Veniam Dare

"Don't look back. Something might be gaining on you." -Satchel Paige

"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." -Plato

*~*~*

Veniam Dare Chapter 4: Hot Breath

Molly Weasley knelt down by her son's hospital bed, sniffing loudly and obviously trying to hide her tears. Fleur Delacour, silvery hair shining even in her grief, sat on the other side of the ward, looking just as stricken.

"Oh, Bill," Mrs. Weasley lamented, still unable to take in the sight of her eldest child's torn body with dry eyes. The infamous and bloodthirsty werewolf Fenrir Greyback had attacked him during the fight at Hogwarts, and it was all Mrs. Weasley could do not to burst into tears at the sight of her son.

"Eet iz okay, Mrs. Weezley! I weel take care of Bill!" Fleur said as she swooped closer to Bill, hands clasped over her chest.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood to the back of the room, all looking similarly subdued.

"At least we know Bill will be all right, even if he does happen to have a new penchant for rare meat..." Hermione said in a brave attempt at lightening the mood.

When the news had spread that the mission was accomplished, that Dumbledore was dead, all the Death Eaters had fled the castle. The Order members soon followed suit, gathering up the wounded (though luckily no dead) and bringing them to St. Mungo's, too shocked and frightened to remain inside the hallowed walls of Hogwarts. With Dumbledore gone, so soon after he had regained his standing in the Wizarding world, everything had plunged into chaos. It was said that the Death Eaters were now inhabiting Hogwarts, waiting to ambush the Order when they inevitably came to reclaim the grounds.

Ginny nodded in a subdued manner. "Yeah. I wonder if Harry's all right, though. Mum left him alone with Malfoy this morning, and she said she was so shocked by the news about Bill that she didn't even tell him where she was going."

Hermione looked concerned. "That's a good point. Maybe we could try fire calling him? I'm sure he'd appreciate the break from Malfoy, although I shudder to imagine the mood he's in."

Ron chuckled grimly. "Poor bloke. I can't even picture what it'd be like to spend a whole day alone with that prick."

"Language, Ron!" Mrs. Weasley reprimanded from beside Bill's bed, appearing to have collected herself somewhat. Ron rolled his eyes, but Mrs. Weasley continued anyway, a little sternly. "There's a fireplace in the lobby, but don't talk too long. Harry doesn't know anything yet, about Dumbledore and...well, you know, so..." she hesitated, "just be careful how you tell him." Concern shined through her eyes.

Hermione nodded in comprehension, and then grabbed Ron by the arm to drag him out of the room, Ginny tagging along behind.

Several minutes later, they had the Floo up and running, and a fire call going. Ron knelt on the hard stone floor of the hospital room as he stuck his head into the green flames.

"Harry, mate!" he called as Grimmauld Place's living room spun into focus around him. This type of psuedo-Flooing was always a bit awkward and uncomfortable, and left him slightly queasy. It was a strange sensation, to have one's head transported to a different area without its accompanying body.

There was no answering yell, and Ron frowned. "Harry?" he said again, louder. There was still no response.

From inside St. Mungo's, Hermione was smiling a little, rather enjoying the view of her boyfriend's backside. Ginny, however, was much less pleased with the situation. It had been nearly five minutes and Ron hadn't even bothered to pull out and brief them on how Harry was dealing, nor give them a chance to speak to him themselves.

She poked Ron sharply in the arse, and he pulled his head sharply out of the fireplace. "What?" he said shortly.

"What's Harry saying?" Ginny whined impatiently.

"Nothing! He's not even there! I've been shouting for him for five bloody minutes already!"

Hermione gave him a quizzical look. "Maybe he just can't hear you."

"Hermione, I've been screaming my bloody lungs out. If he can't hear me, he's bloody deaf," Ron deadpanned.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Just how many times do you have to say 'bloody' in a sentence?"

Hermione, still staring at Ron, ignored her. "Well, he's got to be there somewhere. It's not like he can just up and run away. Grimmauld Place is heavily warded."

A strange light flooded Ron's eyes as something clicked in his mind. "What if...what if Malfoy did something to him? Like tied him up, or gagged him, or knocked him out?"

Ginny's eyes also widened. "After all Dumbledore sacrificed...after all he gave up, just so that little ferret could escape what he got himself into in the first place!"

Trying to be reasonable, Hermione shook her head. "I don't see how that's possible. Grimmauld Place is monitored and guarded, and surely Phineas' portrait would have reported any suspicious activity. Besides, Harry can take care of himself. He defeated a Basilisk when he was twelve, I'm sure he can handle a ferret like Malfoy at sixteen."

