Escorts Entangled Chapter Eight (really!)

[dysonrules]

Title:  Escorts Engtangled
Rating:  NC17
Warnings:  Slytherin overdose
Summary:  Harry and Draco confront Lucius Malfoy.  Or vice-versa.

Chapter Eight

 

            Draco kissed Harry lingeringly one last time, trying to suppress his annoyance.  He knew it was foolish to wish for one last chance to make love to Harry, but foolishness seemed to run in his blood lately.  He broke the kiss at last and turned to his father as if unconcerned.  As expected, Pansy stood next to him, looking frightened and defeated.

            “Pansy wanted to say hello,” Lucius said pleasantly.  “Say hello, Pansy.  You might say goodbye to Potter, he won’t be with us much longer.”

            Pansy said nothing until Lucius swung his gaze to her.  ‘H… hello, Draco,” she said.  Draco set his jaw.  He hated to see her so cowed.  She must have suffered immensely to be so terrified against her very nature.

            “Pansy,” Draco replied calmly.  “Nice to see you again, although the circumstances leave much to be desired.”

            “I’m disappointed in you, Draco,” Lucius said.  “Not surprised, mind you, but disappointed.”

            “What else is new?” Draco muttered, loud enough for his father to hear.  The grey eyes narrowed at his words and Draco felt a flash of satisfaction.  Insolence was insolence and apparently would remain so until Draco died, according to Lucius Malfoy.  Unfortunately, this was not the time to bait his father.  Draco saw his father’s wand lift and spoke quickly.  “I assume you brought Pansy here for a reason other than allowing us to exchange our final goodbyes?”

            “I am feeling generous this month, apparently.  I offered you a chance at redemption and now I am giving Pansy that same opportunity,” Lucius said.

            Draco nearly gnashed his teeth and asked why he didn’t just kill Harry himself if he wanted it done so badly, but he knew damn well it would provoke Lucius into doing just that.  As long as his father was playing twisted games, they might have a chance.  If nothing else, it would prolong the time of their deaths.  Unfortunately, Harry was not so circumspect.

            “Why don’t you leave her alone?” he snarled.  Draco gripped his wand more tightly, preparing to cast a Shield Charm to deflect whatever Lucius chose to fling at them.  He only hoped it wasn’t a Killing Curse.

Instead of hexing them, his father only sneered.  “It would have been easier for you if Draco had killed you, Potter.  Pansy, I believe it is time for you to work your way back into my good graces.  You know what to do.”

            She blanched and took her wand from her robes with shaking hands.  Draco began to fear she was truly broken.  “I…  I can’t,” she said.  “They spelled my wand.”

            Lucius snatched it from her and took a moment to break whatever charms the staff at St. Mungos had cast on it.  He handed it back and gifted Pansy with a cold smile.  “I can see a tiny flash of rebellion in your eyes, Pansy.  I advise you that I will not be so easy to kill as Mulciber.”

            Pansy looked away and Draco could see her throat move as she swallowed.  He applauded her for even considering turning on the bastard.  She could hardly miss at that range.  Part of him wished she would give in to the urge and simply do it, but her defeated expression returned and he sighed inwardly, knowing the moment had passed.  Draco saw mute apology in her eyes and he moved to block Harry from her view, raising his chin defiantly.  If Pansy planned to kill Harry, she would need to go through him.  Unfortunately, he did not think that would be much of a deterrent.  Regardless of what they had gone through in Scotland, he and Pans were not exactly close any longer.

            Her lips curved slightly—in appreciation of his sacrifice, or amusement at his stupidity?  Regardless, Lucius was not pleased at her hesitation.  He turned on her immediately with a snarled, “Crucio!”  A startled shriek tore from her throat and she collapsed as if suddenly deflated.  Harry’s fingers dug into Draco’s arm and he was suddenly glad that the wand was in his hand instead of his lover’s.  The Gryffindor had a low tolerance for witnessing torture.  With wand or without, they were both helpless to stop it, but he knew Harry would have tried.

