Watching Lucius stand in front of him, Draco wasn't sure what he'd prefer: his father or Voldemort. He stared hard at the silver mask before him, unwilling to show his fear, unwilling to let his father have any kind of power over him anymore. He stared, remembering every moment that mask featured in his life, remembering every moment he'd faced his father this way. He was filled with hate and terror and pain, and they all made it difficult to think beyond his father before him and the threat hanging over him. Yet, it wasn't so consuming that he didn't register Voldemort's order.

"Severus, bring young Harry up here to me. A front row seat is a wonderful gift, don't you agree?"

"Yes, my lord."

Draco could hear the tightness in Snape's voice, wondered how Voldemort didn't hear it, and his eyes flicked to the right at a Death Eater's movement. Robed and masked, he watched as Snape approached Harry next to him, wishing he could see the man's face, wishing he could see the comfort he'd come to associate with the professor. He wished they were home. He saw Voldemort flick his wand and heard Harry's chains rattle before Snape grabbed for the Gryffindor.

"Come on, Potter," Snape growled.

"Get off me, you son of a bitch," Harry snapped as Snape grasped the chain still connected to the collar and dragged him roughly to his feet. Draco watched Harry struggle even with his hands bound behind his back, needing to keep up the façade of Snape being the enemy. Draco understood; they would not be the reason Snape was discovered and murdered. If anyone was going to die, it would be them, not Snape, not after everything he'd done for them and been through. His life of sacrifice would not be for nothing.

Despite knowing it was all an act, Draco still felt a defensive urge to react when Snape lengthened the chain and gave it just enough slack to step down hard on, viciously yanking Harry to the floor by the throat. He ground his teeth at the cry Harry released as he crashed to the marble on his shoulder, coughing and wheezing at the assault on his esophagus.

"Behave, boy," Snape taunted and pulled Harry back to his feet.

Draco watched as Harry was shoved to his knees beside Voldemort and facing the hall. The chain connected to the collar was affixed to the floor and Snape fisted Harry's hair, pulling the Gryffindor's head up. Draco met Harry's eyes, seeing resolve but also fear in the green orbs. How he wished he could reach out with his magic to both comfort Harry, and feel Harry and Snape, feel their safety and care. He had no idea how they could get out of this, if they could, and he just wanted to feel them, feel home.

"Begin, Lucius," Voldemort said. "You have our utmost attention."

Draco was flooded with fear and wanted to whimper as he snapped his gaze back to his father hidden behind that so-familiar mask. He'd known this was coming, known one day he would be back in his father's hands, but he still wasn't ready. He knew what his father could do, would do, and he knew he wasn't meant to survive, not this time. His heart pounded and he gasped involuntarily as the chains on his ankles and neck were removed. His hands were brought to his front and then over his head as the chain reached up to the tall ceiling, pulling him to his toes. A strip of material wrapped around his head, effectively gagging him, and his breathing sped up.

Lucius leaned in close, his mouth at Draco's ear. "Welcome home, my son."

Draco shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut as Lucius circled him, tapping his back with his wand and making his shirt fall from his torso in multiple pieces. He felt Lucius' wand trace down his back and clutched at the chain he was suspended from, knowing what was coming. He opened his eyes to look at Harry again, taking in the support he found there. He wasn't alone. No one could stop this, but he wasn't alone. Despite being unable to see through the mask, he also moved his eyes up to Snape, imagining he could see the protective affection just as the first lash snapped across his bare back. He shut his eyes tight, flinched, and gasped around his gag at the sharp agony, all while knowing it was far from over.

A second lash fell and he groaned. A third and he whimpered. By the tenth, he was screaming, muffled through his gag. By the twentieth, he was sobbing and he could feel the blood pouring hot down his tattered back. The reprieve from the lashing wasn't long as a brutal Cruciatus ripped through his body, making him spasm and scream. It ended and he sagged, the shackles digging into his wrists from his weight, and his head fell against his arm with a whimper.

