Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Endurance	By : WinterRaven Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 29171 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of Harry Potter universe. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty-One
- 22-Twenty-Two
- 23-Twenty-Three
- 24-Twenty-Four
- 25-Twenty-Five
- 26-Twenty-Six
- 27-Twenty-Seven
- 28-Twenty-Eight
- 29-Twenty-Nine
- 30-Thirty
- 31-Thirty-One
- 32-Thirty-Two
- 33-Thirty-Three
- 34-Thirty-Four
- 35-Thirty-Five
- 36-Thirty-Six
- 37-Thirty-Seven
- 38-Thirty-Eight
- 33
- 34
- 35
Author’s Note: I apologize for the immense delay in updating! I know it’s been weeks but with a combination of school and writer’s block it was hard to get this chapter out. I’m determined to finish this story and am a few chapters away from its conclusion. Thank you to every reader and reviewer who’s stuck by me during this long process! I hope that you will enjoy what’s coming up.

“I shall tell you a great secret. Do not wait for the last judgment. It happens every day.” –Albert Camus

Thirty-Four

He was there again, in that space, the bright white void and Harry turned his head left and right, trying to find the person who he knew was here. He didn’t have to search too long. His body was buzzing with the feeling, the knowledge, the burning desire to see her. And she walked toward him, just as he thought, with her arms open and wide, a beautiful smile on her pale face. Harry ran to his sister, clamped on to her desperately; he felt her arms close around his trembling body.

“It’s okay,” she said to him, her voice soft and calm. “It’s okay now.”

Harry closed his eyes and rested his head against her neck; Elisha did not let go of him.

“Am I dead?” Harry whispered.

Elisha didn’t answer immediately.

“It depends on what you think it means to be dead.”

Harry pulled away from her to look into her dark, onyx eyes. They were glimmering and Harry noticed the light around them was dimming slightly.

He must be dead if he was here with her. Because she was gone.

“I’m dead then,” Harry said, trying to keep his voice even, self-assured. “I have to be.”

“Do you?”

Harry stepped back from her completely, examined her closely. Her eyes were boring into his, unblinking; she almost had a curious, sad look about her, as if pitying Harry’s inability to see the truth.

And she opened her mouth again to speak, but panic took over Harry when her voice began fading from him.

Harry gasped, and rushed forward again, trying to grasp onto her slipping words. He reached out blindly ahead of him, attempting to hold on to her now fading form, attempting to embrace her again, to know that this was real, that she was real.

He was begging her to stay, screaming and his yells became louder, became more than his—

It took him a moment to realize the sound, the sudden cacophony of noise bursting into his eardrums. There were other screams, screams outside of him, around him. He could feel the frantic movements of many bodies shuffling about his own. He felt someone’s trembling fingers on his arm, another pair of warm hands on his neck, perhaps checking for a pulse, a flutter of life beneath his clammy skin…

“No,” Harry groaned, his eyes shut tight. He felt weak and dizzy and sick as he was slipping from his dream to semi-consciousness. “No…”

He understood. He didn’t want them to revive him. He didn’t want them to save him.

“No,” he gasped again, unable to open his eyes. He felt himself lifted up into the air; pairs of hands were on him, carrying him. He heard the twist and rolls of a familiar voice near his ear, a voice asking him to stay, a voice weeping and crying.

“Please hold on,” the voice begged.

But Harry couldn’t. He felt cold, so cold, and all he wanted was to be warm again.

*

They placed Harry’s body on a bed, the bed he and Draco shared, a bed not smothered in his blood, and Dumbledore was over him, pointing his wand at his limp, mutilated arm, muttering a quick incantation to tie up his self inflicted wounds, to bring the blood back into his veins, to nourish him, keep him alive and with them.

Too many pairs of terrified eyes were staring as Dumbledore did his quick work; Ron and Hermione were trembling in a corner, hugging each other in terror, not understanding what was happening; Lupin stood stunned and silent, his face wet with tears as he watched the boy he thought he knew slip from them with every passing second; Snape and Lucius were clasping each others’ hands, trying to pass calmness between them, to stop themselves from delving in to full blown panic; but Draco was by Harry. Draco was shaking wildly as though his body had just been dipped in ice; his pale form was covered in some of his lover’s blood, and he was grabbing on to Harry’s limp hand with his own, squeezing it and murmuring reassurances to his unconscious lover as Dumbledore worked and worked.

“Stay, stay,” Draco murmured, trying to keep his voice even, hoping against all hope that he was actually feeling Harry’s skin burning underneath his, that Dumbledore’s spells were working. “Stay with me.”

