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The Long-Desired	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12097 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J. K. Rowling. I am making no money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 1-The Long-Desired
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 4
- 5
- 6
Thank you again for all the reviews!

�� The impact
blasted the breath from Harry�s lungs. The knife jarred from his hand. He fell
forwards on the hawk, which screamed once and then clamped its beak down in his
belly. Harry cursed and flailed, trying to tumble away from the pain, not
realizing until a moment later that worse things than that might happen to him
if the ritual�s magic didn�t come together in the way it was supposed to.

�� And that
wasn�t saying anything about the threat that had hit him in the first place.

�� He rolled
back, kicking, and coiled around to deliver a punch as strong as he could into
the face of the person who had hit him. It had too few limbs and too familiar a
body shape to be anything other than a person, though of course a vampire might
count�

�� Harry,�
said Malfoy�s voice above him.

�� Anger burst
in Harry�s head like someone smashing through a stained-glass window. He had no
idea why it so startled and shocked him that Malfoy hadn�t kept his promise to
stay away for three nights�after all, it was what he had expected in the first
place, for a vampire to break the terms of any agreement it made, because
mortals and mortal moral codes simply didn�t matter to them�but it did.

�� Fuck you!�
he screamed up into Malfoy�s face, or what would have been Malfoy�s face if he
could just find a way to get his feet beneath him and stand. �You bastard.� The
hawk�s beak clamped down, shards of glass dug into his back, Malfoy pressed
down on him from above and held his fangs warningly to Harry�s throat, and
still Harry could think of nothing but making Malfoy pay.

*

�� Draco could
see the Dark magic react the moment he bore Harry to the floor and interrupted
the ritual.

�� It turned
from the bird he�d pinned and coiled around Harry�s head like a garland,
digging its roots into his temples, sinking through his ears and latching onto
his brain. The bird beneath Harry, or maybe the glass, must have caused him
some other sort of pain, because he bellowed with it instead of trying to fight
off the magic. That gave it all the more opportunity to get a hold, of course.

�� When he
began to hiss and spit insults at Draco, uncaring of the blood he must be
losing from the smell or the blood that Draco could make him lose, Draco knew what particular form the Dark magic had
taken. Madness, suicidal madness focused on the first threat noticed. If
something else had disrupted the ritual, then Harry might have turned on the
hawk this way.

�� This is exactly why he should never have
used the ritual in the first place, Draco thought, and leaped off Harry,
because he needed to get out of the maze and the iron ring that Draco had only
now seen surrounding them to have any chance of weakening the magic. He ended
up on the far side of the room, clinging to a wall. Harry fought his way to his
feet and charged at once. Draco breathed a sigh of relief once his feet cleared
the iron.

�� The sight
of the room as a whole came to him then. The hawk was dying in the middle of
the ring, its wings fluttering frantically, bloodstone flames cascading down
around it in showers of scarlet sparks. Splintered glass reflected the light of
those flames with crazed devotion, rendering most of the room strange even to
Draco�s night-adapted eyes. A few last bits of sunset made the flames brighter,
the reflections worse.

�� And in the
middle of it all was Harry.

�� Bleeding
from his toes and his heels and his legs where he must have stepped on the
glass. Bleeding from his belly where the hawk had bitten him. Bleeding from the
temple where Draco must have smashed his head against the floor when he leaped
in to stop him. Crowned with darkness where the magic encircled him, tightening
its hold every moment, like ivy that matured in seconds instead of years and
strangled its tree. Stretched with
fury, his face longer and his teeth bared and brighter and his eyes wider to
contain the drowning rage.

�� Draco had
never been able to resist the blood of his Long-Desired, and he had never been
able to resist power, even when he was mortal.

�� He didn�t
want to calm Harry down. Not this time. He didn�t utter the croon or the hum
that had worked when they last saw each other. He lowered his belly to the
floor and slinked forwards instead, baring his fangs as he did so. He was
unsure whether he would look more like a lion or a snake to Harry, and he
didn�t care. Just so long as he looked like a predator.

�� He wanted
Harry to hunt him.

�� Come on
then,� he said, in a voice that he knew sounded breathier than usual, because
he couldn�t draw the air all the way into his lungs. �Make me pay.�

*

�� Harry was
dimly aware that he no longer needed a wand, that magic surged and crackled
under his skin when he lifted a hand, and that that was unnatural.

�� But that
was just fine, because all he wanted
to do was destroy Malfoy, not speculate endlessly and idly on the reason that
his magic appeared to have altered.

