The Lion and the Serpent

Later that afternoon, they all sat down at the round table to eat. The conversations were quiet and subdued, and everyone was carefully avoiding the obvious thing that was on everyone\'s mind. Finally, when the meal was coming to an end, and the tension became almost unbearable, Minerva broke the silence.



“Harry.. perhaps it\'s time for you to let us know what you\'d like us to do.”



Curious, Draco looked around the table. All eyes were turned to Harry, looking at him expectantly.



“Of course,” Harry said and placed a heap on the table. One one, all of the Unforgiven took their wands back.



Quickly, and decisively, Harry separated the students into two groups. Group One consisted of only Calixa, Rockford, and Kaige, whom Harry placed in charge. Their task was to master the use of the Phoenix Rod, and practice Apparition and Disapparition.



Kaige nodded seriously. “Would you like me to teach them how to Apparate... inconspicuously?”



“Please,” Harry said.



Group Two was everyone else, except for Locke. They were instructed to practice Protego and other shielding spells, learning how to focus their energies together. The end goal was to be able to create an impenetrable magical barrier, and make it hold, for as long as possible.



Locke was given a book on Magical Forest Creatures, with chapters on sentient beings bookmarked helpfully. Locke glanced at Harry, slightly surprised, but simply nodded his agreement.



“Myself, Hermione and Minerva will be taking turns tutoring each group,” Harry said. “Any questions?”



They shook their heads somberly.



Draco watched Hermione as a cautious smile appeared on her lips.



“It\'s like Dumbledore\'s Army, all over,” she whispered to him. “It\'s kind of exciting, in a way.”



“There is one more thing,” Harry said finally, commanding everyone\'s attention again. “You will need a way to exchange information over distance, without the communications being intercepted. There\'s a way, of course...”



They looked at him questioningly, but it was Calixa who had caught on, and supplied the explanation:



“Dark Marks can be used as a way to communicate. You want to conjure a Mark on each of us....Your Mark. Then we will be able to communicate with you, and each other. Undetected by everyone else.”



Harry nodded curtly.



Calixa glanced at Draco questioningly. “What do you think?” she asked , her voice slightly shaken, and unusually vulnerable.



Draco gazed at her, surprised that she asked his opinion. “I think it\'s a good idea,” he said sincerely. “And I think you know by now that you can trust him.”



“Well... In for a knut, in for a galleon,” Calixa said resignedly. “But it better not be a goddamn Gryffindor lion,” she added ominously.



Harry laughed, as if in spite of himself. “Miss Cain, such vanity... The world might be about to end, and you care about the design of your mark?”



The girl shrugged again. “Just because I\'m becoming the Dark Lord\'s pawn, doesn\'t mean I don\'t want to look good,” she said with a smirk. “Serpentine design, please.”



“When she\'s done, I want a toad,” Locke said quietly, sprawled on the floor, paging through the book.



Other requests poured in:



“I would like a wolf!”



“A cat!”



“Constellation...”



“Enough!” Harry growled. “I am a Dark Wizard, not a tattoo artist.”



For some reason, that statement only seemed to encourage more mirth and amusement.



Harry growled again, but Hermione circled around Harry and placed her hand on his shoulder.



“Let them have some fun,” she whispered. “It\'s good for the morale.”



Eventually, the laughter died down, and everyone gazed at Harry again. His face was impassive, unreadable.



Draco watched, in utter shock, as Calixa was the first one to stand up. She came up to Harry, rolled up her sleeve silently, and offered her forearm to him.



Harry pointed his wand at her and a stream of magical energy poured forth, binding to Calixa\'s arm, and birthing the image of a coiled snake on her skin. She winced slightly, but stood still.



One after one, the students came to him, extending their arms. Draco watched the procession quietly.



He was surprised at how quickly the students accepted the situation, and complied with everything that was requested or even suggested. Then again, perhaps it shouldn\'t have surprised him. “Little Dracos” Hermione had called them. The Unforgiven. Of course they would take the Dark Mark, he thought, in exchange for attention, protection, and acceptance.



Kaige was the last one to stand before her teacher. She looked at the rest of the students doubtfully.



“What if we fail?”



“What have you got to lose?” Calixa said softly.



Kaige rose an eyebrow. “Nothing,” she admitted. “They call us the Unforgiven for a reason.”



