Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Intangible	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-CH8
- 9-CH9
- 10-CH10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-CH19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-CH22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-Ch25
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter Fourteen
Harry found Jaz still at the window, sitting on the ground with his head in his hands, notebook discarded on the floor. The man looked up at his approach, blue eyes narrowing behind the magical glasses, focusing on Harry and the pen and notebook he was carrying.
“You need to know something, Mr. Potter...” Jaz stopped, looking up and around to make sure they were alone in the hallway. Harry nodded, but kept walking so he could look out the window to see the dragons. He frowned, finding them lying on the ground instead of sitting, all in small groups and still outside the border of the forest. They had moved, but at least they weren't closer to the castle. He counted them, just to make sure none had slipped his notice of the twenty-three that had been there when he had left, and then turned to Jaz.
The specialist had not bothered to stand, so Harry sat next to the man so he could read his writing with ease. What do I need to know?
Jaz took a moment to answer, looking hesitant but determined. “You're changing that boy. Just now, in the classroom. His beast form has changed again.”
Frowning, Harry tried not to think how everything on the fifth plane was just swirls of colors from magic and the very solid forms of Draco and the Vesper, and Harry. The glasses would have made it very easy for Jaz to see them, whether the man had intended to or not. Harry would not mention it to Draco—the prat would never let him touch him again.
Harry shifted his vision to the other plane, looking towards where he could feel Draco calling even now. It was greater than before—not as bad as when the boy had seen the Vesper, but still noticeable. “Oh—for fuck sake! How the hell are those going to help anything?” Harry asked no one in particular, scowling as he saw Draco's new wings, small and fluffy, and absolutely going to get Harry in trouble.
What is happening to him? Do the shifters have wings? Do any of them have wings?
“The Kalistar have wings, but much larger, and of course, the antlers.” Jaz said with a shake to his head, not looking in Draco's direction. “His tail and hair feathers have also grown again. To put it bluntly, every orgasm that boy has with you is changing his magic. I cannot say if it is the same without you—I have not been so compelled to look, but I definitely saw the change just now. Bloody serves me right too... the damn light nearly burned my retinas...” Jaz muttered, not looking pleased.
Harry tapped his pen to the notebook idly. So... what? Is this a problem? A good thing? Running for the hills thing? What the hell does it mean?
“I have no idea. I have never known any beast to respond to sex in such a way. He is growing stronger, more powerful magically, and his aura is calling louder. For all we know this is common with the Vesper. Or it could be an anomaly. I just thought it needed to be brought to your attention, seeing as you are half of the cause.”
Harry sighed long and low, echoing Jaz's slumped position of earlier. Something else to worry about. Now something to worry about every time he wanted to have sex. Fuck.
Which also got Harry wondering about the other thing he worried about every time he was alone with Draco.
Jaz, I need your help with something. I need a spell to make sure no one can remove that ring off of Draco. Not me, and not those creatures outside.
“Is that a concern?” Jaz hummed, glancing behind him through the castle wall at the dragons lying on the ground.
A huge concern. I fight my beast every time to keep from taking it from him. And those things out there
Harry paused, glancing through the wall as well as the creatures started to slowly move, sitting up unsteadily. What happened to them? Were they fighting amongst themselves?
Jaz raised a brow at him, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache. “They were rutting, Potter. The two of you raised so much sex energy that the creatures damn near blacked out. Some of them literally did when Malfoy there started glowing. Thankfully it seems to be contained to just your realm because I dread to think of the effects of such energy on a castle full of hormonal teenagers. The things out there were brutal enough.”
“Fuck, they do want him... Fuck!” Harry stood with a scowl, pacing agitatedly in the wide hall. Just as quickly he was crouched again, writing furiously.
I need him protected! Barriers, wards—armies! I don't care what, but he needs to be safe if I am dead!
“The Vesper taught me how to traverse the dimensional planes. I do not know if I have knowledge that they can't overcome.” Jaz's voice was even, but his face revealed how concerned he was, dark lips set in a deep frown.
How long do I have if I don't go through with the spell? How many weeks would I have to protect him?
“It would not be weeks, you fool. Have you not even looked at yourself?” Jaz snapped. “You'll be lucky if you last this week.”
Harry looked down at himself for the first time in a long time while looking through the fifth plane. He was bleeding... a lot. Every large splotch of black was now covered in red, looking wet but not moving under his hand. “Shit...”
