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A Vicious Tangle (Complete)	By : Tommy-Lane Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 13085 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any charactors from the books and I am not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
The long coil of rope disappeared into the blackness beneath him, the softest thwack of nylon on water pinging quietly several yards down as the rope stretched to its full length. Draco stared down after it, his boots planted solidly on the old stone circle with the harness snug around his waist and thighs.
"He's going to kill you, you know." Weasley grumbled for the hundredth time behind him.
"I know." Draco drawled, testing the knot and double checking the thread of the rope through the anchor above him and the belay device on his harness.
"And me. He's sure to go all mental on me for this which means you’re going to owe me. Big time." He continued and Draco forced himself not to roll his eyes.
"I know." Draco repeated, his pulse beating irregularly and much too fast at the prospect of lowering himself into the bleak hole with its cracked stone wall. And to think muggles did this all the time…for fun. Barmy lunatics. Of course they tended to rappel off mountain sides and crevices, not unnerving ancient wells where someone had died not long ago. "He'll get over it."
Weasley snorted. "Have you met Harry?"
Draco scowled at the black pit, his hands tight on the rope that would either see him safe to the bottom or be the cause of his broken neck and untimely death. "He's not my keeper."
"No, but he's got this weird thing about you not dying." Weasley chuckled and Draco could hear him fiddle with the extra climbing gear. "Any idea where that's coming from?"
"His traumatized heroic brain I'd say. And I'm not going to die." Draco glanced back at the red head, giving him a pointed look. "Besides if he was so concerned then he would be here instead of having gone rushing off to archives now wouldn't he?" He knew he sounded a bit bitter, the edge sneaking into his tone without his consent. He knew he shouldn't have been, that arriving at work that morning to find Potter gone with a note from him on his desk proclaiming that he was away looking into the Greengrass's shouldn't have made him frown so strongly nor should it have caused the clipped way in which he spoke to Damaris as she breezed by his office. He shouldn't have been upset that he wasn't there, that he wasn't going to get to accidently run into him, what would he have done if he had anyway?
He didn't want to discuss Pansy and her two bloody questions that made him flush and stammer just a little (honestly the things she thought of were just insane and Draco had firmly decided to never give her carte blanche ever again) after she had recovered from reliving her trauma. Not to mention the fact that the last time he had seen the man had been right after randomly snogging him senseless. Which was something that made him alternately heat with desire and want to beat his head against a wall in retaliation to his own stupidity. Honestly kissing Potter had to have been the best and worst decision of his entire damn life - and of course it was just his luck that he ran out of resistance and had given in right in front of Pansy.
He hated himself that Potter absolving a portion of his guilt had made him hunger for him like that, that he had simply needed the other man in that moment. That the well of emotions had crested so high that there was no possible way he could have brought himself back from it on his own. And now that he had had a taste he craved him in a way he never had before. His fingers flexed on the rope as his feet shifted closer to the edge, desperately trying to push Potter back to the corner of his mind so he could fully concentrate on the task at hand.
"Remember what I told you?" Draco asked without looking back, his gaze intent on the darkness.
"Yeah. Keep a look out and don't pull you back up unless you signal for me to." Weasley grumbled then paused, his hand appearing on the stone wall next to Draco's foot. "Are you sure about this? Harry told me about last time and I just think that maybe we should wait."
Draco glanced down and caught his deep blue eyes, something akin to worry coloring their depths, the emotion making Draco's brow furrow and confusion cloud his head. He knew that Weasley no longer hated him, that he even seemed to like him well enough lately but him worrying...for his safety? That was just too bizarre. "For what?" Draco demanded. "If there's another memory we need to access it and this is the only way I know how to go about doing that."
"I know that, it's just..." he trailed off, pushing a hand through his fiery mane in a manner so very much like Potter that it had Draco blinking uncomfortably down at him for a moment. "We should wait for Harry."
"Or we could not sit around twiddling our thumbs till he deems to grace us with his presence and do it now." Draco scolded, twisting sharply and pushing off the top of the wall with his toes, his body falling freely for a moment before his feet found the old stone sides - his boots connecting solidly and bringing back his equilibrium as he hung in the air above the pit.
