Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Ragnarok	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11311 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Ragnarok
- 2-Strike
- 3-Assault
- 4-Counterstrike
- 5-Backblow
- 6-Clash
- 7-Collision
- 8-Blast
- 9-Jab
- 10-Rush
- 11-Unite
- 12-And Conquer
- 2
- 3
- 4
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Three�Assault

�� Mr.
Malfoy, can I speak with you for a moment?�

�� Draco
turned around, careful to keep a smile on his face. It wasn�t everyone who
could have done that, he knew. They had just sat through a long Wizengamot
session involving three trials and the discussion of two new laws. Draco had
listened to everyone involved, made his judgments, and spoken his piece when
required to do so. It would seem presumptuous if the newest and youngest member
spoke too much, he knew. Besides, he still needed a feeling for the rhythm of
the Wizengamot and the way they made decisions. He didn�t want to brand himself
a maverick at the beginning. He wanted to slowly accumulate power.

�� And he�d
kept the possibility of doing so through Potter strictly in the back of his
mind. It would only be a distraction from the job that, as far as anyone on the
Wizengamot knew, was the highest pinnacle he could aspire to.

�� Of course,
Madam Gilfleur,� he murmured, and drew her over to a corner of the room
diagonal to where the others congregated. This was the retreat room, filled
with tables of drinks and food, where the Wizengamot could go between or after
sessions to refresh themselves. Draco thought that only a fool would touch the
alcohol in this kind of atmosphere, but then again, the Wizengamot was supposed
to represent the British wizarding world. It wouldn�t be complete without the
contingent of fools, Draco thought tolerantly. �What was it that you wanted to
say?�

�� I have
been watching your face this morning.� Gilfleur took a sip of her water for a
moment before she went on. Draco watched Kellerston, the member who didn�t like
him, shoot him a single hostile glance before turning to converse with a woman
who had short dark hair and an intense face. Draco didn�t know who she was yet,
and couldn�t ask so openly, but remembering her features was a good start. �I
have been impressed by the intelligence and wisdom you have shown so far.�

�� Draco took
his time turning around. He wasn�t threatened by Madam Gilfleur, if that was
what she wanted him to feel. He knew that his control of his expression had
been perfect. �So soon?� he murmured. �But I have said little.�

�� Gilfleur
smiled and left it up to him to deduce how and by what mysterious methods she�d
got her knowledge. �Intelligence and wisdom can come as easily through pauses
and silence as through words.�

�� Draco only
nodded to confirm his agreement and then waited politely for her to get to the
point.

�� Gilfleur
sighed and laid her hand on his arm. �You need not be so wary,� she said
softly. �I am on your side. Unlike certain others.�

�� Draco
didn�t let his eyes dart around the room. He knew he had enemies here. The
point hadn�t been to come into the Wizengamot with no enemies, but to know who
they were and how to combat them. �What do you need an intelligent and wise�and
new�Wizengamot member for, Madam Gilfleur?�

�� She watched
him with a smile, then murmured, �This is more evidence of the qualities I
require. How closely were you following the debate over the robes law?�

�� Quite closely, Draco could have said. He
thought the law that would require a certain style of robes, and only those robes, for certain Ministry
jobs was doomed to failure. Most of the Ministry workers already wore their
regulation robes most of the time; certainly the Aurors did, and the other
offices didn�t need the public to identify them as clearly or quickly.

But Gilfleur seemed to be looking
for a specific statement, and Draco didn�t know that this one would fit her
agenda. So he nodded and said, �I confess that the purpose of the law bewilders
me, and its language is labyrinthine.�

�Labyrinthine,� Gilfleur said,
giving him a grateful smile. �The adjective I was looking for without knowing
it. Yes, I think all of us would benefit from simpler language in the law,
don�t you?�

Either
she has someone she wants to do a favor for with this simpler language, or she
wants to disoblige whatever Wizengamot member introduced the law in the first
place, Draco thought, while he kept an innocent face. �Perhaps we would,
Madam.�

�� I will
count on you to suggest a few alternatives,� Gilfleur said, and squeezed his
arm. The gentle, warm pressure of her fingers had certainly made men do what
she wanted before now, Draco thought, allowing himself to take one breath of
her perfume. �Perhaps you could owl them to me in the next day?�

�� Draco bowed
without committing himself one way or the other. He would have to find out who
had proposed the law and make sure that it was someone he wouldn�t mind
crossing, in case it turned out Gilfleur wanted to use him as a pawn in her
private feud.

