Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

To Find The Missing Lifeline	By : EvilConcubine Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 37353 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
19. Time Is Precious

     In the afternoon Harry returned. He hadn't slept more than three hours last night, but he was so eager to see Draco as soon as possible that any lack of sleep paled before it. He'd only waited, because he wanted Draco to have enough time to rest. Florie let him in. She wasn't looking angry anymore, but still refused to speak to him. Draco was drinking tea when the brunet entered his room.

"Good afternoon, Harry," the blond said, feeling pleased that Harry had come back so soon. At heart he'd been a little afraid that Harry would change his mind for some reason, even if he'd felt that this fear was completely groundless.

"Hi, Draco," Harry smiled.

"How do you feel about going for a walk?"

"Only you could choose such a gloomy and cloudy day for it," Harry smiled again.

"The sun is not good for my skin, and besides, it's quite warm," Draco turned up his nose. It was a gesture Harry had already started to like long ago, even if it had irritated him in the past; or had not quite irritated, he couldn't decide. Anyway, it suited him, it was very typical of him, it was very Draco, and thus Harry liked everything about this fact. He felt warmth in his chest.

"Let's go then."

     They went to Draco's favourite place near the river. The blond had taken a thin blanket with him. He spread it out on the ground and they both sat down.

"What are you planning to do in the near future?" Draco asked. He wanted to add: 'Now that you're free from the curse and free to do anything you desire,' but decided not to.

"Umm... Apart from doing absolutely anything to get you back," Harry started, looking at Draco's face with the soft little smile, and noticing that the blond nearly smiled, too. "I'm going to start the Auror training with Ron."

"So, you're going to become an Auror?"

"I haven't decided yet, but I think it's going to be useful anyway. It's about the knowledge. They study the law, the fundamentals of healing, the battle magic, the defence. Many things."

"You have everything to succeed in these subjects," Draco admitted.

"Compliments, Draco? You're spoiling me," Harry smiled again.

"It wasn't a compliment, it was the fact." The blond suddenly winced and arched his back, taking a breath that wasn't as deep as he'd wanted.

"What is it?" Harry asked a little worried.

"Do you mind if I lie down for a while?"

"Of course, I don't," the brunet said understandingly. "The baby is romping about, isn't he?"

"It's not about the kicking. It's just my back..." Draco lay down on his side. It felt comfortable enough to relax a little. Harry lay down, too, so their faces were close and they were looking into each other's eyes for several minutes.

"You're beautiful," Harry whispered. Draco touched his temple with his fingertips gently, the fingers travelled down to the brunet's jaw and then to the back of his ear. Harry closed his eyes at this, enjoying the tenderness and starting to feel whole again, as if the touch could undo all the sufferings he'd endured. It was like healing. The fingers were running through his hair slowly and softly. When Harry opened his eyes, the grey ones weren't looking at him anymore: full of serenity, they were directed to the river. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the soft and relaxed features in front of him. When the hand stopped, he took it in his own and touched it with his lips. He noticed that the sun appeared on the sky as the clouds were dispersing slowly. The sun made something on Draco's neck shine a little, so Harry also noticed that he was wearing his Christmas gift - the amulet, made of white gold with the black gemstone. It was showing itself from behind Draco's shirt collar. Harry was pleased with the fact that Draco was wearing it. It was a good sign; he knew it was.

"I want to swim," Draco said suddenly, still looking at the water dreamily.

"But are you sure it's safe?" Harry asked.

"I'm sure. I'm allowed to swim if I don't overexert myself. The water is a salvation for my spine. I've already swum here once and the river wasn't very cold."

     The blond got up with some Harry's help and started to undress, until only the short boxers remained on his body. He'd even taken off the wide pregnancy belt that he usually wore under his shirt and pants to support his belly and lower back. Harry couldn't help but watch him. Draco approached the river and entered it slowly. When he was almost waist-deep in the water, he dipped into it to his shoulders several times to adjust, and then went deeper until he could swim slowly and carefully. He was diving, but his head was only a few inches below the surface, never going deeper, and his movements were always smooth. Harry was looking at him almost enthralled as the blond was enjoying the water. He dived again, swimming closer to Harry until his feet could reach the bottom so he could stand. He wiped his face with palms and tucked his wet hair behind the ears. Then he looked at the brunet, who was squatting near the water, looking back at him.

"Would you care to join?" Draco asked. Harry was more than willing and soon joined him. It was a pleasant experience for both of them. Draco relaxed in the water quickly. It made him feel weightless, relieved the pain in his back and all the strain was almost gone.

"How do you feel?" the brunet asked, when he'd come to the surface in front of him.

"Much better..." Draco sighed with a small smile.

"You were right, the water's just great."

"It's such a relief. I'd gladly stay in the water till the very delivery." The blond breathed out and closed his eyes.

"What would the little one say if he knew that one of his daddies is an amphibian or even a merman?" Harry chuckled.

"Harry, that wasn't even remotely witty," Draco mumbled, but couldn't hold back a smile to Harry's delight.

"How is he, by the way?"

"I suppose he likes it, too. And why would he object? He's in the water all the time."

"Right," Harry sighed with a smile, suppressing the urge to touch Draco's belly.

     They were splashing around and diving to their hearts' content, however, Draco decided not to stay in the water for too long. When he returned on the bank, Harry followed him. He cast a drying and then a warming charm on the blond, who smiled at the attention, even if he wasn't cold. They got dressed and spent some time, sitting on the blanket in silence. Both started to feel awkward again. In silence they returned to the house and into Draco's sitting room, where they were sitting and looking at each other openly. Although, it was hardly possible, it seemed, the hours had passed. Finally Harry couldn't take it anymore; he moved the armchair closer to the canapé, sat down in front of Draco and leaned forward to him, so their faces were separated only by some inches. Draco's attentive eyes were following his every move. It saddened Harry that the blond was still on the alert, still on his guard; even if slightly, even if almost unconsciously. Harry was looking at his face. Pale-pink, beautiful lips were so close now, so tempting. He desperately wanted to taste them again. But at heart he was truly afraid of being rejected. He didn't know if he was really wanted and forgiven. Well, he felt that he was, but he didn't know if it wasn't too soon to come closer. All he needed was just a tiny sign from Draco: a look in his eyes or a small move towards him, but the blond was just waiting and observing.

"I..." the brunet sighed. "I want to kiss you," he said bluntly.

"You won't take 'no' for an answer, will you?" Draco almost whispered. He was trembling inside. He wasn't sure if he was ready, but the anticipation was thrilling and sweet.

