Redepmtion of the Blood on Ao3
Chapter 9 fragment of the story (Yes. Slow burn)
Draco was breathing in short bursts. He was on his knees, palms pressed to the floor. His sweat was cold and his hair was sticking to his forehead.
“Come on, Draco, it’s not so bad.” Pansy said, trying to encourage him from where she stood beside him. Her own legs were trembling slightly.
“I’d love to have your optimism, Pans.” he murmured, pushing himself slowly back to his feet, then looked at Sirius.
“I’ve already told you, you need to break the habit of throwing up magical shields when you hear an Unforgivable.” Sirius said, leaning forward to help him to his feet completely. “You have to dodge it physically, or use whatever’s around you.”
“Oh, I didn’t realise it was that simple. Now that I know, perhaps I’ll manage it perfectly.” Draco said, rolling his eyes with perfect sarcasm.
“Right, I think we’re done with the Cruciatus for today.” Sirius gave him a firm pat on the shoulder and stepped back. “Let’s move on to the Imperius.”
Draco exhaled with relief and turned to go back to his position. It was then that he noticed the training room door standing half-open… and Harry Potter, standing behind it, with skin so pale it was nearly white and eyes so wide they looked about to fall from his face.
“What are you doing here?” Draco snapped, covering the distance to the door in two strides.
The humiliation of having been seen by Potter—even for a single second—writhing and crying out in pain when the Cruciatus caught him was worse than anything he could have imagined.
“You said-” Potter blinked, clearly struggling with what he’d just seen. “You said you’d be back in an hour-”
“And you thought that gave you the right to spy on our training?” Draco narrowed his eyes.
“I just-” He looked at Draco, then at Pansy, then at Theo. Both of them looked as bad as Draco. Skin with a greenish cast from the residual effects of the curse. Then his eyes went to Sirius, and something in them shifted to a growing, burning anger.
When they reached the small sitting room on the upper floor, Draco shut the door and turned to face Potter.
“You’d better have made yourself useful.” He pointed his wand directly at his face. “Legilimens!”
Potter’s mind reacted strangely. It felt like a strong wind all around him, and then, as he adjusted to it, the image became clear.
He was flying on a broom, as though trying to outrun the shadow that was Draco’s mind.
It took the Slytherin just over a minute to break through, long enough to find the pattern of the flight path.
The image that came was the last one he would have chosen to see.
Potter slowly pushed open the door to the training room and at that exact moment, the Cruciatus curse caught Draco before he could pull one of the training dummies into its path.
The scream from the Draco in the memory was devastating. His back arched violently and he crumpled to his knees.
“Enough!” Potter shouted, throwing him out of his mind.
Draco exhaled and let himself fall into the nearest armchair, trying to push the image away.
“You’re on the right track. The flying idea is interesting. But speaking as someone who’s flown against you for years, I can tell you it won’t take long to learn your patterns. So either you learn to vary them, or you adapt the shield. Understood?”
Potter simply looked at him and leaned forward. “You’re pale.” His expression was neutral, but his eyes were overflowing with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Did you even hear the feedback I just gave you?” Draco looked at him with weary exasperation.
“I heard. Less predictable.” He nodded once. “Are you all right?” he insisted.
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