Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Nothing, Everything	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 10224 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Author's note: I stayed up until half past two in the morning to finish this chapter, so if the last scene sucks, blame my sleep deprived mind *coughs* Overall, though, I'm actually quite happy with this chapter LOL I hope you'll be too!
Thanks to the following reviewers: Thunderbird and Jan
Warnings: Torture; angst; brief reference to threat of rape in the past; implied mature content
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 13
His head was throbbing fiercely when he became conscious, as if his head had been slammed several times against a hard surface. His vision swam, his sight blurry, and it made it hard to discern where he was. He was strung up across a rough wall; his arms and legs spread out and shackled with invisible restraints. His wand had been dropped a couple of feet away from him, but in his bound state he had no hope of picking it up. There was no other sound aside from his laboured breathing and he slowly raised his head, hissing when another bolt of pain went straight through his head, down to his neck.
The room he had been stashed in was devoid of any furniture. There were no windows and the only exit was barred by a wooden door. He was bound against the wall opposite of the door and when he studied the walls better, nausea filled him at the sight of old blood spatters. Some of them even reached the ceiling and his mind shied away from contemplating what kind of wounds would cause blood to splash that high up.
It didn't look good for him at all.
How long had he been here? Dread filled his stomach when he remembered the spell he had used in his room before he had sneaked out. Depending on how long he had been here, it could take hours before his two bodyguards discovered he was gone. And then what? They had no idea where he had gone and more hours would pass before they would even think of looking in Knockturn Alley. If they even thought of checking there at all.
He was royally fucked and it was all his own fault. He knew he had a target painted on his back and yet he still had gone out without the Aurors. How bloody stupid could he have been? No amount of money or prestige was worth losing his life and yet he had left his guards behind. For what?
A stupid potion.
There was no doubt in his mind that he would be killed by whoever had abducted him. Knocking somebody unconscious and hanging them in a room with its walls full of blood didn't exactly sound like a social call.
He refused to die here, though. Like hell was he going to be as meek as a lamb and await his execution. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the thrum of his magic, gently humming in the back of his mind. Normally he preferred to let his magic flow through his wand, as he had never got quite the hang of wandless magic, but desperate times called for desperate measures. His wand was out of reach and who knew how much time he had left before someone would come for him?
So he concentrated, following one of the many threads leading to the core of his magic. It pulsated gently, a soft green light he had grown accustomed to once he had learnt to pinpoint his core. He pulled at it carefully, urging his magic to rise to the surface and break through the invisible shackles.
His magic obeyed and steadily started rising to the surface, warming him from within. His fingertips and toes tingled and he wiggled his fingers, anticipating the moment his magic would burst out. It was nearly at the surface, thrumming right underneath his skin, and then –
It fizzled out. Like a flame being put out by water.
"No," he breathed out furiously, jerking his hands and feet, but nothing gave. They had put a Drainage Curse on the shackles. Every bit of magic used would be swallowed up by them before it could do anything.
He tried again, forcing an even greater burst of magic through his body, but all it did was making him exhausted and his muscles taut; his skin stretching too tight.
"Ah, you're awake."
The nonchalant, gruff voice had Draco whipping his head up and he stared at the wizard who had just entered the room. He had never seen his face before, but his posture and gruff voice made alarm bells go off.
One of his attackers.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the man smiled thinly; his dark brown eyes gazing coldly at Draco. "My name is David Loch. Does it ring any bells?"
Silently Draco shook his head, watching warily how Loch approached him leisurely. He kicked Draco's wand to the right wall and halted two feet away from him.
"No, perhaps not," Loch said mildly, but the way his fingers tightened around his wand belied his true feelings. "I guess after torturing so many people, names tend to blend together, hm?"
"I don't know - "
Loch raised his voice a notch higher. "On the seventh of February my niece, Shelley Loch, was dumped on the porch of her parents' house, barely clinging to life. She had been tortured by Death Eaters and her wounds were so severe her parents have never been able to tell the rest of the family what happened to her. You know who one of her torturers was?" His voice descended into a dangerous whisper.