Ron sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Harry would never let Malfoy do anything to him." He chuckled to himself. "Though I'd like to see Malfoy try...imagine the damage Harry'd do to him."

Hermione laughed too, but Ginny was not amused. "But that still doesn't explain why he wasn't answering Ron! Harry would never miss a chance to talk with us!"

"He could be in the shower or something, Ginny," Hermione soothed. "Harry's fine, he can take care of himself. We'll be back at Grimmauld Place later this afternoon, and then we'll get to talk to him in person."

Ginny looked a little comforted, and nodded sheepishly. "You're right, Hermione, of course. You're right. We'll see him later this afternoon, in person."

Hermione smiled reassuringly, and grabbed Ron's hand, walking him out of the Flooing room. Ginny, once again, followed behind.

*~*~*

In an entirely different part of the United Kingdom, the aforementioned Harry was in a bit of a spot.

The hot breath of the creature from the deep of the Forbidden Forest poured into Harry's nose, filling it with the stench of rot and decay. For a second, Harry felt like he was choking on the stink, his lungs unable to draw air, until a small sensation penetrated his fogged senses.

He could feel a patch of warmth where Draco's arm brushed his own, although the owner of the arm seemed just as completely paralyzed as Harry. Still, the idea that there was another person beside him, even if that person was Draco Malfoy, reminded Harry that he was not alone, and that he was, moreover, Harry Potter, the Boy Who always Lived.

It really wouldn't do to die in the Forbidden Forest, with Malfoy as the only witness to the supposed epic hero Harry Potter's demise. And, Harry thought, raising his chin a little in determination, trying to meet whatever eyes the strange, terrifying creature had, I think I have to defeat Voldemort first, right? Isn't that how the story goes?

Time seemed to stand still as Harry cracked an inexplicable smile, turned to Draco, grabbed his hand (now soaked in sweat from their interminable stare-down with the wicked-toothed creature), and shoved him over, hard, into the undergrowth. He landed on top of Draco, who was too startled to even groan as Harry's weight fell upon him.

As they hit the forest floor with a painful-sounding thud, time immediately started to move again, and Harry, Draco, and the monster were once again caught up in its merciless current.

The creature, all gleaming red-stained teeth and dark, blackened scales, hesitated not a moment longer, springing on the boys with another screech that chilled their very bones.

Harry, reflexes racing, shot out his wand, which was still held in the hand not attached to Draco, taking precise aim at the creature. "Stupefy!" he yelled as he scrambled to his feet, pulling Draco with him. The red jet of light grazed the creature's scaly head, prompting another angry screech.

Draco, thoughts now in some semblance of order, seemed to steel himself up a bit, and, following Harry's lead, stuck out his own wand, shouting, "Expelliarmus!"

This spell hit the creature directly in the chest, but instead of penetrating the blue-black scales, merely bounced off, rebounding at Harry and Draco. The two deftly ducked the spell, and then turned around and jumped behind two separate trees in opposite directions, letting go of each other's hands.

Harry's eyes flicked from Draco's position to the creature's, which was still screeching gratingly and looking between the two boys, apparently deciding which to go after. Harry, not wanting to miss what could be his only chance, shouted, "Stupefy," again, this time with better aim.

The spell, although it hit its target dead on, bounced off just as Draco's had. "Damn," Harry cursed under his breath, as the creature immediately turned toward him and started charging.

"Potter," Draco yelled, frustrated, from behind his tree, "I think we've already ascertained that spells can't get through its scales!"

Harry, who had just jumped behind another tree in an effort to evade the oncoming monster, sniped back, "Then what do you suggest, Malfoy? Everything has a weak spot, and besides, I'm not going to sit here and wait to be eaten!"

If Harry had been in a position to notice, he would have seen a very strange look flicker across Draco's features. Draco himself couldn't decide if his next words were out of panic or actual concern, although at the moment it didn't much matter. "You're not going to die, Harry!" he hissed, almost angrily, before holding out his wand unsteadily before him. "Incarcerous!" he intoned shakily, unsure of himself.

Ropes flew from the wand, wrapping half-heartedly around the creature, who easily brushed them away.

