Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

Dracoś mind darted about, seeking possible avenues of escape. He knew from his father that it was a very bad idea to make bargains with demons, or bargains with anyone. In fact Malfoys don´t bargain was one of the Malfoy family rules, ever since one of his ancestors back in 1630 had sold his soul to the devil in exchange for being made Chief Warlock, with unforeseen consequences. And wasn´t that how his father had died? Torn to pieces by a demon-Banishing spell gone wrong; he´d seen it in the Prophet.

Come on, Malfoy. Harry again. Itś better to live one hour as a tiger than a whole lifetime as a worm. Thatś an old Gryffindor saying.

Oh yeah? Well thereś an old Malfoy saying, too. It goes "Who ever heard of a wormskin rug"?

Do something, said Harry, sounding determined. Or I will.

Draco took a look at Harry, blood-splattered and fiercely determined, his green eyes burning like suns. This was the Harry that had faced down Voldemort in a duel, the Harry that had killed a basilisk with a sword when he was twelve years old, the Harry who always won at Quidditch because he was just that little bit less afraid. Only that Harry faced danger because he had to; this Harry seemed…to want to.

Draco turned back to the demons. "What kind of bargain?"

The demon explained the original bargain between the forces of Hell and the Snake Lord. The explanation involved a certain amount of conjuring of ancient contracts with print so small that Draco imagined ants would have had a hard time reading the text. The demonic signature on the bottom was enflamed, and next to it was Slytherin's own black seal, the same skull with the serpent coming from its mouth that Draco could feel on his own left arm.

"See, here it says clearly that if we have to make more than two trips to collect the sword, further penalties will accrue," the demon noted as Draco tried to read some of the clauses. "Then, there are interest payments, terms of use, a very specific privacy clause which has prevented us from publicizing the terms of the agreement in the Daily Prophet, and do you see this?"

Draco squinted at the text. "The warranty disclaimer? Why would anyone sign a bargain with Hell without even a guarantee that what they were bargaining for wasn't going to break the first time he used it?"

"He did have a thirty day trial period, and there's a pretty good indemnification clause in there," the demon insisted, sounding aggrieved. Draco shook his head in disbelief. "But all of that is from times that have passed, mortal boy. The completion of the bargain is now at issue."

"Slytherin told me that until the Orb is opened and his life-spark released, you can´t find him, and cannot take either the sword to meet the original bargain or his life, to cover the interest and penalties."

"He was correct," the demon said coldly.

"He also said," Draco said slowly, "that if he freely selects and presents to you the life of a Magid Heir who has Slytherin blood, then he can retrieve his powers from the Orb and keep the sword. Is that correct too?" The demon nodded, and Draco considered the import of the contract's terms. "I know I can die, I did it last week.

And you say Harry can be killed now too?"

The demon nodded again.

"So we have to open the Orb," said Draco slowly.

"If you do not, we cannot take the Snake Lord, and if we cannot take him, we cannot take the sword," said the demons. "We cannot even take it from you now, or believe us, we would have done so." His voice was bitter. "We want the sword. It is our right to hold it and our obligation to claim it. We have no use for Magids, and do not want you or your friend. In exchange for the boon your mother granted our fellow, we have agreed to grant you one moment of opportunity to fulfill this bargain in the manner of your choice."

Draco looked over at Harry. Harry was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking sulky, and generally being of no help. Draco turned back to the demons. "If you have no use for Magids, then why do you want Slytherin?" he demanded.

The demon grinned, showing that in fact it had not two but three rows of razor-sharp teeth. "Vengeance," it said. "He cheated us. In Hell, his torments will be excruciating and very…extensive."

"Good," said Draco, nodding nodded. "If we open the Orb, you will be summoned to take him?" he said.

"Immediately," said the demons. "If you open the Orb, we will be summoned. We will reveal to you then how you If you can cause Slytherin to return the sword to us by his own hand, then the bargain will be fulfilled, and we will take the sacrifice as you choose it. We would prefer that you allow us to take the Snake Lord. Of course, if he reaches the Orb before you such a return occurs… we will be forced to take our sacrifice as he offers it — either your blood, or the Gryffindorś."

The demonś words were cold, precise and exact. Draco turned them over in his mind. Demons, he knew, did not lie; at least not when conducting bargains, but there were often several shades of meaning to their statements. In this case, however, there seemed no choice but to trust them.

"Itś a deal," he said.

Behind him Harry was muttering something about people who went around making deals with demons for no good reason. He was muttering quietly, however. Earlier he had made a bit of an attempt to rush forward and Draco had stiff-armed him back into the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

"We do realize the near impossibility of your task," said the demon, grinning with all its sets of teeth showing. "But even the sliver of a chance is better than none."

Draco shrugged. The sword was a comforting weight in his hand. He could sense the demonś greedy gaze upon it. "My father used to say, 'If you fall off a cliff, you might as well try to teach yourself to fly on the way down.´"

"What does that mean?" the demon demanded, blinking.

"No idea," said Draco. "I was hoping you would tell me."

The demon smiled again. "You do fancy yourself clever, and so you are," it said. "If we must take an Heir in the end, I do hope itś you," he added, looking at Draco directly. "I somehow imagine you could well keep the Master entertained. The colors of Hell would suit you, too. All that black and scarlet, with your fairness and silver hair.

Lovely."

Draco wondered for a fleeting moment if the demon was hitting on him. Then he decided that that was very unlikely. It was merely trying to frighten him, and had succeeded, with a rather vivid and unpleasant mental image of a land beyond a black gate, where the sky was always blood-colored, a place much worse than the one where he had met Lily and James Potter.

"I doubt Hell ever welcomes anyone," he said thoughtfully. Beside him, Harry looked at him, and he saw a flicker of something pass across his green eyes.

The demon raised its hand, and gestured towards the wall. The dark opening appeared there again as it had for Slytherin. "When we are summoned again, we will be paid," said the demon. "If not with the sword, then with blood."

They vanished, without even the decency of the * pop* of Disapparation to lessen the eerieness.

"Well, that was informative," he said, turning around to look at Harry. And jumped as a sudden shimmering rainbow refraction painted the wall on the opposite side of the room. It blurred, and without any warning, Sirius, Ron and Hermione appeared out of the wall, stepping forward as if they stepped through a door.

Draco blinked, but the vision stayed steady. It was Sirius, Ron and Hermione. They were filthy, but looked unharmed. He barely had a chance to get a look at them, though, before Harry bolted around him and ran towards them. Sirius, grinning hugely, threw his arms around Harry and hugged him so hard that Harryś feet lifted up off the floor. When Sirius put him down Hermione and Ron fell on him, and they all embraced each other in a flurry of arms and excited chatter.