Draco felt his heart flip when Harry groaned again. Someone gasped in the corner of the room. Everyone leaned forward to look closer, to make sure that Harry was living with them. Harry’s eyelids fluttered open, his piercing green eyes roaming around the room in panic. He tried to sit up but Dumbledore held him down with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Stay where you are,” Dumbledore commanded, his voice quiet but powerful nonetheless. “Don’t exert yourself too much.”

Harry did not respond. He tried to keep calm; he could feel every part of his body working in overdrive to sustain him, his blood pumping hot and furious through his veins. He felt someone’s hand over his and glancing down quickly saw it was Draco’s—his lover’s eyes flashed before his, his face coming in and out of focus, pale and frightened and Harry could feel the beginnings of guilt rumbling in him.

What have I done?

Draco looked into his eyes, unblinking, his gray orbs swimming in tears.

I just…wanted to see her again.

And Harry yanked his hand from Draco’s only to bring his own to his face. He cried into his palms with a sob that sounded too much like a howl of a wounded animal, of a lost, forlorn creature.

*

Time passed in an odd way, flickering about. Harry wasn’t sure what happened after he cried. He only remembered letting strong hands grip his chin and open his mouth; he let them tip the liquid down his throat, a sleeping drought. He let those same hands lay him back down against the bed, let those hands wipe the tears from his eyes. Though the hands were steady, Harry knew their owner was not.

It was just him and Draco alone then; everyone had left without a word, without any explanations from Harry. Dumbledore had given him a last, roaming glance before grabbing Snape by the elbow and throwing him into the hallway. Harry remembered the sound of their shouting, the sound of other people yelling, something breaking in the far distance, spells firing somewhere. He didn’t care.

He didn’t care about them anymore. He had only cared about one thing in that moment.

Elisha.

Her face, her smile. He wanted to be with her again. He didn’t want to do what he needed to do.

A whimper broke through him before he drifted into his potion-induced sleep. Draco held him tight.

*

He awoke to a faint whisper, awoke in the blackness of night, unsure of the time or day.

“Harry,” he heard Draco whisper, “Harry, why?”

Draco was curled over him and Harry could feel his hot tears on his bare skin, the way his thin arms shook as he scooped Harry to him, the way his fingers ran over the new scars on his lovers arms, wondering, needing to understand why.

“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured, his body trembling.

“Are you?”

“I am.”

The two boys stayed entwined together, not moving.

“Why?” Draco asked, sniffling.

Harry did not answer for a long time.

“I—I just couldn’t do this much longer,” Harry finally said quietly, staring at the ceiling.

“What?” Draco said sharply.

“This. This limbo. This…waiting.”

“Harry—”

“I think I tried to die because I was afraid of what I had to face. With you. With Snape. With my destiny—”

“Harry—”

“No, Draco, let me finish,” Harry said softly, feeling suddenly determined to speak. “I don’t deserve to be with you. That’s it. We shouldn’t do this anymore. I ruined it—”

“You didn’t—!”

“Please!” Harry yelped, his voice desperate now. “Please just…just let me finish what I have to say.”

He heard Draco take in a deep, shaky breath.

“The only way I can be with you again is when I’ve righted everything,” Harry said, his voice back to its soft, strange calmness. The words were spilling automatically from him, a confession that had always been buried beneath him. “There’s only one way to do that.”

There was another long pause between the two.

“Voldemort,” Draco whispered.

“Yeah,” Harry said with a sigh. “Voldemort. I have to kill him.”

“I know.”

“I have to do it alone.”

“I—” Draco choked on his words; Harry felt his lover pull his hand from his. He felt the bed shift as Draco moved away from him. “I never wanted to end anything with you. I was angry about…about what happened with Snape, yes, but… Harry. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Harry said. His voice was shaking as he tried to contain his emotion. “I love you so much I didn’t want to live after what I did—”

“Damnit!” Draco screamed and Harry gasped in shock. “Fuck! I’m not talking to you in the dark anymore!” Harry felt Draco jump up from next to him; he heard the faint sound of swishing and a whispered spell and suddenly there was a dim glow in the room.

He sat up quickly and faced forward, his mouth ready to speak but froze at the look on Draco’s face, a hard, determined, enraged look.

“So you think the solution is to die?” Draco snarled, advancing on Harry with his wand pointed directly at his chest. “You selfish fuck! You have no idea what you did to me! What you did to Snape! Or your friends—”

“I don’t know what I did?” Harry shot back incredulously, the guilt frothing through him, burning so hard in his chest that he thought a singeing hole might appear where his heart was. “What—”

“Are you really that fucking selfish?” Draco snapped. “So selfish that you’d think I wouldn’t want to talk to you about what happened with Snape? Are you so selfish that you’d think I wouldn’t forgive you—”

“I never said that—!”

