New Fic - Moments - H/D R or NC-17
Sep. 26th, 2005 03:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wook77While writing Voice in the Dark, I hit an angsty moment in my life. So, this is what came out of it. It's slightly dark and depending on your view, I may have missed a warning. I don't want to influence your take on the story, so I shan't say anymore. Concrit always welcome.
Title: Moments
Rating: Hard R or soft NC-17
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Word Count: 6401
Excerpt (in lieu of a summary) - “ ‘I love you.’ The words weren’t often spoken between the lovers. They seemed to vow forever when today was sometimes too much of a struggle to promise. The war hung over the two like a cloud but right now, the world seemed to disappear. Right now, Draco’s steady heartbeat brought Harry peace. He was warm and secure that the future would work out for the best for both of them. Even more, Harry didn’t think of Prophecies, Horcruxes, Dark Lords or corrupted followers.”
Warnings: Angst, Torture, slightly dark!fic
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is not mine. I am not JKR, I am not Trent Reznor, therefore I own nothing, not even my car or my house.
A/N: Title themes taken from Nine Inch Nail’s “Eraser (polite)” from Further Down the Spiral. This is NOT a songfic.
ETA: Posted to TheHexFiles
ETA 2: This story has been pulled from The Hex Files. I apologise for the inconvenience.
The body on the floor lay curled in on itself. Had it not been the size of an adult, a viewer could almost be forgiven for assuming that it was a baby, fresh from the womb. It was naked, covered in blood and bodily fluids. There was not much hair left on the head. It was virtually unrecognizable.
That is, it was virtually unrecognizable except for the lightening bolt-shaped scar on its forehead. Harry Potter lay in the basement of a manor house in the middle of nowhere. He had no clue how long he’d lain there, shaking and shivering in the cold seeping up through the blocks of stone in the floor.
Manacles hung on the walls. Other manacles swung from side to side off the altar in the center of the room. There was no breeze to cause these cuffs to drift and it was a macabre scene when Harry woke. At first, though, he passed out quickly so he only caught brief snatches. The blood on the floor, walls and altar glittered in the light flickering from the sconces on the walls and the candles arrayed over the altar. The wax dripped almost rhythmically.
The air still crackled and sizzled with magic. The scent of scorched flesh was all around and Harry thanked whatever god in his or her mercy had him acclimated to the smell so that he wouldn’t gag up the nothing in his stomach.
Every time Harry woke, he’d stay conscious just a little bit longer. Each time, he’d pray to whatever god might be listening to either end his misery or give him the strength to save himself. He didn’t care which at this point. Finally, Harry felt strong enough to try to move. Movement wasn’t large to start. During one brief period of consciousness, Harry wiggled his toes and his fingers. The next one, he rolled his ankles and his wrists. He felt a sense of accomplishment when he was able to bend his knee and elbow.
When he tried to move the knee currently resting on the ground, it scraped painfully across the stones. The pain made him gag and he dry-heaved until the wave passed. Surprisingly, he stayed conscious throughout the entire time. With slow, tenuous movements, Harry put his palm flat on the ground and started to push himself upright. His arm shook with the effort as he panted in pain. The entire process seemed to take hours to Harry but ultimately, he was sitting upright, swaying back and forth as his weak arms tried to support his weight.
A mirthless grin swept across his face as he realized he should have tried to push himself back against a wall before sitting up. As it was, he was sweating and completely out of breath. The wheezing rattle scared him.
As he thought about the quality of his breath, he noticed the blood dripping into his left eye. His right wrist throbbed but it didn’t seem to be broken. His right knee was swollen past the thickness of his thigh. The worst, though, was the fact that his entire chest pulsed in time with the flow of his blood. He could feel at least three broken ribs. When he went to rub the blood out of his eye, he flinched. It felt like his cheekbone was broken. The tips of his fingers carefully probed the rest of his face until he determined it was just the one cheekbone.
He could see a door but it was on the opposite side of the room, a full fifteen feet from where he swayed. The door could have been in Timbuktu for all he was able to reach it. A desperate bark of laughter echoed through the room. It came back to him distorted and darker.
The echoing sound sobered him. Harry quickly went through all of his options. The first no longer appealed to him now that he’d been conscious this long. He was unwilling to just give up and die. The second was to get through that door. The third was to stay where he was and hope someone came for him.
With no idea how long he’d been there, Harry decided on the second option. Eyes focused on the door, not on the altar in the center of the room and especially not on the blood splattered chains swinging. He had to stop constantly for rest.
As he neared the door, it opened and a vision entered. The wavering entity wore a pair of dragon-hide boots. A long slow look up drifted past the boots, the robe covered legs and torso, the white blonde hair brushing the shoulders and reached the one face he thought never to see again. A sad smile twisted the lips.
“Need you.” His words slurred together as he lost consciousness.
~~**~~
The only thing Harry Potter ever wanted in his life was to be loved. He wanted, more than anything, to have someone or even better, a lot of someones that loved him so much that they would never think to put him in a closet or order him about as if he were a slave. His dreams came true, he had friends that loved him unconditionally, an adopted family and a lover.
The first two, everyone in the Wizarding World understood. The lover, on the other hand, no one could quite comprehend. For Harry, Draco Malfoy, boyhood rival, was the best part, the brightest light in his world. The two men completed each other completely, an almost symbiotic yin/yang relationship. Harry, himself, was a loss to explain why the two seemed to fit so well. Even more, he didn’t quite understand what he did to deserve this light. He’d been denied so many times that he expected to be slapped in the face, to have whatever he wanted to be ripped from his hands. The more he cared, the more he held onto what he cared about, the stronger and more painfully it was ripped from him.
Right now, though, it was at times like this that Harry felt his happiest. Harry and Draco were currently lying in a bed in a house in the middle of nowhere. It was supposedly a secured location that only a precious few could find. The mattress was firm and the sheets were a soft cotton. There weren’t many pillows. Most important of all, everything was clean and safe.
Harry was currently lying on his side and drawing lazy circles on Draco’s chest with his index finger. He’d just woken up from a nap. His hair was sleep tousled but, if he were to ask Draco, it didn’t look much different from his everyday mess. As he lay there, he didn’t feel self conscious in the least in his nudity. His head was propped on one arm while his legs ached to tangle with Draco’s. The circles didn’t stop forming as one grey-blue eye cracked open to glare at Harry.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The words were crisply spoken. Harry only smirked in the face of the ire in front of him.
“I missed you.” Softly spoken words testified the depths of his feelings and betrayed his fears.
“I’m right here, Harry.” Harry could tell that Draco was not in the mood to cajole or cater to Harry’s odd mood. Harry only sighed in response to Draco’s sharp tone.
“You won’t be one day and I want to fill up on as much of you as I can.” Draco grabbed Harry’s hand as it traced another endless circle. Pale hands pulled the work-roughened hand up his torso until it rested over his heart. Harry could feel the warmth from the cold looking skin seep into his palm. The heartbeat underneath his hand reassured him a bit. Draco’s words reassured him more.
“I’ll always be here, Harry. I don’t know what to say to you to make you believe that. I’m here, I’ll be here.” Draco’s voice finally echoed the softness in Harry’s voice. The pale hands pulled at the trapped sun-kissed hand until Harry was laying in a sprawl over Draco.
“I love you.” The words weren’t often spoken between the lovers. They seemed to vow forever when today was sometimes too much of a struggle to promise. The war hung over the two like a cloud but right now, the world seemed to disappear. Right now, Draco’s steady heartbeat brought Harry peace. He was warm and secure that the future would work out for the best for both of them. Even more, Harry didn’t think of Prophecies, Horcruxes, Dark Lords or corrupted followers. The bed was as far as the world extended and the two continued to whisper nonsense to each other as they lay entwined.
