Funerals and Weddings

For disclaimer, summary, story codes and other information, please see the prologue.


Chapter the Fifty-fourth: Saving Draco
25 January
Hogwarts lake


The instant after Bellatrix Disapparated, Dumbledore, Snape and Blaise were at Harry’s side.

“Professor, I can’t wake him,” Harry said, his voice laced with fear. “His heart—it’s only beating about once a minute! You have to help him!”

“Release him, Potter,” Snape growled.

Harry hesitated, but knew that he needed to let Draco go in order to allow Snape and Dumbledore to examine him. Laying him gently on the ground, he scooted back and gave them room. Harry felt a hand come down on his shoulder and glanced up to see Blaise, whose expression was as tense as Harry’s.

“She used the Soul Stealing Curse,” Snape addressed Dumbledore, choosing to ignore Harry for the moment. As he spoke, he cast a spell that caused a yellow glow to briefly envelop Draco from head to feet. Hearing Snape’s words, Blaise’s fingers dug into Harry’s shoulder.

“Shite,” Harry heard Blaise swear under his breath. Before Harry could ask about this ominous-sounding spell, Snape was speaking again.

“Fortunately, she wasn’t able to finish the incantation, so hopefully the damage isn’t irreparable. I’ll need some things from my stores.” Looking up, he focused on Blaise. “Zabini—listen carefully: Run to my classroom and gather the following…”

Harry tuned Snape out as he rattled off a list of potions and where to find them. After repeating them back, Blaise gave a final squeeze to Harry’s shoulder before dashing back to the castle. Snape returned his attention to Draco and began examining him closely.

“Potter!” he snapped suddenly, jerking his gaze to Harry’s pale face. “What did you do to end the Flesh-Burning Curse?”

Harry swallowed hard, suddenly afraid that he’d caused more damage in his attempt to help. “Er, Finite Incantatem, sir,” he replied.

Snape gave him an unreadable look, then turned his attention back to Draco. “At least you’ve learnt something here in the past five years,” he muttered. Harry blew out a breath in relief and thought he saw a slight smile quirk Dumbledore’s lips.

“Headmaster,” Harry said hesitantly, “what is the Soul Stealing Curse?”

Dumbledore turned to Harry and looked at him seriously. “Ah, yes, that is something you would want to know, now isn’t it?” He paused a moment before continuing, seeming to search Harry’s face for something.

“It is a very difficult, very old curse, one rarely used nowadays. It is one that many of us old-timers have always believed should have been classified as an Unforgivable. When the curse is properly cast, the victim’s soul is ripped almost completely away from the person’s physical body—one might say it is just hanging on by a thread. The physical body is also damaged by the curse and cannot exist for long in this state; the victim will usually die within an hour of being cursed. Just before the moment of death, the soul breaks free and is doomed to wander, alone and separated from all other souls and spirits, for the rest of eternity. It has no home.”

Harry had paled considerably during Dumbledore’s recitation and turned to stare at Draco. He found he had great difficulty swallowing and did so, audibly, only with great effort. “But…Bellatrix wasn’t able to cast the curse completely. Snape stopped her. So that means Draco will be all right, doesn’t it? He—he still has his soul, doesn’t he?” He looked pleadingly back at the headmaster.

Dumbledore smiled at him gently. “Yes, we are fortunate that Professor Snape prevented the curse from being completed. And yes, Draco does indeed still have his soul; if he did not, all the potions in the world could not save him. Professor Snape would not be working so hard to bring Draco back to us if he were already irretrievably lost. The yellow glow you saw around Draco indicates that his soul is still attached. I am confident that Professor Snape shall be able to reverse the curse completely.”

A breath shuddered out of Harry and he returned his gaze to Draco. Snape was performing a series of spells on him, but Harry couldn’t hear what they were. Anxious, and needing something to distract him, he asked Dumbledore another question:

“Sir—the Soul Stealing Curse—why isn’t it classified as an Unforgivable? I mean, it seems just as bad, if not worse, than Avada Kedavra. And what exactly is the, uh…Flesh-Burning Curse that Bellatrix hexed Draco with first?”

“The Flesh-Burning Curse does just what its name implies: it burns the flesh, but from the inside-out. A very painful curse, to be sure. I know Draco will be grateful that you put an end to it quickly. As for the Soul-Stealing Curse, well, one might say the Ostrich Phenomenon is the reason it was never labelled an Unforgivable,” the headmaster replied, his last words clearly laced with irony.

“Er…the Ostrich Phenomenon, sir?” Harry had no idea what the barmy old man was referring to. Weren’t ostriches large birds that lived somewhere far away—like Africa or Australia or something? What did they have to do with Unforgivable Curses?

