What It Means To Be

by spinner

10

"Six ounces of the finest ground Dover you're likely to find.  Crushed bone from an open grave.  Gives it extra staying power.  Essential liquid ingredients."

Draco handed Brim three capped vials, and she accepted them with a nod. 

"Right."

"To insure you have the correct remaining ingredients, I need to know your purpose.  White magic runes?  Are you drawing a simple protection spell?  A love charm?  A baby blessing?"

"We need to hold a reluctant spirit captive long enough for a polite conversation while preventing any harm to the clairvoyant conduit," Harry remarked, moving the carpet to the side of the room.   Severus straightened up from where he had leaned over to warm his hands by the fire.

"Would you mind repeating that?" he stammered.  Harry's eyes traced the place where his streak of white was now concealed.  He felt his eyes drawn there because as dark a dye as Severus had found, it didn't quite match his own hair color, which was touched here and there with black-red.  The effect was that of a coal black streak in black-red hair.   What manner of beast had that been, chasing Snape up out of the very depths of hell, Harry wondered.    

"I wouldn't mind," Harry said, grinning a hint.

"Is that what that vortex back in your room was all about?" Snape growled.  "You opened it without the protective circle last time??  Harry! That portal could have swallowed the whole of Hogwarts!!"

"Success depends on how reluctant your spirit is going to be," Draco interjected, trying to maintain a business-like approach.  "If the departed isn't interested in staying, no amount of white magic is going to bind it to the spot, no matter how short or polite your conversation is.  You have to keep your spirit interested if you want to talk."

"He'll be interested," Harry mused. 

"Oh my god," Severus whispered under his breath.  He put a hand over his mouth, his dark eyes wide with concern.

"I knew what you were up to the minute I saw the Restless Spirits book on your bed," Draco said, digging around in his cloak and pulling out more vials of ingredients.

"You did?" Harry questioned.   Brim had commandeered a small ceramic bowl from the kitchens.  Spit and Sparks were in front of the fireplace.  Spit was stoking the fire, and Sparks was standing on her tiptoes, trying to reach the wireless.  Brim knelt before the fire and mixed her vials together, stirring the concoction with the tip of her wand. 

"You have to let him go, Potter," Draco was saying.  "You can't keep running around, attempting to reach into the afterlife for Sirius Black."

"This isn't about Sirius," Harry said sadly, watching Draco show Brim the five other vials he held.

"What sort of spirit?" Draco asked Brim.  The young woman gave a half-smile.

"The worst sort," she said, nodding. 

"Very well then.  Good thing I brought a vial of Ghost of a Chance, in case you might need it.  If your spirit refuses to depart, we will pour the potion in a puddle at its feet," Malfoy explained, patting his pocket. 

"Harry, I don't know what you think you're doing, but you must stop at once," Severus warned, taking Potter by the shoulders and pulling him back from Draco and Brim. 

"I want to do something nice," Harry defended. 

"You….you have no idea…..no idea," Severus stammered.   "Arrogant boy!"

"If you're that worried, stay and help me," Harry challenged. 

"Do not discount him merely because he's dead.  He was a powerful wizard, a dangerous man, as you well know."

"I'm not afraid of him," Harry said firmly, and as much as Harry did truly mean that, Severus could feel the tremor in Potter's frame. 

"Let me get the Headmaster, or Professor McGonagall at the very least.  Is Modesto down in the Weapons Room again?"

"You can't tell Dumbledore or McGonagall.  I don't doubt they would not approve," Harry protested.   "Will you stay?"

"We need more magic to do this right," Severus motioned.  "You and I alone cannot hold him, nor make him bow to our will.  Miss Stoneburne is a start, but she's untrained."

"Miss Stoneburne can handle a chalk circle and a portal, thank you," Brim interjected between them.  She tipped the bowl of ingredients on its side and stirred another vial into the mix. 

"Volkova then?" Snape said hopefully. 

"She won't approve either."

"She's in the Dark Arts room downstairs.  She locked the door.  I suspect she is wrapping presents," Draco laughed.  "I'll get her."

"No!" Harry and Snape said in one voice. 

"You stay here.  I will reach her and bring her and Modesto both," Severus growled.  "Do not start until I return," he warned Harry before he raced down the steps and out the door. 

