𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒

XIX

Act XIX.

Audiatur et altera pars.

The other part should be heard as well.

Draco lurched violently as he felt himself being painfully tugged in two directions. There was a burgeoning pain in his chest that had started suddenly after the portkey’s activation and it was now spreading like liquid fire throughout his body. His vision was starting to swim as he felt himself jerk forward once again, and he wished with all his might that the world would stop spinning for just one bloody second! Suddenly he felt the tug on his navel break off as he landed quite viciously onto a hardwood floor.

“Ouch.” He groaned as he clutched at his chest, the ache still throbbing so painfully that his breaths were coming out in short pants. He tried to sit up slowly but merely accomplished landing sorely on his arse. “Oh gods, I hate portkeys!” he mumbled as he gave up on sitting up fully and merely decided to crawl slowly and surely to his bed. Once there, he grasped the sheets and gingerly pulled himself on top of the bed, landing on it exhaustedly. And as soon as his head touched the pillow, he fell into a dead faint, not even noticing that the sheets he lay on were too scratchy to be his or sensing the unfamiliar warmth against his side.

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Lucius Malfoy strutted smugly down the long hall, holding his head high as he smirked at the various unfortunate Death Eaters that were chained along the brick walls in various stages of torture. Once he neared the end of the pathway, he knelt on one knee and bowed his head, waiting for his Lord to acknowledge him.

“Lucius, I did not call for you,” Voldemort said impatiently. “What is it that brings you here? And take pains to make it short. I have no time for your dawdling.”

“Yes, Master,” Lucius answered eagerly, lifting his head to meet his master’s red eyes. “I have acquired the means to prove my claim. . I humbly request the opportunity to present it at the Revels tonight.”

“Hmm. Interesting.” Voldemort stroked his chin thoughtfully. He stood and walked over to his kneeling servant. Tracing a cold finger along Lucius’ cheek, he smiled chillingly. “Are you quite sure about the reliability of your sources? I would really hate to lose such an invaluable spy in the Order just because of your whims, Lucius.” He raked his fingernail sharply against the pale porcelain of the blonde’s skin, watching avidly as a thread of red blood slowly followed his nail’s trail. “You are, after all, in great danger of losing my favor. With your traitorous son, who according to Severus, is still unrepentant of his betrayal. And now this bold claim against one of my own? Do be careful, Lucius.” The mark on Lucius cheek began to burn and boil over with pus. “One could fall and slip so easily.”

Desperately trying not to flinch at the excruciating pain against his skin, Lucius met the Dark Lord’s flashing red eyes unwaveringly. “I am certain.”

Straightening, Voldemort smiled down at his servant beatifically. “Good. Then your request is granted. Be prepared tonight.” He waved his hand, a gesture that both served to dismiss the pale blonde and heal the mark on his cheek, leaving him once again pale and unblemished.

Standing up, Lucius bowed his head once more before pivoting on his heel and leaving the room. He let out the sigh of relief he’d been holding back as he reached the opposite end of the double doors. Then, with a decisive fortifying breath, he Apparated home.

After all, there was still plenty to be done before tonight.

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Harry shifted uncomfortably in his sleep, the sudden chill of the night nipping at his left side whilst his right side remained oddly warm. Still in the depths of deep slumber, he shifted and huddled closer to the source of heat, wrapping slackened arms around it. He smiled faintly as more warmth seeped into his body and fine silken hair tickled softly against his nose.