Tarnished Lion | By : InvidiaRed Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 56639 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10 |
Disclaimer: I make no money off of this fanfiction. Harry Potter and its world isn't mine. Any and all resemblance is entirely coincidental. Again, All fun and practice. |
Draco Malfoy stirred softly as he sat up in his bed. The lights revealed every part of the room. Decadent Egyptian green cotton sheets covered his legs.
There was a figure with his back to him. Wand pointing at the door, familiar dark locks, a seeker build covered in grime. Realization slowly trickled into his waking mind.
Patches and slits riddled, and then the smell of sweat and fire assaulted his nose.
Draco wanted to open his mouth but couldn't find the strength; his tongue went dry and limp.
"I... Am...The Boy... Who Lived."
Harry Potter was in his room. Bloody Harry Potter!!! In his room!
Draco desperately looked for his wand and that is when he saw it.
Harry had tattoos peeking out through the damaged clothes. Draco beheld a black lion on his rival's back.
"You have tatoos!"
Draco's voice sounded rough. Harry's shoulders tightened for a moment. Harry snorted loudly as he turned, and those emerald green eyes seemed to glow direly in the ambient light.
"When you face a dragon. You might as well." Harry shrugged as he waved his wand.
"Reparo!" Draco watched as the spell-damaged clothes slowly fixed themselves. Concealing the tattoos from sight.
Draco watched him and despaired as he felt utterly naked by his lack of a wand. He would need to buy another.
"Your father must really like you." Harry muttered, "Of course." Draco smiled.
The Malfoy family had always been close.
"Yes, I figured." Harry Potter shrugged offhandedly as he put his wand away.
"I was talking with Arthur Weasley." Harry smiled. "Ron might be a prat, but his father has never done me wrong." Harry sheathed his wand.
Draco suppressed the urge to sneer. It was weird enough that his rival was in his room trying to make conversation.
"You've missed a bit, The trio has reached its end."
"He is a prefect now." Draco stated, Harry's dark brows raised. "As are you."
"I owe you thanks if nothing else." Draco rubbed his arms to feel the comfort of his bedclothes' dark, silken threads.
"Why are you here?" Draco demanded, and Harry sat down on the bed next to him.
Draco shivered as those glinting eyes behind those glasses seemed to shine an eerie green. Draco blinked offhandedly, and the glow was gone.
"Draco our rivalry has to end. It is too dangerous now and the distraction could very well put both of us here or in the ground."
"You can ignore me or listen. There is a dark witch at hogwarts now and she will not hesitate to hurt anyone who gets in her way."
Draco's brows raised. " And what shall I look for then?" The haughty words came freely.
Harry looked at him and chuckled. Goosebumps raced down his back, and Draco almost jumped.
"Draco. She's wearing Pink." Draco could feel his heart race, and he gulped as he realized Harry was so close that he could feel his heat.
Draco laughed loudly. It was laughable that the ministry would ever allow a dark witch to be within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts! Not with his father on the board.
Harry wasn't laughing. The severe look he received caused his laughter to falter like a broom with a dying flight charm.
"Impossible!" Draco refuted easily.
"Is it?" Harry challenged softly. Those gleaming emerald eyes stared deeply into his grey own.
"Father, would not allow it." Harry blinked and leaned in. Draco shirked away from his rival.
"What are you-" Draco protested.
"You don't remember." Hurt welled up inside that voice as Harry got up and took a step.
"Us."
Draco's face flushed as Harry's shoulders wracked with a loud sob.
"There was no US!" Draco stated loudly... Right? A needle of doubt twinged his heart.
He didn't remember... Things. That ugly sobbing was wrong.
Draco was sure he couldn't forget something like that.
Harry messily rubbed his face. Sooty dirt covered his face as he straightened.
"You wanted it to be quiet," Harry whispered so softly that Draco could barely hear the words. Harry half turned to gaze at him.
Guilt reared its ugly head for a moment.
"With you Potty?"
Draco sneered, and Harry chuckled for a moment.
"I didn't care that you weren't endowed." Harry retorted flatly.
Draco put his hands between his legs and then threw his blanket over them.