Dumbledore smiled at him. “Yes, Harry, the Ostrich Phenomenon. According to folklore, what is it that an ostrich does when it wants to hide from a predator? Do you know?”

“Um…er…doesn’t it stick its head in the sand? Sir? But—”

“Exactly!” Dumbledore interrupted. “And this, of course, is completely ineffectual as the rest of its rather large body is still blatantly visible! But the ostrich feels he is safe, because he believes that what he cannot see is unable to see him as well. Or so the story goes.

“Alas, it is a belief often shared by many whom should be wiser, even if one is judging by their age alone! You see, Harry, the Soul Stealing Curse was not one of the three curses favoured by Voldemort during his reign prior to your birth. When those three curses were banned and labelled ‘Unforgivable,’ a few other old curses were proposed as potential Unforgivables as well. But there were those who feared that reminding the population of their existence would cause them to come into use again. After all, why should we tempt fate? The Soul Stealing Curse hadn’t been seen for decades at that time. It was deemed more prudent to keep quiet about some of these terrible older curses, in the hope that they would remain forgotten.”

Harry looked at the elderly wizard in disbelief. “You mean, just because Voldemort wasn’t using it—yet—they didn’t take any action? What were the waiting for—someone to actually lose their soul and die before they would do anything?”

It was Snape who answered Harry, his tone dripping with disgust. “Likely more than one person to lose their soul, Mr. Potter. In my experience, the Ministry must be presented with a vast number of examples—preferably that they can witness first-hand—before they are convinced of the need to take action.”

Harry looked at Snape thoughtfully. “For once, I totally agree with you, Professor. I mean, look at Fudge. He wouldn’t believe Voldemort was back until he saw him for himself. And by then, he’d already killed several people—people whose deaths might have been prevented if he hadn’t refused to listen to the truth when Dumbledore told him,” Harry said, sounding a tad bitter.

Their attention was diverted from the subject by Blaise’s return. He zoomed in on a broom, clutching a small sack tightly to his chest with one arm. In one motion, he leapt from the broom and offered the bag to Snape. “I got everything, Professor. I hope it didn’t take too long. Some of them were well-hidden.”

“Indeed,” Snape took the bag from Blaise. “Good work, Mr. Zabini. Now, if someone will lift Mr. Malfoy by his shoulders—”

Harry was moving and in place before the words were completely out of Snape’s mouth. Snape’s lips thinned but he didn’t say a word. “I need to pour these potions down Mr. Malfoy’s throat in rapid succession. I must warn you, it is the nature of this remedy to cause convulsions; therefore, I will need you, Mr. Zabini, to hold him down. You, Mr. Potter, must keep his mouth open and his upper body upright so that the potions will slide easily down his throat. I will need both of my own hands free to administer the potions and cast the appropriate spells.” As he spoke, he lined up several potions in a neat row on the ground. “Are you ready?”

Blaise moved to kneel beside Draco and took a hold of his forearms. Harry braced Draco’s upper back against his chest and made sure he was steady before reaching around with one hand and placing it on Draco’s jaw. They looked at each other, then back at Snape and nodded in unison.

Snape picked up his wand and unstoppered the first potion. “Open his mouth, Mr. Potter,” he ordered.

Draco’s muscles were lax, so it wasn’t difficult for Harry to pull his jaw down and tilt his head back a little. It wasn’t as easy for him to keep Draco in this position, however, after Snape poured the second potion down his throat. Draco’s entire body went as stiff as a board before beginning to shake and twitch. After the administration of a third potion and another spell, the convulsions Snape had warned them about started in earnest.

Harry wasn’t weak—years of Quidditch had given him a strong upper body—but he had to use all his strength to keep Draco upright and his jaw open. Blaise had thrown his body across Draco’s, using his weight to keep it from bucking so wildly and dislodging the potion phials from Snape’s grasp.

Snape’s expression was one of utter concentration and Harry couldn’t help but feel grateful for the man’s obvious determination to bring Draco back. It occurred to him yet again that while he might not ever like the greasy-haired git, he certainly could respect his considerable abilities.

After what seemed to Harry and Blaise to be an eternity, the last potion was forced down and Snape cast his final spell. The Potions master sat back on his heels and nodded to the two boys.

“You may let him go now. It is done. The convulsions should stop within a few moments—they are already weakening—and if the remedy is successful, Draco should awaken shortly thereafter.”

Harry didn’t like the “if the remedy is successful” portion of Snape’s statement, but he recognised Snape’s use of Draco’s given name as an indication of the man’s true concern for his student. Blaise pushed himself off of Draco’s chest and sat back. Harry shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, but lowered Draco’s head to his lap and kept his arms wrapped around him.

