The Lion and the Serpent

Exhausted, drained, Draco had slept through the night, and most of the afternoon.



He was awakened by the sound of Harry opening the door to his quarters. He heard Harry set his shoulder bag on the table. Draco sighed deeply. It was time.



He got out of bed, washed up, and got dressed before he entered the living room. Harry sat, waiting for him, the belt still lying on the table.



“I... how do you want me?” Draco asked quietly, standing before Harry.



“Sit down, Draco,” Harry pointed at the chair. Draco sat, with his head bowed.



“Back at the owlery... How much have you heard?” Draco asked abjectly.



“Everything,” Harry said. “That\'s why I am not ... entirely displeased.”



“But, Sir – disloyalty...” Draco mumbled. “I\'ve ...”



“You\'ve contemplated it. You\'ve considered it. And in the end, you haven\'t done anything. In fact, you haven\'t even told them about my Mark, which I will admit, surprised me.”



Draco smiled a little. “You are not angry?” he asked cautiously.



“No. Contemplating disloyalty and committing it are not the same. You may find this difficult to believe, but I don\'t need your asinine devotion. I don\'t need you cringing in fear every time you read a poem, or listen to deranged seditious mutterings of a fifteen-ear-old child. I just need you to obey me and come through for me in the end. In exchange, as I had said before, I will help you maximize your chances of survival.”



Draco stared at him, at once terrified and reassured; reassured by the unexpected absolution he had just received, and terrified by Harry\'s usual unfeeling coldness. Instinctively, without thinking, Draco reached out and touched Harry\'s fingers. Harry\'s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he slapped Draco\'s hand away.



“Stop that,” Harry hissed. “When you came to my office that day, you didn\'t come asking me for sympathy, or forgiveness, or redemption. You asked me to help you survive. That\'s what you are getting.”



Draco withdrew his hand, and lowered his eyes. “Very well, Sir,” he whispered. “I just wanted...”



Harry moved like a lightning. His finger hooked into the ring on the back of Draco\'s collar and pulled. Draco leaned back, gulping, as his breathing became constricted, with the metal pressing against his throat.



“Perhaps we both need to to see what it is that you really want,” Harry said. “Not the bond, not the mark – you. You will come with me.”



Without a further warning, Harry Apparated them into a large deserted hallway. A giant mirror hung on the wall, with a delicate script going along the edge of it.



“The Mirror of Erised,” Draco whispered. “It\'s driven many people insane.”



“I brought you here for a reason,” Harry said. “The Mirror will show you the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart. You need to see what you want: not what your parents taught you, not what the bond urges, not what the Mark requires, and not even what you fantasize about when you lie awake at night. You need to see beyond your thoughts, and beyond your emotions. You need to see what is at the core of you. And I think we both know what it is, Draco, don\'t we? Desire to survive.”



Draco shook his head and shut his eyes, but Harry\'s hand steadied him in front of the Mirror.



“Open your eyes,” Harry commanded. “Open your eyes, and look.”



Draco opened his eyes reluctantly, and looked. It was as if he\'d finally stepped into the void that had been threatening to consume him.



The shadows moved, coalesced, to form a faint image that shuddered and shimmered elusively. Draco stared intently, until he recognized himself. The image grew, clarified, filling the entire expanse of the Mirror. Draco looked at it, even as his heart ached from knowing how unattainable it was. He stretched out his hand to the Mirror, and his fingertips brushed against it. The vision lingered, in a haze, so painfully close, and forever untouchable.



Harry\'s eyes were focused on him, and Draco knew that Harry could see the image as well. Not daring to turn his head and face Harry, Draco kept gazing into the Mirror, trying to commit every detail of the dim, haunting vision to memory.



“Draco,” Harry said finally. “No.”



“Sir - what did you think I would see here?” Draco asked, despair building in his voice. “Me and Calixa getting married? You and Granger chained in some dungeon?”



“The latter, perhaps,” Harry said reluctantly. “Certainly, not ... this.”



Draco shrugged indifferently and continued looking into the Mirror.



In the reflection that he saw, there were just the two of them. The world seemed to have disappeared around them. The vision looked like something that had been painted and depicted throughout human history myriads of times: it was the image of a prodigal son returning home. Draco was kneeling in front of Harry, leaning against him. Harry\'s hands were on his head, offering comfort, acceptance and forgiveness.



Heavy silence hung between them.



“I am sorry, Sir,” Draco said awkwardly. “If I could lie to you, I would have.”



“Goddamn bond,” Harry muttered suddenly.



“No bond,” Draco shook his head, still gazing at the mirror. “You\'ve said it yourself. What the Mirror shows is not about the bond, or the mark. Just the basic human desire.”



“I am sure you have better prospects for comforters than your rapist, or your abuser,” Harry said grimly. “Hermione, Calixa, her entire army of dissidents...”



With great difficulty, Draco turned his gaze away from the mirror and glanced at Harry painfully:



“I don\'t know how to explain it, or even describe it,” he said. “It is as if your anger left a void in me, and nobody else will ever be able to fill it.”



They were silent for a while, Harry\'s face a stern, impassive mask that Draco was so used to by now.



“You don\'t know what you are asking,” Harry said finally. “It\'s madness.”



Draco looked at him quizzically.



“Hard times are ahead,” Harry said simply. “I will have to do some.. difficult things. I will not go into any great detail, but it will be infinitely easier, and safer, if you remain as detached from me, and as un-invested in me on a personal level as possible. It will likely maximize your chances for survival if you simply remain obedient, and keep your distance.”



“What else?” Draco demanded.



“The bond,” Harry spoke reluctantly. “It will grow deeper, if there\'s ... attachment. Hermione says there will be a pull between the marks, too. It can break you.”



“Then break me,” Draco whispered desperately, but Harry stopped him in mid-sentence.



“Back off right now, Malfoy, and don\'t make me hit you. I am trying to keep both of us alive, and I don\'t need to deal with your self-pity, or sniveling, or...”



Wordlessly, Draco sank to his knees, and pressed his head against Harry\'s legs. His arms wrapped around him, and he held on to Harry, with his eyes shut. He expected to be pushed away, but Harry seemed to have frozen in this forced embrace. Draco waited, stunned by what he had done. And then, to his amazement, he felt Harry\'s hand on his head. Harry\'s fingers ran through his hair, parting it, and caressing the top of his head with unparalleled tenderness. Almost forgetting to breathe, Draco fought back his tears, as he found himself melting and dissolving under Harry\'s gentle touch. Tentatively, Draco lifted his hand and touched Harry\'s. Their fingers interlocked, Harry\'s grip desperate, like that of a drowning man grabbing his life-line.



“Damn us both to hell, Draco,” Harry whispered tiredly. “What have I done now?”



But his grasp on Draco\'s hand did not weaken.



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



Author\'s Note: So ... here we are, finally.. some comfort... was it worth the wait? ; ) Drop me a line if you are still reading. Thanks you all !