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Dark Knight	By : xDAISUKIx Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 53701 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 15
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Sorry guys! The next chapter will be scheduled for 23rd of March, 2013!!!

This is because im going to go over some of the older chapters to give them...more sense. hah :P

Thank you for your reviews guys! Good or flame (they still gave me insight to my story and its shortcomings), so I thank:

Book-AddictFF, Unsatisfied, SevLoverKat, MySexyPack101, satomi, DB1, Jan and shay.

Qwinn: Heh, you can be sure that Draco's sneaky side will come out sooner or later. But you'll have to read through this chapter first.

I keep forgetting that I added more info on the mates on AFF than here. Harry's first two mates are Draco and one unknown (Ryr or Seb with an interesting twist) and the last two are Severus and Nathaniel. Actually, the mateship order may be subject to lots of change.

I changed my mind after the poll- at first, I was just going to hold a poll for the third mate, but it ended up being the fourth as well. But if a lot of people are unhappy with the fourth mate then there might be another poll.

It's up to them, I guess.

jujukitty: lol, sorry. That was purely my fault and had nothing to do with the story. I've found myself stuck into Snarry again (my OTP!) and every time I write sevviepoo's name I get this image of him hovering over a cauldron. My silly fingers decided to do away with some words and add an ingredient here and a cauldron there, lmao. I've fixed it now, so it should be….less confusing? Ahahah

And yes, sorry people out there. I hope by now you will have realized I like to take my romances a bit…slow (it's not THAT slow, is it?). I like to keep this as realistic as possible and it is true that Harry and Draco had no reason to like each other ever before. BUT and I say BUT.

There is progress in this chapter and you can expect…*giggles* something in the next chappie.

Requested and Main Story Idea by the lovely and patient: SuirenAngel

Written by not-so-slightly-insane: NeuroticNeko

This contains no Dumbledore bashing, no Weasley bashing. This is boyxboy. If you don't know what that means then you shouldn't be here.

[That morning]

As Draco gracefully slid under the covers of his blanket, he snorted softly to himself.

Stupid stormy days. They never did bode well.

Actually, Draco blamed all that had happened this day on the utterly disgusting dream he had had last night.

Well, it was quite…exciting at the time…

He had woken up tangled in his sheets and his heart beating like a hare's footfalls as it ran from a fox.

A small ache in his head told him that his instincts disapproved of bottoming, even in dreams, it seemed.

Draco had relaxed in bed for several minutes, enjoying the peace and utter calm that only a good ejaculation could bring.

After that, he had napped until breakfast and then left for the Great Hall.

His creature consciousness twinged uncomfortably and Draco shoved images of body sliding against body and pale fingers tangled within wild black hair.

It sank back, satisfied.

Draco smirked, underneath it all- he was still a Veela. A creature of desire and lust.

Four hours later, during Defense, Draco was really regretting it. Now, his Veela was a mess of raging hormones and its centre of attention was no other than the shaggy haired boy a few mats away from him, dueling with Neville.

As the badly worded spell went haywire, Draco's Veela crooned happily and bathed in the aura of the one who had featured in Draco's immensely satisfying wet dream.

Draco scowled.

The smell of Potter's heady magic caused Draco's nerves to tingle pleasantly and he felt an answering warmth and tightness down below.

Breathing steadily through his mouth, Draco struggled to hold his wand steady as he fired of another hex.

Stupid dream

Professor Snape snapped at Potter and the taller boy stalked over, passing by Draco in a wave of fluttering nerves and the overwhelming scent of fresh soap and something that smelled like pure power.

A stinging hex missed his cheek by millimeters and he swung back into his duel with Blaise.

Draco flew out of the classroom as soon as class was dismissed, stumbling and gasping for breath.

Potter's smell, his aura- it was all too overwhelming.

He was frustrated.

Very frustrated.

He thrust one of them- Goyle- against the wall and cast a disillusionment charm over all three of them and mashed their lips together.

All that Draco felt was the cold gravelly texture of the wall which his palms were pressed against and the scratchy texture of the chin below his.

He bit till his lips drew blood.

It…wasn't enough.

It didn't compare.

And then- as if on cue- Potter appeared.

Hiding his face behind the crook of Goyle's neck, he smirked as he felt the invisibility charm trickle away.

Part of him was pleased and yet chilled to see the gleam of possession within those bright green eyes.

Draco couldn't even remember much about what had happened next- just that it was violent.

Everything was still a bit muddy from the confundis charm Potter had tossed at him within the mayhem.

