"That Parselmouth's to blame," spat Aran. "You were right, Mr. Malfoy. I've seen it myself. Draco was a fine student before. But after spending months downstairs surrounded by Dark Wizards--"
"They aren't Dark Wizards!" yelled Draco. "He is! Are you so stupid that you can't see that?"
Lucius chuckled. "Now, now, Draco, you simply must be more respectful. Professor Aran, I do apologise. Draco always did have a lamentable tendency to be less than polite to his Defence instructors."
Harry started. That was certainly something Remus would say. Maybe it wasn't Lucius in there, after all.
"That may be, but being around a Parselmouth so much has taken a toll," announced Aran. "Draco's come back to my class as rude and arrogant a student as ever I met, except one. Even wore a protective charm to my class, as if Potter's got him convinced that I'd try to hurt him!"
"My son needs a few lessons in proper deportment," said Lucius, sounding like he was tapping his cane against the floor. "And he'll get them, make no mistake."
Hearing that, Harry could only imagine how vulnerable Draco must be feeling. Without so much as a wand! His uneasiness returned. Why would Remus have taken Draco's wand like that? Remus didn't enjoy terrifying people!
Draco clearly was terrified, too. So much so that he chose that moment to cut and run. Harry heard the doorknob being jiggled frantically, heard someone shoving and pounding on the door, but the sticking charm held tight.
Lucius would know a good sticking charm, Harry thought with horror. That was where Draco had learned his from.
Harry's blood ran cold, because in that instant he knew the truth. There was no way that was Remus inside that room.
"Let me out!" Draco was panting, the words sounding completely unhinged.
Horrified, Harry did what he should have done thirty seconds earlier. Whipping out his wand, he hissed in Parseltongue, "I confidently expect a saviour!" while thinking fixedly of his father standing in his classroom, peering into cauldrons.
His Patronus form, a ghostly stag, leapt forth from his fingers--not his wand--and galloped down the empty corridor, heading towards the dungeons.
"You are my son," Harry heard Lucius quietly saying, his voice also against the door now. Harry shivered. He couldn't leave Draco, so he stood there, stock still, staring at the planks of wood separating him from the man who'd sat atop him and taken such delight in stabbing his eyes to shreds. "I've seen the official record of your adoption, Draco. I know what you did. Exactly what you did. And I must say, it was a half-measure, at best."
"I... that was..." Draco's voice sounded strangled. "I couldn't give it up."
"Oh, of course you couldn't, my Dragon." Lucius' voice was so loving! Or rather, Harry thought it must sound that way to someone like Aran. To Harry it was the stuff of nightmares. To Draco too, he knew. "This year has been... difficult, but the breach between us isn't irreparable. You're still a Malfoy. Aren't you, now?"
Harry knew what Draco was going to say.... but Draco didn't say it.
Instead, his answer made Harry's heart drop.
In a low, low, voice, Draco said, "Yes, Father."
No! Harry wanted to cry out. Don't let him frighten you into saying that, Draco! Stand up for yourself the way you told me to! Severus will be here soon!
But Draco, of course, would think he was being Slytherin to play along, Harry knew. He just hoped Draco realised what a dangerous game that was. But who better than Draco to know that? He'd grown up watching Lucius manipulate people.
"Yes, I knew you were still a Malfoy," oozed Lucius. "And I thought you would want this back, in that case."
Silence. And then Draco's voice again, this time surprised. "You'd give me back my wand?"
"Oh, yes. But I have enjoyed holding it for you, Draco, until we could talk. This wand is protected by quite a lovely lineage spell. Your own work, I think?"
Draco didn't answer, but Harry thought he must have nodded.
"Advanced magic, very worthy of a Malfoy. Severus likely didn't approve?"
"No, he didn't." Draco cleared his throat, the sound so loud that it made Harry jump back a little. "Father, would you let me go now? My next class starts in scarce five minutes."
"You'll need your wand," said Lucius. "Here, Draco. Take it."
For a moment, Harry heard nothing but the pounding of his own heart. And then...
"I need the other one."
"You may have it as well," said Lucius, his voice rich with promise. "But first, take this and tell me you don't miss it, Draco. This is the one you've used since you were a child. This is the one that sings with your magic--"
No, Draco! thought Harry. Those instincts that Snape had praised were screaming inside him. He just knew there was something wrong with that wand. And Draco was going to take it, he knew that too. Even though the wand was now useless to him, since the lineage potion meant it could only be used by wizards named Malfoy, Draco would still want it.
After all, he hadn't ever wanted to give it up.
There wasn't time to worry about what Severus was going to say about Harry's saving-people thing. There wasn't time for anything except an Alohamora. A wanded one, so he could be sure it overcame whatever sticking charm was holding the door closed.
"Get out of my way!" Harry hissed at the door.
And it did, flying open on its hinges so violently that it the wood cracked when it collided with the stone wall that stopped its swing.
And then Harry was looking straight at Draco, who had his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
The other boy's mouth dropped open in horror. "Get away!" he screamed, just before he yanked his hands out and reached for the wand Lucius was offering.
The minute he touched it, an awful sound filled the whole room. Whooshing, sucking... the noise of a young man being borne away against his will.
The noise of a Portkey.
"No!" screamed Harry, stumbling forward, his hands out as though to grab hold of Draco. It was too late, though. Draco was gone, and Harry was left staring into the cold, grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy.
"Well, well, would you look at that. The Parselmouth himself."
Fear washed over Harry, his eyes stinging with the memory of what this man had done to him. Behind all that, though, another sensation was building inside him.
His hands began to burn, his bones blazing hot with anger, the pain of it spilling out into his flesh. He was still holding his wand, but he didn't need it, not for this. This was raw energy, and he would hurl it straight from his soul.
Lucius must have sensed that something was wrong. That this Harry, perhaps, wasn't the helpless boy he'd tortured all those months ago. "Crucio!" he yelled, and Harry saw the spell sizzling towards him.
His anger lashed out to meet it. No words, just pure power, launching itself like a caninae at the source of Malfoy's spell. The Cruciatus vanished like so much mist under the force of Harry's magic, but Harry's powers kept streaming out, gold and burgundy lightning bolts that lit the whole room up.
Lucius made an awful noise as the silver snake handle of his wand abruptly melted and the wand itself began to smoke.
"Why, you--!"
Malfoy didn't say anything else, though. He couldn't. Harry's rage had reached a new peak by then, and the energy pouring from his hands was surrounding Lucius and making him twist and writhe. And scream. His wand, a charred useless stick, had long since clattered to the floor.