"I won't," Harry said quietly, then got up and moved his face even closer.

"Do I have any choice at all?"

"No, you don't."

"Didn't think so..." the blond whispered. His breathing was shaking and he stopped breathing at all as soon as Harry's lips finally touched his. He only exhaled with the muffled moan when the wet tongue entered his mouth gently and met his. It seemed too much and Harry broke the kiss, as he was strangely afraid to become violent in his impatience. However, he moved closer, placing his knees on the edge of the canapé, so Draco's legs were between his, and gently pressing his belly to the blonde's. Avoiding putting any uncomfortable pressure on the body beneath his own, he was barely sitting on Draco's lap. He took the pale and smooth face in his hands, and his eyes were slowly travelling all over it. It was a feast for his eyes to be able to look at this face again, being so close; he couldn't get enough. Draco was captivated, though a little nervous. It seemed only Harry's eyes were capable of doing such things. They were caressing his skin, just looking at it, making Draco feel the sweet tingling and warmth in his lower stomach. He felt giddy as the gentle and scrutinising gaze was streamlining his every curve. He was feeling it almost physically; it was like wandless magic. It had always made him feel as if he was a pure perfection, and now it felt familiar and as intimate as the physical contact. The green eyes were tracing his eyelids, eyebrows, hair, ears, lips, nose, chin, then slid down his neck to the hollow on his throat just between the collarbones, where Harry could see the pulsation. And he could tell that Draco's heart was beating fast. He touched the hollow with his lips. The Adam's apple quivered slightly under the look of his eyes as they were travelling back to the blonde's grey ones. Draco moved his face closer and they kissed again. Slowly the kiss became passionate. They only broke it when the baby kicked and Harry also felt it with his own body. He chuckled softly, looking down. Draco smiled at him, but the smile soon disappeared, giving way to the sadness.

"What's wrong?" Harry whispered, stroking the blond hair gently.

"What an irony... Many times they asked me if I was going to use magic, potions or any other tricks to make you mine."

"Those fools were asking the wrong person. I'm sorry you were going through that because of me."

"It wasn't because of you. You know, the most stupid thing is that they were the first people to know... how I feel."

"I know things have been far from being perfect for both of us, to put it lightly. But, personally, I think we deserve a chance."

"What if we fail? I don't want to go through anything like that again," Draco shook his head.

"Neither do I. I've learned the hard way how it feels to live without you. I don't want to feel like that ever again." Deep and sincere pain appeared in the green eyes for a moment.

"People say: bad beginning makes a bad ending," the blond smiled a little.

"You can't be that superstitious. And since when do you care what people say? And... The beginning wasn't bad at all, was it? Surely, you don't mean the way we started when we were eleven years old," Harry chuckled quietly. They were looking into each other's eyes again.

"I love you," Draco said suddenly and barely audible. Harry's chest filled with joy at the words. It was even more, much more, than just a joy. He was overfilled and the feeling made it hard to breathe. He thought that the blonde's eyes were looking deep into his soul; it was so intense that Harry's body nearly went limp. He put his head on Draco's shoulder, holding him with both arms.

"Love you too..." he whispered. Draco's arms embraced him in return.

     For some time they were just enjoying the closeness without saying a word. Harry became relaxed and calm, concentrated only on Draco's breathing and baby's little movements, he could feel. The familiar warmth of his beloved one felt like coming home after a hard and very long way. The calmness was lulling and soporific, and soon he felt drowsy, still trying to hold the balance, not to put the unnecessary weight on Draco.

"Love you..." he mumbled again, already unable to keep his eyes opened, and his voice was thick. "You have no idea, how much..."

"And... how much exactly?" the blond demanded with curiosity and softness in his voice.

"...Love you so much it hurts."

"Sounds good," was the quiet approval, which made Harry smile.

"Oh, really?"

"Uh-huh... Sounds like I'm not the only fool here. It's comforting..."

     It didn't take long for Harry to fall into a doze, due to the fact that he'd been suffering from the sleep deprivation lately. But even through his sleep he could feel that his mind and body were really resting, in spite of not quite comfortable position. Later he only felt that he was put down cautiously, the pillow was put under his head and his spectacles were removed, but it didn't really wake him. He felt warm and comfortable.

     Harry was asleep for more than two hours already and Draco couldn't make himself stop looking at him, sitting next to him. The brunet was snoring softly. Sometimes his eyes were moving under the eyelids or his eyelashes were fluttering a little. The attentive grey eyes were noticing every detail, even if they'd seen it all before. Eventually, Draco got bored and went out on the balcony for a while, then came down to the living room to have dinner; but every time, being away, he hurried back to his sitting room to see his sleeping love, though not without frowning at his own sentimentality. The baby was sleeping as well. It seemed the child curled himself tightly into a ball, giving a relief to his daddy's ribs and lungs for some time. 'The kingdom of sleep,' Draco smiled to himself, rubbing his belly gently. At least, he could enjoy, taking almost deep breaths of the fresh air, - it was raining outside and the balcony doors were opened wide, letting the freshness in.

     Something soft, pleasant and slightly wet was touching his mouth, and Harry started to wake. The smile appeared on his face as he opened his eyes and saw Draco above him. The blond was planting the light kisses on Harry's lips.

"Oh, God..." the brunet sighed with delight.

"No, it's just me," the pink lips replied and touched him again. This time the very tip of the soft tongue slid between Harry's lips, but retreated as soon as Harry tried to kiss back. Draco was teasing him, breaking the kisses.

"I couldn't have imagined a better way of being awakened. I fell asleep, sorry." Harry rubbed his sleepy eyes. He was pleased to see that Draco's knees and elbows were astride his body and to feel their bellies slightly pressed together again. The closeness felt incredibly touching.

"That's all right. I was just... lonely," the blond answered with a faint tone of seductiveness. Harry held him in his arms, stroking his back and looking up at him.

"Oh, baby, you could have woken me up sooner then," he smiled.