"I raised you to be stronger than this, Draco," Lucius said, walking around to stand in front of Draco again. "How disappointing. Imagine what your mother would think."

Draco opened his eyes to glower hatefully at Lucius' silver face. He had little care for his mother-she certainly hadn't had any for him-but he did still feel guilt over her murder. It had happened because of him. This was all because of him. If Harry died, it was because of him. If Snape died, it was because of him.

His guilt was pushed aside as the collar around his neck began to tighten, cutting off precious oxygen. He gasped and choked, trying desperately to get any air as his lungs burned and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. His vision was nearly black when the pressure was finally released and he heaved in the air rushing painfully back into his lungs, coughing and sobbing around his gag. He choked on a scream as a Cruciatus quickly followed up his near suffocation.

His head fell forward limply onto his chest as it ended, his entire body twitching as his nerves continued to burn. Again, there was little reprieve as the shackles around his wrists quickly warmed to an unbearable degree. He cried out as he felt the skin on his wrists burn and melt, his head growing light from the pain, his body steadily going into shock.

"Alive, Lucius," Voldemort reminded. "I must have their magic before they die."

"Yes, my lord," Lucius said and Draco cracked his eyes open to glare at his father. "Such a shame, to lose what you could have been, all that wasted time."

Draco so badly wanted to snap back, to tell his father that he was never going to be what Lucius wanted and Lucius should have killed him long ago. He so badly wanted to tell Lucius that he was the weak one, choosing a barely-human madman over his own son. He so badly wanted to tell Lucius that the time was wasted because it had been used to torment rather than love. He so badly wanted to tell Lucius that he'd found what Lucius had so easily pushed aside, the love of a parent, and he'd found it outside of the blood Lucius claimed to be so damned important. He so badly wanted to tell Lucius that he would be the one to kill the man. 

It was a sudden resolve if he were to survive.

He wouldn't live in the shadow of Lucius stalking him, not anymore.

He would kill his father one day.

"One final lesson," Lucius whispered and the barely-healed wound on Draco's sternum was slowly opened.

Draco jerked at the pain and screamed brokenly, tears pouring down his face and blood down his chest. He felt the familiar, simultaneous cutting and burning as he was sliced open for the hundredth time in his life. Only, Lucius didn't stop once at the bottom of the laceration. He traced it again and again, making it deeper and deeper. Draco shook violently and howled around his gag as he felt Lucius begin carving into his breast bone.

"That is enough, Lucius," Voldemort interrupted and Draco found himself collapsing to the floor as he was released from the ceiling. "One more reward before our celebration. Severus. The floor is yours and young Harry's, for your years of loyal service."

Draco wasn't left in his heap long. He was dragged physically to his knees by Lucius where the chains returned, wrapping around his ankles and connecting to the collar. His hands were shackled in front of him and affixed to the stone between his knees. He hovered on the edge of consciousness, hardly able to remain upright and just aware enough to know what he was about to witness next to him to someone he loved at the hands of someone else he loved. He was aware enough to finally admit to the emotion he'd been feeling for weeks, maybe even months. He was aware enough to finally admit it just in time to lose it.

"It will be my pleasure," Snape purred behind him. "Thank you, my lord."

Harry's heart was liable to beat out of his chest as Draco collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood before being restrained back on his knees, and Voldemort announced it was his and Snape's turn. He knew they had to keep up the act, had to protect Snape's cover, but it didn't make it any easier to accept he was about to be tortured by the man he cared so much for. He didn't blame Snape for what was about to happen and he hoped Snape wouldn't blame himself either. He hoped Leif and Alexei would be able to help Snape once he and Draco were gone, because he and Draco were going to die; he didn't want the man alone again.

He was brought back to what was about to happen by their act beginning when Snape threw him forward by the hair, making him tumble across the floor with a groan, unable to catch himself with his hands still bound behind his back. He was dragged to his feet by the chain connected to his collar and was arranged in the same position Draco had been in, complete with gag. He pulled against the chains and tried to yell through his gag, knowing it was expected he fight back against Snape. He gasped when he was aggressively backhanded, feeling his bottom lip split.