Eventually, the whispers tapered off as kisses were exchanged. These soft butterfly kisses reassured while at the same time promising things that neither were sure they could deliver. Bodies pressed closer in desperation that the world might intrude and separate them. Hands grasped at each other, stroking and pulling ever closer to each other. There was no desperation, no fear and no aggression between them at this moment, there was only love and a need for each other. Finally, the two were so close that a viewer would be hard pressed to say where one started and the other ended.
“I love you.” The words echoed again and again through the encounter. They were said in so many different ways; a plea, a promise, a demand, a tribute, a cry, a shout. Neither could remember who said it which way.
“Better?” Draco’s voice rolled across Harry’s skin and caused him to shiver as the room went colder. Suddenly, the bed didn’t seem like a beautiful world unto itself. It started to change into something more sinister. The sheets became cold prisons trapping Harry. The mattress hardened and chilled.
When Harry turned to look at Draco, he couldn’t see him. He was alone in a dark room, metal rattling eerily as he searched the darkness frantically. There was no mattress under him. Hard cold stone lay underneath his naked body. The love fled his body, taking shelter far away from the harshness of this reality.
As he started to sob, his knees curved towards his chest, scraping across the stone. His palms pressed together as he tucked his hands between his knees. His chest heaved and shivered as the cold of the stone seeped further into his soul.
His sobs echoed as he whispered a broken scream, “Dream you.”
~~**~~
Harry ran through the maze. A roar of a Sphinx could be heard in the distance, the snarl of a manticore came from nearby and a row over, the hedgerow caught on fire from a blast-ended skrewt. Harry kept running, knowing if he stopped, he would never escape, never finish his task.
Finally, the pathway widened and there was a bright light in front of him. It was blinding in its glory. Harry shifted his body to the left, crouching while hiding his head behind his arm. He shied away from the light until he heard a song resonating from within it.
Slowly, he stood upright and lowered his hand. With a trace of Gryffindor courage, he stepped into the light. He had to pass through this section to get to his goal. The light was warm and his heart sighed as he walked further into the light. He was no longer blinded by the light, instead, it seemed to embrace him and push him further and further. There were tendrils of brighter and dimmer light hanging in front of him, almost a forest of light.
When he paused for a small break, he saw a figure ahead of him. A young child, he couldn’t tell whether it was a male or female, stood behind a very long tendril of light. The child was unnerving in its stillness. Harry took a step towards the child and it darted further on the path. Again, as Harry paused, the child stood and stared. With the light glinting off the hair of the child as if it were a halo, Harry could see the short hair and build of a young boy, possibly eleven. The child held a lantern in its hand as it guided Harry through the light.
The child left him at a full veil of light. After parting it, he came into a field, carpeted in lush green grass that shone in the bright sunshine. The air was warm. The sky was a crystal blue with a few wispy clouds. There were mountains at the edge of his perception.
Further into the field, there was a huge tree. Underneath the tree, Harry could make out something reflecting the sunlight. He started walking towards the tree. As he neared, he could see the branches, covered with deep green foliage shimmy in the light breeze. Standing, looking towards him, was a blonde-haired man. At the sight of the slim man, Harry picked up the pace until he was running full-tilt.
Harry could see him smiling as he approached. When he reached the sheltering embrace of the tree, he slowed and stopped. His stare never wavered as he took in the man in front of him. The white blonde hair gleamed in the sunshine. Below the cascade of hair was an angular face with grey-blue eyes and full lips. There was a slight fault in the nose, where it had been broken by a hex.
The rest of the man was just as familiar to Harry as the face. There were the hands that had clasped his own countless times. There was the collarbone he liked to push his nose into; while further down was the heart that beat out his passion and his peace.
“Draco?” The name was asked like a prayer, spoken like a benediction. The man nodded. “I’ve missed you.”
The happiness in Draco’s smile turned to melancholia. Harry felt his own heart start to collapse under the sadness on the face.
“I know you have, love. I’ve missed you too.” Harry started to approach, hands outstretched, reaching, waiting for Draco to reach out his own hands. A small shake of his head and Draco refused the gesture.
“Where are we?” Draco’s smile disappeared. Harry’s heart folded even further.
“You can’t stay, Harry.” Draco turned his back on Harry. He bent over and picked up something from the ground. Harry started to shake as he saw the item. “Take this.” Draco thrust the goblet from the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Harry.
Harry backed up, hands warding off the offensive item. “I can’t, Draco. Why are you doing this?”
Draco pushed the goblet into Harry’s chest. As the black-haired man felt the familiar tug of a portkey, he heard Draco cry out after him, “Live for me!”
Harry woke shivering on the floor, no longer facing the door. Instead, he faced the altar. The manacles swung rhythmically in front of him. Their gleam dulled by splatters of blood, Harry finally noticed the hand flung out, draped over the side. It was the bright white of a corpse. He denied its presence as he tried to back up towards the door, his only thought was escape from that hand.
He sobbed, “Find you.”
~~**~~
Harry learned how horrible the world could be when he was fourteen. Up until that point, he viewed his encounters with Voldemort as adventures. They were similar to the stories of knights, dragons and fair ladies that his Aunt Petunia would read to his cousin, Dudley. When he was fourteen, however, he watched evil rise from the dead in a parody of the Christ story he’d heard in a church his Aunt Petunia had dragged him to at Easter.
Harry learned how wonderful the world could be when he was eighteen. Up until that point, he had had mild flirtations and one great affair with Ginny Weasley. They all paled when he discovered the joys, trials and tribulations of loving Draco Malfoy.
Love was tempestuous at first. The storm of love battered him, tossed him to and fro until it finally shipwrecked him on an island. This wasn’t a bad thing, in Harry’s opinion, because the only other occupant on this island was Draco. They had weathered the storm of each other to finally become a true pair.
Harry remembered the path it took to get them to the point of love. They had always had their disagreements and arguments while at Hogwarts. However, when Dumbledore was killed, both Harry and Draco were forced to grow up and realize that their petty schoolyard bickering needed to change. There were two paths for them to take, enemies or allies.
They tried the enemies as Harry continued his search for the Horcruxes. They had a smattering of skirmishes when they encountered each other. Neither, not since the Sectumsempra incident in the bathroom, ever cast a strong curse at each other. Every time Harry went to cast a strong hex or curse at Draco, he remembered the crying in the bathroom and he remembered the bleeding. He couldn’t hurt Draco that way again.
Eventually, Harry realized why he couldn’t curse Draco. Without Draco pushing him, goading him, Harry was failing. His drive to succeed was waning as the search went through what would have been his Seventh Year, and well into the summer.
On Harry’s eighteenth birthday, Harry came back to Godric’s Hollow to discover Draco Malfoy lying in Harry’s bed. The blonde was wearing a smirk as Harry approached with his wand at the read.
“What are you doing here, Malfoy?”
“What do you think, Potter?” Harry had always secretly admired how Draco would say his name, as if it were a profanity.
“I think you’re lounging in my bed. Other than that, I have no idea why you’re here.” Draco cocked an eyebrow at Harry before sliding towards the edge.
“Do you like me here?” Harry only smirked back.
“I like you at the end of my wand.” Draco’s leaned his head back and let out a bark of laughter. As the laughter subsided, he stood up and sauntered towards Harry. For his part, Harry watched his approach with trepidation. As his face became more fearful, Draco’s grin increased. Finally, Draco was standing with the tip of Harry’s wand digging into his chest.
“I like being at the end of your wand.” A slow glance down and back up Harry’s body set his blood on fire. “I’m at your mercy, Potter.” Draco leaned in and kissed Harry. As Draco’s arms slipped around Harry’s neck, Harry dropped his wand and dug his hands into the slim man’s hips.
“Sweet Merlin, it’s been too long, Harry.” Draco breathed into Harry’s neck as they broke apart. Small nips followed the admission.
“Don’t disappear like that again, please. My heart can’t take not knowing where you are. I need you, Dray.” Harry captured Draco’s lips once more.
