"He's so much your brother you were ready to give him up," scorned Lucius, "until it occurred to you to bargain for more than a cessation of pain!" Lucius' tones grew smooth as butter, then. "If you won't do as I ask, I won't be able to trust you. I'll have to take you to the meeting, after all. And you are quite right about the Dark Lord's temper. Tell me, Draco... is there really any sense in both of you dying?"
Don't listen to him, Draco! Harry shouted, but the silencing wards around him swallowed the words.
"No. No sense us both dying." Draco's glance at Harry said that he was sorry, but not sorry enough to change course. "So, who's to be our bonder? I don't think an elf can do it."
"The familial form of the Vow, Draco," said Lucius in a chiding tone. "How much you've forgotten. You must watch your acquaintances from now on, as the wrong sort will make you less a wizard. Come now, kneel with me."
Harry watched helplessly as Lucius sank to his knees on the rug. For one moment, he hoped against hope that Draco was just bluffing somehow. This could all just be a ruse. Draco's true intention could be to grab something hard and heavy, and smash his father over the head with it.
But Draco knelt as well and bowed his head, looking down at the hand Lucius was holding out. After a moment of what seemed indecision, he sighed and extended his own, laying it at a slant across the other man's wrist.
Using Harry's wand, Lucius tapped their joined wrists three times in succession, murmuring something all the while, then looked up at Draco in clear expectation.
The boy shuddered, but began to speak, all the same. "Are you blood of my blood?"
"I am."
"Then I will answer your questions about Harry Potter during the next ten minutes, and I will--"
"Truthfully," said Lucius in a dangerous voice. "Amend your vow."
Draco made a slight face. "Then I will truthfully answer your questions about Harry Potter during the next ten minutes. And I will cast an attack spell against him. May I keep this vow, or die."
Lucius nodded as though satisfied. "And you, are you blood of my blood?" he asked.
"I am."
"Then I will never bring you before the Dark Lord, or cause him to seek after you. May I keep this vow, or die."
Lucius and Draco looked up then, together, and incanted the final part of the vow together. "This, we so swear."
A fiery cord appeared to bind their hands together for a moment, before flashing out of existence.
"Now," said Lucius as he pushed to his feet, his hand reaching out to help Draco as well, "tell me about his wild magic."
Harry wanted to shout at Draco not to, but of course he couldn't, and not just because he'd been silenced. The Unbreakable Vow... Draco would die if he didn't talk.
Harry blinked back tears. Oh, Draco, he thought, his heart breaking apart inside him. Don't you see? He only promised not to take you to Voldemort. He didn't say anything about not killing you, himself. And the minute you've told him what he needs to know, the minute he's made you hurt me, his cruel game will come to an end and you'll find yourself at the end of a blast of green light---
Draco nodded as he began to speak. "Potter lies. It wasn't the needles that sparked his wild magic. Not your needles, at least. It was Muggle medicine. Bone marrow. They removed some of his, and gave him healing potions that burned his magical core out--"
Horrified, Harry yanked himself so sharply in the chair that he made it jump up and crash back down. Angry at that, the chair squeezed him even harder.
Draco didn't appear to so much as notice Harry's desperation. Or Harry himself. Perhaps taking that vow had distanced him, and he no longer cared what he had to do to fulfil it. "The healers said that Potter had no magic left, but then you saw what he did on Samhain. Dark powers, we figured that out, but he couldn't call on them when he wanted. He doesn't have any light magic, Father. But he learned, finally, that if he cast in Parseltongue he could reach his dark powers. But for that, he needs to see a snake."
Harry shoved again at the wooden arms holding him in the chair. Where the hell were his dark powers?
"No light magic at all? Interesting... Another question, Draco. When Potter caught sight of his crest, he started hissing. Yet he didn't have a wand in hand. Do snakes do his bidding, is that it? The way Nagini bends to the Dark Lord's will? But Potter can affect even a drawing?"
Draco swallowed, hesitating. Fighting the vow, after all? But in the end it seemed more powerful than his will. "No, that's not it, Father. He was trying to cast magic against you. You see, he doesn't need a wand any longer. All he needs is a snake. You'd best not let him see one. The second he does, he's dangerous. Wand or no."
Once he'd said it, Draco bit his lip and looked away, a guilty flush coming up under his skin. He began lightly rubbing his hands against the velvet cloak as if they were sweaty. Harry noticed that Draco's hands were covered in bites, the normally graceful fingers red and swollen.
"You've done well, Draco," said Lucius, nodding, his voice warm. "I think we ought to put an end to his magic by denying him his sight, once and for all. Don't you agree? There'll be nothing left to heal, not that Severus will have any opportunity to try... Gibby! Fetch me a silver spoon!"
When it appeared in Lucius' outstretched hand, Draco shivered.
"Do it," said Lucius, holding it out. "Gouge out his eyes."
Draco visibly squirmed, and made no move to step forward and take the spoon. "That wasn't part of the vow."
"No, but I never said that I wouldn't hex you again for disobeying me, now did I?" His voice hardened. "Take the spoon, Draco."
"I've always been squeamish, Father--"
Lucius laughed, the sound very slight. "And you think you'll be able to dredge up enough will to cast Cruciatus? If you can't even do this, you'll die of broken vow!"
Draco drew in a deep breath. "I... I know you're right, b- b- but--"
"You're lucky I'm letting you work up to it!" roared Lucius. "Do it, Draco! Or everything you just told me will have been for nothing, do you understand? You will die!"
"Y- yes, Father." Draco walked to Lucius then, his steps shaky. He started babbling again, as though convincing himself. "I know I have to. Cruciatus and all, just like you said. And he'll be dead tonight anyway, so what does it matter..." Spoon in hand, Draco turned towards Harry. "H- h- hold still, Potter... that chair'll just h- hurt you more if you struggle..."
"Draco," breathed Harry, appalled on so many levels he thought he'd faint from it. From somewhere, he dimly registered that Lucius must have lifted the silencing spell. The better to hear his screams, no doubt. "No, Draco. Fight him, for God's sake! It's not like you're under Imperius! You don't have to do a horrible thing like this--"
Instead of answering, Draco brought a hand up to rest atop Harry's skull, his swollen fingers weakly struggling to hold the other boy's head in place. His other hand awkwardly gripped the spoon. Draco's face twisted into a grimace as if the task literally pained him. Still, he placed the spoon up at the base of Harry's left eyeball and began to shove.
Harry thrashed and tried to throw the other boy off.
"Enough!" barked Lucius.
Draco kept the spoon in place, though he eased off the pressure as he looked over his shoulder. "Father?"
"I can't tell you how pleased I am," said Lucius, looking almost warm with affection. "Very gratifying indeed. However, we'd best not damage his eyes. For now, at least. The Dark Lord may want to... experiment with his dark powers. Not to mention, read his thoughts right down to the bottom of his soul. Hmm, but neither can we let him keep his sight, considering the Dark Lord may well bring Nagini when he comes..."