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 bereft bcandii

NOTICE: I am in the market for a new beta! Bcandii has taken a leave and I need an individual to take her place. Benefits include reading Icarus Syndrome before it is posted in its raw and unfiltered form, possibly contributing ideas, definitely contributing knowledge and being my all around sound board. Please PM me if you're interested. I promise I don't bite.

Warnings: There will be content inside that you will not like and will be confused by. Due to both the length and my love of dangerous cliffhangers, this chapter has been split into two. This is Chapter Seven and Chapter Eight could be considered part two. Please keep an open mind about all characters. If you are truly concerned by the direction, please PM me and maybe, apply for the beta position and read what the hell it's all about.

Scieran Malfoy is an Original Character. He is a feasible fabrication from my imagination and into the Malfoy linage. Pius Thicknesse is not an original character but a ministry official located through hours of research. Likewise, Albert Runcorn is also a ministry official obtained through hours of research.

Thank you, dear readers, for the hits, reviews, alerts and favorites. An author loves to know their work is appreciated. I am impressed so far by the amount of attention this has garnered so far. Please keep it up.

-X-

“Lucius.” She caught his arm as he faltered and guided him to the couch. His skin was whiter than she had ever seen and sweat began to form on his brow. “Was that the first exchange?”

He nodded, hair swinging limp around his shoulders. He panted and flinched as the cushion pressed into a new wound. His entire back became soaked as the cloth stuck to his back. Narcissa snapped for elves and waited anxiously for them to return with supplies.

“What will you do? Surely, he'll notice something. The Manor has yet to change allegiance as it should for the Heir. He'll notice and end this before the sacrifice is complete.” Narcissa helped him pull the robes off to heal his back. The pattern she knew was etched into her son's was duplicated into Lucius's back. If Draco had suffered half as much as this...No. He had suffered twice this cruelty and that was the point. Lucius would have died at her hand if there had been no true reason for his cruelty.

“He'll notice nothing. Not until the magic is with Draco. And then it will be too late. His ties are already very strained, with the Manor's Heir so close to ascension.” He panted and winced as Narcissa cleaned and healed his back as well as she was able. “I would have never wished this on our son.”

“I know.” She said, voice as sharp as steel and yet as soft as silk. “You would already be dead if you abused my son in such a way for no just cause. If that man was not threatening him...If he had picked any other child to be the example of the Ministry...If you were not using such ancient rituals...”

“There are too many suppositions.” Lucius said. Already, a large gap of his hereditary magic was gone, and with it his ability to control parts of the Manor. The last exchange would take every last bit of Malfoy Hereditary Magic from his body and it would pass to the closest male Heir. If that Light bastard thought he would make an example of the Malfoys by taking their very heritage from them, well, he would be rudely surprised.

Scieran Malfoy was perhaps the most cunning and influential wizards of his age. When Icarus' Curse was rampant, he created a counter-curse, an incomplete Curse. It was passed from Heir to Heir, so that the family would never leave the family, that the Manor would be tied to them forever. Blood was blood. He created in a single night, Daedalus's Sacrifice. It had the exact same symptoms as the Icarus Curse, excepting one detail. The father would exchange his magic for his son's life, and the magic would go to the Heir. All titles were passed through Hereditary Magic. The Malfoy fortune, grounds, estates, history, everything was tied to the hereditary passed in blood from Sire to Heir. A son thought to be exiled has been able to lead a revolution to victory, possessing both the blood and hereditary magic needed to command the Manor and entire force of generations of breeding.

Any enemies who had driven the Malfoys to this point of paternal sacrifice were few and far between. But this was a new age, one of the half-blood and muggleborn. Purebloods would be at a low time in history, degraded with their hands tied with Ministry law. He wouldn't allow this behemoth to threaten his family. No. Draco would not be sacrificed to this creation. He would be protected at the cost of Lucius' own life.