And then, he was in the infirmary, peeking underneath his blanket to watch the Boy-Who-Lived strip.

Draco was not blushing at all.

At all.

He wasn't. Definitely not.

The excitement he felt at peeking at Harry's naked torso was undermined by the feeling he got as each and every one of his bruises and breaks were revealed.

Ugly purple splotches on both sides that ran the length of his body.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Draco watched as Potter slipped one hand into his waistband.

Draco gulped.

The hand gripped tighter, pulled, and the trousers were slipping.

Draco blushed into his pillow.

Merlin's balls, he wasn't even a bloody virgin anymore.

When the trousers promised to reveal some more, Draco glimpsed a furry thing and practically shrieked (silently),twisting in his sheets.

All shuffling sounds from the other side of the room ceased and Draco felt his face heat underneath the safe cocoon on his making.

Had he…had he been caught peeking?

Sounds of movement recommenced and Draco buried his face into the pillow.

A while later, Draco woke to the feeling of something tickling his face.

Grabbing the offending item, Draco examined it.

Turning his head, he poked his arms out of the warmness and yelled, "Don't dump your trash on me, Potter!"

The boy in question slowly turned around and raised a brow.

"I'm sorry. Can you smell dead ferret? I think it's coming from the garbage dump"

Draco rolled his eyes. But really, Potter was getting better at this.

"Take these away and give me the bruise balm"

Surprisingly, Potter did as he was told.

[A bit later]

Draco couldn't believe what was happening, not only had the bruise balm failed to even stick itself onto Draco's fingers- but his spell hadn't worked and Draco knew his control had been absolutely f***ing perfect.

At first, Draco screamed at the Savior.

The other boy calmly replied to all of his accusations and Draco felt like a scolded little boy.

Draco had been very confused, but then, a small piece of parchment had appeared in Potter's hands and Draco grabbed it.

Cursive, upright and strangely thin letters appeared in his vision:

Dear Draco, Harry

I'm afraid you will not be leaving this room until matters between you two improve. These silly childish fights have caused enough grief as it is. Until then, no spells, medication or potions will work.

So, make friends

~Alby Dumbledore

Draco felt his eyes burn.

What. The. Hell?

There was no way in hell he and Potter would ever make friends.

No way in hell.

Sure, Draco admitted. Maybe there was some attraction. But he was almost completely sure that it was a creature thing.

But really. What was with the 'Alby'?

Later, Draco eyed his porridge testily and huffed.

"I am not going to work with you, whatever you may think, Potter"

"It was signed by Dumbledore"

Draco rolled his eyes and returned to spooning small parts of the mushy food into his mouth.

Eughk

Peeking out of the corner of his eyes, Draco watched as Potter became pensive for a moment, before he pushed his bowl away.

The Slytherin spooned up some more porridge but choked as the bite was too large and hurt the sides of his throat as he swallowed.

"Great, I can't even swallow properly without hurting. Thanks, Potter. Thanks"

He watched curiously as Potter's expression twisted and he rolled away from the waiting bowl of porridge.

Draco shrugged and continued to mince his way through the bowl of tasteless gruel.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. According to the wonky clock on the wall, it was just past midnight.

He felt strangely stiff. And cold.

Very cold.

Why was he so cold?

The Boy-Who-Lived grabbed his blanket tighter and wrapped it carefully around himself. It was hard to fall asleep- his every breath was painful, he could only sleep awkwardly on his front to avoid resting upon the bruises on the side and his broken tail.

He took one last look at the clock on the wall and then closed his eyes.

He was sure he'd feel better in the morning.

Draco woke up to a strange rasping noise. He froze in bed, goose bumps prickling his skin.

He opened his eyes and stared into the murky darkness.

A rattling cough and a wheeze broke the silence once more and Draco felt his heart rate speed up.

What was it?

He turned his head and glimpsed the time.

About one. It was hard to tell.

This time, Draco heard a more pronounced rattle, accompanied by a whistling sound.

Slowly, he lifted his sheets off of himself.

It wasn't him making those noises- and there definitely wasn't anyone else in this room who could make these noises except for-

Potter.

A cough. The sound of wetness bubbling up from within.

Silence.

Draco fumbled in the darkness. What was happening? What was-

He found the Savior trembling in the dark, wrapped in bloody sheets, eyes closed and hair matted to his forehead.

Panic was a shimmery veil that fell over his eyes and caused he heart to pound within his ears. He felt like he was going to be sick.

But- it was just Potter, wasn't it? It was just the stupid, bloody boy who had rejected him way back when-

Another shaking rattle.