�� Excellent,�
Gilfleur said, smiling as if he had given her a promise, and then swirled away
into the crowd. Draco leaned against the wall and watched her go thoughtfully.
Most of the other Wizengamot members smiled and nodded to her, he noticed, but
she stopped and spoke to none of them. That might indicate she considered
herself above them.

�� Or it might
simply indicate that most of them were on good terms with her, but knew better
than to get involved in her crusades.

�� Draco
smiled. He could feel the possibilities clicking and shifting in his mind, and
he enjoyed the intricate dance for its own sake. The most petty maneuver could
turn out to have connections to higher affairs, or consequences that would
ensnare one in a web of enemies and promises.

�� He would
have to work on this problem and solve it in such a way that he not only
climbed out of the thorny nest but ended up on top.

�� Of course,
that would have to wait for later in the evening. He had an appointment to meet
Potter at the end of the afternoon.

*

�� Harry
shifted and looked carefully around him, then grimaced and tried to wrap his
magic more tightly around him. It wasn�t impossible that wards on the
Wizengamot headquarters could detect his magic from this far away. He wouldn�t
be able to use it, either, because he knew
there were wards that would detect that. And using it was often the only
way to ease the way that it built up, gnawing on his bones, eating them,
reducing them to powder slowly�

�� Harry shut
his eyes and refused the self-pity that he could feel creeping up on him. It
wasn�t as if this was a new emotion, when his body had suffered the destruction
of the magic for the last ten years.

�� Yes, but I�m closer to the end now.

�� Yes, but this is also the point at which I
may have the most hope, if Malfoy can actually deliver the miracles that he
hints he can.

�� Harry paced
back and forth in the flat, barren meadow that he had invited Malfoy to. It was
the place where he had killed a man who was trying to become the next Voldemort
a few years ago, and no wizards or Muggles lived nearby. There was a desolate
feeling to the site, though Harry knew for certain he had only targeted the man
and not any animals or other people who might have been around. There was always the same desolate feeling to
places where he used his magic, as if the earth and sky resented the fact that
he had annihilated one of their children.

�� He�d tried
to resist those feelings at first, but they would keep coming back and he
couldn�t get rid of them. He had decided, in the end, that he was going mad
enough without having to test his every thought, and had allowed his mind to
keep its delusions.

�� A sharp
crack had him spinning around, but it was only Malfoy Apparating in. Harry
nodded back to him and walked forwards, studying him more closely than he had
when Risidell brought Malfoy by to introduce him. After all, then he had only
been another of Harry�s masters. Now he was�

�� Harry had
no idea, and once again, he refused to put up with hope until it had shown
itself to have a solid basis.

�� Malfoy had
changed out of the Wizengamot costume and wore simple, dark grey robes. Harry
wondered for a moment if the color was meant to reflect his moral allegiance,
and then snorted to himself. He would be highly surprised if Malfoy had a moral allegiance.

�� Potter.�
Malfoy nodded to him and then turned and studied the edges of the field as if
he were looking for traces of magic. �Your work?�

�� Harry
curled his lip. Malfoy could sound less condescending about that, he decided.
It wasn�t as though Harry had lied about the nature of his magic or what the
Wizengamot kept him for. �Yes,� he said. �A rising Dark Lord.� He drew out the
book that he carried from his pocket. It was the one luxury the Wizengamot let
him have a lot of, books, since they knew that he couldn�t perform most of the
spells in them. �I�ve located the ritual that I want to use to reduce my
power.�

�� Malfoy
turned swiftly back to him, and for some reason, there was a pleased expression
on his face. �Reduce? Not get rid of?�

