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'On The Edge'	By : Lilith08 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2079 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the fabulous J.K Rowling does. No money is being made from the writing, or publishing of this story, I’m just doing it for the kicks!

Chapter List
- 1-'On The Edge'
- 2-Chapter 2: Trials and tribulations
- 1
- 2
Chapter 2 : Trials and tribulations.

Harry Potter awoke to the smell of bacon frying and the sounds of the boisterous Weasley brood all making a beeline for the kitchen. He flung an arm over his eyes to blot out the sun that seeped in through the thread-bare curtains and threatened to wake him up completely.

He really did not want to get out of bed today. Last night he had had ‘the talk’ with Ginny Weasley.

The talk being, his admission that he wasn’t happy with their relationship (did two hastily performed kisses and a few hand-holding moments actually count as a relationship?) and he wanted to break things off.

There had been tears (Ginny’s) accusations of infidelity (Seriously, when did he have the time for that?) and a tantrum before Ginny wiped her eyes and announced she was going to bed. Upon Harry’s request to still be friends, Ginny had looked at him as one would stare at a cockroach for a long moment, before answering:

‘I don’t know if that’s going to be possible, Harry’

How the hell was he going to face them? What if she’d already told them? Hermoine would understand, of course, having already been privy to Harry’s doubts about his ‘relationship’ with the youngest Weasley, but Ron? How would Ron take the news he had ‘broken’ his little sister’s heart?

And that was only one of his problems. Aside from a homicidal dark wizard hunting for him he had another pressing issue- Draco Malfoy.

For the last four nights in a row he had been bombarded with dreams (visions?) of the willowy blonde. The content of the dreams chilled him to the bone.

In every single dream, he had been standing on the edge of a cliff, unable to move and helplessly watching as Draco Malfoy calmly walked off the edge, to fall to the sharp rocks of the shore below.

He honestly didn’t know what to make of it all. He still couldn’t stand the git, especially when he continued to call his friends names, but he didn’t exactly *hate* Malfoy either. And, considering he was a bisexual teenaged boy, he had to admit he’d often had one of the wrist imagining Malfoy in all kinds of kinky situations.

But that was his own little secret, and there was no way anyone was going to find out about that-especially Hermoine who had once questioned whether his hostility to Draco and consistent surveillance of him wasn’t just a cover up for something more.

‘She’s smart but she’s not that smart. It’s nothing. I wank a few times a week thinking about him. Purely physical. He’s a arrogant, pure-blooded bigot.’ Harry thought, trying to justify his actions to himself as his hand slowly crept towards the growing bulge in his pants.

‘He does have a rather nice ass though’ his mind helpfully informed him, as he conjured up an image of his rival in his mind. Harry sighed as he pulled his pants down, exposing his rapidly swelling cock. After a quick lubrication spell, he wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stroke himself slowly as he thought about Draco Malfoy.

‘No, it’s not just his ass. He has a nice face. When he’s not sneering, it looks softer. And his hair. His hair is nice. It looks soft’

In no hurry, Harry imagined what Draco Malfoy would look like if he were smiling. He imagined straight white teeth, with pale pink lips and a healthy rose flush to the usually pale cheeks. It was quite mind blowing, imagining this smiling Malfoy, and Harry found his hand speeding up of it’s own accord as his imagination let loose.

He thought of one of his favourite sceneries, of him and Malfoy in a secluded classroom, Malfoy sprawled out over a table, his grey trousers around his ankles as Harry sank into the warm depths of his body.

“Fuck” Harry hissed, unable to stop his hand slicking over his arousal faster. Fuck going slow, he needed to come now.

He imagined Malfoy’s breathy moans, the way he would arch his back as he was pounded into, the slick sound of his own cock sliding back and forth into that tight heat-

“Harry?!”

As with all teenaged boys interrupted in wanking, Harry’s face flushed bright red and he snatched his hand away from his straining cock at lightning speed, his blood pounding though his veins. Damn it! He’d been so close then!

“Yeah?” he called back, hoping he didn’t sound out of the ordinary.

