The Lion and the Serpent
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
47
Views:
39,282
Reviews:
227
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
47
Views:
39,282
Reviews:
227
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Smiling in the Dark
Calixa knocked on the door not even five minutes after Harry left. She must have been hanging around outside of Harry's quarters, Draco thought.
"Did I get you in trouble the other day?" she asked hesitantly, still standing in the doorway.
Draco shrugged. "It was worth it. I got slapped, that was all."
She winced a little. "Want to go to my dorm?" she offered. “I have roommates, but...”
"No. He said you could visit today. Come in."
The lay on Draco's bed together, their hands touching a little.
"I am disappearing," he said suddenly.
Her hand squeezed his fingers. "I won't let you," she promised.
He turned around and buried his face in her shoulder. Her hands caressed his back, kneading his neck, caressing his aching muscles.
"What has he done to you?" she asked.
"Nothing," Draco said. It did not feel like a lie. Nothing was all he had left. There was no pain, no damage - only a void inside him, and a lonely memory that stood against his whole, intact body. He could easily dismissed the memory as a bad dream, if not for the traces of blood, still caked on his thighs, under his clothing.
Calixa looked at him.
"That bad?" she murmured.
"Yeah."
They were quiet for a moment. Then Draco spoke again, hesitantly:
"I know you want me to fight... and you probably have something big going on that you want me to be a part of. I don't know about that, Cali. I am too scared, too weak... and so tired of being hurt. And it's probably too late now, anyways."
"Too late?" she repeated, a question in her voice.
"He owns my mark," Draco said. "Long story... but... anyways. It belongs to him now. As if just having the bond wasn't enough..."
Her arms encircled him, holding him. "It's never too late, Draco," she said softly. “No matter what.”
He laughed sadly and allowed her to hold him.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
"You saved my life,” he said, shuddering at the memory. “So... what would you have me to do?”
“Just rest a little,” she said. “Don't worry about anything just yet. I will let you know when it's time. I promise.”
He drifted off to sleep, her arms still holding him.
When he woke up, it was dark. Calixa's arms were still around him, her lips pressed to his forehead.
“How long did I sleep?” he asked, and felt her stir.
“Not that long,” she said.
“What time is it?”
“Six in the evening.”
“You are kidding? I've spent the day in bed?”
She laughed a little and released him from her embrace. “I could think of worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon than in bed with you,” she said, an impish grin on her face. He smiled back at her gratefully.
“You should smile more,” Calixa said, looking at him serenely. “It suits you.”
“Smile more? In case you haven't noticed, my current situation doesn't naturally invite smiling.”
“Why not?” Calixa asked seriously, sitting up on the bed. “What else have you got to lose?”
He looked at her startled, not knowing what to say.
“Let me read you something,” she said. “Don't argue, don't interrupt. Just listen.”
Her voice rang through Harry's quarters, as she quoted from memory:
I will not go down under the ground
Because somebody tells me that death's coming 'round
And I will not carry myself down to die
When I go to my grave my head will be high,
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Calixa's finger pressed against his lips. With determination in her voice, she continued:
There's been rumors of war and wars that have been
The meaning of the life has been lost in the wind
And some people thinking that the end is close by
Instead of learning to live they are learning to die.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
I don't know if I'm smart but I think I can see
When someone is pulling the wool over me
And if this war comes and death's all around
Let me die on this land before I die underground.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
Transfixed with terror, Draco listened to her haunting voice. Somehow, even the mere act of listening to the poem brought the word 'disloyalty' to his mind, and he swore inwardly.
Let me drink from the waters where the mountain streams flood
Let me smell of wildflowers flow free through my blood
Let me sleep in your meadows with the green grassy leaves
Let me walk down the highway with my brother in peace.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
He glared at her. “Where did you find this ridiculous piece of nonsense! And Harry will probably kill me just for listening to it. Why did you read it to me? So you can watch me die?”
Calixa glared back at him.
“I am watching you die, Draco,” she said bluntly.
“So you just want me to go with - my head held high?” he asked, his anger dissipating.
“Only if that's what you want for yourself,” Calixa said, standing up. “Good night, Draco.”
When she left, Draco collapsed back on the bed. Lying in the dark, he smiled, as Calixa's melodic voice still echoed in his memory.
He heard Hermione and Harry return together. He heard them set the table in silence, apart from the brief spells required. Slowly and luxuriously, he stretched, and walked out into the living room.
Without waiting for an invitation, Draco sat himself down at the dinner table. Harry acknowledged him with a curt nod. Hermione sat, with her head bowed, avoiding looking at him. Her fingers crumbled the piece of pastry she had put on her plate. Draco stared at her intently, and saw tears falling from her eyes.
The tension around the table was almost palpable.
Draco took a deep breath.
“Hey Granger,” he whispered conspiratorially. “When you are done weeping over the fact that your research may have saved my life... do you suppose you could pass the butter?”
Her head shot up, and she looked at him: stunned, relieved, grateful - he saw it all in her eyes.
“No problem,” she said, smiling through the tears. And then, a brief improvised spell later, a glob of butter landed on Draco's face.
Draco retaliated instantly, levitating the wrecked pastry from her plate into her hair. Hermione stared at him with mock indignation, and then they both burst out laughing.