"I couldn't. Consider me generous, benevolent or even sappy today. You're a bad influence, Harry Potter," Draco teased with the low voice, which made Harry's penis start to rise; and the pink lips touched Harry's neck, making the brunet hold his breath. They kissed; their hands were touching, caressing... When Draco pulled Harry's tee shirt up, the brunet willingly helped him to take it off. His heart was beating sweetly in his chest in some kind of an expectation, and he was already fully hard. He didn't know what exactly was on Draco's mind, but he was dying to find out, and he was more than glad to see such eagerness. The blonde's mouth was kissing his chest, teasing his nipples, and then moved lower. He rubbed his cheek against Harry's lower abdomen, slightly covered with the dark hair, then kissed it. Panting and moaning quietly, Harry was still marvelling at the way his senses had sharpened again after he'd become free of the curse that had been stifling and smothering everything in him. Now he was free and the feeling was breathtaking. Actually, the feeling was blooming luxuriantly inside of him. But the most wonderful thing was the awareness that he was lying half-naked with Draco atop of him, and he couldn't get enough of touching his hair, so soft and so blond; the awareness that he was loved and wanted. He couldn't hold back the smile at the thought. Loved and wanted... A little too overwhelmed with joy, he hardly noticed that the blond had already unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, so when he felt that the gentle hand slid down his pants, touched his bare flesh and pulled it out, Harry groaned loudly and deeply. He looked down, his breathing was shaking.

"Sit up..." Draco whispered. He moved down on the floor on his knees. Harry complied, eager to do anything to make Draco feel comfortable. He pressed his back against the back of the canapé and put his feet on the floor. The blond moved closer between Harry's legs. For a few moments he was looking at the pulsing member in front of him, then licked it and finally took its head in his mouth. Harry writhed a little and moaned. He was looking down at Draco's head, which was moving as the blond was sucking him gently, tonguing him in his mouth at the same time. Draco's arms were wrapped around his hips. Harry was stroking these arms up and down with his hands and then his hand was cupping Draco's chin softly to prevent the blond from moving too fast, because Harry knew, he would come too soon otherwise. The warmth and wetness of the mouth, sucking him in, the soft tongue, teasing him, were making it simply impossible to hold back. Harry's sounds of pleasure became louder, and then, shuddering and groaning, he threw his head back and came into this pleasurable mouth. When the last shivers of orgasm faded, his body became jelly-like and nicely relaxed. He looked down and Draco looked back at him with his cheek pressed to the brunet's knee. Harry helped him to stand up and pulled him closer to kiss. He would love to take all the blonde's clothes off, see every part of his body (of course, he'd seen him almost naked near the river earlier this day, but he hadn't had a chance to take a closer look), wanted to touch and to kiss every part of him. Draco seemed to guess his intentions somehow, and shook his head.

"Not today," he said. Harry sighed, thinking that, perhaps, such activity simply wasn't allowed in Draco's condition, or he wasn't ready, so the brunet was just holding him in his arms, enjoying everything his love was willing to give.

     When it was time for Harry to go, neither of them wanted him to leave, but both remained quiet about it. Harry pressed himself against Draco's back and wrapped his arms around his belly, supporting the underside of it, to unburden the blonde's suffering back a little. Draco closed his eyes, relaxing, as his whole body was resting against the strong body behind his, enjoying the way Harry was holding him so securely and feeling the warm breath against his ear. The brunet was looking at them in the mirror, then buried his face into the fair hair and forgot everything else. It was just softness and wonderful, fresh smell.

"Good night, love," he said gently against the back of the blond head.

"Tomorrow?" Draco asked.

"Of course. Tomorrow," Harry confirmed.

"This time try to sleep."

"I'll try."

     Harry left after kissing Draco's lips and his tummy goodnight, but returned in the morning. Florie, still not very friendly, but politely, told him that her young master was still in the bedroom, but was expecting Harry, nevertheless. Draco invited him in when he knocked. He was still in bed, lying on his side with a pillow between his knees.

"Hi..."

"Morning, Harry."

"What is it? Are you okay?" the brunet asked, kneeling next to bed and kissing Draco's cheek.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just resting after bath."

"You scared me," Harry sighed in relief.

"I'm just tired all the time. Need some time to bestir myself in the morning," the blond explained.

"But you're looking good anyway," Harry smiled.

"Good to know," Draco returned the smile. "Ugh... My back hurts," he frowned and shifted a little.

"Do you want a massage?" Harry offered. The blond hesitated for a second, but the offer was quite... tempting.

"Rather," he nodded. He turned on his back and gave Harry a flask of fragrant oil from his bedside table. Sometimes he used it for his belly, because the skin was slightly itching occasionally, since the belly had started to grow.

     Harry started with his feet, rubbing them gently with his oily hands, paying attention to every toe, and then he moved to the ankles and calves. Draco was in bliss, though aching a little at the same time, since his legs were tired most of the time almost equally with his back, even if he'd got used to it a little, as opposed to the back pains. Harry was looking at him sympathetically, realising how hard the pregnancy for Draco really was, he could feel the tension with his hands. He spared neither time nor efforts to dissolve every knot of tension. The muscles were relaxing under his warm and caring palms and fingertips.

"Ooh... I'd pay you a fortune for doing this every day," the blond moaned in relief.

"No, thanks. It's free," Harry smiled. He only stopped when he felt that the blonde's legs were completely relaxed. He pulled the sheet, which was covering Draco, higher. The blond was looking at him curiously. Very soon Harry started to suspect that Draco was completely naked under the sheet and it led his thoughts in even more pleasant directions, however, he decided to ignore it for now. He started to massage Draco's thighs, though they were less tense. Draco didn't mind when the brunet pulled the sheet down and exposed his belly. Harry was looking at it with interest and curiosity. He noticed the way the navel was popped out; he also saw a thin strip from the navel down to the pubis. It was a little darker than Draco's normally pale skin. Harry traced the strip with his finger. He looked up to see the blonde's reaction and was glad to see that he didn't mind at all about being touched like this. Since there was no disapproval, Harry was rubbing the sides of the tummy with his oiled hands, then kissed the protruded belly button, but kept stroking the belly. When he felt little movements under his palms, as if a reaction to his touches, he smiled happily in surprise. Draco smiled, too. He'd got used to such things, but for Harry it was still new, and he enjoyed every moment.

     After massaging the blonde's hands and arms, Harry helped him to get up on his knees and started to work on his neck, shoulders and back, especially the small of his back, where the tension was higher than anywhere else. Harry was trying his best, knowing that this beautiful posture was going through a lot of stress due to the load. The blond was purring in delight at the touches. And what was more, it was arousing.

"Are you certain you want to become an Auror? You definitely have some other remarkable talents. And quite skilful hands, too," the blond said lazily.

"I'm sure you wouldn't want me to touch anyone else," Harry smiled.

"Well, yes, it's true."

"Feeling better?"

"Much better. But still, not good enough," the blond replied playfully, but softly.

"Your any wish will be fulfilled, my prince."

