'Well,' said Slytherin, breaking the stunned silence with a hiss of barely-concealed delight, 'Who would have thought that Godrics blade would be made of such shoddy stuff? I told him those cheap Gypsy tinkers were no good, but would he listen? And now look.' He voice had reached a pitch of amusement that grated on Dracos nerves like needle sawing across violin strings. 'Kill him, Draco,' the Snake Lord added, waving an imperious arm.
Draco looked at Harry. Harry looked back. His hair was pasted to his forehead in sweaty black question marks. He didn?t look the least bit worried. In fact, he looked as if he were trying not to laugh.
Damn that shoddy Gypsy workmanship.
Draco felt his hands shaking. Adrenaline was still surging through him in explosive bursts. Oh shut up, Potter.
If only this thing came with a warranty.
I MEAN it, shut up.
'Hes unarmed,' said Draco, pitching his voice louder so that Slytherin could hear him.
'Yes, and doesn?t that make it much easier to kill him?' Slytherin pointed out. 'Consider it a shortcut.'
'Its dishonorable,' said Draco shortly. 'That was the whole point of this.'
'He fought you. His weapon was inferior. It was a fair fight. The fight is over. Kill him.'
Draco shook his head. 'Get him another sword.'
'There is no other sword that can stand against a living blade,' snapped Slytherin, sounding impatient.
'Then we could duel another way. Get me another sword. Whatever you have to do to make this a fair fight.'
'We could wrestle,' said Harry, looking innocent.
Draco fought the urge to kick him in the ankle. 'I wasn?t taught to take advantage of an unarmed opponent-'
'You were taught to do as you should!' shouted Slytherin, losing his temper at last. 'Do you expect me to think that your father taught you to show mercy to your enemies? The Malfoy family has not lasted a thousand years on that philosophy!'
Dracos face twisted into a snarl. 'I won?t do it,' he said, jaw set, eyes intractable. 'I am not a coward. Maybe you had to kill Godric by sneaking up on him. But I am not like you.'
'You,' said Slytherin, his eyes on Draco, full of light and hate. 'You are exactly like me, and your duty is to me, and to the line which made you what you are.'
'Who are you to think you know what I am?' said Draco, in a voice as sharp as crystal, and as transparent. Scorn was in it, and rage, and fear, and a little of the wild delight of rebellion.
'You defy me?' Slytherins eyes scraped over Draco like knives.
'This should be impossible,' he said, clearly and a little feverishly.
'The enchantments on you are what they are, perfect. I can only conclude that it is you who are defective.'
I?ve been telling you that for years. It was Harrys voice in his head, amused and detached and gentle, and it didn?t really matter what he said, just that he said something. The sound of his voice was like sanity, an anchor to reality. Draco looked at him and saw that Harry had let go his broken sword and was looking at him, his eyes dark and brilliant green, and over Harrys shoulder he could see Slytherin watching them both.
'You don?t know what I am,' Draco said again, his voice soft with menace. 'I don?t even know what I am. But I do know what I?m not.
I?m not your Heir.' As the Snake Lord, his face white as bleached bone, took a step towards him, and another, Draco raised the sword, pointing the tip of the blade towards Slytherin, his feet balanced lightly, as his father had taught him. 'I?m not your general. I?m not anything belonging to you,' he said, and felt something inside him lighten, a weight lifting at last.
He was barely aware of Harry watching him, was barely even aware of what he was saying, knew that he couldn?t kill Slytherin, not even with his enchanted sword, but in that moment felt perfectly happy to die trying. He gripped the sword tighter as Slytherin took another step in his direction, and another, and then a last, sideways step, and Draco realized in a split and blinding and horrible second that Slytherin wasn?t walking towards him at all.
And froze, as he realized — but by that moment it was already too late, for, having taken several swift steps forward, Slytherin seized Harry firmly by the back of his shirt and thrust him forward as hard as he could onto the outstretched blade of Dracos sword.
And Draco knew what it was like, suddenly and dreadfully and unforgettably, to kill another human being with a Living Blade.
The blade sliced straight through Harrys body. Draco saw Harrys eyes fly wide open and look straight into his own before he staggered back, yanking the blade free, too late. It slid noiselessly out of Harry's body, red to the hilt.
Draco stood where he was, holding the sword, too appalled to move.
And opposite him stood Slytherin, his pale hands lightly dappled with blood, holding Harry close, almost as if he were appalled by what he had done.
1) 'And behold my success.' Buffy.
2) 'Think how much worse it would be if life was fair, and all the awful things that happened to us happened because we actually deserve them. I for one take great comfort in the completely impersonal hostility of the universe.' Babylon Five.
3) 'It does in the eyes of everyone with eyes.' — Red Dwarf.
4) I will do such things, I know not what but they will be the terrors of the earth.' King Lear.
