Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45316 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-Ch8
- 9-Ch9
- 10-Ch10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-Ch19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-Ch22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-CH25
- 26-CH26
- 27-CH27
- 28-CH28
- 29-CH29
- 30-CH30
- 31-CH31
- 32-CH32
- 33-CH33
- 34-CH34
- 35-CH35
- 36-CH36
- 37-CH37
- 38-CH38
- 39-CH39
- 40-CH40
- 41-Ch41
- 42-Ch42
- 43-Ch43
- 44-Ch44
- 45-Ch45
- 46-Ch46
- 47-Ch47
- 48-Ch48
- 49-Ch49
- 50-Ch50 *End Part 1*
- 51-Ch51
- 52-Ch52
- 53-Ch53
- 54-Ch54
- 55-Ch55
- 56-CH56
- 57-CH57
- 58-CH58
- 59-CH59
- 60-CH60
- 61-CH61
- 62-CH62
- 63-CH63
- 64-CH64
- 65-CH65
- 66-CH66
- 67-CH67 *New 6/6/2015*
- 68-CH68
- 69-CH69
- 2
- 3
- 4
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

CH3

“No you little bugger, not that way!” Panicking, Draco shot after the snitch he had released, following it down the darkened staircase that lead to the disgusting bowels of the mansion the Dark Lord now called home.
Alright, it hadn’t been his most brilliant idea to let it loose but he had been bored. It was so bloody boring here! Not to mention creepy… which he did his best not to mention but unfortunately not thinking about it did not stop it from being so. The whole place was boring and creepy and sometimes he could hear faint screams and gods he didn’t want to go any further. But he couldn’t loose sight of the snitch, it meant too much to him. Damn his sentimental heart. It was a weakness, father had been right… but he wasn’t turning back now.
He stepped through the doorway that opened up into a long corridor where far ahead the snitch flashed gold in the dull torchlight. He had only been down here a few times, most of those times accompanied by his father’s protective presence. His father would be returning today, finally. He didn’t think about Azkaban or dementors or just how angry Voldemort was with his father this time. So he was left flinching at shadows that didn’t move with the torchlights and noises that he knew did not originate from his own uneven breathing and hesitant footsteps.
Halfway down the never-ending hallway of doom he was actually hoping to see signs of life besides his own. The mansion had been deserted when he had arrived, everyone must have been out for business… or some other horribleness. The place was rather (not creepy) really empty and it was getting to him. Strike that. He had just remembered his last run in the previous week with McNair and his bloody hands clawing at his beautiful hair and was in no hurry to repeat it. At least that half living thing was away at the moment. He had not appreciated Voldemorts new interest in him one bit. The fact that he was allowed to roam the castle at will unlike the other Death Eater children had been a freedom he had not used too often. Nor had he touched the expensive gifts of mead and miscellaneous powerful dark objects. The gods only knew what monstrous expression of affection would find its way to Malfoy Manor for his birthday tomorrow… but Draco wasn’t thinking about that either.
Scary life defining birthday, Voldemort plotting against father who may be permanently scarred from Azkaban, and creepiness of empty mansion were not to be thought of today. He had to catch the snitch and hurry back to the sitting room to surprise his father so— that bloody wall was staring at him!
“What the hell are you looking at?” He snarled stomping past the shadowed wall were a pair of red eyes followed his movements. Gods be damned what a bloody, fucking, creepy, freaky, creepycreepycreepy place! He hurried down the hall (not running) and slipped around the corner.
He stopped short and bit back a smile. The snitch he had lost track of had taken to zipping around a dragon gargoyle guarding a large, well-warded door. The living statue snapped half-heartedly at the winged ball that continued to weave in and out of its reach. Draco gasped as the dragon gave a sudden lurch, jaws just missing the golden ball. “Get away from there immediately.” He scolded the snitch. To his surprise it complied and shot down the hall and off to another side corridor. Maybe he should have called it to him instead but something told him that would have been too easy for such a special snitch.
He trailed swiftly behind, careful to keep out of reach of the languid gargoyle. After another corner he found the snitch hovering by a door left slightly ajar as if contemplating whether to enter or not. With all his seeker reflexes, he quickly crept down the hall and pounced on the feathery fiend. A muttered curse later he fell against the door and tumbled into the dark room.
This was so much easier on a broom.
Dusting himself off, he looked around the shadowed room for sign of his elusive prey. A whirring of wings brought his attention to a long, thin crack of light shining weakly from a near invisible door. The snitch forgotten, he picked his way around the dusty furniture to press lightly against the outlined panel. It gave way slightly, opening to reveal a narrow crawlspace where another panel was outlined at the opposite side.
