Chapter Two of 'For Their Unconquerable Souls'- A Scattershot of Impressions

[lomonaaeren]

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Two—A Scattershot of Impressions

His father had been wounded, and he had not been there in time to kill the attacker.

That was the only thought existing in Draco’s mind when he came through the door of Lucius’s hospital room, and then he had to stop, because another had joined it when he saw the Healer waiting in front of Lucius’s bed. Or, no, not waiting, but spinning around to face him, as if he thought an intruder more important than the man he was being paid to attend.

Harry Potter.

Draco would have liked to curl around the sickening knowledge that Harry Potter held his father’s life hostage and writhe with it in silence for some time, but he had no moment in which to do so. Betraying weakness in front of someone not of the family was intolerable. And he was in his late twenties now, with his Potions mastery a few months of hard studying away. The only notice Potter deserved from him was chill anger.

He bounded past Potter then, returning to what was important, his father and the unknown curse that had felled him. That one word in the letter, unknown, had scared him worse than all the rest. And now he had to learn that not only was there a chance Lucius could die because no one recognized the curse, but also that his treatment was in the hands of an incompetent.

His father looked up at him through a mask of glowing ice that Draco had long training in seeing through. There was pain there, and some fear, but no resignation. He had not given up, despite everything. And Draco fed on that strength and gave strength back as a flowing river.

“Father, what happened?” Draco asked. He had meant to make his voice colder and stronger than Lucius’s mask, but he saw the wound on his chest expand, then, as if someone had dragged an invisible knife down the line. “I came as soon as I heard, but—what is this?” He knew part of the answer, but showing too much knowledge in front of someone like Potter was inadvisable. “Dark Arts?” He drew his wand and held it casually at his side. Whether he wanted to dispel the curse or send Potter away, it made him feel better to have it drawn.

“A curse, my son.” Lucius’s voice was calm, ordinary, but the very answer told Draco that Lucius had expected more of him. He’d told him it was a curse in his letter; must Draco ask obvious questions? Draco flickered an eyelash in acknowledgment, but said nothing. His distress and his love for his father must be his excuses. “Healer Potter here—“

“Mediwizard Potter.” Potter’s voice had a smug tone to it, Draco thought, glaring at him, as if he were glad that he didn’t have the higher title, because then no one could blame him when Lucius died under his care. “I never achieved full Healer’s rank.”

Taking the offensive against someone who held a family member’s life in his hands was incautious, but Draco doubted that his father would scold him for it, because Potter would not be the one ultimately left to tend to Lucius. They would find another Healer. Narcissa would make sure of that, or Draco would find someone among his Potions contacts who had the skill and interest to make a go at tending this curse.

In the meantime, Draco could use Potter as an outlet for relieving his stress.

“Why not?” he asked, leaning forwards, longing to see the words curdle Potter’s smile. “Too busy running off to have adventures in the middle of treatments?”

“A lack of proper NEWT scores in Potions, actually.”

Draco felt his eyes widen, in such a way that he knew Potter must have seen it happen. But he managed to keep his jaw from falling open, which under the circumstances was a coup. He had not known a Potter who had any sense of humor about himself. And no one changed enough to have one where he hadn’t possessed it before in a few short years. Great as the changes had been in Draco himself, he knew he was incapable of it, and Potter, the inflexible, brittle Gryffindor, was not even as adaptable as he was.

“I have some ideas about how to handle the curse, and the stabilization spells should protect you from permanent damage for a few days before I have to renew them,” Potter continued on, turning to Lucius. He seemed to find nothing extraordinary in his own words, which infuriated Draco further. How dare Potter escape the impact that had stunned Draco into stillness? “But I’ll be honest—”

“You seem to be nothing but,” Lucius murmured.