�� He aimed
one hand, pointing two fingers, and a bloodstone beam of light stabbed at
Malfoy, who arched himself on toes and fingertips so that the beam ran under
him. Malfoy snarled eagerly and sprang straight at Harry, mouth open to display
his fangs and hands hooked so that they resembled talons.

�� Harry went
to meet him in a storm of fire and darkness.

�� They
clashed in midair, which startled Harry for a moment, because he knew he had no
leaping prowess to match a vampire�s. But then the sweetness of battle drowned
him, and he simply didn�t care any
longer.

�� Malfoy
knocked him backwards�no surprise, given the strength in that pale undead
body�and nuzzled his way into Harry�s throat like some burrowing insect, his
fangs clashing. Harry heard his skin rip, felt a new wound open, felt the blood
flow. Malfoy let out a needy little moan and lowered his head.

�� Harry
reached up to cup the nape of his neck, acted as if he were steering Malfoy to
the feast of his injury�and then pressed down hard, smashing Malfoy�s face
against his chest at the same time as he brought up his arm and imagined it
becoming as hard and heavy as a hammer.

�� He heard
the bone of Malfoy�s skull briefly crack and yield. Then Malfoy pushed
irresistibly up, and up, and upwards, and Harry found himself lying on the
floor with his arms pinned over his head and a hungry vampire entwining him
like a shroud, fastening teeth into his neck.

�� The bright
clear pain of the pull on his blood stabbed through him like a lightning bolt
and cleared the haze that might otherwise have overcome him. He waited until he
thought Malfoy fully occupied with his drinking, then lifted his legs, willed
magic into them, clasped them around Malfoy�s waist, and squeezed.

�� More bones
cracked. Malfoy howled like a wolf with a broken leg. Harry snarled in
satisfaction and rolled over so that Malfoy was beneath him and his arms flew
gloriously free, before he reached down and tried to gouge Malfoy�s eyes out.

�� Malfoy
snapped and twisted, and one of Harry�s fingers was gashed open to the bone,
bleeding so freely that Malfoy simply opened his mouth beneath the free meal
and stuck his tongue out to lap. Harry turned so that the spray of liquid hit
Malfoy in the eyes, blinding him, and jumped free again.

�� His vision
was dazzled with dark rockets, and he was gasping as though he�d just done a
lot more fighting than he had. Harry suspected he was finally weakening with
blood loss. It wouldn�t take Malfoy long to rise from the floor. He had to
figure out a way to close these wounds and�

�� Malfoy
whirled at him sideways, like a thrown pinwheel. Then Harry was on the floor
beneath him again, this time with his legs pinned with the vampire�s, his arms
pinned with the vampire�s, and the vampire�s mouth pressing against his, eyes
filled with scarlet pinpricks that Harry had never noticed before.

�� Surrender,�
Malfoy whispered. The words were accompanied with a puff of breath that
confused Harry. It smelled rich and coppery, like blood, instead of rotting
earth, though Harry was fairly sure Malfoy hadn�t fed tonight. He would have
been stronger, and Harry would have been unable to break his bones, if he had.

�� No,� Harry
said simply, and closed his eyes, whispering the command word that would
trigger another of the traps that he carried in his body for the sake of
surprising vampires.

�� His ribcage
unfolded, pierced through his skin, and sprang up to ensnare Malfoy.

*

�� Draco
grunted in breathless surprise. Harry had already cracked the back of his skull
and caused fractures in his pelvis, but Draco had been sure he had immobilized
him at last. His next move would have been to rip free that crown of Dark magic
and challenge Harry to face him without it.

�� Instead, he
found himself in a cage of bone, and when he struggled against it, it simply
pressed silently, implacably inwards, cutting grooves in his skin, squeezing
him like the coils of a python.

�� Harry lay
beneath him, panting up with a crazed smile on his face, his chest a smooth and
bloodless ruin. Apparently this was a magical modification he had planned, and
he only had to wait until the struggling, thrashing vampire was cut in half and
died writhing against him.

�� His face
was streaked with blood, black and red with it, masked with it, flickering grey
in the changing shadows of Dark magic.

�� He had
never looked so powerful. He had never looked so magnificent.