With one hand curled tightly around the rope above him and the other on the rope below him, Draco inched his way down into the well, the sun slowly growing more and more distant as the air become thicker - smelling strongly of sodden dirt and mildew, an unsettling feeling creeping up his spine and spreading out through his limbs. The darkness engulfed him and Draco breathed out, wondering if this was the last sight and feeling the man who had died here had experienced before passing into the afterlife or if perhaps he was already dead when his body tumbled into the rank depths Draco now found himself in.
He couldn't help but hope for the latter.
Moments later and his feet were splashing into cold, rancid water that pressed up to his knees before he touched the ground and let go of the rope. Casting a quick lighting charm he re-pocketed his wand and withdrew the disk, staring at it in the dim light before letting it drop from his hand to plop smoothly into the water.
It took longer this time and Draco was starting to grow worried that nothing would happen when it glowed green and the still water all around him started vibrating, bubbling like something was heating it from underneath. He felt the now familiar fear and tugging overwhelm him, watched the tentacles spread out towards him, as a soft feminine voice rose to echo in his ears. He bent his legs, landing heavily on his knees as he was pulled under - the girl’s voice speaking urgently and yet incomprehensibly to him.
He gasped as his lungs were constricted painfully and then the pressure was lessening as he found himself suddenly back at Hogwarts, in the Slytherin dormitories. There was no one around him but he could hear the other students - cowering behind doors like that could save them from the Carrow's wrath when they were in the mood for punishment. Draco could nearly taste the fear that predominated the very air, the stench making him slightly ill. He looked around himself only to realize that this wasn't the boy's dormitories but the girls, his hand on the dungeon wall feeling much too real and solid for his comfort level as he reminded himself that he wasn't really here - that this was a memory. Just a memory...
The sound of feet behind him had him turning swiftly, his gaze landing on the figure of himself at seventeen - Merlin he had been so skinny then, it was a wonder he hadn't just completely wasted away into nothing before the year was out. His younger shelf wore a hard expression, a slim black bag clenched in his hand. Draco watched himself walk determinedly down the hall as he desperately tried to remember what was going on, what would happen next. But he couldn't because he didn't remember this, a realization that chilled him as he followed himself around a corner and right up to Pansy's dorm room door. He knocked so very softly it could barely be heard and then without waiting for a reply past Draco was glancing around himself before pushing inside, pressing the door quickly shut behind himself - Draco finding himself suddenly and inexplicably inside the room as well in the very next instant.
"Draco." Pansy gasped from the bed, leaping up from it and rushing to him - her hair limp and unwashed around her face, her skin devoid of color. "I didn't...how did it go?"
He shook his head, his expression grim. "They made a decision."
"And?" She asked fearfully.
Draco glanced around the room as his younger self kept staring at Pansy to find her roommates all there along with the dainty form of a familiar blonde haired girl a couple years younger than himself - his heart slowing painfully at the sight of her. It was the girl from the memories. The one who had spent the last few weeks crying and screaming in his head - the one who had tried and failed to escape from the tunnel. He swallowed with difficulty and took a step forward, desperate to wrap her up and whisk her away only to realize that the girl was staring at his past self with wide, scared and yet hopeful eyes. She was staring at him in much the same way he had seen numerous girls stare at Potter, the very idea of it sending dread washing over him.
"It's not good." He spoke quietly and saw the girl start to tremble from head to toe on the corner of the bed.
"But they wouldn't..." Daphne cried from the corner of the room, rushing over to the girl, her arm looping protectively around her as Draco came to the conclusion that it was her sister - Astoria. Though even now, even though he knew logically that it was her, he still couldn't remember her, not really - she was nothing but a smudge on his memory that refused to be wiped clean.
"Their coming tonight." Draco's voice echoed eerily through the room, settling like a heavy thorny blanket over them all. "Soon."
"Who." Daphne demanded breathlessly.