Snape glared at him, but Harry ignored it. Blaise glanced between Snape and the headmaster, amused to see Snape’s scowl countered by the twinkle in Dumbledore’s eye. Returning his attention to Draco and Harry, he saw that the convulsions were dying away. After a few moments, Draco’s body was down to merely twitching, and at last he finally lay still. Now, they would wait.

Harry could feel his anxiety level rise as the minutes passed. How long would it take for Draco to wake up? Should it be taking this long? He didn’t dare ask Snape. He didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he heard Dumbledore say softly, “Breathe, Harry. There’s no point in having you pass out just as Draco wakes up, now is there?”

Harry released his breath in a whoosh, then looked a bit sheepishly at the white-haired wizard. Dumbledore smiled and Harry saw the twinkle in his eye. It was then that Harry felt Draco stir a little.

“He moved,” he whispered, eyes intent on Draco’s face. Draco shifted again before his eyes slowly opened. The first thing he saw were Harry’s worried green eyes staring back at him. He blinked. “Harry?” he croaked hoarsely.

“Oh thank Merlin! Draco,” Harry crushed Draco’s face into his chest and buried his face in soft, blond hair. “Draco.”

Draco pressed a hand to Harry’s shoulder and Harry realised he was probably holding him too tightly. Lifting his head and easing his grasp, he let Draco pull away. He placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before asking, “How do you feel? Do you hurt anywhere?”

Draco lifted a shaky hand to his temple. “Just a headache. And…tired. Very tired. What happened?” Looking around at his surroundings, he noticed Snape, Dumbledore and Blaise for the first time. “What? What’s going on?”

“You were injured in a fight, Draco,” Dumbledore answered. “The important thing is that Professor Snape was able to heal you and that you are all right now. I know you have many questions, but I believe it would be best to get you settled in the infirmary first. Then we’ll talk.”

Dumbledore conjured a stretcher. Draco started to protest he could walk, but various aches and pains were starting to make themselves known and he didn’t think he’d ever felt more exhausted in his life. So he let Harry help him onto the stretcher without complaining. He felt the stretcher lift into the air and closed his eyes. He opened them again when he felt Harry brush his hair off his forehead and press a soft kiss to his mouth. “Harry…you shouldn’t…” he protested weakly, suddenly remembering their relationship was secret.

“Hush, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that you’re ok. Just rest now,” Harry said, smiling at him.

Draco lifted a hand and Harry took it in his own. Now smiling broadly, Dumbledore gave Blaise a wink before setting the stretcher in motion. Snape brought up the rear of the little party.

It wasn’t until they approached the main entrance to the castle that Harry noticed that a significant portion of the student body had gathered there and stood watching the little scene avidly. He could see dozens of faces pressed to the glass windows looking out toward the lake as well. Professor McGonagall stood in front of the crowd, obviously holding them back from rushing onto the grounds. He spied several other professors in the crowd as well, working to keep the curious students in place. Harry supposed that the news of a battle out by the lake had spread quickly through the school. He sighed as he realised that he and Draco’s secret was well and truly out of the bag now.

“Is he all right? Was anyone else hurt?” Professor McGonagall asked, the worry plain in her voice.

“Thanks to Professor Snape, Draco’s going to be fine,” Harry answered. “The rest of us are fine as well.”

Harry saw McGonagall’s eyebrows lift when he credited Snape with saving Draco, but she merely nodded. What Harry didn’t see was Snape’s reaction to his words. Blaise nearly choked as the normally stoic man’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped slightly in disbelief. He recovered quickly, but Blaise made a mental note to tell Harry and Draco about it later.

The crowd of students parted silently in front of them as Dumbledore guided the stretcher up the stairs and into the castle. Although he knew he was just postponing the inevitable, Harry keep his eyes fixed on Draco. He didn’t want to start dealing with explanations and exclamations quite yet.

Draco was settled into the infirmary and examined by Madam Pomfrey. Draco gratefully accepted a Pain Potion, but balked at taking one for sleep. “No, not yet. I want to know what happened out there. I promise to take it after I’ve gotten an explanation, but I can’t possibly sleep without knowing how I ended up here.”

Madam Pomfrey looked ready to protest, but subsided at a glance from Dumbledore. She placed the phial on the bedside table and moved away to give them some privacy.

Harry sat on the edge of Draco’s bed and took his hand. Dumbledore conjured his favourite squashy chair as Snape pulled up two regular wooden chairs for himself and Blaise. When they were settled, Draco looked expectantly at the headmaster.

“Ah, yes, now to the questions. It would probably be best to establish exactly what it is you do and don’t recall, Draco. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Umm…” Draco closed his eyes. “It’s all very vague. Something…I needed to find Blaise. Needed to tell him…Mother! My mother was here.” He paused, visibly collecting his thoughts. “But she wasn’t my mother. It was…someone else. I told Blaise…told him to tell you and Professor Snape. I guess he did,” Draco looked at Blaise and smiled a little. “But…after that…it’s hazy, like something I dreamed but can’t remember. Who was it pretending to be my mother? Was I fighting her?”

