Redeem Me

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.

Redeem Me…by Samayel

Chapter 32: Dangerous Revelations


Draco sat gobsmacked, past the point of being able to respond. Dumbledore’s painting could be insane…couldn’t it?

’He can’t be. It can’t be. This isn’t happening to me. It’s a dream. Wake up…wake up, Draco! Not real…not real…not real!'

“It…it can’t be. Harry killed him. The body was in the basement of Riddle manor. Harry put a knife through his heart…he has to be dead! What would this have to do with Harry anyway?”

“Draco…you mistake my meaning, though the situation is no less grave. I did not say that Voldemort is alive. He is not alive, but neither is he truly dead, and he is still a danger to us all. Let me explain some of what I know of Tom Riddle, who became Lord Voldemort, and you shall understand what we face.

Tom Riddle was an orphan, the last half-blood scion of the house of Gaunt. There is much that is unknown about his past, but I sought out what was left to others in memory, and passed that learning on to Harry, in the hope that he would better understand his foe. Tom Riddle was a bitter, fearful child, and grew into an implacable and unrelenting young man. He was obsessed with immortality, so that his power, influence, and skill might last forever, rather than fade from history. Many Dark Lords began upon such a path, ultimately corrupted by the quest for eternal life.

Grindelwald was another, though he sought the Philosopher's Stone, instead of crafting Horcruxes. Tom Riddle’s penchant for killing made the Horcrux an easy choice for him. Alas, that choice has led to our current dilemma.

Harry was scarred by Voldemort’s attempt to kill him, and this is known to all, but what few know is that a prophecy had been spoken not long before, with Harry at the center of it. Voldemort had knowledge of a portion of the prophecy, and he knew that the child of James and Lily Potter possessed the power to someday destroy him entirely. He chose to strike first, and ironically, that choice fulfilled the conditions of the prophecy. When he killed James and Lily Potter, their last thoughts were of their infant child, whom they loved above all things. Lily Potter chose to die in the defense of her son, rather than let him be slain and walk away with her own life. Her sacrifice laid a protection upon Harry that lingered his entire life. Love.

Voldemort’s casting of Avada Kedavra was deflected by Harry, even as an infant, and it rebounded upon him, killing Voldemort's physical body. He was left a bodiless spirit, and it was more than a decade before he was able to muster the strength to take form and rise again. This was accomplished only because his soul had been divided into many parts, and each part was a Horcrux, of which we then knew nothing. This is how he remained alive, despite physical death, and came to haunt us all once again.

The prophecy told that Harry would ‘possess a power the Dark Lord knew not’, and I tell you now that that power is love. Harry was born of love, protected by love, and carries in his heart a capacity for love so strong that it could not be extinguished by all that has transpired. That love is a thing that Voldemort cannot, and never will, understand, and love shall be his undoing. Of this I am certain.

But Harry did not defeat him…not truly. A link was forged between Harry and Voldemort on the day that curse rebounded. As vulnerable as Harry was to Voldemort when young, even then, Voldemort was vulnerable to Harry. I do not believe that link was closed. Harry did not repudiate Tom Riddle…he simply killed him. To destroy him forever, Harry’s capacity for love should have been in play. By killing the Dark Lord in rage, with an act of brutality and revenge, Harry may have made it possible for the Dark Lord to form a crude Horcrux, and escape death once again. He must face the last remnant of Tom Riddle with love, or he will not prevail. Only when the link forged between them is broken can Tom Riddle truly die, as he will have no tether left to cling to in this world.

What you have described makes sense of other matters as well. The assaults upon the Weasley family, and the murders of Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger. If Voldemort had some insight into Harry’s potential power to destroy him, he may have targeted those close to Harry, killing them to ensure that Harry had no love or compassion left in him, thereby guaranteeing that, should he fall in battle against Harry, he might still survive, and the prophecy would remain unfulfilled. It would seem that he succeeded.

There are several possibilities. Each must be taken seriously until one is disproved. It is possible to make a living being a Horcrux, but I am unsure if such a thing could be done so quickly, and under such circumstances. Harry himself may be a Horcrux, with a portion of Voldemort’s soul trapped inside of him, spreading its influence as best it can. That would clearly explain Harry’s lust to kill. He may be a blend of both, with Harry clearly dominant, but tainted by Voldemort’s capacity for killing, and lust for power. As long as Harry is dominant, his rage and darker impulses will be channeled into uses that Harry deems acceptable…killing those who wear Voldemort’s Mark. Should the influence of Voldemort’s soul take the lead, he could become a power so terrible as to rock the foundations of our world.

