Icarus Syndrome

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Beta: The bizarre bcandii

Warnings: Blatant mis-use of magic. There will be an explanation eventually. I ask you to go with it. Language. Let's face it. Everyone uses it. Even the HP cast would have had the books not been read by a young audience. PM me with questions if you have any.

Thank you, dear readers, for the hits, reviews, alerts and favorites. An author loves to know their work is appreciated.

-X-

“Madam Pomfrey?” She inquired, knocking on the matron's door. Ron shifted on his feet beside her as they waited for her. “Madam Pomfrey?”

“That's odd. She's normally always in there, isn't she?” Ron asked as Hermione tried to call the matron again.

“It is odd. You don't think she's with Harry in another room, do you?”

“Maybe. They would definitely need someplace heavily warded if she's going to have a go at his magic.” Ron began to scan the Hospital Wing. “Do you think we can find them?”

“If she's with Harry, we don't need to interrupt. We should just find Draco.” She shuffled the book around as she grabbed her wand. She leveled it even on her palm and whispered, “Point me Draco Black.” It twirled around and pointed straight at the door opposite Pomfrey's office. She led Ron toward the door, but paused as she heard a soft voice. “Is he talking to himself?”

“Curse is already driving him batty.” Ron sighed disgustedly. “This is not going to be fun. He'll probably cry and rant at us.” He shivered and turned the knob slowly so they didn't spook him. That would not be good at all.

“....He kissed those enticing lips- they could not kiss him back; he caressed her hands, her face- they were unresponsive; he took her in his arms- she remained a cold and passive form. For a time he tried to pretend, as children do with their toys, but he was not a child; he could not keep on pretending. In the end he gave up. He loved a lifeless thing and he was utterly and hopelessly wretched.” (1)

Draco was sitting on a hospital bed, blanket draped over his raised knees. He was reading from a book leaned against his knees, and comfortably leaning against her best friend's form. Harry wasn't with Pomfrey. He was sitting at Draco's side, one arm casually supporting him and letting him rest against him. He seemed utterly oblivious to everything around him too, as he had yet to move his attention from anything but the boy's face.

She heard Ron inhale sharply beside her, but it was useless. Draco cut off abruptly and went wide-eyed as he saw them. Harry looked similarly shocked and he moved away from the Slytherin, but only so he sat protectively in front of him.. He didn't even seem to realize he'd moved.

“Hermione? Ron? What are you doing here?” He asked, as Draco shut the book and seemed to find the cover very interesting.

“Us? What are you doing? I thought you were getting help from Pomfrey!” Ron burst out, trying to make sense of the scene in front of him.

“I was! I mean I had already! She gave me a list of stuff! But, I saw- And I couldn't just leave- And he-”

“He what?” Hermione asked curiously. She wasn't aware that the Slytherin was so receptive to being subjected to the Golden Boy's company and reading aloud like story-hour in elementary school.

“He was-”

“What did you need to speak to me about Granger? I know the Headmaster sent you.” Draco's voice interrupted smoothly. All three looked at him with varying shock, but he just raised his eyes and met Hermione's warily.

“How did you know?” She asked and frowned as he scoffed.

“I'm going to guess that you're here to inform me of what you've just spent hours in the library researching. I know of no other reason for you to seek me out personally.”

“Draco.” Harry whispered, just soft enough for only Draco to hear. Silver-grey eyes cut across his face, meeting his briefly, but he just shook his head and nodded at them.

“What have you found?” It was rude, but the tone was polite enough and the lack of hostility made it very considerate, considering from whom it was coming.

“It's called Icarus Syndrome, informally.” She said gently as she approached the bed and looked at the odd chair. She glanced questioningly at Harry but he just shook his head with a quirk of his lips. “It is a familial betrayal curse. A blood family member can cast the curse, focusing on the victim's betrayal and a particular set of memories. After being cast, the victim will feel the effects the dawn of the next day by growing wings and being swept into the magic. The victim is dumped into a metaphorical ocean, whom the caster must believe will despise the victim to the point of wishing them death. If the victim speaks of what led to the curse or tries to kill himself or herself, they will be pulled into the magic and dumped into the ocean. It is unbreakable and a life-long curse as it doesn't die when the caster dies.”

