Rating:
R
House:
Astronomy Tower
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
Genres:
Slash Action
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 07/20/2003
Updated: 10/22/2003
Words: 69,942
Chapters: 24
Hits: 117,475

Somnio Salvus

Invisibabe

Story Summary:
Year Six at Hogwarts, and Draco finds a way to spy on Harry's deepest fears. But will he use this knowledge to gain power over Harry, or to change his own destiny? Featuring Harry/Draco in a big, fluffy, slashy way. Also a hint of Ron/Hermione, a chorus of Death Eaters and one illicit potion.

Chapter 22

Chapter Summary:
Harry finds himself in the clutches of Lucius Malfoy. How is he going to get out of this one...? (As if you hadn't already guessed, clever readers!)
Posted:
10/17/2003
Hits:
3,726
Author's Note:
I said I wouldn't keep you waiting, so here it is!

The door swung shut behind Harry with a forbidding clunk. Lucius glared down at him, squeezing his arm tightly. Harry stared back in silence, breathing fast and gripping his wand. He considered attempting to summon his broomstick. Even if he didn't have time to mount it and fly away, with any luck it would whack Lucius on the back of the head. However, before he could collect his thoughts enough to remember the spell, his captor spoke:

'I might have known.'

Harry raised an eyebrow defiantly but didn't reply. Lucius continued in a low, menacing tone.

'Perhaps you can shed some light on a perplexing matter, Mr Potter. I attempted to rejoin the Dark Lord after an exhausting session of Vita Perpetua duty, only to make a startling discovery.' He gestured to the magic-proofed room with a slight flick of his silver-blond head. 'I found my son unconscious, my comrade insensible, and the Dark Lord...missing. There was no clue to suggest what had happened, but I observed at once that the whole situation positively reeked of Harry Potter...' He paused to fix Harry with an accusing look. 'And here you are.'

Harry narrowed his eyes. From somewhere he managed to summon his voice. 'I don't believe for one second that you don't know where Voldemort is!' he snapped.

Lucius looked startled for a moment, as he usually did when anyone was brazen enough to speak Voldemort's name. Then he leaned forward, sneering into Harry's face. 'The Dark Lord has magical methods at his disposal that a mere schoolboy can't even imagine,' he snarled. 'It was inevitable that he would escape from your pathetic little fracas, no matter what brilliant plan you might think you had concocted.'

'Yes, especially since he had a convenient laundry chute at his disposal!' retorted Harry without thinking. Then he mentally kicked himself. If Lucius really hadn't known where Voldemort was, he did now. He held his breath.

Lucius' face froze. He released his grip on Harry's arm and took a step back, surveying Harry speculatively. His expression was completely unreadable. Harry fingered his wand nervously.

'Sometimes the simplest methods are the most effective, but also the hardest to recognise.' Lucius spoke quietly, his voice no longer threatening, but thoughtful. 'Of course, I suspected that you - with your deceptively cunning little brain - would think of it. That is why, when I undertook the magic-proofing of the second bedchamber, I placed the same wards and glyphs of resistance around the laundry basement, unbeknownst to the Dark Lord.'

Harry's jaw dropped in disbelief. Lucius smoothed his hair pensively. His face was an unreadable mask. 'I was looking forward to impressing the Dark Lord with my foresight. You were to end up imprisoned in a cold, dark basement, still unable to use magic. It seems that my plan...backfired somewhat.'

Harry gulped. 'S...so, Voldemort is down there, trapped...until...'

'Until someone opens the door from the outside, yes.'

Harry released his grip on his wand slightly. If Lucius was going to dispose of him, it seemed unlikely that he would be telling him all this. It just seemed rather hard to believe. 'But Voldemort's so...even with the wards and stuff... surely he can...'

Lucius interrupted him again. 'Even a wizard as powerful as my master has to draw on the Earth's natural magic in order to perform spells. The wards warp and deflect that magic so that it is inaccessible. He is no more capable of magic in that basement than I would be. Or you, for that matter.'

Harry wasn't convinced. 'So how come nobody has ever thought of this before? If Voldemort's power can be reduced to nothing by a few simple wards...'

Lucius looked outraged. 'I never said they were simple, Potter. They were developed through years of painstaking research among the Dark Lord's own servants. Nobody has ever tried to use them against him because none of his enemies have the knowledge to perform them, and none of his followers would want to imprison their master. They were intended for you.'

Harry wasn't sure he could take this in. 'So...so if you don't let him out...'