When it was over, unbidden, the teenagers broke into groups, and started practicing. Locke sprawled on the floor again, and paged through the volume absently. Minerva sat down next to Locke, and they started talking quietly. Draco couldn\'t tell what the conversation was about, and he tried not to think how much Locke reminded him of Ron Weasley.



“Hermione,” Draco heard Harry call out softly.



“No,” she murmured, her back turned to Harry.



“Come with me,” Harry said firmly, and Draco saw that his voice, even quiet and soft, still had the power to subdue her. Quietly, unnoticed by everyone else, Hermione and Draco followed him into the privacy of his bedroom.



Hermione stood right by the door, staring at Harry questioningly. Draco sat on the bed, hugging his knees, listening.



“You too, Hermione,” Harry said gently, turning to face her. “No more kidding around. It\'s time. I will need you.”



She shook her head. “No Mark. I\'ve told you this before, Harry. I will help you as much as I can. .but I don\'t do this.”



He stared at her severely, his arms crossed on his chest.



“I don\'t use Dark Magic,” she said patiently. “I don\'t use the Unforgivables. I don\'t do the other things that you do. I\'m not like you.”



Quickly, Harry cast a silencing charm on their door. He then laughed briefly, but his laughter was brief and joyless.



“You think you are better than me,” he said coolly.



Hermione held her ground. “Harry...I don\'t walk the line. I have made my choice. I know where I belong. I can never be like you.”



“You really think you are innocent...” Harry whispered, the disdainful wonder in his voice sending shivers down Draco\'s spine. Harry\'s hand clasped around Hermione\'s throat, holding her firmly in place.



She tried looking away, but his fingers held her. “What do you mean?” she stammered.



Harry continued quietly:



“You really think you somehow different because you are not the one who owns the bond? Hermione, dear... You accepted Draco\'s enslavement the moment you learned it would give us an advantage. You are the one who convinced me to whip him, rape him...”



“I did no such thing,” she snapped. “I gave you options. Other options.”



She fell silent when Harry\'s hand clenched around her throat slightly.



“Enough!” Draco cried out shrilly, bolting off the bed, his fingers clasping around Harry\'s arm. “Leave her alone.”



“Back off,” Harry spat furiously, and Draco felt anger and fear surge through him like an electric current.



“You are just like me, Hermione,” Harry said flatly. “You knew I would rape him. And you still showed me everything I needed to know... you are no different. Through all of this, you were my right hand, my loyal helper... my muse.”



Hermione stared at Harry weakly, her face growing pale. Draco saw that she struggled to speak, but words would not come out. And then, without even stopping to think, Draco swung and punched Harry in the face, hard.



Harry\'s hold on Hermione broken, she moved away instantly, and positioned herself between Harry and Draco.



His hands pressing against his nose, blood trickling down his fingers, Harry muttered something.



Hermione waited patiently for Harry to wipe the blood off his face, and heal himself. Before Harry could say anything else, Hermione addressed him:



“You are right, Harry, of course,” she said tiredly. There was a brokenness in her voice. “Fine. Do it now. Before I change my mind.”



Instantly, Harry pointed his wand at her, and a small mark burned into her skin. She stared sadly at the design: a small black circle.



“Minimalistic, as always,” she said with a faint smile. “That\'s so you.”



Harry shrugged. “Who cares? It\'s only for a few days....after I am dead, any healer will be able to remove it.”



“Harry... what if something goes wrong?” she asked softly. “What if you... don\'t die. What if you just... become the Dark Lord, and continue to live? And I will be left with your Dark Mark...”



“Then - every day, I will call to you. The Dark will speak to you. And you will have to fight it,” Harry said bluntly. “Every day of your life. Just like Snape did.”



And like I do, the unspoken words hung in the air.



Hermione nodded. “I\'m taking Draco with me tonight,” she said. “I won\'t have you beating him for trying to protect me. Tomorrow we\'ll figure out a punishment that does not involve anything... medieval.”



“If he wants to go with you, he can,” Harry agreed easily.



Hermione stared at Draco plaintively. Stubbornly, Draco shook his head.



“Why?” Hermione whispered.



When Draco answered, his voice was firm and clear:



“Because this is where I belong.”



------- To Be Continued ---------------------------------------------



Author\'s Note: Please let me know ... I\'m not entirely happy with the chapter, but I am sick of re-writing it, and I just want to go on with the story. I\'m very eager to complete it. The way I am planning things, there are only 4 chapters left until the final crisis.