Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 17—part 23

December 10

The last few days have been… wonderful.

I feel like a bloody nancy for saying something like that but at this point, what reason do I have to lie? What would that prove or help?

I spent a lot of the time with Harry… either in my room or in his sometimes. His room was very different from mine, even though it’s the same house and has similar furniture. It’s more… lived in.

He has clothes scattered around and they all have rich and warm colours –Gryffindor kinds of colours. He has books strewn on the ground and on a desk as well as photos of his parents, Sirius and several others that I didn’t take the time to scrutinize. There was one picture that interested me. It was a photo of Lupin and Sirius together when they were likely around our age.

I don’t know where Harry got that one (apparently most of his other pictures were given to him as a gift from Hagrid), but there was something about it that stuck out more than the others.

Sirius hand his arm around Lupin’s neck and was pulling him in closer, leaning his head in so that they were against one another. Lupin’s face was pleasantly tinted pink and his eyes weren’t looking out most of the time, but trained on the man who was holding him. He smiled so brightly that I couldn’t help but feel happy with it. Sirius looked young and energetic and possessive.

Every so often his picture self would run it’s fingers through Lupin’s hair and give him a warm look.

They were happy.

Harry told me that, next to the picture of his parents’ wedding, that was his favourite one to look at. He said the same thing I had been feeling: it filled him with inexplicable happiness.

It was ultimately a quiet week. We started doing research on new spells and curses to use instead of history or anything related to the Horcruxes. We knew that the next was Hufflepuff’s cup, but just had no idea where to find it.

Lupin had suggested, one night, that perhaps we should take some time to work on other aspects of our mission as we waited for information to come it. That’s when Granger got the idea to look for spells and curses that might be useful.

At this point it’s just become accepted that I’m to be included in the ‘us’ comments.

I suppose after Lupin passed on the title of “Marauders” (which Harry later explained to me had to do with this fantastic map that his father, Lupin and Sirius had made), it was inevitable that I be involved.

Then I wondered who I would be of the four.

Harry immediately told me that he thought I would either have to be Sirius or James, which caught me off-guard.

“Why?” I had asked him. I would have naturally supposed that he would take his father’s place, no?

“Because when my father was younger,” he explained a mildly nostalgic expression coming over him. “he was a prat. He made fun of people –namely Snape –and ultimately acted like an arrogant git.” I frowned and he smiled for a moment. “But then one day he grew up, let his head deflate and turned into the man he was known to be. He matured, I suppose. Everyone tells me I’m so like my father, but I think you are more like him than I… at least in personality. I’m more like Sirius, I think.”

It was an odd conversation but there was a look of admiration in his eyes as he told me this. I felt… oddly close to him. And… honoured… in a way.

I suppose.

……

In any case, Lupin came to find us today and told us that he had located and caught a Boggart for us. Well… more for me than anything else, I suppose, but that’s of no matter.

Harry took me into an empty study. Inside the walls were bare and there was no furniture except for an old cabinet against the far wall. Granger and Weasel were already in there waiting.

“Alright, perfect,” Harry said, walking up to the cabinet. It immediately began to shake and he smiled.

“Harry, what do we need the Boggart for?” Weasel asked, giving the cabinet an unpleasant look… one that he usually reserved for me.

“I’m going to teach Malfoy here how to use a Patronus charm,” he explained, getting out his wand.

“That still doesn’t explain the Boggart,” Weasel said almost whining. Harry shook his head.

“Practice Dementor,” he said simply. “It works much better to know what it’s like in front of a real one. Practicing without anything is too easy. I couldn’t use a Boggart for the D.A. because it would have only worked for me, but since Malfoy has the same fear as I do, it works out well.”

He said all this with a strangely sing-song voice and I frowned deeply as he admitted so freely what my worst fear was… not that they weren’t going to find out anyway, but it was still unexpected. He could have ASKED.

“You’re afraid of Dementors?” Weasel asked, bewildered and smirking. My lip curled.

“Better than spiders,” I hissed at him, drawing my wand. I didn’t get his glee. Harry was also afraid of Dementors. He’s just a bloody fool.

That’s it.

“Ok,” Harry said, standing in front of me standing proud and strong as though he was about to duel. “What do you know about the Patronus charm?”

