Metamorphome

Chapter Fourteen: Antagonizing Snape and a Snake

Harry, Draco, and Hermione were preparing to leave, sitting in Morrigan and Hermione's kitchen. Hermione was, again, gone. They had waited until Hermione and Ron were extremely busy to plan this outing, knowing that it was probably best that they didn't know. They each ate in silence, strangely calm even though they knew it was most likely the last meal they would ever eat. Not one of the three dressed in robes, as the billowy material would hinder quick movement and (possibly) stealth. Morrigan had chosen sneakers, a t-shirt, and comfortable green corduroys. Draco himself had dressed in a green sweater and black slacks, his shoes, too, sneakers. Harry was dressed in a t-shirt and slacks, his old cross-trainers covering his feet. They were eating gyros and salad. Who knew Morrigan liked Greek food?

Finally they each finished and stood, stretching, avoiding each other's eyes. They were afraid of what they would see there--death or hopelessness--and afraid their own eyes would betray such things. "Are we ready?" Morrigan asked.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "Got the Potion?" he asked Draco.

The blond nodded and patted it at his waist.

"All right then," Harry said tersely. "Let's get going. What's this place called again?"

"Spinner's End," Draco told him.

Each with their faces twisted in concentration, they turned in the spot, and found themselves on a damp patch of grass in a ditch. They could see Snape's house through a few patches of trees, but most of it remained hidden, meaning they, too, were hidden. They could tell that it was a small house, perfect for a bachelor. "This is it?" Morrigan asked sneeringly. "I thought Snape lived in style."

"Who told you that?" Draco asked with a frown.

"Oh, Bellatrix was ranting about it one day. And Snape gets to stay in his nice little home, safe and secure, where the Ministry can't find him," she mimicked, contorting her face into a nasty look, perfectly imitating Bellatrix's own.

Draco smiled indulgently for a moment, and then his face resumed its tense, serious look. "All right. Don't come in until he's getting ready to attack. I can keep him going for a few minutes, but we really want to catch him off guard. And Potter, keep your mind closed."

Harry was about to reply heatedly, but Morrigan hushed him. "Your anger won't help you close off your mind," she reminded him snappishly.

Harry scowled but didn't disagree.

Draco took a deep breath, then nodded his head. Morrigan and Harry stood awkwardly together, Harry pulling the Invisibility Cloak over both. Draco stalked up the lawn with the other two following awkwardly behind him. He stopped at the door and knocked tentatively. He heard nothing until the door opened to reveal his old Potion's master.

"Draco!" he hissed, pulling him inside, angrily. Morrigan and Harry stayed outside the door, watching as Draco dropped the Extendable Ear inside the door. The door snapped closed, but Morrigan and Harry could hear everything as it happened.

Inside, Snape had turned an ugly shade of puce. "What are you doing here, Draco?" he snapped. "This is dangerous for both of us. I don't know where your allegiance lies, but frankly I don't care. What the hell are you doing here?" he repeated.

"I'm here to talk to you, old teacher," Draco said coolly, sitting at the couch. "Sit down."

Snape remained standing, fists curled at his sides, fingers clutching his wand in his right hand.

"You have betrayed the Dark Lord! You kidnapped Flaherty! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I was doing the right thing," Draco told him, lifting an elegant eyebrow. "It's a shame you can't make the same distinction."

"You have betrayed everything your parents worked for; everything I worked for!"

Draco smiled mirthlessly. "And look where it got them," he said. "Bedpans and one lonely grave."

"They knew the price when they joined."

"My mother didn't even join, if you remember correctly. She was a housewife, not even an active member. Voldemort himself said that if you aren't active, you're not a Death Eater."

"She betrayed him!" Snape hissed.

Draco raised his eyebrow, leaning back and putting his arms up on the back of the couch comfortably. Snape eyed his right hand, which still held the wand. It was a clear warning: I may look relaxed, but I'm ready for you. "My mother tried to protect me, and you went along with it. So, if she betrayed the Dark Lord, you did, too."