Draco closed his eyes, bile rising up in his throat. Yes, he remembered Shelley. He hadn't known her last name, but that day, the seventh of February, was burnt into his mind forever.
Before, he had managed to get away with only using some Burn Hexes or Stingers, but that day his Aunt Bellatrix had supervised him and had threatened to let Fenrir have a go at Draco's mother if he didn't take his task seriously. She had mused aloud how she might even lock up Narcissa with Wooding, a Death Eater who had revelled in raping and torturing women. Desperate to keep his mother safe, Draco had thrown every non-lethal curse and hex he knew at Shelley, locking his feelings up behind an iron wall in his mind to ignore her pleading and screaming. It had been horrifying and Draco had been reassured to have nightmares for months by the time Aunt Bellatrix had decided he had done enough and had finished the job.
"Yes, it seems you remember her now," Loch remarked coolly.
"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, staring down at the ground in shame. "I know it won't mean anything to you, but I'm really sorry I hurt your niece. I did it to protect my mother and I know that's not an excuse."
Loch snorted; the harsh sound making Draco flinch. "Well, you're right that it's not an excuse," he said coldly. "But I'm not surprised. Death Eater filth protects their own, right?" He turned his head and beckoned to someone outside.
"What – what are you going to do?" Draco asked fearfully, watching with rising panic how more people entered the room. Unlike Loch their faces remained hidden beneath their hoods, but their wands were all trained upon him as they formed a half circle.
"We are part of the Band of the Rising Phoenix," Loch explained, taking his place between two hooded figures. "When the war ended, we were hopeful that the guilty parties would be punished accordingly. Instead, we had to listen in despair as Death Eaters were given light sentences or were even released, because there wasn't 'enough evidence' to accuse you," he spat out the last sentence; his eyes flaring up with anger.
A broad shouldered wizard spoke, "Our families lost loved ones due to Death Eaters. We are forced to live with the loss, with the gaping holes left behind in our hearts, while you and every other scum are allowed to walk free and enjoy your life. Our loved ones don't get that chance anymore!"
This time a woman, standing almost directly next to Draco, took over. "We wallowed in our despair for a while, before we realised that we have the power to do something. If the Wizengamot refuses to be on our side, we have to carry out justice on our own."
"Azkaban is too heavily warded." Loch again; a sinister smile was blooming across his face. "So we decided to focus on the ones who managed to get off scot-free. If we had to say goodbye to our loved ones, why would you be allowed to keep yours?"
A wizard, stockier built than Loch, explained almost in a bored tone, "We researched the best way to carry out justice. It took us a long time, but we stumbled upon an interesting spell. You see this spell works twofold: it uses the aversity you have felt towards a specific person and the love you feel for them. Naturally this spell doesn't work equally well on everyone, but where it can't find aversity to feed itself with, it turns towards the love one feels."
"What do you mean?" Draco whispered horrified. He would ask them whether it was a smart idea to tell him what exactly they had done, but he knew why they were speaking so freely now: they weren't planning on giving him any chances to go blabbing.
"We combined this spell with the Memory Puller," the man continued calmly. "One of us uses the Memory Puller on specific memories, pulling them out. Then we use the Cor Diverbero Curse. It brings the aversity to the front and any love you feel for your partner will be turned into indifference. The longer it is allowed to fester, the more indifference will turn into hatred. That combined with the loss of memories will eventually make you turn everyone against you. Unfortunately the spell's weakness are in fact memories. If the intended manages to push past the indifference and create new memories with their partner, the spell will weaken."
"As was shown with some of the people we brought justice down upon," Loch admitted begrudgingly. He shook his head mournfully. "They managed to build their relationship anew, but we won't lower ourselves to the level of the likes of you. We will allow them their peace. We managed to bring justice down upon the ones who deserved it the most after all."
