InsaneJournal

  He returned to full consciousness abruptly. Painfully. Mind disorientingly filled with dimmed memories of horribly cruel nightmares and hurtful threats.
His senses reeled at the disconcerting feeling of emptiness that seemed to engulf him and, for a second, he wondered if the strange things he remembered could have been real after all.

    Was there even the remotest chance that Potter... Potter! Had attempted to bind him in vengeful wrath to a fate of virtual slavery -through a dismally botched vow- and managed, somehow, to finally kill him?
    The thought was so ridiculous that he felt like snorting. Only the very real agony his body seemed to be in, prevented him from so much as blinking at that second.

    So... Peterssen had managed to surpass himself with some... as-of-yet-still-to-be-remembered form of new torture and he'd... fell into a nightmare-filled bout of unconsciousness that had scared the little shits badly enough to dump him in the magic-dampening cubicle, if the awful feeling of crushing emptiness he was currently experiencing was to be believed.
    His chest rose and fell at regular intervals as his mind attempted to pinpoint exactly which part of his body had received the blunt of the healer's brutal “attentions”.
 
- Sweet Merlin in bright green bloomers! but I feel like a flattened pancake!- he thought derisively, only a second before he realised what that strange, heavy warmth enveloping his left arm, from wrist to shoulder, and the right side of his neck truly meant: Wards...

    Someone had placed protective wards upon his person! Over the worst injuries he could find within his body. Wards that were pulsing with gentle, healing energy. The kind of wards no self-respecting Medi-wizard would ever place over a patient unless they had, somehow become...

' DRAINED, POTTER! Magically drained! How on Earth is it possible that he survives  Azkaban's vicious little medic -under whose care YOUR people placed him, by the way!-  with ONLY severe trauma, but ends up on the very verge of DEATH!, once. Fighting the onslaught of a seriously dark ritual for well over a week and, then, manages to lose EVERY SCRAPE OF MAGIC HE POSSESSES!, the moment he is placed under your care?!'

    Draco! That was Draco! He would have identified that voice among a million in a heartbeat.
Ebony coloured eyes shot open with the urgency of the frantic. His gaze raked the white room he found himself in, barely registering anything beyond the fact that -One: This wasn't Azkaban's magic-dampening little hole- and -Two: Draco was not here...-

'Malfoy! You've got to calm yourself down or they'll throw you out of here! The healers are already kind of pissed off with me, you see? I don't think they'll allow us any more... '

' THE HEALERS ARE PISSED OFF!... ' Draco sounded absolutely incredulous and livid to boot. His tone turned almost savage with his next breath, as he hissed quite furiously:
' The Medi-wizards are not your biggest problem here, Potter, believe me! I'm about a second away from removing your entrails through your nostrils at the very least, you, useless moron! '

' Malfoy...! '

' Do not “Malfoy” me! Not after this! Not when I know just how badly you have harmed my Godfather! If anything, anything at all happens to him, Potter...! I will hunt you down, to whichever hole you crawl into, and put the family's precious collection of dark curses to good use on your hide! '

    Severus fairly forgot his aching muscles, his weakened legs and the fact that there were all kinds of things currently attached to his ghostly-white limbs in his haste to abandon the bed.
His eyes, widened in horror, fixed upon the doorknob and refused to move from it until he could feel it's reassuring coldness curled underneath his fingers.

' Malfoy! Are you crazy? Do you know how many people have just witnessed you threatening me?' The outrageously horrified little hiss that was Potter's response dried his mouth with utter dread as Severus's worst fears came to life.
He had not dreamed the ghastly conversation with the mightily pissed off auror at all! It had been real! He... He had consented to... slavery...! for the good of his godson and now... now Draco was out there, seriously wrong-footing the bastard who'd dared threaten his freedom, his very life, in the worst possible way imaginable!

    Severus felt like screaming out in rage, when his weakened hold could not immediately manage to turn the doorknob open. He fought frantically with the blasted thing as his precious godchild's reply reached his horrified ears in the very next second:

' Threatening you, Potter? I was not merely threatening you! I was promising you the most painful of all de...'