Past Draco's gaze shifted from Pansy to Astoria, the girl’s eyes filling instantly with tears before shutting tight, shrouding everything around Draco in black until he couldn't see anything and all he could hear was her terrified breathing. Then there was the sound of splintering wood, of running, of screaming, and the feeling of being thrown violently about. But it was all disconnected, all just feeling, and right before he found himself tumbling out of the memory he heard Astoria crying for him again, only this time he felt that she was speaking directly to him in the past - the feeling of being ripped away in two different time lines threatening to make him scream from the intensity and insanity of it all.
When he returned to himself, slumped against the slimy side of the well, he felt more disorientated and confused than ever before - his legs shaking as he forced himself to his feet and staggered into the opposite rounded side of stone. He breathed in deep and tried to organize his thoughts but there was a pain in his head the size of a planet and all he could grasp onto was the abstruse knowledge that something unbelievably important had happened that night - that he had done something and the fact that he couldn't remember even a fragment of it a clear sign that someone didn't want him too.
He didn't know how long he stood there with his forehead pressed against the slippery stone but it seemed like ages before he sent the signal to Weasley to pull him back up into the day light. With his feet on the vertical wall and his head back in the past he slowly ascended until he was surrounded by light and his boots found the edge of the wall, his balance wavering unsteadily for a moment. He opened his mouth to mutter a 'thank you' only to find the rope spinning loose with a hand on his wrist - yanking him down and off of the wells lip.
He stumbled and cursed, glancing sharply up to see Potter's face looming before his own - his lips a firm puckered line and eyes narrowed dangerously. "What did I tell you?" He growled, the rope tangled in one hand, the other latched onto Draco's wrist.
"I didn't go off alone, I brought your Weasley with me." Draco grumbled, blinking in the bright light and trying to find his balance that seemed to be eluding him.
"You couldn't wait a bloody hour? You just had to throw yourself down a damn well?" Potter took one intimidating step forward and Draco felt his head spin as the memory pressed against this skull.
"I didn't throw myself and like I said, I brought Weasley didn't I? Or are you implying that your partner is incompetent?" He tipped backwards then swayed forward, cursing his damn equilibrium for still being off and fighting against a shiver as his wet cloths stuck uncomfortably to his skin.
"No, I'm implying that I need to be with you when you do this! Merlin Malfoy I swear your trying to make me go mental lately." He ranted, letting go of Draco's wrist and tugging a hand through his hair jerkily. "I don't understand why-"
"It's Astoria Potter." Draco cut him off, watching as that one little revelation soaked up all of Potter's indignation and left him staring disbelievingly at him as Draco fought against the immense urge to simply collapse forward and into Potter's strong chest - he felt far too splintered to be standing on his own. "The girl is Astoria."
****
"Well that's just...fuck."
Draco nodded at Potter's tired sigh, quite agreeing with his statement. It was indeed just fucked. He fidgeted with the hem of Potter's jumper that the man had let him borrow as his own clothes, while dry thanks to a quick charm, still smelled too strongly like mildew - making him feel as if he was still at the bottom of the well with Astoria getting ripped away from him over and over again. He stared at the hearth that was empty of flame, the lack of its warmth making the cold inside Draco feel more pronounced and threatening as they sat on opposite ends of the comfy, worn couch that was far too ugly for Potter to own and yet here it was - glaring amongst all the other pieces of furniture in the man's parlor. Though why they were in the man's house instead of at the office was a mystery and one Draco couldn't find in himself to outwardly question - perhaps because he really didn't want to deal with the loud Auror department or more likely because wearing Potter's baggy clothes made him feel safe with his scent wrapped so completely around him.
But then that in turn made him feel guilty with the nagging knowledge of what the past held and what may still be happening to her.
"Any luck tracking the Greengrass' down?" Draco asked softly, his stomach still in knots over the latest memory as his fingers picked at a loose thread.
Potter nodded. "They moved to Belgium."
"And Astoria? Is she," he paused and swallowed thickly, knowing that he needed to hear the answer and yet dreading it anyway. "Is she with them?"
Potter looked over at him, holding his gaze for a long moment before shaking his head. "No. She disappeared during the war, though according to all the reports none of the family seems to have any real memory of the incident. There were searches for a while but it yielded nothing and the family moved soon after the case was pronounced cold and closed." He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, his hands clenching on his thighs. "The Auror's barely even looked from what I can tell."