“That is the end result of sex with him on your body, Potter. You change when he changes. And it is not pretty.” Jaz gave a heavy sigh, fingers running through his white waves. “He is speeding your progression, pulling your towards reality but still without a way to ground you into it. Voldemort's damage is catching up, and fast. If you want to hold on, I would recommend not touching the boy again.”
Harry growled, knowing that was damn near impossible. Not just because it was Draco and he was sexy and gorgeous and Harry wanted to make up for every moment he had not been touching him. But because if those fucking things outside called for Draco too loud, Harry needed to make sure he was louder. There was no way to make such a demand and not follow through, not anymore.
A spell for the ring, please, sir. And some sort of barrier, just to try. He's going to need help and he won't ask for it. Please.
“You do not need to ask. We all owe you enough.”
Harry blinked, nodding after a moment. Right, Voldemort. That thing that Harry had survived—or maybe not. That thing that had changed the world around him, while his had gone so still... and Draco's too.
This is all I ask of everyone, Jaz. For what I have done and sacrificed, I want only one thing in return. Protect Draco.
Staring at the paper a long moment, Jaz stood, stretching out his cramped legs. “You will have it, Harry.”

Harry spent Wednesday morning with Ron and Hermione during their study period. Jaz had lent the magical glasses to Draco, who had refused to wear them outside the bedroom for fear of seeing the Vesper. Draco then proceeded not to wear them while in the bedroom either, Harry suspecting that his appearance was just a bit too bloodied for the boy, even if Harry did not feel much pain still. Ron had refused to wear the glasses after a quick look at Harry, but Hermione had them perched on her nose, fearless as always even in the face of this.
Pen in hand, notebook underneath, and Hermione's steady gaze on him, Harry almost felt like a person.
“Yes, well Blaise is excitable,” Hermione said slowly, her fingers fiddling with the notebook pages. “But honestly Harry, after hearing everything, I really can't blame him. You were a bit mad last year, if you can remember. And the situation is... well, odd. You have to admit that, at least.”
Harry didn't, and was not really interested in doing so, even for his best friends. I was not mad last year.
Ron snorted, placing both hands on the table as if he were going to get up and leave, but then stayed, fixed on the swirl of light over Harry's form. It showed where Harry was but not the extent of his wounds, which seemed easier on Ron. They were in the Gryffindor common room, no other students there to bother them while they talked. They had pulled soft chairs around the coffee table, Harry sending enough magic into his to make it solid to his weight. He could not smell the air, and sound was very much a bit muffled, but it was still very familiar, comforting territory.
“Har, you would do a one-eighty every time he walked in a room. A month before school was out you were like a damn yo-yo. You'd be fine, yourself, and then wham!—Draco Malfoy. You couldn't look at anything else, you couldn't talk about anything else. Pretty sure you weren't thinking of anything else either. You once took a header down the moving staircase when he walked by—And I swear, I think it was on purpose because you wanted the git to see if you were okay.” Ron was shaking his head in a mix between disbelief and disgust.
Harry scratched the tip of his nose, trying to think back. Once Harry had found himself in the echo of life, real life had sort of fuzzed away out of his mind. He knew things, innately, like he always took for granted when being solid and among the rest of the world. But he hadn't really thought of living, not for months now. It had been difficult, sad even, to think back to how things used to be.
Harry had taken a header down the moving staircase, but it hadn't been on purpose. He had very much gotten dizzy, looking up and seeing Malfoy, silver eyes glancing his direction and then quickly slipping away. That Harry had happened to land right at the prat's feet had been an embarrassing, and at the same time serendipitous, coincidence. Looking back, Harry could see the things he hadn't known to look for back then. Like the way Draco's nostrils had flared when he had helped haul Harry up to his feet. The flush on his face, that Harry had brusquely told himself was just exertion on Malfoy's part and not interest. The ever skittering gaze that seemed determined to look anywhere but directly at Harry.
Malfoy had called him a klutz, and said Harry should watch his back because tripping over the Dark Lord wasn't going to save his life. And then the gaze had been locked on him, silver boring in, warning... pleading... Harry never knew. During those moments all he ever wanted to do was kiss the boy. Such need would rise up in him, staring in those expectant eyes. Draco was beautiful—brilliant, determined to die to be free, and beyond gorgeous.
“It wasn't just Malfoy, Harry. You were different that last month. You were... aggressive. I had thought maybe it was some weird latent puberty thing, like you just got hit with a ton of testosterone.” Hermione broke in. “Harry... you were kind of a prick.”
