Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

A Spiders Web	By : twodollartrick Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2488 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-End
- 2-Green
- 3-Bruise
- 4-Learning
- 5-Solo
- 2
- 3
- 4
Life is a puzzle ... solve it

Life is a struggle ... fight it

Life is a journey ... complete it.

I felt constricted. Invisible ropes had bound themselves around me and I was finding it difficult to breathe as they cruelly squeezed more pressure onto my lungs. My arms were pinned to my sides helplessly and my legs were numb and deadweight. I was shivering although I was sweating, and I wanted to pull my bedcovers up to my chin and appreciate the warmth but I couldn�t.
It wasn�t the first time it happened. In fact, I can trace it happening back to almost a year ago. It wasn�t so bad then; I�d just wake up cold, though my pillows were often dampened with sweat, roll over to pull my covers back up over me, wince slightly and wonder why my joints were so fucking achy and eventually get back to sleep, warm but sweating like mad.
Now, I was forced to stare at the ceiling helplessly, unable to even turn my head and look at my bedcovers on the floor. I cursed my dreaming body for kicking them off automatically. Then I cursed my fucking body for picking up the fucking illness in the first place. It was leaving me helpless like a fucking invalid. Malfoy�s aren�t meant to be helpless. They are strong and powerful people. My grandfather�s father told my grandfather that, who told my father, who told me.
I suddenly froze. Shit. How would my family react to this? Me, a Malfoy, suffering from a muggle disease. The humiliation. The fucking humiliation. They�d sooner disown me then help me. Shit, I�d fucking disown me sooner than help me. It�d have to remain a secret, I couldn�t have anyone knowing. Malfoy�s do not associate with muggles and if we do, it is only to use them or torture them.
I must have lay there shivering for at least a couple of hours before soft morning light started appearing through my curtains. Birds were singing their chirpy cheery little songs, something that didn�t help my mood one bit. Stupid feathered fuckers. I�d send Lynx after them when I had the chance. My owl could tear the shit out of those weak little things. I couldn�t stand the fact that anyone or anything was getting on with their lives oblivious to the fact that I was slowly dying. I didn�t want anyone to know, but I wanted them to feel my pain, I wanted to be the one to make them feel my pain, I wanted to hurt the whole fucking world.
These bitter thoughts ran through my mind and with a surge of bold rebellion, I grit my teeth and pushed my body into a sitting position with my elbows. I shut my eyes and gasped audibly at the pain. My joints were hurting so fucking much. I took in some grateful gulps of air before preparing myself for the next challenge; swinging my legs out of bed. I almost cried out from the agony, but I bit my bottom lip hard and didn�t release the puffy flesh from my tooth�s grip until I felt a tiny river of blood seeping into my mouth from the cut.
I took in several more gasps of air before standing into a wobbly position. I stayed like that for a couple of minutes getting my wretched body used to the fact it was standing before walking slowly to the bathroom. It was worse in the mornings; by the time I had taken a bath and got ready for morning lessons, I�d be fine.
The trouble was however, I thought to myself as I hypnotically watched the bathtub fill up with soothing hot water, that I didn�t know how long I�d be fine for. I could have apparently been living with this fucking disease inside of me for up to ten years. That�s what that shitty pamphlet said. Although that might not be the case and it could have only just came, I didn�t know how much pain I could take. I wanted to talk to someone, no, I needed to talk to someone. Not anyone I knew, but someone that would listen to my problems and nod sympathetically in the right places. As much as I despise sympathy, I had to admit it would feel good right now. I considered speaking to that doctor again, but his grave voice and sorrowful eyes would only make me feel worse and more of a diseased freak. Strange as it sounded, the less I was reminded about having this thing in me, the better I felt.
It reminded me it was in me again when my elbow seized up in pain as I turned the tap off. For fuck�s sake, why did it have to be me? Of all the fucking people in the world, why did it have to be me? I didn�t do anything to deserve this. The worst of it was the fact that I was suffering from a muggle disease. I felt so fucking worthless; the lowest of the low. I shook the thoughts out of my head and stripped off from my pyjamas. Joints cracked discernibly from every part of my body that was moving but I only continued to take off the garments faster. It was a sufficient punishment for the fact that I was suffering in the first place.
I lowered a foot tentatively into the bath. It took a split second before I realized it was too hot and took it out again quickly, itching like mad from the boiling water. I caught sight of my reflection in the full mirror suddenly, and I turned and saw my full body double staring back at me. I admired myself. I was fucking hot and I knew it. I wasn�t built up like the bulky body frame of Crabbe or Goyle. True, I called them fat oafs but they had worked hard to turn their fat into bulging muscles over the last year. All the better to protect me with. But although I wasn�t built, I wasn�t skinny like Potter either. He was a fucking borderline anorexic with his skinny arms and legs. His eyes looked lost and sunken in his face.
Still, I had to admit I had lost weight. The doctor had asked me that before and I said I didn�t know. I had suffered - and still suffered - a loss of my previously healthy appetite, but I didn�t know if it had affected my weight. Upon measuring myself however, I observed that a couple of pounds had been lost. Still, what was a couple of pounds when I was the hottest guy in the school? I turned around and craned my neck to look at myself from behind. Nice ass. Yep, I was totally fuckable.
Which is why I was annoyed that I hadn�t actually done it yet. I�ve never admitted this in a million years. From the age of fourteen I regaled an open-mouthed Zabini in tales of my imaginary sexual conquests and took great delight in watching Pansy�s face fall each time I told it, adding more laborious touches to the fiction. But the truth was no such sex existed. As time went on, Zabini spoke of his conquests of spread-eagled sluts to me, and even Crabbe and Goyle started to bumbled on about their experiences. I could have got any girl in the school. Pansy had told me this once, over the breakfast table. She said it with a slight hint of poorly-concealed fear in her voice. I smirked and told her I already knew. I could have also gotten any guys in the school too. I wasn�t that unconfident in thinking that I may not have been able to turn any straight guys around for the chance to do it with me. Hell, I could snap my fingers and the most macho of guys would be on his knees begging me to thrust my dick in his mouth. But I, as ungallant as it sounded, was scared of what my father would say. Or do.
I put my foot delicately in the bath again before sinking it fully in, thankful for the accommodating heat. I did the same with my other foot before sliding my whole body in, letting it absorb the warmth. It felt so fucking good. The pain from my joints faded into nothingness and I closed my eyes in bliss and gave a sigh of relief. I had at least another hour to soak before I had to get ready for school. This was heaven. Opening one eye lazily, I took a look at the mirror again. My reflection was lost now though. The steam from the bath had fogged it up completely, leaving me to look at a hazy imitation of myself. I couldn�t see anything. I didn�t exist anymore.