Snape scowled deeper, his fists quivering and white from the strain of his muscles.

"Careful," Draco said softly. This game of cat and mouse, or "provoke the more experienced wizard," was starting to scare him a little. He was trapped at the moment. It seemed that Snape was going to take a lot of prodding to go off, but when he did, it would be spectacularly large, and Draco wasn't sure if he could handle the Potions Master. "Don't break your wand," he warned.

"Of course," Snape sneered.

"So, why is it, old teacher, that you have refrained from blasting me?"

"I--" The expression on Snape's face revealed that he didn't entirely know why he hadn't killed Draco.

Draco speculated roughly that the familiarity with which Snape held Draco, held the old man's hand back, stayed his violence. Snape may not hold the same regard for Draco, but he knew the boy so well, having been his long time mentor, that it felt almost impossible to kill him. For all his betrayal, Draco had once been a good student, an apt learner. It felt like a waste and a betrayal to himself to kill the boy. With a mental shrug, Snape raised his wand very suddenly and yelled, "Impedimenta!"

Draco was just quick enough to erect a Shield Charm before the spell hit, and it bounced off the invisible shield, flying into a bookcase and knocking off a marble bust of Salazar Slytherin.

The door slammed open, Morrigan and Harry's wands were suspended in midair, and they screamed, "Expelliarmus!"

Snape flew off his feet, hitting the bookshelf behind him with a sickening thud. His wand flew through the air and landed smoothly in Harry's outstretched palm. Harry uncovered the Invisibility Cloak.

The ex- Potions master stood shakily and glared furiously at Harry, whose own face betrayed his hatred of the man who had almost inadvertently killed all those closest to him, while Snape completely ignored Morrigan. Harry's wand was leveled at Snape, his hand shaking. Morrigan looked at him piercingly and firmly put her hand on Harry's arm. "Don't do it, Potter," she whispered. "If you kill him, the Dark Lord will know." He glanced at her for a moment, and his eyes were sapped of their anger. He turned back to Snape, eyes cool now.

"Ah, so my lessons finally reached your dense mind, Potter," Snape sneered archly.

"Don't be stupid," Harry snorted. "Everything I know now, Moody taught me. He's a better teacher. Maybe it's because he's less likely to, I don't know, betray his friends? I guess that doesn't have much relevance, but every good teacher I've had isn't a cowardly turncoat." He smiled coolly at Snape. "Stupefy!" A jet of red light flew from the tip of his wand and caught Snape in the chest, causing him to fall once more.

Morrigan and Draco watched Harry for a moment. Draco, alone, knew the story of what Snape had done to Harry, and he didn't even know the whole of it. Harry had earned his moment of satisfaction, and Draco let him have it. After a moment, Draco said, "Time to go."

Harry stalked to Snape's prone figure and bent over his still form. He crinkled his nose. "The old man was getting obese."

Morrigan snorted.

Harry grabbed a lump of Snape's hair and yanked it out none too gently. Draco handed Harry the potion. Harry opened it, took a deep whiff of the still bubbling green substance, his lip curling. Fighting the urge to gag, Harry placed the two hairs in the vial, closed it once more, and shook it up furiously. He opened it again and took a huge gulp, consuming a fifth of the large vial.

Morrigan turned away, not wanting to see the hideous transformation. She could hear the bones shifting and the skin melting, though, and she squeezed her hands over her ears, but she had the mental image very prominently in her mind, unable to shake her imagination enough to rid herself of the image.

Harry felt his body changing, and suddenly knew that he shouldn't be wearing this clothing. He ran to the other room and took off his clothes, stripping down into nothing but boxers. Draco threw the extra clothing into the same room with Harry, who waited for the transformation to finish.

Draco went to check the other rooms for any extra visitors, leaving Morrigan alone with her imagination.