I pursed my lips.

“That it drives Dementors away,” I answered. Have I not told them before that my expertise lies in the Dark Arts and History? And Potions of course…

“That’s all?” he asked. I rolled my eyes in response. “Alright well, let’s see… how did Remus put it?” He bit his lip for a moment. “A Patronus is basically a concentration of positive energy that guards you from the Dementor. They can’t suck out happiness from something that can’t be anything but good. I think. Anyway, the point is, if it’s strong enough it will protect you from Dementors and they won’t be able to get near you. Creating a corporeal Patronus is hard and requires a lot of power,” What he boasting?? “But it gets easier with time and practice. I’m not sure how well this will go… I’m a little worried I won’t be able to get the thing back into the cabinet when you faint, but we’ll see.”

What was that?

“I will NOT faint, Potter,” I sneered at him, preparing myself.

“We’ll see,” he muttered and then changed the subject. “Now the incantation is ‘expecto patronum’. You have to concentrate on your happiest memory and chant it out. Alright?”

“I’m not daft,” I shot. Then I realized it might be hard to think of a happy memory… all of my happiest memories were tainted with pain or sorrow… I thought quickly.

“Got one?” Harry asked me as Granger and Weasel pressed themselves against the walls of the room. I panicked and settled on the night that Harry brought me a piece of wedding cake.

“Er, alright,” I answered.

He stepped back and unlocked the cabinet with his wand. The door flung open and immediately a dark hooded creature floated towards me. I held up my wand but was left in a state of shock.

The oppressing cold of the Dementor’s powers washed over me and I felt my pupils contract as I stood there, mouth slightly ajar and staring into my worst nightmare.

I completely forgot my wand as I stared into the black void beneath the hood and felt all my positive feelings leave me.

Then it all happened.

I felt my breath catch in my chest and freeze there as images and sounds of my past flashed and echoed through my mind at lightning speed.

I was struck with the vivid image of my father standing over me with a malicious gleam in his eyes as he cast a soul magic spell on me. I felt pain rip through me and then more images flashed by and I was hit with the vision of Harry cursing me with sectumsempra and bleeding all over myself before that image faded as well and I only saw a flash of green light and then Dumbledore’s body being cast into the air and thrown from the tower.

A deafening scream filled my ears and, as though in slowed time, I felt my mouth widen in a scream before suddenly everything was black and I felt cold and empty.

“Draco… Draco!” Harry’s voice called out, pulling me up off the ground. I realized that I had collapsed and my wand was gone from my hand.

I was sweating and cold and disoriented. The Dementor was gone and Granger and Weasel were looking at me from further back with rather pale faces.

Harry was right in front of me and searching my eyes for something I couldn’t identify.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, handing me some chocolate. I glanced at the chocolate with incredulous eyes before trying to get to my feet.

“Yes that was quite enjoyable,” I answered sarcastically.

“I told you you would faint,” he said with a bit more pleasure than was necessary.

I opened my mouth to answer but he took the opportunity to shove the chocolate into my mouth and I nearly choked.

When I bit down onto the piece and pulled the rest away from me, I felt immediately warmer and refreshed. I swallowed and happily put the rest into my mouth, ignoring the smug look on Harry’s face.

“You didn’t even try to cast the spell though,” he remarked. “Was your memory not strong enough?”

“How am I supposed to know??” I snapped, finished the chocolate and licking my fingers.

I… love chocolate.

“Well what was it?” he asked. Weasel and Granger perked up and walked over. I suddenly became very aware that they were in the room and might have flushed pink. I can’t be sure.

“I’d prefer not to disclose that kind of information,” I answered curtly, eyeing the other two.

“Don’t be stupid,” he pressed, rolling his eyes. “No one will laugh or anything. I just need to know if you need to find a stronger one. I had that problem too… finding a happy enough memory, I mean.”

I begged to differ. I was QUITE SURE that if I disclosed to Weasel and Granger that the memory I had chosen was when Harry had brought me a piece of wedding cake they would instantaneously burst into fits of laughter stronger than a rictusempra spell.