'Oh I'm afraid that is not an option, Potter. I am still his servant and I have no wish to leave him imprisoned. Besides, in a few weeks the house elves will return to prepare the hotel for the Christmas Holiday season. If I don't open the basement door, they certainly will, and I would rather not be hunted down by a furious, vengeful and very, very hungry Dark Lord.'

Harry glanced once again at his Firebolt, uncertain whether to make a break for it. It seemed for all the world as though Malfoy did not intend to murder him on the spot, but it went against every fibre of Harry's being to trust him. The usually helpful little voice in his head was being annoyingly quiet.

Gathering his senses, he murmured, 'So what now?'

Lucius took a deep breath and let his gaze drop to the floor. 'I would have thought that was obvious,' he sighed. 'My son is lying helpless on the floor of that bedchamber. When the Dark Lord is released, Draco will be interrogated and executed. My master does not tolerate betrayal. Even if I present him with your head on a plate, Draco will not be forgiven.

'Naturally, I would not be averse to incapacitating you, then reviving Draco and sending him back to school on your broomstick - which I have of course noticed despite your brilliant hiding-place. Under the sofa, Potter, honestly!' Harry glared at him. 'That is what I would do,' he paused to look meaningfully at Harry, 'if I thought for one moment that Draco would go without you.'

Harry's heart lurched in panic. He knows! He felt his face begin to colour and started to stammer nervously. He had no idea what he was trying to say, but it didn't matter. Lucius was ignoring him.

'So you see, Potter, my only option is to risk the Dark Lord's wrath and allow you to escape, provided that you take Draco with you. In fact, it seems that by seducing my son you have managed to ensure your own survival...' he gave Harry a hint of an ironic smile, '...how very Slytherin of you!'

Harry tried to quiet his thundering heart for long enough to register what Lucius had said. He managed to summon the presence of mind to reply, with a slight quaver in his voice, 'And by allowing me to escape in order to save Draco's life, you are placing your own life at risk. How very Gryffindor of you!'

Lucius stared at him incredulously for a moment, then let out a short bark of laughter.

'Touché, Potter,' he replied. He surveyed Harry in amused silence for a moment before casting one last glance towards the second bedroom. Then he stepped forward, waving his wand at the massive iron door handles with a murmured incantation. He opened the doors and stepped into the hallway, before turning to speak to Harry once more.

'It will not take me long to reach the basement and release the Dark Lord. You have little more than five minutes.'

To Harry it seemed as though there was a lot more that Lucius wanted to say, but whether it was because he was out of time, or because he couldn't think of the right words, he merely nodded resignedly and closed the doors.

***

Harry began to wonder if Draco's repeated abuse of the Somnio Salvus potion hadn't given him brain damage after all. He turned on his heel and dashed across the room to retrieve his broomstick before anything else could hold up his escape. He opened the French windows and set the Firebolt hovering on the balcony - that way it would be easier to mount if he failed to rouse Draco and had to carry him.

As he stepped back into the room he noticed that the door to the Master bedroom had been left open. He was fairly sure that if anyone was still in there, Lucius would have mentioned it, but still he crept forward silently and peered around the doorframe to make sure.

What he saw made him realise with a jolt of nausea that Lucius had mentioned something about this room...he had said he'd been engaged in an exhausting session of Vita Perpetua duty. Harry had been too panicked to wonder what that meant, but now it all became clear.

The whimpering, shaking form of Bellatrix Lestrange lay on the floor near the bed. Judging by her awkward position, both of her legs were broken. Her robes were torn and bloodstained, and her dark eyes seemed to swim in and out of focus as she looked up at him.

Vita Perpetua

, thought Harry. Prolonging life... He took a few steps towards her. No doubt, just to inflict more torture, he thought grimly. He gazed down at her with a mixture of disgust and satisfaction. The woman who had murdered his godfather now lay helplessly at his feet, hovering on the brink of madness. It seemed a fitting punishment after what she had done to Frank and Alice Longbottom.

She seemed to recognise him. Her eyes widened as she looked at him and she stammered quietly, choking on her own voice as she tried to say something. Harry suddenly found himself filled with burning rage. She had no right to even try to speak to him. How could she think he would be interested in anything she had to say? He seized his wand and pointed it directly into her face.

But even as he tried to concentrate all his anger, all his hatred, all his grief over the loss of Sirius, he knew that he wouldn't be able to do it. He couldn't bear to imagine what his godfather would say if he were there to see him contemplating the killing curse.