Thoughts rushed through Draco's head in double-time, and, with a horrified glance at Harry, he realized that the other had tripped in an effort to get away, and was now laying sprawled out on the leaves, scrambling to get up but somehow trapped by a root. Meanwhile, the creature, only momentarily distracted by the failed ropes, reached out a clawed, bludgeon-like paw toward Harry's prone form. With another jolt, Draco noticed that Harry had dropped his wand several meters from where he was now laying.

Draco could just envision the claws closing in on Harry's midriff as he was raised the creature's mouth, devoured alive. Or, perhaps if Harry were lucky, the claws would simply split him clean in two before he was eaten.

A sudden shout snapped Draco out of his thoughts. "Draco!" Harry called, a note of panic in his childhood rival's voice that Draco had never heard before, not even through all of Draco's taunts and pranks in school. Draco! The cry echoed through his mind, and he found his body acting of its own accord.

"INCARCEROUS!" Draco bellowed, putting all his will and focus behind the spell.

He shivered as the rush of magic pushed through him, focusing in his wand before exiting through the tip. This time, the ropes, gradually changing from strings of violet light to thick, solid ropes in midair, snapped out and towards the creature, who struggled but could do nothing to escape their grasp. It fell to the ground in a heap of black and blue, writing inside the bindings fruitlessly.

Harry, still lying spread-eagled on the ground, sighed in relief as he saw Draco's win. "Thanks," he said, sitting up and easily untangling his leg from the protruding root.

Draco attempted to sniff haughtily, but ended up simply taking a deep breath. "I suppose we should get out of here," he said loudly in an effort to be heard over the frenzied shrieking of the trapped creature.

Harry made no sign of agreement, but picked his wand up off the ground, walking a little closer towards the creature. At first, Draco thought 'are you insane?' but refused to say this out loud on the grounds that it might make him sound concerned for Potter, or something else equally silly and improbable.

Still, the concern was undoubtedly there. He couldn't account for the wild panic he felt when the creature had been about to kill Harry. Draco had been completely safe at the moment, able, even, to escape altogether. But instead he had remained, and even saved Harry's life.

Perhaps it was simply because it was him and Potter now, all alone in the big, bad Forbidden Forest. If Potter perished, there would be no other friendly creature within miles, and Draco would probably get hopelessly lost, dying somewhere in the forest's depths. For once, he was reliant on Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding world, to save him as well. The thought caused him a little faintness in the head.

He had no reason to worry, however, because Harry simply took two steps towards the creature, then raised his wand and uttered, "Stupefy!" aiming right between the creature's eyes.

To Draco's surprise, the spell wasn't reflected back, instead stunning the creature and abruptly cutting off its terrible screams.

"Got to hit in the soft spot, like I grazed earlier, and use lots of magic," Harry muttered, then let out a breath and turned to Draco, a lopsided grin on his face. "Shall we?" he offered, dazedly proffering a hand.

Draco, utterly confused and exhausted at everything that had just happened, decided to simply follow Harry's lead. He inclined his head to signal acquiescence, and took a step forward, only to have his stomach rumble rather loudly.

"Hungry, eh?" Harry laughed, and the carefree tinkling sound actually made Draco smile slightly, although he did his best to mask it with a smirk.

"We haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday, Potter. Any reasonable person would be hungry," Draco huffed.

This prompted another chuckle from Harry, although it sounded borderline manic and made Draco look at him oddly. "What're you looking at, Malfoy?" Harry asked giddily.

"Obviously an unhinged lunatic coming off an adrenaline high," Draco responded, now openly concerned, but for Harry's sanity instead of his well-being.

Giggling, Harry replied, "Even I, the Boy Who Lived to Get into Dangerous Situations, most certainly don't come off of adrenaline rushes. And if I were right now, I think I'd be moaning rather than giggling, yeah?" His voice had an airy, "not-totally-there" quality to it.

Draco blanched, horrified, his jaw going slack. "Potter, did...did you just insinuate that..." Draco had to pause mid-sentence, collecting his thoughts. "That's disgusting! Utterly revolting!" he spat, trying to get the mental image of Harry climaxing out of his head. It stuck surprisingly well.

Harry simply giggled in response, and then, in an astoundingly graceful motion, fainted.

Draco made a noise of disgust. The lack of food, coupled with the strenuous fight they had both just endured, had probably caused Harry's episode. Great. Now he'd have to go scavenge for food. That is, assuming there was even anything edible in the forest.

Draco sighed and cast a few wards on Harry's unconscious body, which would alert Draco if anything neared it. He then slashed a bold, red "X" into the tree that Harry lay under, to mark the spot, and begun to search through the undergrowth for anything they could digest without dying.