Well… given the location it must lead to the room the gargoyle was guarding. Since the statue had been so calm it probably hadn’t been disturbed in ages or there was nothing important there anymore.
Still... the lights were on.
Always the curious, he pushed the panel fully opened and eyed the passageway critically. He thoroughly searched the space before entering, doing his best to ignore the cobwebs and dust that his robes accumulated as he crawled to the panel where light spilled forth. He was surprised to hear low voices coming from the other side of the wall. Gods help him if Voldemort was there... Cautiously pressing his face against the cool stone, he stared with growing trepidation at the scene the crack of light revealed.
“Don’t just stand there! Who’s supposed to be guarding the towers right now? I want guards in every hallway and an extra group at the dungeon entryways. No one gets in or out without my knowledge, not even that sniveling Wormtail.” A large group of Death Eaters was milling about with an air of excitement and triumph radiating from the cloaked forms. To the right he recognized the dark matted hair of Bellatrix Lestrange shouting out orders while chaining a very bloody someone to the sidewall. The group must have just returned from a mission, or slaughter more likely. They seemed too happy, and when Death Eaters were happy someone was suffering.
A cruel chuckle broke from one of the masked figures. “Our Lord will be most pleased.” Draco glared heatedly at the bastard. Bloody Macnair, ever the ass licker. When father came home he was going to tell him of the trauma, trauma damn it, that bastard had put him through.
“More than that. Now that the boy is captured, his immortality is most assured.” Nott’s familiar voice added.
Gods they were idiots. Thankfully Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. Lucius had warned him about the Dark Lord’s Legilimency abilities. This year he had planned to teach Draco Occlumency so he could defend himself but the whole Ministry fiasco had changed everything. Voldemort had failed once again and had left Draco’s father behind as punishment. It had the result of reminding them all just what type of leader the Dark Lord was; the kind that could never be trusted, no matter what treasures he tempted with.
His thoughts were interrupted when the group fell silent and parted for Bellatrix, the only one with the guts to hunt without the trademark mask. She had walked away from the dark corner revealing the unconscious creature hanging dejectedly from thick, rusted shackles. The small boy seemed even smaller in the huge shirt he was practically swimming in. His limbs were disturbingly thin, almost skeleton like, and one of his arms was twisted at an odd angle at the crook of his elbow where a ratted sling hung uselessly. Hell, what was so important about this slight of a child? The muggle couldn’t be older than twelve! He couldn’t even hold up his head of tangled hair never mind give a full-grown wizard a good fight. Yet almost the entire inner circle was here boasting as if they had just accomplished the impossible.
“Quickly now. I want everything prepared for when our Lord returns from retrieving his dog Lucius.” Bellatrix hissed, carefully placing a wand on the large wooden table in the center of the room. “You two take care of the wards. No one gets in or out until our Lord sees the boy!” With a final cruel smirk at the shackled boy, she exited. The Death Eaters swiftly filed out behind the unbalanced witch who had gained Voldemort’s favor.
Draco started, wide eyes bright with shock. Not even registering the dig at his father, his full attention was caught by the wand lying innocently on the table. He knew that wand. It had been pointed menacingly at his heart more times than he liked to remember. He could literally taste the magical signature of one Harry James Potter emanating from it.
Fuck... this wasn’t happening.
A wave of panic hit Draco hard, fisting his insides unbearably until his breath was lost in ice for countless moments.
This wasn’t happening.
He sat there unfocused and befuddled until pain from where his nails had been digging into his hand finally snapped him back. He forced himself to calm and to observe the boy more critically. Although the luster was gone, the messy hair could easily be Potter’s. His eyes narrowed in search of the telltale scar but the thick fringe was obscuring his view. There was no sign of the crooked circular frames that usually marred Potter’s features but those could have been lost in the capture. Potter had always been on the short side and rather thin... but never this thin. This was the result of weeks without food, not one day of tousling with Death Eaters. What could have happened from the end of the school year till now to turn him into this broken being?
He looked… tortured.
A cloak blocked Draco’s view as one of the Death Eaters approached the shackled boy. He wasn’t able to catch the low words but the tone they were spoken in chilled him to the core. There was a sadistic, sensual undertone that had no right being there. A shift and he could see how the figure grabbed a handful of the dark hair and viciously tugged upwards. Draco growled softly, willing the sick fuck to leave Potter alone, and there was no doubt it was Potter. The startling green eyes that blinked in confusion could belong to no other mortal.
