Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Chapter 23 - Reunion

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In the darkness, the blood to his brain cut off by the steel grip of Draco Malfoy, Harry's sight began to fail, tunnelling in at the pale face of anger before him. He could hear only the squealing of rats, fighting over the pickings of their dead cousins, the raspy puffs of Draco's breath, and the ever quieting thud-thump of his own heart.

"I've wanted this in so many ways, Harry," hissed Draco through his gritted teeth, fully exposing his two bloodsucking fangs and sending a splattering of saliva across Harry's face. "So many ways."

"Draco, please," mouthed Harry silently, holding Draco's wrists, but unable to pull himself free.

"The taste of your--"

"Help me."

There was a flash of recognition in Draco's eyes that wasn't there a moment earlier. Suddenly, the grip released and both young men fell to the floor.

Heaving in huge gulps of air, Harry reached for his throat with one hand and pulled his wand with the other.

"Stupefy," he gasped. Nothing happened. Draco lay prone on the floor laughing sadly to himself. "STUPEFY!" Draco only laughed more, a laugh that quickly turned to a deep, rattling cough. Still coughing, Draco turned over onto all fours. The cough worsened and ended with a retching sound that resulted in Draco hacking up a ball of bloody sputum onto the mucky, straw strewn floor.

"That's not good," he said, wiping his mouth with his arm. Then he collapsed, falling face forward into the filth. The rats were on him at once. He couldn't, or wouldn't move. As much as Harry wanted to murder Malfoy, he wouldn't let him be ripped to pieces by rodents. He hurried over and began to kick them away.

"Get away from him!" he yelled. There were so many, Harry decided to call for help, muttering, "Winston," to himself. But before he could call out, Draco stopped him.

"No," he breathed. "No others."

"Draco, I..." He kicked another. "I can't stop them!"

"H-Help me up," Draco asked weakly, holding out one arm towards Harry as rats clawed at his already tattered clothes. Instinctively, Harry moved to help his fallen adversary, but hesitated. He was nearly destroyed by such a move before, by Grigor, Gabriella's father. Another rat began to claw at Draco's face.

"Harry," Draco whispered, falling back to the floor. A swarm of rats covered his head.

Finally, Harry could bear it no more and he lifted Draco away from the writhing swarm of fur and gnashing teeth. That's when Draco noticed the black onyx ring on Harry's finger. "P- Pravus," he stuttered, grabbing the hand that bore the ring in his own and gathering his strength as best he could.

"Focus... your mind," Draco breathed. "The ring... surely you must know. Command them."

Instantly, Harry felt warmth run from the joined hands and up his arm. For a moment, he heard, or felt, Draco's thoughts.

"Of course," Harry whispered, recalling the ability vampires had to control the minds of others. He took in a breath and concentrated on the swarm below.

Together, both young men began to reach out their minds, speaking to, instructing the rats below to leave at once. Harry could hear their voices cry out in hunger, but heard also an almost rhythmic command of Draco, telling them that there was danger, that they needed to flee for their lives. The scrum of rats stopped. One, then another, ran to a crack in the far wall. Soon, they began to fight each other to escape. Before long, Draco and Harry were alone; both sat back to the floor, exhausted. Draco, a skeletal shadow of the man he once was, held up Harry's hand in his own.

"I've heard the stories about this ring," he said with wonder. "I've seen pictures, but never dreamed..." He chuckled to himself, pulling the ring closer, trying to examine its blackness in the dim light. He looked at Harry. "You don't have a clue, do you?" Harry remained silent. "With your powers, Harry, there's nothing we couldn't accomplish together." There was a pause and he let go of Harry's hand.

"How the hell did you get it?" Draco asked. The voice was suddenly smug, arrogant, but before Harry could answer, the wind spilled out of Draco's sails and he followed with a tone that was much more sorrowful. "Damn it to Hades, Harry. Why did you come? You should have left me here to rot. I just want it over with."