-X-

“I just can't believe him, Hermione! Why would he defend that Slytherin?! The ferret's probably already spat out some poor, pity-me story and Harry's lapped it up. He's always been a manipulative, deceitful little wanker! It isn't right, Hermione!”

“Ron, please.” Hermione took his arm and held onto it pleadingly. “Harry hasn't betrayed us and he's not getting sucked into lies. I know he isn't. He's still the same Harry. It's Draco...Black who's changed. I'm not saying that he's changed a lot or completely, but I am saying that he's different. He didn't torment us last year at all. He fought for our side. He's at least settled down.”

“Then explain to me why Harry can't see that he's still the spiteful brat he's always been. Why he would step between that slimy ferret and me!”

“Harry's not cold, Ron. He wouldn't allow anyone to hurt someone else. Draco's worst weapon has always been his tongue. You could have really hurt him. He's in the Hospital Wing for a reason. No magic, no strength. Harry saw that and defended the weaker person. He hasn't changed at all.”

“Yeah.” Ron sighed and slumped back against the wall. “I don't notice stuff like that. I know Harry hasn't changed, but it hurts to see him so quick to protect that brat.”

“He's too kind. I'm not sure why Lucius chose Harry, but I know he can't have intended that.” She smiled at him gradually and tentatively laced their fingers together. “Let's get some lunch, okay? We can go to the kitchens and get whatever you want.”

Ron smiled at her, falling into step and steadfastly ignoring the faint blush on his face. She was pretty amazing. Definitely too good for him.

-X-

Harry took the book from Draco's limp hands. The Slytherin was mostly asleep now, though it was a light and fearful sleep. How had Draco faced the dawn of the next day? It was frightening to him. He had never faced a curse when he would have to wait out the malicious effects. What it must be like to sit there and think only of this stupid curse? To close your eyes one minute, only to bolt awake the next, afraid you may sleep too long and never wake up?

He was reluctant to move away from Draco now. He cast his eyes around the room before settling on the cushion on the Headmaster's conjured chair. This would test his magic as much as it would help Draco sleep. He briefly thought about grabbing his wand, but decided instead to test the cold, new magic with wandless magic. He felt the cold magic reach into his fingertips, and felt it passed colorlessly toward the cushion. He raised it carefully and concentrated on transforming the cushion.

The magic covered the cushion, and he forced the image of a soft, silk covered pillow into his mind. He focused on the feel of silk, the weight of a pillow, the level of comfort he wanted it to provide. He felt the magic change the cushion, but he had closed his eyes for concentration. The magic stirred and began to withdraw and he focused all his attention on it. The cold magic warmed slowly, becoming more familiar with him. He pulled it back and opened his eyes.

He floated the perfect silver silk pillow toward him and caught it with a shaking hand. His magic had not only obeyed him without his wand, it had accepted a small part of Voldemort's magic. This was the first thing he'd done right with that magic. And it was all for...Draco's benefit. He slipped the pillow behind Draco and settled the Slytherin against it.

Draco relaxed with the trust of a child, curling towards Harry but tucking a hand under his chin and under the silk pillow. He breathed so softly Harry couldn't even see his chest move. He pulled the white blanket up to his shoulder and gathered the books from the bed. He placed the books on the bedside table and looked between Draco and the door.

Harry slipped from the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He'd find some quiet place elsewhere, away from his friends, classmates and professors. He'd think about this and test his magic. He would learn meditation from Draco like he promised, but he could use this time to reflect on why the magic responded so differently in regards to his wishes when it was for Draco.

-X-

Pius Thicknesse was not an especially cunning or formidable man. He was rather loathsome and malleable, as his mind was so well accustomed to possession. Rufus would have had a small amount of pity for this man had he not been so weak and useless in the first place. Well, useless, he supposed was a rather harsh word. Nearly killing him in an unexpected Death Eater coup was both an example of usefulness mixed with weakness. If he hadn't spotted the wavering Imperius Curse, he'd have never found how easily this Ministry was to run if all the players were under his control.