Morrigan shuddered and turned to view Snape. She wasn't sure how long he'd be out, so she grabbed his ankles, dragging him toward to the coat closet beside his door. He was heavy, but she managed to pull him to the closet and push him in awkwardly. She called to Draco to help her.

Draco came in and smiled wryly at her, seeing what she had been trying to do. He wordlessly went to her side and grabbed Snape's ankles. She picked up the old man's wrists, grinning wryly at their chore, and yanked him into the closet, awkwardly shifting to accommodate both her body and Snape's. With his torso inside the closet, she stepped over him, into the hallway. She shoved his legs in and propped them against the door, which she closed most of the way, and then slammed the door. She pointed her wand at the doorknob and silently locked it, looking up proudly at Draco. The boy rolled his eyes and then turned to see Harry, now Snape, in the doorway.

Harry scowled, his face uncomfortable. "It sucks being Snape. If only my parents could see me," he sighed, shaking his head.

"Oh stop being so emotional," Draco snapped amusedly. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "What's the forest called?" he asked Morrigan, who grimaced.

"It's Snakeflask Forest. We're going for the center. It's not too large."

Harry bit his lip and Morrigan almost laughed, as the image of Severus Snape using such a boyish expression was enormously comical. All three exchanged looks, and Malfoy said, "Let's go."

They turned in place, and with a CRACK, found themselves in the middle of a forest. They couldn't see the castle, but Morrigan knew which direction to go, gazing at the sun, which was getting low. She pointed north and said, "Let's go."

Draco squeezed his eyes and instantly popped into the form of a fox. Morrigan stared, as this was the sole circumstance she'd seen Draco in his Animagus form. His one recognizable characteristic was the unique icy blue color of his eyes. All three of them prayed that Voldemort wouldn't recognize them and instantly connect the fox to Draco.

Harry knelt and put a cord around the fox's neck, then Morrigan began to walk ahead, leading the two toward her hell.

* * *

When Morrigan could see the gates of Parselart, she twitched her head, and the three began their act.

Morrigan stood stiff, her arms at her side, hands entirely relaxed. She gazed ahead unseeingly, and Harry raised his wand to her back. She walked dully forward, seemingly no more than an Inferi. In truth, she was posing as one Imperiused. Draco strained at his leash, as if trying to get away. Harry placed a Snape-like leer on his lips, striding confidently forward with his two "prisoners."

A Death Eater at the top of the gates glared down at him. "That you, Snape?" he called.

"Yes, you dimwit," Harry called back. "I've two prisoners, one that the Dark Lord will find particularly interesting."

The Death Eater raised a pair of Omnioculars, looking down at the two prisoners, and then gasped audibly. "If that isn't--why, it's Flaherty!" he crowed exultantly. "Bellatrix is going to be so pleased at this choice bit of news."

"You'll let us in?" Harry asked icily, Snape's voice cutting the air.

"Oh, yeah," the Death Eater said absentmindedly. He pushed a button, and metal gates rose immediately. Harry walked confidently behind Morrigan, who was really the leader. She led him through the gates and into the courtyard, where every person there stared at them silently, mouths agape. Some whispered in hushed voices, forgetting themselves.

Morrigan had to put a great deal of effort into not allowing her eyes to flash or her face to color. She approached the green sparkling shield before the doors of the castle and Harry called, "Veritamortas," just as Morrigan had taught him. The green shield evaporated immediately, and they entered the castle, leaving a curious audience behind. Before the Great Hall, a masked Death Eater saw them and turned to enter the Great Hall to alert the Dark Lord.

They waited for a moment and then the Death Eater returned, nodding once, and resumed his position by the entrance.

The three entered the room cautiously, eyes searching. They could see Voldemort on his cold throne, waiting patiently. All three looked elsewhere. Morrigan's eyes gazed forward, unfocused. Harry's black eyes stared at the ground, a gesture of respect, while Draco still struggled against his leash.