' DRA...CO...! '
In his head he had shouted the name. Roared it, really, through a haze of sheer terror, set on nothing short of silencing the young boy at once. In reality, though, his vocal chords had failed him utterly. Refusing to inject the sound with any strength at all. Forcing nothing but a fragile, broken croak out of his lips just as he'd finally managed to pry the blasted door open. But it had been enough...

    His pale face reflected nothing but the most distressed kind of warning as he glared, right into the beloved features of his one and only godchild, to find out that the frightened boy he remembered was no more.
Draco had grown in the four years he'd lost and the visage of the man who'd turned towards him, as if pulled with an accio, had no more resemblance to the childish features he remembered than the faint glow of a candle-flame had to the sun.

' Godfather?! '
There was incredulity painting joyful shadows within the steadily warming grey of the eyes that, despite their change, still held the same expression. The same affection. The same devoted kind of love that they had always held, whenever their gaze had been directed towards him.
    A weakening wave of dizzying relief shot through his body in the very next instant and, although he had to hold quite tightly on to the half-opened door, in order to remain upright, nothing and no one could have prevented the dazzling smile that broke across his face as his dark eyes returned the warmth contained in the boy's look, tenfold.

' Draco! I... '

' What the Hell do you think you are doing out of bed?... Actually, How on Earth are you even awake at all? The healers gave you enough Draught of the Living Dead to put down an army of Hippogryphs for half a year! '

    Potter's ill-timed whining dimmed the magnificent joy he was experiencing. Casting shadows upon the absolute perfection of his much longed-for reunion with his beloved godchild.
    Draco's face fell as his brow furrowed and he lurched anxiously forward, placing perfectly careful long fingers upon the door, before peering around it.
Gray eyes, now much more reminiscent of Luc's own than he'd ever seen then before, settled thunderously upon Severus's white-knuckled grip around the doorknob and a muscle visibly clenched on the blonde's perfectly shaved jaw.

' I am deeply touched that you've done me the honour of receiving me at your door, Godfather. I am grateful for the courtesy and humbled by this gesture, but I... I have been standing for too long, arguing with this... idi...'

' Draco! '

    Severus's gentle smile became rigid as he attempted to cut short the obvious insult with a nervous glance in Potter's direction.
His heart plummeted when he spied the thunderous scowl the auror was directing towards the blond and he felt himself pale when his precious godchild shrugged his admonition carelessly off  and continued:

' Potter here has drained my energy with his tiresome lack of wit, Godfather... '

    He was so busy worrying about the vengeful jerk's possible reaction to that thoughtless jibe that he didn't even notice Draco's gentle arm curling around his waist, until it carefully supported his weight when the door was pushed, very delicately, open.
The doorknob fell away from his grasping fingers and he felt, all of a sudden, utterly unbalanced and weakened.
   Draco's grip around him firmed. It steadied him and focused him when his legs attempted to let him down once more.
His brow started to sweat when the effort to remain upright began to take his toll and it was, with the deepest gratitude, that he felt Draco turn his obvious hold into a loving  embrace at that humiliatingly painful second.

    His long hair fell across his paling features, obscuring his visage completely. Then the wide shoulder of his godson suddenly appeared before him, offering him brief solace silently.
    He hid his face within the familiarly scented creases of the elegant robe Draco was wearing, as the younger man slowly dragged his stiff frame into a tight, heart-filled embrace. Allowing him to regain both, his balance and his strength, against the quiet support of that strong body.

' I am so glad to see you stand, Godfather! To hear your voice. To feel you return my touch with your own... You have no idea just how much I've prayed for this moment to come...! '

    He sighed contentedly. Allowing his tired forehead to rest, an instant longer, against the disconcertingly tall frame of the man Draco had become.
' I have missed you too, Draco ' he whispered very quietly. Loath to  expose such private sentiment to the vicious scorn of a shamelessly voyeuristic Potter.

    He could feel that green gaze digging painfully angry daggers into the back of his skull. Casting it's derisive little aspersions over the intimacy of an encounter he had no right, at all!, to witness and he bristled at the indignity of the scrutiny.
Did the bastard have no sense of decency left? No concept of privacy? No clue as to how... offensive... it simply was for him to stand there and... gape!... at them, as if they were the very worst kind of slimy insects, just because they happened to feel affection for one another?