FUCK.
I choked and spluttered on the water. I�d told myself I�d only shut my eyes to rest them and I�d ended up fucking falling back to sleep. It was lucky that I did fucking breathe that water in or I could have slept for longer. I barely registered the dulled pain as I clambered out of the bath. The water did my body good anyway, it always did, and I only felt a mere fraction of the agony I felt this morning.
I didn�t know what the time was, but I relaxed myself in the reassurance that I had double Potions first thing today and Snape wouldn�t blink twice over the fact that I was late. It was for this reason that I didn�t get ready any quicker and certainly didn�t rush myself over my appearance. And it was for this reason that when I did eventually make it down to Potions, with only twenty minutes of the lesson left, I later learnt, I was greeted with a furious Snape.
I actually thought he was joking at first and I grinned humorously. He was boiling with suppressed rage and my smile faded. He couldn�t possibly be taking this seriously?
�Mr. Malfoy,� he said, through slightly gritted teeth. �Would you be so kind as to explain to me and the rest of the class why you are late this morning?�
Several fuckers from other houses tittered as they watched �Snape�s favourite student� getting a taste of his sarcastic tongue.
�Well, er�� I started, the thought that he might be joking still in the back of my mind, before deciding to downplay the whole thing. �Actually,� I restarted again coolly, �I was late because I was doing my hair. You can never rush perfection you know.�
The audible gasp that rippled around the room alerted me that I might have gone too far. I considered apologising but Snape�s fury didn�t give me chance to. Thankfully, his anger wasn�t directed at me.
�Potter,� he barked, spinning on his heel and turning towards the golden boy, �Why is your potion green when it clearly states on the board that it should be purple?�
�I don�t know,� Potter mumbled stupidly, and I grinned at knowing what was going to come next. I even mouthed the words behind Snape�s back.
�Ten points from Gryffindor for your stupidity,� he spat predictably, and with a flick of his wand, the contents in front of Potter vanished, leaving him sitting there glaring insolently at Snape. I hadn�t expected him to add for your stupidity; he wasn�t normally that obvious about his bullying of golden boy. I must have gotten him really riled up. I caught Potter staring at me and I couldn�t resist sidling over to him and taking a shot.
�What a shame Potter,� I hissed when I reached his table, �another fail for your collection. Why the fuck you took Potions in your N.E.W.T year, I don�t know.�
�Just ignore him Harry,� Granger whispered next to him, �he�s just trying to goad you into doing something stupid.�
�Nobody asked your opinion you filthy fucking mudblood.� I put emphasis on the last word and gleefully noticed Potter�s shoulders stiffen.
�Harry, don�t,� said the mudblood in alarm, putting her hand on his shoulder to calm him down.
�Harry don�t,� I sang in a high mocking voice. �He won�t do shit anyway,� I said looking into his eyes. �He�s a coward. He can�t do anything but hide behind Dumbledore and that fucking scar.� It wasn�t working. Years of shit from me had caused him to take the high road and ignore my taunts. And that infuriated me. I wanted him to hurt, to at least let me see him flinch so I knew that I�d caused him pain. He was too together, too with it, while I was fucking falling to pieces, losing it all. I needed him to lose too.
�Got no answer? Didn�t think so, because you know it�s true. You hide behind that fucking scar because it�s the only thing you can cling onto. And your friends cling onto it as well. Weasel boy - wherever the fuck he is - is so poor that he needs your scar as his claim to fame, and this bitch here,� I gestured towards Granger, �thinks it�ll get her further in her life as well. You haven�t got any real friends Potter, and do you want to know why?�
He didn�t answer, didn�t even register my words. I had to crank it up a notch to get a reaction.
�They don�t want to fucking die. Because everyone you love dies don�t they? There was Sirius, your good-for-nothing law-breaking shit of a godfather.�
His shoulders stiffened again.
�There was Cedric, who died because you were so fucking noble and superior. I guess it was kind of your fault which makes you a murderer. Ironic, given who your godfather ... was.�
His fists clenched.
�And then of course, your parents,� I went on maliciously. I was vaguely aware that I might be going too far, but I felt like a completely different person that needed to get their rage out. The fact that Potter, my worst fucking enemy was sitting here, so ... healthy while I was dying fucking touched on all my nerves. He was going to win again. And so I went on with even more spitefulness. �Your parents died to save you when you were barely born. How must that feel? To know that you caused someone to die before you could even say a word? To know that they died while you went on living? That�s selfish, Potter. You�re an arrogant, selfish prick who deserves everything they fucking get. I hope the dark lord -�
I was pushed onto my back where the breath was knocked out of me. I barely had chance to catch my breath before Potter was on top of me, his face contorted into the definition of uncontrollable rage. His hands wrapped tightly around my throat. I looked groggily into his eyes and saw his teeth gritted into a snarl, spittle sliding down from his mouth. I could see the blurred figure of the mudblood standing over him, attempting to pull him away by his shoulders, and an even blurrier figure of Snape striding over ...