"Of course not." Draco sneered. "Why would they? She was associated with Death Eaters, no one probably gave a fuck about her."
"It was a confusing time Malfoy, people were still frightened." He said but he didn't sound like he meant it, like it was just something he was supposed to say in a time like this.
"And that makes it alright?" Draco snapped.
"No." Potter didn't elaborate and Draco was grateful for that, the simple answer somehow seeming more genuine that way. "The question we need to deal with right now is why are her memories and emotions in the disks? If she's still being held captive how is that happening and is the murderer the same one keeping her prisoner? That night you said they were coming for her but you don't remember anything after that?"
Draco shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight, much like Astoria had done in the memory. "No, I don't remember that night at all, I don't even really remember her even though I know I should. I think...I think I've been Obliviated."
"It does seem likely." Potter murmured. "Her family too."
"Could the Obliviators reverse it?" Draco asked, the hem of the sleeve unraveling as he tugged sharply on the loose thread.
Potter sighed softly. "I don't know, it will be a long shot. It's been so long since the memory was removed they might not be able to retrieve it and if they do it may only be fragments."
"Great." Draco grumbled. "I'm so fucking tired of fragmented memories, it only makes everything more confusing and I don't...I can't...Merlin I need my memory back." His back curved as he slumped forward, his face falling into his hands as he breathed deeply through his nose.
The couch dipped seconds before Draco felt a hand laid gently between his shoulder blades. "We'll find her Malfoy."
"I need the memory Potter." He repeated, his voice muffled against his own palm.
"I know it's hard to have time stolen but it may be impossible." Potter said, scooting closer until his leg pressed against Draco's, his fingers running in a circle over his back. "But we will find her and the murderer, I promise, and that's all that really matters."
Draco shook his head adamantly. "No, it's not."
"Why?"
Draco's hands dragged down over his face until just three fingers covered his mouth partially, his gaze fixing back on the empty fireplace. "Because what if I'm responsible? What if I did something horrible? What if I'm the reason she's been held captive for 11 fucking years? What if I'm not a better person like I've tried to be but still just a coward who does the bidding of evil? What if I'm the puppet and I don't even know it?" His voice shook as emotion and fear gripped him, the vision of himself striding down the deserted corridor in the dormitories while everyone else hid accosting him. What had he been doing? Where had he been? And how did he know they were coming for Astoria? And why did the girl look upon him like her hero? Why did he feel like she had been physically gripping him in the blackness and screaming at him for help?
"You're not." Potter corrected firmly, his arm moving to capture Draco in an one-sided embrace, like he was afraid Draco was going to jump up and run away again.
"How do you know?" He sounded pathetically weak, his tone one that would have made his father frown sharply and reprimand him as a child - but there was something about Potter, about the strong feeling of his arm around him and the way his voice sounded hard and protective that made his walls crumble. He sounded certain and Draco was quickly coming to realize that was a rare thing indeed.
Potter dragged in a sharp breath and bent his head until his forehead was pressed into Draco's temple. "Because if you were, I wouldn't..." His words echoed softly right in Draco's ear, making him freeze in place as he waited for Potter to finish that thought. But instead of doing so Draco felt Potter's fingers lightly touch his cheek, turning his face towards him, their eyes connecting for a brief intense moment before Potter was leaning forward and lightly capturing Draco's lips with his own.
The kiss was soft and gentle, Potter's arms moving to wrap tightly around him, trapping him in place as Draco felt his heart beat painfully and moisture prick behind his eyelids. It was humiliating to think that he was close to actually crying as Potter's lips slid carefully over his, that the way the man's hand splayed possessively across the small of his back made him ache with longing, that the first touch of the others tongue against his had dragged a whimper from his throat.
"Wouldn't what?" He breathed out against Potter's mouth, his hands having somehow gotten tangled in the man's shirt.