He looked at Draco and a grin, sharp enough to rival that of a shark, lit up his face. "For months we tried to find a way to get you. Who would be a better example of our justice than you, Draco Malfoy? You, whose family was in the inner most circle of You-Know-Who. You, who tortured countless people, who managed to walk away with nothing but a slap on the wrist thanks to Harry Potter. You, who managed to sully Mister Potter with your darkness. You can't imagine how pleasing it was for us to watch how you destroyed singlehandedly every precious relationship you had."
A bark of sharp laughter escaped him and he threw his head back, looking joyful. He shook his head with a faint smile. "I admit, for a while we thought we had failed. You continued to live with Mister Potter and nothing seemed amiss between the two of you. If we hadn't been the ones to punish you, we wouldn't have even known you were cursed! But it seems like your true nature caught up to you eventually and you showed the entire world who you really are: a ruthless Dark Wizard, lacking the capacity to really love. I feel sorry for Mister Potter, though. It must have hurt him greatly to realise that the man he was about to pledge his life to couldn't muster up even a shred of the love he must have felt for you. You had everything, Malfoy, and you lost everything with nobody to blame but yourself. The world will thank us once we're done getting rid of the likes of you."
"You're insane," was all Draco could utter, as his mind tried to comprehend what he had just been told. Numbness was settling in; even his thoughts quietened down as shock took over.
"No, Mister Malfoy, I can promise you I am of sound mind," Loch chuckled and raised his wand, sobering up instantly. "Enough chitter-chatter. It's time for the final part in your punishment."
Before Draco could even open his mouth, a beam of bright yellow light hit him straight in his chest and he choked when his lungs were forcibly squeezed together, like a large hand was clenching down around them. He choked and sputtered and tried to inhale, but the grip around his lungs only tightened and dark spots were appearing around the edges of his vision as panic completely blocked off his throat.
Before he lost consciousness again, the vice grip around his lungs suddenly disappeared and he coughed violently, his lungs burning, as he tried to inhale air as quickly as he could; becoming lightheaded.
"This is only the beginning," Loch stated coldly.
It was.
Curse after curse, hex after hex hit him, unleashing unimaginable agony upon him. There was the Cruciatus Curse for a moment, of which the pure agony was so indescribable he nearly tore his vocal cords to shreds with his screaming. There was the Slashing Curse, opening up deep cuts in his arms and legs. Salt was rubbed over those open wounds; his fingernails torn off; his kneecaps shattered; his ribs broken one by one, some of them poking straight through his skin. Several of his muscles were ripped apart, mangled between the fragments of broken bones. His blood turned into liquid fire at one point, burning him from the inside out. Invisible punches landed in his stomach and face, breaking his nose and slamming all the air out of him.
It was a never ending barrage of utter agony and his mind was lost in the white hot haze of pain, drowning him, pulling him under, making him beg for mercy and darkness, for anything to stop this pain, to relieve him of it.
Every cell in his body was screaming; snot and blood and Merlin knew what else dripping down his face, blood sluggishly welling up from his wounds, plop, plop, down on the floor.
He had lost his voice somewhere, his throat feeling like it was on fire, claws racking across the sensitive tissue, and it took him several moments to sluggishly realise the voices had stopped. He was nothing but a bleeding mess by now; no longer even able to cry. His life force was slowly draining away, darkness creeping up at the edges. The sound of his rattling breath filled his ears and he tasted nothing but blood.
It wouldn't be long anymore.
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the sudden silent room, bouncing back between the walls. Draco's head drooped down; all his strength had left him and he no longer had the energy to look up. Instead he stared blankly through one eye, his other too bruised and swollen to be of any use, and black shoes entered his hazy vision.
Fingers pushed his chin up and he was too far gone to even groan as the action caused even more pain to flare up, steadily pounding down on him, in him.
Loch clucked his tongue and shook his head ruefully. "You don't look that well, Mister Malfoy," he murmured, trying to catch Draco's eye.
The blond man just stared unseeingly at him, wishing for everything to just end.
"You know, we, the Band of the Rising Phoenix, we're not without mercy," Loch continued softly, slipping his other hand down into his pocket. "We won't let you suffer for too long anymore. In fact before we end your suffering, we'll give you one last gift."