“The day I was sorted into Slytherin,” I lied quickly. That wasn’t a very happy memory. I wasn’t happy… I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to face my father’s anger. I was put in Slytherin where I belonged… where all Malfoys belong. I didn’t have to face punishment for being sorted into Hufflepuff.

“Seriously?” Weasel asked before he could stop himself. “That’s the best you’ve got? Malfoy, you’re a bloody spoiled rich kid and being sorted into your house was the best memory you have?”

My lip curled again as I glared at him. He knows NOTHING of my life. Figures that would be the conclusion he drew. Moron.

“Can you offer a better one, Weaselby?” I snapped. He pulled a face and turned his look back to one of bored displeasure.

“He’s right though,” Harry went on, ignoring the little exchange. “You need a happier one than that.” The way he looked at me suggested he knew that I was lying but that didn’t matter.

I pulled my brows together in thought and tried to find a better image.

What is my happy memory?

I thought of a few nights ago, when Harry had asked me to take him… but that was less happy and more desperate and carnal…

I thought of that day when Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup over Slytherin and Harry was lifted up onto his friends’ shoulders. I thought of that smile he had… how happy he looked and immediately felt warm inside… but I hadn’t been happy that day. I was overwhelmed with feelings and I was confused…

How could that be my happiest memory?

Then I thought of just two days ago… when Harry told me that he though I was most like his father. I thought of the look of admiration on his face and realized that it was the same kind of look that filled Lupin’s eyes in that picture with Sirius.

It was almost nothing… but it was my happiest memory.

What else could I do?

“Alright, I’ve got another one,” I said.

“’Bout damn time,” Weasel groaned and walked back to the wall. I shot him a glare and prepared myself again.

Harry gave me a look.

“Are you concentrating enough? Nothing else but the memory in your mind?” he pushed. I nodded and concentrated on that look in his eyes, comparing me to the people he had loved most. I smiled… more genuinely than I think I’ve ever done in public. Granger gave me a thoughtful look as she studied my face, but I tried not to notice.

Harry unlocked the door and the Dementor came whooshing out at me. I felt the cold again and was about to hit that point where I let it take over, but shook my head and thought hard about my memory… it was so fresh it could hardly even be a “memory”.

“Expecto patronum, Expecto patronum,” I began to chant, my voice getting stronger with every word. I felt something pull from deep inside of me and my wand vibrated in my hand as though it was forcing hard to cast the spell. “Expecto patronum, Expecto patronum!” I began to yell loudly as suddenly there was a rush through my body and a bright silver blob that didn’t look much like anything escaped from my wand and held the Dementor back from me. “Expecto patronum!!” I screamed finally, the silver blob forcing forward to drive the Dememtor back into the cabinet.

As soon as it was within reach, Harry threw the door shut and locked it again.

I suddenly exhaled deeply as though I had been holding my breath and collapsed to my knees on the hard and unforgiving floor. I panted hard, trying to get a grip on myself. I shouldn’t show weakness like that in front of people. Just Harry…

Not the rodent and his mate.

But I couldn’t help it. I was shaking from the draining power of that spell and shut my eyes hard as I tried desperately to calm my breathing. A piece of chocolate appeared in front of my face suddenly and, without thinking, I just bit into it without taking it from Harry.

Immediately realizing my mistake, I reached up and took it, wondering if I was feeling a rush of heat from the chocolate or something else.

“Well,” Harry finally said, clearing his throat. “That was much better. I didn’t even manage to cast a silver ghost on the second try,” he admitted with maybe just a mite of spite. “I think that’s enough for now though.”

I nodded weakly and took the hand that was offered to me to get to my feet. It was only once I was standing that I realized that the hand didn’t belong to Harry. It belonged to Weasel.

He didn’t have a pleasant expression on his face. I took my hand back with an incredulous look.

“What was your memory?” he asked me with a strange kind of forcefulness to his voice.

“When Umbridge made me part of the Inquisitorial Squad,” I lied with a sneer as though I was trying deliberately to show them I was lying. He gave me a look of disbelief.

“Are you mad??” he exclaimed. Granger and Harry were both giving me similar looks though Harry’s look betrayed the fact that he clearly didn’t believe me. “That woman was mental!”