A second possibility is the knife. As an object, and an object used for violence, it would be simpler to use as a vessel, and would easily house the remainder of Voldemort’s soul. Harry’s link to Voldemort through his scar, and the proximity of such a thing, may explain his behavior as well. It would be very hard to separate him from such a device, and if he often kills, I am sure it would play a part in those killings.

Last, it is possible that Harry was simply exposed to too much of Voldemort’s dying soul, and the unbinding of so many Dark enchantments acted like a toxin upon him. Surrounded by so much hatred and murderous rage, it may well have infected Harry, taking root in a soul that was already wearied by war and death, and growing with every killing Harry undertook. No matter the source, it must be stopped.

Draco, I charge you with this task, and I name you the successor to my knowledge of these matters. I entrust to you the task of saving our Harry from himself, or from what dwells within him. Any trace of Voldemort’s spirit must be destroyed, and Harry must have no hatred in his heart when he faces this. Only love can conquer evil completely, and in its absence, evil will prosper and strengthen. Draco, I will do all I can to aid you, but there is one possibility you must acknowledge. If Harry turns utterly to evil, he has the power to become a true Dark Lord in his own right, and his knowledge of Horcruxes makes him an enormous danger. If he is lost to evil, and chooses to kill those who are not wicked, or accumulate power over others at any cost, he must be stopped, and others must know his weaknesses in order to stop him. I hesitate to say he would have to be killed, but he would certainly have to be caught and restrained. If you cannot save him from the Dark, you must arrange his capture, to save his life.

I can offer advice, and I can assure you that Hogwarts' resources are yours if you should need them. I can also recommend to you certain persons that may be of help, if it is necessary to incapacitate Harry, for that is no task for a single wizard, and certainly not for you alone. Take heart, for there is much good in Harry, and if as you say, he shows much of his true self, then he is far from lost. I only warn of the possibility, that you know well in advance what may be necessary, and know what signs to look for.”

Fawkes fluttered into the room, landing on the perch by the desk, then flapped his wings and fanned his tail feathers out, allowing a single one to drop. Draco picked up the nearly foot long gold and red feather, and stared at it in amazement.

“I congratulate you, Draco. Fawkes but rarely surrenders his plumage, and he does so only when in the presence of the pure of heart and intention, and only when the need is great. I might mention that such feathers are powerful ingredients to potions…as well as potent components for the making of wands. You have been honored.”

Draco smiled and bowed his head to Fawkes, who dipped his beak in return and lifted off from the perch, returning to the other room.

“I…I’m still trying to sort this all out. I’m flattered that you think I can do this, but I’m still not sure how. How do I establish what the truth is, and what would I do once I have? I don’t know.”

“Draco, you defeated a thousand year old system of wards, and engineered a route through them at age sixteen. Do not doubt that you are capable of amazing things. I believe in you, and you have the same capacity to do good and protect others that you once possessed for harming them or belittling them. You have gained a wisdom through hardship that few can claim, and you have survived what would have broken many who called themselves strong.

What I am saying, Draco, is that I am proud of you. I believed in you even then…years ago, and my faith in you has been proven right. Put aside what you have done, and what you have been, and think of what you can be, and what you can do. You are stronger than you know, and a better man than many. Will you undertake this task, and see it through?”

Draco blushed. Dumbledore had never praised him in school, and he’d thought the old man incapable of showering affection or compliments upon any who were not of Gryffindor. The sudden praise made him terribly uncomfortable, but he’d known his answer since long before the question even came.

“Yes. I’ll do it. I’d risk my life for Harry, or Molly. I was willing to risk his anger to get him to stop killing…for Molly’s sake…and for his. Now I’d do it for two reasons. Because the animal who put this Mark on me deserves to die…and because the idea of him hurting Harry even now…it makes me sick. I won’t let it pass. If it takes my life to save him, so be it. I’ll find a way. Thank you. For everything, sir. I might be back…if I need more information, or help, but I hope it doesn’t come to that. At the least, I hope I can see you again when it’s all over.”