His head fell back against the rock wall. And Draco tried to pull in a breath of air that didn't quite seem to satisfy his thirst for oxygen. He gulped for another. In the light, Harry could see the traces and windings of tiny, blue veins just under the pale skin of Draco's face and neck. It was there he saw them--two small, faintly red scars not much more than an inch apart. Unable to resist, Harry touched them; they were real.

"I... I thought... maybe, it was hoax," he muttered, moving somewhat away from Draco, who noticed the motion and sadly closed his eyes. With a thud, Draco slightly banged his head against the wall. Harry noticed straight away the agony on the blonde's face and regretted his own fear. He remembered back when students at Hogwarts would avoid him as he walked down the corridors - the Heir of Slytherin. He moved closer.

"Did it hurt?"

"I told you... Father's a madman." Draco kept his eyes closed, reaching up his right hand to the two marks on his neck. His fingers were trembling as he slid them against the two tiny scars. His breathing was growing more noticeable. "'Immortality, Draco!' I refused.

"But while I slept... without my willingness..." Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry. He gathered himself and provided his best Malfoyian drawl. "The finest vampire in all Britain turned me - an almost Royal bloodline dating back to the age of Morgana. Isn't that special?" He coughed. "Father says I should be proud. By the next moon--" He coughed again.

"Merlin," Harry gasped. Nothing his Uncle Vernon had ever done came close to--

"No," Draco corrected. "I said Morgana. Merlin was a Muggle loving, son of a--"

"Draco, when?" Harry interrupted.

"Just before we came to the Ministry. I must admit, I wasn't in best form; I could hardly stand, but he didn't care. His mind was bent on you. Father half-hoped we'd meet, you and I. 'If you see the bastard, go for his throat, Draco! Suck him dry!' I told him I would, but I wouldn't... I couldn't." Draco laughed again, and this time the coughing that followed was more pronounced. When the spasm past, he drew in a deep breath of air. "And now... damn, I must look awful. I feel it."

"Why don't you tell that bastard of a father of yours to go to hell?" Harry spat. "You don't need him. You don't need any of them." It did not elicit the response he expected. In a great whirl, Draco pounced on top of him, grabbing his throat once again, pressing Harry's head against the stone wall, only this time the grip was weak and Harry grabbed Draco's wrists, easily pulling them away.

"Worry about my father, when you have one of your own!" Draco cried, spitting into Harry's face. Draco's effort had drained him. His eyes were rolling in his head and it looked for a moment as if he might faint.

"My god, Draco, a stiff wind would blow you over." Draco began to chuckle. The chuckle grew to a laugh and he began to cough, falling off Harry and onto his side. Laugh-Cough-Laugh. Draco was obviously very ill and, perhaps, quite mad.

"You know what I mean," said Harry. The coughing stopped almost instantly and Draco crawled over to Harry, wheezing badly.

"Do I, Harry? Do I?" He moved closer, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You've never really been straight with me, have you?" He began to smile, and the growing snicker turned to another spasm of coughs. When they subsided, he pulled his hand away from his lips and found it bloodied.

"What's happening to you?" Harry asked.

"I guess a vampire doesn't survive on rat blood alone," Draco answered, wiping his hand against the wall. "It took some doing, but I finally learned to command them to come to me. It helped, but I guess not enough." He fell to one elbow, looking up at Harry who was still seated against the wall. "I had hoped you'd come sooner."

"I just found out! Your father's been keeping me a bit busy lately," Harry said curtly, ignoring the fact that Mr. Weasley had refused to let him visit. "I had to protect Singehorn's lands."

"He attacked the mountain?" Draco asked in disbelief, his voice raspy from the coughing. Harry wondered if this was why Dakhil's voice sounded more like steel dragging across pavement. "He wouldn't be so foolish to move so soon."

"It wasn't your father," answered Harry. "It was Voldemort."

"WHA... WHAT?" Draco' wheezing was growing more noticeable, his thirst for air more unquenchable.

