Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

Harry crossed to the edge of the circular depression and stared down into it, his face still quite blank. Draco looked at him, then turned back towards the door through which they had come. "Fleur

— "

He paused. And stared.

Fleur wasn´t there. And the door through which they had come had vanished.

He blinked his eyes shut, then opened them again.

The wall he faced was as smooth, flat and unmarked as if there had never been a door there at all.

Dracoś stomach turned over, hard. He didn´t know what was going on, but had a felling that whatever it was, he wasn´t going to like it.

He spun around and saw that Harry was still standing where he had been, motionless, staring into space. Gritting his teeth, he walked over to him and held out the Gryffindor sword. Without changing expression, Harry took it.

"Potter," Draco said. "We appear to have a problem."

Harry turned and gave him an unnervingly blank look. "I noticed.

Fleurś disappeared and so has the door. We appear to be locked in a room together. Again," he added, as if the concept was distasteful.

"I told you we couldn´t trust her."

"Potter — " Draco reached his hand out.

Harry hurled himself around, fists clenched. 'Don´t you touch me," he hissed. "Don´t even think about it."

Draco quickly retracted his hand.

"I had to do it," he said, in a flat voice. "You know that."

"Yeah. Whatever." Harry shook his head, looking Draco straight in the eye, and there was something in his expression that Draco hadn´t seen there in months — contempt. "Just shut up, Malfoy. I really don´t feel like hearing your voice right now."

"Are you planning on being hacked off about this forever?" Draco snapped.

"Yes," said Harry flatly. "Yes, that would be the plan as it stands now. Since I discarded the smashing-your-face-in plan as impracticable."

"Look." Draco swatted down his own rising irritation. "I´m — sorry."

Harry looked unimpressed. "Good for you."

Draco blinked, stunned. Stunned that he had apologized, and more stunned that Harry hadn´t accepted it. Wasn´t that a rule of apologies? Didn´t the other person have to accept them? Wasn´t that the point?

Apparently not.

"You just don´t get it, do you," added Harry. "I thought you were my friend," and there was, to Dracoś ears at least, less bitterness in his voice than disgust.

"I told you yesterday that I wasn´t," said Draco, his own anger suddenly rising to the surface. "Don´t you remember? Why are you acting like I stabbed you in the back? I didn´t."

"No, you stabbed me in the front. Good for you. Congratulations on not lying for once," Harry spat, "Malfoy."

The urge to hit Harry very, very hard was suddenly overwhelming.

Draco took a breath, trying to still the shaking in his hands. When he was younger, he used to shake with reaction after especially tense Quidditch matches — not just little shivers but prolonged hard tremors that wracked his entire body. He was shaking like that now.

If he tried to hit Harry, he would probably miss. Not that that was necessarily such a bad thing, considering — he wished there was some way he could tell the exact level of the Potion left in his blood.

He didn´t know what would happen when it wore off. Maybe nothing. Maybe -

Harryś voice pierced his thoughts. "Malfoy…"

Draco didn´t turn around, but he felt his teeth grind together.

"What? What do you want me to do, Potter?"

In answer, Harryś hand shot out and grabbed the back of his cloak, spinning him around roughly. He heard Harryś voice say, "Right now, I pretty much want you to panic."

Panic?

Draco stared. Something was emerging from the shadows at the far end of the room. Something huge. Something so enormous it was unreal, a monster out of a nightmare, out of legend, something that couldn´t possibly really exist…

But it did. It was nearly as big as a dragon and the shadow it cast on the wall behind it was twisted and grotesque. It had a lionś body, only much larger than any lion Draco had ever imagined. Leathery dragon wings were folded along its sides, and its huge, misshapen lionś head was crowned with a manś face the size of a giantś.

Foot-long sparkling claws extended from its paws, and its tail was not a tail at all but a long, supple-looking scorpionś barbed stinger which whipped back and forth with the speed of a striking snake as it advanced slowly towards them.

For once, Draco could think of absolutely nothing clever to say.

"What," said Harry very slowly, "the hell…is that?"

'Manticore," said Draco briefly, and raised his hand. "Accio!" His sword flew into his grasp. Harry was already holding his, but not with a lot of attention. He was staring at the manticore as it advanced on them. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Harry raise his hand, point it towards the monster -

"Stupefy!" he shouted.

The jet of light that shot from his fingers struck the manticore squarely in the chest. It roared and reared back, and as its huge shadow fell over them, Draco realized what the very odd falling sensation in his stomach actually was. Ah. I´m completely terrified.

He glared at Harry. "Well done, Potter. You´ve managed to piss it off. Did you know that its sting carries the most deadly poison known to man? Just thought I´d mention it."

Harry ignored him. He was looking at the monster with narrowed eyes. Itś too big for a Hex to kill it, isn´t it. Well, I killed a basilisk with this sword. I can kill this too.

Draco felt his jaw drop open. Harry, what?

I´m going to kill it. Harry gave him a final, disgusted look. You can stay here, and with that, he tightened his grip on his sword and raced towards the manticore as if he had completely lost his wits which, Draco pondered, he possibly had. Even the manticore seemed surprised, as if it couldn´t quite believe its eyes either. Draco didn´t blame it. People probably didn´t run towards it with great enthusiasm all that often. This most likely accounted for why it actually allowed Harry to get within striking distance. Draco watched in astonishment as Harry completed his race towards the manticore, and drove his sword into its chest.

The manticore roared, a terrible, earsplitting howl that sounded like a thousand trains pulling into a thousand stations all at once. It reared back and struck out with its paw, which sent Harry spinning into the air. He crashed into a wall, fell to the floor, and lay still.

Seizing the hilt of the sword with its teeth, the manticore yanked the blade out of its chest, spit it onto the floor, and advanced on Harry, its barbed stinger swishing furiously. Draco felt a jolt of cold spread up his arm from his own sword. If it could have spoken, he knew what it would say, Let it kill him.

Harry struggled to sit up; and then Draco couldn´t see his face as the manticore moved to block him…

Draco raised his hand. "Impedimenta!"

The Hex struck the monster in the side. It spun around, glaring furiously. Draco waved his arms. "Hey!" he yelled, although his mouth was very dry. "Over here! You big, hairy, uh, overgrown…get away from him!" He paused and blinked. Get away from him? I can´t believe I said that.

Harryś voice spoke in the back of his head. And neither can I.

But the manticore appeared to have no such problem suspending disbelief. It whirled, roared, and plunged towards Draco, its claws skittering along the marble. He stared, too afraid to even really feel any fear. He couldn´t imagine his fencing skills were going to do him any good at all, it was simply too big and too fast and too-It struck out at him with a paw. He threw himself flat and felt the claws whistle over his head. The manticore made a low rumbling sound deep in its chest — laughter. Itś playing with me, he thought in disbelief. Bastard. He sat up, and the next swipe knocked him flat again, the claws raking his shirt, drawing blood. Wincing, he rolled onto his back and looked up — to see the huge, poison-barbed tail arch back, and then whip forward towards his prone form with the speed of a striking snake. He had time to throw his arms over his face, time to think two words — deadly poison — and then something swished over his head, and there was a hard thwack as something else struck the ground next to him.