"I have waited a very long time for this," Snape murmured and Harry turned his head to glare insincerely at Snape's mask-covered face. He could just barely see the man's dark eyes, wishing he could pull comfort from them like he normally did. He hated to admit that he did feel some fear, knowing what Snape was likely capable of to have been able to last this long as a spy. He hated to admit that he was finding himself afraid of the man, just a little bit.

He had little more time to wish for the Snape he knew as the man began slashing his wand through the air and batches of lacerations opened up all over Harry's torso, arms, neck, and face. He ground his teeth together to stop from crying out, flinching at every cut. Through it all, he was aware that none of the cuts were too deep and none landed anywhere vital. Even in this dangerous situation, Snape was trying to protect him, no matter the risk.

Eventually, the cutting stopped and Harry was left breathless, blood trickling from every wound. His hands tightened around the chain keeping him suspended as Snape moved behind him and fisted his hair again, yanking his head back viciously. Harry groaned at the treatment, eyes darting around the dark ceiling, unable to see anything else, as Snape leaned in next to his ear.

"You have been a thorn in my side for five years," Snape snarled quietly. "I would like to respond in kind."

Harry wasn't quite sure he knew what Snape meant by that, but he was sure it wasn't about to be anything good. He stared hard at his hands clutching the chain, trying to remind himself that Snape didn't mean it and would only cause damage that could be easily healed. His heart was pounding hard and his breathing shaky as he waited for the next round of torture.

"Let me see," Snape whispered. "What have you done to make my life hell?"

Harry closed his eyes, repeating to himself that it wasn't real, that Snape was drawing on their past to convince Voldemort.

"Perhaps your strutting about, so much like your despicable father."

The feeling of something small and sharp, like a needle or nail or the aforementioned proverbial thorn, sinking into the bottom of his foot made him jerk and pulled a short, muffled shout from him. The feeling repeated itself again and again, and Harry was struggling not to scream at the increasing pain as it felt like thorns sunk into the entirety of the bottoms of his feet. Tears, however, poured down his cheeks and his fingers were white on the chain over his head. His breathing was hard and loud as it ended, his chest hitching with each one.

"Or your infant hands, incapable of performing the simplest task."

Harry expected a stabbing feeling in his palms, but was taken by painful surprise when, instead, it felt like the sharp thorn was sliding under his fingernail. He moaned and whimpered and devolved into harsh sobs, the pain almost too much. It was nearly rivalling the kinds of things his uncle did to him. A thorn slid under every nail, bringing him to the edge of screaming, and then it stopped.

His hair was finally released and his head fell forward onto his hitching chest. He felt Snape move, coming to stand in front of him again. He grunted when Snape gripped his chin hard enough to bruise and forced his head up, their eyes meeting. Snape was close enough now that Harry could see the black eyes through the mask and, while it was still difficult to identify anything with the rest of the man's face concealed, Harry was certain he could see pain there. Even though he knew his eyes were glazed, red, and teary, he tried to communicate back with them, tried to tell the man that it was okay, that he could take it, that it wasn't Snape's fault.

"Or your eyes. An insult to her that they belong to you," Snape sneered before leaning in close. "I'm sorry," he whispered so quietly, Harry almost didn't hear, but he did and the plea made more tears fall, breaking something inside him. How he wished they could all be at Prince Manor, at home, instead of in this place where they were probably going to die or someone would be left alone.

Through the distracting pain, he could just barely feel his magic fluttering again as though trying to break free and react to something. He only had that split second to notice his magic as Snape's next act took hold.

This time, when the stabbing feeling returned in his eyes, he couldn't stop from screaming around the gag. It felt like sharp thorns were sliding into his eyes, but it's not what he was experiencing visually. His vision turned cloudy as though there was a film over his eyes, reducing their clarity. He could still see, but everything was blurred and dulled in colour, as though he'd had his glasses removed.

