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Ragnarok	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11309 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Ragnarok
- 2-Strike
- 3-Assault
- 4-Counterstrike
- 5-Backblow
- 6-Clash
- 7-Collision
- 8-Blast
- 9-Jab
- 10-Rush
- 11-Unite
- 12-And Conquer
- 9
- 10
- 11
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Ten�Rush

�� For a few
moments as they prepared to Apparate, Harry felt as if he were walking in a
dream. He was doing anything, anything,
rather than actually preparing to murder a Wizengamot member. He had served
them for so long, and other than moments when the magic had swirled within him
and he had longed to release it any way he could, he had never seriously
thought about killing the ones who called themselves his masters. Why should
he? They would know what had happened and hunt him down.

�� Of course,
that should have told him something right there, he thought. If he only wanted
to die to escape the magic�s torment, then why not relieve his feelings and let
them kill him? Even then, his strongest desire had been to survive. The problem
was that he couldn�t acknowledge it, and that made him ignore the indicators
that would have told him otherwise.

�� But now he
was going.

�� As long as I don�t act as though I�m in a dream, he decided,
and felt them leap through darkness as Malfoy Apparated them, it�s probably going to be all right. And we
can decide what we�re going to do when Gilfleur is dead.

*

�� Draco stood
outside the building that held the Wizengamot�s quarters and studied Potter
critically. His eyes were brighter and bigger than they should have been, his
breathing faster, and he looked at the building as though he had never seen it
before.

�� Of course,
he noticed that Draco was observing him, though not fast enough to reassure
Draco. He twisted his head and frowned at him. �What is it? What�s the matter?�

�� I want to
know if the Wizengamot�s training of you is going to be a problem,� Draco said
bluntly. �They might have conditioned you to such an extent that you can�t
strike against them, if they didn�t simply put a spell on you that would make
it impossible for you to rebel. That�s what I would have done.�

�� Potter
bristled. �If they had done that, then why didn�t it force me away from the
path of rebellion already? I�ve done lots of things with you that they wouldn�t
have wanted me to do.�

�� Yes, and sex not the least transgressive, Draco
thought. He would have considered it, at least, if he had been on the
Wizengamot when Potter first became Ragnarok, and he could not believe that all
of them were fools without any psychological insight. They had to know that it
would be easier to control Potter if they isolated him and kept him from
forming any bonds or attachments. That way, they could also manipulate him with
ease. Draco had seen the way Potter looked and acted when he thought no one in
the world valued him or would help him. He wasn�t fit to stand alone.

�� On the
other hand, he was right that any spell meant to prevent rebellion should have
acted before now. Why wait? The Wizengamot might consider that nothing except
an attempt to actually rise against them was worthy of the spell acting�the
first thought Draco had had�but Gilfleur and Risidell at least would have been
careful enough to see otherwise, and Risidell was the one who had the most direct
charge of Potter.

�� Come with
me, then,� he said softly, and once again called his magic as he laid his hand
on Potter�s arm. Potter�s eyelids drooped deliciously for a moment, and then he
unexpectedly stepped away and shook his head angrily.

�� You don�t
need to manipulate me, too,� he whispered. �I�ll come along. You don�t need to
worry about that.�

�� Draco
laughed in spite of himself, though quietly, so that he wouldn�t warn any eager
watcher they were there. �I wasn�t trying to manipulate you,� he explained when
Potter glared at him. �I was trying to seduce you.�

�� Potter
gaped at him, and Draco rolled his eyes. �Did you really think anything else of
me by now?� he asked. �Are you about to have a moral crisis because I didn�t
approach you in honesty from the beginning?�

�� It was
enough honesty from the beginning,� Potter said, and swallowed, and then gave
an awkward laugh. �I just�it didn�t occur to me that that was what you might
want. It didn�t occur to me that I was seducible.�

�� The next
time we�re alone, then I�ll show you exactly what I think on that subject,�
Draco promised.