“Bring the documents to me.” He ordered, letting the man enter his office under some supposedly important errand. Thicknesse was pitied because of his unwanted Death Eater tie, but he was respected in the same instance. That was partly why no one ever questioned when he placed the man in a minor branch of the Ministry, away from any Death Eater activity or Dark Magic completely. It made obtaining these documents all the easier. He took them from the limp hand and began to read through them.

Anything from Albert Runcorn was highly suspicious in its accuracy, but he knew these documents could not be falsified. His look into his genealogy had proved to be more profitable than anything he'd ever done. Imagine, a lifetime with that blood coursing through his veins and he had been totally unaware. There was a map to a literal fortune of kings written in his blood. He only needed to usurp that little child Death Eater to ensure it would fall to him.

-X-

Draco felt that Harry was gone moments before he opened his eyes. He scanned the room as he came fully awake, seeing the books on the table and oddly enough the cushion on the chair missing. He rested against the supremely comfortable pillow which had appeared from nowhere. He felt the hum of magic under his skin, but it was more relaxed and integrated than when it had appeared as a firestorm before.

“Tempus.” He concentrated on how he said the word and focused on the palm of his hand. Magic stirred under it and the time began to write itself above his palm in the same crisp handwriting he used on Potions homework. It was late, far passed supper, and he wasn't sure if Madam Pomfrey had been by to check on him, or if he had any other visitors at all.

He reached for the small bell on the other side of the table which would summon a house elf when patients were unable to provide for themselves. He didn't want to think about what his magic might do if he called for any house elf.

“Master is calling for Tully's help?” The house elf had the same big eyes as he remembered Dobby having.

“Yes, could you bring me some of whatever is left from supper, please?” He barely remembered to be polite to the elf. Granger's little project had apparently won ground with more of the muggleborn students who retained a bit of knowledge about muggle slavery.

Apparently, house elves were still suffering under the same yolk of intolerance as some past muggles and it was unethical to simply stand by and allow slavery to happen. It was rubbish in his mind. House elves existed by being bound to a home. Without a home, they became weaker and weaker. House elves shared the magic of both land and family. What Granger encouraged would only destroy elves and families. Elves shared a family's magic in turn for serving the family.

“Of course, Master, Tully can fetch whatever you is wishing.” She vanished in another crack of magic and as he waited he wondered what was going on outside these walls.

Was his mother writing to him? Had she already? Would she if she hadn't? What about his father? They all knew that Lucius would have been the one to cast it on him. Were they even now taking legal matters into their hands? He couldn't bear it if they were. He meant what he'd told Potter. He couldn't implicate his father. Not even for his own life and sanity.

-X-

“Harry?”

Harry looked up to see Ginny and Neville seated near the fire, moving apart when they saw the portrait open but relaxing when it was only him.

“Hey Gin, Nev.” He nodded and then made a show of looking around. “Have either of you seen Ron or Hermione about?”

“No. I saw them in the library earlier.” Ginny said, taking Neville's hand. “But that was really early, and I don't think they're there anymore.”

“Probably not.” Harry agreed. “Well, if they show up, you haven't seen me.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Gotcha Harry.” Neville smiled slightly, eyes sparkling gently. “I haven't seen you all day, in fact.”

“Thanks.” He smiled in gratitude and made his way to the dormitory. He'd contemplated long enough and had a semblance of what was going on. He would have to read more about Draco's curse to fully understand. It had to be something to do with Draco appearing to him. He hadn't appeared because of Ron or Hermione. He was the one and it was effecting his magic.

So much still felt cold and unwelcome, but he had a firmer idea on how to manage Voldemort's magic. Everything he did would have to be for Draco's benefit, and if he kept it under control, it would ease itself into his existing magic. Hopefully, they would be able to determine what Draco's magic had done earlier. As amusing as it was that his magic took Gryffindor colors, being slammed into things because of it wasn't amusing at all. He couldn't feel the pain anymore, Draco had taken care of that, but he remembered it very clearly.