Though it seemed to last forever, the torture eventually ended, leaving him partially blind and quivering with the agony inflicted on him. He sobbed quietly and then released a shuddering scream as a Cruciatus ripped through him, his fingers spasming around the chain and his body writhing in the air. It was held for so long, he felt blood leave his ears and he bit through his tongue, flooding his mouth with the taste of rusty iron.

He was eventually released from the curse and dropped from the ceiling, making him collapse to the marble just as Draco had. Also like Draco, he was forced back to his knees instantly, chains around his ankles and connected to his collar, and hands bound in front of him. He wobbled on his knees, fighting to stay up. He raised his eyes to glare at the blurry figure of Voldemort as the madman rose from his throne, and he heard the click of his shoes as he approached him and Draco.

"Before we move onto the celebration, there is one punishment I must deliver as well," Voldemort announced.

Harry tensed as murmurs echoed around him and Draco from the Death Eaters. His and Draco's torture had been rewards for Snape and Lucius. What would be the punishment and for who? He tried to calm his breathing and racing heart to focus on listening to Voldemort as the wizard slowly circled him and Draco again. He hated having Voldemort behind him where he couldn't see.

"You see, Harry and I have a...special connection," Voldemort said as though explaining something wonderful. "Not only will it allow me to take your magic and any magic connected to yours, but it also provides me with a special place in your mind."

Harry flinched and tried to jerk away from the cold fingers that stroked along the back of his neck lightly. He shuddered as they danced up the side of his face to his temple, grinding his teeth down on the gag.

"There is a place in here where I can move and be, a place even that impressive wall of fire can't reach."

Harry's breathing began to speed up again as Voldemort's dangerously taunting monologue continued, his thoughts jumping to the paths Voldemort could take. He shivered under the continued tapping of his temple.

"In this place, I can watch," Voldemort whispered into his ear. "I...can...see."

"I see you!"

Harry flinched almost violently at the voice screaming in his head, the voice from weeks of lost dreams. His breathing became hard and painful as the dreams returned, and he tumbled down the path Voldemort was leading him down.

"What do you think I've seen, Harry?" Voldemort breathed. "What did you believe was secret?"

"I see you!"

A flash of the prophecy, three strands of tangled magic illuminating it.

A flash of the prophecy, black fractals consuming it.

A flash of Harry and Draco laughing and playing chess.

A flash of a hug.

A flash of happiness.

A flash of love.

A flash of Severus Snape.

No.

No, it wasn't true. They'd been careful. No one could possibly know. Voldemort was bluffing.

"Severus," Voldemort hissed. "Join us."

No!

Harry's blurred eyes snapped to the cloaked figure that came to stand in front of him and Draco again. He could feel himself getting lightheaded from his rapid breathing and panicked heartbeat. The fingers dropped from his temple to curl around his shoulder threateningly.

"Was it worth it, Severus?" Voldemort asked.

"My lord?"

"Was it worth it to abandon all I have and could have given you for boys you not only helped to torture, but will now watch die?" Voldemort said and Harry's eyes widened.

Through his cloudy vision, Harry saw the dark figure that was Snape move and something hit the floor. The man's mask, Harry realized. It made his stomach sink. If Snape was removing his mask, it was because he knew he was caught and there was no point in continuing the act. Snape was preparing to die.

"The prophecies were not the only things Lucius retrieved from the Archives," Voldemort said. "In fact, your archivist friend fought harder to hide these than the prophecies."

There was a flutter of parchment.

"I'd seen it, but this proved it," Voldemort spat. "Severus Snape, the guardian of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter."

Insistent whispering washed over the Death Eaters.

"Now, I have to ask, how much can you truly care about them given what you just did simply because I asked?"

There was no response, just an increase in the hushed muttering among the Death Eaters. Voldemort finally released Harry's shoulder and walked around him, presumably coming to stand behind Snape.

"I know you, Severus. You made the wrong choice and you know it. This is what you are. You enjoyed what you did to Harry, didn't you?" Voldemort taunted. "You enjoyed it because you don't care about them. You can't. You enjoyed it because you know you belong to me."

"You're wrong," Snape finally said stiffly.