"How dare y-" A damnable smile graced that handsome face as Harry Potter looked down at him.
"You didn't either." Harry stated. Draco flushed, "I'm seeing Pansy." He protested.
He swallowed darkly as Harry tilted his head... And then Harry's thigh visibly twitched. A small dot of wetness dyed the material darker than the rest.
Draco's grey eyes widened, and he shrank back as far as the bed would allow.
Harry devilishly followed his gaze downward.
"You can touch it if you want."
"Oh wait. You forgot all about it."
Harry covered it with a hand and turned around.
"Its too big." Draco said in awe.
"It may have eluded you, Draco. I'm a man."
Harry's voice deepened, rough, and intoxicating. A shiver raced down Draco's spine.
It was as if he was at a cliff's edge, and the wind kicked up.
"You don't get to tease me about it. Not when you used both hands!"
Draco felt hot as the blood raced south.
"I guess this is goodbye Draco." Harry said as he half-turned with a sad smile. Harry began to step awat as Draco's heart panged
"Wait."
Draco's voice came out rough. Draco grimaced and looked away as he couldn't bear to look at Harry.
"You don't have to leave. Not yet."
"Please."
Escaped his lips. Draco felt confusion lapping at his shores, and he felt like he was about to drown. An empty lack of memory.
He didn't remember.
There was no way that Harry and he...
Draco clutched his head, and he felt a finger on his lips.
Draco felt the broiling heat wafting off Harry. He didn't know!
Had he forgotten? Truly?
Harry was suddenly directly bedside.
"Shhh!" Harry shushed him gently as his other hand audibly pushed the button free.
Draco leaned towards Harry, and he saw that Harry had no underwear up close.
"You don't need to think. Draco. Just feel."
Harry rasped as his trousers drooped. Harry's massive wand flopped out wetly.
A deep primal scent assaulted Draco's nostrils muskily.
Draco felt like he was going to drown.
"You don't have to worry about a thing Draco. No more fear, Just Obeisance," Harry rasped deeply.
"Obedience?" Draco felt like he swallowed cotton.
Harry groaned and shushed him.
"Obeisance! Stupid Boy."
Embarrassment flushed through him as Harry reprimanded him even as he brought his wand to bear.
Draco gaped at the massive male specimen. Draco breathed on it, and Harry lifted his face towards the ceiling and sighed.
Draco watched as the world shrank as that prick took up his undivided attention.
He felt like he'd been blown off the cliff side. Draco leaned and kissed the weeping tip. The moment his lips touched that warm tip.
He shivered and tried to bring his head back. A dob of blackness touched his tongue. He didn't need to think as the blackness surged inside him.
He was grey beneath a rampaging tidal wave. Of neither! Light nor Dark.
Draco felt nauseous as the dark took root.
Draco drowned.
The Minister of Magic scattered the parchment on his desk with a flick of his wand before he held his head in his hands.
Immediate Order to use ministry resources to suppress knowledge of a dangerous curse Deglubere!
With his signature proudly signed at the bottom.
He felt useless. Dumbledore was a blight on him and his career! He was the prime Minister! He was the head of the Ministry of Magic!
And yet...
And yet...
Dumbledore surpassed him still. How had he not seen the signs?
How had a lord been right beside him all the while? No, Fudge froze in terror. Dumbledore had ensnared them all! The puppetmaster in his webs of lies.
There was a knock on the door.
The Minister of Magic let out a breath he hadn't been holding. There was only one autonomous branch of the ministry. The one, the only!
Those forbidden to speak of their work at all costs.
"Broderick Bode is dead, and none of you care." Minister Fudge stilled as the top secret wizard slammed at the stack of parchment and an incredibly ancient tome.
"Professor Croaker, You were the only one still at work," Fudge stated, unsettled, before the professor gave him a disgusted look of contempt that froze his blood for a moment.
"I saw the qudditch world cup with him. He was a working partner of decades. And you Minister have the nerve to ask me to pause my research and for what? Something an intern could fetch!"
"Tragic Demise of Ministry of Magic Worker."