A sharp order barked from outside the door finally pulled the man away. He reluctantly removed the brutal hold he had on the boy’s face, leaving fresh bruises to blossom on the pale skin and a slow trickle of blood leaking from battered lips.
Draco saw red, gripping the wall to keep from bursting out of the passage and hexing the retreating form into oblivion. How dare he, that common lowlife scum! Potter had more pure blood in his little finger than that reject had in his whole blood line and he dared to touch him in such a manner! Sure, to be reasonable a couple of bruises was nothing compared to what Snakehead would do to Potter, yet when he saw that bastard lift his mask so he could... Draco shuddered in disgust. Honestly, what the hell was wrong with people!
Muttering to himself, he pressed the panel forward and stepped into the heavily warded room that was now finally devoid of Death Eaters. No doubt the gargoyle guardian outside the door was now on full alert and as deadly as any true dragon. Draco quickly stalked over to the large table and reached for the wand but his hand froze centimeters away. Just what exactly was he planning to do... walk out the front door with an injured Potter in tow and expect not to be cut down instantly? Not only would he die, Voldemort would most certainly have a far more grisly punishment planned for his family. Even worse than what his father had been enduring in Azkaban. Just the thought of what could befall his unborn sibling resting in his mother’s womb made Draco feel faint.
But... he couldn’t just let Potter die... could he?
At a loss, he turned to study the broken creature chained to the wall. It was difficult to imagine that the frail boy was to be the wizarding world’s savior. Hell, the idea was ludicrous... and yet, Voldemort was almost frantic in his wish to kill Potter. That had to stand for something. Draco searched the delicate features for some kind of sign. It would be easier, he mussed, if the dark lashes weren’t hiding Potter’s eyes from sight. No matter the pain or sorrow Potter had experienced throughout the past school years his eyes would always hold strength. They would glow defiantly with power as each circumstance grew worse, even when marred with unshed tears.
Draco sighed, tearing his gaze from the brutalized boy. He eyed the mostly bare table and let his fingers brush lightly atop the phoenix-cored wand. Power was strong in it, sending tendrils of warmth into his arm. He had always wondered what it would feel like. Something that reflected Potter so purely.
It had been unconscious at first, how he would seek out the bright eyes in the crowded hall at mealtimes or during a class they shared. Since his third year he didn’t even have to look anymore. The magical essence of Potter’s called to him through corridors and across the quidditch pitch and something that had nothing to do with magic called along with it… something that was clearly found in those green depths. Wasn’t that why he had continued to seek them out even when he no longer needed to? They had always been fighting about something, it was good to know where Potter was so he could deflect hexes and know where to send his own… of course Weasley was really the only one who he exchanged curses with, Potter would just kind of sit there, oblivious to the fights until someone got hurt. But Draco could always flash him that smug smile or sneer that pissed him off whenever Potter caught him staring. Pissing Potter off had become a very important task during his school years; it would be a shame to have to stop now.
So that was one for saving him. Stupid, trivial, but it seemed to mean more to him than all that other big stuff for some reason. The big stuff being Potter supposedly saving the world from evil and lets face it, the boy had a hell of a task ahead of him with very little chance for survival. Sure he showed potential with his tantrums of raw magic but he was just a kid and hardly that well versed in magic like the Dark Lord was. Luck could only take you so far, Potter needed knowledge to defeat an enemy like Voldemort… wait, was he actually considering he could win?
Fine, it’s true that Potter’s true potential was still unclear to him but he did know what his current worth was. It didn’t matter if Potter could win or not, so much as, everyone believed that he could. And yes, Potter had struggled against it, had tried to hide from the public and just be treated as normal but sometimes, sometimes, he would do amazing things like defeat a full-grown wizard possessed by Voldemort or destroy a huge basilisk with nothing but a sword and he never ran from it. He would keep pushing forward against any enemy, no matter how impossible it may seem, and so far he had lived. Justified or not, Harry Potter was able to take the weight of expectations from the entire wizarding world and return hope in full and that was something. That was something big.
Would all be lost with the death of this messy haired, ferocious eyed teen?
Was it worth risking one’s own life to preserve?
Could his family ever forgive him?
Draco walked over to the echo of the boy he remembered, calling out softly. He frowned as he stood before him. Blood was trickling down the pale lips, trailing to his sharp jaw like some sated vampire. “Potter,” he called again, but no response came. Hesitantly he reached forward and smoothed a gentle hand across Harry’s pale cheek. There was a stain of bruises littering the cheekbone that he couldn’t help but trace with his fingertips. His flesh was cold against Draco’s.