Ron nodded. “You were totally a prick. Moody, explosive—Not the way the Slytherins were, but yeah, when someone crossed you, you stomped them in their place. And if it was Malfoy—well, you were just fucking weird every time it had to do with Malfoy. Staring—I think I caught you smelling his hair once. Realizing the two of you were alone, and you could actually touch him has been more than concerning once we started thinking back to last year. I mean... he's kind of delicate...” Ron trailed off, frowning at his perception of Draco. “Not delicate... Shit, yes, kind of delicate.”
“He's... sensitive,” Hermione supplied. “This last year I really thought he was going to have a break down. I had never noticed—I always just wanted to hex the prat for the crap he used to do. But after you told us what you heard—”
“And started acting like a royal, lovestruck idiot,” Ron added with a sizable smirk that Hermione mirrored.
“Yes, that... Well, we couldn't help but notice him. He's an interesting bloke. And we like Blaise and Pansy—although Blaise is trying at times. But he means well and that's the important part. Anyways, our point is, we didn't want to see Draco hurt. Even by you. Especially by you because, well, let's face it Harry, you could do the most damage. Not because of your power or invisibility or anything, but because Malfoy obviously cares about you.”
Drumming his fingers on the notebook, Harry nodded distractedly. He did not know how to tell his friends that Draco was totally his. Even last year, even that summer when Harry had thought the boy dead and wondered if he was going to end up similar. The moment Draco had admitted to not wanting to be a Death Eater was the moment he became Harry's. Part of why Harry could not explain this was because he did not fully understand it himself. But he had grown stronger after that moment, taller, meaner when he needed to be. Harry had changed because Draco was going to be his, and he needed to be strong enough to protect him.
Have you learned anything useful about the Kalistar and Vesper? Something about how they interact with each other maybe. I think whatever Draco is makes me the way I am.
“I did some preliminary stuff. There really isn't a lot out there. I guess they're private creatures and anyone who goes near their village ends up dead.” Hermione gave Harry a concerned look. “Harry, if you survive this, you're going to be one of them—full instinct, full animal. You might not be yourself. You might not even remember yourself. Beast awakenings can be pretty intense, and you're clearly head over heals for Malfoy on human and beast level. We're worried.”
You think I'm going to hurt him. I would never.
“We're worried,” Ron said sternly, repeating Hermione's words. “No one knows what you're going to do—and neither do you, so don't fucking pretend with us. I know you're freaking out thinking the Vesper are going to drag him away, but hell, Har, it might just be you dragging him off into the forest at the end of all this.”
Harry scowled, more angry that there was truth to what his friends were saying than anything else. He can stop me if he wants. He knows how to make me behave.
“Yes, well, as interesting a visual image as that is, I don't think it's necessarily foolproof,” Hermione said with a faint blush. “Maybe you decide you don't want him to control you? You could knock him out, spell him asleep, tie him up—you're a powerful wizard, Harry. Even more so, since you defeated Voldemort.”
Staring at his oldest, sweetest friend, Harry had to wonder when Hermione had started thinking of him capable of tying Draco up and having his way with the boy. Although... hardly a terrible though... especially with the way Draco fucking moaned about everything...
“He's doing it again, isn't he?” Ron muttered to Hermione, watching Harry's magic shift. Hermione nodded, a half frown quirking her lips. “See, Har? You're fucking sitting there thinking about him again, spacing out and he's not even in the room. What the hell is it going to be like once the beast is in control and not just whispering in your ear?”
Shit, will you stop worrying over everything? Whatever is going to happen is going to happen, and there isn't a damn thing worrying is going to do except piss me off. And him, for that matter. He hates that no one is listening to him and thinking they all know best. I need you to stop butting in on the unimportant stuff and make sure he's protected!
Harry finished with a large exclamation point, narrowing his gaze on Hermione. The girl was glaring back, cracking her knuckles in a way that suggested she was moments from one of her nagging rants.
We'll worry about it if I live, okay? Bigger thing is making sure we have a defense against the Vesper.
Hermione relented, glare lightening. Ron was tussling his hair, looking irritated but not arguing about it. “You need to stop throwing that in our face, Har. Having to bite our tongues because you may be dead is just shit.”
“Fuck.” Harry sighed, turning to a fresh page. Sorry. I'm worried too, and this is the only way I know to deal with it. There are so many things I have no say in. I won't compromise on Draco's safety, even though I have little power to do anything about that either.
Ron rolled his eyes, Hermione snorting softly. “Seriously, Har, that's bullshit. You got the most powerful witch in Hogwarts on the case, and well, hey, no one says no to me when I get my family to help. We'll get it sorted out, and you damn well know it.”
