Кассандра Клэр - Draco Dormiens

Harry held up his wand. "I have this," he said. "You don't dare duel with me while I have this."

"No," Voldemort agreed, and snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of the air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry, binding his wand arm to his body.

Voldemort walked up to him, plucked the wand out of his hand, and threw it on the floor. "And now you don't have it any more." He stood up and looked thoughtfully at Sirius and Hermione. "I could kill your friends," he said softly into Harry's ear. "But it would be so much more fun to let you do it."

Harry said nothing, only looked at the Dark Lord with hatred.

Voldemort snapped his fingers again and the Lacertus flew out of Lucius' grasp and landed in his own outstretched hand. Despite being so thin, the Dark Lord was very strong. He spun the Lacertus in one hand as if it had been a baton, then lifted Harry's arm- the one that was not bound to his side — and shoved the Lacertus down over his wrist as if it had been nothing more than an enormous, ill-fitting glove.

Harry screamed out loud. The ropes binding him fell away, and he crumpled to the ground, not yelling any more but writhing as if the arm were white-hot and burned him. Draco could see the metal rippling and twisting as if it were melting, fitting itself to Harry's own flesh, spreading white-metal tendrils all up and down his arm like vicious bracelets.

Draco clapped his own hand to his arm in sympathetic pain. He didn't know he was doing it, but he did it just the same.

Finally Harry sat up. And even the Death Eaters gasped. Harry's arm had become a thing of metal and blades and ugly death. The silver of the Lacertus arm had spread far enough over his body to grip the left side of his chest. There was a sort of halo of black light around him — a reverse-halo, glimmering and dark. His skin glowed white under its negative light; his eyes glittered like emeralds. He looked inhuman.

Draco heard Hermione choke on a dry sort of sob.

"Harry," said the Dark Lord in a purring sort of voice. "What are you?"

"I am nothing," said Harry, in an odd, distant voice. "I am yours."

The Dark Lord grinned and turned to Lucius. "I'm not sure we even need the Imperius Curse here," he said. "But better safe than sorry."

He raised his wand, pointed it at Harry. "Imperio!"

Harry bent his head as the jet of green light struck him. When he raised it again, his eyes looked even more unfocused.

"Now," said Voldemort. "Now. Harry, turn the Arm on…her." He pointed at Hermione. "Your little girlfriend. Go ahead. Do it."

Harry turned. He raised the arm, whose metal blade-fingers were closed into a fist, and pointed it at Hermione, who stared at him with wide-open eyes. Then he said: "And you said I was stupid."

He whirled around again, and this time the Lacertus was pointing straight at Voldemort and the little knot of Death Eaters gathered around him. He started to walk towards them, slowly, as if it took great effort. They all gaped at him.

"You know the Imperius curse doesn't work on me," said Harry. "And you should know better than to arm your enemy with a deadly weapon."

"It is hardly deadly to me," said Voldemort sharply. "You idiotic boy."

"Maybe," said Harry. "Maybe not."

And he opened his hand.

The silver blades whirred apart, and from his metal palm erupted a jet of bluish light. Its force was so great that Harry staggered backward. Draco threw himself to the ground as a tongue of blue fire whipped over his head, striking the far wall and knocking over a display case of antique swords, which rained down with a clatter.

Harry fell on his knees, but he was still directing the light towards Lucius and the Death Eaters. Draco saw the light strike first one, then the rest of the Death Eaters and heard them scream as it whipped around them like Voldemort's ropes had whipped around Harry. One by one, they were jerked off their feet, Lucius included — they howled, and vanished.

Voldemort was the last to go. He seemed to be hanging on just from the sheer force of his hatred of Harry. But Harry raised his arm and pointed it again at the Dark Lord, and he, too, was whirled away.

The blue light vanished with him. And Harry crumpled to the ground as if he had been shot.

Draco struggled to his feet and started to run over to Harry. Hermione got there before he did, though, and flung herself down next to him. He looked like he was out cold. She grabbed hold of the ugly metal arm and began running her wand frantically over it.

Draco reached over to help steady Harry's arm, but Hermione, looking white and desperate, snapped, "Don't touch him!"

Draco jerked his hand back.

There was a flash of white light from the tip of Hermione's wand, and the metal Lacertus arm vanished. Harry began to stir.

Hermione's shoulders sagged in relief. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, not looking at Draco. "It's just — the arm was draining his strength, it would have killed him in a minute. I had to get it off him."

"That wasn't the Lacertus curse," said Draco flatly. Why wouldn´t she look at him?

"No," said Hermione, still looking down at Harry. "No. We changed it. But the arm is was still a very dangerous Transfigured object, and using it could easily have killed him."

A large tear ran down her nose and plonked onto Harry's face. Harry opened his eyes.

"Quit that," he said hoarsely.

Hermione grinned at him. Harry grinned back.

"You were amazing, Harry," she said. "You really were."

Sirius, who had come loping up, sat down by Harry and grabbed his hand. "That was fantastic," he said. "Really fantastic, Harry, congratulations."

Harry sat up slowly. He was still very pale, but color was beginning to come back to his face. "We still have to get out of here, though, don't we," he said matter-of-factly. "Hermione, you said the spell wasn't permanent?"

She shook her head. "It was just a very strong Whirlwind Charm in place of the killing spell the Lacertus usually uses," she said. "It won't kill them at all — but it'll keep them away for a good long time. And eventually it'll dump them down somewhere random. I hope it dumps Voldemort into the piranha tank at the zoo," she added angrily.

Draco thought he should say something, but wasn't sure what. He probably ought to thank Harry for saving his life. But Harry and Hermione were busy grinning at each other like idiots, and then there was Sirius, whacking Harry on the back and treating him like he was some sort of hero. Well okay, Draco admitted, Harry was kind of a hero. Although of course he wouldn´t have been in a position to need his life saved if he hadn't been pretending he was Harry in the first place, in order to save Hermione's life. For which she had not thanked him. In fact, she hadn't even acknowledged it.

Feelings he thought he had forgotten, left behind, came flooding back. Jealousy and rage and gnawing fear. Neither Harry nor Hermione would look at him — they thought he had betrayed them — they were disgusted with him-"Potter," he said shortly. He reached into his pocket, took out Harry's glasses, and dropped them onto Harry's lap. "Your specs."

Harry glanced up. "Thanks, Malfoy," he said. But his eyes were wary.

This only increased Draco's anger. "Go on," he said. "Ask me."

"Ask you what?" said Harry, looking even warier now.

"If Voldemort tortured me to get me to tell him where you were," Draco said.

"You've been wondering. So ask."

"Don't," said Hermione sharply. But neither of them was listening to her. They were looking at each other, green eyes locked on gray.

"Well," said Harry. "Did he?"

"No," said Draco.

There was a long silence.

Draco said, "You saved my life, Potter." He jerked his chin toward Hermione. "But I saved her life. Which in my mind makes us even."