“Potter... what the hell are you doing?” Blood was splattering on the floor as Harry whispered furiously. It sounded like some sort of spell, which was stupid since he didn’t even have his wand.
Eyes still closed, a low growl finally answered. “I’m attempting to incinerate myself so your stupid ‘dark lord’ won’t be able to use my blood. Now, if you don’t mind, go find someone else to molest.”
Draco blinked. “Who the hell would want to molest you? Have you looked in a mirror? You’re a bloody twig with a bird’s nest for hair!”
“And yet, here you are, you fucking wanker!” Harry hissed, snapping his eyes open to glare up at the blonde.
“Don’t flatter yourself Potter. I’m not into the whole blood letting thing… or the shackles either for that matter.” Damn, Potter was shivering so badly he’d probably fall apart. The dungeon was beyond chill and the overlarge summer clothes really couldn’t be helping him much. Not with the little to zero body fat the boy had, plus the loss of blood. “You’re a freaking mess.” With a sigh he pulled out a pristine handkerchief from his robes and used it to dab at the blood on Harry’s chin. That perv had taken a good bite out of Potter’s lip. The bleeding had only just begun to slow.
“... Malfoy?” Harry whispered, looking so much like a lost child. “What... what are you doing here?”
He had to ignore the strange flutter, the confusing, almost painful pull that was coming from the gaze searing into him. Maybe trying to read Potter’s eyes had been a bad idea after all. Draco took a steadying breath and quirked a brow at the foolish question. “I think my presence here is as obvious as yours, Potter.” A tremor shook his hand for an instant but he blamed it on the frozen air and continued to clean the blood steadily as silence fell heavy between them.
Slowly he became aware of a strange buzzing tingle emanating from Harry. An odd power was flowing just below his skin. Had it always been there or was it something new? This was the first time Draco had really been close enough to notice. The last time they had touched… he frowned at the memory.
They had been fighting. It was a stupid thing really. Potter had been brooding about something as usual. If there were an award for brooding, Potter would win it hands down. He just seemed to have the perfect air for it, the stoop to his shoulders, the darkness hovering palpably around him as he ignored the world around him, lost in his thoughts. So, obviously, Draco had tripped him. But, instead of falling like a normal person, the git had flailed out and pulled him down with him. He could still remember being crushed against the hard floor, Potter’s heated body pinning him unyieldingly. And what had Potter done when he came to his senses? The idiot apologized.
Typical.
It had left Draco ranting for the rest of the day, stupid Gryffindork. There hadn’t been a buzzing that he could remember... then again, his heart had been beating so fast it would have been hard to tell…
Idiot.
Dismissing the memory he stared thoughtfully at the silent boy. Now that he had the chance he really didn’t know what to say to Potter. What was there to say? Their sides had been set on the day each was born and an understanding that came from that situation had dawned as they matured. There was no why anymore, just how long they could survive before the ideals they embodied were consumed by the masters of power that controlled them. Such was the life of powerful elements that were born without choice of identity. Not that Potter knew just how similar their lives really were. He doubted any had given a second thought to Draco’s true life. He had set out to make sure that no one would try to understand him from the very beginning. It was the only way to protect them. But Potter had always been reckless, hadn’t he?
Draco had thought that the boy may have chosen to ignore him again but he couldn’t bring himself to look up. He couldn’t meet those eyes again, not now. The fire was gone; he couldn’t see the hope anymore and it frightened him. Wait, frightened?
Apparently… how annoying.
Eventually Harry spoke up softly. “My hearing is kind of muddled… all these weird voices and maybe something that sounds like music… or is that you…? They’re a little quieter now though… I think they’re angry… or something…” He trailed off, lowering his gaze.
Draco stilled, his hand resting lightly on Harry’s neck. Had the git hit his head or something?
“I’m glad to see you, as weird as you might think that is.” Harry continued hurriedly, as if needing to say something but not quite sure what. “Even if you won’t say all the taunts you’re probably thinking... I always liked you when you were quiet.” He added with a tone of mischief, an echo of a smile curving his lips. “Of course, then you’d say something arrogant or cruel and ruin it... I guess that’s what I’m waiting for.”
Draco hmph’d, softly but his hand started to move reassuringly, wiping at the blood that only seemed to coat the pale skin more completely in red. He stared entranced at the patterns he made, anything to avoid the questioning gaze searing into him.