What could Draco do? Nothing. There was nothing. Nothing would work until Potter and he 'made friends'. They were far from that. Far, far away.

He stumbled over to the cart.

[Until then, no spells, medication or potions will work]

Draco's hands shook and the things he had gathered in his hands dropped to the ground.

Oh my god.

He sank to his knees.

Potter, Potter was… he was…

Draco struggled with himself and reached for the instruction booklet.

He looked at the pages through blurry lenses and tried to still his hands.

Harr…Potter was suffering from…wait, rattling breath, wheezing, coughing up blood…shaking…

Draco could almost feel Potter's life slipping from between his fingers.

He needed. Oh god.

There was silence.

Draco couldn't even hear the signs of life anymore.

There was no coughing, no wheezing, no rattling. No nothing.

Silence.

Draco looked desperately through the booklet.

Nothing, nothing but spells. Spells he wouldn't be able to perform.

He looked at Potter.

No movement.

"Potter?" He croaked, raising a pale palm to his rival's face. No sign of breathing.

Draco felt a lump catch in his throat.

"Potter?" He said, more urgently, softly grabbing a cold arm and shaking the immobile Savior.

His instincts screamed at him. He didn't know what to do. He needed to help, he needed to. He needed to save, to stop this.

Gently, he lifted a eyelid and checked for a reaction. Anything.

Nothing

"Oh my god" he choked.

He…he couldn't…

He raised his eyes to the page he had been looking at.

If your patient suffers from those symptoms and you are sure that the patient is unconscious, you must immediately try to revive him/her. Your patient is unconscious due to the fact that not enough oxygen is reaching his brain- causing it to shut down.

The first thing you must do is make sure your patient is not resting on their chest.

This lack of oxygen can be caused by many things, the most likely in this situation it is a blockage in the airways. Try the spells listed on the bottom of the page.

The first thing you must do is make sure your patient is not resting on their chest.

There are other ways that might prevent the air from reaching the lungs and that might be a swollen trachea. There may also be injuries such as fractures or broken bones within his body that prevent his/her lungs from working in their full capacity.

Make sure all of the airways are clear and if there is a problem with the nose be sure that it is remedied straight away.

If nothing is done quickly- the patient will die within minutes. However, for magical folk with strong magic it is possible to last a little bit longer in this state. If the patient has been unconscious for ten minutes or more- the likelihood is that your patient has passed away.

Draco breathed shallowly and stopped the rising hysteria that threatened to build up.

He wiped the corner of his eyes and stilled the trembling in his hands.

He had to do something, by the gods.

He had never felt the desire to save someone so much as now.

His instincts were wailing, ripping a hole in his chest. He was confused.

If Potter was supposed to die today, then Draco had nothing to do with it, right?

If Potter was going to die today, Draco wouldn't be responsible, would he?

When Potter died today, Draco should be rejoicing- finally, his most hated person would be gone. Just gone.

But even if Draco weren't to be blamed for murdering Potter, he'd still carry the guilt around with him for the rest of his life. The guilt of not doing anything while in the bed next to his, the Boy-Who-Lived's time was ticking down.

Guilt greater than he would have felt if he had killed Albus Dumbledore that night.

Damn

Why was he like this?

Shaking, he read the spells in the booklet. They weren't going to work. He knew it.

But… He'd be damned if he didn't try.

Calming himself, he picked up the white wand.

Please work

Cleaning charm, clearing charm, blood dispelling charm, bruise clearing charm, blood replenishing potion.

Please, please please work.

The wand trembled in his hand.

Cleaning charm, clearing charm, blood dispelling charm, bruise clearing charm, blood replenishing potion.

No reaction. The wand didn't move, none of his magic made it through the spells.

Cleaning charm, clearing charm, blood dispelling charm, bruise clearing charm, blood replenishing potion.

The blood-replenishing potion didn't even pour out of its vial.

Draco felt panic again.

Cleaning charm, clearing charm-

A splutter.

Draco dropped the wand and put his hands on Potter's face. He slapped him and the sound rang through the deathly silence in the room.

Draco felt a sense of irony and slapped him again.

And again

And again.

Nothing happened.

Draco tried harder. He pressed the tip of the wand onto each of Potter's wounds.

"Come on!" Draco urged, palms fluttering down to feel the Savior's chest.

It was cold. Cold and sweaty.

The spells weren't working.

They wouldn't. They weren't even civil to each other- let alone getting along.