They stopped at the foot of the throne and waited for Voldemort to speak.

"What have you found here, Severus?" Voldemort asked quietly, his eyes boring into Morrigan's vacant ones.

"Our most popular traitor," Harry said, bowing low.

"I must say, this time you have truly done good work. Where, pray tell, did you find her?"

"She was sneaking around near my Spinner's End. I suppose she was trying to help the Order, but I didn't ask. I incarcerated her and brought her to you to be broken."

"And the fox?"

"An Auror. Fervius Knockwood."

"I'm not interested in unimportant Aurors. Dispose of him and leave me." Draco yelped dramatically, and Voldemort laughed quietly at the animal's fear. "Make it slow, Severus," he commanded cruelly, his smile wide and terrifying.

Harry bowed his head respectfully, and then said, "Finite Incantatem."

Morrigan collapsed, a part of her--the part that wasn't going mad with fear--enjoying the drama.

Harry turned to leave, dragging Draco behind him.

Voldemort waited until they were out of the room and then turned his gaze upon Morrigan.

"Welcome home, my prodigal daughter..."

* * *

Harry and Draco raced through the halls, following Morrigan's instructions. "Left, right, right, portrait of Merlin, four more rights, and a left at the statue of Barnabas the Gold," Harry breathed under his breath, reciting the instructions carefully.

He slid to a stop in front of the library entrance, thanking every deity he'd heard of that they'd not seen a soul.

He bent to catch his breath, momentarily. "Snape is really out of shape," he breathed.

With a pop, Draco became human once again. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, and said, "With a belly that size, was there ever any doubt?"

Harry grinned at him, forgetting their past animosity. "Are we going to do this?" he said.

Draco shrugged indifferently. "We will or we won't; fate will decide."

Harry rolled his eyes and stepped into the library. The first thing he noticed, from the inside, was the vastness. It had to be filled with hundreds of shelves. He wondered at the size, when he'd thought it had looked so small from the outside. It was dark inside, smelling of old parchment and books. The silence was deafening, and the air was thick with dust and old plant cells from the tree derivatives.

Harry coughed, waving his hand over his face. "Ugh, this place is perfect for Voldemort," he whispered. He set off down the far wall, searching for the case holding the cup. Draco followed close behind him, wand at the ready. They must have walked a hundred feet when Harry stopped abruptly and stepped out into an open space. In the very center of the room stood a glass case, inside of which sat the very cup Harry had seen inside Dumbledore's memory three years ago.

He looked around then waved his wand over the empty space. "Specialis Revelio," he whispered. Nothing happened. With a shrug, he stepped forward, and nothing happened. He stepped forward toward the glass case, inching slowly toward it with caution. He was a step away from it when he heard a sudden hiss and Draco shouted at Harry, "Potter, watch out!"

Harry jumped four feet back, precisely as an enormous snake dropped from the ceiling, hissing and landing with a thud in the place Harry had been only moments before. With a grim smile, Harry drew a silver knife from a sheath at his side, brandishing it like a sword. "Impedimenta!"

The spell bounced off the shiny scales of the large green snake, and suddenly, it lunged at Harry, who pointed the knife at the open jaws of the snake. The snake pulled out of the way to avoid being stabbed by the knife, and Harry jumped over it, then turned and plunged the knife into its back.

It hissed, but was not stopped by its wound. Harry realized he would have to cut its head off to destroy it. "Malfoy, hold its head!" he cried, and Draco looked at him like he was insane.

Draco did as he was ordered, though, and lunged at the unsuspecting snake. He grabbed the head and slammed it forcefully to the ground, muscles quivering as it strained against his hand, whipping its body to shake him lose. "Now, Potter," he said through gritted teeth, and Harry sliced the knife through the snake's neck, and the head came off. The body continued to whip violently as the body got the message it had to shut down. It took two or three minutes, but Harry and Draco couldn't wait for that.