I do. That's why I came to you.
“I want to start researching now before your spell. I want as much time as possible before you're either out of commission to heal, or because you're dead.” Hermione said bluntly, standing up and reaching for her book-bag. “And you should be by Malfoy's side, making sure none of those dragons are stalking him. Make sure to say goodbye before the spell, Harry. Don't forget.” She was nearly out the door before Harry stopped her, gently removing the glasses from her face.
Hermione smiled ruefully, carefully touching Harry's magic-soaked cheek. “Thanks Harry, for giving us something to do. It's... it's been a difficult year, summer was horrible... and I feel like I can at least do this for you. I hope.” She frowned, her hand slipping and passing through Harry's head. “Sorry...”
Harry just smiled sadly, Ron coming up behind the girl with his things and the two walking out the portrait door to get to the library. They were trying really hard not to get their hopes up, Harry could see that clearly. Bad enough thinking he had died the first time—putting them through that again felt cruel. It had been the biggest reason Harry had avoided talking to them too much. Guilt was a damn terrible burden, and Harry imagined if he allowed himself to indulge he would never be able to lift himself up again.
But Draco needed his help for as long as Harry was here. And although Harry might be the type to battle dark wizards alone, he was also the type to get as much help as he could on solving problems. Collecting his notebook and pen, Harry let the glow fade from his skin so he was once again invisible. He would peek out again at the dragons and make sure they hadn't moved, and then find Draco and see how the boy was coping.

Draco was not certain how it had happened, but his Wednesday morning had ended with him locked in Dumbledore's office with his mother and Serene Vellamorn, his fiancé to be. He had been called from class to the headmaster's office for vague reasons he had assumed had to do with Harry's spell coming up, only to find his mother and fiancé there, twin delicate smiles on their pale, pinched faces. It smelled of ambush, and Draco was immediately alert for foul play.
There was something wrong with Draco, something he was only starting to really comprehend. The last couple days he had been laughing quite crazily—odd, random bursts of joy and noise jolting through him. It was almost like he was sparking like Harry was, but instead of energy flashing, it was feeling rushing up and to the surface. Staring at Narcissa, looking perfectly elegant in her lace, and Serene looking a damn near double, except younger and shorter and very much waif with large blue eyes and long blond hair, Draco found himself laughing at their expectant faces.
“Draco, are you well?” Narcissa asked, stepping forward but not reaching out to touch her son. Draco noticed it, his mother having never held him once that he could recall, and it only made him laugh harder.
Serene took a different approach, smiling bemusedly and gently touching Draco's arm. “He is excited. It must have been such a surprise to find us both here. I'm glad I insisted on coming to finalize the arrangements. Draco, you are near glowing.”
Eyes widening at the implication, Draco's laughter faded as suddenly as it started. His mother was glaring at him, her eyes running down his arm to see that indeed his father's ring was still in place. The anger in her eyes did something to him. It was like looking into a challenging predator, and today Draco was feeling very much a predator. “Yes, Serene, I glow now. I also laugh. I hope you aren't too disappointed.”
Serene's laugh was like a crystal bell, lilting through the air. “Oh, Draco, you jest. How could I ever be disappointed in a husband such as you?”
Draco had not seen Serene in at least three years, and yet the girl was as ridiculously familiar with him as if they had grown up in the same house—well, a house that wasn't Malfoy Manor, anyways. More like a Weasley house, where family members talked to each other instead of plotted against. It was extremely confusing, and Draco tore his challenging gaze from his mother to access the girl that would be his fiancé.
“You're drunk,” Draco muttered, stepping away from the clinging girl.
Serene blinked lovely blue eyes at him, her small mouth pursing slightly. “Draco, you're teasing me...”
Draco shook his head, even though he smelled no alcohol. “Inebriated—something is off...” He glared, rounding on his mother. “Are you out of your mind? Whose benefit is this for? Hers to keep her from upsetting me, or mine? That you would do it without her knowledge is beyond inappropriate.”
Narcissa stiffened, clasping her hands tightly. “What choice did you give me? If she were to truly see you now—”
“What? Am I wearing a huge fucking rainbow or something? What the hell would make you think she would know a damn thing?” Draco stopped, a terrible laugh tearing free from him as he remembered how he had woken up just that morning.