"So it's not Sirius you're reaching out to?" Draco asked, leaning close to Harry.  "Who is it you're looking to find?"

"You've ground it too fine—it'll never set," Brim tisked at Draco, shaking her head.  Potter watched her test the consistency of her mixture.  She poured it out of the bowl and into her hands, setting the bowl aside on the fireplace.  Spit whisked the bowl and ran for the kitchen, happy to have something to do with himself.  Sparks, having given up on reaching the wireless knobs, followed Brim around as the teen mashed the mixture between her palms, wand jammed in her pocket. 

"Miss could use a hand, perhaps?" Sparks asked, meeting Brim as she walked a circle.

"Watch your step, girly," Brim scolded her.  "Potter?  Ten feet?  Eight feet?  How enclosed do you want him?" Brim asked Harry.  Draco watched and waited, clueless.

"Ten feet," Harry replied, doing his best to quell the quake that was taking over his hands. 

"A portal?!" Sparks gasped, racing out of the middle of the floor as Brim knelt down with her chalk and started a circular spiral.  She traced around an oblong distortion for a few turns before correcting the outer rim to a more-circular form.  Once the spiral was set, Brim added another circle around the outer-most ring, leaving a foot of space open.  Sparks stood on before the fireplace and paced in place. 

"Is this how that mess in the room got started?" Draco asked, laughing.  "Oh my gods!  You were the one who opened that?!" he taunted Brim.  Miss Stoneburne glanced up from her work, smirking back at him. 

"Watch yourself, creampuff.  The McSorleys are known for their skill with Dark Arts."

"Even the least talented of witches would have known to move the furniture first," Draco teased her.  Harry wanted to tell him to shut up, but Brim wasn't the least bit daunted by Malfoy or his mockery.  Harry thought he should have come to her defense, with at the very worst a snappy remark, but someone shouting his name down below took him to the head of the stairs.

"Harry! Open the blasted door!" Snape was shouting. 

Potter motioned a hand towards the concealment wall, and the door slid aside.  Severus bounced upwards, two steps at a time, followed by Anna Volkova.  The Dark Arts professor stopped at the top of the stairs and motioned downwards into the stairwell.  A thin man in a dark cloak followed her.  Severus took his cloak from him and handed it off to Sparks, who hung it on one of the hooks by the door. Apparently they had been unable to find Modesto. 

"Will we be enough?" Volkova asked nervously. 

"Not enough.  We need thirteen," Severus paced, frantic.

"What?  Who?  How the- - -" Harry stammered to Severus.  Volkova took him by the shoulders and walked him up to the thin man.

"If this works," Volkova warned, kissing Harry on one cheek and shaking him by the shoulders. 

"Bring your mother," Snape said, standing over Brim Stoneburne as she went to the middle of the spiral and began to trace runes. 

"Oh, no," Brim laughed, shaking her head.

"She's a natural.  We need her," Severus demanded.

"No," Brim refused. 

"Mr. Fairbourne," Volkova introduced Harry.  "Mr. Potter."

"We've met, haven't we?" Harry asked.  The thin man bowed slightly, scratching his rough beard with his free hand.

"We have indeed, Mr. Potter," he answered, tucking a book about racing brooms under one arm in order to shake Harry's hand.   "Someone want to tell me why I've been dragged up in, and in such a hurry?"

"We need more magic than this," Severus interrupted Volkova's explanation.

"You don't need any more," Brim retorted.  "Thirteen or fewer will do, Mr. Snape."

"I want your mother."

"She's my mummy, and you can't have her," Brim laughed, continuing to draw ancient letters in a circular motion throughout the spiral. 

"Ah.  A spirit portal.  There are four types of shades, to my knowledge and experience.  Ghosts in transit who never crossed, ghosts in crisis with work unfinished, echo ghosts who repeat specific events or moments, and finally, poltergeists.  Which are you seeking?" Fairbourne asked, walking over to examine Brim's handiwork.

"You know a lot about the spirit world, don't you?" Brim snipped.  She held the end of her sleeve out of her way and made a face at him, hoping the nosy man would keep his distance. 