Harry stood up, his face grim. "Well, Nagini's done. One less Horcrux. I wasn't sure if we'd be able to get her this run."

"Yeah, let's get this," Draco said, turning to the case. Harry stopped him with his hand.

"Let me do it. If we need to get out of here, you'll be able to get Morrigan better than me, and it's very likely that I might be seriously injured by this."

Draco nodded and stepped aside, allowing Harry to press his palm experimentally to the glass. Nothing happened.

With relief, Harry said, "I bet Voldemort thought no one would be able to get in here and get through Nagini."

Draco nodded agreeably and watched Harry lift the case off its platform.

Harry pointed his wand at the cup and cried, "Finite Immortatus!"

The cup glowed a very bright green, and then suddenly exploded, a small mushroom cloud erupting on the platform. Abruptly, the smoked was all sucked into a source--the unharmed Cup of Helga Hufflepuff. Harry grabbed the cup, and then said, "Now we need to go help Morrigan."

Draco turned and ran, Harry following behind closely, both hoping it wasn't too late to save her.

* * *

"So, Morrigan, you thought you could betray me?" Voldemort asked very softly, staring her down.

She jumped to her feet immediately and stared at him, apparently nonplussed. She was actually terrified and was wondering how she was managing to control her bowels.

She cocked her head to the side and said, "You know, it was almost remarkable how it happened. Would you like to hear about it?" she asked, her voice friendly. This is it, she thought. My best performance, my last escapade across the venturous unknown called complete bullshit...

"By all means," Voldemort laughed. "I would love to hear your story, child," he said indulgently, gazing at her amusedly. Ignoring this look, which she knew was meant to scare her, she began.

"You will be happy to know that I performed perfectly," she said, putting her hands behind her back, and for a moment, Voldemort thought she looked like a school child, sharing a story with her favorite teacher. He knew, though, that he was no longer her favorite teacher, that she had walked into Dumbledore's trap. It had made him furious when he had heard from his spies that she had been seen with a Mudblood in Diagon Alley, Potter's friend, no less, because he had realized that even from the grave, Dumbledore's hand reached out with its goodness and love. Now he felt a dull flicker of anger, and then passed over the emotion completely.

"I was by all means your creature. They had to force Veritaserum down my throat to get me to reveal anything, and even surrounded by their hateful love toward each other, I remained true. I spoke your title with reverence, spoke your teachings with such conviction, and they hated me. They all did. They wanted to kill me. With a few words, I made that Granger girl flee the kitchen with her own good intentions shoved up her ass so far it was astonishing that she made it up the stairs of my prison."

Voldemort smirked. Her storytelling was such that he could imagine that she still had that sort of faith in him. She spoke as if she were still that girl which had hated with utter sincerity every person she knew, save him.

"And then," she continued, "Draco punished me. He told me I didn't deserve to live, monster that I was. Oh! The things he called me," she laughed. "It was the first time I'd wept since childhood, since I'd lost my soul." She smiled bitterly. "And the next time he visited me, I broke and told him my story from the beginning. I wanted to show him that I wasn't all those things he believed me to be. Even then, I was attached to him. He was so cool, so smooth. I admired him in spite of myself. He was a rival, to be sure, and he had betrayed me to those I hated most, but still, he was an interesting figure, and it was difficult to allow him to believe me some sort of hideous monster."

"Oh, my darling, you are," Voldemort laughed, clapping his hands. She glared ferociously at him, and he returned the glare. He raised his wand and pointed it at her. "Crucio!"

Morrigan dropped to the marble floor and convulsed, pulling on her hair. I will not scream, I will not scream, I will not scream. And then it stopped.

"Continue," Voldemort told her, his voice dangerous.