A dark blue bottle was waved back and forth in front of Draco's face, but the throbbing pain made it difficult to concentrate on whatever was swirling inside it.
"You see, as our act of mercy for you, we will give you your memories back. Who doesn't want to leave this earth with as last image your loved ones? Realising just how much you hurt them?" Loch laughed cruelly and snatched blond hair, pulling back roughly.
Draco gasped and then something thick and cold suddenly was poured straight down his throat. For a moment nothing happened.
Then he was drowning.
He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. The ropes with which he was bound to the wall tugged at his wrists and he crawled closer to the wall. Straining his ears, he tried to pick any sound from the floor above him.
It remained eerily silent and he swallowed; his stomach cramping. Silence wasn't a good thing; not in this place.
He pulled his legs up, ignoring how his muscles protested, and hid his face against his knees; his heart hammering inside his chest. Tensed, he remained huddled in the corner, starting at every small creak and groan the building emitted.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the iron door opened, releasing that awful, deep groan that would haunt him in his dreams for nights to come. Carefully he raised his head and held his breath when the door of the cell was unlocked and Potter stumbled into view, looking more dead than alive. He was roughly pushed forwards and he fell down on his knees with a gasp, catching his fall with his hands before he buckled through them. Their cell was closed as quickly as it had been opened and the Dark Wizard who had captured Draco a – was it a week ago, two weeks, maybe more? – muttered something underneath his breath, ambling back the way he had come from. But not before casting new ropes around Potter's wrists, binding him as tightly as Draco was.
For a while the two men in the cell remained silent; Potter splayed out across the filthy floor as he panted, his face set in a pained grimace. Eventually he rose up on shaking arms and legs and flopped down next to Draco, clearly exhausted.
"He was supposed to take me." Draco froze as the words left his mouth and tensed up.
Potter turned his head slowly to him, blinking at him sluggishly through his smudged glasses. "I know," he said quietly. "I took your place instead." He shrugged as if he had just answered a question in class instead of having his magic forced to the surface and into the open, risking insanity.
"Why?" Draco had already resigned himself to his fate. If the Dark Wizard had even managed to capture and subdue Potter, he didn't stand any chance of surviving.
"Because you've already suffered enough," Potter continued in the same soft voice. He looked away and sighed. "You've been here for longer than I am. I can take it."
"You don't look like it," Draco snarked, digging his fingers into his legs.
Instead of being offended, Potter chuckled roughly. "No, I guess I don't," he agreed and then sank down against the wall. "He'll leave us alone for a while now, though." His eyes were drooping; his whole form screaming exhaustion.
Grey eyes studied his former rival carefully, noting the way his fingers kept twitching as if electric currents were going through them. "Rest, Potter," he muttered and glanced away; something odd twisting in his chest.
He didn't receive any reply, but then something warm pressed against his arm and he froze, turning his head slowly around. It was Potter, dead to the world and his head resting against Draco's arm.
He hesitated, debating whether he should do it or not, but then he carefully, slowly, brought his arm around Potter, arranging him more comfortably against his chest. Potter sighed in his sleep, but didn't wake up and that was perhaps the greatest sign of trust he could show. It made Draco swallow, feeling oddly like he had just been handed something precious. He looked away again, taking a shuddering breath.
He supposed there were worse people to be locked up with than Potter.
XXX
So far everything was going perfectly. Draco had managed to reserve a table for two at the Golden Rose, which hadn't been easy given its popularity during the evenings. It was one of the most expensive restaurants in England, yes, but his company tonight was more than worth the prices they asked here.
The food was delicious and the dark red Elven wine slid over his tongue like silk, warming him from the inside. Conversation was flowing well, interspersed with some laughter at times. So far, so good.
"I don't think she has ever forgiven him for ruining her favourite sweater," Draco smirked, finishing his story about the day Blaise had managed to spill two types of drinks and one Rainbow Colour Potion on Pansy's favourite cashmere sweater. Pansy's face had looked like she had swallowed the Rainbow Colour Potion once she had witnessed the damage it had done.