"Any?" Draco turned to him and held him in his arms. Their lips locked in a long and sweet kiss. The blond broke it. "How about this one?" he whispered, directing Harry's hand down to his groin under the sheet, shaking slightly while doing so. The brunet took the hard erection in his hand and squeezed it gently, making Draco gasp and close his eyes. "Yes... Yes, touch me..."

"Gods. Want you so bad..." Harry whispered, breathing heavily, and kissed the pale neck.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

     Draco helped Harry to take off his clothes; their hands were trembling a little and impatient. Touching and kissing each other fervently, they couldn't get enough. Harry tried to press his groin against Draco's, but it wasn't easy because of his belly. He smiled and just took the blonde's member in his hand again. He made Draco lie down and started to kiss his body self-forgetfully, desiring to gain more and more of those sweet mewls and moans. He felt the way the blonde's body somehow had become a little softer than before the pregnancy; some parts had rounded out just a little bit - like his buttocks and thighs, for example. Harry wouldn't have even noticed it, if he hadn't been exploring this body so often before. He didn't really care - Draco was always beautiful to him. He also noticed that the blonde's nipples had become extremely sensitive; it probably had something to do with pregnancy, too. Harry was gentle with them not to cause pain.

     When he took the pulsing hardness in his mouth, the blond howled and arched his back. Draco hadn't felt anything like that since they'd broken up. He'd only masturbated two or three times since then (or tried to masturbate), but his mind had only brought him the pictures of having sex with Harry, so after the orgasm (if things had been going that far at all) he'd had such attacks of depression that he'd finally given it up, refusing to repeat the experience, and avoided touching himself like that again, which had been frustrating. Now that his body, that had been neglected for too long, was touched and caressed, it felt mind-blowing.

"Take me! Now... Want you..." he stuttered between the sensual moans. Harry looked at him. He admired the half-lidded eyes, parted lips and nice pink flush across Draco's beautiful face that literally radiated with longing. Draco's hard nipples and his penis, twitching in excitement, spoke for themselves as well. The sight was breathtaking.

"Are you sure it's not dangerous?" Harry whispered a little hoarsely, but kept stroking the throbbing flesh and quivering thighs with his hands. His own member became wet with pre-come at the offer and his face flushed a little just as Draco's. 'Oh, please, say that it's not dangerous...'

"...I asked... yesterday," Draco confessed. Indeed, last evening, after Harry had left, he'd firecalled Pomfrey to ask her if he was allowed to have sex, almost blushing, while asking the question. And she'd said that she saw absolutely no reason for him not to have it.

     He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and they sat up on their knees, kissing. The brunet pressed himself against Draco's side, slightly rubbing his erection against the smooth, pale hip. He oiled his fingers and touched the little hole between the pale buttocks. Teasingly he was stroking it with circular motions and finally pushed his middle and ring fingers inside carefully. Draco shivered and gasped, but his mouth was shut with a deep kiss. The feeling of being filled seemed a little odd, but it wasn't forgotten; at first a little uncomfortable, though, not unpleasant, but then extremely arousing. Harry was kissing his neck and face greedily, sucking his earlobe, and kept moving his fingers slowly. When Draco started to wonder if he was able to last till the fingers would be replaced by Harry's hard member, the fingers were pulled out of his hot and tight hole.

"So..." Harry started thoughtfully, a little confused about the position, comfortable enough for his love.

"This is going to be tricky," Draco agreed with a smile, understanding the reason of the confusion.

"Just make yourself comfortable. Believe me, I'll find the access to your sweet bum anyway," Harry assured him cheerfully, whispering into his ear, so the sweet shivers travelled down right to Draco's strained groin. He smirked at the words. Still on his knees, he just turned his back on Harry, sighing at his own clumsiness, and bent forward a little, setting hands against his thighs and pressing his bottom against Harry's groin. The brunet moaned at the touch and pressed back against the desirable bottom even harder.

"Ooh!.. Do it already!" the blond whined with the voice full of suffering. He wanted Harry all the way in. Immediately.

"Patience, sweetie..." Harry whispered. His trembling hand found the flask and applied some oil on the hard flesh, which was twitching in anticipation, despite of being so heavy. He pressed into Draco carefully; the penetration was slow and careful, even if both youths were dizzy with need. The giddy sensation of being whole hit Draco as Harry had spread him open and pressed against his bottom, fully buried inside so deep that their testicles were pressed together. Harry wrapped one arm around Draco's chest as he was moving in and out slowly. Soon the blond started to meet every move to encourage his lover to thrust harder and faster. Harry complied, but still refrained from moving too hard. He took Draco's erection in his oily hand and started to stroke it in time with moving inside his body. Panting, moaning and whimpering became louder and Draco's body tightened around Harry and in his hand. The pleasure was so intense that neither of them lasted even for two minutes, even if they tried. Shaking and arching his back, Draco came with loud hiccoughing cries. The pressure was so strong that he was erupting high up in the air. At the same time, Harry pushed inside him as far as possible, reaching his own climax, and cried out, holding the orgasming blond tight.

     They gave themselves only a few moments to get their breath before embracing each other, and their lips met again in the long, passionate kisses. They held each other as if afraid to let go, as if they were about to be separated forever.

     Almost the entire day they spent in bed, mostly just talking or kissing, just enjoying spending their time together and getting used to each other anew. In the evening Harry sighed with sadness.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked him, looking worried. Every change in Harry's demeanour, like this one, made him a little nervous, as if he was expecting something painful to happen.

"I don't want to go," the brunet confessed.

"Is anyone trying to turn you out?" Draco smiled in relief.

"No," Harry shook his head and kissed the blond eyebrow.

"Then what's the problem? I don't want you to leave."

"Then I'm staying here tonight," Harry smiled.

     And he stayed. However, the night wasn't untroubled. It seemed that the only thing that mattered was the fact that Harry was pressing himself to the back of his beloved one with his arms around him, but his subconsciousness presented him with the unpleasant surprise. He had a bad dream. He saw Ginny's face in front of him. She was telling him about her love; she told him that she'd do anything to be together with him, to make him hers. She tried to convince him that he would never find any happiness with anyone else, that they meant to be together, that it was his fate. He tried to argue, but couldn't hear his own voice, and she kept talking. Her eyes were trying to break his will, but he couldn't look away, even if he wanted to hit her face, just to make her stop talking.

     Draco woke him up by flinching in his sleep and Harry realised that he wasn't the only one who'd had a nightmare.

"Mother... M-mother..." the blond whimpered very quietly. Harry shook him out of sleep gently. Draco lifted his head a little and looked around perplexedly.

