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Nova Cupiditas	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 37321 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

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Chapter Four�Fourth
Time Lucky

�� You can�t
remember who you were with?� Harry squinted at the Pensieve that Draco had set
out before him. It was strange; as far as he knew, the Pensieve ought to reveal
what was really there, not just what Draco remembered, so they should have seen
the face of the person he�d gone drinking with. But Harry had seen only shadows
in the chairs, the way that he had seen only hoods over the faces of the people
who took Draco away, cast the spell on him, and tortured him.

�� Harry had
to clench his fists down on the arms of the chair he was sitting in when he
thought of the torture. What the fuck had
Draco done to deserve that? What would his accusers say if Harry confronted
them?

�� Then Harry
shook his head. He had spoken to fanatics like these before, and he knew
exactly what they would say. That Draco deserved it for being pure-blood and
having a father who had been a Death Eater. For having the Dark Mark himself.
There was no reasoning with people like them.

�� No,� Draco
said. He was sitting on the other side of the table in Malfoy Manor, watching
Harry with a patience that Harry only paid attention to some of the time. He
thought he would know when the spell he had cast started to lose its
effectiveness and the curse took over again. �It could have been harmless. It
could have been part of the plot. Do you want me to ask my friends?�

�� Harry
nodded. �Owl them. I don�t know�I mean, I don�t know if you want to meet them
until after the curse has been lifted.�

�� If then,�
Draco murmured and slung himself out of the chair, pausing in the doorway of
the small sitting room to stretch restlessly. Harry found himself admiring the
way his back bent, and then his heart clenched again like his hands wanted to.
His enemies would have hurt Draco less if they had cut into his back, used acid
on his skin, or cut off his fingers, the way they�d intended to. That would
have been less a violation of his integrity and his wholeness as a human being.

�� Harry
grimaced and rubbed the nape of his neck. Of course, that was the point. Nova Cupiditas was the worst punishment they could think of, so
they used it.

�� Draco
disappeared out the door, and Harry once again plunged his head beneath the
surface of the memories to review them. He kept hoping that he would catch a
detail that Draco hadn�t noticed, or see a careless, characteristic gesture
that would lead them straight to the guilty party.

�� So far,
though, it didn�t seem likely. Harry knew that there had been an organized
group of Muggleborns leading the attacks on pure-bloods at first, but others
had picked up their tactics after they were arrested. This could have been
something �official� or a simple grudge against Draco. Plenty of people knew
that incantation, after all.

�� Harry shook
his head when he had that thought, though. No.
The auditory glamour and the fact that they knew that specialized Stunning
Spell bespeaks a certain level of organization. This was deliberate, and they
might take advantage of what they think is his helplessness and try again.

�� Harry�s
hand tightened on his wand. They might
try.

*

�� Draco
tapped his wand sharply against the simple letter he had written, and all at
once there were four copies of it, the new three springing into being and then
lying on the table with a bright, helpful shine, as if to ask whether there was
anything else they could do for him. Draco hastily signed each one, and then
wrote a different name at the top, after �Dear.� He had to work a bit to crowd
Theodore�s name into the small spot. Pansy, Blaise, and Greg all had shorter
names, after all.

�� He called
the post-owls from the Owlery at the back of the Manor and tied the letters to
their legs, listening and feeling all the while.

�� So far, the
curse was silent at the back of his mind.

�� Thank Merlin.

�� Draco
didn�t know how long it would be that way. He knew that he enjoyed the clear
race and flash of his thoughts, and the way that he could walk away from Potter
and feel no more than the usual faint tinge of concern that Potter might get
into his books or break the elegant crystal heirlooms he�d left behind�and
potentially unsafe�while he wasn�t looking. He could think of Potter as a
person, not a force.

�� Or a dessert.

�� Draco
shuddered as he tied on the last letter, the one to Pansy, and watched the owl
flying out the window. He had thought he hated it when the curse was driving
him forwards against his will to touch and fondle Potter, but the thought of what
had happened that morning�his will gone, his concentration on rolling Potter
beneath him�disturbed him more.