            Pansy’s screams went on and on until Draco realized Lucius no longer tortured her as punishment, but rather for his own sadistic pleasure.  “Father!” he yelled.  The silver eyes turned to his with a mad light Draco barely recognized.  The man that had helped Draco onto his first broom and hugged him tightly when he cast his first spell was gone, burned away by whatever insanity he had inherited under years of servitude to the Dark Lord.

            “Leave her alone!” Harry snarled, stepping out from behind Draco.  “I will never understand why you would-be Dark Lords get off on tormenting those weaker than yourselves.”

            “Are you volunteering to take her place, Potter?” Lucius taunted.

            Harry shrugged.  “Yeah, why not?  You’re going to kill me, anyway.”

            The silver-tipped wand leveled itself immediately at Harry.  The murmured Cruciatus Curse was blocked by Draco’s weak Shield Charm.  He glared defiantly at his father, who sneered.  “How long do you think to protect him, Draco?”

            “As long as I can,” he replied firmly.  “Why did you really bring Pansy here?  Your redemption story is not fooling anyone.”  Draco’s eyes flicked to Snape, who leaned against the same table he had utilized the night before.  The winemaker looked bored.

            “To punish her, of course.  She was instrumental in the failure of the events I set in motion with Mulciber, as well as his demise.  He was ever an obedient servant and I am not at all pleased at his loss.  Your precious Harry Potter should have died in his stead, along with countless others.  You know I have never accepted failure lightly.”

            “That spell would have decimated the population,” Harry snarled.  “There are few enough wizards as it is.”

            “The fewer there are, the easier they are to control, something the Dark Lord knew well.  Why do you think he was so keen to destroy the Mudbloods?  They outnumber the purebloods by quite a large margin and they breed like flies.”

            “And you plan to continue on his mad path?” Harry asked.

            “I am forging my own path, Potter, as you have seen.  The Dark Lord sought to destroy the Ministry and bring war to the world.  I plan to control the Ministry and bring peace.”

            “Peace,” Harry sneered.  “Your peace will never be worth the price.”

            Lucius laughed.  “I have almost forgotten how much fun it is to debate with idealists.  The inability to see past their own morals is endlessly amusing.”

            Draco could feel Harry’s suppressed rage and knew it would not be long before his Gryffindor did something foolish, although his options were limited trapped in the circle as they were.

            Pansy had risen shakily to her knees.  She raised a hand to touch the blood that marred the corner of her mouth.  Her black eyes narrowed as her wand lifted.  Draco wanted to shout a warning to her, but it was too late.  She leveled her wand.

            “Avada Kedavra!” she screamed.

            Draco winced.  As expected, nothing happened, except that Lucius turned and stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter.  Pansy looked at her wand in horror.

            “Pansy, Pansy, Pansy.  It will be almost a shame to kill you,” Lucius cried as his shoulders shook with laughter.  “Surely you did not expect me to trust you?  Such a predictable, deceptive little bitch!”  His last word was accompanied by a backhanded blow that caught her on the temple and sent her to the stone floor once more.  The laughter ceased immediately and his face twisted in rage.  He began his torture anew, even though Pansy did not respond—she seemed thankfully unconscious.

            Harry’s fingers dug into Draco’s arm.  “Why didn’t the Killing Curse work?”

            “He only pretended to remove the suppressing spells from her wand,” Draco explained woodenly.  “To see what she would do.”

            “Your father is a sick fuck,” Harry said.  His words were proven by Lucius losing all control and kicking at Pansy’s limp form with his black boots, alternating the blows with Cruciatus Curses.  “We’ve got to stop him.  He’ll kill her.”

            Draco did not bother to point out that Lucius was going to kill them all and that Pansy was the lucky one at the moment, because she was not awake to feel the torment.  Before either of them could attempt to distract his father, another voice rang out.

            “Lucius.  That is quite enough.”

            The platinum head rose and Lucius stared disbelievingly at Snape before a sneer twisted his lips.  “Severus?  Certainly you are not growing soft?”

            “In your eagerness to inflict pain, you are losing sight of your ultimate goal.  Can we get back to it, perhaps?  I have duties.”