He performed the spells again. He pushed his magic into the wand. The conductor thrummed with his magic. Carefully, he pressed the wand onto Potter's lips.

"Gerusium exibolus"

Not a spark. Why? He had released his magic, but it had disappeared as soon as he had cast it.

"Potter?" he croaked.

If none of his spells would work- nothing would work now.

The wand clattered to the floor and Draco ran his fingers through the damnpened hair. Lightly, he brushed the wild mess to the side.

The person who had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort looked so helpless.

He bit his lip.

No one…would ever know of this…

Draco carefully tipped Potter onto his back, pushing the long black tail out of the way, too worn out to be squeamish when his fingers felt the short black fur.

He lifted the blanket and lowered himself into the bed. Trembling, he laid his cheek against Potter's. It was cool to touch.

Feeling his emotions bubble in his chest, Draco laced his fingers though the other boy's cold and clammy ones. Draco wished he could somehow fix him; make those eyes glow bright with fury and bring a burning red onto his face by poking and prodding him.

Make the possessive side that Draco knew Potter had come out and ram him against the wall. Make him angry because Draco's lips had been caressing someone else's.

Draco felt sick.

Potter wasn't even his.

They were nothing to each other.

Was this what Dumbledore wanted?

Draco felt as if his heart had been thrown onto the floor, felt the sharp little rocks and sand as they scraped and pulled at his flesh.

Water spilled out of the corner of his eyes and Draco cried. Hacking sobs that shook his frame and only served to make him feel worse. He curled his fingers tightly against the unmoving ones and pulled Potter's arms up so that they were wrapped around him.

To resemble an embrace

Bitter tears turned into bitter anger and Draco closed his eyes.

There had to be something.

Draco couldn't be- he wouldn't be the reason the Savior would die.

He just wouldn't.

There had to be a loophole.

Stretching his body along Potter's, he tried to spread his body heat. The boy was so cold.

Potter wouldn't die because of a spell that Dumbledore himself had placed- would he?

Well, even if he could. There had to be a reason good enough for Dumbledore to decide to do this.

What was it?

There was a reason why Dumbledore had placed him in here with Potter.

It must've been a damn good reason if Dumbledore was willing to place both he and the Boy-Who-lived in the same room.

Together

Draco racked his deeply suspicious Slytherin brain.

What was it?

Wait.

The letter had said 'until matters between you two improve', right?

It hadn't said that they'd have to be lovers- or even friends, for that matter.

But did the 'improvement' have to be both ways?

If Draco- say, was to like Potter more than before…would it count?

Draco brushed a stray lash away from the still Gryffindor.

Well, it damn well better.

Draco was betting everything on this.

He looked at the clock.

Potter had three minutes of life left. Before his last vestiges of magic would leave him as his neural function failed.

Now all Draco had to do was prove that relations had 'improved'. Hypothetically.

The clock ticked loudly in the quiet of the night.

Draco took a deep breath and inched his body closer to Potter's, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. This was different, Draco, would this by choice. It would be nothing like what had happened during the monthly gathering. Quietly, he prayed that it would work.

Draco leaned down and the sheets around him glowed as the moon fell upon the pair. Their lips met and Draco felt as if small butterflies were wreaking havoc in his stomach.

The boy wasn't even awake.

Potter's lips were dry and cold, unmoving. Unresponsive.

Draco sat up again, ducking to hide his blush.

The trees outside rustled in the night breeze. There was no one to see.

And it was no time to dawdle.

Draco draped himself off of the side of Potter's cot and picked up the wand.

He concentrated, then, on the feeling of Potter's lips on his. The coldness- no- the wonderful abandonment of everything Draco had ever been taught. The speeding up of Draco's pulse. The small joy of their lips touching. The heated kiss the other day.

Draco pressed the wand lightly to Potter's slightly blue lips once again.

Please work

"Gerusium exibolus"

A hiss, a light sucking noise, a small whoosh of air.

Yesss

A small stream of blood followed the path of Draco's wand through the air and the Slytherin maneuvered it into an empty bowl on the cart.

The Boy-Who-Lived took a shuddering breath.

Draco started working on anything else that had been blocking the air from reaching his lungs properly.

He tried episkey on Potter's nose and the break straightened, but not completely. Draco tried some blood reducing charms and the swelling and the colour of the bruises faded dramatically.

The boy laying in the sheets took another breath and Draco flopped onto his bed.

Potter was safe.

Haha. Suck on that, death.

Draco would fix the rib tomorrow. He still had the Skele-cream somewhere, right?

