Biting Revelations

                                    

                                          
They all walked towards the glass doors, leading to the gardens.  With anticipation, anxiety, and a touch of fear, as they knew what was coming.  But that was the extent of what they knew.  For instance, they didn't know if Harry would be allowed to fight back, and even so, would he?  They didn't know if he had to make the snake angry to incur a bite, and if that was the case, how would he do it?  They were scared. For Harry.
Draco was ashamed.  The feelings he had just had about Harry being disgusted were wrong, or at least he hoped they were.  He decided to give himself just tonight to figure out what they were going to do moving forward.  The rules about not speaking the name, before having the mark, were playing on his mind. Harry hadn't spoken his name, so that must mean, he either was still going to, or, he was unsure.  But the kiss.  The kiss felt so damn real, like it was meant to be.  Draco shook his head as his mother put her hand on his forearm and told him to relax.  Everything is as it should be.
Relax.  How can his mother tell him to relax.  The love of his life was going to get bitten by a VERY poisonous snake, in front of people, and they could do nothing but watch.  It was disturbing.  It was nauseating.  It was unfair.  Why Harry?  Why not some other idiot, who lived half way across the world.  Why his Harry?  He looked at his mother, and just nodded his blond head, as if to say I am relaxed woman.
Dumbledore, Snape, Lucius, Blaise and Pansy were standing to one side.  The garden furniture was pristine in the night sky, with the big oak just to the right of the garden.  If you were quiet enough, you would be able to hear nothing, but just the faint sounds of nocturnal creatures.  The croaking of toads, bats flapping their wings, trying to get food, and of course the sound of water from the creek left of the house.  And there, at the base of the tree, was Harry.
Still in his white denim, he was looking up at the tree, as if he was expecting something or someone.  His torso was glistening with sweat, like the start of another fever.  He was so tired of the fevers, he would give anything to have them be over, and if what it took, was a snake bite, he was ok with that.  But that presented a new problem.  The actual bite.  He knew the one similarity of all poisons, was that before you died, the fever was said to be unbearable.  It felt like your body was on fire.  Too hot to the touch.  And hadn't he had enough of that already.
He knew that everyone in the house was standing behind him.  He could sense their different magical signatures.  This ritual or whatever it was called, needed witnesses.  He didn't know how he knew, he just did, and he accepted it.  He no longer felt shame at what they had to see, but an anticipation of how they would perceive him, when they saw it.  When they saw the change take hold of him, he in no way wanted them to bow to him.  He would forbid it.  But they had to know that he was still Harry first.  Until the mark, he had to be.  It was imperative.
He turned and looked at all of them slowly, waiting for someone to speak.  To say something that would wake him up from this very vivid, very weird dream.  But that was not to happen.  Dumbledore looking calm, as always.  Snape pacing on the grass, like he wished for it to be over.  Same dude, thought Harry.  Lucius looking green, because how can they just allow this to happen.  Narcissa looking with wonder, but scared at the same time.  A clever woman that, he thought again and smiled to himself.  Pansy looking worried, not for Harry, but for Draco. Blaise looking like he was saying, rather you than me. And then he turned his attention to Draco.
Draco looking terrified, chewing on his bottom lip, hating that Harry had to go through something like this, just to prove his worth to their world.  Hadn't he done that already?  His heart was pure.  His soul was kind.  His hands were warm, and those eyes.  Oh Gods, those bloody eyes.  Those lips.  Those lips had kissed him so softly, and then so demanding. He wanted more. He could feel Harry looking at him, and suddenly met his gaze.  So green.  Like emeralds.  Like the hills of the forest.  He could look into them forever, and nothing else would matter.  He didn't have the strength or the courage to smile, so he just looked.  Until Harry opened his mouth to speak to all of them, and he listened.