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The End Shall Come, And We Will Dance Forever	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimers: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, and Warner Bros. I make nothing from this. In fact, I lose money to write this, so… no suing, ‘kay?

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Title: The End Shall Come and We Will Dance Forever

Author: Makoto Sagara

Series: Harry Potter

Archive: fanfiction.net, afallenangel.net/makotosagara/, mediaminer.org, Foreverfandom.net, makochanupdates.livejournal.com, hpfandom.net, adult-fanfiction.org; anywhere else, please ask

Category: Angst, Drama

Pairings: Eventual HP/DM, Some RW/HG, others possible

Warnings: Angst, language, OOC, 7th year timeline based upon OotP – Disregarding HBP and DH
Disclaimers: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, and Warner Bros. I make nothing from this. In fact, I lose money to write this, so… no suing, ‘kay?
A/N: Ugh, I hate writing Lucius and Voldemort, just so you know. That scene was rewritten three separate times before I didn’t want to scratch out my eyes. MANY thanks go to Fallen Angel for all of her help, or I’d be blind. =P Remember to R&R, yes? Muses are taking to this like nothing else and I’m starting to get worried. >>

Chapter Five – Frowning Like Hell

“Draco – I need not tell you to rid yourself of this letter as soon as you read it. I only have one piece of advice from here on out. Trust no one but Potter. – S”

Draco blinked as he looked over the letter. He knew whom it was from. Really, there was no other person it could be from. And it didn’t matter that the little messenger that delivered it was a filthy, scraggly grey puff of feathers covering his room in mud and water droplets. Snape was warning him.

However, his godfather had disappeared months ago. Why was he sending this all of a sudden? Their relationship had been strained since his father’s arrest and imprisonment at the end of fifth year, and had only gotten worse in sixth year after Lucius returned home to rule with an iron fist and Voldemort, Aunt Bella and Uncle Rudolphus as permanent house guests.

And why was he telling him to trust Potter of all people? Why not Dumbledore? Why not… no, wait - he knew why Severus wasn’t telling him to trust Lucius.

And as much as the letter disturbed him, the presence of an unconscious Potter in his bed, still in a Full-Body Bind, unsettled him even more.

He’d been sleeping there for the last two hours. The blond knew he should have taken the Golden Boy to Madam Pomfrey, but then he would have had to explain what happened, and then it would have gotten back to the Gryffindors. And that was something that the Slytherin was not doing. He’d have better luck just waiting until Potter woke up, explaining to him and then getting him the hell out of his life.

All of a sudden, the Gryffindor moaned, a low, primal sound that made Draco uncomfortable. He was severely regretting taking the Silencing Charm off and wondered if he should recast it when another moan slipped from Harry’s pink lips, the sound making Draco tremble with desire. Who knew the Gryffindor Golden Boy could sound so deliciously wanton?

His thoughts were brought to a screeching halt as green eyes flew open and met his own. And then, it felt like all hell broke loose.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His head felt like someone had stepped on it with cement shoes on. He knew he’d had a vision of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Bellatrix – that bitch – had been torturing Avery for some misdeed. And Lucius had given Voldemort a letter from… Draco. His head gave a massive twinge at that memory and he slowly took a deep breath to calm himself. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move his arms or legs.

And the last thing he remembered before the vision was talking to his rival in the hallways. He groaned as he realized that he’d been bound before slitting his eyes open.

He had no clue where he was. It certainly wasn’t his room in Gryffindor Tower, the Infirmary or the hall he’d probably passed out in. The walls were the dank, damp, dark stones that could only mean the dungeons. And the bed – who the hell owns this… oh, shit! – was covered in green and silver curtains, with incredibly sensual silk black sheets with matching duvet.

With another groan, he opened his eyes completely and found Draco Malfoy sitting in a desk chair, staring at him intently. He was in Malfoy’s room, in his bed, and while part of him was starting to wonder what was going to happen – the really sick part, he thought – the rest of him was trying to break out of the bonds and find out what the fuck was going on. “Where the hell am I, Malfoy?”

“Well, after our extremely intelligent conversation earlier, Potter, you passed out in the hallway. I would have left you there, but then you began screaming and thrashing about,” the blond drawled, his voice not quite up to par to instill disgust and anger. “I was tempted to go about my way. However, I knew your little friends would think I’d done something to you, since Weasel decided to accost me in that hallway. I couldn’t take the chance.”

“That doesn’t explain where the hell I am, Malfoy,” Harry said through clenched teeth, struggling against the bonds. “And why the hell I’m trussed up like a Christmas goose.”