The exhausted boy pulled his covers up and was swept away on the wings of sleep.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he had the strangest sensation that he'd narrowly escaped something. Something scary.

He felt better than last night, that was for certain. The strange coldness had disappeared and the pain on his face had toned down.

Harry struggled out of his sheets and felt his face with his palm.

The bruises were still there, but the break was definitely healed and there was almost no swelling.

What miracle was this?

Oh. There was a small flaw, just where his nose had been …healed. Heh, Harry smiled, now he had a nose comparable to Snape's. He felt it carefully again…yeah, there was a small flaw. A scar.

Harry stretched carefully and winced when his sides twinged with pain.

Twisting to the side, Harry came to the almost-angelic view of Draco sprawled on the sheets of his bed. The morning light streamed through the window behind him and set the blonde's hair alight with holy fire.

What a strange position to sleep in, Harry thought.

Malfoy was sprawled on top of his pale white sheets, mouth opened wide and limbs splayed haphazardly over the bed.

Harry stretched his arms out and thought to wake him by grabbing his shoulders and shaking him, but thought against it.

Instead, he gave the clothed shoulder a gentle poke.

A lashed eye blinked open and Harry held his breath.

It was too peaceful a morning for a row.

Malfoy yawned and stretched cutely but what Harry noticed was the pallor of his skin, the puffiness around his eyes and the shadow under his gaze.

Harry's gaze fell to Malfoy's neck, where the pale skin was marred by ugly bruises the size and shape of Harry's fingers.

He felt sick.

He lifted his gaze and Malfoy's grey eyes held fear, but the flash dwindled away to nothing.

The curtains rustled and the Slytherin boy quietly got up and removed something from under his bed. His eyes flickered once more to meet the Savior's before Malfoy averted his eyes.

Harry felt frustrated.

Why was Malfoy acting so strange? Why was his nose healed? Had it been Malfoy…?

But it couldn't be possible. Dumbledore had said that they needed to be friendly for any spell to work, right?

A soft touch near his waist shocked him out of his reverie and reflexively, he caught it with his hand.

He looked up and Malfoy's eyes widened before a pale rose tinted his cheeks.

"Uh…Potter?"

The slim fingers in Harry's grasp wiggled and the Boy-Who-Lived noticed the jar of Skele-cream.

Harry looked up again.

"Why?"

The Slytherin ignored him and quickly removed his hand from Harry's grasp.

Quietly, he unscrewed the lid and with both hands and pinched the bottom of Harry's shirt.

The Gryffindor tensed.

With deft fingers, Malfoy pulled Harry's shirt up and left it so that the scratchy wool of the infirmary gown tickled against Harry's face.

A small touch to his broken rib had Harry yowling and screaming bloody murder and instinctively, Harry tried to curl himself into a ball to protect his weakness, but a firm hand stopped him from moving.

Slowly, Malfoy traced his fingers over the wound, applying a small amount around and on top of the swelling. Harry subdued his hisses and pushed his shirt off of his face. Much better.

He could see Malfoy this way, too.

The blonde's face was screwed up tightly in concentration and every once in a while, he would stop rubbing Harry's skin and dip his fingers into the small Skele-cream- whose cream was a little cool. It was a nice thing to see- at least he wasn't plotting to hex Harry's pants off.

When Malfoy looked like he had finished, Harry raised his head.

"Shouldn't you have realigned the bone first?" he questioned.

Malfoy pursed his lips and pulled the bruise balm from the cart.

"The rib isn't broken. It's fractured, Potter"

Harry was going to roll his eyes and ask Malfoy why he was suddenly the expert on this but suddenly he just felt tired.

Harry didn't really have the right to complain, not when Malfoy was doing for Harry's benefit.

All the tension in his body seemed to leak out of him and Harry slumped into his cool sheets.

"Why is everything working suddenly?" He asked, closing his eyes and enjoying the sunlight that fell against his eyelids.

Silence greeted his question and Malfoy opened the cap of the bruise balm.

Harry sighed and tried to sleep.

But it was a little hard when Malfoy's fingers were burning his skin with every little touch.

Hey, that bruise balm sure was tingly.

Neko: . Stupid Harry.

It's not the bruise balm, you dolt!

I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, I think it moves their relationship closer by a lot but… I don't know how interesting or retarded it was to read…

NEXT CHAPTER: NO DRACO. BAD, BAD BOY! O.O Wait…what are you doing!? Aaah…

AN: Holy crap i just read through my whole fic and then realised how frickn SLOW this is...hah. Sorry guys. I'm trying...
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