The hand holding his wand shook as he tried to decide how to feel. His face contorted with fury but he couldn't suppress his growing doubt. He lowered his wand and turned away from her.

Hatred burned throughout his entire body. He had sworn to himself that he would avenge his godfather, but now that the opportunity presented itself, it was not that simple. Sirius wouldn't have wanted him to become a murderer for his sake. But it wouldn't really be murder - look at the state of her! She's virtually dead already.

He struggled with a tangle of conflicting thoughts.

She deserves to die.

No, she deserves to suffer in pain and madness.

But Voldemort is the reason she's in this state. She's just another of his victims.

She killed Sirius!

But only because she was Voldemort's agent...

Voldemort was the one who killed my parents, thought Harry. Voldemort was the reason why Sirius died. Voldemort is the one who wants me, and Draco, dead. Voldemort is the real enemy; he always has been...

Gritting his teeth in frustration he turned towards the door, returning his wand to his pocket. As he did so, he heard something clink against it, and slipped his hand into his pocket to see what it was.

With a flicker of realisation he withdrew a small potion bottle - the same bottle that he had confiscated from Draco shortly after his arrival. He closed his hand tightly around it as he turned back to look at Bellatrix.

...and Voldemort will be without another loyal servant if I give her the means to take her own life.

Harry didn't pause to talk himself out of it. He uncorked the vial and held it out to Bellatrix. Her hand shook so violently that he had to close her fingers around it so that it wouldn't fall.

He stood and looked down at her, his rage subsiding. She was a pathetic sight, battered and trembling as she struggled to raise the vial to her lips. As he turned to leave, he thought he heard her murmur something semi-coherent. He couldn't make it out but he glanced back at her.

'S...Si...' she stammered.

'Sirius?' he said incredulously. 'My godfather, Sirius? Your cousin? The one you murdered? Is that what you're trying to say?'

He was shocked to notice a tear sliding down her cheek.

He couldn't be sure, but it rather looked as though she was trying to tell him that she regretted what had happened...if it were possible for such a vicious, soulless she-devil to feel something as human as regret.

Sympathy was somewhat beyond his capability, but Harry felt an unexpected pang of sorrow. Not for the wretched creature who lay breathing her last breaths at his feet, but for everyone like her - everyone who had suffered at the hands of Lord Voldemort.

'Look...' he faltered. 'Just...apologise to Sirius, not me.' He gulped and tried to fight the rising lump in his throat. The pain of losing Sirius hadn't felt this raw since the day he saw him fall through the arch in the Death Chamber.

'And tell him I said hi...' his voice began to shake and he swallowed hard. Then something peculiar happened. Harry felt a strange sensation, like a block of ice beginning to crack and melt in his stomach. He wondered if it might be forgiveness...or something like it. He would never forget that she had taken the only family he had ever known from him...but now she was going to die. He just didn't think he had the energy to hate her any more. She was nothing to him now, and soon she would be nothing at all, to anyone.

In his over-emotional state he didn't know how to begin wondering whether he was doing the right thing. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. In a matter of minutes Voldemort would be free again and on the warpath. It was time to go.

He left the bedroom and pulled the door behind him. He just had time to see Bellatrix finally manage to raise the potion bottle. She gulped the contents, her eyes never leaving his as he closed the door.

***

Harry took a couple of deep, shaky breaths and forced his feet to move. He crossed the room to the other bedroom and opened the door. Draco was still motionless on the floor, and Wormtail was sitting near the wardrobe, gazing blankly into space and dribbling.

Harry propped the door open with a small bronze statue of Vera the Voluptuous - he didn't want to even think about the door closing behind him again.

He crouched beside Draco and shook him tentatively. 'Hey, wake up. It's time to go,' he said anxiously.

There was no response. Harry gently lifted Draco's left eyelid, only to find the pupil fixed and dilated. He swore softly, then lifted Draco's head off the ground. He placed one arm around his shoulders, and pulled him to a sitting position. Then he put his other arm under Draco's legs and, with a grunt of effort, stood up...for about half a second.

He dropped to his knees, the unconscious Draco landing heavily across his lap. 'Merlin!' he gasped. 'How much do you weigh?'

As he struggled to free his legs and stood up, he marvelled inwardly at the way stories and films always made it look so easy. The hero would sweep in, hack a few villains to bits, gather his beloved into his arms and vanish majestically into the sunset.