    A sudden unpleasant discharge of agitated magic jostled his wounded arm when the ward that protected it reacted, quite unfavourably, to the blonde's attempt to handle the limb.
    He gasped in shocked agony, taking an involuntary step back and barely managing to hide from the other two his utter dismay at having dragged their attention back to his pitifully weak state.

' I'm sorry, Godfather! I didn't realise the shield has also a protection spell, or I wouldn't have touched it! ' Draco's distressed apology reached him, as if through a thick veil, when the meaning of the blasted ward he was carrying suddenly sunk within his consciousness.

    Horrified ebony eyes, widened with devastated understanding, rose to stare blankly into that shadowed grey gaze.
' Drained...  Draco!... I. Am. Drained! '
    Like a fist to the gut he felt it then: the emptiness of magic... His magic. All magic. The absence of the force that had always been there: inside him. Around him. Beside him...
He was now... empty of it! Alone for the first time within his body. Bereft of the great gift he'd always treasured. The only grace his broken mother had ever bestowed upon him: the beautiful, precious entity that had always;  Always!, set him apart from his beast of a father...

    He was not aware of the stricken horror so clearly visible in his shocked stare. Unconscious of the way his whole frame shivered. His skin losing all warmth and all colour, in the blink of an eye, as his very face twisted into a mask of devastated mourning.

' My magic...! I... I have lost my magic...! '
His voice wavered and flickered with the force of his emotions, like a powerless
candle-flame fighting uselessly against a blizzard and, although he remained upright through sheer stubbornness, he felt himself crumple pathetically from the inside out.

' NO! No. No! It's temporary, Godfather! It's only temporary. An effect to some kind of magical backlash! I've just spent an hour talking to Healer Jones: Tall, curly brunette hair, soft blue eyes... Do you remember her? '

    He could see right through Draco's tactic: distracting his mind with tiny details about some silly nonsense in order to ground him through the shock, but it worked. His reeling senses took hold of the details, tried to assemble them into some kind of useful information, grateful both: for the distraction and the chance it gave him to bring himself back under control.
He had to master himself at once! Right there and then, before he  allowed himself the miserable indignity of breaking down in front of Potter!

' Laura Jones. Hufflepuff. She was particularly gifted in Herbology and Arithmancy... A total terror near my Potions, though. '

    Draco's smile was visibly strained as it valiantly fought not to wilt.
' Yes! Yes. That one! ' He agreed, taking a single step closer in order to take gentle hold of Severus's good arm, just beneath his elbow.
' Did you know that she studied medi-magic? Trained in Switzerland of all places! She's become something of an expert in ailments of The Core... '

    Severus frowned. Dark coloured eyes focused so intently on Draco's face that he simply mirrored the blonde's steps when he began to, very slowly, move towards the bed.
' Draining is not an ailment of The Core, Draco ' He pointed out, in a toneless little whisper that seemed to shatter his godson's fake composure, as he added the next devastating detail with a quiet, terrible finality:
 ' Magical Draining is a permanent, irreversible condition caused by the corruption of one's Aura... '

' No, Severus! No! Your Aura is just as pure as mine! Or his! Your magic has not been tainted into annihilating itself! I swear it! I... I... I had to shut it down! I. Had. To! You were becoming distressed under the onslaught of too much power! '

    Potter's unwanted intervention forced him to look around and stare right into a pair of shadowed green eyes. There were tears in those eyes. Crystalline, beautiful drops of liquid misery poised ready to fall from thick dark lashes.

' Do not lie to me, Potter! ' He snarled at the bastard. Infuriated that even now, in this most distressing set of circumstances, the jerk dared mock him so blatantly with a bare faced lie:
' No wizard can ever shut down another's magic! It's just... not possible! '

Emerald fire whirled within the confines of those shimmering green eyes:
' No other wizard could defeat your blasted Lord, either, and there he went: Straight to Hell on my command! '

    That answer blind-sided him completely. Knocked him totally off balance at the same time it gave him hope. His every muscle turned to stone with sheer stress and his ebony eyes glittered almost feverishly as he half lurched, half turned towards the auror.
    His injured shoulder collided with Draco's and the painful shot of defensive magic that lashed out from the shield almost brought him to his knees.