Morrigan paused for a moment, her face on the cool ground. Then, with a grunt, she pushed herself into a stand. The pain was fading slowly, and she could stand. "And then I asked him if I could spend Christmas with him. He agreed, as long as I behaved myself. I was introduced to Christmas, and for the first time, someone gave me a gift--not because I had done something they wanted me to do it, but because they genuinely wished me happiness, whether I deserved it or not. In turn, I gifted a scroll upon both of them--a story for Hermione and everything you'd ever taught me, summarized, to Draco. I still believed in you, even though they had shown me kindness that you are incapable of. I didn't mean that spitefully," she added quickly, not wanting to be tortured again. Voldemort nodded his head to continue, so she did so.

"They started to teach me, then. They told me truths that I had never known, that I didn't know existed. I barely resisted after awhile. I was intrigued. What was the other side thinking? Could there be a better life? One with more of a point? And I learned. Suddenly I realized that I was actually feeling happiness. I had always scoffed at that word, because I was unable to understand, not having felt it before. Maybe contentedness, but not happiness. And I liked it. As I like Hermione. She was so kind, so smart. How could she be inferior to me? She treated me well, too, even when I thought all her kind were cruel and stupid. But she proved me wrong. She proved you wrong," she added bravely. Voldemort's eyes smoldered, but he allowed her to continue.

"Loyalty and trust mean something!" she cried. "Draco...he helped me, he taught me to trust. He made me ask myself questions that I had been too scared, or too ignorant, to ask before. The most important question...it wasn't even a question! 'The question is not why the Dark Lord trusts you, but why you trust him.' I remembered it, and when it finally made sense to me, I could honestly ask myself that question--and I could not honestly conceive an answer. Why would I trust you? Why hadn't I asked that question before? Because that's what you teach us to think. It's not relevant to the powerless why they trust those holding the power.

"That's what the Order is all about! Trusting without power, without incentive guiding their words. It's not about love, or any of the other things you mock them for. And that is why good temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant."

"You really believe that, do you?" Voldemort asked her skeptically.

"Yes, Tom, I do," she sneered. "I am prepared to die before you for this idea that I believe in, and right before that green light hits me and kills me, I will still consider myself lucky than all of your other followers that followed until the end without punishment, because I lived truthfully for any amount of time."

Voldemort began to chuckle. "You're daft. You really believe in all this love nonsense, don't you?"

Morrigan smiled and nodded her head slowly, knowing her doom was coming.

"You forget, Morrigan, the other side of love: Love without betrayal is not love but infatuation. Where are your friends? The ones that you so dearly love?"

Morrigan bit her lip. She knew Harry and Draco should be coming soon, but it might be too late.

"Yes, my dear, you are unaided in my keep with none of your precious loved ones. You are going to die alone, and for what? Some abstract concept?" He tsked. "You should know better than that. I see that I failed in teaching you, and I am not a man that likes to fail."

Before she could stop herself, Morrigan muttered, "You're not a man at all." Horrified, she clapped a hand over her mouth.

Voldemort simply smiled. "You are right, my dear, I'm not a man."

"Well," Morrigan said slowly, "not mentally. But even a fractured soul isn't enough to annul the simple fact that you are, in fact, human, even if your father was a Muggle."

Voldemort stood, his face furious. "Who told you?" he roared, striding forward and grabbing her by the front of her t-shirt. The cold touch that Morrigan had once craved like sweet life now felt horrid to her, and she flinched. "Who told you about H-h--" His anger left Voldemort unable to phrase the word.

"Harry Potter," she said with a smirk. "He's like my best friend," she said. Why on earth was she provoking the madman? It was insanity; she didn't know where these words were coming from.

"Is he?!" Voldemort screamed in her face. His breath reeked, the stench that of an entirely carnivorous animal's breath.

Morrigan turned her head.

"Let's play a game, shall we?" Voldemort asked her, his voice ominously quiet. He took his wand from her hand and threw it.

"Go get it," he whispered and let go of Morrigan. She stared at him in horror, unsure of what to do, frozen to the spot.