It had been to Harry's hands on his body, his hot invisible mouth slowly sucking Draco's waking erection, swallowing him down until the world had faded away to nothing. And then, before Draco could ask for more, to feel Harry inside him again—because that was all Draco ever seemed to want now was to be full and tight with the boy inside him—Harry had streamed hot cum all over his thighs and stomach. It had been so surprising, so fucking arousing that Draco had thought he was going to come again. And then Harry had rubbed the fluid into him, leaving Draco to walk around with drying seed all day in the hopes of keeping the Vesper at bay.
It wasn't a rainbow, but he was definitely wearing a shit ton of gay all over.
“This is not about your proclivities, my son,” Narcissa said tersely, eyes glancing to Serene and then back to Draco. “Serene, dear, please give me a moment to speak with Draco. He is clearly distraught over Lucius's condition.”
“Oh, leave the girl. She won't be the first pureblood to marry a gay man,” Draco said with a sneer. “I'm sure her closet is full of something just as shocking, otherwise she would not have agreed to begin with.”
Serene, looking dazed and confused, took a seat when Narcissa offered it. “I can assure you, Serene's heritage is impeccable. The only thing she faces is some black magic tarnishing.”
“Well, as long as it's not beast tarnished, right mother?”
“Draco, hold your tongue!” Narcissa's masks were down, and Draco was surprised at the fear in her eyes. Yes, her voice was full of anger, but his mother was terrified. “Tell me, and do not mince words. Have you lain with one of them? Is that why you are glowing? Have you taken the ring off and... and soiled yourself in such a way?”
Taken aback, Draco snapped his mouth shut with an audible click. Something dark and hot twisted his stomach, and he remembered briefly the feeling right after seeing the white dragons for the first time. “Why would you... You mean the Vesper, right?”
Narcissa looked torn, small hands pulling at the front of her immaculate dress. Suddenly she pulled her wand, spelling Serene asleep before tucking it back away. “Draco, please, I must know. We will... we will find a way around it, but if they have claimed you...”
Draco actually felt sorry for the woman, her fear flavoring the air around them. “Mother, I can assure you, I have not lain, as you so put it, with any dragons.”
Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief, her hand touching her forehead. “Your father warned me about this school, that it had a pack living in the forest. But they were never thought to go near the castle and you had showed no signs of the blood. You mustn't go near the forest, Draco. As you are, they will surely steal you away.”
That feeling again, now clawing up his throat, breathing heat and making his skin prickle goosebumps. “...Why, mother? What the hell do they want with me?”
Closing her eyes, Narcissa took a deep breath. She was paler than normal, sweat glistening at her hairline. “I am not certain... Conner never returned to tell us.”
“Conner?” Draco frowned, his mother not one for being so familiar.
“Your uncle, Lucius's brother. There was only ever one ring.”
Draco hissed, staring down at his hand. “Father had a brother... with the beast blood.” And no one had told him. It must have been damning, to erase his own sibling. Lucius was cold hearted, but his own brother? It had to have been terrible.
“He was younger than your father. The Malfoys only ever have one male child a generation, the females free of the curse. But your grandfather had ignored tradition. He had been free of the cursed blood...” Narcissa stopped, eyes straying again to Serene as if to ensure she still slept. “Then he sired two sons with it. Lucius wore the ring and stayed the same. Conner changed. He looked... he looked like you now, Draco, before he left with them.”
Draco's skin was crawling, but it was not as unpleasant as he wished it was. It was lust just as much as fear, shivering through his flesh, whispering in his ear. Draco had spent his entire life thinking there was no place for him to be but in his home, with his parents, doing as he was told. Yet today he had woken up to his father in prison as a monster, an uncle living with a pack of wild animals, and Harry touching him and covering him just like one. It was thrilling and awful, the entire world opening up to him but such a dark path yawning for him to follow.
“What happened to him? Did he... was he willing?” He asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.
Narcissa took a long time to answer, and Draco saw she did not want to, her mouth tight in fear. “Mother, please. How can I protect myself if I don't know everything?”
“I don't think you want protection. I think... I fear they have snared you even now.”
Again fire rushed up his spine, Draco's skin flushing at the very thought. “Mother, you must help me.”
“Yes... Your father cannot, so I must.” Narcissa nodded, her eyes again closing as if she could not bear to see Draco and speak at the same time. “Conner was fifteen when he visited friends by the Red Forest for summer. Lucius and I were married already, two years. The boy had been an excellent marksman, even so young, and I was told they spent weeks out there among the trees.”
“That's where...”
