Genre: Angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 21k Warning(s): Character death (not Harry or Draco), dub-con (not between Harry and Draco) Tags: War time, Disability!fic, mental illness, Caring/Nursing, vet!Harry, social worker!Draco
Summary:
In a Great Britain destroyed by war and plagued by magical epidemics, those who are left behind struggle to survive and find meaning.
Quotes:
"So, you and your father want to betray Voldemort?"
"Yes."
Potter looks wary, but confused - Draco drank enough Veritaserum for three men, and he couldn't possibly be lying. In the room next to this, his father is doing the same: spilling his guts, drugged, to the Minister of Magic and Prime Minister Blair.
"And it's because you want revenge for your mother's death?"
"Yes."
At least he doesn't have to go into detail about this; at least Potter didn't ask how, precisely, she died. At least he didn't ask if it was the Dark Lord who killed her.
"All right." Potter sighs, rubbing his temples; he doesn't seem quite so hostile any more. "I'm sorry," he adds softly, surprising Draco, and maybe even himself.
"And you say you know how he suddenly got so much more powerful, and why some people started losing their magic temporarily?"
"Yes, the two go together ..."
Draco tells it all: how the Dark Lord had found an ancient ritual for the darkest, most forbidden Blood Magic that would allow someone to bind the magic of all their relatives to themselves. How he'd made all Death Eaters perform the ritual, enabling them to draw from the magic of every witch and wizard they were related to, no matter how distantly. How he then had altered the spell to be able to draw from each of his followers by using their blood - and consequently from all bound to them.
"But wouldn't the Death Eaters who're related all draw from each other, then? Like, you from your parents, and the other way round?"
"No." It had been their first concern as well. "Everyone who's performed the ritual is exempt from the effects."
"Right. And why doesn't if affect me? I mean, my father was a Pureblood, I'm sure I'm somehow related to some Death Eaters."
"That's what annoyed him - he'd expected he could affect you too, but it didn't work because of your connection, and because none of us could draw from him, we couldn't do it with you either. He said that for him, it would be the same as if trying to steal magic from himself; it can't be done. He couldn't steal from himself, because he has to use his magic willingly. And you'd have to give yours willingly for him to use it."
"When Hell freezes over!"
Potter scowls darkly. He doesn't like this at all, it's obvious, but there's worse to come. Draco can predict his next question, and he won't like the answer at all.
"Can it be reverted? Could we somehow undo the spell?"
"No, not against his will. He'll be able to draw from others until he dies or reverts the ritual himself."
"But there has to be a way!"
"There is."
"We can do something?" Leaning forward, Potter looks eager for him to go on, and Draco wishes he could tell him something else.
"Only you can, because neither he nor any Death Eater can affect you, even if they got some of your blood. You'd have to do the ritual as well, but bind more magic to you than he could."
"WHAT?" With a loud clatter, Potter's chair falls over as he jumps up, staring at Draco in shock.
"It's the only way: to become more powerful than him and destroy him. And you can only become powerful enough if you draw from others."
"Never!" Potter looks outraged. "That's ... disgusting! Like ... vampirism or something. It's wrong!"
"Yes. But it's a war, Potter. Haven't you noticed?"
Potter's fist connects with his chin with a sharp, blinding pain. There's something warm running down Draco's chin and neck and he can taste blood in his mouth. When he's able to see straight again, Potter is kneeling on the ground with his face in his hands.
"You're not lying," he whispers, horrified. " You can't. You're telling the truth - that is the only way, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"I can't do it. There has to be something else, something you don't know."
"There isn't. You don't have a choice."
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