�� Potter shut
his eyes and swayed a little, putting out a hand as though he would catch
himself on an invisible wall. When nothing appeared beneath his hand, he popped
his eyes back open and gave Draco a sickly smile. �All right.�

�� Good,�
Draco said, and looked back at the building in front of them, large,
impressive, dark, and silent. �Now, let�s kill her.�

*

�� The moment
remained dream-like for Harry even when they stepped back into his warded
room�Draco had said the killing should take place there, because the wards
would keep most of the Wizengamot from feeling the collision of powerful
magic�and saw Gilfleur waiting in Harry�s chair beside the fire. Yes, he
understood that this wasn�t the best state of mind to be in, but he was still
struggling with the notion that Malfoy might want to seduce him rather than
simply make a bargain with him or twist him to his own ends. The word seduce implied, well, all sorts of possibilities
that Harry had sometimes dreamed of or hoped for and never taken seriously even
when he found himself sleeping with Malfoy.

�� Possibilities
that he had to dismiss from his mind when he saw Gilfleur rising hastily to her
feet with moist eyes.

�� You
succeeded,� she said. �You would not have come back if you did not succeed. I
wondered. Given that Malfoy is�was�formidable��

And then she broke off and gave him
a sick look when she saw the man who walked by his side. That was what undid
her, Harry thought later, the sick look. She would have done much better in the
ensuing battle if she hadn�t hesitated, but simply understood the situation
from a glance and struck.

�You�ve betrayed me,� she
whispered. �I let you have as much assistance as you liked, and you served us,
and you betrayed us.�

�� Harry would
have asked who he was supposed to be betraying, exactly, her or the whole
Wizengamot, but she turned and cast a spell at Malfoy, as if she assumed that
Harry would simply stand back and let that happen.

�� Harry held
out his hand, told his magic, I want
nothing of her left, and let it go.

�� His magic
surged out in a crackling cloud of energy�and rammed into a barrier, for the
first time since the ritual that had changed Harry. He reeled back, gasping. The
barrier dissolved in instants, but Harry was still caught in the current of his
turning power and couldn�t respond the way he probably should have.

�� Malfoy was
already in front of him, casting spells that Harry could barely see or
comprehend because of their swiftness, all of which seemed to run into the same
invisible wall that his magic had. Harry swallowed as the cloud dissipated back
into his body, saw Gilfleur�s intense face and faint smile, and finally
understood. He hadn�t battled someone before who had enhanced their power with
one of those rituals. Gilfleur might not be able to resist every strike he
could throw, but she could defend herself.

�� And Malfoy
was probably only equal to her in power, not substantially stronger, or he
would have overcome her in the first moments. Harry had to figure out some
other way to help in this battle.

�� He dropped
back with a frown and began to circle, thinking. If she was defended against
brute force, then what else could he do? That was the only weapon he had to
offer, the only thing that made him frightening in the first place.

�� Then
another answer came to him, one that focused on the image of a dissolving
telescope in the attics at Grimmauld Place.

�� Harry
smiled, and began to focus.

*

�� Draco felt
a flash of intense regret as Gilfleur dismissed and dodged and outfaced his
spells. If he had known of her existence before now, he could have had someone
to practice with, someone who would let him test his powers more fully than he
could against Potter, whose magic was�for now�so different.

�� But he
could not have enjoyed the other pleasures with her that he had enjoyed with
Potter: the seduction, the dancing, the intense cooperation for the goal of
getting more power. He was sure that Gilfleur would have become uneasy as Draco
grew stronger and plotted to destroy him. It had been her first reaction when
she saw that he had more than the usual amount of magic, after all.

�� But he
still mourned the opportunity missed, because she had been through different
rituals than he had. The defenses against his magic, which he could not see or
anticipate and could only feel by the way that his magic turned around and came
back to him, were masterly. She had not learned them on her own, Draco was
certain. The rituals had adapted and changed her spells, and she had adapted
and changed them in turn as she learned how they functioned.

�� She was
smarter than he had thought, and if she could not drive him back because of her
offensive spells, at least Draco thirsted for the knowledge she had used to
make herself a master of shields and walls.

�� Gilfleur
spoke when they had danced in silence�well, silence except for the grunts of
intense effort�around each other for several moments. �You will not win,� she
said. Her lips were set in a thin smile. �I have let others know what I
intended to do. Kill me and you bring the entire Wizengamot down on you.�

�� Draco
didn�t see that this was worth responding to. He was trying to find a hole in
her walls, and he wouldn�t find it if he wasted time on irrelevant speeches.
Perhaps Gilfleur had joined the Wizengamot because she liked irrelevant
speeches, though he had interacted with her for too short a time to see signs
of it.

