Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Brutally Beloved	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3993 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or the characters named here. I make no money from this writing.

Chapter List
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Seen

“Congratulations, Potter.”
The same voice that had ruined his afternoon was back, and he was worried for a moment that he was beginning to hallucinate. But when Ginny wheeled them around to face the new partygoer, he felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t be here. The smile slipped, unbidden from his face, and he did his best to mask whatever it was he was feeling with irritation.
“What are YOU doing here?” He asked. Ginny patted his arm reassuringly.
“I’d heard he was back in the country, so I invited him. I know that before he left, you two were sort of becoming… well, not ‘friends’, but… I just thought it would be nice to invite him.” Ginny gave him a look full of meaning, and Harry, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out what meaning that was. He looked around for Hermione to interpret, but she was at the far end of the room. He shook his head slowly, and pasted his best smile on. He couldn’t disappoint Ginny after she’d gone to so much trouble for this party.
“The more the merrier.” Harry said, getting a small vengeful happiness from watching Malfoy’s expression twitch as he processed the familiar words. Harry knew from the way his smile stretched to one side in a sneer that he remembered saying those words himself, the last time they’d spoken before he left for France.
“Cheers.” Malfoy replied, and lifted the glass he was holding in toast to Harry’s subversive pettiness. Ginny grinned, glad that they’d decided to get along. Harry knew she had no idea what she’d just done by inviting him.
“I think I’ll have another drink.” Harry excused himself, kissing Ginny’s hair as a brief goodbye, so she’d be forced not to follow him. He heard her as he turned away, start up a conversation with Malfoy. She was trying. So hard. He felt bad for not being able to give her more. But really, she’d been the one to ask him to get married. He wasn’t sure what she expected, but was certain it had included more than he’d given her.
“Ogden’s.” He ordered from Neville’s wife at the bar, glad that she was a quiet type. She nodded, and poured his drink with a quiet smile. He offered her one of his rare, real smiles, and turned to let his fake smile stretch his lips as he observed his party. Ron was already well drunk, and Hermione was dotingly carting him around the room, rolling her eyes with good humor as he chatted far too loudly with every person they passed.
“It’s funny, really. None of them can see you’re not really smiling. Some friends.” Malfoy was next to him, ordering another drink for himself, and his voice was pitched low enough for only Harry to hear. Harry pretended he hadn’t heard, and managed to keep his lips stretched in false happiness. But Malfoy seemed determined to ruin his night further.
“Though, none of them noticed you fucking me, so...” He shrugged, and walked off, his face carefully showing a haughty disinterest in the gathering. Harry felt rage in his belly. How DARE Malfoy say that, out loud, surrounded by Harry’s family, and closest friends? What if someone had heard him? He swallowed his drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and followed after the blond, determined to set some boundaries.
“Malfoy!” He tried to keep his voice light, knowing that someone would hear, someone would be watching. There was always someone in a crowd, with their eyes on him. Malfoy kept walking, and Harry nearly let his smile slip as his face instinctively wanted to snarl. He had to keep himself in firm check as he took Malfoy’s elbow. “Malfoy. A word?” He made it clear it was not an invitation, but a demand. Malfoy shrugged, and let Harry lead him through the crowd. When Harry was forced to let go, he was surprised that Malfoy kept following, his face just as carefully disinterested as ever, though he did smile to a few people they passed.
“Harry, is something wrong?” Ginny was there, blocking his way, and Harry forced his smile wider.
“Nothing’s wrong, Gin. I promise I won’t let him goad me into a fistfight.” Harry promised with a forced chuckle. He couldn’t let that happen for multiple reasons. “Just want a quick word about party etiquette.”
“Alright…” Ginny gave him a small smile, and Malfoy a tight-lipped one. She wasn’t positive they wouldn’t fight, but she didn’t want to make a scene. Harry smirked to himself as he finally had his back to the whole room. Sometimes, being so familiar with someone made it easy to say the right thing to diffuse a potential disaster.
He led Malfoy out the back door, and into the small, closed off alley. He shut the door behind them, and leaned against it, blocking it with his body, so no one could come out after them ‘accidentally’. Malfoy faced him silently, head tilted at an insolent angle.
“‘Party etiquette’, Potter? Really? What, you’re worried I’ll ask some embarrassing question, or spill my drink on someone?” He sneered. Harry mimicked his mocking expression.
“No. I’m worried you’ll spout something personal, too loudly, just to ruin my life.” Harry retorted. Malfoy gave him a look then. A long look. One that made Harry feel like squirming. It was a look that said Malfoy was reading him. It was strange, knowing Malfoy could read him easier than even Hermione could. Malfoy had seen him as no one else had. He’d known what was inside Harry before even Harry had.