"Ah, well, I suppose we'll never know," Voldemort said flippantly and there was a grunt as Snape suddenly fell hard to his knees, Harry hearing the crunch his bones made on the marble floor.

Even through his fuzzy vision, Harry could make out the pale shape that was Snape's face, telling him the man had been forced to his knees facing Harry and Draco.

"Finally, time for our celebration," Voldemort said and he returned to stand behind Harry and Draco. Harry struggled and jerked in his chains as Voldemort's hand came to rest on the back of his neck, hearing chains rattle and mumbled curses from Draco next to him. "The magic of the world and the magic of the gods, mine to wield."

Voldemort's hand moved to fist his hair and yanked his head back. He heard a gasp from Draco and knew it had been done to him as well.

Voldemort lowered his head between them to whisper, "I will bleed you and then kill him, and you will watch it happen."

And then, it started.

Harry could only describe the feeling as a barbed hook scraping along his core as it ripped at his magic that was fluttering in panic. He started screaming around his gag at the agony immediately, echoed by Draco beside him. With every bit of his magic that was torn away, an emptiness was left behind, an emptiness that began consuming every other bit of life within him, including what he realized was his Life Bond with Snape and Draco. As his Elemental Magic was drained away, the Life Bond was slowly extinguished, everything connecting them steadily dying.

Harry pulled at the shackles around his wrists desperately as he cried, tears hot on his cheeks as chills began to befall his body. The cold reached down to his bones and water began rushing in his ears while more hot fluid joined his tears. Metallic tears trickled into his mouth and his struggles slowed, his body growing heavy.

Unbidden, images began flashing behind his eyelids. Every moment with Snape and Draco played with a haze around the edges as though proving to him they would only remain memories, that there would be no future moments added. He watched the fighting turn to helping, the shoves and punches turn to hugs, the fear and loneliness turn to comfort, the hurt and hate turn to care...affection...love.

He wept brokenly, sinking into the pain of Voldemort's draining and of the life he'd found only to lose.

As he watched his life from the last six months, his magic jumped and leapt and sparked, fighting to get off the hook, and the air around him was thickening with electric power. A pulse from the hook deep inside him tore another piece from him and he wailed through the agony, feeling himself sink further away into the abyss left behind to swallow his life. He sobbed, knowing he was dying, that Draco and Snape were dying, and it was all because of him. Draco screaming and Snape shouting broke through the heavy haze falling over his mind and beginning to cloud his memories.

"I will kill you, you son of a bitch!" Snape was shouting, voice strangled as his magic was pulled away with Harry's and Draco's.

"I am not the one dying tonight," Voldemort said and Snape devolved into tortured screams, his chains rattling as he writhed. Harry could hardly see what was happening, but the blob he knew was Snape was contorting on the ground in front of him, and smears of red appeared amongst the blurred black and white. The screaming didn't stop, the contorting didn't stop, the draining didn't stop...it was never going to stop.

No!

As Harry screamed the word in his head, a burst of magic exploded from him, hot and strong. He heard shouts and glass cracking, and felt the iron around his wrists and ankles crumble. The excruciating pull on his magic stopped and he fought to get his focus, his strength. He ripped the gag from his mouth and fumbled at the collar still keeping him chained to the floor.

"Your magic is mine, Potter!" Voldemort roared and Harry turned just in time for Voldemort to shove him to the floor on his back, hand around his throat. "Let me show you what you'll lose!"

Harry was struggling against Voldemort, kicking and clawing at his strangling hand when he was suddenly pulled into his mind, or what he thought was his mind. He was looking at himself and Draco, sitting on either side of a coffee table as they played chess, and then they were joined by Snape sitting on the sofa behind Harry. It was a normal scene, an event that was so casual it had happened multiple times, but his focus was forced on Snape. The man was doing nothing except sipping a glass of wine with a book in his lap, seemingly reading and not paying Harry and Draco any attention. Except, the longer he was forced to look, the more he noticed. Snape's eyes constantly drifted over them. His lips twitched and curled into a small, gentle smile. The lines typically in his face smoothed out. Then, glittery threads joined in, swimming calmly around and dancing together. Then, the emotion, pure and encompassing.