�� I have to find a way out of or around that.
I can�t go on surrendering like that. I didn�t even try to fight.

�� Of course,
he knew other people would say that he couldn�t
have fought, that the curse wouldn�t permit it. But all Draco knew was that
his mind had drowned the moment he woke up, alone, in a strange bed and thought
about Potter just down the corridor from him in the kitchen.

�� Potter was
trying to help him. Very well. Potter had done the impossible before now. Draco
would aid him with his research and hope that Potter�s luck held.

�� Draco?
What are you doing? The house-elves have told me that Harry Potter is here, of all people.�

�� Draco spent
a moment staring out the window at the treetops swaying and dipping in a brisk
wind before he grasped his courage and turned around.

�� His mother
stood in the doorway, one hand holding a pale sleeping robe shut around her, a
faint frown on her face. She had obviously come straight from bed, given the
rucked-up state of her hair. Draco strode across the room to take her hand and
kiss it. He thought he could manage that much. Something dark squirmed at the
bottom of his stomach when he thought of kissing her cheek the way he usually
did.

�� Despair
trembled in his throat when he felt that. He had hoped that he would have the
full three days free of sexual desire that the Cold Water Curse usually
promised, but it didn�t seem likely.

�� Something
has happened,� his mother said, glancing at his face and seeming to understand
that right away. �Draco, what is it? Please tell me.� She closed her eyes for a
moment as though to hold back tears, though Draco couldn�t remember the last
time he had seen his mother weep. Even during the horrible year when they�d
been trapped here by the Dark Lord, she was far more likely to sit still for
hours, head bowed and hands clenched�which was frightening in another way.
�What is it?� she repeated a few seconds later, in a stronger voice.

�� Draco took
a deep breath and guided her over to a couch, letting her sit down as though it
was all her own decision. She winced when her legs made contact with the couch,
though they had no hard furniture in the house, and tilted her head back so
that she could look him in the eye.

�� Someone�I
don�t know who, but we�re trying to find out�cast Nova Cupiditas on me,� Draco said. �They did it to make me desire
Potter.�

�� Once again,
as she had during that year, his mother went still. Draco glanced away and
stared hard at the fireplace, eyes burning, until Narcissa cleared her throat
and seemed inclined to return to herself. �Why is he with you?� she asked. �I know that constantly seeing the object of
the curse only increases the desire to touch it.�

�� Because
he�s helping me,� Draco said. He felt unequal to looking at her right now. He
concentrated on the lines that divided the marble blocks of the fireplace
instead, and tried to remember if he had ever seen flames that weren�t
magical�and thus produced ash or cinders�lighted there. �He�s a magical
researcher, working on seeing the signatures of spells. If he can see this one,
then he thinks he might be able to figure out a way to destroy it.�

�� There�s no
way to do that.�

�� Not that
anyone knows about,� Draco admitted, finally turning back to her. She sounded
as though she needed more help right now than he did. �But we�re trying to find
one anyway. He�s already given me more relief than I thought possible, by
laying the Cold Water Curse on me, and he�s�accommodated my needs in a way that
leaves me with my mind and yet leaves him able to function, too. He�s been more
helpful than I had any reason to believe he would be.�

�� Narcissa
bit her lip and drummed her hand on her lap for a moment. Then she said, �When
the end comes, Draco, as it will, what will you do?�

�� Draco drew
in his breath. He knew that his mother dealt with crises by facing the worst
from the beginning and staring it in the face, but at the moment, he would have
been grateful if she had chosen some other method of coping. �Potter and I are
trying to prevent that from happening.�

�� She shook
her head. �You can�t. What will you do?�

�� Draco
hissed between his teeth. He couldn�t blame her, because he understood this
impulse too well: never show your enemy that you were harmed by the blow, but
face them with pride even as you bled to death. He had chosen life, though, and
it disheartened him to realize that she thought his choice stupid. �Potter has
offered to kill me, if I have too much�hunger�at the time to render my choice
rational. Or to give me back my mind and let me choose.�

�� Good,� his
mother said, and smoothed her hands across the front of the robe again, staring
at the wall. �I will tell your father slowly.�

�� Draco
grimaced. That was another conversation he didn�t want to think about. His
father had all but retired from the world, and it might kill him to hear that
his son was a victim of the same corrupt process that had destroyed others�
lives. But it would kill him more to have the knowledge kept from him. He lived through Draco, now. Draco�s
successes and failures were the only future that he would ever have.