“What are you, blind?” Malfoy’s startled exclamation was due to Harry running right into him. He met silver eyes, and suddenly was seeing him across a men’s lavatory, instead of in a Ministry hallway. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how he and Malfoy had ended up snogging. It was as though, no matter how many times he revisited it, his brain refused to process it correctly, and kept sending it back to the forefront. It refused to be stored securely in some vault. Malfoy’s silver eyes were full of hatred, but as Harry froze, trapped briefly by his own panic, and memories, he saw Malfoy’s eyes flicker between his own, and then to his lips. He was just as scarred over the event as Harry was. It was a small comfort, knowing that.
“Don’t you say a fucking word, Potter.” Malfoy hissed, leaning just close enough to issue the warning without it echoing down the hall. Harry felt his heart skip as Malfoy leaned in. He leaned away, making his face express repulsion.
“Say what, that you tried to kiss me?” Harry taunted, unable to stop himself from goading the blond. He’d had a shitty week, and suddenly, here was Malfoy, already being intolerable, and perfect for a little venting. Harry wouldn’t even mind another black eye, if it brought the same kind of relief their last fight had brought. It had calmed his paranoia, in a way. Settled his life into a routine. Instead of some unnameable evil to worry about, there was Malfoy. A very real threat to his existence, and one he had to avoid at all costs. But it had been three months since the men’s room. And that spark of sanity and that small anchor of having something to worry about had started fading.
“Shut your FUCKING mouth!” Malfoy shoved him into the wall, and Harry felt like he’d already won, provoking such a response.
“Worried someone will find out you fancy me?” Harry chuckled, not lifting a hand to defend himself as Malfoy grabbed him, a look of pure murder in his eyes.
“I don’t fancy you, Potter. I can’t even fucking STAND you.” His hand was around Harry’s throat, pinning Harry against the cold stone corridor with an uncomfortably tight grasp. Harry knew he could break out of it easily, knew, from his Auror training, that he could win any fight Malfoy thought to start. So he egged him further.
“Oh please. You’ve always been obsessed with me.” He hissed, feeling an alien, cruel smirk take over his face. Malfoy looked absolutely livid, his face scrunched in a snarl, his breaths coming in short, ragged, angry huffs. Harry knew he was going to throw a punch.
It still hurt when Malfoy’s fist found its way into his gut, and he lost his breath for a moment, doubled over, into Malfoy’s angry hands. Malfoy grabbed a handful of his hair to pull him back upright, and Harry winced, as a few roots were yanked out by the rough yank. For a brief, gasping moment, Harry felt helpless. He hated that feeling. He’d worked so hard not to ever feel that way again. Never to feel as if he could be shoved into a cupboard for doing nothing wrong, as if he had no control over the path his life could take. He knew the muggle term was PTSD, but knowing it did nothing to quell the surge of panic. He lashed out, before he’d even caught his breath, his body automatically moving in the forms he’d trained so hard on recently. He twisted Malfoy’s arm, got his own arm around his neck, and swiftly switched their positions, slamming Malfoy into the wall behind him as he turned, pinning him from behind, the captured arm twisted behind his back, the grasp Malfoy had had on his hair completely broken, as the blond hissed in pain at the sudden angle of his shoulder. Malfoy’s cheek was pressed into cool stone, and Harry watched as he closed his eyes, not struggling against the already painful hold. He’d expected a headbutt, or him to kick backwards, as they’d been taught to be ready for, but he just breathed in ragged breaths. Harry smirked, and let him go. Malfoy turned, pressing his back to the wall, and opened his eyes to glare at Harry’s smirking face. Harry leaned in to the glare, his smirk widening, challenging Malfoy to try again.
But he’d found it hard to smirk with Malfoy’s lips crushed to his, and teeth pulling at his skin. He was SURE Malfoy had started it, this time, but it didn’t seem to matter. Malfoy’s passion was so violent, that even fighting back felt as if he was reciprocating. Which he wasn’t. He wasn’t agreeing to ANY of this, but Malfoy had his tongue between his teeth, and so he HAD to retaliate. But slamming himself forward, into Malfoy, seemed to have the exact opposite effect. There wasn’t enough room for him to hit Malfoy hard enough to hurt him, and instead, he was then pressed against the warm, writhing body, and it had the strangest effect on him. He’d felt himself getting aroused by the battling of their bodies, and as Malfoy dominated the kiss, Harry felt the need to take it over. He couldn’t be helpless. Not even in this.
So he grabbed Malfoy’s face, shoved his knee between his legs, and tore his mouth away from the demanding, angry tonguing. He forced Malfoy’s head out of his way, and sank his teeth into the blond’s throat, letting go after barely a second, only to leave another sharp bite, lower. Malfoy pushed at him futilely, making harsh sounds of pain as Harry avenged his own mouth’s abuse. He could feel the unmistakable hardness of Malfoy’s arousal pressing into his lower belly. He knew it should disgust him, he hated Malfoy, he wasn’t into blokes, and he’d never even thought of making out so ferociously before. He’d always thought it should be sweet, caring, or passionate. Not painful and bruising.