"Love," Voldemort sneered, pulling even harder at their magic and Harry was pulled back to the present. He gazed up into Voldemort's eyes, the madman close enough he could see. The red eyes were gleaming, but not with anger or evil the way they typically did. No, they were glittering, the stolen magic forcibly joining his core. His eyes were glimmering with pure power. "What has love ever gotten you, Harry? Dead parents, dead friends, a life of loneliness? I know, Harry, I know what it's like. We could share this power. You could live, at my side. Love will not save you."

Love and protection...

Harry didn't know where the voice came from, but he felt a pulse in his magic that had nothing to do with Voldemort's draining.

"Your future lies with me," Voldemort hissed. "Our bond is stronger. Our bond could rule."

Do not let the bond break...love and protection make the bond...love and protection will save the bond.

Harry cried out as the barbed hook sunk into his magic deeper, ripping at it even more viciously even as it jerked to escape, adding another layer of pain. Draco wailed beside him. Snape screamed above him.

Love and protection will save the bond.

Harry fought through the pain, fought through the draining, fought through the pit swallowing him, and forced his attention on his jumping magic and the ball he knew was his Life Bond. As the screaming continued around him and more tears were put into his magic and the bond, he pulled back. He wrapped himself around his Elemental Magic, not bothering to wonder why his access was restored, and pulled in the opposite direction of Voldemort, trying to make the hook release. He felt the hook drag through his magic as though it were flesh, tearing it. It was agonizing and his consciousness was waning, but he kept pulling, kept fighting.

He was fading. The hook was buried deep. It was destroying his magic, their bond. Both were in tatters that were fluttering, attempting to repair themselves even as Voldemort continued ripping at him. As he weakened, as he faded, as he lost, the memory of two days earlier floated before his eyes.

"Brothers."

Love and protection...

Something rushed over him. What it was, he had no idea. Perhaps it was adrenaline, perhaps it was the last push of his body to live, perhaps it was magic...

Whatever it was, he acted. There was little room for actual thought, his body acting on pure, ending-life instinct. He took one hand from Voldemort's and threw it out, clawing across the smooth marble, feeling the sticky blood that still sat beneath them. It caked under his fingernails as he searched.

Then, he found it.

Draco's hand fell into his and magic tore around the hall like a hurricane, washing over them all like a deadly wave. There were yells of shock, shattering glass, tearing fabric, cracking marble. Voldemort's grip on his throat and weight over him disappeared. A knife tore through his skull. His skin was electric. His body was vibrating. Waves of pure magic crashed away from him, shaking the entire hall.

There was a strange creaking, tinkling sound that Harry could just barely hear. He tried to identify it through the overload of sensations, barely noticing the insistent tugging on his hand.

"Harry, move!"

There was a loud sound, like iron scraping stone, and Harry rolled towards Draco without thinking. He couldn't see it, but he felt the chandelier crash to the floor behind him, felt its jewels explode into dust, some larger chunks embedding themselves in his back. His Elemental Magic was swirling like a tornado and he could feel Draco's Aether Magic mixed with his along with an undertone of Snape's. 

Harry was still fighting to control the sensations bombarding him, stopping his thoughts and awareness from being clear. He felt Draco's hand still tangled with his, neither of them able or willing to release the other. 

"I will take everything from you!" Voldemort roared.

Harry had no idea where the wizard was, his head light and spinning with the sheer power raging inside him and washing away from him. He barely felt the hands that tangled in his tattered shirt, not having any idea what they were doing.

"You are mine, Severus!"

"Live!" a voice breathed insistently before the hands were torn away from him.

A scream echoed through the chaotic hall again. Harry wanted to go to it, wanted to do something as he felt his and Draco's magic fight to hold Snape's, to do something. They could do nothing, however, particularly not when the familiar tug took them away. They could do nothing but yell as they were forced to leave him behind.

"Severus!"