"Voldemort has been reborn; he took control of the nearest body - your father. There was another Horcrux; not just the cloak, something else. But then... you knew about the cloak all along, didn't you, Draco?" His breathing growing more laboured by the minute, Draco did not respond. "DIDN'T YOU, DRACO?"

"I tried... I tried... It- doesn't- matter. You'd never understand." Draco swallowed, but there was nothing in his mouth to swallow. He let go another heaving cough that sprayed blood everywhere. Draco looked at his hands and dropped them to his sides. "Fuck. I'm dying." Harry grabbed him by the shoulders.

"You can't die, damn you!" he cried. "They have Gabriella! YOU CAN'T DIE!" Draco looked up as if he was about to say something, then looked away shaking his head and collapsed.

"NO!" Harry grabbed Draco and once more pulled him to a seated position. Draco's head hung limply to one side, his eyes closed.

"I won't lose her." Harry pulled the sleeve of his sweater up and held his wrist in front of Draco's mouth.

"Drink!" he yelled. Draco did not respond. He grabbed the blonde by his hair and forced his mouth about Harry's flesh. "Drink, you goddamn vampire!" Deliberately, Harry slid one of Draco's fangs against his flesh, slicing the skin. The reaction was immediate, instinctive - Draco began to feed, grabbing Harry's arm with both his hands and pulling it tight against his lips.

The draughts were long and hard as Draco drunk deeply. It was only a matter of seconds before Harry felt the effects of the blood being drained from his body. He tried to pull his arm away, but Draco held fast. He pulled again, but could not escape. Finally, he clubbed Draco on the side of the head with his fist and yanked his arm away. There was a screech of anger that rang from Draco's bloody lips. He moved to pounce on his weakened foe, but stopped, gathering his wits. He pushed himself backwards, away from Harry as quickly as he could, crawling into the darkened corner.

Harry looked down at his bloodied arm. Unwilling to damage the sweater, he reached up and tore his undershirt and wrapped the shredded cloth about his wrist.

"Better?" Harry asked the figure that had disappeared into the shadows.

"Better," came the response. The voice, for the first time since Harry had arrived at the cell, sounded like the voice of Draco Malfoy. "You... are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah," answered Harry sarcastically. "Peaches and cream over here, mate."

"Sorry," Draco whispered, walking out of the shadows and this time helping Harry to his feet. "A pint goes a long way, a gallon... well, that's to die for."

"I'll mark that down."

"How did you know? You know... that you could..." He gestured to Harry's arm.

"Knowledge is power," snipped Harry. "Some of my best friends are vampires." Draco smiled and nodded.

"I was being kind of an idiot," said Draco, suddenly trying to make himself more presentable. He tried to smooth out his hair, not realizing that his hands were covered in blood and his hair was so covered in filth it looked more brunette than blonde. "You know... erm... uttering gibberish and all that rot. I... I wouldn't, erm..." He pointed at Harry's neck.

"Right. Speaking of knowledge," Harry cut in, "you should know that Blaise is better. They lifted the Imperious curse. It was Voldemort the whole time."

"That's... that's good news," said Draco, almost as if trying to convince himself of the fact. "Blaise is... important to me. He's been there for me in more ways than you can possibly imagine. He risked his life... for me." Harry nodded, knowingly. "But if Voldemort had a hand in his actions, it's possible..." Draco's face grew alarmed. "Tell me at once - what do you know of my father and Voldemort?"

Harry didn't much like the tone, but for the next few minutes, he explained all that had transpired since Draco had been imprisoned. As intrigued as Draco was about Harry's new found powers, he asked more questions about the joining of Voldemort and his father. He was particularly concerned that Blaise may have let slip certain information.

"He'll kill me if he's found out," said Draco, leaning against the wall.

"You don't know that," answered Harry only guessing at what Draco meant.