“Of course she was,” I snickered darkly. “She gave me the power to give and take House Points! You have to be seriously demented to give me, let alone a Slytherin, that kind of control! She was fantastic!”

Harry snorted and shook his head. Granger tried to suppress a smile as well but Weasel just shook his head in disbelief.

He still didn’t seem pleased but Granger took him by the hand and led him out of the room. I finished my chocolate and took a moment to enjoy the rush of heat that flowed through me. Then I felt a pair of hands weave their way around my waist and realized that the door in front of me was closed.

“You don’t waste time,” I sneered as I felt Harry press his soft lips to the back of my neck.

“Oh shut it, you git,” he snickered, letting go of me so that he could turn me around. I smirked. He gave me a rather mischievous look back.

“What?” I asked feigning innocence.

“Now that they are both gone,” he began in that know-it-all fashion that suited Granger better than him. “What were you really thinking about? Your memories I mean.”

I gasped in fake shock.

“Why, Potter,” I exclaimed in mock-surprise. “Are you suggesting I’m a liar?”

He laughed.

“No, but you don’t admit anything that easily,” he explained. “Not without a fight.”

“Are you offering to fight me for it?” I inquired suggestively. He rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smirk.

“Not today,” he whispered. Then he kissed me and pressed his body against mine so that I felt another flush of heat from a completely different source before he pulled away. “But I will know. You will tell me eventually.”

I will.

*********

December 18

Well. You know how I said that I was always happily included in the ‘we’ or ‘us’ comments?

Well apparently not for ALL things.

Seems that they conveniently forgot to inform me of one tiny little insignificant but rather glaringly obvious detail.

I had taken a bit of a longer shower this morning. We had been training all week with the Boggart (though I can still only create the silver blob or cloud…sometimes it looks as though it’s about to take a shape and then thinks better of it and becomes a more complete blob… unless my Patronus is just supposed to be a boggart… or something equally as stupid) and practicing new spells and curses. I’ve also been trying to help Harry with his Occlumency and non-verbal spells though apparently he can only do complicated magic when his entire body is otherwise engaged.

I don’t mind at all, but Voldemort might.

In any case, I decided I deserved to relax a bit in the shower. I felt good. I was clean and my hair was styled and I felt ultimately more fit.

Healthier.

Stronger.

At least until I opened the door to step out of the bathroom.

There was a lot of steam and I was thinking of other things, so I didn’t really notice anything around me… which was my mistake more than anyone else’s… but still.

All I heard was a faint gasp and then, suddenly, I was assaulted by the most uncomfortable spell I’ve ever experienced –and considering how many curses I’ve been hit with, that is saying something.

“ARGH!” I groaned loudly, before I realized that this hex was oh-so-familiar.

The bat-bogey hex.

And only one person had ever cast that on me.

Apparently, Harry (and everyone else, consequently) had forgotten to inform me that the whole Weasel Clan was going to be joining us for the holidays.

I groaned loudly and looked over down the hall to find the origin of the hex.

Of course.

The bloody she-Weasel was standing there with a smug look on her ugly face. I rolled my eyes as I tried to right myself and simply lifted my wand and threw a non-verbal curse at her. It threw her back hard and she went careening into the wall behind her.

I growled and spelled away the rest of her damn hex.

And I had JUST fixed my hair!

I honestly think she needs to learn something new because being a one-trick pony has never been a good thing for anyone. It grows old and stale.

“You filthy –” she began to shriek shrilly. I rolled my eyes and sneered at her.

“Watch your tongue, you little weasel,” I spat. Her face warped into something like that of a harpy I imagine and I grimaced at the image. She raised her wand to throw another hex at me but I threw up a shield to block it immediately. Either I’m just getting better or she’s getting slower. She used to be able to catch me off-guard.

Ha.

“Did the Death-Eaters teach you that, you little ferret?!” she shrieked at me. I seethed.

WHAT DOES SHE KNOW? THE LITTLE WEASEL-WHORE WAS TOO BUSY SHAGGING ANYTHING WITH TWO LEGS AND A PRICK TO PAY ATTENTION TO ANYTHING ELSE, HAS SHE?

I didn’t wait to hear more.

I flicked my wand and turned her into what she is.

A weasel.