"You've made the outer circle of thorns, and that leads me to believe you want to keep your spirit trapped within in the boundary and unable to cross beyond it into the world of the living.  That would lead me to believe it's a crisis ghost."

"You'll have to ask Mr. Potter," Brim replied.  "Get those big feet of yours out of my chalk lines!" she boomed at Severus Snape.  The Potions Master stuck out one toe and mangled her current rune with a comet streak.  

"Bring your mother at once," he hissed, "or I will blow them all asunder."

"You aren't going to get my mother to come here without telling my father why you're dragging her out of the house on Christmas Eve.  Do you want to explain to my father that you're gathering an impromptu coven for the temporary dissolution of the barrier between this world and the next?  That you mean to communicate with the dead, and you need her help?  Be my guest," Brim grinned broadly.  She wiped the streaked letter with the edge of her sleeve, and then redrew the rune as Severus glared down at her.  Harry took him by the arm and tugged him out of the growing spiral. 

"Why did you bring all these people?" he whispered to Snape. 

"We needed help."

"I don't need help.  I don't know if I can do this, especially with all these people watching me," Harry whispered.

"Now is not the time to get cold feet," Snape taunted.  Volkova holding Mr. Fairbourne's hand as she walked him slowly around the chalk lines.  Draco watched them and narrowed his eyes jealously. 

"Mr. Fairbourne?  What sort are you?  North, south, east, or west?" Volkova asked.

"I've always been partial to west," Fairbourne answered.  "Call me Pel."

"West it is, Pel," Volkova answered, planting him. 

"What about me?" Draco asked, getting off the warm spot by the fireplace.  "I can be helpful."

"You're going to be busy," Harry told him bluntly.   Reality might have started dawning on Draco.  Malfoy watched Potter as Harry walked back and forth at the head of the stairs.  "I can't do this with all these people here," he breathed unevenly to himself, continuing to pace. 

"Hullo??" Hermione called up through the open door at the bottom of the stairwell.

"More people," Harry breathed erratically.  He went into the kitchen and fumbled around for a drink of water.   His blood was rushing in his ears.  He heard Hermione's voice in the other room, explaining that she was stopping by for a few things to show her parents, who had finally arrived at the Stoneburne cottage.  Snape greeted Neville and Luna with much more enthusiasm than he usually showed.  Brim and Burnie were shouting at each other again.  Sparks was stacking tidbits of food on a serving tray as Spit raced around greeting everyone. 

"Yes!  Fantastic!  Yes!  Stand here please, that's right.  Thank you," Snape was saying.  Harry felt ill, queasy, unsure. 

Potter scanned the shining counters and hoped he didn't vomit on them.  He pulled the bottle of Grande Pomme Rouge from the stack of gifts he hadn't delivered yet.  It was wrapped in a gaudy bright green and topped with a silver bow, but he knew what it was.  He stared at the stunning package, thinking it a waste to have wrapped the wine at all.  But Sparks had insisted, and she had taken great pleasure in it as well.  Harry didn't wait long for the sound of feet crossing the kitchen tiles. 

"What are you up to, Potter?" Draco demanded.  Harry fished two goblets out of the glassware in the cabinet to his left. 

"Open that, if you please," Harry pointed.  Draco pulled off the bow, tore away the paper, and contemplated the label and the bottle for a few seconds.

"I was kidding, you know.  I didn't think you had a chance of finding any Grande Pomme.  They've stopped making it.  73?  Bless my soul.  You are a wizard, aren't you, Harry Potter?   Where did you find this?"

"Snape had some.  Open that, if you please," Harry repeated, fishing a corkscrew out of the implement drawer and putting it flatly in Malfoy's grip. 

"Why are you so bloody nervous?" Draco asked, popping out the cork and tipping the blood red liquid into both the glasses.  "Drink it slowly.  You don't want a headache."

"Cheers," Harry blurted, gulping down the half glass of wine and waiting barely two seconds before refilling his vessel.  Draco sniffed at his goblet and took a sip.

"Are you summoning Voldemort?" Malfoy asked.  Harry laughed, downing his second half glass.  "Bellatrix?" Draco ventured.  Harry shook his head, put the glasses both on the counter beside the bottle, and dragged Draco by the arm back to the front area. 