Despite his complaints and the situation, he couldn't help the smug smirk that found its way onto his face. He had just outlasted Harry bloody Potter, and that gave him one of the best feelings of exhilaration of his life. Better than the time only one day prior when he had actually succeeded in letting Death Eaters into the impenetrable Hogwarts. Better, even, than the day he had been given his first task as one of Voldemort's followers.

He thought about all the times he had wished and hoped to beat Potter, and all the times he'd dreamt of it. All the Quidditch matches, all the pranks and fights, and the moment on the train at the beginning of sixth year when he had gotten that delicious taste of stepping, quite literally, on Harry Potter's face. He thought of everything he had been through with Harry in the last few days, everything Harry had accused him of, and how much he had deserved it, or in some cases not deserved it. And now, Harry had survived the ordeal with the monster, and Draco had survived the ordeal with the monster, and Harry was asleep, and Draco was out gathering food for the great lump, and there was an inexplicable relief and euphoria in him for it all.

The smirk stayed on his face for a few moments longer, until he realized exactly why the feeling of elation in him now was so overwhelming.

He wasn't happy and relieved because he had beaten Potter.

He was happy and relieved because he had saved him.

*~*~*

Harry awoke a few hours later to something that smelled enticingly like food.

"Mmm," he murmured, savoring the feeling of near-but-not-quite-awareness, the point at which sleep blurred with reality and made reality sort of fuzzy and unreal. Sighing contentedly, he turned over onto his side, and then promptly let out a yelp of pain, his eyes flying open. He had just rolled on to a rock.

The pain the rock caused brought with it all the memories of the last few days, and Harry let out another groan. Great. I'm trekking in the wilderness of the Forbidden Forest, having just been almost eaten by a monster of the deep, with none other than Draco Malfoy, he thought, scowling.

He finally stretched and sat up, taking stock of his surroundings. He was sitting in a clearing, deep in the forest. The trees stood nearly on top of each other, their foliage creating a sort of barrier between the clearing and the rest of the woods. Harry tried to squint through the dense foliage, but this only made him dizzy. The darkness beyond seemed to stretch on forever. In the clearing, only a few drops of dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves above.

A small fire was blazing a few feet away, and a pile of some grass-like weeds sat a meter beyond that. His eyes trailed from the plant to the fringe of the clearing to notice, with an electric jolt, that Draco was standing propped against a tree, staring intensely at him.

"Have a nice nap?" he asked with a sneer, although it had slightly less bite and malice than Harry remembered.

Harry glared back at him anyway, although the effect was ruined when his stomach grumbled noisily.

Malfoy smirked broadly, but, at the pained expression on Harry's face, his features softened somewhat. He huffed and pointed airily to the pile of weeds at his feet. "Eat up," he said, with no trace of sarcasm.

Harry looked rather incredulous. "You can't be serious." When Draco's expression remained unchanged, he continued, "Those are bloody weeds, Malfoy. They're probably poison! I thought I smelled something more like food earlier..."

Sniffing haughtily, Draco looked down his nose at Harry. "That smell would probably be those highly nutritious and not at all poisonous vegetables you so glibly called weeds, Potter. They're actually quite tasty, I've had them at home several times, although of course they weren't wild, but all the same they're not too terribly horrid."

Harry snorted in disbelief. "And how do I know they're not poison, and you're just not trying to off me?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Potter, you underestimate me. If I wanted to kill you I could've done it a thousand times by now, in a thousand different ways. The first of which being during that attack with the monster."

At the mention of the monster, Harry looked around the forest clearing. "Where'd that thing go, anyway? I thought you tied it up, although it's all a bit hazy..." he trailed off at the end, as if trying to remember something.

"I don't know. I left to find you some food, and when I returned the creature was gone." Draco leaned back against the tree behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. "We thoroughly trounced it, though, so I doubt it will be back anytime soon." He looked a little smug at the last sentence.

Harry almost sniggered. "Thoroughly trounced?" he repeated, smirking just a bit. "What, are you from the Middle Ages or something?"

Draco made an indignant noise and scowled deeply. "Shut up, Potter. I don't have to speak like a cretin just because you do." His tone had taken on some of the nastiness he had forgone during their somewhat-civil conversation.

"Gods, and you say I'm the cretin?" Harry muttered to himself, although he didn't quite feel like thinking about this topic any longer, since his head was starting to spin unpleasantly, and instead decided that perhaps he should endeavor to try the weeds. Sorry, vegetables, he thought with trepidation.