�� Draco bent
down, exhaling on the side of Harry�s neck. �Give me permission to bite you,�
he whispered. His eyelashes were fluttering, and vivid pain cut through him
from his sides. Desire, thicker than the pain, urged him on. �One last time.�

�� Harry
laughed. �Why should I, Malfoy?�

�� Draco
forced his eyes open, though they were so heavy and languorous it was hard to
do so. But if he looked at Harry directly, then Harry was more likely to
believe him. Mortals were like that. �Because the only reason you�ve won
against me, lasted to try this trick against me, is because of the Dark magic
from the ritual empowering you,� he said simply. �You haven�t won honestly, on
your own, anymore than you did against the Collector.�

�� Harry�s
eyes flared with surprise as bright as hatred. He reached up, felt around, and
found the crown with its roots planted into his ears. The stems whispered
against his palm. Draco opened his mouth to warn him, but Harry simply cursed
and yanked the entire thing out by the roots, instead of separating them
individually the way that Draco had planned to do. The sane way. The safe way.

�� Harry
promptly arched his neck back and screamed.

�� Puffs of
silvery smoke mixed with blood rolled out of his ears. The magic was not
physical, but the hold it had begun to establish was. Worse, some of those
roots had gone into his magical core. Harry was bleeding power now as fast he
was losing blood.

�� You�ll
die,� Draco said, his voice sweet and ruthless, his fear for his Long-Desired
locked away behind his fascination and devotion. Harry was so powerful. Draco could see himself
submitting if Harry demanded that, because Harry was beautiful and savage
enough to deserve the conquest. �You�ll no longer be a wizard even if you
survive. You�re losing your magic.� He slid his folded fingers tenderly down
Harry�s cheek, pressing in a heavy furrow. The edge of one of Harry�s ribs was
slicing into his lungs now. �Unless you let me drink your blood and use your
magic to heal you. You can�t use it to heal yourself. You�re bleeding.�

�� I can�I
can�� But Harry�s eyes were the ones fluttering this time, and he moaned when
he tried to summon the easy power the Dark magic had given him before. The
smoke rising from his ears was black now, the color of the blood he would cough
up from internal injuries.

�� You
can�t.� Draco kissed his cheek with closed lips, then kissed it with a fang,
and more blood, drawn by him, ran out
to join the painted mask stretched across Harry�s face. That would serve well for
a mark on his Long-Desired for the moment. Draco was wise enough not to try and
press further until he had permission. �Your survival depends on me. And it�s
your survival that matters most to you, isn�t it?�

�� Killing
vampires matters most.� Harry returned Draco�s gaze with one so haughty and so
magnificent that Draco�s hips moved entirely of their own free will, rising and
grinding down into the body beneath him. The ribs pressed inwards again,
slicing into his chest cavity and his own ribs. He almost wanted to let them,
almost wanted to let them press him into Harry so that they could die as one
person. Only the thought of the pleasure and the power that would come from the
blood kept him from letting that happen.

�� But you
must be alive to do it,� Draco whispered. �Otherwise, it�s only one more kill in
a short record, instead of the long, long list you could have.� He licked
Harry�s cheek this time, though the blood he drew up was only blood until Harry
gave his permission. �Live, Harry, and hunt, and kill. If you let me.�

*

�� Harry had
not known that so much pain could exist in the world.

�� It was as
if he were a cup with a crack in the side, pouring forth the liquid that he existed
only to hold. Nothing mattered compared with the loss of his magic. If he
lived, he would be a Muggle. He knew it as though he had seen a scroll written
in the hand of a god telling him so.

�� And he
could not bear that. He knew he would kill himself without his magic, and
without the things that his magic let him do. Such as hunt vampires.

�� He had been
stupid. He had used a Dark magic ritual�the image of the pinned hawk was
blazing in his mind, afire with guilt, right next to the pain that came from
his magic fleeing his body�and then not even thought about the consequences
when he tried to deal with the waste products from that ritual. He might
possibly kill Malfoy, but he would die himself.

�� That had
seemed like such an easy outcome to imagine only a short time ago.

�� But he was
in pain, and Malfoy offered him a way out�a way that would let him keep his
magic. He felt, too, as though he had awakened from a mad dream where he
thought it justifiable to torture an animal and keep it alive for hours. That
was the sort of thing vampires did with humans, not what vampire hunters did to
other living creatures.

�� So much had
gone wrong. He was not who he had been.

�� And he
would never be again if he didn�t accept Malfoy�s offer.

�� He
swallowed and tilted his head to the side. �Please,� he said, right before
murmuring the command word that would pull his ribcage back from cutting Malfoy
in half and fold it into his chest again.