�� And now, that�s no future.

�� I�m going
back to Potter,� he said abruptly, standing up. �You can come with me, Mother,
if you like. I think he might want to meet you.�

�� His mother
shuddered and glanced to the side. �I hope not,� she murmured. �I need time to
absorb this, and his helpfulness, as essential as it appears to be for you,
would be poison for me.�

�� She headed
out of the room, Draco�s glance tracking her in frustration. Yes, he could understand what she was going through;
he could feel sympathy for it. But at the same time, he wished she had been able
to think that this was less than hopeless and encourage him to choose life
instead of death.

�� Is it the war that�s made her and Father
this way? Draco wondered, heading back through the library to the sitting
room where he�d left Potter. Ready to
give up their lives, and my life, to maintain an appearance of pride? Or is
that just a code of values that I never learned, first because they spoiled me
too much and then because the war changed everything?

�� He didn�t
know the answer to that question. There was another one that mattered more, and
the answer to that one was branded
along his bones.

�� He would
choose life, as long as he could. He would cling to his mind and his reason,
and he would throw it back in their teeth, the death that they all wished him
to die.

*

�� No luck?�

�� Draco�s
voice was quiet. Harry glanced at him quickly to make sure that he was both
near the door, the way his voice sounded as if he was, and that his eyes
weren�t glazed, and then smiled a little.

�� No, unfortunately,�
Harry said. He picked up the thick book that rested on the table beside him.
�But I did learn a few things about the curse that I hadn�t known before. I
think I might be a bit closer to figuring out how to defeat it.�

�� Draco
stayed motionless for a few seconds, then snorted and strode across the floor
towards him. �Oh, yes. Of course. No one else has managed to defeat this curse
since it was first cast, but you can learn how in a few minutes of reading.
Arrogant, aren�t you?�

�� Harry
rolled his eyes. He already knew how Draco operated. If Harry acted modest,
then he would just say the modesty was false. Harry kind of hoped that the
curse was stirring up Draco�s self-protective instincts at the moment, because
he would be intolerable to be around if he was like this all the time.

�� Then Harry
shook his head. He didn�t have to be around Draco when he was normal, he
reminded himself. Just concentrate on getting him there and then leave him
alone with best wishes and a fond backwards glance. Then he could go back to
working on revealing charms for Finite
Incantatem and try to forget that Hermione had ever seen him molested in
his kitchen.

�� None of
those researchers had my knowledge,� he said. �I told you this was a new field.
Look.� He turned the book towards Draco and tapped the paragraph he�d noticed.

�� Draco read
it. Harry watched him, trying to gauge his feelings from as much of his face as
he could see in profile. His lips were tight, his cheeks pale, and his hand
clenched on the edge of the table in a way that told Harry he was getting
steadily more upset.

�� Then Harry
winced. Maybe it wasn�t the best or most sensitive thing to have Draco read
about the curse that was tormenting him.

�� Yes,�
Draco said at last, stepping back and shaking his head. �I don�t see anything
there that�s new. What did it tell you?�

�� At least he�s willing to accept that it told
me something, instead of thinking I�m
mad. Harry had grown used to much less generous reactions since he started
researching spell signatures. He took the book back. �That sentence about the
way that the curse sinks into your skin when it�s cast. I know other spells
that do that. The research can go in a new direction, focusing on what I know
about them. Maybe I can find a solution that applies to them which would also
apply to this curse.�

�� Ah.� Draco
rapped his fingers on the table for a minute, then shoved back from it and
stalked around the room. Harry grew dizzy watching him. The room had both pale
walls and pale shelves of some soft, elegant wood, maybe birch, that Draco
nearly matched in the color of his clothing and his hair. Harry didn�t think the
place had been made with people trying to separate Malfoys from their furniture
in mind. �But this doesn�t get any closer to the attackers who cast the spell
on me.�

�� No,� Harry
had to admit. He closed the book. He�d take it with him, since no one in the
Manor could possibly have more need of it than he did. �You want revenge
first?�

�� Draco
turned and stared at him, eyes wide. They had a different shine to them than
they did when he was intent on fucking, Harry thought, and it wasn�t only the
lack of the glaze the curse tended to put there.

�� Yech. Under things I never wanted to know
about Draco Malfoy�

�� Revenge
might be the only concrete thing I can
contribute to,� Draco said, carefully pronouncing each word. �Of course I want
it first.�

�� You
contribute a lot just by being willing to let me cast spells on you,� Harry
said. �I couldn�t do this research if you were staying in a separate house or
if you ran every time I leveled my wand at you. Although I can�t blame you if
you want to, after the Cold Water Curse.�

�� Draco
grunted. �Considering that it�s the only reason I can think right now, I�ll
forgive you for that one.� He showed Harry a thin smile. Harry didn�t know why
he smiled back, given that Draco looked as if he intended the expression to
cut.

�� What I want to do now,� Draco continued in a
deceptively gentle voice, �is go to the place where they took me, and look for
clues.�

�� Harry
blinked. �I thought you didn�t know where that was.� Otherwise, surely, it
would have been a lot easier for Draco to find his attackers on his own, and he
would have done it the moment he was cursed.

�� I have a
way to find out.� Draco�s smile widened, and he took a step forwards, with a
challenge in his stride that Harry recognized from Hogwarts. Draco wasn�t
falling back under the curse�s influence, at least right now. He was just
gleefully watching Harry to see if he would back away from whatever this
challenge implied. �Unless you mind some blood magic.�

�� It depends
on who you torture for it,� Harry retorted, and tried not to think about some
of the things he had learned in Auror training.

�� I would
ordinarily use my own blood,� Draco said, with the corner of his mouth twisting
up now. �Although there are certain pure-bred moralists who would shriek even
at that. Most of them have names beginning with a W. Are you going to run away
and tattle to them, Potter, if I use it and you help me?�

�� Harry
winced. He shouldn�t have forgotten that the real Malfoy was still there, under
the temporarily helpful surface that the curse had created, and that he would
delight in creating morally grey situations for Harry to get involved in.

�� But there
was one way that Harry could still take control of this.

�� Can you
use my blood instead?� he asked. �Then you have a guarantee that I won�t run
off and tell the Weasleys.�

�� Draco
gulped air and stared at him. Harry stared back, wondering if he should feel quite as happy that he had nearly
managed to make Draco swallow his tongue.

�� You�mean
that,� Draco said. �Even without knowing what I�m going to do with it.�

�� Harry
rolled his eyes. �What, should I have said my approval was contingent on your
intentions? I didn�t think I needed to spell that out, that you were more than
intelligent enough to grasp it.�

�� Draco shook
his head. He seemed caught up in a dream, at least if the slow way he blinked
and studied Harry was any indication. Harry looked back and waited for him to
make up his mind.

�� No,� Draco
said at last. �It has to be my blood, because I�m the one with the curse bound
to me, and I�m the one they kidnapped. My body should still have a link to that
place, if only because that was where the curse was cast, and where I rested on
the grass for a little while.�

�� Harry
nodded. �Fine. What do we need to do?�

*

�� Draco eyed
Potter sideways as he poured the final three drops of blood from the cut on his
arm into a vial and held it up. He�d tried this once already, and it hadn�t
worked. That was when Draco knew that he couldn�t simply prick a finger and use
the blood from there. He had to go deeper, cut wider, show that he was serious.