“Yes, the Vesper had a pack. Conner spoke of hearing something while in the woods. It had frightened him beyond anything he had ever feared before. He had seemed quite normal before then, even ordinary, unlike Lucius with his white hair and skin. No one suspected that he was tainted...” Narcissa suddenly stepped towards Draco, her hands outreached and her eyes almost beseeching. It was so unlike his mother that Draco flinched away.
“Draco, no one knew, you have to understand.” She let her hands fall to her side, then quickly clenched them together. “He was so normal. Such a sweet boy, not a mean bone in him. They found him in the night while he camped. Conner could feel them, their presence, and he could hear their howls. The pack killed his three companions while they slept—they never even knew there was danger. And then... He spoke as if a spell had descended upon him... A fire overcame him... and he could not control his body...”
“Shit—shit!” Draco wrapped his arms around his chest, trying to fight the way his body was reacting to the words. Narcissa paused, staring at him, worry deep in her eyes. Had his mother ever looked to care for him before? Even when faced with Voldemort, even after he had tried to take his own life? Was this so terrible that his mother could finally see her son was a human worthy of affection?
“Somehow he managed to escape in the morning, the fire quenched and the beasts asleep. Something dark was there, something with antlers that helped lead him from the enchanted forest and back to familiar territory. He apparated to Lucius. He wanted the ring. And Lucius, seeing how Conner had changed, readily gave it to his brother. He was wild, Draco. His eyes had been full of fire, his skin glowing like some otherworldly creature.” She reached up as if to touch Draco's face, holding back before touching. “He kept laughing.”
Draco's mind was racing, too many thoughts slipping in and then out for him to keep track. “But father gave him the ring!”
“Yes.” Narcissa didn't say anything else, stepping away and staring blankly at the wall.
“Mother—He gave him the ring! Why didn't it stop—What happened to him?”
“He stayed with us a whole two days,” Narcissa said tightly. “In the night, Conner woke us up. He said the pack had returned for him. They were waiting for him. Your father was oblivious, absolutely blind to them. Conner feared for Lucius, and without thought for himself, he placed the ring on your father's finger, and he stepped away. And then... he kept stepping.”
Draco swallowed hard, his mouth dry, tongue feeling too large for his teeth.
“He was laughing as he opened the front door. He began to glow... and then moan... and then he slipped away, as if he had apparated but without sound. He was gone, and he never returned.” Breathing deep, Narcissa turned again to Draco, taking in his ragged appearance. “Lucius did not notice the creatures, but he was changed for a moment, a soft glow that faded when his brother disappeared. It was enough to know his blood was just as tainted and he never took the ring off again.”
Draco could not, no matter how terrible it was, stop the laughter that escaped him. “Oh god... Haha, fucking hell... He took it off for me!” He broke down, laughing as he knelt on the floor. There was a pack of wild Vesper sitting outside the castle door, and his father had given up his humanity to save what could not be saved. What a fucked up, bad joke he was living. Lucius had prevented Draco from killing himself. Harry had killed Voldemort and managed to come back. And after everything, Draco was going to be savored and devoured by Vesper—and he was going to laugh through the whole fucking thing.
Narcissa knelt beside him, hands hovering inches from his shoulders. “We will take you from here, Draco. We will find you a safe place to—”
“No,” Draco whispered, his laughter again fading away, leaving him gray and hollow inside.
“Draco, please, it is not too late. Lucius left his father's and grandfather's journals. Surely some knowledge can be found.” Narcissa did touch him then, hands feather light as she grasped Draco's shoulders. “I will protect you, my son.”
“No!” Draco pushed her away, standing to tower in anger. “Protect me? You handed me over to Voldemort on a fucking silver platter! You made me pledge myself to a woman when I am gay! You have pushed me everyday down the path where I will only create another tainted, victimized son for the Vesper to hunt! How exactly are you going to protect me, mother? Open the castle doors to them? Maybe tie me up and throw a ribbon on me for good measure while you kick me out the door? I can do without your help!”
“Draco, please! You're angry but don't—” Draco did not hear what his mother had to say, running down the spiral staircase and tripping out into the hallway.
God, he had a fucking uncle. How many of Lucius's line had come to this end? All eventually—there was only one ring and the fuckwits insisted on having children! Every father must have given in to the curse to protect their son—even a father as terrible as Lucius.
Draco did not have to be such a father. Draco did not have to be a father at all. Fuck, he didn't even have to wait to see when the fucking creatures would come for him.
Feeling completely mad, fear and fire shaking through him, Draco turned and started stalking towards the large entryway of the castle.
- 13
- 14
- 15
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Intangible