Even Harry smiled a little.
But the smile did not reach his eyes.
------------ To
"Did I get you in trouble the other day?" she asked hesitantly, still standing in the doorway.
Draco shrugged. "It was worth it. I got slapped, that was all."
She winced a little. "Want to go to my dorm?" she offered. “I have roommates, but...”
"No. He said you could visit today. Come in."
The lay on Draco's bed together, their hands touching a little.
"I am disappearing," he said suddenly.
Her hand squeezed his fingers. "I won't let you," she promised.
He turned around and buried his face in her shoulder. Her hands caressed his back, kneading his neck, caressing his aching muscles.
"What has he done to you?" she asked.
"Nothing," Draco said. It did not feel like a lie. Nothing was all he had left. There was no pain, no damage - only a void inside him, and a lonely memory that stood against his whole, intact body. He could easily dismissed the memory as a bad dream, if not for the traces of blood, still caked on his thighs, under his clothing.
Calixa looked at him.
"That bad?" she murmured.
"Yeah."
They were quiet for a moment. Then Draco spoke again, hesitantly:
"I know you want me to fight... and you probably have something big going on that you want me to be a part of. I don't know about that, Cali. I am too scared, too weak... and so tired of being hurt. And it's probably too late now, anyways."
"Too late?" she repeated, a question in her voice.
"He owns my mark," Draco said. "Long story... but... anyways. It belongs to him now. As if just having the bond wasn't enough..."
Her arms encircled him, holding him. "It's never too late, Draco," she said softly. “No matter what.”
He laughed sadly and allowed her to hold him.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
"You saved my life,” he said, shuddering at the memory. “So... what would you have me to do?”
“Just rest a little,” she said. “Don't worry about anything just yet. I will let you know when it's time. I promise.”
He drifted off to sleep, her arms still holding him.
When he woke up, it was dark. Calixa's arms were still around him, her lips pressed to his forehead.
“How long did I sleep?” he asked, and felt her stir.
“Not that long,” she said.
“What time is it?”
“Six in the evening.”
“You are kidding? I've spent the day in bed?”
She laughed a little and released him from her embrace. “I could think of worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon than in bed with you,” she said, an impish grin on her face. He smiled back at her gratefully.
“You should smile more,” Calixa said, looking at him serenely. “It suits you.”
“Smile more? In case you haven't noticed, my current situation doesn't naturally invite smiling.”
“Why not?” Calixa asked seriously, sitting up on the bed. “What else have you got to lose?”
He looked at her startled, not knowing what to say.
“Let me read you something,” she said. “Don't argue, don't interrupt. Just listen.”
Her voice rang through Harry's quarters, as she quoted from memory:
I will not go down under the ground
Because somebody tells me that death's coming 'round
And I will not carry myself down to die
When I go to my grave my head will be high,
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Calixa's finger pressed against his lips. With determination in her voice, she continued:
There's been rumors of war and wars that have been
The meaning of the life has been lost in the wind
And some people thinking that the end is close by
Instead of learning to live they are learning to die.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
I don't know if I'm smart but I think I can see
When someone is pulling the wool over me
And if this war comes and death's all around
Let me die on this land before I die underground.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
Transfixed with terror, Draco listened to her haunting voice. Somehow, even the mere act of listening to the poem brought the word 'disloyalty' to his mind, and he swore inwardly.
Let me drink from the waters where the mountain streams flood
Let me smell of wildflowers flow free through my blood
Let me sleep in your meadows with the green grassy leaves
Let me walk down the highway with my brother in peace.
Let me die in my footsteps
Before I go down under the ground.
He glared at her. “Where did you find this ridiculous piece of nonsense! And Harry will probably kill me just for listening to it. Why did you read it to me? So you can watch me die?”
Calixa glared back at him.
“I am watching you die, Draco,” she said bluntly.
“So you just want me to go with - my head held high?” he asked, his anger dissipating.
“Only if that's what you want for yourself,” Calixa said, standing up. “Good night, Draco.”
When she left, Draco collapsed back on the bed. Lying in the dark, he smiled, as Calixa's melodic voice still echoed in his memory.
He heard Hermione and Harry return together. He heard them set the table in silence, apart from the brief spells required. Slowly and luxuriously, he stretched, and walked out into the living room.
Without waiting for an invitation, Draco sat himself down at the dinner table. Harry acknowledged him with a curt nod. Hermione sat, with her head bowed, avoiding looking at him. Her fingers crumbled the piece of pastry she had put on her plate. Draco stared at her intently, and saw tears falling from her eyes.
The tension around the table was almost palpable.
Draco took a deep breath.
“Hey Granger,” he whispered conspiratorially. “When you are done weeping over the fact that your research may have saved my life... do you suppose you could pass the butter?”
Her head shot up, and she looked at him: stunned, relieved, grateful - he saw it all in her eyes.
“No problem,” she said, smiling through the tears. And then, a brief improvised spell later, a glob of butter landed on Draco's face.
Draco retaliated instantly, levitating the wrecked pastry from her plate into her hair. Hermione stared at him with mock indignation, and then they both burst out laughing.
Even Harry smiled a little.
But the smile did not reach his eyes.
------------ To