�� I
misspoke,� Harry said, cursing himself. He would have to be careful of his
every word around Malfoy, the same way he was around every other Wizengamot
member, if for different reasons. �I do mean get rid of.� He let the book fall
open to the page he had stared at for months and years, trying to dream himself
into a reality where he would have a partner who could help him perform this.
�Now. What I don�t really know is what the names of some of these components
mean. I hoped you could help me.�

�� Admitting
incapacity, Potter?� Malfoy stepped up behind him. Harry�s chest clenched
painfully, but that was paranoia, due to the fact that most of the people he
met outside the Wizengamot�s headquarters were trying to kill him. He blew out some
of the compressed breath through sheer determination and then traced a finger
down the lines of the ritual until he reached the first mysterious reference.

�� Yes, for
everything except reducing people and artifacts to their primary elements.
What�s hyssop? The author doesn�t explain, but seems to assume that anyone performing
the ritual would already know.�

�� Let me
see.�

�� Malfoy took
the book from him, and Harry reluctantly let it go. If the Wizengamot knew what
he wanted to do with this ritual, he would never get it back. They desired to
use him and his magic until the last moments, when they would trust in their
wards to protect them from his death throes.

�� Harry
himself didn�t trust the wards, which was why he wanted to go away to an
abandoned patch of country. But that was assuming he would know he was dying in
time to act. If he didn�t, then he would probably just die in his locked room
and bring the Wizengamot headquarters down with him, and no one would know the
truth of what had happened.

�� A surge of
intense loneliness swept across him, and he swallowed. He would have given
anything at the moment to see Ron or Hermione again. They had been only words on
paper to him for so long.

�� I think I
know.�

�� Harry had
to pull his mind back from a long distance to focus on what Malfoy was saying,
and then he had to try harder to turn around and look interested. �Do you?� he
asked. �What is it, then?�

�� Malfoy looked
up at him from the book, and Harry twitched a bit. Malfoy�s eyes were so
intense, as if he had looked into Harry�s soul and seen the shades of light and
darkness there, as well as counted them. He reached out a hand, and Harry
stared at it for what felt like a long, dreamy moment before realizing what
Malfoy wanted and taking the book from him.

�� Malfoy
tightened his lips, as if that wasn�t what he wanted after all, but said
primly, �Hyssop is a type of mint, strong-smelling, and used in a lot of basic
potions and dishes. But you were right to be cautious. There are several
different kinds, and we�ll have to look at the correspondences between various
components in the ritual to discover the right kind to use.�

�� Harry
stared at him. Malfoy twisted his head to the side and asked, �What is it?�

�� Harry shook
his head. If he told Malfoy that this was the first time someone had told him
he was right in years�in person, that is, rather than agreeing with one of the
lies in his �Australian� letters�then Malfoy would simply think he was pathetic
to be so stunned by it. �I didn�t know it would take that long,� he admitted.
�Or I knew, but hoped it wouldn�t. I want this magic out of my body.�

�� Malfoy made
a complicated noise deep in his throat, and then asked, �Can I see a
demonstration?�

�� Harry laid
the book aside. �Of my magic?� he asked indifferently. He should have known
Malfoy would want this. Most of the new Wizengamot members did when first
learning about him, and they would be eager until they saw it happen. Then they
would be horrified and edge away from him. None of them ever watched the
executions or exterminations that he performed on their behalf. I might as well take Malfoy through the same
initiation as all the others. I only hope that he won�t be horrified enough to
abandon me in turn.

�� Malfoy
nodded. His eyes were enormous and had an odd, liquid sheen to them, as if he
were about to cry. Harry paused, curious, then decided that was none of his
business. They were allies, not friends.