“It’s a lot like the time we first met in Madam Malkin’s,” Harry continued thoughtfully. “When I first saw you... I thought you were the most amazing thing ever. Your hair and skin, it was like you were born of light. Your eyes... they’re just too otherworldly to be human. I think that was what I thought in that first instant... You were lacking in the social skills though, a total git really.” He stopped, turning back towards Draco.
“Why are you…?” Harry didn’t finish the question. “Er, did they let you come in here to clean me up?” He tried again.
“You’re an idiot Potter.” Draco rested his forehead on the chilled one before him. “Who in their right mind would allow me to come chat with you? There would be nothing left for You-Know-Who… you’re bloody freezing you know. These clothes are hideous… and your shoes! All they are are holes; no shoes, just holes separated by some fabric. How can you go outside like this?”
“Oh.” Harry frowned down at his trainers. “So… you’re not supposed to be here?”
“Uh, well… lets not talk about that.” Draco swiped at the blood in hopes of distracting Potter from his questioning tangent. For some reason it seemed bad to have to tell him he was there trying to decide if he should save him or not… and if he said it… well there wouldn’t be a choice left anymore. “So… you left off with me being a git lacking in social skills.” Draco urged.
Harry left it at that, his eyes darkened in deep thought. “Yeah… you don’t seem so bad now. I mean, you’re a prat but you’d have to be on Voldemorts level to be smug at a time like this and I know you’re not at that point. You were never… well I never thought you were that bad. I’ve seen a lot of bad.”
“Do you have a point Potter?” Draco sighed. He’d hit him if he apologized. It didn’t matter how hurt he was, if this whole spiel was a round about apology for how they fought he was going to hit him.
“I don’t know.” Harry whispered. “We were just kids back then… I keep thinking back to the first day we met. I guess it’s weird but it makes sense to see you now. You were there on the day I was reborn into the wizarding world. I suppose you should be here once I finally die.” He finished, barely audible and staring blankly at the floor.
Draco’s breath caught, his hand wrenching the blood soaked handkerchief mindlessly. Just how the hell was he supposed to respond to that? He had to, he knew he had to, but so many emotions crashed in on him he couldn’t even speak. The worst, the worst was that Potter had given up. He hadn’t even asked him for help, just happy for Draco to be there to watch him die. It was traumatic on so many different levels, horrible and in a way beautiful, and it all hurt.
Snarling he pulled Harry’s face up, desperately trying to read his eyes; trying to understand what had broken the boy that couldn’t be broken.
Harry let him, smiling crookedly. “It’s nice to see your light again, even if it’s only for a short while. I’ve grown so dark. If I hadn’t escaped from him, I think I would have become just like Riddle eventually. I don’t have his delusions of grandeur but I’ve felt the pain that forged him all those years ago… the emptiness and loneliness… thrown away with the rest of the unwanted… I’m not strong enough to forgive them. My relatives, my friends, they’ve turned me into this… Dumbledore,” he hissed. “At least Voldemort didn’t hide behind false concern…” He sighed, his anger draining as quickly as it had come. All Draco could do was listen, breathless and lost in green.
“Maybe it’s all for the best if it ends here. I don’t want to fight the darkness in me anymore. I can’t see what’s wrong with it. He told me that I was light, I was good… but I’m not. I’ve never been light. I’ve always been the darkness as long as I can remember… the darkness inside a small dusty cupboard.” His eyes pleaded with Draco’s to understand. “I… I don’t think I’m bad but they will. They’re so quick to shun me whenever a true part of me breaks free. I’m tired of pretending for them, of being what they want me to be.”
The question fell from Draco’s lips before he could stop himself. “What are you then?”
Harry eyed him hopefully. “I… I’m not sure yet, I’ve only just begun to learn but… would you like to see? I think I can show you.”
Draco nodded mutely, anticipation welling in him. With that simple nod a wall between them shattered.
The buzzing he had felt from Harry flowed through Draco’s fingertips resting on his cool cheek and flooded into him. A sensation much like cool water washed through his veins, cleansing his very soul and… darkness. Darkness as pure and powerful as before time even existed enveloped him, holding him safe and secure. Impossible and yet, there was no other way to explain it. Darkness was washing over him. It was beautiful, enchanting and… so purely Harry it was almost intimidating. He could feel Harry as if he were within him but not as an invasion. More, like he was a part that Draco hadn’t realized he had been missing all these years until he had found it again.
Once Harry pulled away, letting the sensation of his essence linger, it was then Draco knew what he had seen in Potter’s eyes.