' Harry, shut up, for goodness sake! Can you not see that your presence here is distressing him? '

With a face like thunder Lily's child growled determinedly:
' I. Am. Not. Leaving! '

    Blatantly ignoring the auror, Draco's hands settled with careful gentleness around his waist once more. Mindful of the ward that still flashed agitated blue sparks all along the surface of Severus's broken arm.
The limb throbbed now steadily and he gritted his teeth fiercely. Concentrating on keeping it as far away from his godchild's body as he could possibly manage while, at the same time, allowing the younger man to carefully steer him towards the bed.
    His throat betrayed him when he finally sat upon the mattress and a groan that was, half a sigh of relief and half a hiss of pain, escaped from his lips into the increasingly tense silence.

' Godfather? '

    A world of worry and affection had been freely poured into that one-word-sentence and he attempted to curve his shaking mouth into some kind of reassuring smile that must have failed, abysmally, if  Draco's crestfallen expression was any indication.
    His neck had started to throb with the strain of holding the rigidity of his posture for so long and he allowed his shoulders to slump forwards, ever so slightly, without bothering to look up.
His black eyes closed and he exhaled deeply. Bringing his aching head forwards in a swinging arch that set free the long locks of his dark hair, allowing the black tresses to fall around his ashen face, like an all-obscuring curtain.

    There was silence all around him. Oppressive, distressed silence and he felt like hurling both youths outside once more, before bolting the door closed so securely that not even Merlin himself  could open it.
    He wanted to be alone. He needed to be alone. Desired the reprieve of giving vent to his tightly suppressed emotions that only complete privacy would grant him. But, of course, like every other thing he'd ever truly needed or wanted in his life: complete privacy, at least for the moment, was just... not on offer!...

' Godfather?... Godfather... Please! talk to me! '

    He could feel Draco's attempt to raise his head from it's lowered position. Long, careful digits curling gently around his chin and puling upwards. He resisted the silent request for as long as he possibly could. Only complying with the increasingly frantic tugs when he sensed the boy's legs bowing slightly, in preparation to lowering their owner down onto the floor.
He could not... would not, ever!, allow Potter to see Draco on his knees.
   His head shot up, trembling chin submissively resting upon the boy's gentle fingers, but it took all his strength to force his eyes open. 

' I... I am all right, Draco ' He uttered the lie with a blank, devastated voice. Unable to dig up the strength to infuse the disaster that was his speech with the kind of force needed to make it sound, at least, not so dismally croaked.

    The beloved grey gaze softened. It looked down at him with the kind of devoted affection only Draco had truly ever granted him freely.
' No, Godfather. You are not all right yet... But you will be. I promise! '

    He wanted to believe the soothing words so badly that his whole frame shook with embarrassing emotion. His eyes darkened with the  sorrow of those who know that, whatever fortune there's to be given out to all men trough fate, had never so much as touched him during this lifetime: Good luck was simply... not for the likes of him.
' Draco... I don't think... '

    The thin digits still holding his chin wandered upwards, pressing gently against his lips to bring his words to a halt.
' No, Severus. No! I... Harry is telling you the truth. We don't know how it is possible but he... he seems to have just... shut you down like a faucet. Your magic is all there, I swear it! I've seen proof with my own eyes! Jones showed us all the scans! '

    His heart faltered as hope blossomed within his soul for a brief second and he felt dizzy with the joy of knowing himself to be... still complete. Still a wizard. Still special...
    Then the idea of Potter, POTTER! having -apparently- untold control not only over his actions but, also, his magic, froze him to the spot. Turned him to stone. Paralysed him in terror as he remembered the man who'd so coldly threatened to destroy whom Severus himself most valued, out of merciless hatred for him.
What wouldn't a man like that do with the kind of unexpected power he, now, held over his enemy?
    Ebony coloured eyes searched for Potter and, when his gaze clashed with the emerald fire glittering, so fiercely, from the thunderous features of the auror, all hope shrivelled.
Potter hated him. Hated. Him!
His magic was as good as gone. It'd been stolen...