This time, when the kiss broke apart, the two men clung to one another, faces buried in skin. They breathed in the scent of each other. Draco’s unique blend of vanilla, sweat and chocolate pulled Harry. His heart felt lighter than it had during the months Draco had been missing from his life. The two eventually leaned back from each other to catalog the changes that each had experienced. Draco’s smile was a little bitter.
“I’m here, I’ll always be here, Harry.” The word’s echoed in Harry’s head. They stayed there, an annoying buzzing sound in his ears. “Kiss me, quickly.” The words had urgency in them that Harry had to obey. The two mouths met with a clash as teeth clinked against each other.
Harry was still pressing his mouth onto Draco’s when he realized that the lips against his were not Draco’s at all. Instead, the cold bite of hard stone pressed back onto his lips. He turned his head to rest his cheek against the stone as a shaking hand pressed against his lips.
“Taste you.”
~~**~~
Harry had been on his quest for the remaining Horcruxes for almost two years when he finally destroyed all but Nagini. He was at a loss as to how he would go about luring Nagini away from her master for long enough to destroy her. Draco came up with the plan.
Harry couldn’t agree with the plan as it involved a terrifying amount of danger for Draco. Not only would Draco have to lie to the Dark Lord, he would also have to lure Nagini into a room where Harry would lay in wait. Attacking from behind, Draco would stick a knife into the snake’s head as Harry cut out the heart and destroyed the Horcrux hidden within.
Harry got a horrible feeling in his stomach when he thought of the plan. They had no escape plan, no back up, no choice. Harry didn’t want to risk Draco’s life but he simply couldn’t see any better plan so he finally agreed.
He was, even now, crouching beneath his invisibility cloak in a small room. It scared him to be in the headquarters of Voldemort. The evil was palpable in the air. Trepidation filled him as he concentrated on holding the spell that disguised everything about him from the snake. He could hear the dry slithering as Nagini made her way towards Harry. The sound of footsteps accompanied the frightening rasp of coils on stone.
All too soon, the moment was upon him. The door swung open and Nagini slithered in, followed by the gleaming blonde head of his lover. The snake’s tongue flicked in and out as she tested the air. Further and further into the room, closer and closer to Harry the pair came until, finally, Draco shut the door and sunk the knife into the back of the head.
Harry leapt out of his crouch in the corner and lopped off the swaying head. Even severed, Nagini’s head kept flicking its tongue in and out. Both Harry and Draco had to keep moving to avoid the dismembered head.
“Hurry up!” Draco hissed at Harry as he searched for the heart. After countless minutes, covered in what seemed like gallons of gore, Harry held Nagini’s heart in his hand. He quickly dropped it and crushed it underneath his foot. Blood welled up and started to splatter over everything nearby. Both Harry and Draco were drenched in it as the soul was destroyed. Harry stared, transfixed by the sight.
“Come on, Harry, we have to get out of here!” Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and gave him a tug. With a shake of his head, Harry followed. They ran through the maze of corridors until they reached Draco’s quarters.
“Quick, use the Floo!” Draco grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace. “House of Black!” He shouted. Just as he was stepping into the Floo, the door crashed open and Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy entered the room.
“I really expected better of a Slytherin and a Malfoy, my boy.” Voldemort hissed.
“I’m disappointed in you, son. You destroyed the Dark Lord’s pet and you will need to be punished. However, you did deliver the boy to us. That may allow for some leniency?” The question was directed towards Voldemort. Laughter filled the air as the two shared the joke.
“Go, Draco, quick! GO!” Harry pleaded with Draco. His heart fell when he saw Draco look between Harry, Lucius and Voldemort. It shattered when Draco stepped away from the Floo with a small shake of his head.
“How touching! Lucius, you raised such a romantic soul.” The two lovers looked to each other. Draco moved to Harry and they clasped hands, wands pointed out. “Really, boys, you don’t need those. Expelliarmus!” They were thrown back as their wands flew out of their hands.
“By using my son as you did, Potter,” The same intonation that drove Harry to the heights of lust put a coil of fear in his stomach. “you have killed him.”
Harry’s gaze turned towards Draco. The blond was mouthing something to him but he couldn’t hear it over the roar of blood in his ears. The stone under his cheek froze him to the spot and he closed his eyes, still gazing at his lover screaming a wordless cry.
When he opened his eyes, the manacles creaked as they swung. Harry’s gaze focused, once more, on the hand, laying palm up, over the edge of the altar. This time, Harry’s voice was almost inaudible. It bore regret and pain, shame and betrayal as it ground out its apology. There was no one in the room with him as he sighed, “Use you.”
~~**~~
Harry hated the sight of Draco’s forearms. They were his least favorite part of his lover. The reason was the black mark marring the skin. Just as Harry had thought that long ago day in Madame Malkin’s, Draco had received the Dark Mark when he’d been given his orders to kill Dumbledore.
It laughed up at Harry every time Draco’s sleeves moved. It mocked Harry as Draco reached out a hand to draw down Harry’s cheek as they lay in bed. It tormented Harry every time he slid his hands up and down his lover’s arms. It screamed at him in the middle of the night.
The Dark Mark looking up at him was Harry’s mark of failure. He’d failed to protect all of his fellow students at Hogwarts. He felt ashamed every time he saw the Mark on Draco’s arm.
To atone for his failure, Harry would kiss it, lave it with his tongue and run his fingers gently over it. This was the one piece of skin that Harry had never bitten down on or dug his nails into. He was always gentle with the Mark. He knew that it caused Draco more than enough pain every time he was summoned.
Right now, Harry was staring at the Mark so intently that he missed Draco’s sad smile. They were laying in bed, a quiet and peaceful interlude in their dangerous lives. Draco lay on his back with the sheets pulled around his waist. The pale expanse of flesh gleamed against the whiteness of the sheets. Harry, on the other hand, lay on his stomach, on top of the sheets with his gaze focused intently on the Dark Mark.
“Why do you insist on staring at that?” Harry jumped at the sound of Draco’s voice.
“I hate it.”
“I know you do, Harry. That doesn’t explain why you stare at it all the time with such an awful expression on your face. Look at me and tell me why you hate it.” Harry slowly lifted his gaze to look at Draco. They had both changed through the time they’d been together. Draco, always thin, had worn away almost to the point of emaciation. His hair, not as long as his fathers, still hung in locks that framed his face.
“It shows me that I’m a failure. I hate it.” The words were quiet.
“You’re not a failure, Harry.” Draco reached out his hand and slowly cupped Harry’s chin.
“I am. You’re marked because I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save Cedric, I couldn’t save Ginny. I couldn’t save Dumbledore or Sirius or Ron or…”Harry broke off on a small hiccup that wasn’t quite a sob.
“They couldn’t save themselves, Harry. You’re not responsible for anyone other than yourself. When are you going to understand that? You keep saying you’re sick of people treating you like a hero. You need to stop treating yourself like the hero. You can’t save everyone. Hell, the only person you can save is yourself.” Harry met Draco’s gaze and they stared at one another until Harry looked away. He missed the frustrated glance Draco shot him.
“I am the ‘Hero’, Draco. I’m the sodding Boy-Who-Lived. I’m prophesied to either kill or be killed. I can’t avoid it.”
“Do what you need to, Harry, but stop worrying about the rest of us. We’ll save ourselves.”
“Is that what this is?” Harry grabbed the arm resting on his cheek. His grip was painfully tight and he could see the flinch of pain that was carefully hidden behind a mask.
“No, that’s to save you, you bloody great fool! I stay with him to save you! Jesus, Harry, why are we talking about this anyway?” Harry finally saw Draco’s frustration with him. The fierce expression softened, as did Draco’s voice. “It’s a simple mark, a scar if you will.” Draco pulled at Harry until they were finally nose to nose.
“A scar?” Harry hated the tremor in his voice. Draco nodded before pulling Harry down onto his chest. Harry closed his eyes and breathed in Draco’s scent. The heartbeat pulsed comfortingly under Harry’s ear until it stopped. When his eyes opened, he watched the bloody chamber’s door open and a blurred shape in front of him. He curled deeper into himself as he breathed out, “Scar you.”