Harry laughed, throwing his head back, and Draco's smirk deepened into a pleased smile. He had been nervous the whole time ever since Harry had agreed to go on a date with him two days ago and the fear of screwing up still lurked in the back of his mind. Certainly, since surviving the torture of the Dark Wizard, they had been on better terms, but being on good terms didn't automatically guarantee a successful date. Especially because he hadn't been certain that Harry would be open to dating men. More specifically: whether he would have been open to dating Draco.
Imagine his shock when the dark haired man had said yes to his date proposal. Once out of sight of everyone, he had actually cast a mild Stinging Hex on himself to check whether he had been dreaming or not.
He knew other people would think they were going too quickly – Weasley especially had not kept it a secret how he distrusted Draco's motive for wanting to date Harry. But he didn't care. This felt right and if in the end it didn't work out, well, at least they had tried. He would just take it one day at a time.
"Did she take revenge?" Harry asked amused, taking a sip of his own glass of wine. His eyes were shining like the gemstone they resembled in the candles floating around them.
The blond man scoffed. "Of course she did. It's Pansy; she wouldn't let something like that go unpunished."
Harry leant forwards, looking interested. "What did she do?"
"She cursed all his clothes to turn into an ugly mustard yellow with bright blue spots for a month – which was the month in which he had several important appointments," Draco replied, shaking his head. He was still torn between feeling amused and sympathetic towards Blaise. Mustard yellow really wasn't the man's colour.
The dark haired man whistled impressed. "Damn, remind me to never piss her off," he said admiringly.
A pleasant jolt went through Draco as he realised the implications of Harry's comment and he couldn't help but duck his head down when he felt his cheeks heat up a bit. Such a remark – that could only mean Harry wasn't opposed to watching this thing unfold between them, right?
A shadow fell over them and Draco looked up surprised, wondering whether it was a fan of Harry's. He clenched his jaw when he met cool, blue eyes.
Astoria Greengrass was standing next to the table; her hair done in those soft curls she tended to favour. Her dark blue robes were form fitting and some kind of silver thread was worked into the edges of her sleeves, forming little roses. She met grey eyes for a moment before her gaze landed on Harry, who blinked and stared back questioningly.
"Yes, can we help you?" he asked curiously, lowering his knife and fork to his plate.
She ignored him and turned to look at Draco again; her face resembling that of a stone statue. "You ended our courtship for this?" Her voice was frosty, but her eyes were spitting fire.
Draco tensed and felt green eyes resting on him. It was true that he had started courting Astoria a while ago, but he had broken that courtship two weeks ago. It wasn't as if they had been courting for that long either. The beginning stage had barely started when Draco had realised Astoria wasn't a great match for him. Partly because he had realised his interest in Harry ran deeper than just being friends, but also because she was just too dull for him. She had gone along with everything he had suggested; there wasn't any real fire. He might as well court a puppet.
"I told you why, Astoria," he answered clipped, narrowing his eyes slightly.
She snorted, an ugly sound that did nothing to improve Draco's opinion of her, and addressed Harry. "I do not understand what he sees in you, considering the differences," she stated, wrinkling her nose, "and I would feel offended if I thought you had any chance of keeping his attention for long. As it stands, enjoy your time with him, for I assure you it will not last long." She sniffed and abruptly turned around; her heels tapping loudly on the tiles as she left the restaurant with her older sister following her with a frown.
"What a pleasant woman," Harry remarked flatly; his face giving nothing away.
Draco grimaced and rubbed his forehead; his appetite completely gone now. It had all started so well … Of course it had to go sideways.
"I swear that this between us is not some passing fancy as she would like you to believe," he said, hoping to Merlin Astoria hadn't just managed to fuck up everything between them.
"It's a good thing that I'm not that easy to influence then," Harry retorted, faintly smiling.
The younger man didn't appear offended, but Draco had a hard time relaxing after that interruption, dreading the end of their date. Harry had said he wasn't easily influenceable, but well …
Their past together wasn't that great after all.