“Again, Potter, you were thrashing about.” Grey eyes closed and Harry watched as the other boy’s chest heaved a few times in deep breathing. “I should have just left you there, but you were bleeding from your bloody scar.”

“Release me, you prat.” He was surprised at the level tone he was keeping. Malfoy’s not like Voldemort. I can keep my cool. I can keep my cool. I can deal with this rationally. He watched the other boy open his eyes again and felt his heart begin pounding. Maybe… I think. “Please.”

Draco slashed his wand with a quick Finite Incatatum and suddenly Harry had all the feeling back in his body. Unfortunately, most of his nerves felt as if there were hot pokers digging in for the long haul. Carefully, he sat up and put a hand to his hot forehead, noticing the suspicious lack of blood around his distinctive lightning bolt scar. “I thought you said I’d been bleeding.”

“Obviously, I cleaned it up.” The blond’s tone was haughty and demeaning. “I didn’t want you to stain my bedding. Blood really is difficult to get out and I don’t want to make any more work for the house elves than is necessary.”

“Where am I?” Harry asked for the third time, ignoring how his cheeks were flushing as the other boy continued to coolly stare at him. “What have you done to me, Malfoy?”

“You are in my rooms in the Slytherin dungeons. It was closer than anywhere else. And since I have no roommates, it was the safest place to take you.” The blond was obviously trying to portray himself as bored, but there was an edginess that made Harry ill-at-ease. “Besides binding and silencing you to avoid being thrashed or caught before we arrived, I’ve done nothing.”

“And?”

“There is no ‘and’, Potter. Now, if you’re feeling well, please go away.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and carefully readjusted his glasses so that they were no longer falling off of his nose. “Aren’t you curious as to what happened?” he asked.

“I have no desire to keep you here longer than you already have been. If you don’t mind,” Draco said icily, “and even if you do, I have homework to catch up on. Leave.”

“Thank you,” he said, standing and fixing his clothes as well. He kept his eyes on the other boy, however, knowing full well that in his vision, Malfoy had sent his father a letter that hadn’t gone over too well with Voldemort. For some reason, he felt in his gut that not all was what it seemed, but he wasn’t sure what was really true either. So, instead of taking the piss out of Malfoy for being helpful, he left.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry took a deep breath as he wandered down the hallways from the dungeons back towards Gryffindor Tower. They were unusually quiet, but then he remembered that it was a Hogsmeade weekend and that most of the students were probably down in the town, enjoying the beautiful autumn afternoon sun. Slowly, he remembered that he’d declined going down to the village with the others because of the overwhelming press he felt to be alone.

Things with Ron and Hermione weren’t well, not in the least. Ron and he had never really recovered from the tournament debacle from fourth year. The redhead may have been the one thing Harry would miss the most during the second task – at the time – but things were different two and a half years later. And Hermione… well… She’d become a shrew. Every time the girl opened her mouth, it was “Dumbledore this”, “McGonagall that”, or (Harry’s personal favorite) “shouldn’t you think this through? You don’t want to be rash.” Her face would pinch up most unattractively and her hands would rest on her hips. Again, self-control was the reason that he still had friends.

When he and Ginny had dated (albeit briefly) the year before, Ron had gotten stiff and rather nasty. How Harry wished to tell his best friend that he hadn’t done anything to “sweet, innocent Ginny”. Damn it all, she was the one who showed him how to kiss properly and how to get each other off without making a scene, both in the very public common room and a few abandoned classrooms and hallways. In fact, the first person to touch his body sexually was his baby sister. And she’d started it!

Harry growled in frustration as he remembered the way her hands used to caress, stroke and pet his body, the way she would get a wicked gleam in her eyes before she dropped to her knees and pushed his robes aside to give him a blowjob. Not that that was any information he was going to be sharing with Ron, or anyone else for that matter.

And then, out of the blue, Ginny had approached him last year in May, a look on her face that he knew was trouble. The first thing out of her mouth had been that she’d enjoyed their time together, but she just didn’t feel that way about him anymore. Calmly, while he stood as still as death, she explained that she and Luna were much more compatible and that she was sorry for any pain he’d feel, but she couldn’t stay with him. And somehow, it hadn’t hurt as much as he thought it should have.

That night was the first night that he’d had a dream about a blond in nearly two years. It was the night after that where he discovered that the blond had deliciously pouty lips. And slowly, months came and passed, until two weeks before returning to school, the sexy, talented, witty blond in his dreams morphed into Draco Malfoy.