~~**~~
Harry had very little experience with dating. This was due, in part, to the fact that he lacked a normal childhood. While other kids were busy with their small flirtations, Harry was struggling to save himself. While other kids learned about relationships, Harry learned about foiling death.
That isn’t to say that he wasn’t ever interested in others in a romantic sense. He’d had his brief crush on Cho Chang followed by a multi-time disaster of a relationship with Ginny Weasley that left his friendship with Ron on the brink of unsalvageable. After that, the search for the Horcruxes heated up and he was forced to concentrate solely on saving the world.
Therefore, when Harry met Draco for the first time after the death of Dumbledore, he was virginal in his reaction to the attraction he felt for the adult Draco. The blonde had matured quite a bit since that disastrous night. Harry felt a tug in his stomach that directed itself to the blonde.
He was shocked when, during their confrontation, he felt himself grow hard. Hexes flying everywhere and his cock was reacting like he was fourteen. The next time, instead of hexes, fists flew between the two. Harry again felt himself grow hard and almost growled in arousal when he felt the answering erection underneath him.
“Like violence, do you, Potter?” Draco Malfoy had a way of spitting Harry’s name that used to drive him insane with rage. Now, instead, Harry felt himself grow even harder.
“I could say the same for you, Malfoy.” Draco merely smirked before lifting his head and kissing Harry. As a first kiss, it lacked the romance and beauty assumed with a first kiss. Instead, this one was hard and demanding, each trying to assert dominance as they pressed closer to one another.
When they broke apart for air, the two enemies stared at one another for a moment before pressing closer and closer. Hands fisted into hair and dragged heads where the other wanted. The sharp sting of the pulled hair added to their respective arousal.
Harry finally came to his senses and pushed Draco away from him. The blonde rolled over and lay panting on his back next to Harry. Both refused to look at one another. Neither wanted to acknowledge that there was a new element to their interactions.
The next time the pair met up, neither fists nor hexes flew. Instead, lips met, teeth nipped and tongues twisted. Their first joining was another battle between them. It was rough and fast.
Eventually, the rage was surpassed by the emotions hidden within both. Loneliness kept them meeting until it morphed into caring. Caring morphed into devotion and finally, love. Each encounter lasted longer and longer as the emotions changed.
When the two ultimately confessed their feelings, they came together with an explosive force. Hands ripped at clothes. Teeth grabbed flesh and marked. Fingers teased and tugged. Mouths whispered emotions and demands in the same breath. Erections brushed and heated each other through and through.
For Harry, better than the sex was the time afterwards. With blankets pulled over their heads, they hid from the world. Neither spoke in a voice above a whisper as they talked about their fears for the fate of each other. Hands were soft as they cupped cheeks and glided down arms and held hands. This softness drew Harry in and scared him more than anything.
The next time they came together, Draco wore a blanket of new scars. There were obvious whip marks on his back, Harry was shocked to notice.
“What happened?” Harry’s voice was soft and demanding.
“Voldemort needed to punish someone, it ended up being me.” Harry’s hand reached out and traced the silvery marks.
“I’m going to find and kill that bastard.” There was no malice in the voice and that scared Draco more than a shouted declaration would have.
“Harry, it was nothing. You need to focus on the Horcruxes first.”
“I only have Nagini left and then I’m going to kill that bastard. He hurt you.”
“Then fuck me and make it all better.” Harry grabbed at Draco’s hips and pulled them up. Draco lay with his head pressed into a pillow and his ass in the air. With a roughness Draco hadn’t experienced in a long time, Harry pushed his dry fingers into Draco’s hole. Obviously impatient, Harry scissored his fingers back and forth until Draco started to loosen.
Another quick shift of position and Harry thrust into Draco. Harry heard Draco cry out in pain. After what seemed to Harry like hours, he hit the rhythm he knew Draco loved. Faster and faster, he focused his attention onto tapping Draco’s prostate. With echoing cries, both orgasmed. The collapsed as one onto the bed.
Harry closed his eyes and buried his nose into Draco’s neck and inhaled the unique scent. Instead of the blend of vanilla, sweat and chocolate, Harry smelled blood. Startled, he lifted his head slightly and saw a bloody floor underneath him. He could hear a rhythmic clinking noise and turned to see manacles swinging with a hand floating above them. When he saw a head near him, he choked out, “Fuck you.”
~~**~~
Harry had lost so many people in his life that he tried to stop caring. When he saw Cedric killed in front of him, he matured. When he lost Sirius, he grew up. When he lost Ginny, he started to die inside. With the loss of Ron, his heart froze.
Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Slytherin, unfroze his heart. Harry never wanted to care for his childhood rival. In fact, he fought against it. In that fight, Harry was rougher than he would have been with another because he’d always been extreme in his reaction to the blonde.
Harry knew that if he were to lose his lover, his soul would break and there would be no mending it. So, he did his best to protect him. Harry sheltered the blonde from as much of his quest as he could so that Voldemort would never know about the lovers. Harry finally learned Legilimency and Occlumency just to shield his memories of the time the two spent together.
All that was for naught when Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy captured them. Harry felt his heart shatter when Draco stepped away from the Floo. The lovers clasped hands as they pointed their wands towards the Dark Lord and his devoted follower. Even as they flew backwards from the Expelliarmus, they reached for each other.
Over the next week, Harry was forced to watch as the Death Eaters tortured Draco in front of him. Draco was strapped onto an altar in front of Harry, bound at his wrists and ankles by shining manacles. The manacles clamped around his wrists and ankles held Harry to the wall.. The two stared at each other as the Death Eaters found new ways to wring cries from the young men. When Draco’s throat lost the ability to scream, Harry screamed for him. Slowly, the gleam of hope disappeared from Draco’s eyes. The dull eyes still stared at Harry and it hurt him to look into them.
Even the eye contact was taken from Harry as new and ever more creative torture brought pain to the men. Harry was never touched; Voldemort knew that he could hurt Harry more by torturing Draco endlessly. Harry, even as parched as he was, still cried as curse after curse, cut after cut, took his lover’s life a bit at a time.
When the Death Eaters unstrapped Draco from the altar and carried him away, Harry’s soul broke. His screamed demands to know what they were doing with the man were never answered. Harry could feel his magic pooling inside of him as the dull eyes of his lover haunted Harry.
Lucius Malfoy leaned into Harry’s ear and whispered, “You’ve killed him. Do you feel proud that you’ve taken my only son?” Harry’s response was cut off by the sharp cut of a knife shoved into his side.
“Are you happy that you’ve killed yet another person you supposedly cared about?” Again, Harry couldn’t respond as Lucius punched his face. When Lucius backed up, Harry sagged in his restraints. His reprieve was short-lived as Lucius raised his wand and cast curse after curse at him.
Harry kept blacking out, as the pain never stopped. At one point, he saw Voldemort enter the room. The curses never stopped as the pair watched him flail around in his restraints.
“You are so very good at killing all the ones you loved. Sirius, Dumbledore, that Weasley girl, the other Weasley, Ron, was his name?, his Mudblood girlfriend, Ms. Granger, and now my son. You are your own worst enemy, murderer.”
Harry’s bloodshot eyes opened impossibly wide. A cry of “Break you!” echoed in his head.
~~**~~
When Harry opened his eyes the next time, he saw a blonde head in front of him. With a cry, he tried to scuttle backwards. A comforting hand rested on his shoulder. The smell of vanilla fluttered in his nostrils.
“Harry?” The sound of Draco’s voice pulled Harry the rest of the way out of his fear.
“Draco?” The croaking voice that came out of Harry’s throat startled him.
“I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”
(take the ending how you like. I know what I like to think happened...)