�� And Potter
will die,� she whispered. �There are ways to kill even an abomination like him,
and we have found them.�

�� Draco
wondered why she would say such things when Potter was still in the room, but
then decided that it probably had to do with the common Wizengamot attitude
that Potter was incapable of rebellion because he didn�t have a mind of his
own. Well, if she wanted to forget, he wasn�t about to remind her. He chose
another spell that he thought might make her jump, and touched her heart the
same way he had touched Kellerston�s.

�� Her shield
turned it aside again, but this time, Draco knew he had felt the spell sink
further into her flesh. Her internal shields were not as good as her external
ones. It was a weakness, and she saw that he knew it as one, because her eyes
grew wary and she backed away from him, still circling, still watching intently
for some way to trip him up.

�� Potter
attacked from the side.

�� Draco
caught a glimpse of his squinting eyes and set jaw, and a collection of
flames�with no color that Draco had ever seen before, and which he couldn�t remember
no matter how much he tried to think of it later�were suddenly dancing in front
of Gilfleur. She stepped adeptly backwards, but the flames extended long
fingers and curled them around her ankles, tugging her forwards. She pitched to
the floor, screaming loudly enough that Draco flinched before he remembered
that she had wanted to kill him and therefore deserved no compromise and no
sympathy.

�� He stepped
closer, craning his neck so that he could at least have a good view of how
Potter appeared to be killing her. He would remember this technique in case he
wanted to use it on someone in the future.

�� The flames
were doing no damage that he could see, oddly, other than sticking into
Gilfleur�s skin like splinters or thorns. But her eyes were wide with
desperation, and every time she started to raise her power, which Draco could
feel as a trembling, quivering flood of silvery pressure, it collapsed again.

�� Draco
suddenly understood, and didn�t bother concealing his laughter. He didn�t think
it would distract Potter, and Gilfleur could hear it as she died and do nothing
to interfere. Potter had somehow figured out a way to use his magic to destroy
her own. The flames were simply the form that it took, probably because Potter
had used fire and other traditional sources of destruction for so long that he
couldn�t envision the magic simply being consumed. And it made it more
terrifying for Gilfleur, perhaps, to see the flames and know that she should have been able to resist them.

�� Draco
turned to Potter. His jaw was still set, but his eyes were distant now, with an
expression in them as if he was listening to calming music. When he focused on
Draco and Gilfleur again, it was to cock his head and give a disarming smile.
Perhaps he feared that Draco would scold him for some reason.

�� Draco
smiled back instead, and let the smile widen into the lascivious one he had
been suppressing since the moment he first understood what Potter had done.
Potter jerked a little, as though it had never occurred to him that someone
could find his magic exciting, but he recovered in good time and smiled back.

�� Gilfleur
cried out. It was a sound of panic and pain, but of loss more profound than
either. Draco understood. If he had suddenly realized that he was losing all
the magic he had worked so hard to retain, then he would have cried out, too.
He turned around and leaned in interest against the nearby wall, watching as
Gilfleur began to die.

�� The flames
were fading out, flickering now and then with pulses of green and rose along
their strange color, snapping back into view for a moment, and then flickering
again. Draco could see through them. He looked at Gilfleur and realized with a
shock that he could see through her,
too.

�� Potter was
turning her into magic, Draco thought a moment later. That was the only
possible explanation. The flames were eating Gilfleur as well as the magic that
poured out of her, and destroying it.

�� Draco
opened his mouth to ask if Potter could possibly compel his magic to transfer
some of her power to Draco, and then shut it again. No, Potter had already said
that his power could only destroy, and Draco would look stupid if he asked the
question again. He would simply relax, accept matters, and continue to watch
the fascinating way in which Gilfleur would likely die.

�� Gilfleur�s
wail began to grow softer, not because she had stopped screaming but because
she was losing substance to her mouth, as Draco saw when he looked. The color
of her lips was gone, and she might have been one of Hogwarts�s ghosts on a
particularly bad day. Her hair was ashen, not because it had suddenly turned
grey but because that was the way it had to be. She closed her eyes at the last
moment, as if the sight of herself dissolving was worse than anything else.
Draco could see why it might be.

