Harry moved away from the marbleized form on the floor. "Well, you know I broke out of your Petrificus on my own that time. Maybe since this was so harmless I broke out of it on my own without even meaning to. And... and besides aren't there still wards and such up?"
Draco paused as if to try and sense them. "Yes, but there would be. Temporary spells are just different from permanent charms and wards, Harry. And it's an awful coincidence that you'd break the spell the moment Lucius turns to stone." Draco hugged his robes more tightly around himself. "Maybe Severus will know for certain, but... I'd say he's, um, dead."
Harry's legs quivered alarmingly. To keep from falling over, he hurriedly sat down, but he was careful to avoid the chair he'd been trapped in for so long. Actually, he didn't trust any of the chairs, so he sat down on the floor, right next to the sleeping snake. He kept his hands out and ready, though, just in case the rug attacked him next.
Shaking his head didn't really help clear it. He just couldn't really believe it was all over, that Lucius could never hurt him again. It was too much to take in. "Um, maybe he's dead at the moment, but it's like uh... suspended animation, maybe. You think?"
Draco looked at Harry as if he was barmy. "What?"
"I mean I could probably undo it," Harry answered in a rush. "Not that I want to, all right? But look, you didn't see what happened with Nott. It was pretty bad but when I ended the spell he was good as new."
"Harry," Draco drawled, "Nott was never dead." Draco paused to pluck at the fabric of his robe like it was uncomfortable against his skin. "I suppose now you're going to tell me that you're powerful enough to resurrect people?" he added, his glare challenging Harry to make that claim.
Gibby's voice, high-pitched and keening, broke the silence. "M- M- Master Draco? What should Gibby be doing now? Should Gibby be returning to the manor? Should Gibby be informing the other elves? Should--"
"Gibby should go throw his worthless self into the snake pit," announced Draco in a voice that was arctic, it was so cold. "And Gibby? Do be sure to key the Mordesco spell to inflict bites only on you from now on."
"Draco--"
"Shut up, Harry. I know what I'm doing."
"No, wait," Harry insisted. "Gibby, did Lucius have something on hand for snake bites? You know, a real antidote, not just a purging potion?"
Gibby just wrung his hands and looked mournfully at Draco, as if afraid to give any reply at all.
Draco glared down at the elf. "Well, Bibby? Answer him, you little green shite!"
"Master Lucius was keeping more potion that would be fixing snake bites better--"
"And you were planning on telling me this precisely when?" drawled Draco in a voice that gave Harry chills from head to toe.
The house elf threw himself to the floor and began banging his head on its polished surface as it squealed in a high voice, "Forgive." Thud. "Me." Thud. "Master." Thud. "Draco."
"Quit wasting my time and bring it to me! And while you're at it, get me the crËme curatif!"
A tall bottle and squatty jar appeared on a nearby side table with a small pop. As Draco began to examine them, Harry retrieved his shirt and put it on while addressing Gibby, who had gone back to thudding his head against the floor. Draco either hadn't noticed that, or didn't care.
Probably the latter, Harry decided.
"Gibby, stop punishing yourself and answer these questions, they're important. Is there anyone else in this house with us right now -- elves or wizards or anyone? Are there any owls here? And, were you given instructions to make preparations for any guests aside from Draco and me? Or for any meetings to be held here?"
Gibby ignored Harry.
Thud, thud, thud...
"Tell us!" growled Draco. "Tell us everything, or I'll do a lot worse than throw you to the snakes!"
Gibby remained crouched on all fours on the floor but stopped bashing his head as he looked up. "Harry Potter and Master Draco and... that," his glance flicked toward the marble form of Lucius Malfoy, "is the only wizards here. No elves but Gibby. No owls, but there is 127 snakes in the pit..." Gibby looked over to Draco nervously. "Should Gibby be preparing for company? Master Lucius, he only was telling Gibby to look after Master Draco--"
"Look after?" Draco spat. "Ha, very funny, Wibby! What are you still doing here, eh? I thought I told you to throw yourself in the snake pit! Well? Get going!"
Gibby Disapparated with a pop. One look at Draco, and Harry didn't bother to argue about it, though he couldn't help but clear his throat sort of loudly. Funny, that really hurt. He hadn't screamed that much in Parseltongue. Which reminded him...
"Um, what are we going to do with... uh, him?"
Draco's eyes glittered, hard silver without remorse. "Personally, I'd like to take a hammer and chisel to him and knock out his eyes. But I suppose that would occasion a long lecture from Severus. Revenge is bad for the soul. Like I give a flying fuck--"
"Severus," Harry interrupted. That was what mattered. "How are we going to get him here? Floo?"
"Oh, please! If this place was on the network don't you think I'd have tossed in some powder by now?"
"No owl either," added Harry, thinking. "We could walk until we reached a Floo, I guess. Not that I know where we are or where to look."
"We're in France like I said. At Lucius' summer house. Harry, the nearest Floo is at least a hundred miles away and since Lucius would just Apparate everywhere, he didn't keep any brooms here."
"All right, then I guess you'd better Apparate us both back to Hogwarts and--"
"Did I ever claim I could do side-along?"
"Then just go alone," said Harry impatiently. "Get Severus!"
"Yeah, well you might be used to the idea that sixteen-year-old wizards can do any damned thing, Harry," snapped Draco, "since you apparently can, but I can't make it that far, all right? I'll end up splinched in the English Channel! And besides, I'm not mental enough to leave you here all alone with that."
Draco suddenly picked up a vase and chucked it at the still, stone-like form of Lucius Malfoy. The statue didn't react in the slightest.
Harry waited until Draco's breathing slowed down. "I think I can manage to guard him," he said then, lifting his wand a little. He didn't want to brag, really; it was just the truth.
"Yeah, well we still don't know whether Lucius told anyone that he was bringing us here," muttered Draco. "Though that seems unlikely. He couldn't have known I was going to drop by Defence like that. Still... Oh, hell. I guess with the Dark Lord roaming France these days it would be stupider to leave the wards than stay. So we need to get Severus here. Hmm."
Draco lowered himself into a richly upholstered chaise lounge, the jar of ointment in his hands. "All right, I've got it. It really used to irritate me, but now I suppose it's just as well you do such an impressive Patronus. So, you send Severus a silver message and--"
"I did," said Harry, a little sourly. "When I heard you in the classroom with Lucius. And he never came! I don't know if my message got lost, or what."
"It's a ten minute walk from Defence to Potions," said Draco with a pointed stare. "Just how fast do you think your stag runs? You aren't Merlin himself, Harry!"
"Yeah, well still," said Harry.
Then he looked at Draco, who just snorted and rolled his eyes in exasperation. Harry couldn't help but smile a bit, though he wasn't sure what was funny. Or maybe nothing was. But he felt so relieved that Lucius was no longer a threat, and if their worst problem was finding a way to get in touch with their father... well, that wasn't so bad.