"I've seen you at your lowest and worse and at your highest and best. I've seen it all, I've been there for it all." Potter muttered, twisting them carefully but forcefully until Draco suddenly found himself on his back, Potter splayed out atop him as he kissed him once more - this time a little harder, a little quicker. "And Draco you...you have such passion in your blood that you hold so fervently back. But I can see it, it breaks through in moments that are dazzling even though you try to keep it tucked away."
"I'm not so complex." Draco kept his eyes tightly closed, worried that if he was to open them that Potter would see the wetness in them.
Potter chuckled, kissing him sloppily. "Yes you are and it took me a long while to see it and understand it. I mean, Draco your job is to help protect the innocent from dark magic."
"Maybe I just like playing with dark magic and not having to worry about going to Azkaban for it." He countered, his words coming out barely coherent as he tried to keep kissing Potter as he spoke, his hands traveling down the man's back and then back up under his shirt to the warm skin underneath. "Nothing pure or heroic about it."
"Perhaps but that's not it and you know it. I've seen the way some of the cases effect you. How this case is nearly making you go mad." Potter left his mouth and trailed his lips down Draco's neck, his hands simultaneously pushing the thick fabric of the jumper up Draco's torso. "The past may hold nothing but regret but it doesn't matter. What matters is who you are now. And like I said, if you were just an evil slimy git then I wouldn't..." he didn't finish that thought again, instead he just leaned back and tugged the jumper up and over Draco's head - tossing it to the floor before tugging his own off and attacking Draco's mouth once more.
"You wouldn't what?" Draco demanded, if a bit breathlessly as Potter's bare skin on his own was snapping his last strings of coherent thought.
"You are beautiful." Potter whispered between kisses. "And smart with that damn wicked tongue of yours and I can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. Long before that first night at the club you invaded me and all I want is to be with you, all the fucking time. I see you in the office and I want to snog you in the middle of the hall, I hear your voice and it makes me want you with a fucking terrifying passion. I want to wake up every morning sore with you beside me. I want you to take me whenever and wherever you want. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine."
Draco's head was spinning with Potter's declaration, his words looping round and round his head as he bit back a moan that Potter was trying to pull from his mouth by pressing his hips forward and rocking into his crotch that was rapidly filling. The very notion of Potter wanting him like that purely and utterly insane but oh so amazing. Potter's hands were working his fly open, his too big borrowed trousers pushed down to his ankles and kicked off as he tried to form a logical response, as he tried to desperately catch up to where they were.
"You want to know why I never heal the marks you make? Because I like knowing their there, I like the idea that you've branded me, I like the thought that if someone was curious enough to look closely that they would see what you've done to me. I like when you don't even bother to make sure we're properly alone before using me, I love that there's so many stranger's who've seen you with your hands down my pants at the club or that have caught a glimpse of me on my knees for you. I like it because I don't want there to be any doubt that it's me who’s made you so flushed."
Draco couldn't keep his eyes from springing open, welling tears be damned, his gaze landing immediately on Potter seconds before the man was grabbing his cock at the base and pressing a kiss to the full head. He had no idea how to respond, the revelation that Potter...Merlin that Potter was so fucking kinky and desperate for him making words fail him. He had always thought that they were just messing around, that it was just a release of tension and a way to deal with each other. He had never let himself consider it being anything more because who in their right mind would ever guess that Potter would desire him beyond an easy but fantastic fuck.
Draco gritted his teeth and cursed as Potter swirled his tongue over the head, licking wetly over the underside of his cock and returning to the tip to swipe away each and every drop of precum it leaked with a little moan. He licked and sucked with hallowed cheeks until Draco was bucking into his mouth with a much too quickly approaching orgasm - Potter suddenly pulling completely off and pressing himself along Draco's body once more, kissing him harshly with Draco's own taste on the man's tongue.
"I know I said that I didn't care if you wanted to pretend but I've changed my mind." His eyes were so dark when he pulled back and looked down at Draco, his hands holding himself up on either side of the blonde. "I want you and you want me and I'm going to show you just exactly what you do to me." Potter grinned mischievously, Draco's pulse picking up and beating rapidly as he bent to kiss him deliriously once more.
- 15
- 16
- 17
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A Vicious Tangle (Complete)