�� Malfoy�s
gaze was red and grey now. He reached out, cradling Harry�s cheek, and
whispered, �I am the perfect companion for you.�

�� Harry
snorted. �I�m dying here, Malfoy, in case you missed it,� he said. �Splashing
the power that you want all over the floor. Perhaps you could make your speech
at some other time?�

�� Only I
know the darkness as well as you do,� Malfoy pursued his theme, ignoring
Harry�s words. �Only I can follow you this far down. Only I can suffer the pain
that you inflicted on me and still think you worth dying for.� He purred and
lapped at the side of Harry�s throat. His breath still continued to smell sweet
and bloody instead of grave-stricken. �Only I can understand the impulses that
drive you.�

�� Yes, yes,
you�ve compared vampire hunters to vampires before,� Harry said. He thought he
could feel his magical core fluttering open and shut now, no longer a cracked
glass but a�a dying hawk. There wasn�t enough power left in him to give it form
and definition. �Can you please get on
with things?�

�� Malfoy slipped
his hand behind Harry�s head and held it motionless. �Not just vampires,� he
said. �Not just vampire hunters. I admire
what you have done, do you hear me, Harry? The way you killed the
Collector. The way you tried to kill me. The way you tried to break free of the
bond.� His voice sank as Harry stared up at him in shock. �Not the results, but
the darkness that drove you. Fall as far as you like. I will never be far from
your side, so that I may lend you my strength and my wings.�

�� And he bit
down before Harry could ask any of the obvious questions.

*

�� Harry�s
blood was joy.

�� Draco could
feel it racing and coiling through his body, beginning with the burst of
pleasure in his mouth like biting down on a ripe fruit, continuing with the
flare of sunlight in his throat, ending with the delight like a flapping of
wings as he gained the strength to knit his bones and muscles back into a
semblance of normality. And then Harry moaned in his arms, tilting back his
head as his eyes went glassy and he began to pant, and the pleasure became
deeper. Draco brushed his cock against Harry�s belly, against the wound in
Harry�s belly, smearing blood.

�� Then he
wielded the magic like an invisible whip, and where he brought it down to
strike Harry�s body, the wounds began to vanish.

�� His belly,
his mouth, his toes, his face, his legs. Draco touched each of them with his
merciless beneficence, and they healed themselves. Then he pressed his hands
against Harry�s ears and prepared to reach inwards to his magical core.

�� Harry was
writhing against him by now, consumed from the inside out by pleasure. He
paused, though, when he felt Draco�s fingers curl around his ears, as though he
suspected this would hurt.

�� I will
make it beautiful for you,� Draco whispered, �because you are beautiful, my
killer.� And he bit down on Harry�s right earlobe, drew in the blood, and
tossed himself into the midst of a stream of power.

*

�� The
pleasure was immolating Harry.

�� Harry
twisted and curled and thrashed like a worm on a hook, trying to get away from
it. It didn�t matter. The pleasure followed him no matter how far down he fled,
the same way that Malfoy had promised to fall with him into the darkness no
matter what happened.

�� His nerves
woke up and tingled in a way that they hadn�t since Ginny�s death. He found
himself craving the sight of sunlight for its own sake, of sunsets for other
reasons than because it would signal the beginning of a hunt, of meadows
rippling down to the sea. Nothing had been beautiful to him since he had to
sacrifice Ginny. Now, he thought things could be.

�� Harry had
laughed when Hermione suggested, years ago, that love from someone else might
help to heal him and put him back on the right path. And he was still right. It
wasn�t love that he needed to redeem him. It was something stronger, something
rougher�

�� Something
infinitely more pleasurable.

�� Something
that crawled into the darkness with him and wouldn�t flinch, wouldn�t pull
back, the way that Hermione and Ron would do when they understood the depths of
what he was.

�� Which they
would have the chance to do, Harry decided, reaching up to curl his arms around
Malfoy�s neck and revel in the sudden flush of magic that poured back into him
and revived the dying hawk, filled and repaired the cracked glass, pushed him
off a cliff and drowned him in a torrent and ate him with a shark�s jaws. He
wanted to go back to them again. He wanted to do something more than simply
pretend to be healing, the way he had done with Hermione so far. He would give
them the chance to understand him, and if they rejected him, at least they
would do it because of the full knowledge of what he had done.

�� Malfoy�s
power tossed him high, whirling with him through a forest of glittering obsidian
trees.