“It was Bellatrix,” Snape replied. “She had Polyjuiced into Narcissa. After Mr. Zabini alerted me, I joined you out by the lake. Bellatrix wanted to take you off the grounds, ostensibly into Hogsmeade for dinner. I managed to stall her long enough for the Polyjuice to wear off. Once she was revealed…I’m sorry, Draco, but I wasn’t able to stop her. She cursed you. I should have been faster.”

Harry was surprised to see what looked like genuine remorse on Snape’s angular face. The words were out of his mouth before he even realised he planned to say anything.

“I don’t mean to contradict you, Professor, but you did stop her. You hit her with that choking spell, or whatever it was, before she was able to complete the curse. If you hadn’t…” Harry broke off and closed his eyes. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

Draco looked wide-eyed from Harry’s pained expression to Snape’s thunderstruck one and back again. Dumbledore stepped in to finish the story. In a quiet voice, he explained what had happened out by the lake.

Draco looked sick as he learned how close he’d come to losing his life. He turned to Snape. “I…don’t know quite what to say. ‘Thank you for saving my life’ doesn’t seem to be enough. But I’ll say it anyway: thank you, sir. I owe you my life, and that’s a debt I will honour.”

Snape met Draco’s eyes evenly. “I did not do what I did with thoughts of repayment or debts. There is no need to consider a life debt.”

“You know as well as I do that it’s Old Magic, Professor. The debt is there, whether or not we choose to acknowledge it. And I choose to acknowledge it,” Draco said stubbornly.

Before Snape could respond, Dumbledore lifted a hand. “I believe now is a good time for us to take our leave. Draco needs to rest and debates on life debts can be held after he has done so. Draco, I’ll tell Madam Pomfrey to rest assured that you’ve taken your potion,” he concluded, with a meaningful look at Draco, before standing and vanishing his chair.

As Dumbledore walked away to find Madam Pomfrey, Snape and Blaise stood as well. “I’m glad you’re all right, Draco. You gave us quite a scare there. If it’s all right with you two, I’ll pass the word about what happened today along to Katie,” Blaise said.

Harry and Draco nodded. “Thanks, Blaise, for your help today,” Draco said.

“Yeah, thanks, Blaise,” Harry echoed, standing and offering Blaise his hand. “Tell Katie I’ll see her later, will you? And if you or Katie happen to see Ron or Hermione, will you tell them I’m fine and I’ll talk to them later?”

Shaking Harry’s hand, Blaise replied, “Sure thing. I’ll stop in to see you later, Draco. Harry, Professor,” Blaise nodded all around and left the room.

Snape approached Harry and leaned down, whispering so that only Harry could hear him. “I’ll be speaking with you later, Potter.”

Before Harry could reply, Dumbledore returned from seeing Madam Pomfrey. “Well, gentlemen, shall we go?”

“I’m staying here with Draco,” Harry said, politely but firmly.

Dumbledore lifted his brows. “Ah. I see. Well, I’ll leave that to be sorted out between Poppy and yourself. Sleep well, Draco. I’ll stop in later to see how you are doing. Coming, Severus?”

With a final nod at Draco and a penetrating stare at Harry, Snape swept from the room behind Dumbledore.

Draco looked at Harry. “You don’t have to stay, Harry. I mean, it won’t be very exciting to watch me sleep.”

Harry sat on Draco’s bed again. He leaned in and kissed Draco, softly at first, then with growing intensity. Before it got out of hand, he pulled back. “I want to stay, Draco. Besides, I’m tired, too. I plan on stretching out on one of these hospital beds myself. But if you need me, wake me up, ok?”

“All right,” Draco said with a tired smile. He reached over and picked up the phial of Sleeping Potion, downing it quickly. “Good night, Harry.”

“I’ll just sit here until you fall asleep, all right? Sleep well, Draco,” Harry said, taking Draco’s hand. He was rewarded with a sleepy smile. Within minutes, Draco was sound asleep.

Harry sat watching Draco sleep for several minutes. When his own eyes began to droop, he decided to do as he’d told Draco and take a nap. Concentrating, Harry focused on the nearest empty bed. “Accio,” he muttered. The bed jumped up and flew into position next to Draco’s. Pleased with his bit of wandless magic, Harry smiled to himself as he climbed onto the bed and removed his shoes and glasses. He stretched out and blocked his mind. Even without a Sleeping Potion, it wasn’t long before Harry drifted off to sleep, still holding Draco’s hand.

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