Croaker spat, and the Minister of magic flinched at the daily prophet's headline.
"Uh." The Minister of Magic drew himself up. "Take tomorrow off and relax."
"Piss off!" The door resounded as it slammed behind the unspeakable wizard.
Minister Fudge gingerly prodded the ancient book; tomes, in general,, were only sometimes safe. Nor were unspeakables to be interrupted lightly.
Nobody wanted a magical catastrophe cause someone to distract them at the wrong time.
Minster Fudge paced around his desk. That accursed headmaster in his thoughts. He wanted his job and wanted to be the Minister of magic.
He paced thrice; he was many things, but foolish he was not. That the old codger was a lord... A lord!
Well, there was only one Minister of Magic! Cornelius Oswald Fudge Order of Merlin First Class.
He was not going to be intimidated by some doddering old fool! He froze. The power that Dumbledore had unleashed was not parlor tricks.
His shoulders sagged; he couldn't contend with a lord who legitimately had cause to duel him to the death. Lords were not like wizards.
The fire crackled in the fireplace behind his magnificent desk. It repelled the cold.
"Perhaps." Minister Fudge whispered as he made his way behind it and tapped a hidden compartment with his wand. There was a soft click as he placed his wand upon it for a moment and placed it beside his ink quill. Its decadent plumage soothed him.
Its what he deserved being Minister of Magic after all.
He could make peace with Dumbledore. He still had hope.
There was a pile of parchment containing the incident about the industrial warehouse.
But would it be enough to get Dumbledore to forgive him? He shook his head and piled them together with trembling fingers, and straightened them up.
The second option was more of a gamble. Dumbledore hated him and wanted his position as Minister of Magic!!! Perhaps!
Maybe, Just Maybe, there was another lord on the way.
He half turned, half leaned back.
He observed the parchment in his hands as he made his way to the fireplace. He shook for a moment.
He dearly hoped he was right, he had never been a serious gambler.
He tossed the parchments into the flames immediately, they began to blacken and curl. He was the Minister of Magic!
If he could not trust the scheming of one old codger. Then, he and the ministry would be better off in the hands of a new lord.
A rising lord.
Supposedly, the signs were there. Supposedly, Fudge didn't want to put stock in hearsay.
...
Surely,...
Cornelius Oswald Fudge could get a better deal with this secretive one hiding in the shadows.
The deaths of a few Aurors at Azkaban, deaths at Knock Turn Alley, and the murder of Narcissa. The wife of his biggest financial supporter.
It had to mean something. Right?
Lean on this rising Lord, and they'd do what the ministry demanded because they owed the ministry of magic.
Was that not diplomacy? Was that not politics?
Hiding them away from the sight of Dumbledore?!
There was a knock at the door. Cornelius Oswald Fudge sat at his desk for a moment.
"Come in."
He sighed as he turned his attention away from that irksome and horrid Lord. Dumbledore was yet to be Minister of Magic, but he held all the cards!
"Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic." He proclaimed and sighed as the pink thing waddled proudly into his office.
She perked up and sat down in the seat opposite him. It did not matter what she dressed like. She got results.
"Dolores, it's about time for you to return to Hogwarts." Fudge stated as he watched the dismay crawl over that toadish face.
"You have your tasks and after careful consideration." He sighed as he held his hands.
"And I have mine. You were right Dolores!" He admitted. It was a bitter pill to swallow. The casual disloyalty of ministry employees was concerning.
No wonder Dumbledore had found it so easy to infiltrate the very halls of the ministry.
The ministry of magic was riddled with disloyal parasites feeding off the ministry, feeding off him.
Weakening him one mosquito bite at a time. To choose a Lord over him was displeasing.
He would show them; he would show them all!
"Is it time to purge the ministry?" Dolores clapped her hands eagerly.
There was another knock at the door. "Almost senior undersecretary. We are just waiting for the Junior Assistant." His smile did not reach his eyes.
Weasleys were far too indoctrinated by Dumbledore. To them, he could do no wrong.
"Ah, There you are Percy. We have work to do! The door locked automatically as the red-haired man stood at the side of the desk. Professionally dressed as the junior assistant ought to be.