All too soon they were standing in front of the door of Grimmauld Place Twelve – a temporary residence Harry had assured him with a grimace.
Harry broke the awkward silence with a small smile, fiddling with the clasp of his robes. "Well, I had a great time," he said brightly.
Draco eyed him suspiciously. "I can't tell whether you're lying or not," he admitted begrudgingly.
"Why would I be lying?" Harry raised an eyebrow, regarding the blond wizard bemused.
"First dates usually don't tend to get interrupted by spiteful people," Draco pointed out tersely.
"Well, I've never done things the usual or normal way," Harry remarked lightly, nudging Draco's arm playfully. When Draco looked away with his lips pursed, the dark haired man sighed softly and surprised the other one by grabbing his hand. "Really, Draco, I had a great time and I'm looking forward to our next date."
That made Draco whip his head around and his eyes widened. "You mean it?" he asked and he hated how uncertain he sounded. "Because Astoria is wrong. You're not – you're not just some fling to me."
Harry's features softened and he nodded. "Yes, I mean it. I'm not planning on listening to her anyway." He paused and the corners of his mouth pulled up in a mischievous smile. "Now, are you going to kiss me or do I need to make the first move?"
"So bossy," Draco murmured, but lowered his head and a soft sound of surprise left his throat when he connected with Harry's lips sooner than he expected. They were soft and pliable underneath his and he slipped his hands down Harry's back, pulling him closer.
Their kiss started off hesitant, but the second Draco put more pressure behind it, it was as if a fire had been lit and Harry returned his kiss hungrily, pressing himself impossibly close towards the taller man. Their lips moved, their tongues brushed briefly together and fireworks went off in Draco's head; heat quickly building up in his lower stomach.
It was as if he had been deprived of oxygen for ages and now he was tasting the sweet air in the form of Harry's mouth against his.
Their mouths separated with a wet gasp and they stood there, panting for a while, their lungs greedily taking in the cool night air, as they got lost in each other's eyes.
"So, eh, second date?" Harry questioned in a high voice; cheeks coloured a rose red.
"Second date, yeah," Draco agreed, his voice rough, and his arms tightened around Harry's waist.
Yeah, second date sounded marvellous.
XXX
He was directing the last pile of shirts into the large wardrobe when he became aware of eyes resting upon his back. With a flick of his wand, the door of the wardrobe closed with a quiet 'click' and he turned around with one eyebrow raised.
"Ron and Hermione left just now, together with Andromeda and Teddy," Harry informed him; his black hair sticking up wildly as if he had been hit multiple times by lightning.
"Did they now?" Draco hummed, sticking his wand in his pocket. He cast a glance around their bedroom and nodded satisfied. All the boxes had been unpacked and everything was in its rightful place.
Harry sidled up to him, running his hand lightly over Draco's arm. "This is officially our house now," he said triumphantly; his eyes glittering excitedly. "We're living together now."
"I am aware of that, considering I've done nothing today but unpack boxes," Draco retorted dryly, but he couldn't help a smile from forming on his face, fuelled by the giddiness at finally sharing a house with his boyfriend.
This house was theirs now. Theirs to build their lives together in, the one where they would one day start a family perhaps. A place that was their own only, not shared with parents, and protected by wards even stronger than those around Malfoy Manor.
Theirs. A word had never sounded more pleasing than that one at the moment.
"I think we should celebrate this, us living together," Harry murmured, his eyes half lidded now; the corners of his mouth twisted up in that peculiar way that instantly had Draco stirring with interest.
"And how would you celebrate this?" Draco asked innocently; his eyes lingering on reddened lips. He yelped in surprise when strong hands pushed him over and he landed on the bed, bouncing once, twice.
He was just sitting up right when his lap was filled with a slender, warm body, pressing their groins together. Arms slipped around his neck, resting on his shoulders loosely and Harry started grinding his hips against his, lowering his head to breathe against Draco's mouth.
