The Lion and the Serpent

From the shadows of the owlery, others stepped out as well. There were a few upper-year Gryffindor students, with their wands drawn, ready to sprint into action. There was Argus Filch, ever-present during any and every school emergency. And there was the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, her arms crossed on her chest, her face grim and stern.



“All Slytherin students shall exit the owlery in an organized manner, in a single file. Surrender your wands to the Headmistress,” Harry commanded. “Form a line along the wall in the hallway.”



One by one, the students relinquished their wands, and stood in the hallway just outside of the owlery, lined up along the wall. Hesitantly, Draco moved to join with them, but Harry\'s hand stopped him.



“I will deal with you later,” he said coldly. Draco stepped aside quietly.



The students stood together, not daring to look up, barely daring to breathe. Harry stared at them darkly.



“Idiot children,” he said finally, cold fury in his voice. “Running around, plotting to assassinate their teacher. Imagining themselves to know better than their elders. What do you think this is? Some kind of game?”



Silence answered him, as the students gazed down, studying the floor.



“As of now, all Slytherin students are restricted from leaving the school building for any reason, including sports practices, outings, or field trips. The nine of you can consider yourselves under house arrest, until the end of the academic year. Your movements will be restricted to classrooms, restrooms, the dining hall, the school infirmary, and your own dormitories. You will be wearing monitoring anklets that will have spells and wards placed on them, to physically restrict you from deviating from your prescribed activities. Any questions?”



The students shook their hands silently. One lone hand shot up in the air.



“Miss Cain,” Harry said, his lips forming a faint, unfriendly smile. “Why am I not surprised?”



“How are we supposed to pass the practical portions of our classes without the wands?” she asked sullenly.



“Perhaps you should have thought of it before forming this little Resistance group of yours,” Harry said flatly. “I have no doubt that you will all require remedial classes throughout the summer, in order to avoid being held back a year.”



She gave a reluctantly acquiescent nod.



The Headmistress spoke finally, her voice trembling just a bit:



“Mr. Filch will place the monitoring anklets on you. If you attempt to remove, damage, hex, or transfigure those anklets, in fact, if you as much as breathe upon them, you may consider yourselves as good as expelled, and I will ensure that you are tried for your crime as adults. On a personal note, I am deeply disappointed in all of you. I am disappointed because you all seem to believe the worst of the one person who already sacrificed so much for your sake. Dismissed.”





Sielntly and sullenly, the Slytherin students headed towards Filch\'s office, accompanied by the Gryffindors, who still had their wands drawn.



Minerva nodded sadly to Harry and walked away.



“Let\'s go home,” Harry told Draco.



They walked out of the West Tower together. The gush of cold wind blew in their faces, and Draco paused briefly, staring at the dark grey clouds gathered above them.



“You knew,” Draco said. “How? Did you notice the gaps in my memories? Did you monitor the conversations in my bedroom? Did you track my movements throughout the school?”



“All of the above, of course.”



They continued walking.



Draco\'s eyes widened as he stared at Harry, a sudden realization dawning on him.



“You knew Calixa was up to something,” he whispered dejectedly. “You\'ve encouraged me to see her... just so that she would make her move, and you could apprehend her... and her group.”



“I would think you should be used to being instrumental in apprehending students belonging to secret societies,” Harry said dryly.



“Yeah. I just thought...” Draco whispered miserably. “Never mind.”



“What did you think?” Harry asked casually, as they walked towards his quarters.



“That you encouraged me to see her so that I would have something human.. something real in my life,” Draco said. “Some sort of kindness, connection. But no. You were only using me.”



“Just as I said I would,” Harry reminded him unapologetically. “You should know by now that I do not lie.”



Draco nodded slowly, as the deep void inside him stirred again.



When they entered Harry\'s quarters, the familiar lonely figure was there.



“Hermione,” Harry said, sitting down at the table across from her. “How did you know?”