Potter just smiled as if he were trying not to get angry. Draco read the correct import of those words, though. They were aimed at him. His father was saying they could trust Potter’s ridiculous Gryffindor honor, if not Potter in general, and wanted to warn Draco off making assumptions that they couldn’t. So Draco stayed silent for the moment, his hand digging into the sheets behind Lucius’s shoulder, where his whitened knuckles would be out of Potter’s sight, and listened to Potter say, “A Healer would have access to more medical texts than I do. I may be able to find you someone who won’t care about your reputation, Mr. Malfoy, and who can command the attendance of several mediwizards or mediwitches. Would you prefer that I do this?” He raised his eyebrows and looked perfectly calm and perfectly concerned, as if he really would allow Lucius’s decision to make a difference in the way he treated him.

Draco shook his head in growing fury. From somewhere Potter had acquired the acting skills to make it seem as if he were not salivating to take revenge on Lucius for hurting his little girlfriend. That seemed incredible, impossible. But it was even more so that his “gentle, professional, honest” mediwizard image could be genuine.

“You said you were unsure that anyone in hospital would endeavor to treat me fully.” Lucius’s voice was without emphasis. Draco bowed his head further to conceal a smile. He doubted that Potter knew what the lack of inflection meant. His father was making up his mind to something distasteful, and in this case that was having to rely on Potter when he would surely rather use anyone else.

“Yes, sir, that’s quite true.” Potter sighed, a martyred sound. Doubtless this interfered with his plans to go back to his office and get drunk, Draco thought, or owl his Gryffindor friends and laugh about Lucius’s graciousness. “I trust my willingness to do so—“

Draco could not let that line pass without comment. Potter had no idea what trust meant for a member of a pure-blood family. It meant leaning on others’ strength absolutely and without comment when one had need to do so, and expecting that they would do the same when their moment of need came. It meant intense emotions, blazing the more brightly from their confinement to a small number of people. Trust could never be a casual word there.

“I don’t,” he said.

Potter’s eyes flickered sideways to him once, making Draco confident he had at least been heard. Draco had forgotten how stunning they were, those eyes. He could have wished he knew a family member who had them. To see them shine with earned trust would be something. But they were in the wrong face, and the wrong tone of voice was saying, “But not necessarily my skill. You might be better off with someone who would become interested in the challenge even if he or she didn’t like you personally.”

His father let that statement pass as it should, in a few moments of thinking silence. Draco smelled snowflowers as his mother leaned past him and pressed her lips into the edge of Lucius’s ear. She did not speak deliberately loud enough for Draco to hear, but all matters of the family concerned him, and so he heard her say, “We should send for someone else. This—this sparking honesty is not enough, not when unpaired with skill. I would rather trust our bribes.”

Draco was not foolish enough to nod, not when that might give Potter a guess at what their whispered conversation had been about, but he privately agreed. The flash of coins in the eyes of a greedy man or woman was far less troublesome than the flash of a Gryffindor’s mercurial character.

His father took his mother’s wrist and bore down. Narcissa leaned away with her face gone a touch paler than usual, but she nodded. Draco felt his stomach tighten with anxiety. He knew what his father was thinking, yes, but not what he was thinking. He had decided to take the risk and lean on the strength of a man whom they could not bribe and had no reason to trust.

Lucius said, “I prefer that you work on me until we have seen your skill is insufficient to the task.”

Potter bowed. That gesture, combined with his next words, could almost have convinced Draco that he was sensible of the honor he’d just received. “Thank you for trusting me, sir. Allow me to revise these notes.” He held up a parchment he’d presumably used to take notes on Lucius’s condition.. “I’ll return tomorrow for the books you promised and to give you my preliminary diagnosis.”

He turned and left.

That would have been the prime moment for a private family conference. Draco could feel the tendrils of soft, cold expectation reaching out from his mother and father to enfold him, to bind him and draw him in with his face turned to theirs.

Instead, he went after Potter.

