Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Taken	By : slytherincailin Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 13148 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fan-fiction based upon the world and characters of Harry Potter which are owned exclusively by J. K. Rowling. No profit or money was gained.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Chapter Eighteen:

A/N: slight gore/ disturbing imagery

Harry sat just a distance away, his slender back hunched over as if to protect his abdomen. His small body shook in the near emptiness that surrounded him. The beach was cold, dull and deserted as Draco approached the boy. His steps were slow, sluggish as though he was wading through mud to reach the Allura.

"Harry?"

The boy shivered violently, his black hair knotted and unruly as it fell around his thin shoulders. The boy looked beaten, sick and thin. His scales, once a vibrant green, were dull and cracked.

"Draco?"

Draco hurried his pace at the sound of Harry's voice, his heart producing a relentless beat of fear and confusion in his chest. The organ constricted, pain squeezing it horrifically as he tried to force a path to Harry. His Harry. Harry needed him.

"Harry!"

The slender boy stopped shivering, his pale, broken body unwinding as he straightened his spine.

When he turned, Draco was met with a face that made him pause.

Harry's features were haggard, tired and thin and stretched painfully over bones that looked too brittle. His eyes, so wonderfully green, were too big, all but popping from his thin face as he stumbled brokenly towards Draco, his steps hindered.

"Draco..."

Draco sobbed, his hands coming up to cover his mouth as Harry lifted a hand to cover his grotesquely swollen stomach. As he watched, the Allura sliced open his own skin, his nails long and twisted and dark.

Draco awoke screaming.

He clutched at the bedsheets around him, his chest heaving as he forced his body into a sitting position and tried to calm the frantic beating of his own heart. The nightmare of Harry clung to his senses, to his vision as his gaze swept across the darkened bedroom.

Slowly, he came to his senses, realising that he was at home, in the manor at Hogsmeade. Harry was somewhere far, far away. Draco groaned, his stomach heaving as the grotesque images of his Harry played rapidly, turning each innocent shadow into something foreboding.

The door to his room was opened suddenly and light spilled in from the hallway, blocked only by the thin silhouette of a young woman. Luna padded into the room, her pale skin all but glowing as she took a seat beside Draco's bed and placed a cool cloth over his forehead.

The gesture had become routine since Draco had returned home a week ago. His nightmares had been endless, desperate and horrible and Luna was the only person who knew of them. Draco was sure that, was he to confide in Lucius or Severus, they would only turn pitying frowns on him. Think him deranged for obsessing over something so trivial as a slave boy he had come to fall in love with.

He sniffed up at Luna pitifully as the woman petted his hair, her blue eyes clouded.

"I've made a mistake haven't I?" His voice was hoarse, thick and gruff, "I should never have left him there."

Luna smiled down at him softly."Is that what these dreams are telling you? That you made a mistake?"

Draco groaned as he heaved his body from the bed, his knees shivering fitfully as he tried to regain his composure. "Of course they are. I need to go back for him. He needs me, I need him. He's dying without me, what else could they mean. You've heard some of them, Luna, they are wicked."

Luna nodded, her brow furrowing. "I told you once to cherish him, Draco. I told you to keep him safe, to protect him. I tried not to intervene on the path you chose but now I fear I must. Harry is in great danger." The small blonde looked conflicted, her blue eyes distraught.

Draco tensed, his silver eyes narrowing in the near darkness. "What do you mean?"

Luna covered her mouth with one hand, her blue eyes clouding until all that Draco could see was white.

"Tom Riddle will destroy him."

###

Harry lay on his side on the cool sand at the bottom of the ocean. His village lay only a short distance away, though he had little interest in returning to it. Since his return he had become something of a celebrity, constantly cornered by curious neighbours who wished to know every detail.

He detested it.

His privacy had been stripped from him, as had his ability to enjoy life. Draco had taken everything. Except the thing which now served to be Harry's only reason to continue living, the only rason he was not alrady dead. The Allura shuddered as a cold current broke over him, sending his fins ruffling and his hair to sway lazily in the stream. He felt Draco's pain in every inch of his body.

The pirate's remorse was a drug he could not block off, the only sure way Harry could know that Draco had not left him out of cruelty. For whatever reason, Draco had believed he was doing the right thing, and he was suffering for it. It was this alone that prevented Harry from despising the human.

He snorted into the sand, his teeth chattering. As if he could ever despise Draco. As if he could not bring himself to crave the warmth and scent and essence of his mate, especially now. He was always cold now. Lying in the sun or being embraced by his family did little to stop the shivering that permeated his very bones and made him weak, tired.

Harry grunted as a familiar scent washed over him seconds before he was grabbed by gentle arms and brought back against a solid chest.

"Have they found Ron?"

James sighed against the smaller boy's hair, his amber fins drooping as he tried to cover Harry's cooling form as much as he could. "No." The older man whispered, sighing as Harry wilted in his arms. His nephew was dying.

James hummed softly in his throat, rubbing his cheek against Harry's pointed ear as his palms drifted to the younger boy's stomach.

"Will you tell them?"

Harry murmured inaudibly, his eyes shut against the onslaught of pain in his chest. "What's the point? I won't survive long enough to deliver it." His voice was detached, weary and James gave a short keen of sadness, his hazel eyes filling with tears. "You might."

Harry tilted his head to look up at his uncle, his scales and eyes glowing brightly as his body fought against the loneliness that would eventually shut it down. He smiled softly, sadly.

"Sure... Sure."

###

Neville growled as he pulled against the restraints, his teeth snapping together in an audible click as his muscles strained, exhausted but strong. The Veela youth watched him through bright eyes, his body convulsing every so often as a tremor of hunger and pain rolled through him. One of the boy's wings was limp, snapped viciously by a well aimed kick from one of the disgusting men under Riddle's command.

"You shouldn't tire yourself out so, beast. You're time is coming and if you are weak during your transformation they will kill you. You must remain strong."

Neville stared through yellow eyes at the child, his brown hair falling loosely around him. "You know what I am, Veela?"

The youth smiled sadly, wincing as a sudden movement caused his wing to stir, the broken bone clicking horribly. "I do. I also know my sister will soon discover that I have been stolen from my home. Her visits may not be often, but they are clockwork enough to know that very soon, she will discover the bodies of our parents."

Neville felt his face soften at the look of grief that swept over the child's features. "What's your name?"

The Veela glanced up at him, golden hair sliding over one crystal blue eye.

"Gabriel."
- 17
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- 19
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