"Oh... and I suppose you do," drawled Draco. Then the blonde began to speak to himself. "Maybe not, if he's the only one that knows; he'll try to use it to his advantage somehow. But, if I'm an embarrassment... or if he thinks I've been disloyal... I'm dead."

"You're being overly dramatic."

"I saw him use the Imperious Curse on Bellatrix for forgetting to add two sugars to his tea!" He spun toward Harry. "Was that overly dramatic?" Draco began to pace, tapping his fingers together in front of his chest.

"Sorry I wouldn't make the exchange. They tried to take me out during the day," he said to Harry over his shoulder, kicking at the pile of dead rat carcasses. "That's why I wouldn't go. I haven't yet learned to withstand the sun's rays. I... I won't let anyone know what I've become." He paced some more. "If I do this, it'll have to be by night."

"IF you do this?" bellowed Harry. "You'll do this or you're dead where you stand! I may not have a wand, but I can still kick your arse!"

"Do you think?" Draco asked, but more as if it was a question to himself. "That might work. What time is it now, Harry?"

"I don't know; not quite midnight, why? What are you going on about now?"

"It may be that the Dark Lord has found my father again, but he may have found someone more suitable to his needs. Someone that can get close enough to kill you."

"I don't need a reminder."

"Then stay vigilant. Trust no one."

"Does that include you?"

"Exactly! They may think that we are... friends. We can't let that happen. If there's even the slightest suggestion that..." Draco stepped over to Harry. "Hit me."

"Hit you?"

"You heard me. Hit me. It has to look good. I want your hands bloody and my face swollen. Everyone has to know that you hate me for putting your girl at risk. We may be under the sea, but word will get out... word always gets out." Harry just stared. "Go on, Harry, kick my arse! You know you always wanted to. Here's your chance."

"I'm not going to hit you, Draco. You may have had a little blood, but it's not enough for me to risk your life and I'm too damn tired."

"If you want your precious raven haired beauty to return to you, hit me!"

"There's got to be a better--" Draco reached back and belted Harry across the chin. The jolt sent stars flickering into Harry's vision. Harry fell to one knee and looked up at the Slytherin who now had his hands rolled into fists. He could taste the blood in his own mouth. "You bastard!"

Harry slammed his right fist into Draco's stomach, doubling him over like a folded lawn-chair. He then jabbed upwards, toward Draco's exposed face, snapping his head back with a sickening crack. Draco staggered backward as Harry stood up. There was blood streaming from Draco's nose.

"It's so much better than using a wand, don't you think, Harry? Flesh against flesh." He charged Harry and threw a punch that wildly missed. Again Harry caught him in the mid-section and then threw two punches that tossed Draco's head from one side to the other. A moment ago Harry didn't want to throw a punch. Now, he didn't want to stop.

Still bent over, Draco charged Harry again and this time caught him in his arms and threw him against the wall. The back of Harry's head slapped against the stone, drawing yet another trickle of red gold. Draco threw a punch that Harry just dipped away from and his hands crashed into the wall. With a yelp, the blonde reached up and began to claw at Harry's face and this time Harry could taste the blood on Draco's fingers. It was unnatural, almost sweet.

With his knee, Harry caught Draco between the legs and as he began to collapse, Harry bashed the back of his neck with both his fists curled together with a downward pounding. Draco was on his knees.

"Winston!" Harry cried. "Winston!"

Draco reached up and grabbed Harry by the waist of his pants and pulled him to the ground. He climbed upon him and began to strike madly at Harry's head. The door opened with a clank and a flash of red light filled the room, from where, Harry never saw. Draco was nearly lifted off the ground before he crumpled, unconscious at Harry's side.

"I'd kill the bloody bastard if I didn't need his sorry arse!" Harry yelled. "Drag him out of here!" Winston smiled as if enjoying a tasty desert.

"As you wish, Mr. Potter," he said, grabbing Malfoy by the back of his hair and dragging him along the ground. "Did he agree to the exchange then?"

"Do you hear him saying, no?" Harry sneered.