            “The fate of the Wizarding World is more important than your next batch of Madeira, Severus.”

            Snape shrugged.  “To you, perhaps, but not to me.  Finish your business and get out of my house.  I want to be left in peace, as you well know.”

            “Do not presume to order me about, Severus,” Lucius said in a dangerous tone.

            “I am not your servant, Lucius.  I delivered Potter and your son to you, now finish your bloody task and get the hell out!  In fact, I tire of watching you.  I have casks that need turning.  I assume you can let yourself out when you’ve finished.  And I expect you to clean up your mess, as well.”

            Lucius glared as Snape brushed past him, heading for the stairs.  “You go too far, Severus.”

            Snape shrugged.  “Torture me if you must, but do so quickly.  I have no patience for this.”  He paused with one foot on the stairs and watched Lucius steadily.  After a tense moment, Lucius chuckled.

            “Ah, Severus, my old friend.  You know you are the only one who can speak to me that way and live.”

            Snape rolled his eyes.  “Come up for a glass of before you leave,” he said.  “Oh yes, and one more thing.”  He pointed his wand at Draco and cast a wordless spell.  Draco braced himself, but nothing seemed to happen.  Snape smirked and withdrew, watched by several sets of distrustful eyes.

            “What did he do?” Harry whispered.

            Draco watched his father carefully, but Lucius seemed just as puzzled by Snape’s strange behavior.  He muttered something uncomplimentary about the winemaker and then turned toward them.

            “Time to die, Potter.”

            Harry tried to push Draco aside and a short wrestling match ensued when Draco refused to be pushed.  “Do you really plan to murder your own son?” Harry demanded.

            “He is no longer my son, Potter.  Stand aside, Draco.  I’ll kill you first if I must, but I would rather you watch your lover die.  As I did.”  A momentary flash of pain crossed his father’s features and he realized that as twisted as Lucius was, he had loved Narcissa and still mourned her death.

            “How can you wish that upon me?” Draco snarled.  “Do you think Mother would approve of this insanity?”

            “Do you think she would have approved of your taking up with Potter?” Lucius countered angrily.  “Now stand aside, Draco.  I won’t tell you again.”

            Harry pushed him once more and Draco turned on him angrily, only to find Harry staring at him though wide green eyes.  “Draco,” he whispered.  “You’re standing on the circle.”

            Draco did not dare to look down, but he knew Harry was right.  The usual pressure associated with the circle’s edge was missing.  Snape must have dispelled it.

            “That son of a bitch,” Draco murmured before he whirled and cast a Stunner at his father.  Lucius Malfoy’s distrust served him well—if not prepared, he was at least more than wary and lightning fast, throwing himself to the side and casting a Deflecting Charm at the same time.

            “Damn you, Severus!” Lucius bellowed as Draco stepped out of the circle with Harry on his heels.  “Avada—”

            Draco’s Sectumsempra nearly took off his father’s arm, stopping the Killing Curse before it could start.  Lucius sealed the wound with a snarled spell and attempted another hex, but Draco’s experience in the past few years stood him in good stead.  Fighting Dark creatures was the norm for him, while his father had doubtless been living a comfortable, sedentary life.  Draco went on the offensive and did not let up for a moment.  He knew it would be simplest to cast a Killing Curse, but the spell froze on his lips.  Damn it to hell, the man was still his father.  How could he live with killing him?

 

xxXxx

 

            Harry kept an eye on Draco as he ran to Pansy.  He threw himself next to her, snatching up her fallen wand in passing, even though he wasn’t sure he could even cast a weak Shield Charm with the altered wand.  He checked for a pulse and felt a stab of relief when he found one—weak and erratic, but still there.  He felt somewhat responsible for Lucius forcing yet more torture on her after Harry had vowed to protect her.

            Harry glanced at Draco dueling his father.  He knew the usual offensive spells were unavailable to him, so he restrained himself from shouting one of a dozen pain-inflicting spells in his arsenal.  Instead, he raised Pansy’s wand and shouted, “Turbinis maximus!”