Mrs Weasley’s voice seemed to be coming from the foot of the stairs, so hopefully she wouldn’t come up. He really could not handle her barging in right now.

“Breakfasts ready, dear, hurry before it gets cold!”

“Okay! Be down now” Harry called back, his ears straining for the sound of her heavy footsteps retreating back towards the kitchen. When he heard them he breathed a sigh of relief.

Harry thought of fucking Malfoy again, but this time his imagination wasn’t quite so vivid. He tried to picture the muscles and curves of Malfoy’s back undulating and quivering as he was pounded into, but his concentration had been broken. With a dissatisfied groan, he spurted his release onto his hands as heat spiralled in his groin.

He gasped for air and looked down at his twitching cock in accusation. Seriously, that was one of the worst wanks he’d ever had, and it had started of so well.

Maybe living at the Weasely’s house was not such a good idea anymore. Not with the Ginny situation as it was. Plus, he did actually like to have an undisturbed wank every now and again.

As he quickly got cleaned up and pulled his bathrobe on to head downstairs, Harry decided he would have to speak to Dumbledore about moving into Grimmauld Place.

Miles away, in the imposing Malfoy Manor, Draco was sat down in the atrium with his mother, as their breakfast was being served.

Looking as elegant and refined as ever in her pale rose gown, Lady Malfoy poured herself some tea, her eyes fixed on her quiet child.

Something was wrong with Draco, she could just tell. He’d always been a slender boy (most likely passed onto him from her side of the family) but he looked positively scrawny sitting there in his too-large blue pyjamas.

“Draco, darling, are you quite well?” Narcissa asked, handing the teapot to her son.

Draco’s eyes flicked to her and he nodded his head once in affirmation, before pouring himself a cup of the steaming brown liquid.

As a general rule, those in high society did not express much affection towards their family members in public. It was unbecoming to be seen kissing and touching too much, in case one’s enemies saw it as potential weakness.

However, in the seclusion of the Manor, Narcissa tried her best to show her son affection. She would tenderly smooth his hair or kiss his cheek when his father wasn’t around. She had hoped these clandestine acts of affection would prove to Draco that he was very much loved and cherished by his mother, but it seemed this wasn’t the case.

Now, when she tried to place a kiss on his cheek, he would simply turn his head away.

“You look ill, darling, are you eating well?”

Draco shrugged and took a sip of tea. “Well enough, I suppose.”

“Is something bothering you, Draco?”

This latest questioned caused the pale boy to smile sardonically into his teacup. Oh if only she knew…

“No, Mother, I’m quite well thank you.”

And then Lucius Malfoy swept into the atrium, and Narcissa lowered her eyes to her plate, her opportunity to reach out to her son lost.

Things, as Harry had feared, had not turned out too brilliantly in the Weasley household. Breakfast was a strained affair, consisting of Ginny glaring at him, Ron looking hopelessly back and forth from Harry to Ginny trying to figure out what was going on, and Mrs Weasley trying to be even more loud and cheerful to compensate for the dire mood that hung around the table.

“Harry, Dear, you’ve barely touched your eggs” Molly clucked as she passed him, en-route to the stove to bring out some freshly baked bread.

“I’m not really feeling that hungry this morning, Mrs Weasley” Harry muttered, noticing the way Ginny’s fierce brown eyes narrowed even further at him.

“Oh, well, at least have some of this bread, it’ll go lovely with the jam I made last week…”

Harry nodded unenthusiastically as Molly hurried off into the pantry to locate the jam.

“Hey mate, what’s up with Ginny?” Ron mouthed, in a not so subtle way, to Harry.

“ Ron” Hermoine hissed, nudging his side with an elbow.

“What?” Ron asked, looking to Harry in confusion. “You had a fight or something?”

Ginny slammed her fork down on the table and stood up, causing all eyes to land on her. Even Mr Weasley managed to tear his gaze away from the sports pages of the Daily Prophet.

“Harry and I are no longer together. Harry said he didn’t want to be with me anymore”

“Mate!” Ron cried, scandalised.