"It's okay," Harry whispered.

"What is it?"

"Just a bad dream."

"Really? I don't remember..." Draco mumbled sleepily. His head returned on the pillow and he straightened the other pillow that was placed between his knees to make himself more comfortable before he went back to sleep. Harry kissed his neck. He was still a little upset about the dream, but decided not to let it ruin their night. It was the first time they were sleeping together after a long period of being apart. It had been his cherished wish that came true. 'Some stupid dream. Hah...'

     In the morning after breakfast Harry remembered that he was supposed to meet Ron to sign up for the Auror training together, but he didn't want to leave Draco at all. However, the blond convinced him to go and Harry left, knowing that Draco would be waiting for his return. On the way to the front door downstairs, they met Neville, who was looking in silent shock as they were holding hands, quite... fascinated with each other, even if Harry was obviously in haste.

"Hi, Nev," Harry smiled, really glad to see his school friend.

"Umm... Hi..." the other youth replied quietly. They shook hands. The house was full of surprises, indeed. Finding pregnant Malfoy had only been the beginning.

"Too bad, I don't have any time to talk to you right now," Harry told him sincerely. "But I hope to see you later," he added cheerfully, kissed Draco's cheek, quickly left the house and disapparated, knowing that he was about to be late, though, not feeling well about leaving in such hurry without even proper goodbyes. 'I'll catch up on everything,' he promised himself with a smile. He was full of life again.

     Neither Ron nor Harry faced any difficulties, signing up for the training, but taking care of all the formalities took their whole day, and Harry was getting more and more nervous. When they were finally dismissed, he apparated back to Draco without delay. Seeing his fair-haired lover's concerned face after entering his sitting room, and then a relief, he realised that they both had acquired some separation anxiety. But everything was back to normal, once they found themselves in each other's arms, kissing madly and frantically. At supper Harry told Draco about his day, entertaining him with a story about one of the Aurors he'd met among his future tutors. The man had tried to purify some very dark artefact several years ago, it was his speciality, but something had gone wrong and his personality had split. It seemed he had got accustomed to it, but had to write everything down all the time to keep his alter informed about all the events and conversations, and they both were exchanging messages, like best friends, even playing jokes on each other or arguing sometimes. At least, that was what Harry had heard from the other people. The delicious food and their conversation put them both in a very good mood.

     This night they were making love gently and slowly, completely absorbed in each other, until they both were exhausted and fell asleep, cuddling up together. Nothing else existed.

     Soon enough they started to live together. At first, Harry couldn't imagine living in this house, but Draco didn't want to live anywhere else, not to mention that he was really attached to Snape. Harry was very concerned about Snape's reaction, since it was the man's house. At first, Severus consoled himself, thinking that the house was roomy enough for them. Then he thought that the irony was amusing, since the whole castle of Hogwarts hadn't been big enough for him and Potter. But, in the end, he decided that he didn't want to hurt Draco, so he allowed it to happen. Surprisingly, he didn't really care about Potter's presence. He'd already started to get used to the thought that he was meant to endure Potter's company since the brat had entered the school (or, more likely, before it, indirectly) till the rest of his life. But Draco was happy and it meant a lot, Severus' privacy was respected and Potter wasn't really giving him any trouble so far; so, even if he was hardly happy about the new inhabitant of the house, being a loner in many respects, he took it better than anyone had expected. Harry didn't know what gods he should thank for that miracle. Even if they were hardly talking to each other, he believed, it was a good start. He became even more certain of this, thinking about the memories that Snape had given him, quite sure that he'd been dying and wouldn't have another chance to make everything clear.

     Draco was more than relieved to know that they didn't make him choose between them, because he needed both of them. He felt content, living in a good and comfortable house with people he loved, expecting a child and knowing that he wouldn't have to wait too long - just a month or so. Harry started the Auror training, but it wasn't taking too much time from him and Draco so far.

     Even so, this day Draco was bored and the day seemed to be good for taking a walk. Since Harry was on his training and Severus was busy with Longbottoms (Draco didn't even have Neville to annoy and pick on, because today the Gryffindor hadn't come, unfortunately), he went alone. It was as peaceful as usually. He sat down on the big stone and relaxed. Too bad, Harry wasn't there with him. He missed him a lot today and was a little angry about it. 'Seriously, you always need some personal space and some time for yourself, too. You need it every day or you'll just go crazy, so stop these lamentations. He'll be back soon and you'll be able to hang on his neck, like you always do, and whine all you like about how much you missed him,' he told himself sternly. Their lives were returning back to normal and it wasn't wise to be upset without even having a good reason. He remembered the way Harry's lips had kissed his mouth, cheek, shoulder and hipbone in the morning when Harry had been leaving. Draco hadn't been awoken yet, but felt the loving kisses through his sleep. And when Harry had left, the blond had moved himself sleepily on the other side of the bed, which had still kept some warmth of Harry's body...

"What a nice place you've picked," he suddenly heard and jumped in surprise. The voice belonged to a woman and it wasn't familiar. He stood up quickly and turned in her direction, already starting to think about an explanation for his belly, not to let the stranger think about the obvious things, though it was hardly possible. At the same time, he took a wand in his hand, in case he would have to obliviate her, whoever she was, if she wasn't strong enough to resist it. He'd never seen any strangers near the forest at all, so it was quite unexpected. The woman wasn't alone - a man was standing next to her. It took Draco less than a second to realise that it wasn't a chance meeting and they weren't just some casual strangers. Their very presence, their specific black robes made his heart clench painfully. 'The Death Eaters...' His mind stubbornly refused to believe in what was happening; it seemed so unreal. Just some moments ago nothing had foreshadowed the trouble. He knew he'd seen the woman's face before, but he couldn't remember where and when. She was tall, her hair was dark-blond, tinted with a shade of grey, though it wasn't something about her age - she didn't look old at all. Most likely, she was middle-aged. Her eyes were very light grey, as far as Draco could notice from the distance. She was a well-groomed woman, but there was nothing truly remarkable about her. Draco wasn't really scrutinising her; his thoughts were already too busy.

     Everything was too unexpected, too fast to think, however, some things were obvious: he was too heavy to try to run away, he was too vulnerable to fight, too afraid to get hurt, even if he was equal (and he knew that he wasn't); and finally: no portkeys to try to disapparate and get home. 'Help... Anyone.' He didn't know if he should shield himself. But why? They weren't doing anything yet and it would be stupid to waste his magic. Attacking them wasn't a good idea as well. They were stronger, obviously, and he didn't want to provoke them. He hated himself for being so confused, for being unable to think clearly, for being scared almost rigid. Still unarmed and absolutely calm, they were looking at him and his wand sceptically. Draco became aware that someone else was behind him as the woman nodded to that person, whom he couldn't see, but he didn't have a chance to turn around and see who it was. Too fast...