"I'm telling Mum!" Burnie was shouting at Brim, who was standing in the middle of the completed chalk portal. 

"Shut yer yap, take my hand, and don't let go," Brim replied.  Burnie landed flat on the floor as Brim vanished down into the center of the circle, which rippled unevenly at first but calmed as a pool of gray and white clouds began to whirl in the floor. 

"I am so telling Mum!" Burnie repeated as the others gathered around.  Hermione reached out and held onto Burnie's hand. 

"Harry, right here," Volkova ordered, separating him from Draco and standing him in the one-foot open space at the outer rim of the portal.  Draco sat down on the fireplace front in the warm spot again.   Brim's voice came up out of the whirling gray clouds.

"What do you mean he's not here?" she was saying, clear as day. 

"Who is she talking to?" Hermione wanted to know.  Burnie shook his head.  Volkova made Hermione let go of Burnie's hand, and she pulled Granger to the outside of the circle.  As the gray clouds widened, Burnie crawled backwards, clinging desperately to his sister's hand.

"You're going to be in such trouble!" he shouted down into the growing opening.  "Mum told you no more portals, let along an L-7!  You're going to get it, Bernadette!" 

"Siblings," Harry said the word slow and clear, and Draco was on his feet at once.

"Potter?  Potter?  Stop this at once.  It's not funny.  You can't do this to me.  It's very bad form."

"You are so lucky you never had any siblings," Harry continued, smiling at Draco in a cold, familiar way.  "What do you mean stop?  Why should we stop?  It's such fun watching them do this."

"Not now.  No.  Not now," Draco repeated, his face a pale mask.

Harry jolted when Volkova took one of his hands and Severus took the other.  The rest of the wizards and witches joined hands, but they seemed to exist somewhere beyond what Harry was seeing and feeling and hearing.  His world was collapsing in around him, down into the one square foot of space and white chalk that was holding him.

"I suppose he's doing this as an act of kindness towards Draco.  You said you wanted a chance to talk to your son.  Here's your chance.  When we're done talking, we'll let you rest in peace," Snape promised, addressing the unseen one that he knew was there in Harry's place, that he suspected had been there for some time.

"Act of kindness?" Harry tilted his head to one side and gave Severus a malevolent glare.  Every hair on Snape stood up with the energy Potter was giving off.  Volkova was similarly charged.   She was whispering to herself in Latin. 

"He's not….I can't find him," Brim said, huffing and panting as she stretched up out of the portal.  Burnie pulled her to solid ground, let go of her hand, and stuck his wand down into the open portal in mirror image of what his sister was also doing.  Their combined magic was keeping the cloud bank churning. 

"He's already here," Burnie told her, nodding his head towards Potter. 

"A transit ghost," Fairbourne commented quietly. 

There was an echo of indigo around Harry's form, and then he withered to a whiter shade of pale than even the befuddled Draco had managed.  In front of Harry's body, another person was taking solid form from the thin air. 

"The right hand of the Dark Lord himself," Fairbourne was chuckling.  The congealing shape, black bat wings unfurling, dragged itself towards Fairbourne and hissed its disdain before reaching the outer rim of the circle from which he could not pass.   Fairbourne mocked him from the far edge. 

"Lucius.  Ignore them all.  Come here," Severus commanded. 

"But why should I ignore such delightful prey?" the spirituous Lucius hissed at Brim and Burnie before dragging his misshapen, uneven form back to where Volkova and Severus were barely holding Harry aloft.   Whatever had happened to Lucius since the last time Severus and Harry had seen his spirit must have been very transforming indeed.  Draco gazed over Volkova's shoulder into the chalk circle that held what had once been his father.  Tears were brimming in the young man's eyes.

"I didn't ask him to do this," Draco felt necessary to point out. 

"Are you so afraid to see me?" Lucius wanted to know, turning around as if to give them all a better view.  His once-angelic shape was malformed, maltreated, lumped and curved.  His face was gaunt, his nose broken, his eyes haunted, his hair ragged and uneven.  The wings that erupted from his lashed and bent back were crooked and broken too, and the transparent skin shuddered when he moved about.   It was as if every evil Malfoy had ever rendered on someone else was somehow fitted to his own body.  All the pain and torment was now his to carry for the rest of eternity.  Burn marks from spells gone awry, cut marks, gashes, bites—there were too many injuries to count or to countenance. 