Potter was lowering his wand, taking a deep breath, as if he had passed out of some fetid cell into clean air and wanted to exude the last traces of the smell from his lungs. Draco would have complained about that, but Potter likely wouldn’t have known what “fetid” meant. He turned around when he saw Draco, and for a moment those green eyes were weary. Draco bristled. Potter was looking at him as if he were one more obstacle to be struggled past on the way to—somewhere. Bed, perhaps. Potter would be the kind of mediwizard who counted the hours between one rest and the next, and thought a small bit of sleep missed was enough to entitle him to an all day’s whinge. He had certainly whinged enough in school.

“Yes, Malfoy?” he said. “Can I help you?”

Draco leaned towards him, hoping that Potter would see he was still a few inches shorter than Draco and recognize a threat when he saw it. But all that happened was the crinkling of a few lines around Potter’s eyes, as if he were actually amused, so Draco saw he would have to do something he despised doing for people outside the family and make himself clear. “If you don’t cure my father, what that curse does to him will seem like nothing beside what my curse does to you.”

Potter paused as if he were thinking about it. Draco wanted to hiss at him. Why did he need to think about it? Draco, with the knowledge of both Dark Arts and poisons he’d gained in the last few years, was only telling the truth, and he had spoken in an intimidating whisper.

“I look forwards to your demonstration of competence,” Potter said then, and bowed to him. His voice was mock-grave, though it took Draco a moment to notice that beside the shock of his next words. “You can only have improved since I last saw you.”

Then he turned his back and walked away.

A Muggle saint couldn’t have been asked to resist the temptation that his uncaring spine presented. Draco had never compared himself to a Muggle saint except when he had to deal with a few of his more incompetent colleagues. He raised his wand and aimed a careful Stinging Hex at the back of Potter’s robes.

It streaked away towards Potter, on target as always, and then bounced. Draco had time for surprise, but not enough time to move. The Hex enveloped his fingers, and they began to burn, particularly around the nails. He yelped and held the hand closer to his body, staring at Potter as he walked on. There was an extra spring to his walk now, Draco thought, since he had heard the noise.

The Potter Draco had been creating in his mind and drawing from the man in front of him crumbled. Someone incautious, someone thinking only of his bed and of insulting people better than he was, didn’t put wards on the back of his robes that would instantly deflect a skillful hex.

Draco stepped slowly back into his father’s hospital room, never taking his eyes off Potter as he went. Perhaps Potter’s motivation lay elsewhere, then. Perhaps he intended to take his vengeance by healing Lucius, showing the Malfoys that their patriarch’s life depended on a half-blood, and insulting them at the same time.

That was too subtle for the man Draco had thought he knew, but he was coming to realize that he might not know Potter so well.

*

“I do not think confronting Potter again would be wise, Draco.”

Draco turned slowly, leaning one shoulder against the wall. He hadn’t spoken to his mother that morning; he had simply spent a little longer in the loo than usual, making sure the magical shampoo had washed every speck of dirt out of his hair, and used an enchantment that drew attention to his gray eyes. But his mother had read the truth from those brief, subtle clues.

Of course, she had been meant to. And if she had been a whit less clever, Lucius would not have married her, and she would not have survived the passion that swirled in the confines of the Malfoy home.

Narcissa was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase, her hands resting gently on her hips. She wore a shining lavender gown this morning, with streaks of gray. Draco approved. They would have at least a few visits from old “associates” of Lucius who had heard the truth and came to offer their half-false condolences, and they would devour every movement Narcissa made, every flicker of her eyelid, every tint of color to her cheeks. This gown made her look normal, not pale, calm. They would go home perhaps wanting to believe that she was resigned to her husband’s death, but not able to find evidence for it in her manner.

“I’m not going to confront him as in use magic on him,” said Draco. “I do want to test his skill, yes, especially after what I found out last night.” He had asked a few Healers he passed, using a combination of flirtation and a subtle glamour charm so they weren’t quite able to catch a glimpse of his face, and learned that what Potter said was true. He had only achieved a mediwizard’s rank due to a lack of skills with potions. Draco himself could supply that lack, should his father need them, but he didn’t like the fact that St. Mungo’s thought it perfectly permissible to cast Lucius Malfoy into the care of a man who couldn’t brew.