"Stupefy," he heard the voice behind and saw red, the wand fell out of his hand as the wave of magic hit him. His body became paralysed instantly. He couldn't fight the all-absorbing unconsciousness, but he did everything he could to avoid falling on his belly, shrinking back. Hitting the ground, he lost consciousness even before he could feel any pain. The three black-robed people approached his motionless body on the grass.

"Lionel, you take the boy. Try not to harm him; we still don't know our Lord's plans for him," the woman said to the one of her companions. He nodded respectfully and obeyed. Big and strong, he easily picked up Draco's limp and insensible body. The boy's head was dangling as if his neck was boneless, as the man was carrying him in his arms. He almost resembled a rag doll and seemed lifeless in his dead faint. One of his eyes was half-opened, the pupil motionless, which only supported the impression of his lifelessness. Just in case, the man made sure that the blond boy was breathing. He didn't want to disappoint his Lord.

     Harry apparated to the house and looked up at the balcony out of the recently formed habit. Quite often Draco was looking out when Harry was coming back, sometimes covertly, from behind the curtain, though he'd always been caught in the act, and that made Harry know that he'd been missed a lot and waited. Because of that he never lingered after the training even for a while. Just sometimes he could spend some time with Ron or both Ron and Hermione, but Draco was always warned about it. This time Draco wasn't looking out and Harry wondered if he was sleeping or walking in the garden, however, it was unusual for him when Harry returned home. Yes, home... He entered the house and saw Snape in the living room. He was preparing some kind of a ritual. Most furniture was moved to the walls. Something was obviously wrong. The man's normally cold face couldn't hold back some anxiety. Quickly he looked through the page of an opened book on the table. Harry noticed a handkerchief in his hand. Snape was ignoring him, too busy with whatever he was doing.

"What's going on, sir? Where's Draco?" Harry asked, already feeling uneasy.

"Abducted," Severus replied without looking back.

"No... Oh, please, no..." Harry gasped, becoming weak in the knees. Dizzy with worry he tried to collect his thoughts, but failed. The wave of hot hit the back of his head and he wanted to grasp at something to keep the balance.

"Stop it," the man said firmly to prevent the younger wizard from going off into hysterics.

"But how? How did you know? Who could... Did you see them?"

"He was going for a walk and I promised to join him after finishing my work. But I only found his wand near the river," Severus said. Before he could continue his story, Harry interrupted him. There was a terror on his face.

"What if he's drowned?!" he exclaimed.

"I strongly oppose this version. He never goes swimming with no one else around to look after him. And, most assuredly, he doesn't go swimming with his clothes on; he would have left it on the bank as well, don't you think? Now, if you will allow me to continue," the man frowned, irritated about the way he had to spoon-feed everything to Potter, who couldn't think straight right now, when it was so necessary. His words and the timbre of his voice would have made Harry feel stupid in the other circumstances, but now he felt just helpless and worried sick. "Judging by the trails on the ground and by the traces of magic, someone knocked Draco down, then picked him up; unconscious or, at least, immobilised. There were three people. I believe one of them was a woman. They disapparated with Draco, beyond a doubt," Severus finished, trying his best not to get angry because of the time he was wasting, answering questions instead of starting the ritual. However, he could hardly remember when Potter had been listening to him so carefully.

"What are you trying to do now?" Harry asked. A lump in his throat made his voice sound odd.

"I'm trying to perform a tracking ritual, using his blood. It requires some time and concentration; quite problematic, as you keep distracting me from it."

"H-his blood?.." Harry whispered, appalled by the thought that Draco was badly injured on top of everything. Briefly the irritated man explained that several years ago Draco had cut himself accidentally, preparing some ingredients for the potion. Before tending the cut, Severus had wiped the blood with the handkerchief and then he'd decided to keep it in case something would happen and he would need to find the boy. The blood would be helpful in such kind of a task, unless someone used other spells to prevent it from working. Harry approved his prudence, but took a handkerchief out of the man's hand, shaking his head.

"Don't... There's much easier way to find him. I have a compass. Stay here, sir... Please. I'll be right back," he said quickly and ran upstairs, nearly stumbling over the steps. Severus scowled at him, but remained silent, summoning up his patience. He hated the incoherence, the useless running about and the panic, but, if Potter had a better idea how to find Draco, Severus would bear with it. Rather quickly Harry found the silver compass among his belongings and kissed it, once again thanking Draco for this incredibly useful gift in his thoughts. Just as quickly, he ran downstairs and firecalled Ron and Hermione. Without any proper explanations he asked for their help, and, since they could see the panic on their friend's face, they flooed in immediately. Shortly Harry explained the situation and they decided not to waste any more time.