Draco had paled further and further with each word and Harry felt an icy chill wrap around his chest. Unbreakable. He felt his eyes slip closed but started when Hermione began to speak again.

“It can drive you insane, Draco. But you can't let it! There are ways to fight this! You don't have to suffer alone through it! We can help!” The pure earnestness and belief in her words were her downfall, Harry knew from the moment they passed her lips and prepared for the inevitable strike.

“It's Black to you, Granger. You can promise that I won't have to be alone?” His voice cut her tone to shreds and he wasn't even trying. “Even inside my head? You want to sit by my side and hold my hand and tell me it'll all be okay? Will you learn the difficult and exhaustive methods of Occulmency to shield all my thoughts that may hurt me? Keep me from thinking about it? Stop me from wondering why I ever deserved anything like this done to me? How noble. I'm afraid that I will have to ask you to leave, Granger.” Hermione looked stricken and afraid. Draco's tone was chilling and despondent, cutting through her earnestness like a blade through water.

“Now wait one minute! All she's trying to do is help you, you ungrateful ferret!” Ron thundered and loomed over the boy. His field of vision was obstructed by the wild patch of black hair that was suddenly in his face. Stunned, he looked down at Harry who was looking both concerned and wary. “Harry, what are you doing?”

“Just leave it, Ron. I'll talk to him.” He promised, looking over his shoulder at the other boy with blatant concern. Ron felt his face darkened as he turned away and strode to the door. “Could you leave it here, Hermione?”

She looked at Ron's back and Harry, who was still acting too concerned and protective to someone that he hadn't cared about a week ago. She handed off the book and swept toward the door, unsettled by Harry's seeming disregard of Ron's temper.


-X-

“Draco.”

“No. I won't apologize. It's not her suffering under the curse, is it? She's not going to be the one to live with it. No. Whatever help she offers is through pity. I don't need it. I don't need her or anyone else!” He was near to hyperventilating. Alarmed, Harry reached out and gently laid a hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco jerked away, suddenly shoving at him. “No! Get out of here! I want to be alone!”

“Draco, you need to talk about this! Just talk to me! I'm in this mess too!”

“You're in it too?! So what?! You think I care?! What's the worst that happens to you?! Suddenly finding me crashing down on you! You don't have to live with the pain and memories! You don't have to live with the betrayal of your own father!” He screamed out, shoving at Harry's chest with both hands. He wasn't strong enough to even budge him, and his arms were shaking. “Get out of here! I don't want you here!”

Draco shoved him as hard as he could and felt something break inside. His hands began to glow like a fire and when he pushed, they ignited like a firework and threw Harry toward the door. The bright magic danced around the distressed boy on the bed, after throwing the Gryffindor against the wall next to the open door. Harry winced as he tried to rise up onto his feet and felt nauseous as he rose onto his knees. His head throbbed and he felt something warm trickle down his neck. Surprised and hurting, he met stunned and upset silver eyes through a storm of flame-colored magic.

“Draco?” He held it together as he stood up, stumbling back against the wall as he lost his balance. Draco looked even more distressed and the magic swirled irritably.

“I'm...so sorry. I don't know what's...” He stared at his palms and the fluctuating magic and met Harry's eyes again. Silver swirled just as furiously as the magic, and Harry couldn't do anything to reassure him. His vision was going fuzzy around the edges and he was gradually losing the battle with gravity. He fought to keep his eyes open and his feet on the ground, but it wasn't going too well. The magic pulsed at him, rumbling like thunder.

“Draco, it's okay. I know it was an accident. I'm...not....” But the words wouldn't form and his sight steadily grew darker. He felt the fierce magic ripple over him, making his head pulsate painfully. Draco's eyes were horrified and he struggled out of the bed.

“Potter!” He was swaying on his feet but made his way as quickly to the falling boy as possible. The magic stirred around him, more and more appearing between the two. It felt like fog as he tried to pass through but it grew thicker and thicker each step. The magic was swallowing him, even as he cut through it. “Harry!”

As soon as he screamed the word, the magic swept aside. He ran through the suddenly clear path, kneeling at Harry's crumpled form. He worriedly rolled him over, careful to cradle his head in his palms. Harry groaned as he was moved, fingers flexing reflexively. Draco tried to calm himself as he thought through the situation.