�� Draco
glanced at Potter and saw that he avoided watching the flames, his mouth curled
in disgust. Draco shrugged. Whether Potter didn�t like the effects his power
was having or simply didn�t want to watch someone else killed, it was up to him
whether he wanted to look or not. Draco didn�t see anything noble watching an
enemy die. They were still going, either way, and the old notion that someone
should �look you in the eye as they stick the sword through you� did nothing
but comfort the killer.

�� Besides, as
far as Draco was concerned, Potter had earned the right to any indulgence he
wanted. Even those he might not know he wanted.

�� He waited
until the last traces of Gilfleur had become smoke and dissipated into the air
around them. Then he moved while Potter was still staring at his hands as if
his fingernails were dirty.

�� Potter
gasped when Draco pinned him to the wall and pressed his mouth fiercely home.
But he gave back the challenge a moment later, his hands locking into place on
Draco�s hips, his tongue thrusting as if he wanted to choke him. Draco backed
away and steered him towards the bed.

�� I
don�t�understand�� Potter gasped as they fell. �Why now? Don�t you want to go
back to the Manor and��

�� Draco
didn�t bother answering with anything other than his tongue. The room had wards
that should contain their destructive magic as they had contained the spells
that caused Gilfleur�s death, and he wanted Potter now. He also wanted to give Potter some surge of pleasure now, so
that he wouldn�t look back on this evening, their first victory, with utter
distaste, and he wanted to offer an apology of sorts. He had told Potter they
would kill Gilfleur together, and that hadn�t happened because she and Draco
were too close to equal.

�� Well, Draco
could still bring other skills to this partnership.

�� He bit
Potter�s throat, and when Potter stared up at him with bright and heated eyes,
leaned back so that their bodies almost ceased to touch. Potter�s gaze started
to turn away, as if he assumed that he should simply give up because Draco was
leaving, but Draco conjured lube on his fingers with a murmured word.

�� The lube
shone in the muffled light of the fire. Potter�s gaze locked on the glitter,
and Draco heard a hopeful, choked-back breath.

�� Merlin,
Potter was gagging for it.

�� Draco
snarled, and then lost control and knowledge of his movements for a few brief seconds.
When he could see again, he was half-naked and Potter was getting there. Potter
gave a snarl of his own, and suddenly his clothes were gone, swirling briefly
in the air as colored motes before even that vanished.

�� Draco
shuddered and tore into the suddenly uncertain expression on Potter�s face with
lips and tongue. If Potter didn�t understand by now that Draco was turned on by exposure to his magic, then Draco
hadn�t been doing his job.

�� Potter�s
hands grew more confident, and by the time that Draco pulled off the last of
his own clothes and reached for Potter�s arse, he even had a smile that could
have been mistaken for a mischievous one. He parted his legs and looked up at
Draco with faux innocence, eyelids drooping as if he were about to go to sleep.
�Like this?� he asked.

�� Draco bit
down on his tongue savagely enough to draw blood as he stared at the small
round hole that awaited his fingers. He reached down.

*

�� Harry could
almost remember what it was like to be normal, now, and not be surprised that
someone was looking at him with desire.

�� Almost. He was still sure there was
nothing in his life before he had become the Wizengamot�s executioner that
approached the intensity of this experience.

�� He spread
his legs further, until his hips ached and his feet dangled off the sides of
the bed. �Well, come on,� he said, because Malfoy�s hand was moving slowly, as
if he himself was surprised at what Harry was doing. �Can you take this or
not?�

�� Malfoy
choked and sighed, and leaned down to kiss him. Harry permitted that, but bit
Malfoy�s tongue when he tried to prolong the kiss. He wanted the fingers to get
where they were going, and pushed himself backwards with a complicated movement
of knees and thighs so that he would actually feel Malfoy some time this
century.

�� Malfoy
uttered a shuddering breath when his fingers entered Harry and stared with wide
eyes. Harry wanted to laugh. He was the one in control, suddenly, and if he had
his way, then the control wouldn�t return to Malfoy until after he was safely
inside Harry. Perhaps not even then, if Harry was the one who could handle it
better.

�� Are you
better about moving your cock than your hand?� he asked.

�� Malfoy
shuddered again and began working Harry open. Harry leaned his head back and
concentrated on Malfoy�s face to get him through the inevitable pain. He looked
half-dazed, still, as though Harry�s magic had knocked him on the head. Harry
felt extremely smug. He had done something that would cause fear in many, the
way he�d destroyed Gilfleur, but all Malfoy wanted was to get in bed with him.

