Кассандра Клэр - Draco Sinister

"Where is he?" muttered Lupin in Fleurś ear as they stalked purposefully down the corridor. Fleur led the way, a determined light in her eyes. "Whereś Slytherin?"

"I do not know," she replied firmly. "Nobody does. He left instructions that he was not to be disturbed, and nobody would dare disobey him, even if they could."

"Did Do you get the sense that he's was concerned about the army attackingoutside the walls?" Sirius demanded.

Fleur shook her head. "No. Whatever 'e is doing, 'e is not concerned about that."

"My guess is that heś about to make a last bid to reclaim his powers," Lupin said, as they turned a corner and came out into a large, circular room. "He knows perfectly well that at his full power, he could flatten such an army with a thought….what is that?"

Sirius stopped alongside his friend and stared. Instead of a roof, this room was open to the sky, except where it was crossed over by four metal chains joined together in the middle. And from the middle, a fifth chain of brass, each link as large as a cartwheel, dangled down into the room, connected by an S-shaped link to the centerpiece of the room: a huge serpent, as big as a house, made out of overlapping plates of copper and glass. It was coiled around and around a tall marble pole, topped with a carved marble skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth: a sculpted Dark Mark. Sirius could see through the transparent parts of the metal serpentś body to an intricate system of brass cogs and gears inside, turning in regular rhythm. Black steam puffed from its brazen nostrils, and fire flickered behind its huge empty eyes.

With a determined look, Fleur strode into the middle of the room, walking very quickly. As she moved towards it, the serpent began to slowly uncoil itself. Slowly its tail moved, extending outward towards her, sweeping across the floor. Fleur stepped over it, rucking up her sleeve as she went — Sirius saw her slender arm emerge from the white sleeve, the pale skin stained by the blister-black Mark just above the elbow — and then she raised her arm and pointed it at the serpent, her face contorted with intense concentration.

"Delenda!" she cried, and a bolt of green light shot from the Dark Mark on her arm, arrowed straight towards the mechanical snake, and disappeared down its throat.

As Sirius stared, transfixed by amazement, the green light from Fleurś Dark Mark vanished, and she collapsed silently to the floor in a crumpled heap. He looked sideways at Lupin, but his friend had already dashed forward, leaping over the serpentś coiled tail in his hurry to get to Fleur. The serpent made no move to stop him as he lifted the unconscious girl in his arms; indeed it seemed frozen in place. Sirius might even have said that it was wearing a surprised expression. Suddenly, its head drooped, and there was a thud inside it, as if something had exploded. A good deal of white smoke poured out of its joints, and bright flashes went off behind its eyes. With a tearing noise, it collapsed in on itself, scattering bits of glass and copper across the floor like bright confetti.

Fleurś eyes were open now, and when Lupin reached the door and Sirius, she said in a firm little voice, "Put me down now, please."

Sirius helped Lupin set her on her feet (and could have sworn she was blushing slightly); standing, she stared past them, transfixed, at the destroyed machinery of the dragon. Then, in a hushed small voice, she said, "Listen."

They listened. Sirius imagined that Lupin, with his extra-sensitive hearing, probably picked up on the noise before he did, but eventually

"The wards are gone," said Fleur. "The walls 'ave fallen down, and the castle is open to attack."

* * * * *

"Can I see him? Just for a minute?" Ginny begged.

Ben nodded. "If you like, but heś not awake; the mediwitch gave him a Red Verbena Potion for the pain. He won´t be waking up any time soon. Your brother is out of this war, for the time being, anyway." Ben touched her shoulder lightly. "Go on; I´ll be waiting here."

Ginny nodded and pushed the tent flap aside, and went in. Inside was a clean, well-lighted little room with white walls, a dark wooden floor, and in the center of the room, a bed. And on the bed lay Ron.

She walked over to the bedside and stood looking down at her brother for a moment. He lay on his back, his left hand heavily bandaged and stretched out beside him. She bit her lip. The moment they had landed the dragon in the clearing in front of the army camp, Ron had slid from its back, landed on the ground, and promptly fainted from the pain in his arm. Ginny had gasped when she´d seen the extent of his injury, and started screaming for Ben.

If she´d ever wondered what happened to an ordinary person who touched a Living Blade, now she knew. It was as if her brother had clasped his hand around a live coal: his palm and wrist were marked with a livid, bleeding burn in the shape of the sword hilt, and the imprint of the carved metal serpents had burned themselves into his skin, almost down to the bone. He had been shaking with pain and reaction until the mediwitch had given him some relaxation juice.

Now he lay quiet, flushed with sleep and fever, his red hair pasted to his forehead in sweaty locks.

Ginny leaned over and quickly kissed him on the temple, just where the silvery mark Rowena had left there was still shining. Then she straightened up and went out of the tent.

Her eyes were blurred with tears, and it was a few moments before she was able to focus on the fact that the person waiting for her outside the tent was not Ben, but Draco. He was leaning against one of the wooden tent supports, looking vaguely skittish, in that way that cats sometimes look, when they´re quite uncomfortable where they are but still refuse to move. His face was streaked with sweat and dirt, and his light silver eyes stood out in clear contrast. A little shiver ran up her spine at the memory of sitting on the dragon in front of him, feeling his arms around her and the muscles in his chest hard against her spine, his hands over hers on the reins.

"Ronś all right," she said, and scrubbed hard at her eyes with the back of her hand. "If you were wondering."

"I was wondering." Dracoś eyes were cool and remote. "I owe him now. Again."

"You saved his life, too," she said.

"Heś still two for one," said Draco.

"Yeah, yeah, and no Malfoy can owe a Weasley anything, family honor, blah blah blah," said Ginny irritably. "Whereś Ben? I want to talk to him."

Draco uncurled his arm and pointed a long, elegant, disdainful sort of finger in the direction of the next tent. "He went thataway," he said. "He said he´d be back soon."

"Soon? What does that mean, soon?"

Draco raised one eyebrow, which was something she´d always wished she could do. "Later than right now, earlier than never."

´"Thank you. How helpful."

The wind had picked up and blew Dracoś blond hair into his eyes; he pushed it away with an impatient hand. "I aim to please."

"Maybe you should aim a little lower, and try for being somewhat tolerable."

"Ouch," Draco straightened up, eyes sparking. "Aren´t we cranky, Weasley. And after our touching interlude last night, I rather thought you had feelings for me."

"I do have feelings for you," said Ginny firmly. "Feelings of loathing and great irritation."

"So you decided to fill the gap with Mr. Poncy Git in the leather tights?"

"They´re breeches," corrected Ginny. "And Ben is not a poncy git, heś the Heir of Gryffindor."

"Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor," snapped Draco. The cold wind had blown color into his cheeks. Either that, or he was more angry than he was letting on. "Do we need more than one? Do they come in six-packs?"

"These are Benś soldiers!" said Ginny heatedly, gesturing at the camp all around them. "I couldn´t have done any of this without him."