Hesitantly, Harry asked softly. “Does it frighten you? …Do I?”
Draco shook his head no, at a loss for words. How anyone could be frightened by something so amazing was incomprehensible.
“Perhaps… you liked it?” Harry continued, a small smile curving his lips. Swallowing thickly, Draco nodded.
“I thought you might. You were always so curious, staring at me so… no one’s ever looked at me quite the same way before…” Harry whispered, unconsciously leaning into the hand that was gently tracing his cheek still. “They burned me sometimes, when I stared back. Your eyes are power.” As if to prove the point, he closed his own eyes to break their locked gaze.
“I’ve never tried that before, to show anyone. Over the summer I discovered so much about myself, who and what I am… Kinda funny it ended up being you… but it sort of makes sense. I mean, it’s always been you, hasn’t it…” His eyes sought out Draco’s again. “So, it’s not too weird… It feels… right. And at least I got to show you. You may even remember what I feel like long after I’m dead.”
He didn’t know why, perhaps to stop the flow of strange, painful words or to complete the connection growing between them. For whatever reason, both tasks were accomplished when Draco bent down to brush a delicate kiss to Harry’s bruised lips. Gasping, Harry’s green eyes regarded him in surprise before slowly fluttering closed, his lips pressing back hesitantly.
It wasn’t so bad, the blood… the dirt… the addictive pressure of chapped lips sliding against his. His fingers curled, gently cupping the pale cheek with trembling hands. …He was trembling? Ever so softly, fearful of the possible reaction, Draco let his tongue lap the trail of drying blood, cleansing away the remnants of violence. The small moan Harry made was permission enough to press closer. His fingers were completely lost in the dark tangle of hair yet he pushed harder until the stone wall scraped at his knuckles, glorious heat building between them.
“Hell…” Harry breathed, his hands scrabbling uselessly at the chains above him as he tried to get closer. “Do that again.”
“Do what…?” Draco entwined their tongues again, sucking lightly.
“Uh huh…” The brunette trailed off blissfully.
It was so intense… tender and delicate because he couldn’t hurt him but gods, his blood was threatening to ignite within his veins if he continued… or if he stopped… or if Potter kept making that noise… The connection a simple kiss created was so powerful and unlike anything either had ever experienced that they became lost in each other; both unable and unwilling to break away until they had found some sort of semblance in the chaos they had created. They didn’t cease until shaken and breathless and even then they didn’t pull away. Instead they leaned heavily against each other and let their breath mingle and minds clear.
“Potter… what the hell just happened?” Draco panted, cheeks pink with excitement and slight embarrassment. Moments before he had been marveling on impossible power but this, this he couldn’t even wrap his mind around.
Harry searched his face thoughtfully before whispering. “No idea, Malfoy… It’s the best thing that’s happened to me all year though… maybe all my life…”
Stilling, Draco hesitantly met his gaze. “Is it supposed to be so… so intense?” He flushed again, realizing he had admitted something he hadn’t wanted too. “I mean, you know… I’ve never… with a guy…” He stuttered awkwardly. He hadn’t with a girl either for that matter. As a Malfoy he had been taught such things for future use but it only was to be used with the one he was contracted into marriage with. Potter did not, under any circumstances, need to know that ever.
“Er…” Harry flustered, finding Draco’s behaviour contagious. “The only person I ever kissed was… uh, well, it wasn’t anything like this. This was really… really…” Draco suddenly pressed forward, cutting off Harry’s words with his mouth… and tongue… and grasping hands that did not seem to appreciate Harry’s shirt one bit.
“Just shut up.” Draco groaned, pulling back slowly. “You’ve been talking weird the whole time.” Two now. My parents are going to kill me. I’ve lost my mind and I’m fucking up my chances at marriage and my parents are going to kill me if Voldemort doesn’t first… and why do I want to bloody do it again! He dropped his head on Harry’s shoulder, careful not to look at his mouth and slip again.
“Mmm, it’s because I’m dying. Won’t be much longer now.” Harry nuzzled his cheek to Draco’s, trying to calm the now tense form gripping his. “Something has been trying to grow in me this summer but it can’t survive like this. It’s too early but it’s trying to break free anyways. It makes me think differently… and talk kinda weird if I don’t pay attention.”
“You’re freaking me out Potter.” Draco frowned in concern, holding the green gaze. “Something is trying to break out of you? Did You-Know-Who curse you during the Ministry fight? Has he possessed you?” His voice sounded frantic even to him.