            The cape Lucius favored swirled, lifted, and wrapped itself around his head and chest, trapping his wand hand and half-smothering him.  He fought to free himself—too late.  Draco’s shout rang out and a blast of light flung Lucius backward into the stone wall.  He grunted in pain, fell forward, and lay still.

            Harry shot to his feet and raced over to envelope his lover in a hard embrace.  He could hardly fathom that they were still alive.  And not merely alive, but relatively unscathed, except for the loss of Harry’s excessive powers.  Draco allowed him to place an exuberant kiss on his lips before pushing him away.  “Down, Harry, we need to do something about my father.”

            “And then deal with Snape,” Harry growled.

            “Nice maneuver with the cape,” Draco added.

            “I didn’t have much choice with this wand.”  He held up Pansy’s slender wand and Draco took it with a frown.  Harry exchanged it for Draco’s and cast an experimental Lumos with his lover’s wand.

            “Did you notice any lessening of your ability?” Harry asked curiously.

            “No, not really.”

            “Odd, considering that you gave me half of your magic.”

            Draco started to reply, but his eyes widened and Harry spun quickly.  Lucius had shaken off the Stunner—how the hell had he done that?—and now struggled to rise while lifting his wand, aiming it straight for Draco.

            “Worthless whelp,” Lucius snarled.  “Avada Ke—”

            Pansy’s foot shot through the air and connected with Lucius Malfoy’s wrist with a sharp crack.  The blast of green light sailed over Draco’s head and impacted with the wooden ceiling with enough force to crack the beams.

            “Avada Kedavra,” Harry echoed quietly through the rage hammering in his ears.  The bastard had nearly killed Draco!  The curse shot forth from the wand in his hand, but unlike the elder Malfoy’s, Harry’s hex did not miss.  Lucius Malfoy jerked once, illuminated in sickly green, and then lay still forever.  His reign as the Benefactor was over.

            Harry sagged slightly, a bit stunned by his lack of hesitation.  He turned to Draco with eyes wide.  “God, Draco, I’m so sorry.”

            Draco’s arms went around him immediately.  “Don’t be.  He tried to kill me.  Bloody hell, Harry, he really wanted to kill me.”

            “Your father was a real son of a bitch, Draco,” Pansy said dryly from her still-prone position on the floor.  Draco released Harry and hurried toward her while Harry verified that Lucius Malfoy would definitely not rise again.  He half-expected the white-haired bastard’s eyes to open like some mad Inferi, or some… Voldemort.

            “Is he dead?” Draco asked.  Harry wished guilt did not assail him at the question.  He regretted not disarming Lucius after Draco had Stunned him—he would still be alive and on his way to Azkaban.  Not that Harry believed there would have been hope of the man ever learning a lesson, but still…

            “He’s dead.”  Harry picked up the black wand and grimaced at the fanged serpent adorning it.  He supposed he should hang on to it as a sort of family heirloom for Draco, even though he would rather have tossed the thing into an incinerator.  “How is Pansy?”

            “I’ve been better,” she replied, but with Draco’s help she had regained her feet.  “Thanks for ridding the world of another menace, Potter.  I only wish he could have suffered a bit more before the end.  After the hell he put me through…”  She glared at the still form and Harry thought she was restraining the urge to stalk forward and kick the body a few times.  He knew how she felt.

            “Draco, do you think your father would have made Horcruxes, like Voldemort?”  It was a chilling thought.

            Thankfully, Draco shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  He always thought the Dark Lord was foolish to have tried to live beyond his time, especially considering the price he paid.”  Draco laughed without humor.  “Can you imagine Lucius Malfoy returning as some sort of hideous being?  His appearance was always a matter of pride for him.”

            Harry hid his smile, knowing the apple had not fallen far from the tree as far as that issue was concerned.  He sighed.  “So, what do we do about Snape?”

            “I think the most prudent thing to ‘do about Snape’ is to get out of his house and never darken his doorstep again,” a snide voice interjected from the steps.  Harry turned to see the winemaker lounging against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, nearly blending in with the darkness there.  Harry instinctively cast a Stunning Spell, but Snape deflected it with barely a flick of his wand.  The black-haired man sneered.  “Draco, put a leash on your pet, if you please.”