' Godfather? '

    Draco's reassuring smile faltered as he slowly blinked dazedly. His head shied away from the soothing, calming touch of his godchild and he swivelled around. Lifting his aching legs up onto the mattress and, single-handedly, pulling the thick mound of blankets over  himself when he was done.
    His dark eyes avoided all contact with both boys as he all but sagged against his mountain of pillows with a silent sigh. Ignoring for the moment the bewildered, hurt expression that had appeared in his godson's eyes.

' I am tired, Draco '  he offered up finally. Four flat-toned words that, somehow, managed to set the air all around him ablaze with barely contained frustration.

' Your magic is not lost, Godfather! Didn't you hear me? It is still there. All of it! It's only just... unreachable for now! Jones assures me that you'll make a full recovery! '

    Draco's increasingly frantic voice was wrecking havoc with his composure. He did not know just how much... stress... he could endure before he finally broke and, in all honesty, he'd rather not do so before these two...
He swallowed painfully. The very act a battle for supremacy against the tight knot of tension that seemed to be slowly suffocating him from the inside out.

' I... I heard you, child, and I am... ' his words faltered as he searched for a word to fit this nightmare. Something reassuring enough to still Draco's obvious worry and, at the same time, truthful enough not to be only fabrication.
He had never consciously lied to his godson with either, words or actions, and was reluctant to do so without good reason.

' You are...? '
    Draco had picked up on his prevarication and now pounced on the weakness, like a wolf scenting blood.

' I am relieved ' He offered firmly, finally settling on the simplest truth with a weary whisper.
Forcing himself into a calmness he was worlds away from feeling, he turned his aching head and allowed his black eyes to stare right into Draco's suspicious ones.
Worry and bewilderment met him head on. There was love and there was sorrow. Panic, hope, indecision. There was stubborn mulishness and protective loyalty. There was fierce doubt...
    Silver coloured shadows turned that gaze to steel in the blink of an eye and, the sweet boy he'd known all his life, turned into a stony-eyed stranger so reminiscent of Luc that he felt as if he'd been plunged into a past he had no wish to ever revisit.

' There is something you are not telling me...!'

    His good shoulder failed to raise and fall as smoothly as he'd intended. But the shrug was as recognisable a gesture as it'd been clumsy.
' I am tired ' he repeated stubbornly. Obstinately holding on to his excuse like a crab holds it's shell. Lets it shatters before him, leaving him open to the unthinkable vulnerability of full exposure.

    Pale hair shone like stardust as his boy cocked that dazzlingly blond head of his slightly to one side, studying him intently.
' Very well. We'll let you rest, for now, but I want you to know that this is not over, Godfather... Whatever it is, I'll make it better. I swear it! Everything is going to be all right now that you are back. You'll see... Just... hold on a little bit longer... Please...! '

    He could not meet those eyes. He would not meet them! He knew that Draco was distressed and suspicious and, maybe, more than a little bit frustrated. But he himself felt as if life had just chewed him up and spat him right out on to the gutter without so much as a by your leave.
    Silence grew as both Slytherins waited for the other to fold first -but neither did-, leaving each one feeling wrong-footed and uneasy.

' We'll let you be, then, Godfather. Sleep well. I'll bring  Mum and Dad later, to visit, and we'll talk then '

    Black eyes blinked very slowly and the elegant blonde's hands curled in two impotent fists that betrayed his worry.

' I'll look forward to it, Draco. ' Was all he managed to say and knew, just knew!, that his act had been nothing but utter failure.
His godson shot him a look before moving away from the bed. Then whirled around to face the door and stood there for a second too long. Stiffened back turned towards the room, as if attempting to convince himself to walk away.

' Come on, Malfoy... give the man a break! ' Potter forced the issue by reaching over Draco's shoulder and opening the door for him, all but ushering a very reluctant pure blooded heir out into the corridor  with no subtlety at play.

    Just before closing the door he turned around and stared at him for a brief second.
There was a look in those green eyes that Severus had never seen directed at him before in all his years. It was a look filled with purpose and determination. With stubbornness. With fire...
It was a look that, for some reason, reminded him of others he had never compared Potter to before now. Not really.
    It reminded him of Lucius, of Voldermort, of Albus Dumbledore himself... and, in the silence that grew into suffocating existence in their wake, Severus closed his tired eyes and wondered what it was about himself that attracted towards his person the kind of powerful men who could, so very carelessly indeed, burn him to cinders...


TBC...