�Drakey, are you okay?� Pansy asked anxiously. Her pug-face was inches from mine and I turned my head and buried it into the pillow. I didn�t know how I got back into my room and I didn�t know why the fuck she was here.
�Go away,� I said in a muffled voice. �And don�t fucking call me Drakey.�
�Are you alright?� she asked again, seemingly oblivious to what I just said. She asked several more times, but I didn�t answer as the hazy events came back to me. I felt Harry�s grip being ripped away from my throat, and after that everything went black. He must have choked me too unconsciousness.
�Where the fuck were you?� I asked Pansy interrupting her constant bleating.
She stared and blinked at me stupidly. �What do you mean, Drake?�
�IT�S DRACO,� I snarled making her recoil in fear, �and I said, �where the fuck were you?� When I almost fucking died at the hands of Potter. And where were those two fat fuckers for that matter as well?�
She looked hurt and I was slightly gladdened. �We tried to stop him but by the time we realised what was going on, Snape had stopped it.�
�Oh shut the fuck up,� I said cutting her off, �I don�t want to hear your crap. Get out.�
�But Draco ��
�SHUT UP AND GET OUT.�
�Potter lost Gryffindor one hundred points,� she said hurriedly, trying to placate me. I couldn�t help but give a slight smirk as I imagined the crumpled faces of the Gryffindors. Pansy smirked too.
�GET THE FUCK OUT,� I roared, and she timidly scuttled off the bed. I listened to the echoing door slam and her footsteps fading into inaudibility before deciding that I hated the silence. I sat up and gingerly touched my neck. It hurt even when I touched it with the softest of touches. Sitting up still feeling slight woozy, I made my way over to the mirror. Shit, I fucking had menacing looking bruises around my throat. If I looked carefully I could make out slight handprint marks where he choked me.
I was bruising all over the place these days, come to think of it. The weirdest thing was there was no reason why I was so black and blue. I knocked my arm against the wall the other day. I didn�t even register any pain, that�s how slight it was, yet a large, ugly purple bruise appeared in the spot and was now only just beginning to disappear.
My eyes wandered from my reflection as I listened to the chimes in the distance. A lesson change. My timetable told me that my next lesson was Muggle Studies. There were two lessons in-between that and Potions. Fuck, I must have been knocked out for a while. And Pansy must have been sitting with me the whole time, I thought grimly.
I took one last look in the mirror. But instead of feeling hot, I felt like shit. I didn�t want to feel bad, but I fucking did. I quickly pushed both of my thumbs into the bruises on my throat. I howled from the pain but I increased the pressure.