“Oh dear” Mr Weasley muttered, scratching his face uncomfortably.

“ Pass the butter, would ya?” asked a completely nonchalant George.

Ginny huffed and stormed from the table, only Mrs Weasley hurrying after her.

“How could you mate?” Ron asked, glaring daggers at his friend. “that’s my sister, you know!”

“Yes Ron, I know she’s you’re sister. But things just weren’t working out so I ended it. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt her, I really am, but don’t you think it’s better I’ve finished it rather than stringing her along?”

Mr Weasley nodded his agreement at that, and returned to his paper.

Ron, looking a little appeased, also returned to his food, but still shot Harry the occasional glare every now and then.

Hermoine, feeling she should at least try to smooth things over with Ginny, left the table, but not before shooting Harry a look that clearly said ‘You owe me’

The winter holidays passed by slowly for Draco. Between his Father’s nightly ‘visits’ and the steadily increasing Death Eater activity at the Manor, he was slowly being driven insane.

It was the night before he was due to head back to Hogwarts for his sixth year, that it happened.

It being, his first meeting with the Dark Lord.

Draco had been trying in vain to master a complex charms spell in preparation for the new term, his patience all but expired and his temper flaring, he flung a pillow to the floor in defeat.

Fuck it. No matter how hard he tried in school his efforts were never appreciated anyway.

Draco considered going for a bath to calm his nerves down when he heard the soft creak of his door opening.

‘Oh god, not again. He’s already had me once tonight!’ Draco instinctively scooted back towards the headboard, his knees coming up to his chest as he watched the door open and his father enter his room.

“Draco, come with me, it’s time.”

‘Time?’ Draco thought, hurrying to obey his father as he climbed off his bed and fetched his cloak.

“The Dark Lord has graced us with his presence here at the Manor tonight” Lucius explained, as he escorted his son from his rooms and down the winding stairs of the ancient house.

“He’s here?” Draco managed to choke out, fear invading every cell in his body at once.

“Yes. He’s becoming stronger, and soon he will be strong enough to destroy that Potter brat once and for all” Lucuis gurgled, looking very much the child with a devilish glint in his eye as he contemplated stealing a new toy.

“ Why is he here though, Father? Aren’t the Ministry keeping a close eye on the place?”

Lucius seemed amused by his son’s ignorance and snorted. Good thing the boy was pretty; clearly he didn’t have much going on in the brain department.

“ He is here, because we are his loyal servants. He will never be more safe than what he is within these walls.”

Draco found he couldn’t answer that. After all, he was expected to be the Dark Lord’s ‘loyal servant’ but was he?

‘No’ Draco thought, chilled at the thought. No he wasn’t. And if the Dark Lord found that out, he was as good as dead.

Father and son reached the doors to the great hall, and Lucius stopped. He stared down his nose at his son and watched him carefully for any sign of reaction.

Draco merely looked back up at his Father, his insides clenching with the effort of not showing his fear.

“Now, Draco. When we enter the hall, we will bow before our Lord. You will not speak, unless you are directly spoken to, is that clear?”

“Yes, Father”

Seemingly satisfied with his son’s obedience, Lucius pushed open the doors to the great hall, and the first thing Draco could see was the flickering of hundreds of candles. It reminded him very much of the great hall, only without the safety that place offered him.

‘Tomorrow. I will be there tomorrow.’ Draco reminded himself as he walked slowly towards the black-robed figure reclined in a throne like chair.

“My Lord, it is an honour to be in you’re presence” Lucius murmured, bowing low before the hooded creature. Draco followed by example, keeping his eyes fixed on the gleaming marble of the floor.

“Aaaah, Lucius, my favoured servant, and who is this? You’re boy?”

“Yes My Lord, this is my son and heir, Draco.” Lucius, while not sounding terribly proud of the fact, didn’t seem particularly put out either. Draco filed this information away for later contemplation.

“Draco. That’s right, I remember now. Come closer, boy. I haven’t seen you since you were crying in you’re mother’s arms”

Walking forward on trembling legs, Draco approached the seated creature and kneeled before it, keeping his head bowed.