They made their way down the long and narrow corridor, Winston dragging Draco by his hair and Harry cursing Draco's name the whole way. Just as they were in the thick of the prisoners, Draco began to stir.

"Let go of me!" he yelled. "Let go of me!"

"Did you see what he did to my face?" Harry yelled. "Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch!" He kicked Malfoy soundly in the ribs. "You'll do the exchange, or I'll slice off your fingers, one-by-one! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

Winston just chuckled as he continued to drag Draco along.

"I'll kill you!" yelled Draco. "The first thing I'll do when I get back is hunt your arse down. I'll have your heart on a pike!"

"You do that!" Harry challenged and then spat at Draco. "I'll be waiting!"

The prisoners all began to jeer at Harry and cry out support for Draco. "Kill him, Master Malfoy! We're with you! In the Dark Lord's name! Kill Potter!"

It wasn't long before the three made it into the antechamber. No one said a word as Winston bound Draco's arms behind his back, cinching them particularly tight. Where James was, or Winston's wife for that matter, Harry did not know - they were no where to be seen. Winston offered Harry a cool towel for his face, but nothing more. Then he placed his hand against the door that led to the sea and uttered some sort of incantation. He reached over and took his keys off the hook and unlatched the door. When it opened, not a drop of water flowed into the antechamber. Harry punched Draco in the back.

"Get moving, slime. One false move and you can take a crash course in underwater drowning." Draco moved forward as the other two followed, Winston sealing the door behind them. When they reached the island, the stars were flickering brightly and in the night sky, approaching from the east, Ebyrth glowed.

"Oh my," said Winston. It was the first such tone he'd heard from the key keeper. "Do you see that star? Or is it a comet?"

"You see it?" asked Harry. It was the first time anyone other than a Centaur had professed such.

"It's like a glowing diamond, just like in the books," said Winston almost in a whisper. "They say it's what all this nastiness is about with the Centaurs. I don't much see why people care." This made Draco laugh which cost him another slap by Harry who had noticed that the marks on Draco's face were already healing.

"You know how to treat them, don't you Mr. Potter?" Winston asked. "I doubted at first, but I see now, you understand."

"The exchange?" Harry asked, ignoring the comment.

"Yes... yes..." said Winston, pulling a small glass orb from his pocket. "Here sir," he offered it to Harry. "It's a Portkey." Harry withdrew his hand.

"Portkey?" I don't want to go flying into Malfoy's minions. Winston laughed.

"No sir," he said with a chuckle, "nor do I. It's an exchange Portkey, sir. Only when both prisoners are holding the orb simultaneously, and only the two prisoners, will the exchange take place. "You can hand it to the boy, or stuff it in his face."

Harry looked at Draco. His face was swollen, one eye was clotted over, and he smelled worse than a troll. Then he realized, shoving the orb in Draco's mouth would add a nice touch upon delivery. While Winston wasn't looking, Harry offered and Draco nodded, opening his mouth. Harry shoved the ball in and noticed that the fangs had disappeared. He was about to whisper in Draco's ear when the Slytherin vanished in his arms. Harry looked around nervously.

"Well?" he asked impatiently. "Where is she? Where is--" There was a flash of white light and Gabriella appeared. She was in a seated position when she arrived, but then crumpled to the ground. Harry was at her side in an instant. Her eyes were shut, but she was breathing.

"Gabriella! Gab! Are you okay?" Harry called out, but there was no movement. "GAB!"

"Sir," said Winston, "it isn't safe here. You must return with her at once." Harry looked at him, puzzled. "Your key, sir."

Holding Gabriella in his arms, Harry pulled the white envelope out of his pocket and clutched the golden key inside. There was a swoosh, and he was gone.

Winston looked up once more at Ebyrth and turned back to the dungeons, shaking his head. As he continued to climb down, his keys jangled at his side, his fingers rubbing against their metal surface. He stopped once more, looking back at the icy, night sky and muttered, "I love it when two people hate each other so much."