Chapter 91: True Colours
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=5036&chapter=91
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A Year Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
and Mercredi
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Chapter Ninety-One: True Colours
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Harry spun out of the flames and into a large room almost as grand as the Great Hall.
He had no more than a moment to stare unblinking at it, though. A sick wash of feeling began to fill him from the outside in, the sensation one he recognised. One he was even used to, after all the times he'd Apparated with his father. He'd never done it while under Petrificus, though. That made a big difference. It seemed to take forever. Harry couldn't tell if that was just his senses fooling him, or if Lucius was doing it on purpose.
Or maybe it was just more difficult to side-along with someone who was already under a powerful spell.
The room dissolved around him and through him, and stayed that way for long moments, until Harry's head felt muzzy and he could barely think. He wanted to sick up but it wasn't possible under Petrificus. His stomach wasn't even churning, not truly. It just wanted to. Somehow, that was worse.
Finally, the world came back into focus and Harry emerged into a smaller room, though it was just as lavish in its own way. Dark woods everywhere, and the glint of crystal. That was actually so disorienting that Harry nearly toppled over. Lucius' hand steadied him.
Harry would rather have fallen than endure that touch.
But he was going to have to endure it, wasn't he? As long as he was held bound like this, he didn't have much choice. And unlike on Samhain, this time Harry had no seer dreams to guide him, to tell him that no matter what happened, he'd come out on the other side alive.
Harry would have clenched his jaw, if he could. Resolution seemed to fill his lungs. He might not have a promise given in a seer dreams, but he did have other things to get him through this. Things Lucius didn't know about.
Couldn't know about... unless Nott had told him.
Harry felt his stomach sink right down to his toes.
But then he gave a mental shake of his head. Nott didn't know it all. Oh, sure, by the end he'd seen Harry's dark powers firsthand, but that had all been obliviated, right along with his knowledge about Harry needing a snake in order to be able to cast magic. And he never had learned that Harry could do wandless magic.
And really, there was no reason to think that Nott had told Lucius about Harry needing a snake. He might not have had a chance. And even if he had, didn't Slytherins like to use information strategically? Harry could easily imagine Nott holding out on Lucius until some later time, so he could sell the information to Lucius even if he couldn't sell Harry himself.
At any rate, the snake thing... that couldn't have been why Lucius had destroyed his glasses. The little snake wasn't visible except on the inside. Nobody except his family and the headmaster knew it was there.
Well, his glasses might have been destroyed, but that didn't mean Harry was helpless. All he needed was one good look down at his crest. Harry kept straining, trying to see it, but it was impossible as long as he was held under Petrificus, his chin parallel to his feet.
That would end, though. Sooner or later. If Harry was sure of anything, it was that Lucius wouldn't torture him while he the magic held him in this rigid position.
He'd want to see Harry scream and writhe.
Like before.
Oh God, the needles. All at once, Harry felt like he'd eaten five pounds of rocks for lunch. Rocks that had half-turned to thick, sluggish acid. He couldn't even imagine how Draco must be feeling, trapped in a pit full of snakes crawling all over each other. And him.
Harry tried his best to wing him a thought, though he had no reason in the world to suppose it would work. But at least it was something. He had to do something!
Stay strong, Draco, he thought, propelling the words as forcefully as he could. You're stronger than you know. And braver, too. And we'll get out this somehow. I promise!
Harry couldn't help but remember, though, something Draco had said to him. I'm not strong like you, Harry. I'd break under torture...
No, no you won't, Harry thought fiercely, again trying to send the conviction out to where Draco could hear or feel it. You won't break. You won't. You can't. I need you to stay strong...
Lucius suddenly clapped his hands, a single imperious blast of noise that Harry could feel vibrate straight through him. "Gibby," the man said to the trembling elf who appeared before the sound could die away. "This is Harry Potter."
The elf's eyes went wide and accusing. "The Harry Potter? That was giving clothes to poor deluded Dobby and casting him forever and ever into shame?"
"Don't interrupt me!" roared Lucius, swiftly kicking the creature in the stomach. The blow sent Gibby hurtling back several feet. The elf pounded its own head on the floor before crawling back to Lucius and looking up with sorrow-filled eyes.
"I know how you house-elves love your gossip," said Lucius in a tone only marginally calmer. "So I'm sure you know how... vicious, this particular young man can be. Samhain, yes? Now, you're to look over his magic and tell me what you can divine."
Uh-oh. Elves had strange powers, Harry knew.
He felt a coldness seep all through him, like he was being dunked in icy water. That sharp biting pain of being too cold--
And then it was gone.
"Harry Potter is having strange magic inside him, Master."
"I know that much, you fool!" snapped Lucius, raising his hand. He didn't strike, though. Maybe Gibby cowering back was enough to satisfy him. "Find out why, or how, or what!"
Again Gibby probed, his spindly elf hands held out this time as he sent the horrible cold washing through Harry. "G- G- Gibby cannot be finding out," the elf finally whispered in defeat, head bowed as his arms dropped to his sides.
"You're utterly useless! Can you at least tell if the Petrificus is firmly anchored?"
"Oh, yes, Master," said Gibby, big eyes earnest. "Yes, he is being bound tight, yes. Harry Potter, he is going nowhere--"
Lucius interrupted with a wave for Gibby to fall silent. "You're to watch him for a moment, then. Summon me at once if anything... unusual should happen."
"Yes, Master, yes," panted Gibby, ears flapping with the force of a vigorous nod. "Yes, as Master is wishing, yes, anything."
Lucius made a noise of vicious satisfaction and strode toward the door, leaving Harry's range of sight. His footsteps stopped, though, and his voice echoed again in the over-decorated room. "How fares Master Draco?"
"Ooh, the snakes is biting him something awful--"
"You did summon his wand away from him, I trust?"
"Oh yes, Gibby is always doing just as Master Lucius is wanting, yes, yes, yes." The elf started bowing, over and over, bobbing up and down like Lucius Malfoy was some sort of eastern king. "Gibby was banishing Master Draco's wand to Master Lucius' bedroom right away, yes, yes."
After that, there was nothing but silence. Harry didn't know if Lucius had left the room or not, but Gibby did seem to relax a bit. Not that it helped Harry any. He couldn't talk to the elf to try to enlist his help. And even if he could, Gibby didn't seem to be like Dobby, wanting freedom.
He concentrated on imagining his crest again, struggling to see it perfectly inside his mind's eye so that he could focus on the snake and break free from the spell that held him captive. Bugger all, he could imagine a snake! He'd always been able to do that. But it didn't help! As long as the snake was only a mental image, his powers refused to latch onto it and break free!