Title: Moments
Rating: Hard R or soft NC-17
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Word Count: 6401
Excerpt (in lieu of a summary) - “ ‘I love you.’ The words weren’t often spoken between the lovers. They seemed to vow forever when today was sometimes too much of a struggle to promise. The war hung over the two like a cloud but right now, the world seemed to disappear. Right now, Draco’s steady heartbeat brought Harry peace. He was warm and secure that the future would work out for the best for both of them. Even more, Harry didn’t think of Prophecies, Horcruxes, Dark Lords or corrupted followers.”
Warnings: Angst, Torture, slightly dark!fic
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is not mine. I am not JKR, I am not Trent Reznor, therefore I own nothing, not even my car or my house.
A/N: Title themes taken from Nine Inch Nail’s “Eraser (polite)” from Further Down the Spiral. This is NOT a songfic.
ETA: Posted to TheHexFiles
ETA 2: This story has been pulled from The Hex Files. I apologise for the inconvenience.
The body on the floor lay curled in on itself. Had it not been the size of an adult, a viewer could almost be forgiven for assuming that it was a baby, fresh from the womb. It was naked, covered in blood and bodily fluids. There was not much hair left on the head. It was virtually unrecognizable.
That is, it was virtually unrecognizable except for the lightening bolt-shaped scar on its forehead. Harry Potter lay in the basement of a manor house in the middle of nowhere. He had no clue how long he’d lain there, shaking and shivering in the cold seeping up through the blocks of stone in the floor.
Manacles hung on the walls. Other manacles swung from side to side off the altar in the center of the room. There was no breeze to cause these cuffs to drift and it was a macabre scene when Harry woke. At first, though, he passed out quickly so he only caught brief snatches. The blood on the floor, walls and altar glittered in the light flickering from the sconces on the walls and the candles arrayed over the altar. The wax dripped almost rhythmically.
The air still crackled and sizzled with magic. The scent of scorched flesh was all around and Harry thanked whatever god in his or her mercy had him acclimated to the smell so that he wouldn’t gag up the nothing in his stomach.
Every time Harry woke, he’d stay conscious just a little bit longer. Each time, he’d pray to whatever god might be listening to either end his misery or give him the strength to save himself. He didn’t care which at this point. Finally, Harry felt strong enough to try to move. Movement wasn’t large to start. During one brief period of consciousness, Harry wiggled his toes and his fingers. The next one, he rolled his ankles and his wrists. He felt a sense of accomplishment when he was able to bend his knee and elbow.
When he tried to move the knee currently resting on the ground, it scraped painfully across the stones. The pain made him gag and he dry-heaved until the wave passed. Surprisingly, he stayed conscious throughout the entire time. With slow, tenuous movements, Harry put his palm flat on the ground and started to push himself upright. His arm shook with the effort as he panted in pain. The entire process seemed to take hours to Harry but ultimately, he was sitting upright, swaying back and forth as his weak arms tried to support his weight.
A mirthless grin swept across his face as he realized he should have tried to push himself back against a wall before sitting up. As it was, he was sweating and completely out of breath. The wheezing rattle scared him.
As he thought about the quality of his breath, he noticed the blood dripping into his left eye. His right wrist throbbed but it didn’t seem to be broken. His right knee was swollen past the thickness of his thigh. The worst, though, was the fact that his entire chest pulsed in time with the flow of his blood. He could feel at least three broken ribs. When he went to rub the blood out of his eye, he flinched. It felt like his cheekbone was broken. The tips of his fingers carefully probed the rest of his face until he determined it was just the one cheekbone.
He could see a door but it was on the opposite side of the room, a full fifteen feet from where he swayed. The door could have been in Timbuktu for all he was able to reach it. A desperate bark of laughter echoed through the room. It came back to him distorted and darker.
The echoing sound sobered him. Harry quickly went through all of his options. The first no longer appealed to him now that he’d been conscious this long. He was unwilling to just give up and die. The second was to get through that door. The third was to stay where he was and hope someone came for him.
With no idea how long he’d been there, Harry decided on the second option. Eyes focused on the door, not on the altar in the center of the room and especially not on the blood splattered chains swinging. He had to stop constantly for rest.
As he neared the door, it opened and a vision entered. The wavering entity wore a pair of dragon-hide boots. A long slow look up drifted past the boots, the robe covered legs and torso, the white blonde hair brushing the shoulders and reached the one face he thought never to see again. A sad smile twisted the lips.
“Need you.” His words slurred together as he lost consciousness.
~~**~~
The only thing Harry Potter ever wanted in his life was to be loved. He wanted, more than anything, to have someone or even better, a lot of someones that loved him so much that they would never think to put him in a closet or order him about as if he were a slave. His dreams came true, he had friends that loved him unconditionally, an adopted family and a lover.
The first two, everyone in the Wizarding World understood. The lover, on the other hand, no one could quite comprehend. For Harry, Draco Malfoy, boyhood rival, was the best part, the brightest light in his world. The two men completed each other completely, an almost symbiotic yin/yang relationship. Harry, himself, was a loss to explain why the two seemed to fit so well. Even more, he didn’t quite understand what he did to deserve this light. He’d been denied so many times that he expected to be slapped in the face, to have whatever he wanted to be ripped from his hands. The more he cared, the more he held onto what he cared about, the stronger and more painfully it was ripped from him.
Right now, though, it was at times like this that Harry felt his happiest. Harry and Draco were currently lying in a bed in a house in the middle of nowhere. It was supposedly a secured location that only a precious few could find. The mattress was firm and the sheets were a soft cotton. There weren’t many pillows. Most important of all, everything was clean and safe.
Harry was currently lying on his side and drawing lazy circles on Draco’s chest with his index finger. He’d just woken up from a nap. His hair was sleep tousled but, if he were to ask Draco, it didn’t look much different from his everyday mess. As he lay there, he didn’t feel self conscious in the least in his nudity. His head was propped on one arm while his legs ached to tangle with Draco’s. The circles didn’t stop forming as one grey-blue eye cracked open to glare at Harry.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The words were crisply spoken. Harry only smirked in the face of the ire in front of him.
“I missed you.” Softly spoken words testified the depths of his feelings and betrayed his fears.
“I’m right here, Harry.” Harry could tell that Draco was not in the mood to cajole or cater to Harry’s odd mood. Harry only sighed in response to Draco’s sharp tone.
“You won’t be one day and I want to fill up on as much of you as I can.” Draco grabbed Harry’s hand as it traced another endless circle. Pale hands pulled the work-roughened hand up his torso until it rested over his heart. Harry could feel the warmth from the cold looking skin seep into his palm. The heartbeat underneath his hand reassured him a bit. Draco’s words reassured him more.
“I’ll always be here, Harry. I don’t know what to say to you to make you believe that. I’m here, I’ll be here.” Draco’s voice finally echoed the softness in Harry’s voice. The pale hands pulled at the trapped sun-kissed hand until Harry was laying in a sprawl over Draco.
“I love you.” The words weren’t often spoken between the lovers. They seemed to vow forever when today was sometimes too much of a struggle to promise. The war hung over the two like a cloud but right now, the world seemed to disappear. Right now, Draco’s steady heartbeat brought Harry peace. He was warm and secure that the future would work out for the best for both of them. Even more, Harry didn’t think of Prophecies, Horcruxes, Dark Lords or corrupted followers. The bed was as far as the world extended and the two continued to whisper nonsense to each other as they lay entwined.
Eventually, the whispers tapered off as kisses were exchanged. These soft butterfly kisses reassured while at the same time promising things that neither were sure they could deliver. Bodies pressed closer in desperation that the world might intrude and separate them. Hands grasped at each other, stroking and pulling ever closer to each other. There was no desperation, no fear and no aggression between them at this moment, there was only love and a need for each other. Finally, the two were so close that a viewer would be hard pressed to say where one started and the other ended.
“I love you.” The words echoed again and again through the encounter. They were said in so many different ways; a plea, a promise, a demand, a tribute, a cry, a shout. Neither could remember who said it which way.