“No.” Harry smiled unconcernedly. “It’s just me, the real me. No one will ever know now… I’ll never really grow up…”
Draco just stared nonplussed. “Shit Potter… don’t…” He whispered wiping at the tears falling down Harry’s face. “Come on, let’s fix you up a bit.”
“Alright,” Whispered Harry, suddenly very tired. He leaned back against the stone wall, watching Draco through his fringe. “Will you kiss me again?” He asked shyly. Draco smoothed a gently hand across his forehead before brushing a winsome kiss to it. “Uh… that’s not exactly what I meant.” Harry sighed up at the blonde.
Draco smirked grimly. “I’ll give you as many as you want, but later.” Before Harry could point out that there really wasn’t much of a ‘later’ for him, Draco had pulled his wand from his robes and tapped it against the large shackles. Quickly catching Harry’s broken arm before it could fall, he carefully lowered and secured it in the makeshift sling.
“Er… what?” Harry queried, confusion adding to his pain induced shock.
“Just wait right here. I’ll be back in a moment.” Draco assured the disquieted boy.
I’ve lost it, bloody lost it!
Moving swiftly he reentered the hidden passageway and moved to the door that opened into the long hallway. He carefully crept down the corridor and peered around the corner. As he had feared the dragon gargoyle was wide awake, pacing the length of the large doorway and snapping at flickering shadows. Draco gulped and quickly skirted back the way he came, locking the door behind him.
Well that certainly complicated matters. There were wards all over the mansion to prevent people from apparating in and out with the only exception being the entrance hall where wizards were allowed to apparate and floo from the building. Unfortunately, the entrance hall had extra protection and status wards to keep track of those coming and going. If he could get Potter all the way across the mansion undetected he would still have to cast some dampening spells to confuse the wards plus apparate them to a safe location… where ever that could be.
No place was safe from Voldemort anymore. This was a bad idea… absolutely insane.
With a sigh Draco pushed himself away from the door and made his way back to the passageway. Crawling in, he made sure the door was shut tightly behind him and that nothing had fallen. He was pleased that the final panel shut securely, blending seamlessly with the wall. Hopefully no one would realize it even existed.
Potter was still standing where he had left him, leaning heavily against the wall and eyes just as heavy locked on him. He really didn’t know what to do. He had come to the decision to help the boy but did he have ability? Potter could barely stand on his own, how was he going to secret him through the maze of corridors and stairways in the mansion? At his best he knew he could apparate them together but he would have to be casting some powerful magic beforehand that would tire him very quickly. There was no way Harry would be able to cast magic in his condition.
With a start, the whir of wings caught his attention and reminded him what had lured him into the dungeons in the first place. Looking around he spotted the snitch hovering by the opposite wall. Cursing, he clamored after the elusive ball, his haste making him clumsy.
Shooting him an unreadable look, Harry limped up beside him and threw his good arm out to easily catch the glittering snitch. He silently held it out in offering to Draco. He took it graciously, turned and grabbed Harry’s wand from the table and placed it firmly in its owners grasp in return.
Harry just stared at it, confusion evident. After a few moments of contemplative silence, he finally pieced it together. Noted, his poor physical state had been draining on his mental and emotional as well.
“Have you gone mad!” He yelped once he realized Draco was helping him escape.
“I suppose I have.” Draco replied flippantly, stepping forward to help Harry walk. The idea struck him instantly, clarity of absolute brilliance as bright as the golden ball trapped in his hand. All it would take was two high level spells and his emergency portkey. He once again thanked his father for his insistence that Draco always have a spare portkey with him.
Wide eyed, Harry stumbled back away from Draco. “They’ll know it was you.” He hissed anxiously. “They’ll catch you, they’ll KILL you! Voldemort can read minds, he’ll figure it out, he’ll KNOW!” He was breathing heavily, eyes looking about in panic.
“Get a hold of yourself Potter.” Draco growled out in exasperation. Fuck, he knew he was dead. The second he saw his rival chained to the wall he knew he’d end up throwing his life away. There was no point in dwelling on it now. Not until he had found a safe place to hide Potter would he let himself fall into a deep depression over his own stupidity, Gryffindor like recklessness, and weakness for glowing green eyes. Hopefully alcohol would be present at the time.
“Draco, please don’t do this.” Harry pleaded, cornered against the wall as Draco approached relentlessly.
“Gods Potter, just shut up and get over here so I can do this spell!”
“Please Draco, they’ll kill you.” Harry continued unhearing. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I’m not worth it. I’m half dead as it is. Just go without me!”