"You, me, naked in this bed," he moaned and the sound shot straight into Draco's crotch and he shivered, hands clutching at Harry's hips.
"Sometimes you really have the best ideas, Potter," Draco whispered and their lips met in a hungry, deep kiss as their hands pulled and tugged at their clothes until the items flew through the air and landed Merlin knew where in the room.
Draco didn't care about them, though. All he cared about was naked, warm, and currently intent on sucking his brain out. His shout was swallowed against bruised, swollen lips and then he was preparing Harry, his turn to drive the man crazy, before entering him smoothly, Harry's groan vibrating against his ear.
They had done it many times before, in various positions, but Draco thought he would never get tired of him, of this man he was madly in love with, with whom he was now living together.
With whom he would be building a family one day.
XXX
"We don't know yet how he will react to the potions. Unfortunately there is a fifty-five percent chance he'll react badly to them and his condition will worsen. When that happens …"
Draco had shut himself off from the conversation at that point. Let Granger listen to the Healer rambling about how they couldn't do shit for Harry.
Heart pounding in his chest, feeling so sick he could throw up any second now, he burst into the room, staring at the lonely bed, surrounded by nothing but white.
He had received the Patronus half an hour ago; Weasley's dog Patronus shakily informing him that the mission had gone horribly wrong and Harry had been brutally attacked by a Manticore.
On unsteady legs Draco approached the bed, flashing hot and cold, as he took in the damage. Harry's entire torso was swaddled into thick, white bandages; the cloyingly sweet and sour scent of the Healing Potions slathered on his skin lingering in the air like fumes. The Manticore had slashed him heavily, the cut so deep his intestines had been on the verge of falling out. His arms bore similar bandages from both bite and claw marks. Some cuts gleamed red on his cheeks and forehead.
The damage of the Manticore's claws had been bad enough – bad, but easily treatable. But in his haste to push Weasley out of the way, his shoulder had been grazed by the Manticore's tail. The fact that it had grazed him was both a blessing and a curse: a full on sting would have meant instant death, but a fraction of the poison had still managed to enter the man's bloodstream.
The Healers had pumped him full of antidotes and Healing Potions, but now it was all a matter of waiting. Either Harry survived or he didn't.
Knees abruptly giving out, Draco fell down on the hard chair next to the bed, not even registering how uncomfortable it felt. All his attention was focused on the sickly pale man in the bed, the man he had been together with for more than a year already.
The man who held his heart and could shatter it any moment now.
He enfolded Harry's closest hand between his, registering how awfully cold it felt against his warm skin. He swallowed a lump down his throat and fixed his gaze on Harry's face, feeling like he would go mad if he looked at his chest any longer.
So many bandages and still the blood was slowly seeping through …
"You can't die, you hear me?" he whispered heatedly, paying no attention to the hot tears tracking fiery paths down his cheeks. "You can't. You're not allowed to die, I won't let you!"
Closing his eyes he pressed Harry's limp, cold hand against his forehead, willing it to move, for the fingers to unfurl and curl around his own. Wishing desperately for forest green eyes to open and a teasing voice to taunt him for crying when hey, it wasn't even that bad!
But Harry's hand remained cold and limp, his chest barely moving.
"I swear to Merlin, Potter, I will drag you back from hell if I have to and I will kick your arse for daring to leave me behind!" Draco swore, squeezing Harry's hand tightly. "You can't – you can't leave me, okay? You fucking survived the Dark Lord, you can't let some measly cat defeat you now, okay? That's not … You're Harry Potter."
Harry remained quiet, not even stirring a little bit.
His voice broke when he continued, his vision going blurry with tears, "You bloody prat, you can't die! I haven't even told you I love you yet! I love you, you reckless idiot!"
"So it takes - fighting off a Manticore to get a Malfoy to be open about his feelings. Good to know."
Draco's head shot up and he stared in shock at Harry, whose eyes were opening slowly. The man continued in a rough voice, interlaced with coughing, "Can I hear it next time without – without fighting a Manticore, though? I like my intestines where they are."
