The Lion and the Serpent

When Draco awoke in the middle of the night, Harry was still asleep, lying on his side. The room was dark, with only a small nightlight providing dim illumination.



Careful not to rouse Harry too early, Draco watched him sleep, committing every detail and nuance of his appearance to memory. Harry\'s face looked tired, wearied by the events of the last two years. Faint, barely noticeable lines gathered around his eyes, and crossed his forehead. His hair was cut short, shorter than Draco had ever seen it. It was clear that Harry had used no charms, no spells, no potions to restore his appearance, or wipe away the signs of premature aging. It was as if his own body was inconsequential to him. The scars that disfigured Harry\'s backside, confirmed it. To Harry, his own body was a tool, a weapon.. nothing more.



Draco gazed around him slowly, taking in the humble look of Harry\'s quarters. So austere, so minimalistic. The bed, the chair, the trunk with simplest clothing.... the blankets on the bed were old, worn out, and looking at them carefully for the first time, Draco recognized the Weasleys\' colors. Mrs. Weasley must have given them to Harry for Christmas years ago, Draco thought tiredly, and Harry never replaced them. Then again, it didn\'t look like Harry was in the business of replacing things. On the contrary, it appeared that Harry had shed most of his possessions, and was, in fact, shedding more and more layers of his life, bit by bit, until there was nothing left. He seemed to be doing it so easily, so effortlessly, that Draco\'s entire being ached from witnessing his Master\'s quiet self-destruction.



Draco heard footsteps and voices behind the door. Hermione was speaking quietly, issuing orders, giving instructions. The students accepted her leadership without protest, as if recognizing that Harry\'s leadership had ended. His task was now to die, nothing more.



Draco heard the students depart, and he knew it was only a matter of minutes until she would knock on the door, to tell them it was time. He knew it was irrational, but he hated her for that, and he couldn\'t bear the thought of someone else waking Harry. Cautiously, Draco placed his hand on Harry\'s chest. Harry was a light sleeper. Instantly, his eyes opened and he looked at Draco questioningly.



Draco only nodded miserably.



They got ready quietly and entered the dining room, where Hermione was waiting. She was waiting for them, seated at the table. The vial with crystallized poison lay on the table, the small green-tinted spheres contained within.



"There is a one hour stasis spell on the poison. How do you want the application? Sub-dermal, or trans-dermal?" Hermione asked quietly.



"Trans," Harry said, looking at the vial apprisingly. "I want as much time as possible."



Hermione nodded agreement. "I\'ll attach them to your back," she said. "So you can\'t reach them quite so easily - just in case."



Harry just nodded. He removed his shirt, and Draco took it from him absently. Then Harry turned a chair around and straddled it, presenting his back to Hermione. She ran her fingers along his back, and shook her head disapprovingly; but there was no surprise or shock on her face.



Draco stared at Hermione startled. She knew about his injuries, about the abuse, he realized, looking at her wildly.



"Of course I knew," she said bitterly. "Who do you think healed him every September?"



"Her and Ron, together," Harry said quietly. "At the end of every summer."



The sudden casual revelation shook Draco to the very core. The two of them, Ron and Hermione, had been witnesses and keepers of Harry\'s anguish for years. They did not shy away from his pain. They had touched, accepted and held the secret parts of him that the rest of the world did not know about. Perhaps the wizarding world needed Harry to save everyone, but Harry had always needed the two of them. Draco remembered Harry\'s voice, speaking in the shadows: It was always supposed to be the three of us.



Draco could not bear to look at either Harry, or Hermione, as for the first time he began to grasp the full horror of his one thoughtless, hateful action that destroyed the delicate balance that had evolved between the three friends. For the first time, he was genuinely surprised to find himself alive - not only spared, but somehow, welcomed into this quiet, humble conspiracy of death and sacrifice.



"Forgive me," he begged, not daring to look up.



"We already have," Hermione said firmly. "You are one of us now."



Hermione gracious words barely faded when she opened a small tool kit, and showed the contents of it to both Draco and Harry. It contained a heap of small, thin, dark appendages, that looked like a cross between tentacles and insect limbs.



"These tentacles permanently bind themselves to the substance," Hermione explained quietly. "Then they burrow into the person\'s body, until the substance is touching the surface of the skin. Any attempt to remove them will only cause the structure to embed itself deeper in the victim."



"Victim," Draco repeated hoarsely. "Something tells me this isn\'t standard St. Mungo\'s equipment?"