Fed up, Draco grabbed Harry’s arm in an attempt to pull him away from the wall where the wards were strongest. “Stop… being… so … difficult!” He growled at the struggling boy.
“No!” Harry sobbed. “Please, I don’t want anyone else to die because of me! First it was my parents and then Cedric,” he gasped, “Bertha Jorkins, Professor Quirrell, Barty Crouch, Sirius… fuck, Sirius! He’s- he’s dead because of me! They’re all dead!” He crumpled to the floor, gasping between sobs. “I can’t do this anymore… I can’t keep watching them die just because I exist… just, just let me die already… I can’t do this!”
Draco just stared down indecipherably at the hysterical boy. “So you want me to let you die?” He asked, jaw tight. “You want me to let You-Know-Who butcher you and destroy the world because you can’t handle a few people dying!” He pulled Harry to his feet and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Harry clung desperately to him, the last few years of pain pouring out of him.
“Well that’s too fucking bad, isn’t it? This isn’t just about you, this is the whole bloody world and they need you. Isn’t it obvious how much they need you if I’m willing to help? I’m the selfish one Potter, not you.” He whispered calmly into the boy’s hair. “There is more to this existence than you can possibly understand, but you can’t change this world unless you’re alive. The problems aren’t going to go away, the suffering won’t stop; you know that. You’re not in your normal state of mind right now… not to mention you’re bleeding all over me. Everything must look bad right now but I promise you, I’m going to see you through to the end.
“Now, you’re going to pull yourself together Potter, calm down, and we’re going to leave. Alive. We’re going to find a safe place for you. I’m sure Dumbledore is frantically searching for his Golden Boy as I speak…” He gave the bowed head a searching stare. “Alright?”
Draco waited until Harry nodded meekly into his shoulder. His sobs had stopped but he could feel the tremors still shaking the boy. Gods, why was everything suddenly so complicated? What happened to simple rivalries and worrying about grades or allowances? Why couldn’t life be like that forever? He sighed, tightening his grip around Harry.
“Listen, just stay still and don’t say anything. I need to concentrate on this spell.” Harry nodded again, turning watery eyes up at Draco. Deep within a familiar fire had come back to life. “If you die Malfoy, if you leave me to face this all alone again… I’ll never forgive you. You’ll pay in the other life, I’ll make sure of it.”
A small, sad little smile broke on Draco’s face. “Yeah, OK, fair enough Potter.”
Closing his eyes Draco summoned up the power he would need to complete the two spells he needed. One was to mask the status wards in the dungeon that would immediately alert the whole mansion if someone were to portkey out. It was a difficult spell, simple in nature but it required a lot of energy since the wards he was fighting had strong magic in them. The second would cover the magical trail that could be used to trace the portkey’s destination point and occupants. The complexity of this spell would require all of his concentration. He needed to be aware of Potter, himself, and the room while he used the magic to intricately weave their presence out of the space. Or actually, into the space, camouflaged as the energies around them and impossible to detect. Luckily the spell had a strong verbal basis that would help him focus.
Both spells were essential to ensuring they survived more than five minutes after escaping.
He was surprised that when he faltered during the first spell, his power fluctuating for a moment, Potter was there to steady him. Harry had no magic to offer but his presence had washed into Draco and a vibrant calm had settled over him, energizing and focusing him all at once. Whatever Potter was growing up to be, it was most certainly beyond the normal realm of wizardry.
With Harry’s help the spell work went flawlessly from that point on. Satisfied with the protection, Draco pulled up a long chain from around his neck where a silver dragon pendant hung brilliantly in the torchlight. It had been an heirloom from his Grandmother, a special type of portkey enchanted with a very rare spell that allowed the thoughts of the user to choose the location most needed or wanted. Unlike other portkeys, the spell remained intact once used, needing only a recharge of magical energy to reactivate it for later use. It was one of Draco’s most prized possessions and he guarded it fiercely.
He met Harry’s eyes, any last second doubts lost. “You ready?”
“This is rather un-Malfoyish of you, you know... saving me. Your parents are going to hate you for this. It’s a really stupid idea, Malfoy.” Harry groaned, waging an internal battle of whether or not to allow Draco to throw his whole life away.
“I know Potter, but I don’t have much of a choice. My parents will forgive me... if they live long enough to. There are some things that are worth more.” He trailed off thoughtfully.
“Alright then, Potter.” He started, a grim smile in place. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Together they grasped the portkey and with a whispered activation-word from Draco, they disappeared.
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Awakening To the Dream