"I didn't want this," Draco cried as if he could feel all the pain himself. 

"I have kept my promise," Severus whispered. 

"Your promise?" Lucius mocked. 

"I will see that no harm ever comes to your son."

"Will you?" Lucius challenged.  "How are you, Draco?  Are you well cared for?  Have you seen any harm?"

"I'm fine.  I'm….fine."

"Difficult to judge.  You look well but this is very bad light.  Are there no lamps in this hovel?  How do I look?"

"Ghastly," Volkova remarked with an honest nod.  Luna almost sounded the hysterical giggle in her throat, but caught herself.  Neville gazed at Harry, then to Hermione, and they exchanged their concern without words.

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever," Lucius cackled, creeping as near to the edge of the circle as he dared.  "Come closer, Draco, closer, so that I may judge for myself how you are.  That's right."

Draco edged between Volkova and Harry, clinging to Anna's hand and by necessity, Harry's as well.  Potter was shaking, his unfocused eyes half closed in concentration. 

"You're not so ghastly as all that," Draco tried to say. 

"Am I not?  Truly?" Lucius wondered, leaning a lumped shoulder to one side and edging in towards Draco.   "You've been drinking?"

"One glass," Draco admitted.  "Potter had two."

"How I miss good wine," Lucius lamented.  "I haven't had a drink in so long."

Spit dashed away, and Sparks got up on the fireplace for a better look into the circle.  She was mindful not to get too close, and backed away when Lucius leered at her. 

"How is school?" Lucius asked after a small pause.  It was obvious he couldn't ask what he might have wanted to ask with all these people present, so he was making small talk.  The emptiness of it made Severus more than a little sad.

"Fine," Draco replied awkwardly.

"Your Dark Arts classes?"

"Fine," Draco offered, nodding his head while giving Volkova a twitch of a smile. 

"Transfigurations?" Lucius questioned.

"Not so fine.  I'm selling the house," Draco blurted. 

"The house?"

"Malfoy Manor.  I'm selling it.  I wouldn't, but I need the money."

"Where will you live?" Lucius questioned.

"I have a room at Ravensrood, and Severus's wife gave me a villa too."

"His wife?" Lucius mocked.

"Ex-wife," Draco corrected himself, blushing.  "It's nice.  It's comfortable.  I like it."

"As you wish," Lucius nodded in due time.  He wasn't happy, but there was no point to arguing, that was clear.  Spit returned, bearing the opened wine bottle from the counter.  Severus stopped the eager house elf with one leg. 

"Set the bottle down in the circle.  Do not let him touch you," Snape warned.  Spit nearly dropped the bottle, his hands were shaking so badly.  Lucius lunged downward and snatched the object, holding it greedily to his scabbed and wounded chest.

"A glass!  If you please!" he snarled at the house elf.  Spit retreated behind Snape, who scolded Lucius with silence.  "I am a Malfoy!  We do not drink from the container.  We are not savages, regardless!"

"Is there anything I should know about the house before I sell it?" Draco sputtered words.   Spit returned with a tall glass goblet, which he tipped carefully towards the lurking shape within the portal boundary. 

"Like if there's a hidden cache of jewels or such?" Lucius mocked Draco, pouring himself a brimming glass.  The wine glittered like blood and rubies in the goblet.  Lucius smelled it, pleasure warping his ruined features.  Tears welled in his eyes.  "If I could only tell you yes," he whispered to his son, savoring a sip of the precious liquid.  "I'm sorry for how your mother treated you," he echoed, taking another drink, a fuller mouthful which he let slid down his throat with languid ease.  "So very sorry."

"I know.  You said before," Draco replied. 

"Yes.  Yes.  In the Tower.  How are things going with no one for company but him?" Lucius wondered, hunching over and studying Potter's surprisingly-quiet features. 

"He's not all bad," Draco managed to say, surprised when the words tumbled from his mouth.  "He's not all good either," he added.  Lucius smiled at the last bit. 

"Glad to hear it.  And Miss Parkinson?  Have you reached an agreement with her parents?  I did my best for you, but they kept holding out, as you well know.  Marriage contracts can be such torture."