"No," Hermione said dryly. "Centuries ago, these were used for torture, to bind pain agents to the victim\'s body. We had a lecture on that in our ethics class... Who knew it would come in so handy?"



She took out a pair of medical pincers and cautiously placed one of the small crystal spheres on the table. She then selected three appendages from the kit, and placed them next to the sphere. The small black limbs came to life, moved, and attached themselves to the piece of crystallized substance. Using the pincers again, Hermione lifted the tiny tripod structure, and placed it against Harry\'s back, right underneath his right shoulder-blade. The tentacles came to life again, as if they had a mind of their own. They punctured the skin, and burrowed into it furiously, eliciting a faint shudder from Harry\'s body, and a barely audible gasp from his lips. A moment later, the tiny sphere of crystallized poison was bound to Harry\'s skin, and three small drops of blood ran down his back.



Draco stood silently, not sure what horrified him more: that Hermione\'s delicate healer hands just became instruments of torment, or Harry\'s subdued, restrained reactions to the terror that was inflicted on him.



Noticing the expression of complete misery on Draco\'s face, Harry smiled at him weakly:



"It\'s not so bad," he said softly. "The numbing potion... it helps a great deal."



The next application followed, and this time Harry held himself absolutely still. Draco would have wept, but Hermione noticed the look in his eyes, and shook her head slightly. Then, Draco did the only thing that was left to do. He knelt in front of Harry\'s chair and took Harry\'s face in his hands, kissing him on the mouth. He thought he had tasted blood on Harry\'s lips, and was about to withdraw, when suddenly, and without any reservation, Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, seeming to lose himself in it.



When Hermione finally finished her work, she stepped back and looked at Harry\'s back critically. Draco stood up and looked as well. The small green spheres of crystallized poison were now attached to Harry\'s skin, forming two rows, going down from his shoulder-blades to his lower back. They glowed darkly and menacingly, amid the old scars and the small droplets of blood.



"Done?" Harry asked.



"Yes," Hermione said. "Sorry," she added. "It\'s the best I could do, on such a short notice... to make it irreversible... if I had more time to research this, or think about it..."



Harry smirked. "I promise, next time I need your help to die in some lame and dramatic way, I\'ll give you at least a month\'s notice."



She smiled sadly. "I\'ll hold you to that, you know."



Harry got up and reached for his shirt. Draco picked it up for him quickly, and helped him put it on. Together, the three of them left Harry\'s quarters and walked through the deserted hallways of their school.



In the courtyard, a lonely tall figure was waiting for them.



"Minerva," Hermione said. "We are off now. Please make sure that no students leave the school. No-one must go near the Forbidden Forest tonight."



The Headmistress nodded curtly. Nothing else was said.



They walked the rest of the way to the Forbidden Forest in silence. When they reached the boundary of the meadow that Draco had marked as the location, Hyperion and Layre stepped out of the shadows towards them.



"This section of the Forest is clear," Layre said proudly. "All the magical creatures are evacuated."



"We are ready to shield the area as soon as you go in," Hyperion added.



"Excellent work," Harry said sincerely, shaking their hands. "Your House should be proud of you. All of you."



For a moment, he looked at Hermione and Draco awkwardly. Hermione was the first one to step forward.



She threw her arms around him, and mumbled quietly,



"Harry.. I\'m so sorry - for everything. Really. What I\'ve done to you... How I\'ve been..."



He hugged her back and kissed her brow. "Don\'t be," he said. "None of us have been ourselves lately."



Draco stared at Harry plaintively.



"Harry... maybe there\'s still some way..."



Harry just shook his head. When he spoke, his words were gentle and reassuring.



"It\'s not so bad, Draco," he repeated again. "I\'ve been here before. A part of this Forest lies between life and death. That\'s where I went last time Voldemort struck me with the Killing Curse. This time.. I just have to go a little further."



Draco opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.



"Bye," Harry said softly, and walked away.



Instantly, Hyperion and Layre raised their wands, and a shield of magical energy separated Harry from his friends. Around the perimiter they had established, other have done the same, a shimmering wall of energy separating the section of the Forbidden Forest from the rest of the world.



"Now what?" Draco asked numbly.



"Now we wait," Hermione said.



They stood together and watched. Trough the shimmering, semi-transparent shield of energy, they could still faintly see Harry\'s figure. He was walking alone, towards a small patch of grass with a green and silver scarf tied around it.



He never looked back.



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