“Lift your face to me”

Draco looked up, and found himself staring into an almost comical face. Chalk coloured, with red, animalistic eyes and a slit for a nose, the Dark Lord certainly looked as far away from attractive as could be. Then Draco noticed the sharp teeth and the cruel sneer on the creature’s lips and shuddered.

“My, my Lucius, what an attractive boy you’ve spawned. “

Lucius bowed his head in gratitude. It was, after all, his loins that had created the boy kneeling before the Dark Lord, obviously Draco’s beauty was down to his superior genes.

“How old are you, boy?”

“I’m… sixteen, M-my Lord” Draco whispered, trying desperately to control the tremors in his voice.

“Aaah, sixteen. Soyoung. I remember being you’re age. Long, long ago” The Dark Lord appeared to be lost in thought for a moment, before returning his eyes to the slender boy kneeling at his feet.

“You’re terrified of me, aren’t you, Little Malfoy?”

Draco felt his throat constrict in fear, and he looked up desperately at the creature before him. What could he say? If he lied and the Dark Lord found at anyway what would happen to him. Willing himself to be brave, Draco opened his mouth and spoke the truth:

“Yes.”

Lucius’s pale cheeks flushed with anger, but the Dark Lord merely chuckled, an amused, dry chuckle more like a cough than laughter.

“You’re son amuses me, Lucius. He’s honest. He knows better than to lie to Lord Voldemort. This pleases me a great deal”

‘Oh thank God…’ Draco thought, feeling his panicked heart begin to beat a little slower in his chest.

“I believe… I believe you’re son will prove an asset to our cause, Lucius”

“You are willing to take him?” Lucius asked, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Mark him?”

“You seem to have little faith in your son, Lucius. I see the beginnings of a brilliant mind forming within him. I feel it would be beneficial for him to become a Death Eater”

Draco suddenly had the feeling of a condemned man, kneeling before god to hear his fate. He had heard his and he was to be marked. He had received the death sentence.

“Of course, My Lord, however, the boy is returning to school tomorrow-“

“Do you think me so foolish to mark a child who will be going straight back into the fold of that fool, Dumbledore? No, I will mark him when he returns home for his summer holiday. That way, he will be given time to learn the glamours necessary to conceal his mark and how to use it before he returns to Hogwarts”

“Of course, My Lord, forgive me for implying otherwise” Lucius hastily bowed his head in supplication.

“Well then Draco, you should be off to bed now. You’re Father and I have much to discuss, and of course, you have a busy day tomorrow. I trust, if you learn anything of Potter or anything you think we should know about, you will not hesitate to inform us, isn’t that so?”

Draco nodded his head. The Dark Lord was asking him to spy for him.

He left the room in a daze, and suddenly a thought entered his mind, so bizarre and so ridiculous he thought maybe it was worth a shot.

What if he asked Potter for help?

‘Yes’ Draco thought as he slowly climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He would contact Potter for help. And if Potter refused him, then that was it. There was nothing left to do but end it. Escape his fate entirely by his own hand. That way, his father could not touch him, the dark lord, could not touch him…

But before he resorted to that… he had one last hope for survival…

He would Owl Potter the next morning, asking to meet him in a secluded compartment on the Hogwarts Express, and there his fate would be decided.

A/N: So, second chapter up already. I admit I don’t normally update so fast (I usually prefer to update once a week, not twice in as many days as is the case with this chapter!) however, I had an unexpected day off and it was raining so I thought I’d whack another chapter up for you all ^_^

Let me know what you think, the good and the bad bits of it. I would just like to make this clear as well: I DO NOT CONDONE ABUSE. As a writer, I find it challenging to write about the horrible stuff that puts everyone on edge in life, like abuse and death, and somehow make it into something… less evil. This fic will have a happy ending, and Draco will be saved from his fate, eventually, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let up on the angst- I’m just going to dilute it with some fluff as the two boys warm up to each other. So, here is the plea: REVIEW PLEASE!

So, until next time readers,

Lilith.
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'On The Edge'