The implications of that stretched far beyond the moment. And perhaps Potter noticed them and knew what they meant better than Draco himself, since he had worked in the place for several years. But if that was the case, he had accepted Lucius’s care anyway, and so he was either plotting something or overconfident.

“And if he’s in the middle of a delicate procedure that could cost your father’s life?” Narcissa’s voice carried no more emphasis than Lucius’s had at some points last night. It didn’t need to. The level gaze Draco received told him everything he needed to know.

“Then I’ll leave him alone, of course, and wait until he’s done.” Draco snorted at the way his mother tilted her head, which had the effect of sharpening her gaze. It had been most effective on him when he was still a boy of five. Now he knew exactly where the sudden urge to squirm came from. “Mother, you must know we can’t leave Father in the hands of an absolute incompetent.”

“I judge his skill to be greater than his tact,” said Narcissa.

Draco blinked. It was the most approval his mother had given to anyone outside the family circle in years. Of course, since the war they had been particularly embattled, likely to see only enemies or those “friends” who would gloat about their fallen status, but still, his mother could have complimented a real Healer, not Harry Bloody Potter.

“I’ll be quiet,” he said. “Sedate. Cautious. Everything you expect of me.”

“Except charming.” Narcissa’s lips had lifted into a faint, reluctant smile. Draco rejoiced to see it. She had been more silent than usual, face blank even around him, since Lucius had landed in hospital. Of course, she had reason to be. Lucius’s death would leave a hole in their defenses that she, who had seen one family disintegrate, would understand better than Draco did. Knowledge taken from history books was never as effective in teaching lessons as first-hand experience.

“Do you really think Potter deserves charming, Mother?”

“No.” Narcissa gave him a long, piercing glance that made Draco feel as if one of the enchanted mirrors on the wall had suddenly gained the power to look back. “But no more would I wish you to alienate him when so far he seems a Fool.”

Draco felt his eyebrows rise. The Fool was a private reference his mother had carried out of her youth, when she had sometimes handled the cards usually used by idiots who believed in Divination. The cards didn’t work for anyone except true Seers, so his mother had given them up in time, but she had taught some of their names and signs to Draco. The Fool was a rare type: honest, lucky, always skirting the edge of disaster but always escaping it again, and drawing others with him into his madcap life.

If Potter really was one, Narcissa was telling him in much fewer words, they should let him work unmolested.

And looking back over the miraculous way Potter had escaped death again and again, Draco could see why his mother might believe that. But he himself would need more proof before he decided that Potter could simply be left alone with his father and warrant none of Draco’s interference.

So now he murmured, “I think him masked,” and departed through the fire, whilst his mother sighed like rattling crystal behind him.

*

Draco leaned against the door of his father’s room and allowed himself to be reluctantly impressed. Potter had information from the Ministry, important information that might not have come to their family otherwise, and he was speaking to Lucius in a fearless voice that made Draco inclined to agree with his father’s assessment of Potter’s honesty.

On the other hand, he was also using language that was less than respectful to the head of a pure-blood family, let alone a patient. At one point he asked if both Draco’s parents had been virgins the first time they had sex!

And then he admitted that he and the youngest Weasley had been.

That made Draco narrow his eyes and lean hard against the doorframe as his mind jolted into a new path. He knew from reading the newspapers of the past few years that Potter frequently dated other people, both men and women, and just as frequently broke up with them. When Draco had bothered to think about that, which wasn’t often, he had simply assumed that Potter’s high standards meant he was unable to be satisfied with a conquest for long. But perhaps it was really because he was a slut and needed a new variety of sex constantly.

Draco had never had sex with him. If he seduced Potter, perhaps that would mean that Potter would be contented for a short time, enough to keep his mind focused on Lucius’s treatment, because he wanted to please Draco and keep him interested. Draco had no doubts about his ability to keep Potter interested.

Glad for the instinct that had led him to spend some extra time on his grooming this morning, he waited for the perfect moment to intrude, and then he heard Potter say, “My best guess at the moment is that Smythe also cast a third spell buried under the two that seem obvious, and that spell didn’t go exactly as he planned.”

