The Lion and the Serpent

In the morning, Draco stuck his head out of the bedroom. Hermione had gone home already, and Harry was packing his books into his old canvass shoulder bag.



“Breakfast?” Harry said absently.



“Please,” Draco agreed, and moved himself to the table that was already set.



Harry sat down as well, and they ate together in silence. Finally, Draco said cautiously,



“Sir? I have been wondering. About the school this year, I mean. I\'ve missed too many classes already ... and to be honest, I can\'t even bring myself to consider attending classes again.”



Harry nodded. “You wish to withdraw?”



“I do, although I am quite sure I\'ve missed the deadline.”



“I will look into it,” Harry said simply. “With my support, it shouldn\'t be a problem.”



“Thank you,” Draco said sincerely, feeling like an enormous weight was lifted off his shoulders. The thought that he was supposed to be studying, learning, passing, taking exams, had been gnawing at him constantly. It was a relief to finally admit to himself that there was no way he would catch up this year.



Harry\'s curt nod was all the acknowledgment he got. Draco glanced cautiously at Harry\'s distant face, and felt the lonely, deep stirring inside him reawaken again.



“Sir,” Draco spoke again suddenly. “I\'m wondering if there\'s anything I can do for you around here.”



“Hmm?” Draco\'s question seemed to have caught Harry off-guard. “Like what?”



Draco shrugged. “I don\'t know. Anything, I guess. Catalog scrolls. Help with grading papers, if you have the answer key. Whatever.”



Harry glanced at him with curiosity.



“Is it the bond?” he asked. “Urging you to be... of service?”



Draco glared defensively.



“No. Maybe. I don\'t know,” he admitted. “I think I just want to... find some kind of normalcy when I am with you.”



Harry\'s eyes narrowed and Draco wondered if he had said something wrong.



“I am going to be very straightforward with you, Draco,” Harry said coldly. “You are a bond-slave. Until a day comes when I no longer need you, your life in my household will consist of being controlled, punished and used. Normalcy isn\'t in the picture, and I don\'t recommend that you pretend otherwise.”



Draco bit his lip. The lonely void inside him grew, threatening to consume him.



“Fine, forget normalcy then,” he said resignedly. “Look – all I want is to do something human. Is this too much to ask?”



“You are still not telling me what it is that you want to do,” Harry said. “You can\'t create work for me by asking me come up with assignments for you to make you feel better. If there is anything specific you want to do, request it.”



“Let me set the table for when you come home,” Draco blurted out.



Harry stared at him in disbelief. “You are a dimwit, Malfoy,” he said finally, but there was no anger in his voice. Harry left without saying another word. Draco stayed seated, wondering whether something significant had just taken place.



Later that morning, he went for a walk around the school. This time he was ignored completely. He felt like a ghost, still both a part of the school, and out of place at the same time. He walked past the classrooms, hearing every word, every whisper, every strike of the quill.



“Winguardium Leviosa!” he heard voices of first-year students say in a chorus. He glanced through the door that was slightly ajar, and saw a fleet of feathers, levitating over the children\'s desks. They were getting quite good at that, Draco thought wistfully.



The bell rang, and Draco stood aside, watching the students at recess. Outside of the classrooms, things were different, he realized, as he observed the students from the different houses. The Gryffindors, now unofficially known as the Harry Potter\'s House, were powerful, rude, loud, proud, and angry. Their movements and voices were chaotic and unpredictable; and from that chaos, small gang-like formations emerged unexpectedly and swarmed younger students. Usually Slytherin.



Slytherin students offered no resistance. The fear and hatred were still there, intense as ever, but the Slytherin knew when to back out of a losing battle and count their losses. Right now, they were still counting.



The vindictiveness of the Gryffindor was not surprising, Draco thought grimly. During the last battle, many (if not most) Slytherin students supported Voldemort. Only Gryffindor, and a select few from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, fought on the side of Light. There was no question in Draco\'s mind that if the situations were reversed, Slytherin would not show any mercy to Gryffindor either. In fact, there might not be a House of Gryffindor left at all.



There would still be Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, of course. But even those Houses have changed. The Hufflepuff faithfulness, work ethic and perseverance were turned into stubborn loyalty to whoever had the most power. Ravenclaw\'s creative wisdom was transformed into an unfeeling logical acceptance of the status quo.



Eventually when Draco grew tired of walking and watching, he returned to Harry\'s quarters. He pulled out the tablecloth, and set the table. He waited silently until he heard Harry\'s footsteps in the hallway. With a flick of his wand, he uttered a brief spell, and the food sprang into existence, with aroma filling the room. And then, a playfully wicked thought crossed his mind, and Draco added a single lit candle in the center of the table.



Harry entered the quarters and Draco took his bag from him, setting it gently on the floor.



Harry\'s lips quivered into a contemptuous smile.



“Candlelight dinner, Malfoy? Are you trying to romance me?”



Draco matched his smile, and tone of voice exactly:



“Well, I thought if I am to be the new Dark Lord\'s whore, I\'d better do it right.”



Harry stared into his eyes intently. “Are you trying to make me angry?” he demanded.



“I think so,” Draco said honestly. The walk through the school, and watching the students had drained him completely, and the deep needy longing was stirring within him again. It intensified when he remembered Harry\'s calming hand on his lower back, just touching him, without malice or hurt, just before the unthinkable happened. Draco shook his head, trying to banish the memory.



“It won\'t work,” Harry said bluntly. “I took two doses of calming draught before coming home. You could piss on my parents\' grave, and it wouldn\'t anger me.”



“Damn it,” Draco muttered, and Harry chuckled, amused.



They ate quietly.



“How was school?” Draco asked hesitantly.



“Terrible. Retards and dimwits, all of them.”



“Oh. Right.”



“And how is the formidable Miss Cain?” Harry asked.



Draco smiled. “She\'s... wonderful,” he admitted dreamily.



“Did you see her today?”



“No. She has classes, you know.”



“I know. She skipped mine, to my utter shock. You didn\'t see her?”



“No. I just walked around the school. That\'s all.”



“Maybe you should go pay her a visit,” Harry suggested idly.



“I ... Sir? If you permit.”



“You don\'t need my permission for that,” Harry said. “You may come and go as you please. If I need you, I will summon you.”



Draco shifted uncomfortably.



“Don\'t fidget,” Harry admonished him. “You want to go to her right now, don\'t you?”



Draco nodded vigorously.



“Go.”



Draco did not need to be told twice.



........................... TO BE CONTINUED ...............................