“Minerva firecalled. Are you all right?”



“Fine,” Harry said reassuringly. “Just stupid kids plotting nonsense. Nothing actually happened. You didn\'t need to come out for this.”



“I am glad,” Hermione murmured, genuine relief in her voice. Her glance then fell to Draco\'s lifeless face. “Oh no, Draco.. you got involved somehow?”



Draco nodded wordlessly, avoiding looking at her.



Slowly, without being told, he unbuckled his belt, and pulled it out, setting it on the table in front of Harry. Harry glanced at Draco questioningly.



“Disloyalty,” Draco said breathlessly. “Sir.”



“Not now,” Harry shook his head. “We\'ll deal with it tomorrow. Tomorrow, after classes. Go to bed.”



Draco nodded and went to his bedroom, leaving the belt on the dining table.



From his bedroom, he heard Hermione murmur: “What will you do to him?”



Harry gave no answer to that.



Hermione spoke cautiously, “Harry, I am going to bring something up... something that troubles me a great deal... but in order to do that, I will have to confess something.”



“Let me guess,” Harry said icily. “You snooped around my quarters, you found something, and now you are all guilty and worried, but obviously, more worried than guilty.”



“Harry, your potions cabinet. The supply of numbing potion there is ... well, more than any one person should ever need. Goodness, it\'s enough to make someone forget the pain of Sectumsempra...”



“So what are you saying?” Harry asked defensively. “If you have a question, just spit it out.”



“Draco,” she snapped. “Are you using it on him? You do realize that the numbing potion doesn\'t remove the injuries, it only numbs the pain, temporarily?”



“I have never used it on Draco,” Harry said resentfully. “Go strip him naked and examine him, if you are so worried. He has no permanent injuries from his sojourn with me.”



“Then it\'s for something you are still planning to do....to do to him? And you want him to feel nothing while you do it? Harry, you have no idea how scared I am right now.”



In his bedroom, Draco forgot how to breathe. His fingers dug into the pillow, as he stilled himself against the terror. He was an idiot to think he would get away with a whipping.



When Harry finally answered Hermione, his voice was tired and almost broken:



“Hermione, would you please stop being so dramatic? Look at me. It\'s me. Harry. Not a serial killer with a chainsaw. Hear me. I am not planning to do anything to Draco that will require him to take the numbing potion. I didn\'t get it for him. You know that I don\'t lie.”



Hermione muttered something, still unconvinced. “Swear to me,” she demanded.



“I swear,” Harry said firmly. “On the memory of my parents, on the memory of Ron Weasley, on the memory of Neville Longbottom, on the memory of Albus Dumbledore, and on the memory of Severus Snape, I swear.”



“Fine,” Hermione muttered. “What is it for then?”



“It\'s for the war!” Harry exploded in anger, and Draco heard his fist slam against the table. “In case you haven\'t realized, horrible things will happen, probably to all of us. And when they do, we will need to keep going. No matter the pain, or the damage! And I need to ... have at least one person who\'s got my back! Who is going to stand by me, and not try to kill me before I dispatch Voldemort!”



“I am sorry,” Hermione murmured contritely. “What a night for you... First the students, and Draco... then me... Oh, Harry... Are you sure.. you are all right?”



“Like I said, it was nothing,” Harry said tiredly. “I just needed to put an end to this idiotic Resistance game of theirs. I can\'t have dumb kids running around, supposedly trying to stop the evil Professor from taking over the world.”



His voice softened just a little, and he continued;



“It\'s not supposed to be this way, you know. They should be obeying their elders, studying, and following the rules, not imagining that every Professor who takes points from their House is Voldemort\'s henchman. War is no place for children.”



“Nonsense, Harry,” Hermione said firmly. “What about us? We have been fighting Voldemort since we were old enough to levitate a feather...”



“Yes,” Harry cut her off flatly. “And look where it got us.”



------------------------------------------------to be continued



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