“Your best guess,” Draco said, and made sure to drawl as he said it. Potter stared at him with true anger for a moment before he managed to master his emotions. Draco wanted to chuckle with delight. Potter might like to think of himself as controlled, unsusceptible to tactics like the one Draco was trying on him, but he had nothing compared to a pure-blood’s paranoid mastery of emotions outside the walls of his home.

It was perfect, Potter’s response to that and the next few sentences Draco spoke to him. He taunted him with information he’d heard from the other mediwizards—that Potter really should have figured out the pattern of Lucius’s curse by now, because he was supernaturally quick at things like that—and watched Potter flush as he sought for a response. By the time he turned and asked his father how he was, Draco was feeling confident in his ability to stir up an emotional reaction from Potter. Right not it was anger, but that would change when Draco turned on the charm and the flattery.

Lucius gave him a flat stare, warning Draco that he was taking things too far for their naïve, pathetic little mediwizard. Draco ignored him. His father might have certain opinions about how he would like things to go, but he was flat on his back in a bed with a potentially dangerous man trying to “save” his life. Draco would just have to take charge and make sure that Potter was actually useful, guided and directed to the proper ends.

Then he saw someone gesture from out in the corridor, and Potter excused himself to duck out after the person. Draco started to cast a spell that would let him listen to the conversation, but Lucius regained his attention with a harsh squeeze of his hand.

“What are you doing, Draco?” he whispered.

“Making sure that I can affect Potter.” Draco held his own face in a mock-innocent expression, so if Potter came back through the door suddenly, he’d simply seem to be having an inoffensive conversation with his father.

“You intend to—“

“Seduce him?” Draco laughed at the twitch of his father’s eyebrow. Lucius didn’t believe in mixing sex with business, but then, that was because he hadn’t ever cheated on his wife. Draco didn’t intend to marry as young as his father had, or ever, unless he was lucky enough to find someone who could be trusted with the secrets of the family. No pure-blood witch or wizard of his acquaintance was like that. If worst came to worst, he would use blood magic to adopt a child and thus continue the Malfoy line. “Yes, I do. It’s the only way I think I can bind him securely to us. And until you’re out of hospital, I won’t entrust your life to anyone whose first loyalty is not to us.”

Lucius’s lips twitched for a moment, and he gave a nod. Potter swept back into the room then, his own lips clamped. Draco turned to face him and prepared for some lecture on the impropriety of being close to his own father’s bedside.

Instead, Potter spoke the words that changed everything and smashed Draco’s half-formed plans to try and get into Potter’s bed tonight to splinters. “I just received a warning from my immediate superior. There are certain people who don’t want you here and might well attack you.”

Chapter Three.

Comments

[helenadax.livejournal.com]

It's very funny. Good to see Malfoy's can have fun even in the worst situations XD

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Draco isn't quite as humor-filled as Lucius (Lucius kind of enjoys Harry's jokes), but he will find some amusement when Julius shows up.

[cheshyre]

On the other hand, he was also using language that was less than respectful to the head of a pure-blood family, let alone a patient. At one point he asked if both Draco's parents had been virgins the first time they had sex!

I just went back to Bloody But Unbowed to reread what exactly Harry said.

This is fun.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thanks! And I kind of hoped that would happen; some of the dialogue from the original is included, some isn't, in part to create that kind of varied impression.

[duchessa.livejournal.com]

I'm glad Harry doesn't know exactly what Draco and Lucius first thought of him. I'd be peeved with some of their assumptions. Draco isn't even trying to be unbiased- glad to see that glimmer of attraction though,even if it's only physical at this stage.

Harry and the Malfoys are like a whole different species altogether. It's very entertaining. I loved Narcissa's scene with Draco, brief as it is, and reference to Tarot. Harry does make a good fool - though he's not always oblivious...er.