�� No, not
just Malfoy�s power, Harry realized slowly, it had to be slowly, because the
realization had to struggle through jagged black flashes of pleasure in order
to reach him. His. Malfoy had taken
his magic and was feeding it back to him, so it was really Harry who was
healing himself, redeeming himself, pulling himself back from the brink.

�� Without
help. Or with the help of someone who wouldn�t have been able to do it without
Harry.

�� Harry
laughed smugly. It seemed that he had triumphed in this contest with Malfoy
after all, though certainly not in any way he had suspected would happen.

�� The world
surged around him, and he found himself lying once more on the floor beneath
Malfoy, those red-grey eyes staring into his, a knee pressing steadily down
between his legs, those cruel hands gripping and holding his ears. Harry took a
deep breath, knowing on instinct that no more magic bled out of him now.

�� Pleasure
squeezed him as if Malfoy had his own trick of extending his ribs and trying to
cut people in half.

�� Harry
gasped and clutched at Malfoy, shutting his eyes. He did not like to see the
person he was rutting with, still, but he couldn�t back away from it. This was need stabbing into him, slicing into
him, making him picture heated hands on flesh and teeth on necks and cocks
vanishing into arses�

�� Well, maybe I can�t escape from the person
I�m rutting with by closing my eyes, after all.

�� Because he
didn�t intend to be a coward and because he wasn�t one to deny the inevitable
when trying to do so made him into a monster, Harry defiantly opened his eyes.

�� The orgasm
that gripped him when he looked at Malfoy was like the ending of the world,
hurling him through flame and darkness and blood into silence.

*

�� Draco felt
himself coming at last, which he could only tell was happening because it was slightly more shattering than the
experience of drinking Harry�s blood and sharing magic with him.

�� He
shuddered, his body arching and surging against Harry�s, and then he rolled
down beside him and nuzzled into his shoulder. His arms remained tightly
wrapped around Harry�s torso. There was no way that he could let him go, not
now. He thought he might hold onto until he collapsed into the death that would
come with the sunrise.

�� Harry
turned his head and stared at him. Draco forced his eyes open with an effort so
that they could exchange a glance.

�� Harry still
held darkness in his gaze, and rage, and hatred. But he had pride, too. He
would not run from any danger, and he wanted to understand this thing that had
happened between them, control it.

�� There was
another emotion in his gaze, too, but Draco didn�t understand it until Harry
said, in a voice flat with wonder, �You saved my life. Not your own. You could
have survived what I was doing to you. I wouldn�t have.�

�� Yes,�
Draco said simply, watching him, absorbing him.

�� Vampires
don�t do that,� Harry said.

�� Draco
curled up next to Harry, though he left a hand on his shoulder, without
speaking, for an answer. Harry looked at the hand, and then at him, and set his
jaw.

�� But he made
no attempt to move away.

�� Things had
changed, now. Draco was certain of it. A corner had been turned. Harry would
still fight, and he would still try to ensure that nothing Draco wanted was
simply given to him; he was envisioning taking things from Draco instead of the
exchange Draco planned to make of their bond.

�� But as long
as Harry had evidence that did not fit into his neat little world of selfish,
evil vampires and pure, good mortals, then that world had been shattered, and he
had to step away from the ruins and try to build a new one.

�� More than
content�contentment was for those petty little souls who did not have what he
had�Draco closed his eyes.

*

�� JtheChosen1:
No, although I think that would be interesting! Instead, the magic, if it had
worked, would simply have made him have hawk�s blood.

�� Snivelly:
Thank you! And Harry might have considered trying to force his way into ending
the bond still, but he�s horrified by what the ritual made him become. So he
would have to find a way of breaking the bond that didn�t involve Dark magic�and
there isn�t one.

�� rafiq: Thank
you!

�� jenny:
Thank you!

�� thrnbrooke:
Draco stopped the breaking of the bond.

�� Sp777: Sorry!
I can�t do that. But if it helps, it�s guilt about what he did to the hawk that
is going to make Harry turn around.

�� mrequecky:
Thank you!

�� dana_aeryn:
Thank you so much! This chapter is definitely meant as a turning point for
Harry, because for once he�s taken an action (torturing the hawk) that he can�t
retroactively justify to himself. He�s at least willing to consider that Draco,
who brought him back from the brink, might be able to help him somehow. At the
moment, he doesn�t feel the devotion that Draco does, but that could change,
too.
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The Long-Desired