“Better?” Draco’s voice rolled across Harry’s skin and caused him to shiver as the room went colder. Suddenly, the bed didn’t seem like a beautiful world unto itself. It started to change into something more sinister. The sheets became cold prisons trapping Harry. The mattress hardened and chilled.
When Harry turned to look at Draco, he couldn’t see him. He was alone in a dark room, metal rattling eerily as he searched the darkness frantically. There was no mattress under him. Hard cold stone lay underneath his naked body. The love fled his body, taking shelter far away from the harshness of this reality.
As he started to sob, his knees curved towards his chest, scraping across the stone. His palms pressed together as he tucked his hands between his knees. His chest heaved and shivered as the cold of the stone seeped further into his soul.
His sobs echoed as he whispered a broken scream, “Dream you.”
~~**~~
Harry ran through the maze. A roar of a Sphinx could be heard in the distance, the snarl of a manticore came from nearby and a row over, the hedgerow caught on fire from a blast-ended skrewt. Harry kept running, knowing if he stopped, he would never escape, never finish his task.
Finally, the pathway widened and there was a bright light in front of him. It was blinding in its glory. Harry shifted his body to the left, crouching while hiding his head behind his arm. He shied away from the light until he heard a song resonating from within it.
Slowly, he stood upright and lowered his hand. With a trace of Gryffindor courage, he stepped into the light. He had to pass through this section to get to his goal. The light was warm and his heart sighed as he walked further into the light. He was no longer blinded by the light, instead, it seemed to embrace him and push him further and further. There were tendrils of brighter and dimmer light hanging in front of him, almost a forest of light.
When he paused for a small break, he saw a figure ahead of him. A young child, he couldn’t tell whether it was a male or female, stood behind a very long tendril of light. The child was unnerving in its stillness. Harry took a step towards the child and it darted further on the path. Again, as Harry paused, the child stood and stared. With the light glinting off the hair of the child as if it were a halo, Harry could see the short hair and build of a young boy, possibly eleven. The child held a lantern in its hand as it guided Harry through the light.
The child left him at a full veil of light. After parting it, he came into a field, carpeted in lush green grass that shone in the bright sunshine. The air was warm. The sky was a crystal blue with a few wispy clouds. There were mountains at the edge of his perception.
Further into the field, there was a huge tree. Underneath the tree, Harry could make out something reflecting the sunlight. He started walking towards the tree. As he neared, he could see the branches, covered with deep green foliage shimmy in the light breeze. Standing, looking towards him, was a blonde-haired man. At the sight of the slim man, Harry picked up the pace until he was running full-tilt.
Harry could see him smiling as he approached. When he reached the sheltering embrace of the tree, he slowed and stopped. His stare never wavered as he took in the man in front of him. The white blonde hair gleamed in the sunshine. Below the cascade of hair was an angular face with grey-blue eyes and full lips. There was a slight fault in the nose, where it had been broken by a hex.
The rest of the man was just as familiar to Harry as the face. There were the hands that had clasped his own countless times. There was the collarbone he liked to push his nose into; while further down was the heart that beat out his passion and his peace.
“Draco?” The name was asked like a prayer, spoken like a benediction. The man nodded. “I’ve missed you.”
The happiness in Draco’s smile turned to melancholia. Harry felt his own heart start to collapse under the sadness on the face.
“I know you have, love. I’ve missed you too.” Harry started to approach, hands outstretched, reaching, waiting for Draco to reach out his own hands. A small shake of his head and Draco refused the gesture.
“Where are we?” Draco’s smile disappeared. Harry’s heart folded even further.
“You can’t stay, Harry.” Draco turned his back on Harry. He bent over and picked up something from the ground. Harry started to shake as he saw the item. “Take this.” Draco thrust the goblet from the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Harry.
Harry backed up, hands warding off the offensive item. “I can’t, Draco. Why are you doing this?”
Draco pushed the goblet into Harry’s chest. As the black-haired man felt the familiar tug of a portkey, he heard Draco cry out after him, “Live for me!”
Harry woke shivering on the floor, no longer facing the door. Instead, he faced the altar. The manacles swung rhythmically in front of him. Their gleam dulled by splatters of blood, Harry finally noticed the hand flung out, draped over the side. It was the bright white of a corpse. He denied its presence as he tried to back up towards the door, his only thought was escape from that hand.
He sobbed, “Find you.”
~~**~~
Harry learned how horrible the world could be when he was fourteen. Up until that point, he viewed his encounters with Voldemort as adventures. They were similar to the stories of knights, dragons and fair ladies that his Aunt Petunia would read to his cousin, Dudley. When he was fourteen, however, he watched evil rise from the dead in a parody of the Christ story he’d heard in a church his Aunt Petunia had dragged him to at Easter.
Harry learned how wonderful the world could be when he was eighteen. Up until that point, he had had mild flirtations and one great affair with Ginny Weasley. They all paled when he discovered the joys, trials and tribulations of loving Draco Malfoy.
Love was tempestuous at first. The storm of love battered him, tossed him to and fro until it finally shipwrecked him on an island. This wasn’t a bad thing, in Harry’s opinion, because the only other occupant on this island was Draco. They had weathered the storm of each other to finally become a true pair.
Harry remembered the path it took to get them to the point of love. They had always had their disagreements and arguments while at Hogwarts. However, when Dumbledore was killed, both Harry and Draco were forced to grow up and realize that their petty schoolyard bickering needed to change. There were two paths for them to take, enemies or allies.
They tried the enemies as Harry continued his search for the Horcruxes. They had a smattering of skirmishes when they encountered each other. Neither, not since the Sectumsempra incident in the bathroom, ever cast a strong curse at each other. Every time Harry went to cast a strong hex or curse at Draco, he remembered the crying in the bathroom and he remembered the bleeding. He couldn’t hurt Draco that way again.
Eventually, Harry realized why he couldn’t curse Draco. Without Draco pushing him, goading him, Harry was failing. His drive to succeed was waning as the search went through what would have been his Seventh Year, and well into the summer.
On Harry’s eighteenth birthday, Harry came back to Godric’s Hollow to discover Draco Malfoy lying in Harry’s bed. The blonde was wearing a smirk as Harry approached with his wand at the read.
“What are you doing here, Malfoy?”
“What do you think, Potter?” Harry had always secretly admired how Draco would say his name, as if it were a profanity.
“I think you’re lounging in my bed. Other than that, I have no idea why you’re here.” Draco cocked an eyebrow at Harry before sliding towards the edge.
“Do you like me here?” Harry only smirked back.
“I like you at the end of my wand.” Draco’s leaned his head back and let out a bark of laughter. As the laughter subsided, he stood up and sauntered towards Harry. For his part, Harry watched his approach with trepidation. As his face became more fearful, Draco’s grin increased. Finally, Draco was standing with the tip of Harry’s wand digging into his chest.
“I like being at the end of your wand.” A slow glance down and back up Harry’s body set his blood on fire. “I’m at your mercy, Potter.” Draco leaned in and kissed Harry. As Draco’s arms slipped around Harry’s neck, Harry dropped his wand and dug his hands into the slim man’s hips.
“Sweet Merlin, it’s been too long, Harry.” Draco breathed into Harry’s neck as they broke apart. Small nips followed the admission.
“Don’t disappear like that again, please. My heart can’t take not knowing where you are. I need you, Dray.” Harry captured Draco’s lips once more.
This time, when the kiss broke apart, the two men clung to one another, faces buried in skin. They breathed in the scent of each other. Draco’s unique blend of vanilla, sweat and chocolate pulled Harry. His heart felt lighter than it had during the months Draco had been missing from his life. The two eventually leaned back from each other to catalog the changes that each had experienced. Draco’s smile was a little bitter.
“I’m here, I’ll always be here, Harry.” The word’s echoed in Harry’s head. They stayed there, an annoying buzzing sound in his ears. “Kiss me, quickly.” The words had urgency in them that Harry had to obey. The two mouths met with a clash as teeth clinked against each other.
