban or death for that matter. And I won’t stay here after your birthday either. I’ll go with you, wherever you need to go. I’ll help, I already told Severus I would. I have no where else to go. That and if you’re going to win this war you’re going to need someone with some intelligence on this journey…quest…thing you’re going on.”

Harry was stunned not only at Draco’s sudden appearance and proclamation but also by the fact that although he’d only spent a few minutes in the bathroom he looked tons better. He was still painfully thin with bags underneath his eyes but his face and hands were clean and his hair, although greasy, was no longer clumped and matted with dirt and blood.

“You-you can’t be serious. You want to help me? Have I lost my mind?”

Draco grinned wickedly. “What mind?” Harry stared incredulous with his mouth opening and closing in silent shock at the jibe.

“Have you lost your mind!?!”

“No. And I don’t like wasting my time Potter. Now are we going to go talk to that bleeding portrait or what?”