"You fucking idiot!" Draco hissed, but his kiss was desperate, hungry, and yet still careful, not wanting to aggravate Harry's injuries.
He was awake. He was awake. Awake and talking. The thought kept bouncing through his relieved mind; his heart doing all kinds of summersaults in his chest. He startled when cold fingers brushed against his cheek and they shone wet when pulled back.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Malfoy," Harry quipped tiredly; his hand dropping back down on the bed.
"I'm holding you to that," Draco promised and sniffled, gazing into exhausted, green eyes. "I love you," he murmured.
A smile and a weak squeeze in his hand. "I love you too."
XXX
Harry started laughing and before Draco could rise up and storm away offended, a little, dark green box was pulled out of Harry's pocket.
His lover opened the box, revealing a golden ring with a single emerald stone. "Looks like we were both thinking the same thing. Only this time you were quicker."
"So that's a yes?" Draco smirked, but his heart skipped a beat when Harry nodded and grinned.
"That's definitely a yes! Yes, I want to marry you!" Harry laughed and then they were kissing, stumbling onto the couch and when Draco studied both their fingers later that night, both wearing each other's ring, he knew.
This was right. This was everything.
XXX
Their first fight as a couple. The both of them storming away before they met up a couple of hours later and made peace in bed.
Colouring together with Teddy while Harry was preparing dinner.
Introducing Harry officially to his parents and feeling infinitely pleased when mother immediately closed him in her arms.
Watching tenderly how the love of his life was laughing and talking with his mother.
Discovering Harry was pregnant. The joy, the anticipation, the love for the tiny being in his fiancé's belly growing with each day that passed. Discussing names and colour schemes for the nursery.
Cuddling on the couch. Sharing breakfast in bed.
Racing each other on their brooms. Travelling to Paris to celebrate their one year anniversary.
Taking care of Harry's injuries when the man managed to yet again get hurt on his missions.
Sneaking kisses. Late night talking right before going to sleep.
The immense love and desire he felt for the other man filling him to the brim.
Realising Harry was it for him.
Knowing he was everything.
Draco stared numbly at the floor as more and more memories filled his head, returning to their rightful place.
He remembered all the things he did with Harry; a gap, which he hadn't realised existed, filling up quickly with the deep love he felt for the dark haired man, slotting that one missing piece into place.
Realising how badly he had fucked up.
A choked sound escaped him at the realisation. He had thought he had known pain but this. This was much worse. Remembering all the vile words he had spat at Harry, the way he had kept pushing him away, not giving him any chance …
Knowing that his son had been born, but he didn't even know how he looked like, what his name was. The son he had been looking forward to, who he had loved from the moment he knew Harry was pregnant …
He had nothing anymore. He had lost everything that had made his life rich.
And it was all his fault. How could he have done this? How could he have hurt Harry like that?
How could he have hurt the man he was in love with?
How could he have done this?
There was a loud commotion nearby, the door suddenly slamming open and then there was shouting and screaming and spells being fired off.
Draco didn't care. He wanted everything to just end. After what he had done to Harry, the way he had hurt him and belittled him … He didn't deserve him or their son.
They had been right: he was nothing but scum. How could he have done this to the man he loved?
There was suddenly someone in front of him, cursing and casting spells at the shackles and then he was lowered down and he wanted to close his eyes and just …
Forget.
But then arms wrapped around him, a choked voice calling out his name, and he raised his eyes with the last of the strength he had left.
And he met pained, deep green eyes.
He broke.
"Sorry, so sorry. I'm so sorry," he cried, knowing he wouldn't be forgiven. Not for this.
"I've got you. I've got you, I promise." A warm hand cupped his cheek carefully and Draco turned his head towards it, selfishly wanting to feel his touch one last time.
Just one last time before he …
And then nothing.
AN2: Sooooo ... Did it meet your expectations? Some of the things in this chapter will be addressed with more nuances in the next chapter.
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I see you all in the next chapter, which will be posted on the 17th of November!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Nothing, Everything