"Miss Parkinson?" Volkova asked Draco, lifting her brow at him. 

"No, I….haven't….Pansy….we….um….." Draco shook his head. 

"Yes?" Lucius waited, taking another sip of wine.  Harry started to cough, and wine bubbled out of his mouth, down his chin.  "Swallow, stupid brat, swallow.  How do you expect to be a good host if you can't do as you're told?" Lucius scolded him.    Harry took a pained, shuddering breath, and coughed out a laugh.

"Bastard," Harry breathed. 

"You haven't learned to swallow, after all this time?  Severus hasn't been very instructive in his training, has he?" Lucius forgot Draco for a second and leaned his face towards Potter's.  Harry's half-lidded eyes opened slightly wider, but remained unfocused.  A half grimace limped up the young man's face. 

"Coward," Potter whispered.   Lucius took a heavy gulp of wine, and Harry coughed it up, struggling to breath.   "No wonder Draco hates you so."

"I don't hate you," Draco whimpered.

"He has nightmares about you," Harry added, rasping.

"Father, I don't hate you.  Shut up!" Draco screamed at Harry. 

"I know what you are," Harry whispered to Lucius.  "I know what you are.  I know what you are.  I know what you are."

"What am I, Potter?" Lucius mocked back.  Harry laughed deep in his throat.

"Coward," Harry whispered, a shivering hiss in the back of his voice.

"That's enough, Harry," Severus murmured, giving Potter a tug on the arm by the hand that he held.  Lucius refilled his goblet with the precious wine, savoring the smell of it. 

"No, Severus, there is some truth to it.  I have failed Draco.  I was never a good parent.  I indulged him too much when he was obedient, and punished him too harshly when he didn't do as I pleased.  I didn't know what I was doing.  I didn't know how to do, what to do, when to do, why to do.  If I failed you in that regard, Draco, if I failed you, I am sorry."

"You didn't fail me," Draco replied, his face wet with tears.  "You did the best you could.  I know how hard you tried."

"Yes….yes…I….tried," Lucius nodded slowly.  "73 was a good year.  You saved a bottle or two, did you, Severus?"

"For a special occasion," Snape replied.

"Why did you bring me here?" Lucius asked, savoring another mouthful of wine.  Harry coughed and spit red liquid to the floor. 

"I didn't," Severus said.

"You then?" Lucius questioned of Brim and Burnie.  The Stoneburnes could barely stop staring at him.

"No," they gulped in unison.

"Draco, much as I love you, I know you couldn't do this on your own."

"No," Draco admitted.

"Potter, why have you summoned me?" Lucius asked.

"Channeled you, let you free.  Want you out of me.  Know when you're around.  I feel you," Harry whispered.  Lucius lumbered nearer still to Harry, dodging Snape's intense eyes and Volkova's malevolent growling.

"Missed me, did you?  Happy Anniversary," Lucius dripped the words in a hot whisper, drawing his slender forked tongue over his top lip and the edge of his mouth before giving a guttural moan.  Potter's serene look vanished, and his entire frame quivered.  He squeezed his eyes closed tight.  A ripple of uneasiness went through the portal, and Brim's arm started to shake.

"I'm losing my hold," she warned.  "Potter, hurry it up."

Burnie took his sister's hand to steady her, and surprisingly, she did not pull away.

Draco moved under Volkova's arm and stepped in front of Harry in order to take his father's spirit's attention off of Potter.  The move made him seem more than a little protective of Harry as well.  Lucius stiffened with anger and hate.  

"We have to say goodbye now, I think," Draco said, clearing his throat.

"Nonsense.  Potter is a powerful wizard.  He can hold me a while longer.  I speak from experience.  I know how difficult he is to exhaust," Lucius taunted. 

"I want you to know that I'm not mad at you any more.  I want you to be at peace," Draco continued.  His words were formal, and his tone felt final.  Lucius glowed angrily in response.

"Potter!" he hissed.  "Pull it together, you sniveling, pathetic wretch!" 

Pain stabbed through Harry's face, and the portal shuddered. 

"Harry," Brim warned.

Potter began to whimper softly in the back of his throat.

"Pathetic," Lucius muttered.

