He was standing by the door with the sword of Gryffindor held awkwardly across his chest. Voldemort's blood had dried on the blade. As he shifted his grip on the hilt Harry could see the dark scars along the insides of his wrists.
'I don't know,' Harry said.
'Would you like me to come in with you?' Ron said.
Harry hesitated, looking at Ron. Surely he could not want to come, but he was offering, and the offer was a sincere one. Harry felt a sudden, sharp rush of the old affection for Ron, that awkward but tenacious affection that had once been the strongest he'd ever known. Before Hermione, before Sirius. Before Draco. 'Yes,' he said.
They went in together, Ron closing the door behind him and leaning against it with the sword at his side. It was a small room, the only light trickling from a high, blue-glassed window that illuminated the room with an eerie glow. Lucius sat on the floor, his back against the wall, hands clasped in front of him. He got to his feet as Harry approached him, a look of sneering rage on his haggard face. 'Where is my son?' he demanded.
'Where is Draco?'
'The antidote,' Harry said harshly. 'That first. Then I'll tell you about Draco. Maybe even let you see him — if he wants to see you.'
Lucius barked a harsh laugh. 'You are just like your father, Harry Potter,' he said. 'A reveler in small and petty power. How delighted you must be to be able to hold this over me — '
'It's not my fault he hates you,' Harry said. 'Why wouldn't he? You poisoned him.'
Lucius' jaw clenched. 'I would have thought — I thought — with all the powers of Hogwarts and Albus Dumbledore at your disposal — you would have been able to cure him without my assistance.'
'Snape tried to create an antidote,' Harry said, each word sharp and distinct like the flick of a knife. 'He did the best he could, but it wasn't enough. One ingredient was missing, one thing he couldn't identify. What is it?'
Lucius was shaking his head, a mad, darting light in his eyes. 'I told you -
told you both, that night on the tower — that was all the antidote there was. There isn't any more. And Draco had to break the vial, didn't he?
That sort of act, brave and foolish, ought to be saved for Gryffindors. My son ought to know better — '
'That's enough.' Harry grip tightened on the hilt of Terminus Est. He swung the sword up so that the point of it rested in the hollow of Lucius' throat. 'Tell me what the missing ingredient is in the antidote Snape created,' he said. 'Tell me, or I'll cut your throat slowly.'
Lucius held his hands up, but less to ward Harry off, it seemed, than to beseech his understanding. 'I'll tell you,' he said huskily. 'You don't need to threaten me. I'll tell you. It's dragon's blood.'
Harry laughed scornfully. 'Dragon's blood? You think Snape wouldn't have identified that? I might not like him much, but the man isn't stupid.'
'It's not ordinary dragon's blood,' Lucius said. 'It's the blood of argent dragons — '
Harry pressed the point of the sword in deeper. 'I've never heard of argent dragons.'
'No,' Lucius said. 'You wouldn't have. They've been extinct for over a thousand years.'
'Enervate.'
Tom awoke with his back against cold marble. His jaw throbbed where Draco had punched him, and there was a deep bitterness in his heart.
With the cold slowness of a snake, he raised his eyes to see Ginny leaning over him, her poppy-red hair showering down over them both. She was biting her lip, an expression of terrified submission in her dark eyes that was balm to his wounded soul.
'Tom,' she said. 'You're awake.'
He caught a handful of her hair, and tugged on it hard. She winced, tears springing to her eyes, but didn't move. 'What is this, Virginia? Why are you here? Did they leave you here to guard me, thinking that I wouldn't harm you? I'll tell you right now, they were wrong. I'll break your neck myself and die with you rather than give myself over to their righteous ministrations.'
'Would you?' she said, her mouth trembling. 'Would you really, Tom?'
She put her hand to his face, her thin fingers hot against his marble-cold cheek. 'I told them you wouldn't harm me, but only so they'd leave me alone with you. I want to escape with you, Tom. I want to be with you.'
He barked a sharp laugh, pulling harder at her hair. She only inclined her head, her eyes darting, frightened. He strained to feel that connection between them, the blood-bond that had allowed him to feel her emotions, sense the hatred, disgust and despair in her that had fed him like a banquet. But it had gone with the severance of his magic, spilling like blood from an amputated limb. 'Little liar,' he said. 'Why should I believe that?'
'Because you were right, Tom,' she whispered. 'You and me — we're the same. The others will never understand me, not like you do. And they'll never really want me — not like you do. They'd be happier if I just disappeared.'
He chuckled. 'I could have told you that,' he said. 'But I always thought you were too stupid to see it. And what of your boy — the one who wears your ribbon on his wrist?'
She shook her head. 'He'll never love me,' she said, and when he dragged his fingers cruelly through her hair, added quickly, 'And he's dying — he won't live much longer. And when he's dead, the rest of them won't want me around at all.'
This was something Tom could understand. 'They don't understand the evil in you,' he said. 'The darkness that runs like black ink through your Gryffindor blood.'
She was shaking her head. 'No,' she said, 'not like you do, Tom.' She leaned forward, close enough for him to see the gold flecks in her brown eyes. 'Thee to me,' she said, and she bent to kiss him, with the trembling shyness of a girl who'd never been kissed before.
Her fear, the desire that forced her past her shuddering reluctance, was salve to his gutted pride. He lifted his aching head from the marble, meeting her lips with his own.
It was like no kiss he had shared with her before. Their previous embraces had been like rape, with him taking from her what she did not want to give. This was an exchange of fire. Her mouth burned on his, her small hot hands cupping the back of his neck, her sharp teeth tracing his lower lip. His body responded fiercely, instantly, his mouth opening, tasting the inside of her mouth, his hands winding in her hair, tugging her against him. He had tasted potions before that tasted like this kiss did: fiery, bitter, necessary as breathing. His bones melted and ran, his blood seethed in his veins. His tortured lungs strained for air, but he could no more have pulled away from her that he could have opened his chest and ripped out his own heart.
Black diamonds swam in front of his eyes. Numb, his hands slipped from holding her, his fingers spasming. Against his mouth, he felt her begin to laugh.
Hermione dropped to her knees. Draco was lying motionless on the ground, where the wall curved to meet the floor. She turned him over. His eyes were closed, a pulse beating hard in his throat. 'Draco,' she said. She could feel the hammering of her own blood in her ears, the adrenaline of terror pumping through her veins. 'Draco — '
He sucked in a breath, and began coughing. Relief flowed through her — he was still alive. He shuddered a breath, and opened his eyes. 'Sorry about that,' he said, 'I didn't realize — ' He paused then, blinking. 'It's darker than I thought,' he said, and groped towards her with his hand.
'Hermione — ?'
'I dropped my wand,' she said. 'Wait.' She scrambled to retrieve it, and raised it in her hand. 'Lumos,' she said, and light filled the corridor again, casting stark shadows against the bare stone walls.
Draco, who had pulled himself into a sitting position, blinked again and looked towards her, his expression troubled. 'Can you make it brighter?'
he asked.
The wand trembled in her hand. 'Lumos fulmens,' she said, and light like the sun leaped now from the tip of her wand, and the corridor was bright as day. She could see the cuts on Draco's face, the shadows cast by his
