"Ah, still here," drawled Lucius as he came into Harry's line of sight again. He was wearing different clothes and robes now, and smelled of sea breezes. Just like Draco after he'd freshened himself with a charm.
Harry couldn't help but remember what Severus had said, about Draco being more like Lucius than any of them probably knew.
"Gibby, go watch Master Draco," instructed Lucius, before turning his attention to Harry. "I do fear you're overdressed, though," said the man in his smooth, condescending drawl. "The work on your eyes is so stunning that I simply must see how well Severus healed the rest of you. We'll start with your chest and work our way down. You don't mind, do you, Harry? After all, considering the... entertainments I have planned, clothes can only be a hindrance."
He held Harry's wand up before his eyes.
"Such a pity you dropped it, but then again, after the dear professor dealt you that blow, it was rather inevitable that I would take it from you. I shall present this to the Dark Lord as I intended to do all those months ago." Lucius' smile looked dangerous, now. "But first, there's another matter in need of attention. I've no intention of your taking my Lord by surprise once again. So, before I call to him, I think I shall have to find out just what you can and cannot do, eh? Especially considering...."
Another smile, this one both cold and inquisitive. "Rumour has it that your magic is oddly weak, these days, Harry... And yet you cast such an awful spell on me. It really is quite the mystery. But I intend to unravel it."
Lucius took two steps back, then waved Harry's own wand at him, his voice low and determined. "Imperio!"
Harry felt the familiar wash of the curse sliding over the surface of his brain, the sensation so more disorienting than it had ever been, before. Was that because he was under Petrificus? Or did it have to do with all that wild magic from before draining him? Or the long Disapparation?
All Harry knew was that the hum of Lucius' voice, inside his mind this time, was like a brightly glowing beacon inside the fog of his thoughts. And pleasant sounding, so very pleasant.
"When I release the binding spell, you won't attack me, Harry. You will disrobe, instead," the voice said, the sound of it worming its way into every crevice of his brain.
No, thought Harry, trying to Occlude. That should help, right? He still had enough of his own mind left to realise that much. To realise that Lucius merely wanted to shame him, so he'd be all the more likely to break under the tortures sure to come... No, no, I won't--
But the voice inside his mind just kept on, insidious, telling him what to do, making him want to do it. So focussed was he on his desire to obey, he barely took note of the actual spoken words that suddenly set him free from the Petrificus.
"Finite Incantatem," said Lucius, waving Harry's wand.
The voice inside was more important. "Disrobe, Harry. Start with your cloak. That's it... raise your hand to the clasp. Yes, like that. You're doing very well, Harry..."
It seemed so natural to just do it. Whatever he was told. Whatever that lyrical voice wanted...
But wait... his cloak? Wasn't there something special about his cloak? Something he really should be able to remember if he tried hard enough?
Something flickered, deep down at the base of his brain. A small flame. Nothing to it, really. It was barely an ember. But when Harry focussed on it, he remembered.
His cloak. His crest. If he could only get a good look at his crest, he'd get stronger, wouldn't he? He'd be able to reach down into his magic and throw off this spell that was so smothering he could hardly breathe...
Fighting the Imperius was like trying to swim through a vat of treacle. Harry's limbs were sluggish, slow to catch up to what he really wanted from them. His cloak was dangling from his hand now; he hardly remembered unclasping it.
Drop the cloak, Harry, Lucius was saying. Move your hands now, to the buttons on your shirt--
Drop the cloak? Harry longed to do it, but he knew he mustn't. Why not, though? Harry struggled to remember. The... oh, the crest. He needed to see his crest--
Ouch... it really hurt to turn his wrist towards him. The fog inside his head told him why. Fighting what Lucius wanted was a bad idea... no, no, the bad idea was doing what Lucius was demanded.
Harry jerked his head down, trying to see his crest. When the folds in his cloak were hiding it, he began shaking his hand to make them go away. There it was, snake and lion standing side by side. Harry stared at it as he struggled to fight the Imperius. He could feel the magic inside him now. Coiled, poised to strike.
He was opening his mouth, the leading edge of a hiss rushing past his teeth when suddenly, the garment was ripped from his grasp.
Harry's view of the crest vanished as Lucius Malfoy raised the cloak up, holding it bundled in his hands.
"So you can resist Imperius, eh? Feebly, but still... And you want something here? I wonder what could that be."
Harry struggled to step forward, to claim the cloak back. The longer he fought the Imperius the easier it became, as if despite this terrible exhaustion, his mind and body were remembering who he really was. He knew how to do this, he did...
"This crest, perhaps?" snarled Lucius, poking a long finger into the mass of black fabric. Lucius made a scoffing noise. "Oh, yes, I know all about the provision in the Hogwarts' charter, but that's not why you wear this crest, is it? Theodore mentioned you could only cast magic in Parseltongue these days. Was that hissing I heard as you stared at this? Could it be you need to see a snake, Harry? Well, well, well."
For a long moment, Lucius just stared at him, a cruel smile hovering on his lips. And then, his teeth glinted. "Incendio insignia."
Harry longed to scream as his crest went up into flames right before his eyes. Smoke wafted all around him. Lucius didn't drop the robe until the flames were nearly at his hands. By that time, the crest was long since reduced to ashes.
His snake was gone, Harry thought dully. Some part of him wanted to curl up and just give in to the Imperius. What did it matter now, anyway?
The greater part of him, though, knew better than to listen to thoughts like that.
He struggled the rest of the way and finally managed to throw the mind-control spell off completely. The effort of that was enough to make him want to curl up again. He didn't think he'd ever felt this tired. But then again, he'd never had to fight Imperius just after he'd already drained himself by using wild magic, or dark powers, or whatever it had been.
He stood stock still, trying to get his breath. Not mention his bearings.
And all the while, he could still hear and feel Lucius inside his head, trying to control him. "Come now, Harry. Your little defiance has got you nothing. Now it's time to do as you were told. DISROBE. My guests will expect a good show..."
Harry clenched his muscles, readying himself to lunge at Lucius, when all at once, he remembered the things his father had said about the advantages of surprise.
Better to make Lucius think he'd won.
After all, it wasn't as though Harry had much chance of besting Lucius at the moment. He had to concentrate on calling up wild magic again... though he didn't know if he could produce another blast so soon after the first, or at will, for that matter. He didn't know how to summon it, not consciously.