Harry was still pressing his mouth onto Draco’s when he realized that the lips against his were not Draco’s at all. Instead, the cold bite of hard stone pressed back onto his lips. He turned his head to rest his cheek against the stone as a shaking hand pressed against his lips.
“Taste you.”
~~**~~
Harry had been on his quest for the remaining Horcruxes for almost two years when he finally destroyed all but Nagini. He was at a loss as to how he would go about luring Nagini away from her master for long enough to destroy her. Draco came up with the plan.
Harry couldn’t agree with the plan as it involved a terrifying amount of danger for Draco. Not only would Draco have to lie to the Dark Lord, he would also have to lure Nagini into a room where Harry would lay in wait. Attacking from behind, Draco would stick a knife into the snake’s head as Harry cut out the heart and destroyed the Horcrux hidden within.
Harry got a horrible feeling in his stomach when he thought of the plan. They had no escape plan, no back up, no choice. Harry didn’t want to risk Draco’s life but he simply couldn’t see any better plan so he finally agreed.
He was, even now, crouching beneath his invisibility cloak in a small room. It scared him to be in the headquarters of Voldemort. The evil was palpable in the air. Trepidation filled him as he concentrated on holding the spell that disguised everything about him from the snake. He could hear the dry slithering as Nagini made her way towards Harry. The sound of footsteps accompanied the frightening rasp of coils on stone.
All too soon, the moment was upon him. The door swung open and Nagini slithered in, followed by the gleaming blonde head of his lover. The snake’s tongue flicked in and out as she tested the air. Further and further into the room, closer and closer to Harry the pair came until, finally, Draco shut the door and sunk the knife into the back of the head.
Harry leapt out of his crouch in the corner and lopped off the swaying head. Even severed, Nagini’s head kept flicking its tongue in and out. Both Harry and Draco had to keep moving to avoid the dismembered head.
“Hurry up!” Draco hissed at Harry as he searched for the heart. After countless minutes, covered in what seemed like gallons of gore, Harry held Nagini’s heart in his hand. He quickly dropped it and crushed it underneath his foot. Blood welled up and started to splatter over everything nearby. Both Harry and Draco were drenched in it as the soul was destroyed. Harry stared, transfixed by the sight.
“Come on, Harry, we have to get out of here!” Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and gave him a tug. With a shake of his head, Harry followed. They ran through the maze of corridors until they reached Draco’s quarters.
“Quick, use the Floo!” Draco grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace. “House of Black!” He shouted. Just as he was stepping into the Floo, the door crashed open and Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy entered the room.
“I really expected better of a Slytherin and a Malfoy, my boy.” Voldemort hissed.
“I’m disappointed in you, son. You destroyed the Dark Lord’s pet and you will need to be punished. However, you did deliver the boy to us. That may allow for some leniency?” The question was directed towards Voldemort. Laughter filled the air as the two shared the joke.
“Go, Draco, quick! GO!” Harry pleaded with Draco. His heart fell when he saw Draco look between Harry, Lucius and Voldemort. It shattered when Draco stepped away from the Floo with a small shake of his head.
“How touching! Lucius, you raised such a romantic soul.” The two lovers looked to each other. Draco moved to Harry and they clasped hands, wands pointed out. “Really, boys, you don’t need those. Expelliarmus!” They were thrown back as their wands flew out of their hands.
“By using my son as you did, Potter,” The same intonation that drove Harry to the heights of lust put a coil of fear in his stomach. “you have killed him.”
Harry’s gaze turned towards Draco. The blond was mouthing something to him but he couldn’t hear it over the roar of blood in his ears. The stone under his cheek froze him to the spot and he closed his eyes, still gazing at his lover screaming a wordless cry.
When he opened his eyes, the manacles creaked as they swung. Harry’s gaze focused, once more, on the hand, laying palm up, over the edge of the altar. This time, Harry’s voice was almost inaudible. It bore regret and pain, shame and betrayal as it ground out its apology. There was no one in the room with him as he sighed, “Use you.”
~~**~~
Harry hated the sight of Draco’s forearms. They were his least favorite part of his lover. The reason was the black mark marring the skin. Just as Harry had thought that long ago day in Madame Malkin’s, Draco had received the Dark Mark when he’d been given his orders to kill Dumbledore.
It laughed up at Harry every time Draco’s sleeves moved. It mocked Harry as Draco reached out a hand to draw down Harry’s cheek as they lay in bed. It tormented Harry every time he slid his hands up and down his lover’s arms. It screamed at him in the middle of the night.
The Dark Mark looking up at him was Harry’s mark of failure. He’d failed to protect all of his fellow students at Hogwarts. He felt ashamed every time he saw the Mark on Draco’s arm.
To atone for his failure, Harry would kiss it, lave it with his tongue and run his fingers gently over it. This was the one piece of skin that Harry had never bitten down on or dug his nails into. He was always gentle with the Mark. He knew that it caused Draco more than enough pain every time he was summoned.
Right now, Harry was staring at the Mark so intently that he missed Draco’s sad smile. They were laying in bed, a quiet and peaceful interlude in their dangerous lives. Draco lay on his back with the sheets pulled around his waist. The pale expanse of flesh gleamed against the whiteness of the sheets. Harry, on the other hand, lay on his stomach, on top of the sheets with his gaze focused intently on the Dark Mark.
“Why do you insist on staring at that?” Harry jumped at the sound of Draco’s voice.
“I hate it.”
“I know you do, Harry. That doesn’t explain why you stare at it all the time with such an awful expression on your face. Look at me and tell me why you hate it.” Harry slowly lifted his gaze to look at Draco. They had both changed through the time they’d been together. Draco, always thin, had worn away almost to the point of emaciation. His hair, not as long as his fathers, still hung in locks that framed his face.
“It shows me that I’m a failure. I hate it.” The words were quiet.
“You’re not a failure, Harry.” Draco reached out his hand and slowly cupped Harry’s chin.
“I am. You’re marked because I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save Cedric, I couldn’t save Ginny. I couldn’t save Dumbledore or Sirius or Ron or…”Harry broke off on a small hiccup that wasn’t quite a sob.
“They couldn’t save themselves, Harry. You’re not responsible for anyone other than yourself. When are you going to understand that? You keep saying you’re sick of people treating you like a hero. You need to stop treating yourself like the hero. You can’t save everyone. Hell, the only person you can save is yourself.” Harry met Draco’s gaze and they stared at one another until Harry looked away. He missed the frustrated glance Draco shot him.
“I am the ‘Hero’, Draco. I’m the sodding Boy-Who-Lived. I’m prophesied to either kill or be killed. I can’t avoid it.”
“Do what you need to, Harry, but stop worrying about the rest of us. We’ll save ourselves.”
“Is that what this is?” Harry grabbed the arm resting on his cheek. His grip was painfully tight and he could see the flinch of pain that was carefully hidden behind a mask.
“No, that’s to save you, you bloody great fool! I stay with him to save you! Jesus, Harry, why are we talking about this anyway?” Harry finally saw Draco’s frustration with him. The fierce expression softened, as did Draco’s voice. “It’s a simple mark, a scar if you will.” Draco pulled at Harry until they were finally nose to nose.
“A scar?” Harry hated the tremor in his voice. Draco nodded before pulling Harry down onto his chest. Harry closed his eyes and breathed in Draco’s scent. The heartbeat pulsed comfortingly under Harry’s ear until it stopped. When his eyes opened, he watched the bloody chamber’s door open and a blurred shape in front of him. He curled deeper into himself as he breathed out, “Scar you.”
~~**~~
Harry had very little experience with dating. This was due, in part, to the fact that he lacked a normal childhood. While other kids were busy with their small flirtations, Harry was struggling to save himself. While other kids learned about relationships, Harry learned about foiling death.