�� Potter
simply leaned against the wall of the potions lab where Draco had decided to
work, since it was more sterile in here than in most of the house, and watched
him. Draco didn�t think he could call the tension in Potter�s face boredom, but
it was as close as he could come without being indifferent to the ritual, Draco
thought.

�� He had been
willing to use his own blood. Or at least, willing as long as it was for
something that didn�t violate his Gryffindor morals.

�� Draco shook
his head and focused on what he was doing. He thought the last attempt to cast
the spell had failed, at least in part, because he was thinking too much about
Potter and not enough about the magic in front of him. He turned his eyes down
again and watched the vial until he was sure that the blood had settled evenly.
He tapped his wand against the glass a few times to coax clinging drops down
off the sides and into the rest of the blood at the bottom.

�� I�m
ready,� he said.

�� Potter
nodded and shifted to the side, drawing his wand. Draco could have done this
himself, but it was easier when he had someone to cast the background,
preparatory spells, while he could concentrate on what needed to be done with
the blood.

�� While
Potter cleaned the table from Draco�s last attempt, cleaned the silver bowl
that Draco would be using, and separated the grains of salt to examine them and
discover any impurities, Draco closed his eyes. He thought as hard as he could
about the night of the curse, about the place where his enemies had brought
him, about the grass beneath his body and the smell of the fire in his
nostrils. Of course, he�d been concentrating more on their voices and what he
could see of their faces, but he still recalled a lot. The horror had imprinted
most of the details of that night in his memory.

�� I will,� he whispered, his promise to the
blood, focusing on the fact that he had spilled this because he considered
something worth more than even the blood that flowed in his veins, and then
upended the vial over the silver bowl.

�� The blood
cascaded down, hissing. It hit the silver and burst into fire, messy black
flames with a stink of burning meat in the middle of them. Draco shaded his
eyes with his bandaged hand and scooped up the bowl of salt, upending it into
the flames in turn. They spat and burned even more fiercely. Silver and salt
were symbols of purity. Combined with the blood spilled for a Dark magic
ritual, they would react with an intense opposition.

�� But out of
that opposition, combined with the fact that he had used his own blood and chosen
to sacrifice it, Draco was hoping to see results.

�� This time,
he did. The smoke rose into the air and, slowly, formed itself into a series of
concentric rings, growing larger and larger as they traveled further out. Draco
watched them, chest having, and soon they stopped spreading. Near the border of
the outermost ring and the second-outermost one, a dot appeared. Draco found
that he was zooming towards the dot although he stood still.

�� The
impressions flooded his senses. Trees, grass, a small hill, and the sound and
smell of stagnant water nearby. Draco turned around, wondering if he could spot
a sign or something else that would tell him the name of the place, but it
didn�t matter. He had more than enough for Apparition coordinates.

�� When he
opened his eyes, the image remained shimmering in front of them, a temporary
effect, but one that would ensure they reached it more easily. He held out a
commanding arm, and Potter hastily stepped forwards to loop his hand through
Draco�s elbow.

�� Hang on,�
Draco said, his voice strained and tight.

�� The air
around them rippled and popped, tearing open in a jagged rent. Draco bowed his
head and breathed on the center of the tear.

�� The magic
picked them up and whirled them through space. Draco rode it with his heart
beating fiercely in his throat and Potter�s flesh smelling good right under his
nose.

�� I am going to find you, you bastards. And I
have things that I can do to you, too.

*

�� RosieRaven:
Thank you!

�� SP777:
Well, admittedly, I�ve repeated chapter names a time or two. ;)

�� I am tense right
now, but I think a lot of that is inevitable.

�� I hope to
avoid being clich� in this story.

�� yami bakura:
Thanks. I have the end in mind, although not all the events along the way.

�� Ketamine:
Well, thank you! I hope that you continue to enjoy this. It should be updated
about every three days, give or take a day here and there.

�� Vibora:
Thanks! Hope you continue to like it.

�� mariahs_fantasy:
Thank you. Yes, this curse is very dark, and that jealousy of Draco�s might be
cute now, but�
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Nova Cupiditas