�� Well, that part of the goal is accomplished,
at least, Harry thought, and rocked on Malfoy�s fingers to show willing.
The pain had begun its slow transmutation into pleasure, and he rather thought
he could take Malfoy now.

�� Malfoy
still used another finger before he gave in to Harry�s vocal curses and pleas
and lined his cock up with Harry�s entrance. Harry shoved himself down again,
but this time he had really gone as far as he could, and Malfoy was the one who
had to make the final movements, entering with many hisses and sighs through
clenched teeth. Harry clamped down once or twice and each time won something
close to a yelp.

�� Then Malfoy
was all the way inside, more dazed than ever, embraced between Harry�s
sprawling legs, and they stared at each other.

�� Now,�
Harry whispered.

�� Malfoy
pumped his hips forwards in response to the command, and Harry felt a thrum of
wonder, awe, and glee travel through him.

�� I can command him, sometimes.

*

�� The warmth
inside Potter was nothing new. So Draco told himself again and again while his
hips snapped with more force than necessary, more force than he had told them
they could use, and his cock tingled and his head spun and his balls felt as if
they were going to spill their load long before he wanted them to.

�� Nothing
new, but more intense than anything he had experienced before. There was that.
And Potter lay beneath him and watched him with self-possessed pleasure, as if
he were masturbating and thus solely responsible for what he felt, now and then
arching his neck and writhing. It seemed he could read Draco�s mind and know
that he found those motions enticing.

�� It wasn�t
fair. Draco was on fire, and Potter looked as calm and cool as someone ordering
a house-elf to get him a cup of water.

�� Draco
probed deeper, twisting his hips, riding back and then shoving himself
forwards, all because he had to see
Potter�s expression change. It finally wavered and broke when he hit something
that had to be Potter�s prostate, and Potter�s fingers faltered as he reached
up and clutched towards Draco. His face was pale now, and he moaned for what
seemed like endless moments before he finally found words.

�� Draco.� That was the word, though
stuttered and dragged out over a longer space of breath than Draco was
accustomed to hearing it.

�� Draco
laughed, and hoped that Potter would hear triumph and not contempt in the
sound, which was all he really felt. Then he began to fuck Potter in earnest,
watching the ripples that traveled through him with every thrust.

�� Potter
never regained the control that he�d had at the beginning of the fuck, but he
didn�t lie there passively and accept Draco, either. He rolled his hips in
counterpoint, tried to get more of Draco�s cock inside his arse than actually
existed by pushing downwards, moaned in protest when Draco briefly drew himself
out to find a better position, and left long, stinging scratches along Draco�s
back. Draco bowed his head and touched Potter with his lips when he could,
especially when Potter half-reared up and brought his mouth or his cheek or his
nipples within biting distance.

�� His completion
came blindingly fast, reminding him of spinning over a cliff on a waterfall.
Draco sighed as he orgasmed, making sure that he leaned forwards to trigger
Potter�s and share the pleasure with him. Potter came a moment later, shaking
hard enough in his release to nearly throw Draco off.

�� Draco dropped
to the bed and closed his eyes, so content that it felt more obscene than the
fuck had.

�� Potter
nuzzled into his neck, pushed his hair aside, and bit down hard. Draco didn�t
even jump, it felt so natural. He made sure to leave his own mark on Potter�s
shoulder, and then lay there with heart racing and thoughts doing the same
thing. They weren�t about any
specific subject; it was enough that he had them and that he was light and
flying with wonder, desire, and delight.

�� He didn�t
know exactly what they were going to do next, but soon he would, and then they
would do it.

�� The most
important thing was that he now had complete confidence that they would conquer
the Wizengamot and win their fight to conquer the wizarding world.

�� Together.

*

�� Shadow
Lily: Harry will at least ensure that Draco doesn�t hurt his friends, but yeah,
they can�t work together.

�� polka dot: I
think by that point, most of his ability to protest was gone. Though the Wizengamot
didn�t have him kill just anyone, like Muggles; it was people who were
political enemies already. They consider him too powerful to be used just
because.

�� SP777: I
think their younger selves would be horrified. But maybe a little proud, too.

�� And while
it�s always nice to receive good reviews, I don�t require it.
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