The portrait smiled kindly, despite a worried expression that remained, and bowed to Draco from above.

“All our hopes go with you. Harry is dear to many, and he was as beloved to me as a child of my own, when I was alive. I let him face many dangers, in the hope that he would grow strong enough to face what he had to, and I did not survive long enough to protect him from this last peril to his soul. You are our best and brightest hope, Draco. Go with our blessings…and our love.”

Draco stood, feather in hand, and bowed back.

“Good bye, sir. I swear I’ll do my best. I won’t disappoint you again.”

And then he was on the way back to Pomfrey’s offices, head awhirl with newly gained knowledge, trying to make sense of the impossible sounding theories, and terrifying possibilities, that he’d been handed.

‘Oh, Merlin! I’m the best and brightest hope? The wizarding world couldn’t find a better hope than that? We’re screwed! I need help! Badly! Shite…all this is hanging on a fucked-up ponce who can’t sleep without spells and has a crush on someone tainted by the Dark Lord. Gods! Is that why he excites me? Am I so fucking sick that I get horny for a bloke with a chunk of Voldemort lodged in him? This is crazy…this is sooo crazy. BUGGER! Get a grip! One thing at a time. Go home, work on healing and exercise, work on a plan, get a decent night’s sleep. Repeat until world is saved. Got it?’

Molly met Draco at the entrance to Madam Pomfrey’s and reassured Draco that she was in fine health, and the potion was working perfectly. A few spells every now and again as needed and it would be as though nothing was happening to her at all. A touch more gray about the temples maybe, but not a symptom or side effect in sight.

Draco shared his diagnosis as well, letting Molly know that he needed to gain a few more pounds and start exercising, and he thanked her for the rapid improvements he’d made so far. She fussed outrageously that she’d have him fed up as best she could, and praised his determination about setting his best foot forward in a new life. It was still a ticklish subject, and Draco was relieved when she noticed his perpetual blush and let the subject drop.

They returned to the Burrow and set themselves a lunch, sipping a bit of tea and discussing Harry before he got home. For the first time since his arrival, he was forced to deceive Molly, proclaiming that Dumbledore had only provided faint hints at what might ail Harry, and he didn’t dare mention Horcruxes. Dula had been right. Knowledge of such a thing created the danger that it would spread, and ultimately pass into the hands of someone who would use it for ill. The fewer who knew of Horcruxes, the better. Far better that the Weasley household, which already had two people in it burdened by the knowledge, not suffer another, save Draco himself. Now he, Harry, and Ron were the last known living custodians of the events of the war against Voldemort, and no others should be tainted with that knowledge.

This was not the only thing he had to face today. Before long, Harry would be home, and it would be time for a session of scar reduction and removal. There were no places left on Draco that didn’t involve the removal of clothing and the persistent touching of those places by Harry’s calloused fingers. The notion of Harry’s hand stroking his inner thigh made Draco feel complete and utter panic…not to mention a vague, and then more insistent, stiffness in his groin, and no matter what he did, the matter was only going to get more complex. He wanted to be close to Harry, and he needed to get closer to achieve his goal, but he didn’t feel even remotely comfortable enough to start actively pursuing anything romantic.

Draco retreated to his room, and then to the shower, claiming the need to clean up after having a very emotional talk with Dumbledore. It was an acceptable excuse, and also quite true, but his real motive was the need to relieve the tension in his groin, lest Harry notice his ‘tension’ later.

It didn’t take long at all, since visions of touching Harry’s broad, smooth chest flicked through his mind easily now, and when he slid his fingers back, pressing lightly against the muscles just behind his sac, he came to orgasm hard and quick, and bit his lip trying to stifle any noise. It was better than he remembered it being in school. What had seemed a vaguely pleasurable pastime then was becoming a necessity to cope with his daily proximity to Harry.

Draco cleaned himself thoroughly, and found himself primping in the mirror to his own surprise.

‘It’s a healing session, you prat! Not a fucking date! You’re pathetic, Draco. Spiffing up your scarred up arse for Potter like you think he’d…he’d what? Give you a kiss for being so pretty and good? Do you really think he’d fuck you? Would you even let him? Could you? Stop kidding yourself. Just get back to business. Heal. Plan. Sleep. That’s what you need to be doing…just do it.’

If only it were that easy.


TBC!!!