He wasn't good in crises. That was why he was rarely in battle. He panicked and things always turned out worse for him. Calm. Exactly what he told Potter he'd teach him. Draco calmed himself and he noticed the magic slow as well. It stirred as he raised a hand, being drawn toward it and when he pulled it away, the magic withdrew and formed a cloud again. A thought struck him and he drew together his scattered nerves.

He moved Harry carefully to his lap and winced as the blood on the back of his skull began to stain his pajamas. He cupped his hands up and magic pooled in his palms. It felt warm, like a candle flame. Somehow, he controlled this magic.. He forced the magic to cover his palms as he separated them and lowered them to Harry's head. He could feel the pain throbbing through his hands and he could feel the skin stitch itself as he pushed magic into it. He felt something shove back at the magic and it was cold and sharp. The magic that was swirling around him became more chaotic as the cold mass shoved at his hands.

He was too focused on the magic to hear Harry's groan or see his eyes flutter. The throbbing he'd associated with the head injury was dissipated, but the cold energy was pulsating under his hands and forcing him away. It pushed at him hard and the red and gold magic was suddenly between him and Harry like a shield. Purplish magic swirled green and black rose from Harry's prone body and pressed into him. The red and gold magic began to expand and cover him in a dome-like shield as the cold magic crashed over him.

“Draco.” Harry whispered and his eyes cracked open. He felt like he was being smothered. “Draco.”

“Potter! Wake up and stop this!” Draco was crouched on the floor, watching this mess happen. This was scaring him, to be honest. “Harry Potter! Get your lazy arse up and help me, Hero Boy!”

His head wasn't hurting as bad but something cold was pressing down on him. His eyes widened as he realized what was going on. His eyes were open, he wasn't out cold anymore, but the magic was covering his vision. He reached out, feeling where it slipped the boundaries Pomfrey advised him to pay attention to. He grabbed the cold magic and reeled it back into his body, feeling it struggle against his bonds. Voldemort's magic was wild and hard to control. He was lucky that nothing horrible had happened when it escaped his bonds the last time.

“Draco, are you okay?” He asked as he sat up. He looked back but Draco was still covered in that swirling magic. “Draco?”

“Potter? What happened? Why isn't this moving?!” He could hear faint pounding, and realized Draco was hitting the inside of the shield.

“It's your magic!” He pressed a hand on the shield and drew his hand back with a muted gasp as it shocked him. “Will it to obey!”

“What?! My magic?!” He couldn't hear the rest of his words, but he knew for a fact Draco was ranting.

“Draco! Shut up and force the magic to obey! It responds to your will! Just concentrate on what you want it to do and it will obey!”

“Hero, if this doesn't work-!” He let the sentence hang and Harry watched with relief as it began to pull away. Harry felt his heart stutter when he saw the blood but realized it was his from when he hit his head. The red and gold magic drew over himself and covered his skin. His scars glowed briefly as the magic was absorbed into his skin. Draco's wide and scared eyes had him kneeling in front of the startled boy.

“Draco, are you okay?” He covered Draco's hand and winced at the relief that flooded those silver eyes. Draco was supposed to be the strong one that was hard to read. Not the foolish Gryffindor that wore his heart on his sleeve.

“What just happened?” He touched the scars on his cheek and traced the thin line. “Was that because of the curse?”

“I don't know.” Harry helped him up and supported him as Draco shakily made his way to the bed. “I'll read that book Hermione found with you. We'll figure it out. We need to tell the Headmaster and Snape. They'll help if the book doesn't.”

“Could...Could you wait to tell them?” Draco grabbed the unnamed and old book, resting it on his knees. He began to flip through the book, trying to find the page. He was trying to be nonchalant but his shaking hands were too obviously telling his nerves.

“Whatever you want, Draco.” He promised softly and resumed his place. He hesitated as he moved to place his arm against Draco's back, but his hesitation and nerves melted away as Draco relaxed into it. He didn't know if the curse was cause for the need to be near the boy or the drive to shield and aid him, but he was damned it he didn't feel both. He wanted to be at his side every step of the way and the odd thing was that it didn't seem weird or unusual to him.

(1) This is a direct quote from the book Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes by Edith Hamilton, a Mentor Book from the New American Library, copyright renewed in 1969 by Dorian Fielding Reid. All rights reserved by Little, Brown & Company. It is the tale of Pygmalion and Galatea by Ovid pg. 108-111