�� He looked
around the field, searching for a target. His magic began to race inside him
like a second heartbeat at the prospect of being used, and he gasped. �Raise
the strongest wards you know,� he whispered urgently. �Otherwise, the
Wizengamot will sense that I�m using my magic outside their quarters without
permission, and that could be hard to explain.�

�� I can feel
your power,� Malfoy said in a dazed fashion. Harry hoped he wasn�t one of those
rare people who simply fainted in the presence of overwhelming amounts of
magic. �Why don�t you raise the wards yourself?�

�� I told
you,� Harry said, already reconsidering Malfoy�s potential as an ally if he
couldn�t keep something simple like this in his head. �I can�t do anything
except destroy. That includes raising wards. They�re a creative effort. I can
destroy them again once I�m done, if you want, but not make them.�

�� He had to
speak against the tightness in his throat and groin, the coil of poisoned magic
like honey in his blood. And he had to pick a target soon. He, Malfoy, and the
book were all essential, so Harry focused on the slight hill that the ground
formed not far away. The magic changed direction and surrounded his vision with
tangles and hooks of black and red, and Harry clenched his fists. The power would
come out soon whether he wanted it to or not.

*

�� Draco had
heard Potter say that. Of course he had. But he hadn�t absorbed the full
implications until now.

�� He could be defenseless to stop his enemies
from imprisoning him if he ever hesitated about destroying them.

�� Of course,
he could destroy the wards to get free again, but he could do nothing else. Draco was beginning to
appreciate how this could be a more serious limitation than he had thought it
would be, even though his mouth was still dry and his cock swollen with the
approaching storm of Potter�s power.

�� He raised
the wards, and added another layer on top of that, and then tapped into his
enhanced power. The wards grew and entwined with one another like the canopy of
a forest. Draco smiled. No one in the Wizengamot, strong wizard or not, was
going to feel Potter through that.
Draco knew he was stronger than any of them, and that, combined with his
cleverness, made it impossible for anyone to combat him with spells that he
thoroughly knew and understood.

�� Draco
turned back just as Potter lifted one hand towards the small hill he had
Apparated in front of.

�� The hill
tore itself apart as though something had exploded inside it. The dirt rose
into the air, and became smaller and smaller, diminishing to flecks and then to
nothing. The roaring boom of the
explosion became nothing but tiny waves of sound, almost visibly becoming less
as Draco watched; even the echoes devoured themselves. The grass was gone, vanishing
in midflight. The earth lay flat where the hill had been, and if someone had
asked Draco whether it was naturally so or whether it had once risen, he would
have said that of course it was naturally so. The hill had ceased to exist.

�� That was
what happened in the world around Draco, visibly.

�� The clash of
magic was deafening, the pressure in his ears strong enough to send Draco to
his knees. His wards wavered, nearly caught in the backblast, but Potter had
enough control over his magic to ensure that he destroyed only what he intended
to destroy. Draco found himself gasping, overcome by fear�

�� And desire.

�� His magic
leaped up to welcome Potter�s. His veins became super-charged with lightning.
Draco laughed aloud, and, as Potter turned a stunned face towards him,
staggered up and then bent at the waist again. It was hard to walk beneath the
combined weight of the magic hanging in the clouds and his own painful
erection.

�� Potter came
slowly towards him, his face so furrowed that he looked much older than he was.
Then again, Draco thought, gazing up at him, there were flecks of white at his
temples, looking as though he had been caught in a snowfall. Perhaps the magic
was simply aging his body in the way he had claimed it was. �Are you all right,
Malfoy?�

�� Draco
reached out and laid his hands on Potter�s arms. That meant he was touching
cloth instead of skin, since Potter wore a shirt with long sleeves, but it
didn�t matter. Draco could still feel the power beaming up at him as if he
stood holding the sun. He closed his eyes and murmured, �Stay still for a
minute. That�s all I ask.�

�� Potter
stood still for what felt like a timeless time to Draco, but was probably
shorter than that. Draco floated, calm and drunk, in the maze of Potter�s
power, a golden place with reflecting walls that threw back the possibility of
what the two of them, together, could become over and over again. Draco
shivered and sighed and then stepped away and opened his eyes to smile at
Potter.

�� That was
wonderful,� he said.