     The cold was the first thing he felt. The second thing he realised was that he was lying on something cold and hard. The stone floor. He also became aware that he was very thirsty. It was painful to open his eyes and he could hardly see at first. He was in some kind of a dungeon and it was dark. Still half-conscious, but already feeling panic, growing inside of his chest and stomach, Draco closed his eyes and was scared to open them again. So painfully familiar... It wasn't one of his nightmares though. It was real. He was frightened to open his eyes again, afraid to turn his head and see his dead mother, lying next to him. The terror was spreading throughout him like a plague. If not the panic, he would have fully realised how fresh the memories of dread, extraordinary pain and humiliation were. The wounds of the past still weren't healed, it appeared, even if he'd thought different. The cold, the stone floor, the semidarkness of the chamber that smelled like fear, pain and despair. It had been learned by heart. It seemed the next moment he would hear the footsteps that had used to make his insides clench and his heart to beat madly, trying to escape through his burned throat; and Lucius or Volemort himself would enter the chamber, opening the barred door with the loud, unpleasant sound, resembling someone's squeak. They would only come to him with well-known purposes: to hurt, to torture, to hear him cry. He would probably start weeping before they started tormenting him again. Begging would only enrage Lucius and amuse the Dark Lord. The hours of insufferable pain would follow, at any rate. Pain, agony, shame, humiliation, hopelessness. Draco was so terrified that he was afraid to make a sound, but, eventually, the sob escaped him and it was louder than he'd wanted it to be. It echoed from the stone walls through the empty space he alone was occupying. It hurt too much. His vision was blurry when he ventured to look around again. But when he was able to focus, he realised that it wasn't the same chamber he'd feared to see. It looked different. Trying to force his mind to work, at the same time, he reminded himself that Severus had saved him from the captivity, sheltered him and nursed him back to life and back to health (at the very least, he'd done the best that could have been done about it); Harry had destroyed Voldemort, someone had killed Lucius during the battle. His tormentors were dead, destroyed, forever gone, so they couldn't hurt him anymore, could they? But that didn't mean he was safe. He wondered if he'd been taken away by the Ministry. He'd never been to Azkaban, but he thought, the place was hardly the prison, according to what he'd heard about Azkaban anyway. The next moment he remembered what had happened to him before he'd fainted. The Death Eaters... Another stab of anxiety hit him as he was conscious enough to remember that he was pregnant. Almost fervently, even if his hands were very weak and refused to move properly, he rubbed his belly to encourage the child to move, to let his father know that he was all right. 'Please, move...' Finally feeling the movement and a small foot, placed under his ribs, he sighed in relief, in spite of the discomfort. The next thing to do was checking himself to find out if he was injured. It seemed nothing was broken and he wasn't bleeding, though his body was sore and he was sure that there were bruises. He wanted to know where he was and got up with an effort. Feeling too dizzy to walk, he kneeled and moved to the narrow, barred door almost on his four. The doorway appeared to be low and it was hardly possible to move through it without bending down a little. There was a dim light outside, but he couldn't see anything. He didn't have a chance to move close enough, actually, he wasn't even one sixth of the way to the barred door as he noticed a shackle around his ankle and a short chain... Once the chain was straightened, it became visible; that was how it worked. Draco moved back on the spot where he'd regained consciousness, hoping to find just a little warmth. The chain and the shackle became invisible again. Draco rubbed his shoulders and wrapped his arms around himself. It was so cold... The only (hardly significant) source of light and warmth was a hanging metal bowl under the ceiling with the dying fire inside of it. Suddenly Draco remembered something that had taken place after he'd been taken away. He'd been hearing and feeling something quite remotely, being half-conscious just for a while. He'd felt some rocking as someone was carrying him in their arms. And he'd heard 'a sound' of the tunnels as if he was somewhere deep under the ground. But, at the same time, he could distantly hear something, resembling a train. It could have been just a dream and it wasn't helpful anyway, so it wasn't worth trying hard to remember the details. He didn't know where he was and he didn't know for how long he'd been unconscious. He hoped that nothing had happened to Harry and Severus and they were already searching for him. On the other hand... The people who'd kidnapped him had probably set up a trap or just made sure that he wouldn't be found. He wondered if they wanted Severus or Harry to take revenge on one of them or something. Or maybe they wanted personally him or... his baby? He tried not to panic, thinking that he lived with two war heroes, the powerful wizards, who cared for him. They would turn the world (or both) upside down to find him. And Harry had a compass that would help them to find him. They wouldn't leave him.., unless something had happened to them as well.

     It seemed he had to wait for hours before hearing the steps outside. But he hadn't really been waiting for them; quite the opposite. His heart started to beat faster. The fire blazed up in the bowl under the ceiling anew, and the chamber became much more illuminated. Once the black-robed figure entered the chamber, it approached him; a woman, the one he'd seen before he'd been knocked out with the spell. He crawled back to the wall and pressed his back against it. There still was no wand in her hands; instead, there was a long cigarette holder with the smouldering cigarette. She inhaled. Draco wrinkled his nose at the smell of the smoke. She kept looking at him, but her expression was unreadable.

"Who are you? What do you want?" he asked quietly as he couldn't keep silence anymore.

"Harry Potter," she replied almost unemotionally. Draco couldn't help thinking that she looked like she was waiting for something and didn't really know what to do with him. But then her lips, covered with black lipstick, twitched in a smile, and her very light, grey eyes looked down at his belly. He frowned and put his hands on it protectively as if her stare could hurt his child. "Draco, your father would have been so disappointed in you," she shook her head. He wasn't in the mood to explain that it was Lucius who had made it possible, in the first place. It was none of her business anyway.

"So, I'm the bait then..." he nodded instead.

"Yes and no. At first I thought you were a hostage, but now I can tell that our Lord has the other things in his mind. Harry Potter will find you sooner or later. But you'll be already dead. That's going to kill him. And I'll be already far away to keep a low profile for some time. My original plan has failed, but, to my surprise, I've found you. And this," she said, looking at his belly again.

"Who are you? Who is that Lord of yours?" he whispered, trying to ignore that she had just admitted that she was going to kill him.

"The name is Medea, though I don't see why it is so important for you to know," she shrugged, putting her cigarette out. Draco became thoughtful for a few moments. 'Medea... Medea...' It sounded so familiar.

"Medea Levington," he said quietly, remembering that the name had been mentioned in the paper, in the article about Harry. She was the one who had nearly ruined his mind. And Draco had also seen her picture in the paper; that was the reason he'd thought she looked familiar when he'd seen her near the river.

"Exactly. What of my Lord... What a strange question, young Malfoy," she smiled and Draco's heart skipped a beat.

"What are you trying to do? Voldemort can not be resurrected. Please, just let me go..." he started to panic as she stepped closer and kneeled in front of him to look in his eyes. He wanted to gain time by talking to her, but it was so hard to stay calm.

"Everyone has become so brave, saying his name aloud. I thought that everything was lost with his death. I was never close enough to him, but that doesn't mean that I wasn't his loyal servant. When everyone thought he was dead, I gained a reward, a blessing. I know I'm not worthy, but I can hear him in my thoughts. I could feel it since the moment he gave me the Dark Mark. But it felt very... faint until he was destroyed. And now he speaks to me. He made me recollect the remains of his followers. You'd be surprised if you knew how many followers he still has. He speaks to them through me. He's here," she said and touched her head with her fingertips. Draco felt his hair stood on end. He was trembling now and the cold was hardly the main reason for it. "Our army needs... something encouraging. Harry Potter will be destroyed gradually and this world will feel vulnerable. Can you imagine it?"

"You're sick..." Draco whispered in shock. Strangely, she looked so sane and serious that he started to doubt if the Dark Lord, THE-ONE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED (not Voldemort to him anymore), had really been destroyed once and for all. No, the ugly bastard couldn't survive. Every piece of his soul was destroyed. But what if..?