“No! You didn’t have to say it out loud! Don’t you get it, Harry? You said it all by trying to off yourself!”

“You—”

“Did you really expect me to be okay with you trying to rip your fucking arm off like that? Did you expect me to say nothing when you awoke? Did you expect no one to find you?” Draco screamed, his face contorted and suddenly aged well beyond his years.

Harry felt his blood pumping too hard, the pain in his head sudden and dizzying. He knew only one thing—

Draco’s right. He’s right.

“I…” Harry felt the tears come. God. Why? “I’m so sorry—”

Draco pressed the tip of the wand into Harry’s sternum, staring hard into his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Harry wept, trying to show through his words his utter sorrow and pain. “I’m—”

But Draco suddenly threw the wand aside and lunged forward, yanking Harry’s face in his hands. He slammed their mouths together in a brutal kiss that would surely bruise his lips. At first, Harry tried to fight him off. He didn’t want this, this madness between them. But it’s all my fault.

Draco was crying hard against Harry as he pushed his tongue into his lover’s mouth, now pinning Harry down onto the bed with his strong body. Harry groaned against him, unsure if he wanted this or not, unsure of what was happening between them now, if this was love or hatred or violence or a need to heal.

He could feel hot tears on him, spilling over his cheeks, as Draco held him down, rough and wild.

“You bastard—” Draco wept against Harry’s mouth, biting Harry’s lips with cruel force.

Harry gasped and found the strength to push Draco off of him, causing the blonde to go falling off the bed. He rolled onto the floor with a dull thud and Harry sat up quickly, feeling as though he was about to vomit.

The two stared at each other, both their eyes wide and frightened, confused.

“Do you want to hurt me?” Harry whispered.

“N-no… No and yes…”

“Hurt me then—”

Draco stood up, slowly, watching Harry unblinkingly.

“You want me to fuck you,” the blonde said, suddenly calm.

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered, shaking his head, feeling his body thrum with this feeling, this overwhelming urge to be had. “I…don’t know what I need anymore.”

“I know what you’re asking me for,” Draco snarled quietly. “You want me to fuck you. And right after you tried to kill yourself—”

“Please,” was all that Harry begged, suddenly knowing, understanding.

I need to feel this.

“I need to feel alive,” Harry whispered.

“Alive?”

I need this.

“Please. Please, show me.”

“Don’t beg,” Draco whispered and though his voice conveyed disgust at Harry’s request, his body moved forward. “Don’t—”

Their eyes locked.

Harry wasn’t sure which one of them slammed their lips together first. He wasn’t sure who made those wild noises, so needy and animalistic, which one of them slowed their ferocity down, began kissing at a steady, loving pace.

He could barely register Draco’s heady whisper, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

And then the feel of Draco’s fingers in him, coating him, the feel of being stretched with Draco’s length, of being completed tenderly. He wasn’t sure which one of them cried first, which one of them held the other down, who shifted against who, their bodies rolling on the bed— Harry only knew this feeling. The brimming need within him, the way he swallowed Draco’s hardness deep inside, the way his own was being stroked gently by his lover.

His eyes fluttered shut as Draco kissed his eyelids, moving slowly inside of him, wrapping their bodies together. His heart beat in sync with their fast, labored breathing; his blood rushed within; his skin whirred.

I need this.

“Please,” Harry begged again.

And he let Draco bring him to orgasm, the bliss ripping through him. He gripped tight onto Draco as his channel was filled to the brim with his lover’s seed. He felt everything, let the afterglow course through him, reveled in the madness of being alive, of the sweat pouring down his brow, of the effort it took to draw air into his lungs, of Draco’s body slumping over his, their hearts racing as one.

“Don’t ever try to leave me again,” Draco gasped into Harry’s ear.

Harry shut his eyes and snaked his arms around Draco’s body, bringing their chests entirely together.

“I can’t. I won't,” Harry whispered. “Not after that.”

Draco pulled up a little so he and Harry were staring at each other, eye to eye.

“I…I understand that I can’t run away anymore,” Harry continued, his voice shaking. “I know what I have to do—”

“We’re going to kill Voldemort,” Draco said, his voice strong, far stronger than Harry would have thought possible. “We’re going to kill him and this insanity is going to end.”

There was a long pause.

“You’re right,” Harry murmured. “We’re going to do this. Together.”

Together.

As it should be.

TBC
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Endurance