Potter�s caused this, Potter did this, Potter�s hurting you, Potter gave you the pain.

I stopped and breathed heavily. Potter fucking hurt me again. He�d fucking won. Again.

I strolled bitterly down to muggle studies. I couldn�t stand this lesson. My father made me choose it though. He thought it would make him look less suspicious to the wizarding association for any cases of unforgiving curses being used on muggles. I couldn�t care less. Stupid fucking worthless creatures. They�d given me this disease. It was theirs. It was incurable from spells and I fucking hated them for giving it to me. I would love to annihilate them all and watch them suffer, to watch them writhe and squirm under crucacius.
I pushed open the door and didn�t bother hiding the fact that I didn�t care that Professor Pifflin was reprimanding me for being late. I even yawned in his face - that had deducted five points from Slytherin for insolence. I saw the fucking mudblood smirking at me from her seat. I�d forgotten she was in this class. I don�t know why she was smirking when Gryffindor�s beloved golden boy had lost them a hundred and ten points in one day.
When Pifflin had finished his lecture, I sat down heavily in my seat and took a look at the parchment that magically appeared in front of me. My heart froze and I felt slightly sick as I read the bold title at the top. I kept re-reading it over and over, as if it would suddenly change into other words if I really wished it hard enough, but no such luck. The words were staying the same.
And they told me that this term, we would be studying muggle medicines and illness.
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A Spiders Web