And then I heard a stampede of angry footsteps rushing up the stairs and into the hall as I held the little rust-coloured weasel in the air and seriously contemplated whipping her into the wall.

“MALFOY!” came a number of voices all at once. I couldn’t identify which was which and belonged to whom. I rolled my eyes and flicked my wand again and she turned back to normal… I suppose if you can call it that.

Mrs. Weasel-… Weasley rushed forwards to her along with the Weasel-twins to see if she was alright. She was fuming and I swear I thought I saw steam coming from her ears.

“Malfoy, what the he –” but Potter couldn’t finish his statement. The creature was back on her feet and holding her wand at me.

“YOU FILTHY BASTARD!” she screeched at me. “Thought you’d turn me into a weasel because it’s easier to kill me that way? Can’t kill a real person, can you?! Is that why you couldn’t kill Dumbledore yourself, you bloody coward!?”

I don’t know how it happened but every angry and painful feeling coursed through me in a split second as I felt myself become something I’m not.

“DON’T CALL ME COWARD, YOU LITTLE WHORE!” I hollered about to throw myself on her. Then strong hands held me back and I felt someone take my wand from my hand as I went blind with rage.

I wanted to kill her. Right then and there I wanted to murder her and feed whatever was left of her body to the rats on the streets.

SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT COURAGE IS!!

I felt pairs of strong arms dragging me back into a room. I only calmed down a bit once the door closed and the little skank was out of my sight.

That’s when I realized that I was sitting in a room with Lupin and Harry.

I looked up at them with an angry but mildly embarrassed look on my face. Lupin looked at me sadly and Harry’s face was white and rather spectral.

“Draco,” Lupin’s calming voice came rather concerned. Harry said nothing. His face was indecipherable as it had no colour and he looked rather shocked.

“I know, I know!” I answered before he could say anything else. “But she attacked me first! I didn’t even do anything! I just came out of the shower and she hit me with that damn bat-bogey hex!!”

“Draco, I understand,” Lupin told me quietly. “You are both to blame here… But we should have warned you and we should have warned her.” He sighed sadly. “That was my mistake. But as long we are all staying in this house, we need to be civil. You’ve grown so much since you’ve arrived and we all trust you Draco. I know that if you just give them a chance, they will see that too.”

It’s infinitely hard to stay angry at Lupin sometimes. It’s impossible, in fact.

I shut my mouth and stared at the ground, nodding vaguely. He handed me back my wand.

“I’ll go and try to see how Ginny is doing,” he said before turning to the door. “You should apologize to each other later. I know it’s hard… but at least it’s a gesture. She may not accept it, but you’ll feel better.”

He left the room.

Feel better after apologizing to the Weasel-slut? Doubtful.

But Lupin tends to KNOW things.

Bothers me sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” I said suddenly. I don’t know why but I felt the need to apologize to Harry. He looked at me with that inexplicable expression and then walked over to me, but didn’t touch me.

“You aren’t a coward… and maybe he isn’t either…”

-------IIIIIII-------

A/N: AH did you see it before I mentioned it? Can you tell what Harry’s talking about?

Oooo I hope so! Draco is like a good many people and that’s important to remember. He is shaped by all the people in his life and many that aren’t but that doesn’t make him less himself.

Don’t know if that made sense but anyway X_X

Also there will be… issues with Ginny. I promise. I don’t like her much. Can you tell? Hahahaha but yeah. And I couldn’t just let you SEE Draco’s Patronus, now could I? Have to wait for that tooo!

Ahh I’m evil.

Gah thanks for all the love and reviews! I’m glad you all liked the last chapter! I don’t necessarily think that Draco is more James than Harry or anything, but Harry did say in the fifth book that his father reminded him of Draco, sadly (At the time). So I went with that!

I don’t think anyone is Peter though. I won’t make them Peter anyway. Ew. That would suck. I can’t do that. It’s just too mean lol.

Ah I love you all! And I’m SOOOO excited about that gift I’ve been promised hehe! That and masha translating my fic makes me all warm and fuzzy inside! I don’t understand Chinese sadly, but I really wish I did X_X I wish I understood Japanese too but that’s a different story hehehe.

Love and cookies to all of you!