            Draco replied, “As far as I am concerned, Severus, Harry has the right to extract vengeance upon you.  You have much to answer for.”

            Snape huffed.  “Spare me your righteous indignation.  You would never have defeated Lucius on his terms.  This way he was unprepared and he allowed his emotions to get the better of him.  As expected, your Gryffindor pulled his usual trick of surviving against all odds.”

            “You expected us to win?” Draco asked incredulously.

            Snape shrugged.  “Naturally.”

            “Lucius nearly fucking killed Draco!” Harry yelled, barely restraining himself from casting another Killing Curse.

            Snape waved a hand airily.  “As if you would ever allow that to happen, Potter.  I anticipated you to leap in front of any deadly curses meant for Draco, nobly sacrificing yourself and all that.  Pity it wasn’t necessary.”

            Harry clenched his teeth.  If not for Pansy’s well-aimed kick, Draco would be dead.  Harry would gladly have thrown himself in front of the Killing Curse, but it had happened too quickly.  “I really hate you,” he gritted.  “I should cut you down like the cur you are.  You took my magic!”

            “That was an unfortunate side effect of trying to remove Avery’s signature.”

            “An unfortunate side effect?” Harry bellowed and lifted the wand once more.  Draco put a calming hand on Harry’s wrist and stood close to his side.  Harry took a deep breath and glared at the winemaker.  He wondered at Snape’s uncanny ability to make him lose control.

            “Is there any way to get Harry’s magic back?” Draco asked.

            Snape levered himself away from the wall and strode forward, but Harry noticed he kept his wand in hand.  At least he was not completely immune to Harry’s need to destroy him.  “There is no need.  The magic you foolishly gifted to him will mingle with the traces of his own and eventually regenerate into something resembling his original signature.”  Harry blanched at the thought of Snape spying on their private ritual.  Snape continued, “He will, however, always maintain traces of yours, so spells keyed to the Malfoy family will be accessible to Potter.”

            Harry glanced at Draco, who smiled softly.  Harry grinned back and felt a rush of warmth.  For a moment he was almost grateful to Snape for allowing him to share Draco’s magic.  It made the bond between them seem even stronger.

            “Spare me the lovesick staring into one another’s eyes, if you don’t mind.  I have not yet eaten and you are destroying my appetite.  Pansy, dear, let me take a look at you.  I am sorry to have left you to Lucius’s less than tender mercies.”

            “I’m sure you are,” she growled sarcastically.

            Snape looked surprisingly contrite, an expression that made Harry actually gape in astonishment—he had not thought the hatchet-like features could bend in such a remorseful fashion.  “Truly, I am,” Snape replied.  “Of everyone here, you deserved his rough treatment the least.”

            She looked away and shrugged, although the movement made her grimace in pain.  “I’m not so innocent.  I sought him out in the beginning.  I foolishly thought I might make him fall in love with me.”

            Harry stared at her.  “Lucius?  You wanted Lucius Malfoy?”

            Pansy threw him a quelling look.  “I could not have Draco!” she snapped.  “You made certain of that, Potter.  Lucius was almost kind to me in the beginning.  Narcissa’s death nearly unhinged him and I wanted to help.  I think I gave him some comfort, until the madness took over and he began to treat me like just another piece of property.  He was incensed by what he saw as Draco’s betrayal.  When I tried to defend Draco, it was over.  That was when he shut me out of his plans entirely and launched his plot with Mulciber.”

            Harry nearly asked why she did not simply leave, but he remembered at the last moment that Lucius had apparently enjoyed using the Imperius Curse on her, among other things.  He looked at Draco, unwillingly recalling the six long months when Draco had been forced to forget Harry.  He suddenly felt much less guilty for killing Draco’s father.

            Snape approached Pansy cautiously and began to run a few diagnostic spells that Harry recognized from his multiple visits to various hospital wards.  He followed those with a number of healing spells.  Draco removed his wand from Harry’s grasp and used it to unlock the blocking spells on Pansy’s wand.