He walked woozily over to the small pile of plant-like material, and bent down to pick up a few of the slim green stems. Bringing one up to his face, he sniffed it, grimaced, and then shoved the entire thing into his mouth, deciding to get it over with.

The bitter taste of the thing made him gag, and he looked up at Malfoy with an utterly pissed expression. "What the hell are you feeding me, Malfoy!"

Draco smiled back innocently. "Oh, I must've forgotten to mention that you have to cook them first."

Harry glared. "Forgot, my arse."

*~*~*

Several minutes later, both Harry and Draco were seated around the fire, partaking in some of the strange vegetable. Draco claimed not to know its name, although he had eaten it many times before. Harry sat morosely in silence until a thought drifted into his mind.

"Malfoy, I was just thinking," Harry said, biting off another piece of the stemmed plant, which turned out not to be half as bad cooked as raw.

"Really, must be a miracle," Draco snarked, but Harry ignored him and continued.

"Yes, I was just thinking, and now that we're far enough into the forest to be off Hogwarts' grounds, can't we just Apparate out to Diagon Alley or Grimmauld Place?" he asked genuinely.

To his disappointment, Draco shook his head. "No, I already tried that, when you were out. It just rebounded me right back here."

"Wait, you tried to Apparate away from here while I was unconscious? You were going to leave me for dead?!"

Draco nodded his head unrepentantly. "Something like that." In actuality, he had totally flipped out about his newfound and disturbingly strange feelings, and had decided running away would be the best option, a plan which was foiled by the forest. Nevertheless, he ignored Harry's glare and went on in his normal tone. "Actually, I don't know if your little Gryffindor mind has noticed, but all magic has become less potent and harder to control. Like my Incarcerous spell. I had to really concentrate my magic to make it have any effect at all."

Harry furrowed his brow. "So what does that mean?"

An exasperated Draco continued. "It means that the further we travel into this forest, the less magic we'll be able to control and use. If we encounter a creature further in, we may not be able to defend ourselves with magic at all." Draco was, honestly, terrified, although he tried to hide this fright with a conceited tone. One of his worst fears was being stripped of his magic, forced to live like a Muggle.

Harry seemed only mildly concerned. "Yeah, alright. So we'll have to be careful, make sure to watch our backs and get through this place quickly, stuff like that."

Draco gaped at him. "Potter, did you even understand what I said? We're losing our magic. We're going to be completely helpless, at the mercy of any creature in this place! We won't even be able to transfigure supplies or make a fire!"

"Malfoy, please, if you have an alternative, I'd like to hear it. I don't know what happened up at Hogwarts, but there're still Death Eaters there, and we're both near the top of Voldemort's hit list. The forest can't go on forever, and when we get nearer to the outside we'll be able to Apparate to safety."

Draco buried his head in his hands. "Fine, whatever. Let's just get out of here."

Harry was almost startled by Draco's defeated tone. Malfoy, although Harry had beaten him more time than he could count on one hand, had never looked or sounded like he had been beaten.

"Er...you okay, Malfoy?" Harry asked tentatively.

"I'm fine, let's just get the hell out of this place!" he snapped back, standing up and brushing off his torn and hopelessly dirty school robes.

Harry nodded and did likewise. Angry Malfoy he could deal with, usually by raging back. Sulky, conquered Malfoy, however, was something frighteningly foreign to him.

Harry kicked some dirt onto the fire, and then walked over to the edge of the clearing to stand beside Draco. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, and then stepped into the thick darkness of the wood, a small smile darting across his features as he felt Draco right beside him.

*~*~*

An hour or so after Harry and Draco vacated the wooded clearing, two other creatures shuffled in, hooves brushing almost silently through the leaves. They looked from the deadened fire pit to the obvious shoeprints in the soft loam.

"Humans," the first centaur said, sniffing the air disdainfully. "Two, by the look of the prints."

His companion trotted over to the fire pit and jabbed at it with an outstretched finger. "They were here no more than an hour ago. We could easily catch them."

The first centaur shook his head. "No. We must first tell Magorian that there were human trespassers in the star-gazing clearing, as was foreseen."

A placid smile slid onto the second centaur's face, contrasting heavily with his dark words. "You are right, Bane. Perhaps an ambush would be more effective at deterring the human scum, anyhow."

The other nodded and together they galloped off into the woods, eager to carry the news of humans so deep in their forest back to their chief.

*~*~*