Of all the stories this author has to offer, the one of the serpents in love must be one of the most heartbreaking ones. Two lovers, both unwillingly fighting for the same tyrant but rivals nonetheless, whose fathers, blinded by their own thirst for power, prohibited them from even being friends.
When Draco son of Lucious, and Theodore, son of Tiberius, lived in adjourned houses, they grew fond and loved each other. Often meeting by the small river that divided their family’s lands, they would spend the days splashing on the shore, chasing each other through the woods, and playing childish games. Sometimes they would talk about arts, their newest gifts, and dreams for the future; never about their fathers, never about politics, never about the war.
As time passed the war grew bloodier and more violent as the regime their fathers were a part of gained ground over the country. And so, their encounters grew shorter, spaced in time as they were forced to bear the Serpent’s Insignia and fight for their emperor. Training became more intense and the pressure held above their heads started to feel unbearable. Deemed the most promising young men in the legion, their prideful fathers would constantly pin them against each other, forbidding them to continue their friendship. They didn’t comply. Of course they didn’t, for the passion that with equal strength inflamed their minds no parents could forbid. No relatives had guessed their secret love, for all their converse was by nods and signs in war rooms and as a smouldering fire may gather heat, the more it is smothered, so their love increased.
Then sometimes, they would join their brothers-in-arms in celebrations, sneaking with the few that, like them, didn’t choose this life. On other occasions, after specially harrying battles, they would steal a few, short hours under Selene’s light that they would spend between passionate touches and soft kisses, soothing words and loving promises they both knew were nearly impossible to keep, but that gave them strength anyway.
On those nights, as Theo fell asleep with Draco’s fingers tangled in his brown curls, the blond would look up at the sky and thank his mother. He never met her, but he knew that contrary to Ursa, Theo’s mother who joined Hade’s subjects too young, his wasn’t in his life because she was a Goddess and couldn’t get too involved in mortal affairs. Draco loved Theo with such fiercely that he was willing to give up anything for him, and then some more. It was only fitting that his name meant "a gift from the gods" for his presence in Draco’s life could not be explained if not by divine intervention. And so was his departure.
Those lucky enough to see them together would say their bond was blessed by the goddess Aphrodite herself, that the Gods would plaster their love in the stars, carved forever in the night sky. But whoever knew the Gods could attest: they were envious, spiteful beings, always eager to manipulate and play with the mortals, to taunt their destiny and their faith; especially those they were jealous of.
So it happened one faithful night that a black serpent appeared in Tiberius' chambers. At first, he tried to kill it, but something told him it wasn’t there to harm him, and when the snake started moving back to the door, he followed it. It guided him through the gardens and outside of his property until they got to a tall tree that marked the end of his land, and that’s when he saw them, asleep in each other’s arms. He turned to look for the snake but it was gone.
Rage coursed through him, blinding him, turning his veins pure fire. He could kill the blond devil that interfered with his plans of success right then and there, or he could kill them both and get rid of the bastard as well. But no, he had to be intelligent. He couldn’t harm them without facing gruesome consequences, they were the Dark Lord’s protegees after all. So, he decided on something much more fun and practical. Careful not to make a sound and wake the lovers and placed his wand against Draco’s temple and murmured a vicious spell. He saw the boy stir uncomfortable in his sleep, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched, his breath agitated before settling again in what looked like a peaceful dream. Satisfied with his work he turned around and left, a sinister smile plastered on his face during the whole way to his bed.
Either they would kill each other or one would kill the other and then face the Dark Lord’s punishment.
When morning came, Theo was woken by the first rays of sunrise. He looked up at his beloved, mesmerized by the way the light reflected on his hair, a halo making him look a god, totally dazzling. He traced his features with his digits, relishing in his smooth skin, the slight sharpness of his incipient beard, the almost unnoticeable cracks on his still swollen lips. With a smirk on his face, he propped himself up to kiss them again. But as his noses brushed, Draco’s eyes opened and they looked at him with panic and what he could only describe as pure hatred.
He pushed him away and jumped into a fighting position, his gaze clouded with cold rage, not a trace of warmth or love in them; it was like he didn’t recognize him at all. His wand was on his hand in such a swift motion even Theo’s trained eyes had trouble following it. The first spell took him out of his frozen state, all he could do was duck out of the way, the green light missing his chest by mere centimetres. He sheltered behind the tree and took out his own wand, not sure what to do with it, still shaken by this sudden attack. He felt the first spell hitting the trunk, the smell of smoke quickly followed.
Aimlessly he threw a couple of defensive spells while screaming at Draco, trying to rationalise with him, begging him to lower the wand, imploring him to recognize him. He murmured a prayer to the gods to help him, to save his love from whatever was affecting him, to not let it be his hand the one ending his lover’s life.
Finally, almost miraculously, one of his disarming spells hit Draco’s wand, sending it flying past Theo’s head. Relief washed over him as he ran to Draco, hoping to get him back from whatever nightmare his mind was conjuring, but before he could get any closer, Draco charged at him. He didn’t care his wand was missing, a silver dagger replaced its place in his hand.
He could have defended himself, he should have, but his father taught him very few non-lethal spells and, at that moment, with Draco just a metre in front of him none of them seemed appropriate and he couldn’t even imagine hurting him. He dropped his wand and received the blonde with open arms. His breath cached as the blade pierced through flesh and bone, straight to his heart. His lungs rapidly filled with blood and he could taste the iron as he tried to inhale and retain oxygen.