"Father, have you any last requests?" Draco asked.  Brim was beginning to cry.  Tears dripped down her cheeks.  These were not tears of sympathy for either Malfoy, that much was sure.  Burning pain radiating off of Harry was making her sag in place.  She went down onto her knees, and Burnie clutched her hand more urgently.

"Potter, we have to let go," Burnie begged.  Brim gazed at Harry for guidance, but Potter was nearly beyond reach.

"Father, is there anything I can do for you?" Draco asked.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"Finish the Dark Lord's work.  Complete my last task for him."

"I don't understand," Draco frowned.

"I want you to kill Harry Potter," Lucius smiled maliciously.

Draco's face went dark, and his eyes welled over.

"Is that all you can think about at a time like this?"

"You asked me what I wanted you to do."

"Father!" Draco shouted impatiently. 

"I want you to hurt Potter.  I want you to humiliate him.  I want you to leave him bleeding and crying, as I left him.  If you cannot do this for me, you leave me gravely disappointed in you," Lucius ended haughtily.  Draco gulped down his sobs and spit out a harsh snort of laughter. 

"You'll have to spend the rest of your time that way, because I honestly don't give a damn any more," Draco started talking and couldn't seem to stop.  "Here you are, with five precious stolen minutes of time to talk to me about what to do with the rest of my life, and I'm looking for your guidance.  I'm looking for you to tell me to learn from the errors of your ways, to learn from how you paid with your life for your stupid blind obedience to the son-of-a-bitch who sacrificed you to further his precious cause.  The worst of it is, you're willing to do the same thing with me.  I mean nothing to you!"

"Draco, you mean everything to me."

"You.  Mother.  Both of you.  All of you.  You're pathetic.  That's what you are.  You are pathetic!! Nothing more than empty vessels for someone else's hatred.  When I think of what you could have done, all that you could have accomplished, all the power that could have been yours to command."

"I had more power than you will ever wield," Lucius taunted his son, but Draco didn't take the bait.  He was long past caring.

"You wasted it.  You wasted yourself.  You wasted your life.  And you would waste me as well if I let you do it."

"Oh, bravo, love," Volkova murmured under her breath, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Lucius was momentarily taken aback, but not for too long.  He flicked his wine glass towards Draco's face and warped his twisted features into a jagged smile when the goblet shattered upon impact with the bridge of his son's nose.  Draco dodged down and back, blood gushing.  The circle of hands broke apart as Anna tugged Draco back out of harm's way.   Lucius cackled and rocked where he stood, at least until he straightened up and caught the look Harry was sending his direction.  Potter took a shivering breath and began to chant. 

"To the depths of hell I banish thee,  to the depths of hell I banish thee, to the- - -"

Burnie and Brim ripped apart and sideways, climbing out of the circle of grayish clouds as the portal began to collapse.  They were sprawled on the same bank of clouds and reaching for the edge.  Lucius teetered where he was at the opposite arc of the circle.  Draco whipped around, blood and tears smeared across his cheek and over his lips.  He opened a black vial and cast at the his father's feet.  As the potion splattered his feet, Lucius began to scream, and Draco screamed right back at him.

"To the depths of hell I banish thee," Harry continued to chant, the timbre of his voice echoing deeper and softer.

The chalk portal lifted up from the ground and the dust floated around.  Lucius finally lost his grip on the edge and tumbled downward into the swirling clouds which grew darker and darker.   When Lucius disappeared, Harry collapsed into an unmoving heap.  Although he was clutching his bleeding face in between bloodied fingers, Draco still managed to direct a particularly-venomous glare at Potter's incoherent form. 

Sparks screamed out in warning.   Harry had gone unconscious.  The sectional divan that Harry's magic had been holding on the ceiling began to tumble down in bits and pieces.  Everyone fled to the far edges of the room.  Severus yanked Harry up by his arms.   Brim and Burnie didn't have time to leap aside.  Instead, Burnie dived over the top of his sister.  Hermione yanked out her wand, providing a well-timed cushioning spell.  There was an amazing collision, and then a dread half second of silence before Burnie started laughing under the cushions and wrecked wood frames.

"Get off of me, you skinny mutt," Brim ordered in a muffled huff.

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