Of course, it would help if my beloved were frail and waif-like, as all good stories recommend

, he thought as he thrust his arms under Draco's, and staggered backwards, half-carrying, half-dragging him to the open door. I'm glad he's not, though...he found himself thinking. He mentally scolded himself - now was not the time to be admiring Draco's physique.

He manoeuvred said physique through the doorway, then drew his wand and aimed it at Draco.

'Ennervate!' he said.

With a sigh of relief he watched as pale golden eyelashes began to twitch. Draco's jaw moved as he swallowed, then he frowned slightly. Harry reached out and absently brushed away a stray lock of hair from his face. 'Are you alright?' he asked softly.

Draco's eyes opened slightly. He squinted up at Harry with a grimace.

'Ow,' he said.

Harry smiled sympathetically. 'I should say! You took a knock to the head that would have laid out a troll.'

Draco gingerly sat up, wincing as he turned his head to look around. 'What happened? Where'd they go? It's light - how long have I been out?'

Harry helped him to his feet impatiently. 'Never mind all that. They'll be back any minute so you're going to have to move. Can you walk?'

Draco looked at him doubtfully, then took a few steps. 'Yes,' he replied, looking surprised. Then he staggered slightly and Harry had to catch him to stop him from falling.

'It's a good job we don't have to walk home,' murmured Harry, pulling Draco's arm around his shoulders and supporting him as they made their way to the balcony. 'Do you think you can manage to keep one leg each side of a broomstick?'

Draco nodded, then put a hand to his head as if to stop the movement. 'Ow. Owowow that hurts.'

'You haven't got time to hurt! Get on, quickly!' Harry didn't have his watch on, but the encounter with Bellatrix and the slow business of dragging Draco out of the bedroom meant that it had to be at least five minutes since Lucius had left. Voldemort would be bursting through the door at any moment, and Harry doubted that the experience of being locked in the basement would have mellowed his mood.

Draco seated himself on Harry's Firebolt and shivered in the early morning breeze. 'I'm cold,' he complained.

'Is there no end to your moaning?' said Harry in annoyance, but he felt a pang of protective affection. He sprinted back to collect Draco's cloak, which had fallen off during the struggle to get him out of the room. He retrieved it, then paused briefly in the doorway. He looked down at the vacant expression of Peter Pettigrew - yet another Dark Wizard against whom he bore a personal grudge lay helpless at his feet. He wondered if his wand would work, if he tried to hex him from outside the doorway, but decided that it wasn't worth the delay to find out.

As he was about to leave, another idea occurred to him...

'Hey, Peter! Why exactly do you work for Voldemort?' he said loudly.

Peter's face remained blank, but he began to talk. His mouth seemed to move independently of his brain - as if it were being operated by an invisible puppeteer.

'I work for he-who-must-not-be-named because I am afraid to leave his service. I was tempted by promises of power and wealth, and the protection of his circle of followers. I don't believe in his principles. I don't want to hurt people any more. I only do what he says because if I don't he will kill me....'

Harry snorted and turned on his heel, leaving Wormtail babbling to the empty room. He'd swallowed enough Veritaserum to keep him spouting off like that for hours. Voldemort would hear a thing or two of interest, that was for sure, then he could deal with him as he saw fit.

Harry handed Draco his cloak and climbed onto the Firebolt in front of him.

'Who were you talking to?' asked Draco, fastening his cloak.

'Nobody,' muttered Harry, meaning it wholeheartedly.

Draco frowned. 'I heard voices, I thought he had come back. I almost went in to see if you were ok.'

Harry smiled. 'I'm fine. Now hold on tight.' He felt Draco's arms wind around his waist, and a single warm throb radiated through his entire body. He kicked off from the balcony and swooped out over the hotel grounds.

'I just left Voldemort a calling card, that's all...' he murmured, more to himself than to Draco. Another one...he thought, imagining the lifeless form of Bellatrix Lestrange, waiting for her master in the other room.

He shivered. Draco adjusted his cloak, wrapping it around Harry and leaning against his back to share his warmth. Harry hadn't been feeling cold, but he didn't mind in the slightest. He pressed back against Draco and sighed contentedly as they soared over the wild, rugged hills.

He could have imagined it, but beneath the roar of the wind in his ears, he thought he heard a howl of rage echo through the valley behind them.


Author notes: Look! No cliffhanger! See, I told you I could do it. And if you think that the lack of cliffie means that this is the end, don't worry. There is more to come... (You don't think I'd let Harry & Draco get away without any proper snogging do you? Shame on you!)