He saw the moment Draco’s eyes cleared and he recognized him, horror plastered all over his face as realization sunk in. He choked a sob and let go of the knife as it burned him and took Theo in his arms, apologizing over and over again, he tried to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, but it was impossible with the blood in his mouth and being out of breath, all he could do was clean the tears as the fell of his silver eyes, shivering with each kiss Draco left in his palm when it brushed his lips.
“Oh, my love” Draco lamented, “you have fallen in your prime, defrauded of your youth. Oh, Theodore!” he whimpered “I can see in your sad wound my own guilt, and you are my cause of grief”
And then Theo’s legs faltered, no longer able to support his weight, and Draco held him tight, gently lowering both of them to the ground. He hugged him to his chest, caressing his cheeks, his forehead, his hair. Begging him to breathe, to fight, to stay awake, to stay. But he couldn’t.
Theo closed his eyes and didn’t open them again.
Draco let out a tortuous scream, and there was such anguish in it that even the nymphs mourned his loss. He sobbed, he cried out loud, he cursed everything and everyone that could have ever interfered with their love. He cursed their fathers, he cursed the emperor, that snake-faced tyrant, he cursed the Gods.
Down on his knees and mad with grief he looked at the sky and prayed to those deities that already failed him to please bring him back, to change their destiny, to have back the only person whose company he craved. Then he called out for his mother.
He never met her, but he knew she loved him and that she dreaded his fate even more than he did. He was sure of it. He would receive gifts here and there, his path would change drastically for no apparent reason, and he would be protected on the battlefield, a constant presence keeping him away from harm.
He opened his eyes and there she was, materialized out of thin air. He always thought he was a carbon copy of his father, but seeing her now, he could recognize himself in her features. His hair and eyes were the colour of the Malfoys, but the texture and the shape were hers, and her mouth matched his. She looked at him with sorrow, a mother who knew too well what would happen to his child.
“My dragon” she called him, her voice a soothing balm for his wounded heart. “Can I persuade you to take another path?” she pleaded.
He shook his head.
“He was everything I had” he sobbed.
She nodded looking at Theo’s lifeless body. Such a loving young man with such a short life. She could only hope his journey took him to the Elysium.
“You want justice”.
“I want revenge” he corrected; venom tainted his every word. “If justice is served along the way it’ll be for your grace, Mother”.
Narcissa sighed and walked to him, cupping his face in her hands. “My brave dragon” she whispered, gently stroking his cheeks, and he leaned into her touch, starved of such a simple but loving gesture. “I shouldn’t be meddling in this war, but since someone else already interfered and dared to hurt you” she placed a kiss on his forehead, her lips lingering a little longer than needed. When she pulled away, he could see her eyes watered; “make the whole world burn if necessary”
And just like she appeared, she was gone.
Draco didn’t feel the change until he was in the air, swarming through the sky. He knew he wasn’t human anymore, his conscience dormant, his pain numbed, his instincts sharp. The only thing he knew was that he had a city to burn to the ground, and an empire to end. But first, one name repeated itself in his brain, the damning words of his spell still fresh in his ears.
He saw the house that was never considered a home and growled, pure hatred invading his senses. The first fire breath surrounded the building, nobody could come in or out. He exhaled again and the north wing exploded and he came out. Draco felt so much satisfaction seeing the terror in the man’s face, it matched his son’s when Draco attacked him, but it lacked the hurting he saw in those emerald eyes. He roared in agony and spat his fire again, flames engulfing Tiberius whole, he didn’t even have time to scream in pain.
It wasn’t long until he got to his own Villa, the place that stopped feeling warm too long ago. He didn’t bother much, he just blew the whole thing up, no life could get out after that.
He then made his way to the city, burning the green and silver banners on his way to the fortress. Curses and spells followed him, some were able to hit him, but the magic in his scales protected him from the majority of them. He burned every single one of them, their screams music to his ears. When he got to the walls he was waiting for him, the tyrant that ruined his childhood, the reason that his father forbidden him to even speak to the love of his life, the face that haunted his every dream. There wasn’t fear in his eyes, more like surprise, maybe astonishment.
He charged at him, his elder wand succeeding in making bigger, deathlier lacerations. He roared fire, turning everything around them to ashes, but the Dark Lord remained untouched by the flames, while his spells did had a toll on Draco. But the Dark Lord wasn’t pleased, as now he could see concern in his eyes, as if defeating Draco had proven to be more difficult than what he had expected. So Draco continued he was injured, but he was relentless; he was furious and heartbroken and he had nothing left to lose.
Then he heard it, the Avada. He braced for the final blow but it didn’t came, instead the green lightning broke through the wand, bouncing back straight through Voldemort’s chest. His body fell with an almost silent thump. Eyes, lifeless, staring at the sky. Draco didn’t hesitate, hi let the flames to consume everything, starting with the falling tyrant.
The fly back was tortuous, his injuries were bleeding and they became worse as he felt the magic fading. He tumbledown their tree, careful not to fall above Theo. As his body came back to normal, he fell to his knees. Every part of him was hurting, but he reach out anyway, combing through Theo’s curls, cleaning the blood off his face.
“It’s done, love” he whispered, pressing a kiss on his lips. “Now we can both rest”.
He laid down next to him and placed his head on his chest, conjuring the memory of a heartbeat that encompassed his own. He then closed his eyes, and like Theo, he never opened them again.
Raindrops fell like tears and the thunders sounded like lamenting moaning, like the whole sky was mourning the passing of the tragic lovers, probably it was, alongside with the mother goddess who lost the only child she ever bearded and would ever bear. By the time night arrived, the sky cleared itself wearing the deepest shade of blue and the brightest of stars came together to create two new constellations. The brave dragon was the centre of attention, at it’s side, and near the constellation that gave his mother her name, the young bear found it’s home at last.