            “Where is Harry’s wand?” Draco asked.

            “Upstairs.”

            Harry’s lips thinned.  He would rather hand-carve a new wand than ask Snape to return his.  Draco handed Pansy’s restored wand to Harry with a sardonic grin.  Harry recognized the look—Draco trusted him not to turn Snape into a smoking pile of ash… yet.

            “There,” Snape said with a self-satisfied air.  “That should suffice until you reach a suitable healing facility.”

            “I’m not going back to St. Mungo’s,” Pansy stated.

            Snape shrugged.  “There are other places.”

            Pansy looked at Draco almost helplessly.  “Actually, I never thought I would be free of him.  I had almost resigned myself to dying at his hands.  I… don’t know where to go.”

            Harry managed not to blanch, barely, at the thought of taking Pansy back to London.  She would have to stay with them, of course.  She was sort of Harry’s responsibility now, he figured.

            “You may stay here, if you’d like,” Snape offered.

            Three pairs of eyes turned to him with identical expressions.

            The former Potion’s Master assumed a familiar scowl.  “I could use an assistant,” he snapped.  “I despise the tedious chore of maintaining my calendar.  I would much rather concentrate on perfecting my vintages.”

            Pansy looked at him speculatively and Harry tried not to think about what the Slytherin girl might have planned for the winemaker.  He would rather not know.  He would definitely rather not know.  He exchanged a look with Draco and was pleased to see a similar mortified expression there.

            “I might take you up on that, Severus,” Pansy purred.  “And thank you.”

            “I think it’s time to go home,” Draco said.

            “Wait, we can’t just let him get away with what he did to us!” Harry protested.  “He would have let your father kill us without lifting a bloody finger to stop him!”

            “What would you have us do, Harry?  Do you plan to cast the Killing Curse on him?”  He wished Draco’s voice was not tinged with amusement.

            “No, but a Cruciatus or two might be nice,” he gritted.

            “Have at it, Potter,” Snape taunted.

            Harry lifted his wand, but the thought of Draco’s disapproval halted him.  He lowered it with an oath.

            Snape smirked.  “I knew you wouldn’t have the guts, Potter.”

            A wrestling match ensued then, and Draco managed to tear the wand from Harry’s hand mainly through judicious murmuring of things he planned to do to Harry when they got home.  As distractions went, Draco was a professional.

            “I still think he should pay,” Harry muttered as he followed Draco up the stairs in the wake of Pansy and the damned winemaker.  “What are we supposed to do about the Dark Magic?  I was the only one who could break the spells!”

            Another snort issued from Snape and Harry’s hand itched to grip a wand.  Just a couple of Crucios…  Ten or twelve, maybe?  “Egocentric as ever, aren’t you, Potter?  It must be interesting to believe yourself indispensible to the wizarding world.”

            Draco’s hand on his shoulder prevented Harry from charging up the steps and shoving Snape.  Draco said, “It’s a fact, Severus.  Harry has tried to teach us several times.”

            “I happen to know the counterspell, Draco.”

            Harry groaned aloud.  Now he didn’t dare kill the cretin.  Not until they mastered the counterspell, at any rate.  “Prove it,” Harry sneered.

            “At my convenience,” Snape admitted.  “Would you care for a glass of wine, Pansy?  Draco?”  The omission of Harry did not go unnoticed.

            “You could try to stop provoking Harry, Severus,” Draco said dryly.

            “What would be the fun in that?”

            Draco sighed.  “I’m taking us home.  Severus, I’ll be in touch.”

            Snape picked up a wooden box from a nearby table and tossed it to Draco.  “Potter’s wand.  I trust you’ll not give it to him until you are gone from here?”

            “What would be the fun in that?” Draco repeated drolly.

            Harry grabbed Draco’s arm.  “Let’s just go,” he snapped.  Being surrounded by Slytherins was annoying beyond comprehension.  He dragged Draco to the fireplace and they Flooed straight back to Grimmauld Place.

CHAPTER NINE

Does anyone really need the original links?
Okay, here's the beginning of this part because it's been a year since I updated:  Escorts Entangled Chapter One