"It's not that I'm in hurry, but let's finish with this," Medea said calmly, taking a wand out of her sleeve. Only then did he realise that he was really going to die. And his child, too. She wasn't joking or playing with him. He clung fast to the wall in terror.

"Please, don't... Don't kill me. I'm with child..." he begged weakly, trying to move her to pity. She was a woman, how couldn't she understand his feelings? He wondered if she had her own children.

"Yes, I know," she nodded, pointing her wand at him. "I'm sorry." She passed her hand through his hair gently; the gesture that meant to soothe him, from her point of view. Unfortunately for Draco, there was no real compassion in her eyes. The will of her master was all that really mattered.

"Please, don't kill my child! Please..." he kept begging in a constraint voice, looking right into her eyes in front of him. "Not him..."

"I must follow the order and kill you," the woman said. "But there's no order about your baby. As far as I understand, he's developed enough to survive without you. Do you really want me to let him live?"

"Yes..." Draco whispered.

"If it is your last will, who am I to take it from you? Lie down," she said and moved away a little. He obeyed and lay down on his back. In shock he saw her taking the dagger out of the one of her knee-high boots with the silver buckles and he became numb with fear. The heart was slamming in his chest madly. Oddly carefully she unbuttoned his shirt up to the top buttons.

"What are you going to do to him?" he mouthed as his voice was suddenly gone.

"Why? Isn't it comforting enough for you to know that he'll live? Maybe I'll leave him near some orphanage, it's a classical decision, or... I could take care of him myself."

"Don't..." he whimpered hardly audible. Part of him was ready to do anything just to give his son a chance to survive; he was ready to do anything for him. The other part of him knew that his child wouldn't have any normal life. And why on Earth would he trust this woman (a Death Eater, a murderer)? He didn't want his son to come into this world to suffer. Draco was torn between those two options and couldn't decide what was worse. The only chance was the remote possibility that Harry would find the baby later, but was it possible at all? The woman was determined to make Harry's life a living hell, so she wouldn't let him have his son, and, most likely, she would use the child to give Harry a faint hope to find his son someday and then shatter that hope to drive him crazy, to destroy him. She would probably even wreak her hate upon the baby, because he was Harry's.

     Draco's thoughts became even more feverish and tangled when Medea brought a sharp blade to his belly, making him shake in a terrible anticipation.

"Don't writhe, if you don't want me to hurt him. Lie still," she warned. She was about to do it... She was actually about to cut him open and literally eviscerate him! For a few moments of realisation, he was so paralysed with fear that he could hardly breathe. 'This can't be happening to me... This isn't happening...' How would his son live without him, who was going to take care of him? Was his little one destined to become a slave to Death Eaters right from his 'birth'? Draco would be found by his loved ones like that - eviscerated... He wanted to beg for mercy again, promise to do anything, even if it was useless. But instead he could only emit quiet wails. He hated himself for his helplessness. He couldn't even speak! The only thing he ventured to do was looking in the eyes of his to-be murderer, feeling as if he was going to explode with sickening desperation. She looked back. There was no mockery on her face, it looked almost blank, but there was something special about it. And he realised what it was. Yes, he knew that look - the look of the one who enjoyed causing pain. It could only mean that she preferred not to let him die quickly. Draco still didn't know what was worse: let his son die with him, or let him live with the monsters. The dilemma was too cruel, too unfair. He started to give up, wishing it to end sooner. But, in the end, his instinct of self-preservation prevailed when he felt the cold and sharp steel against his skin. Overtaken by panic, he reached out his arm to the right of himself where he saw a stone. It wasn't big, but it felt heavy in his hand. Before Medea had a chance to react, he hit her temple with a stone, clenching it in his hand. The dagger slipped out of her hand and she pressed a palm to the wound, looking deafened and shocked. Inspired by his successful hysterical attempt, Draco leaned forward to hit the woman again. But this time, overcoming the pain and confusion, she pushed him back and grabbed the dagger again as he failed to forestall her. And yet, he sat up on his knees and there was a desperate bustle and struggle between them. She disarmed him of the stone and he knocked the wand out of her hand, failing to take possession of it. The wand rolled away and neither of them could reach out to take it. Draco almost overpowered her, grabbing her throat with one hand, but suddenly she managed to cut his forearm. Not immediately he realised that it was the reason of the burning sensation, and he let go of her throat, gasping. The look of his own blood discouraged him, made him falter, and since that moment he could only defend himself as the blade was pointed at him resolutely. It was lifted against him and he cried out just before it hit him and slashed his forearm again. He was covering himself with his arms instinctively, and his sleeves became soaked with blood very quickly. He never stopped screaming as the dagger cut and stabbed him again and again. He almost grabbed her hand once, to stop it, but she slapped him hard across the face with her other one, growling furiously. Draco's palms, wrists and forearms were burning in pain. Although his forearms were already bare, because only the scraps remained from the sleeves and they were hanging limp, dripping with blood, he didn't know how deep the wounds really were; but he could feel the hot streams of blood, running down to his elbows, dripping on his trousers and on the floor. He was covering himself as best as he could, even throwing his arms against the blade on purpose, just not to let his assailant injure his chest or belly. The woman was in rage, so, fortunately, she wasn't actually calculating her swift attacks. But still, she managed to cut his face. It was just a short cut across his jaw line, but it seemed deep. The wail escaped him. When Medea saw him subdued enough and heard him crying for mercy wordlessly, but loudly, she moved away quickly, seeing that he wouldn't be able to attack; however, he saw her moving to pick up her wand and tried to stop her. Their movements weren't accurate or smooth; on the contrary: Draco was injured and Medea still hadn't recovered from the hit in her head. She grabbed her wand and stood up quickly, but clumsily. Draco followed just as ungracefully and tried to catch her hands and disarm her again or even take a hold of her wand, if lucky. Regrettably, when he almost reached the woman and, perhaps, even had a good chance to succeed, something stopped him. He heard the clang of the chain and looked down; it was straightened, therefore it became visible. Draco raised his scared eyes at his tormentor. She was staring back with the triumphant sneer, looking almost crazy with her now slightly dishevelled hair and fogged eyes that clearly showed that she had, at least, the small concussion of the brain, caused by Draco's hit. She was swaying on her feet a little and Draco could hardly stand, too. Both were breathing hard and trembling. Without hesitating; ignoring (or, probably, even enjoying) the fear and the entreaty in the youth's eyes, Medea pressed the tip of the wand to his throat. He only had a time to reel back a little before she whispered:

"Crucio..."

     The whole Draco's world was torn apart by pain. The hell was back...
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