"Go get it," he repeated, brandishing his wand threateningly. She paled considerably, and knew that it was almost over.

She turned and began running. When she was a foot from her wand, it flew back, closer to Voldemort. She raced after it, feeling stupid and pained at such an awful pre-death ritual. So it went, each time she chased after her wand, it would flick out of the way and she would run for it again, huffing and puffing tiredly. She knew if she stopped, he would kill her, so she kept running, her fear giving her strength.

Soon he began tossing curses at her, laughing at his own cleverness and as she dodged. Sometimes she managed to avoid the curse and it would hit the granite, cracking the floor. Usually, however, she was cursed, and would drop to the ground, shivering, forcing herself not to scream in pain. He would stop after twenty seconds, and the chase would resume. An idea passed through her tired mind, and she decided that she was going to die soon, anyway, and if it didn't work, it didn't make a difference.

"Your mother was a whore!" she screamed. "She needed some crummy Muggle to feel good about herself, and even then it wasn't enough. He left her. I don't know why, but he did. And then she died, because she didn't have any desire to live without the stupid Muggle." This was all information Draco had revealed to her at some point, but she didn't know the full story. It was enough, though, and Voldemort froze briefly.

In that crucial moment, Morrigan leapt and grabbed her wand, pointing it at Voldemort and screaming, "LEGILIMENS!"

His mind opened up to her like a flower, and she instantaneously saw those memories Voldemort thought of most frequently. Killing Lily Potter, who shielded her screaming son. Creating the Horcruxes, his face alive. Opening the Chamber of Secrets to kill the school Mudbloods. All of it...it was all devoid of love. Without that factor...she understood what love was. This one individual had been so devoid of love his entire life, his life had been built around this empty factor, and he had defined love so clearly with his life, becoming an unintentional catalyst for the one feeling he could not comprehend, could not himself feel.

It all happened so quickly, no more than five seconds, and then Morrigan was being thrown forcibly from Voldemort's mind, her body also moving backwards across the floor. With an angry, muffled sound, Voldemort screamed, "CRUCIO!" The pain was so intense, Morrigan hadn't known it could be this bad. Apparently he had been taking it easy on her all those other times. Morrigan tried not to scream, but she broke in three seconds, her voice piercing the air satisfactorily. She clawed at her face, her scalp, her neck. She pounded the floor, scratching her nails across the marble with such force that they ripped off. She could feel the warmth gushing across her hands, and as she pawed at her face, her lips, her cheeks. She could smell it, taste it, feel it. If only it would stop, if only she could stop...this was so terrible. Maybe she should retreat, should go away. Her body wouldn't have to hurt without the mind. She could go away, and she wouldn't be able to feel the unbearable pain. Yes, that would be nice. She could just retreat into her mind...

The pain evaporated slowly, and she smiled mentally. It had worked. She was going away, never to worry about the infinite pain anymore...she could see Draco there, and he could do anything she wanted him to. He would hold her hand, and he would never, ever leave her. She would always be happy; she would never have to worry about anything bad anymore....

"Morrigan," said a voice urgently, tugging at her. She could see Draco leaning over her, and she smiled weakly.

"Draco," she whispered. "It worked, and you're right here with me. I knew it would work, it had to work," she muttered dreamily. She reached a hand up to touch his face and saw that they were raw and bloody. "That can't be right," she muttered. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed her fingers to be whole and beautiful again. She opened her eyes again saw that her hands were still bloodied.

"Morrigan, we have to go," Draco told her. There were the unmistakable sounds of battle behind her, but she wasn't really paying attention. She rolled her eyes into the back of her head dreamily, and Draco growled in frustration. He grabbed her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder.

"Crucio!" he screamed, pointing at Voldemort, who was battling with Harry. The tall man stopped momentarily, and Harry, the Polyjuice Potion having worn off, retreated, adding his own Cruciatus Curse to impede Voldemort against following them.