�� Potter�s
eyebrows were raised. �Perhaps you mean that it made you wonder at it?� he
asked. �Because you can�t mean it in the sense that I think you do.�

�� I mean in
the sense that it was beautiful,� Draco said. �And it got me hard.�

�� Potter�s
face flooded with so much red he might have been a virgin, though Draco, having
heard the rumors before he �went to Australia,� was fairly sure that wasn�t the
case. Then he made a vague gesture and said, �I�d heard of people like that,
who are drawn to magic, but I�ve never met one.�

�� Most
people are less drawn than I am,� Draco agreed calmly. �Because most people are
less honest.� He reached out impulsively, since Potter regarded him with such
intense doubt that Draco didn�t know how else he could convince him. �Here.
Hold on to my arms while I push my power towards the surface.�

�� It�s not
the same,� Potter said warily, though he did reach out at the same time and
grip Draco�s arms where directed. �Your power is controlled, and you can do
whatever you want with it. Not like I can.� A pang of envy shot through his
voice.

�� Would you
like to be able to control yours?� Draco whispered, his eyelashes lowered as he
concentrated and released the spell that kept most people from sensing how
powerful he was. That kind of magic was beyond most wizards� sensory perceptions
anyway, but Draco didn�t believe in taking chances. Someone else who had been
through the rituals might not be a potential ally in the way Potter was. �You
could, instead of getting rid of it. Of course we can do this ritual if you
want, but I would say that we should also look into ways of letting you retain
it and control it at the same time.�

�� He raised
his eyes to Potter�s, awaiting the answer to his question, at the same moment
as his magic rose like the sun.

*

�� Harry shut
his eyes. He wasn�t trembling because of Malfoy�s strength; if he wanted to do
that, he could do it by looking in a mirror.

�� But he
couldn�t have imitated the perilous warmth welling under his hands, a purring
wild beast that was only under the control of its trainer. Harry shuddered and
kept on shuddering. He wanted to be in contact with this magic more than he had
ever wanted to be in contact with his own. He knew what his own felt like, and
he was tired of the endless destruction with nothing behind the passion.

�� Malfoy�s magic
had plenty of passion behind it. And desire, and ambition, and a pulsing life that Harry envied more than
anything else, because his magic was the embodied force of death. Malfoy had
plans, and Harry could sense that without knowing what they were. He was going
to change the world and himself.

�� Change
them, not destroy them.

�� Harry
stepped closer, and closer. He kept his eyes shut, because seeing the
expression on Malfoy�s face would destroy the illusion. He wanted to pretend,
for a few moments more, that this was a simple bathing in the sea of another�s
power, that there were no bonds or obligations constraining them.

�� That�s
it,� Malfoy said, and the whistle of his breath traveled across Harry�s hair
and his voice shook.

�� Harry
couldn�t help it. He opened his eyes to see if Malfoy was possibly experiencing
the same kind of thing he was.

�� Malfoy�s
eyes were wide and dark and blown. His hands rested on Harry�s shoulder and
behind his head; the warmth of his magic had so consumed Harry that he hadn�t
even felt the hands come to rest. Malfoy moved nearer, and the magic came with
him, a blast of controlled fire that flickered around the edges of Harry�s
senses, touch and stroke and caress, and then fell back.

�� Harry was
gasping. It was as difficult to breathe at the moment as it really would have
been in superheated air, he thought, his heart pounding and lifting. He
couldn�t�he couldn�t do this. He couldn�t stand here like this and not be
consumed.

�� But moment
after moment passed, and he was not consumed.

�� Can you
still give this up?� Malfoy asked, from so close that Harry felt the movement
of his lips when he spoke. �Can you say that magic isn�t its own reason for
existing?�

�� If I could
have magic like yours,� Harry whispered back, �I might believe it.�

�� You shall
have it,� Malfoy said. �I promise.�

�� And Harry,
standing close in the firestorm of his power, believed it.��

*

�� shiv:
Thanks! Although I don�t know if you can say that Draco is clean and morally innocent
here.

�� Petalsoft:
Yes, although I think Draco would argue he is a much better politician than
Lucius ever was.

�� anonanon:
Thank you!

�� thrnbrooke:
Here it is!
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Ragnarok