The Lion and the Serpent

That night, Draco couldn\'t sleep. He stayed in his bed nonetheless, staring at the ceiling numbly. It was quiet, dreadfully quiet – quiet enough that Draco could hear Harry\'s labored breathing from across the quarters.



Draco\'s thoughts went back to the events of the last battle.







It happened after Dumbledore had died.

It happened after Harry had found his way back from the ethereal place between life and death, with the piece of Voldemort\'s soul within Harry finally destroyed.

It happened after Snape had died, having imparted his memories to Harry.

It happened after Neville had died, defying Voldemort, defenseless and weaponless.



After all of that, Harry ran.



They all saw him run. He ran as fast as he could. He ran towards Voldemort. Towards Nagini, wrapped around his shoulders. Even though there was no way of defeating them. He ran.



Voldemort pointed his gnarled finger at Harry, about to issue a curse. Harry only ran faster. Ran towards Voldemort. Ran towards Nagini. Ran towards the curse. Ran towards death. Just ran.



And then something happened, and everyone who was around had witnessed it. It was wandless. It was wordless. Everyone could tell that it was not even a thought - just a raw, brutal, violent, primal emotion that Harry focused on Voldemort, with his entire being. And then, an explosion followed, and Voldemort was gone, along with Nagini, as if something had ripped them apart with unprecedented violence.



All around Harry, cheers erupted. Wearied by death, loss, fear, pain, people were celebrating their victory.



They had won. But Voldemort hadn\'t died. His essence (and that of his last Hortcrux) was scattered throughout the world. He wasn\'t alive... but he wasn\'t dead either. And he was everywhere.



Voldemort\'s essence could be felt everywhere. In all levels of governments, on the streets, at homes, in schools, at marketplaces. There was an undercurrent of fearful anger spreading throughout the world, slow but unstoppable, leaking everywhere, like snake venom. Here and there, gangs were forming. Old prejudices were rekindling, and new were being created. People trying talking about it, and tried fighting it – but any noble and valiant action taken was quickly corrupted, twisted, turned into something other.



The darkness was everywhere. It was in their food, in their air, in their bodies. It was in the words they spoke, in the music they listened to. It was in the magic itself. It was hovering, lingering, penetrating everything. The world was changing. Not fully. Not wholly. But enough.







Draco was jolted to alertness by a bright burst of energy in the living room. Harry must have heard it too, as there was a faint stirring in his bedroom, followed by absolute silence.



“It\'s just me, Harry,” Hermione\'s voice said. “Don\'t A.K. me – alright?”



“I should, just for waking me up like that,” Harry muttered.



Draco could hear their voices clearly, as if they were speaking right next to him.



“You are a terrible liar. You weren\'t sleeping. You never sleep.”



“Fine. What do you want?” Harry snapped.



“I need some company,” she said, sounding at once defiant and vulnerable.



“Give me a minute.” A few mutters and curses later, Draco heard Harry shuffle out into the living room.



“You look ridiculous,” Hermione informed him. “Boxer shorts and a hoodie?”



“If you want a fashion show, give me some warning,” Harry grumbled.



“Well, as much as I would like you to model all of your underwear for me, Harry – that is, all 3 pieces of it..”



“Hermione – stop.” Harry\'s quiet but forceful voice subdued Hermione, just like it always had, and she sniffled slightly.



“I need to lie down,” she mumbled weakly. “I\'m so tired... and I have to go to Hogwarts library first thing in the morning... researching the goddamn Dark Marks isn\'t easy, since they\'ve been banning and burning books on Dark Marks like crazy... stupid fear mongering, that\'s what it is... speaking of which, I will need full borrowing privileges, Professor-level access, can you pull some strings for me? Of course you can. But now I need to lie down.”



“I\'ll transfigure the table into a couch,” Harry said.



“I am not sleeping on your dining table,” she snapped indignantly.



“Well, I suppose there\'s always Draco\'s bed,” Harry said, and Draco couldn\'t help but smile at the thought.



“I\'m coming with you.”



“That\'s not such a great idea,” Harry growled, but Hermione apparently ignored him.



Draco heard them go into Harry\'s bedroom together, and collapse on the bed.



“Take your shirt off,” Hermione asked faintly.



“Don\'t. Just let me be.”



A long pause followed, and then Draco heard Hermione speak again:



“Harry. Why Ron?”



“What?” Harry asked, startled.



“We\'ve lost so much... so many deaths. So much has changed. But Ron\'s death is eating away at you like nothing else. Tell me why.”



“I think Ron\'s death is how it all started,” Harry said reluctantly. “When he died, it threw everything off balance.”



It appeared that Hermione thought about it silently. “Explain,” she said finally.



“I can\'t. It\'s just something I feel in my gut. All those prophecies, and tasks, and quests... they were never just about me, no matter what everyone said. It was always supposed to be the three of us. When Ron died... it all went awry somehow. I can\'t explain it, or prove it. But I can\'t stop thinking about it either. What if Ron were alive? Maybe we wouldn\'t have lost Godric\'s sword in the pond. Maybe Neville would still be alive. Hell, maybe even Snape would still be alive. And maybe Voldemort would be dead, rather than... well.. you know.”



“Harry,” Hermione intoned softly. “You can\'t afford to think this way. You will drive yourself insane with maybes, what-ifs and might-have-beens.”



“It\'s all I have left,” Harry whispered, “Now that I\'ve poisoned us all.” His words were barely audible, but Draco had heard them nonetheless.



Hermione must have touched Harry\'s face, because she exclaimed with a start in her voice,



“Harry! Your cheeks... you are burning up!”



“It\'s okay, Hermione,” Harry\'s soft voice answered. “Just let me burn.”



Nothing further was said. Draco finally drifted off to sleep, as the shadows thickened around him.