He was distracted by a soft clicking sound. The sound of a nearby door opening. He practically shoved himself away from Malfoy, and did what he could to straighten his robes before the intruder came into sight. Malfoy didn’t seem to care about how he looked. He took off, escaping up the hallway, past the opening door, without bothering to even run his hands through his messy hair. Harry smiled, and bid the intruder good day. It was a woman he almost recognized, but couldn’t name. He knew she worked in Ministry, though, and waited until she’d passed him to begin walking. He realized Malfoy was getting away, and thought he should probably catch up to him, and set some things straight. He had to make sure Malfoy understood that this hadn’t been enjoyable. He’d just wanted to win the twisted game Malfoy was playing.
He hurried toward the Atrium, and managed to catch him just as he got to one of the large fireplaces used for Flooing.
“Malfoy!” He grabbed the other’s arm, and kept him from throwing the handful of green dust. “Wait.”
Malfoy turned, a look of surprise being wiped away by a snarl.
“Get off of me!” He hissed, his eyes darting around the Atrium. Harry rolled his eyes.
“I just wanted to say-” Harry began, but he was cut off by Malfoy grabbing him. The blond took one last look around the Atrium, looking for any witnesses, and then he pulled Harry into the fireplace, his arm wrapped around his waist, keeping Harry’s body pressed against his in the tight space as he tossed down his handful of powder, and called the name of his home.
The ride was short, and nauseating, and Harry stepped from the grand fireplace, ready to shout at Malfoy for kidnapping him. He turned and was met with a wand in his face. He froze, taking a moment to read Malfoy's expression. He looked ready to use the wand in his hand, and Harry swallowed. He knew Malfoy was better with a wand than his fists, and with his already drawn, he had the clear advantage.
“I swear to god, Potter, if you go shouting through the Ministry about trying to fuck me in a corridor, I will kill you.” Malfoy threatened. Harry wasn’t willing to gamble his life on whether Malfoy was bluffing or not.
“Oh, god, Malfoy! I wasn’t trying to fuck you! Get OVER yourself!” He argued. But he hadn’t even THOUGHT of that until then. Suddenly, his mind was flooded with the thought.
“Oh really? Then what was the next step of your grand plan, Potter? From where I was standing, it seemed an awful lot like you were about to start pulling clothes off.”
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but he realized… it had been true. He’d been pulling Malfoy’s shirt from his skin, so he could assault more of him. But… It hadn’t really been sexual, had it? He found he couldn’t answer that. Not honestly. For whatever reason, he’d LIKED overpowering Malfoy. In more than just a vengeful way, and different than the relief of defending himself.
“I was winning. That was all.” He finally said, though even he didn’t believe it. Malfoy laughed at him, until Harry found more words to throw at him like knives. “YOU’RE the one who started it! Why the fuck did you kiss me again?” Harry forced all the outrage and offense he could into that question, and for a moment, Malfoy seemed speechless.
“To prove a point. And, apparently, point fucking proven. You can’t keep your damn hands off of me, Potter. I’m not the one obsessed.” Malfoy finally ridiculed, and Harry hated him more than ever. He couldn’t POSSIBLY know that Harry’s thoughts had been obsessively drawn back to that first incident. He couldn’t possibly have even guessed that Harry had touched his swollen lips afterward, when he’d been inspecting the bruises from the fight in the mirror, and been able to still taste Malfoy on his tongue.
“I’m not obsessed with you, Malfoy, you slimy git! I don’t WANT to put my hands on you, ever, and you getting off on fighting with me is nothing but disgusting!” Harry lied, itching to grab Malfoy round the throat, and throttle him. Part of him wondered if Malfoy would enjoy that, too. Probably, weird pervert that he was.
“Really? Then leave.” Malfoy stepped aside and held a hand out to the fireplace, welcoming Harry to go straight back to the Ministry, and his rotting, restless, paranoid life of nothing but paparazzi and waiting for the next attack. He tried. He really did try his best to walk confidently past Malfoy, and back to ‘normal’. But the look on Malfoy’s face was one of pure challenge. Harry wanted to wipe that look from his face, and make him regret ever troubling him.

Before he knew it, he was lying naked on a huge bed, with only a silk sheet draped across his hips, staring at the ceiling of Malfoy s bedroom. He was sore, scraped up, and bruised, but he knew Malfoy had it worse. He couldn't bring himself to look at the man next to him, to face his shame. So he rolled from the bed, pulled on his clothes, and left without a word. After all, what was there to say after such a mistake?

A/N:

Lily-Hopper: That makes me so happy to hear!!! Unfortunately, the third part of The Hole/Scattered is fighting me, and may take a while to be at a point I can start posting it. I have this one, and maybe two others that look like they'll be finished before that one is ready. I'm not too used to writing Harry/Draco pairings, so I really hope you enjoy! Please leave any comments if you think something needs improved: I really feel this one was kind of a venting piece, since the other I'm working on is super sweet, and haven't really re-read it a million times before posting, like most of my thers, so I expect a LOT of room for improvement. Or, if things get too edgy, and I should find a different way of writing them in future peices. XD
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Brutally Beloved