I've gone ARRRRGH every time I reached the end of the chapter, especially since it's so close to Harry's 'smile attack' on Draco. Still fangirling this, and hope you update soon!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Harry could forgive Lucius more easily than Draco. Lucius wasn't the one planning to seduce him.

One of the hardest challenges will be showing how and why the Malfoys' perception of Harry changes when he casts the Heart's Blessing spell. It makes sense to them, but that's partly because it's instinctive and not something they need to explain to other people on a regular basis. I'll show them somewhat trying to think through it when they explain to Harry, though.

The Tarot reference surprised me. That's my first clue that there's more to Narcissa and Draco's relationship than I had planned in from the original.

And thanks! Another chapter should be up in two days.

[nimue-8.livejournal.com]

This is amazing!
It's wonderful to get a chance to see where the Malfoys are coming from.
"Bloody but Unbowed" was a rich story and I'm happy to revisit it with the Malfoys' point of view.

Oh, Draco! You got it all wrong and you don't know how much your opinion will change!
We have a good idea how much it will. Yet, I can't wait to read all the details and experiment his feelings as he does cahnge his mind.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

Draco certainly doesn't. At the moment it's unthinkable to him that Harry would ever really help the Malfoys, unless he's prodded and seduced into it.

[carollinali.livejournal.com]

You know, I can't help but grinn all the time as I go reading this. So fun!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Draco takes it all deadly seriously, of course, so I'm glad it's still fun.

[tray-la-la.livejournal.com]

this is just so great!!! it's so, so intriguing to get draco's pov as to the intricate web of pure-blood codes and customs. i'm really loving it! though i'm a little scared that draco might end up being a prat for a little longer than i thought him to be in the original....

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'll try to have Draco explain those customs in some more detail later. It's hard when he's always lived in the middle of them and doesn't have much reason to question them.

Well, he does change his mind when Harry saves his father. Whether the chapters will end up being exactly the same length and length of time elapsed, I don't know.

[kawanale.livejournal.com]

yay! here we go! funny how bloody but unbowed still remains in my mind so i am able to read this new story and recall exactly what is happening. hah. love it, oh yes!

*cackles in glee and throws sparkly glitter in the air*

I really gotta stop doing this, but somehow I can't. It's like a compulsion every time I read something and go "Hah! Take that!"

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm glad that the original is still such a strong presence for you.

Yay, sparkly glitter! *plays in it*

[ravenqueen55.livejournal.com]

Oh, I love those Malfoys.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm having a ton of fun writing them.

[star-faerie.livejournal.com]

Fantastic chapter!

It's interesting to read the other side of the conversation, to see what the Malfoy family were really thinking and feeling and not Harry's assumptions. I am quite amused at how they misread, so far, one another. This is a really fun story. I love it.

I look forward to reading more, and I think I will go back and read Bloody But Unbowed.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

Harry's assumptions were, in some cases, not far from the truth. He did notice some things Draco thinks he didn't notice. But yes, he had no idea what they were thinking of him (and he didn't really care as long as they didn't interfere with his treatment of Lucius).

[agr8fae.livejournal.com]

I do love a good frustrated and confused Draco!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

He's very fun to write!

[firedraygon97.livejournal.com]

Haha, so great! I like all the little side conversations we get between the Malfoys. I'm definitely looking forward to when Harry's ex's show up. Please write more soon!

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you!

Not as many side conversations so far as I'd planned, but there are some more coming later in the story, when Harry spends some time knocked out.

[gilith-ramaloce.livejournal.com]

For some, strange odd reason I didn't catch that chapter one was the sequel to the wonderful Bloody But Unbowed. Imagine my surprise to recognize this chapter as such. XD -is a little slow on the uptake- I like it though. I love how Draco is still immature because the truth depth of it didn't come through in the previous story.

[lomonaaeren.livejournal.com]

Thank you! And hee, I'm glad you decided to read it even not knowing that.

Draco can be very loving and self-sacrificing towards members of his family, but he goes out of his way to be a prat toward those outside it.