He grimaced at Morrigan's haggard appearance. She was obviously delirious, and he felt so guilty for what their lateness had done to her. They ran out the door and finally dared to turn and run out the gates. Harry picked up the oversize robes and ran behind them. In the courtyard, people stared at them in surprise, forgetting that Harry Potter was not supposed to be there and that the Dark Lord would give much to have him. One Death Eater caught his head and turned to follow them. Morrigan saw him, and, pointing her wand at him, she giggled, "St--st--Stupefy!" He was caught between the eyes and fell to the ground.

Draco cringed at the sound of her maniacal laughter, hoping it wasn't too late, that she wouldn't be joining his father....

They came to the gates, where three Death Eaters blocked their way--Rodolphus, Avery, and Amycus. They sneered at the three. "Think you're getting out of here alive?" Rodolphus asked, laughing with the other two goons.

"Yes, I think we are," Draco snapped. "Impedimenta!" he bellowed, putting all his mental power into it. Rodolphus hit the gate and dropped painfully to the dirt. Harry took Amycus out and now Avery was left, sending curses at them, both erecting and reconstructing every Shield Charm for every curse. Finally, when Avery was pointing his wand at Draco, being the weakest with Morrigan on his back, Harry caught him in the face with an Impediment Jinx. Draco pointed his wand at the gates, which rose immediately, and the two boys retreated into the dark forest, Apparating to their own houses immediately.

* * *

The moment he appeared in his house, Draco leapt up the stairs two at a time to drop Morrigan on his bed. He sprinted to the next room, where a cabinet with several antidotes and medicines sat in a cabinet, labeled clearly on the sides of their vials.

He found one for pain, and another for quick healing. He ran back into his bedroom, where Morrigan was babbling incoherently. "Oh god," he said aloud, "Please stay with me, Morrigan."

She hiccupped loudly, and he grimaced, then picked her up, taking her to the bathroom, starting the bath. Once it had filled with warm water, he pulled her shoes and pants off, dropping her in, t-shirt and undergarments still on. She gasped in shock, looking around. Draco began to wash her hands, trying not to cringe at her fingers. She was a mess. He washed her face thoroughly.

After he finished, he went back into the bedroom to get a set of light robes for Morrigan to wear. He got her out of the tub, drying her off and putting the clothes on. She was shivering and holding her hands aloft, muttering about them hurting. "I know, I know," he said soothingly. "You'll be all right." He led her by the wrist to the bed where he forced her to lay down and began applying the potions.

She sat still for him, allowing him to help her. He went back into his storeroom and brought back a Sleeping Draught and forced her to drink it. He watched her fall asleep, watched her worriedly.

* * *

Morrigan slept for two days, her body recovering and her mind recovering. She woke abruptly one afternoon, and stood shakily, rubbing her eyes with the back of her palm. She looked down at her hand in shock at the bandages, which covered every fingertip and making each finger look like a q-tip; she then noticed she had no idea where she was. She opened the door and walked out into the corridor, looking down at the foreign robes. The sun shone through a window at the end of the hallway, but she ignored it in favor of descending to the downstairs, which she instantly recognized.

She found Draco in his sitting room and stood in the doorway, looking down at the young man that had saved her.

"Hi, Draco," she said tiredly.

Draco looked up at her and smiled, his face stretched with weariness. "Hello, Morrigan. How are you feeling, Morrigan?" he asked her.

"I'm fine. What happened?" she asked, confused.

"You don't remember?" He frowned.

"No, well, not completely. Bits and flashes...I saw your face a bit, but otherwise I think I was pretty far gone."

"Yes, I thought you might be joining my father at St. Mungo's," he admitted. "I'm glad that's not the case."

"Just barely," she said foggily. "I don't think I was totally with it for some time. It's like a gap in my memories." She shook her head forcefully.

"You'll be able to go home tonight if you want to," Draco sighed.

"Thanks, Draco," Morrigan smiled. "Again."