"Now, now we don't have time for formalities, Percy! The ministry is in danger of an uprising!"
The Junior Assistant was unfortunately estranged from the cult of Dumbledore that had claimed his family. This meeting was merely a formality.
The ministry required deworming. To prune the dangers from its body before it succumbed to Dumbledore's cancer!
It took a while for Minister Fudge to remember how to correctly use the words.
"The Principal Agitator has caused unforeseen circumstances." Cornelius Oswald Fudge said, even if it was an understatement. One hell of an understatement. A lord could air his grievance and challenge the Minister of magic to a duel to the death.
Cornelius Oswald Fudge was a powerful wizard, but he was nowhere near Dumbledore's caliber. He couldn't imagine defeating Grindelwald, and he was sure Dumbledore would reduce him to a smear of a person upon the floor in short order.
They'd have to pull back a bit. With Dolores at Hogwarts, however, their plan to save the ministry was free to continue with all eyes on the school. Fudge had the free reign at the ministry, and his reforms would have push back, but by the time wizarding society realized how close they'd been to a bloodless coup he will have succeded.
Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Order of Merlin First Class! would save them this dishonor, and he'd be given another for keeping the wizarding world from the depredations of a duplicitous lord!
Was he not the most extraordinary Minister of magic?? Was he not kind and generous?!
"Hem hem." The mousy-haired, squat, short woman in a pink cardigan coughed with a little neck and graciously brought his attention back to where it was needed.
He blinked, Hogwarts had made her... stronger?
"Tell me Dolores how are the other Agitators that endanger all of polite wizarding society are."
Those pink lips frowned before her sugary voice appeared.
"Ah, The failed graduate-" She pouted momentarily before her smile resumed. "Has no prospects after graduation, I'm afraid. Poor thing seems to think the principal agitator will be able to get him employment."
"He's far too close to Dumbledore and his rabid gang of agitators." She shrugged sadly.
"Its a pity, I was told he had the skill for a ministry position. Let's have a moment of silence for wayward youth." Fudge Lamented.
"Ah. Youth is wasted on the young." Dolores Umbridge nodded eagerly.
"No matter! A waste is a waste when corruption pollutes the young!" Cornelius Oswald Fudge crowed.
"What of the boy who lied?"
Minister Fudge grimaced the one who fanned the flames and allowed Dumbledore the opportunity to poison the wizarding world with his venom against him! The truth was the truth! The Dark Lord was not back! This was the truth of the matter. The stark truth that those puppets refused to see.
Did the little bastard even begin to understand the sheer damage the boy who lied had done to the ministry?! That boyish irresponsibility had undone so much goodwill.
Wizards and witches spat at the feet of ministry officials. Part of the Minister knew that Harry had to have been put up to it... By Dumbledore. How could any of them just allow this old bastard to poison the mind of such a young celebrity?
Too many had been blinded by Dumbledore's radiant light. They couldn't see how maligned the old codger was!
Dolores Jane Umbridge went silent.
"He's like a ghost." She answered uncomfortably.
Cornelius Oswald Fudge's brow furrowed, and he repeated it.
"A ghost?" The Minister of Magic replied.
She nodded. "He shows up to classes. He won't go near his friends. Has all but dropped out of quidditch. Keeping track of him is difficult!"
"He hasn't displayed a single reason for detention!" She stated somberly.
Silence descended for a moment, and then Percy broke it. It hit like a sudden revelation.
"It could be possible that Harry and Dumbledore are not as close as we believe." Minister Fudge felt breathless for a moment. It was almost too much to believe.
"We do have to keep that possibility open. The Principal Agitator could have alienated him. It would explain his distance from his compromised friends. "
Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic Order of Merlin First Class, allowed time to digest the sheer importance of this possibility.
"Dolores." He began.
"We must not allow this opportunity to pass us by. Do what must be done if its possible. I have full faith in your ability to sus out the truth!"
She gulped like a toad but nodded reluctantly.
The complicit collaboration continued on. Collusion wouldn't sit well with the uninformed rabble.
What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them!
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