That isn’t to say that he wasn’t ever interested in others in a romantic sense. He’d had his brief crush on Cho Chang followed by a multi-time disaster of a relationship with Ginny Weasley that left his friendship with Ron on the brink of unsalvageable. After that, the search for the Horcruxes heated up and he was forced to concentrate solely on saving the world.
Therefore, when Harry met Draco for the first time after the death of Dumbledore, he was virginal in his reaction to the attraction he felt for the adult Draco. The blonde had matured quite a bit since that disastrous night. Harry felt a tug in his stomach that directed itself to the blonde.
He was shocked when, during their confrontation, he felt himself grow hard. Hexes flying everywhere and his cock was reacting like he was fourteen. The next time, instead of hexes, fists flew between the two. Harry again felt himself grow hard and almost growled in arousal when he felt the answering erection underneath him.
“Like violence, do you, Potter?” Draco Malfoy had a way of spitting Harry’s name that used to drive him insane with rage. Now, instead, Harry felt himself grow even harder.
“I could say the same for you, Malfoy.” Draco merely smirked before lifting his head and kissing Harry. As a first kiss, it lacked the romance and beauty assumed with a first kiss. Instead, this one was hard and demanding, each trying to assert dominance as they pressed closer to one another.
When they broke apart for air, the two enemies stared at one another for a moment before pressing closer and closer. Hands fisted into hair and dragged heads where the other wanted. The sharp sting of the pulled hair added to their respective arousal.
Harry finally came to his senses and pushed Draco away from him. The blonde rolled over and lay panting on his back next to Harry. Both refused to look at one another. Neither wanted to acknowledge that there was a new element to their interactions.
The next time the pair met up, neither fists nor hexes flew. Instead, lips met, teeth nipped and tongues twisted. Their first joining was another battle between them. It was rough and fast.
Eventually, the rage was surpassed by the emotions hidden within both. Loneliness kept them meeting until it morphed into caring. Caring morphed into devotion and finally, love. Each encounter lasted longer and longer as the emotions changed.
When the two ultimately confessed their feelings, they came together with an explosive force. Hands ripped at clothes. Teeth grabbed flesh and marked. Fingers teased and tugged. Mouths whispered emotions and demands in the same breath. Erections brushed and heated each other through and through.
For Harry, better than the sex was the time afterwards. With blankets pulled over their heads, they hid from the world. Neither spoke in a voice above a whisper as they talked about their fears for the fate of each other. Hands were soft as they cupped cheeks and glided down arms and held hands. This softness drew Harry in and scared him more than anything.
The next time they came together, Draco wore a blanket of new scars. There were obvious whip marks on his back, Harry was shocked to notice.
“What happened?” Harry’s voice was soft and demanding.
“Voldemort needed to punish someone, it ended up being me.” Harry’s hand reached out and traced the silvery marks.
“I’m going to find and kill that bastard.” There was no malice in the voice and that scared Draco more than a shouted declaration would have.
“Harry, it was nothing. You need to focus on the Horcruxes first.”
“I only have Nagini left and then I’m going to kill that bastard. He hurt you.”
“Then fuck me and make it all better.” Harry grabbed at Draco’s hips and pulled them up. Draco lay with his head pressed into a pillow and his ass in the air. With a roughness Draco hadn’t experienced in a long time, Harry pushed his dry fingers into Draco’s hole. Obviously impatient, Harry scissored his fingers back and forth until Draco started to loosen.
Another quick shift of position and Harry thrust into Draco. Harry heard Draco cry out in pain. After what seemed to Harry like hours, he hit the rhythm he knew Draco loved. Faster and faster, he focused his attention onto tapping Draco’s prostate. With echoing cries, both orgasmed. The collapsed as one onto the bed.
Harry closed his eyes and buried his nose into Draco’s neck and inhaled the unique scent. Instead of the blend of vanilla, sweat and chocolate, Harry smelled blood. Startled, he lifted his head slightly and saw a bloody floor underneath him. He could hear a rhythmic clinking noise and turned to see manacles swinging with a hand floating above them. When he saw a head near him, he choked out, “Fuck you.”
~~**~~
Harry had lost so many people in his life that he tried to stop caring. When he saw Cedric killed in front of him, he matured. When he lost Sirius, he grew up. When he lost Ginny, he started to die inside. With the loss of Ron, his heart froze.
Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Slytherin, unfroze his heart. Harry never wanted to care for his childhood rival. In fact, he fought against it. In that fight, Harry was rougher than he would have been with another because he’d always been extreme in his reaction to the blonde.
Harry knew that if he were to lose his lover, his soul would break and there would be no mending it. So, he did his best to protect him. Harry sheltered the blonde from as much of his quest as he could so that Voldemort would never know about the lovers. Harry finally learned Legilimency and Occlumency just to shield his memories of the time the two spent together.
All that was for naught when Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy captured them. Harry felt his heart shatter when Draco stepped away from the Floo. The lovers clasped hands as they pointed their wands towards the Dark Lord and his devoted follower. Even as they flew backwards from the Expelliarmus, they reached for each other.
Over the next week, Harry was forced to watch as the Death Eaters tortured Draco in front of him. Draco was strapped onto an altar in front of Harry, bound at his wrists and ankles by shining manacles. The manacles clamped around his wrists and ankles held Harry to the wall.. The two stared at each other as the Death Eaters found new ways to wring cries from the young men. When Draco’s throat lost the ability to scream, Harry screamed for him. Slowly, the gleam of hope disappeared from Draco’s eyes. The dull eyes still stared at Harry and it hurt him to look into them.
Even the eye contact was taken from Harry as new and ever more creative torture brought pain to the men. Harry was never touched; Voldemort knew that he could hurt Harry more by torturing Draco endlessly. Harry, even as parched as he was, still cried as curse after curse, cut after cut, took his lover’s life a bit at a time.
When the Death Eaters unstrapped Draco from the altar and carried him away, Harry’s soul broke. His screamed demands to know what they were doing with the man were never answered. Harry could feel his magic pooling inside of him as the dull eyes of his lover haunted Harry.
Lucius Malfoy leaned into Harry’s ear and whispered, “You’ve killed him. Do you feel proud that you’ve taken my only son?” Harry’s response was cut off by the sharp cut of a knife shoved into his side.
“Are you happy that you’ve killed yet another person you supposedly cared about?” Again, Harry couldn’t respond as Lucius punched his face. When Lucius backed up, Harry sagged in his restraints. His reprieve was short-lived as Lucius raised his wand and cast curse after curse at him.
Harry kept blacking out, as the pain never stopped. At one point, he saw Voldemort enter the room. The curses never stopped as the pair watched him flail around in his restraints.
“You are so very good at killing all the ones you loved. Sirius, Dumbledore, that Weasley girl, the other Weasley, Ron, was his name?, his Mudblood girlfriend, Ms. Granger, and now my son. You are your own worst enemy, murderer.”
Harry’s bloodshot eyes opened impossibly wide. A cry of “Break you!” echoed in his head.
~~**~~
When Harry opened his eyes the next time, he saw a blonde head in front of him. With a cry, he tried to scuttle backwards. A comforting hand rested on his shoulder. The smell of vanilla fluttered in his nostrils.
“Harry?” The sound of Draco’s voice pulled Harry the rest of the way out of his fear.
“Draco?” The croaking voice that came out of Harry’s throat startled him.
“I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”
(take the ending how you like. I know what I like to think happened...)
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Moments
Date: 2005-09-27 04:31 am (UTC)Actually, you got me teared up; big fat tears and my throat just clogged up… I found astonishing how something so obviously fictiony, could make me just silently sit there, read and cry… you are such a talented writer!
I simply want to say that this is the most deep fic. I've read to date, it was kinda depressive in a really beautiful way. And the ending…that was the most touching ending of Harry I've ever read. In its' way, was perfect…
I bow down to you, all in all, it was wonderfully written. Angst=love, and you do it beautifully.
Hugs,
Reina
Re: Moments
Date: 2005-09-27 03:28 pm (UTC)