And what scared him the most was that he didn’t mind that he was having wet dreams about his school rival. Oh, no, it was worse than that. For the last three weeks, he’d been looking forward to going to bed. He would slowly undress until he was in nothing by his boxers, climb into bed, close the curtains (at least once he was back at the dorms), cast a silencing charm, and wait for sleep to claim him. And he always dreamed nowadays. Every night, without exception, Draco showed him immense pleasure while he slept. And he loved it. Very much so.

Waking up in the other boy’s bed was just a step up in his nightly visions, of that he was perfectly sure. He’d go to sleep and dream of those black silk sheets and that sexy aloof look the other boy had worn and he’d orgasm harder than he’d every managed. He just knew it. And he couldn’t wait.

Harry knew that his thoughts were becoming very circular, but he didn’t care. What had it meant that the boy who supposedly hated him hadn’t abandoned him in the hallway, screaming and twitching in pain, but instead had cared for him gently and watched over him until he woke up? Did he-? No, he knew he couldn’t afford to get his hopes up.

Besides, he had to report his vision to Dumbledore. He had to know something about Malfoy. If nothing else, the Headmaster deserved to know that while Snape had turned tail and ran after the horrible confrontation at the end of sixth year that lead to Professor McGonagall’s death, Malfoy was indeed ready to run back to Daddy, and Voldemort in the process, and tell everything.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Something’s wrong with Harry this year, Ron,” Hermione said, pushing strands of her bushy hair behind her ear, even though the brisk wind was making it a futile effort. Her boyfriend walked beside her, his blue eyes hard since his run-in with Malfoy earlier that morning.

“’Mione, he’s been off since Cedric,” Ron stated casually.

“Well, yes, I suppose you are correct,” she answered slowly, her brain trying to process the memories of the last two years. “However, I think it’s gotten worse since Sirius and Professor McGonagall’s deaths. He’s pulled almost completely away. And what happened between him and Ginny?”

“I dunno. She won’t talk about it. Says it’s not my business and to stay away,” he growled, red spots making his freckles almost nonexistent. “Actually, she’s gotten pretty high handed since the whole Department of Mysteries mess.”

“What do you mean?” She sighed happily as Ron slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his body.

“Well, she’s… She won’t really talk about anything personal anymore. It’s worse since she and Harry broke up, and she won’t say what’s wrong.”

“Do you think she’s protecting him from you and your brothers then?” She felt him tense up and regretted her word choice. “I only meant that maybe she doesn’t want you to blame him. They still seem like good friends, if nothing else.”

“I guess, and it’s a good thing in a friend, but it makes my job as her brother harder. I want to know if I have to rough him up a bit for making her cry.”

Hermione giggled as she pulled away and looked up at Ron before they entered The Three Broomsticks. “I doubt that she left any roughing up that needed done to you. She’s perfectly capable of doing that herself.”

“I know that, ‘Mione, but she’s my little sister. I have to defend her honor.”

“Whose?”

Hermione turned and saw the subject of their conversation sitting at a table with Luna, Padma Patil and Neville Longbottom. Suddenly, the older girl felt guilty for talking about Ginny behind her back. “Um, he’s talking about his job as your brother, Gin.”

“Bah,” Ginny said, waving her hand dismissively before taking a drink from her mug of Butterbeer. “I can handle that on my own, brother dear.” The others laughed as Ron flushed momentarily. “Oh, sit down and have a Butterbeer, Ronniekins.” She looked around, her red hair whipping around as she did so. “Where’s Harry? Didn’t he come with you two?”

Hermione sighed heavily. “Harry told us that he wasn’t up to ‘a trip out of the castle’ today.”

“Hm, poor Harry seems to be affected by a Hugglesnort,” Luna said dreamily, leaning her head against Ginny’s shoulder as she smiled at the group.

“What’s a Hugglesnort?” Neville asked as his warm brown eyes scrunched up in concern.

“Oh, well, they are very small creatures that affect those who have suffered losses at an early age,” Luna answered succinctly. Ginny looked at the blonde with obvious affection and Padma looked absolutely riveted as they began to discuss magical creatures, both real and not.

Hermione couldn’t help but look on in avid fascination as the Ravenclaws began to extol the many virtues of the creatures around them, but Ron tuned out the entire conversation, his mind back at the castle with his best friend. It was true that Harry had become more withdrawn since Sirius’ death, and nothing Hermione or he could say could induce the smaller boy to actually confide in them anymore. Of course, they’d been reluctant to listen to him regarding his visions in fifth year or the fact that Voldemort was up to something in their sixth year. And considering that McGonagall’s death was the end result of their lack of faith in him, he wasn’t really surprised that Harry was trying to distance himself from both of them. It just hurt.

However, Ron was determined to try and rectify the situation. But, how was still eluding him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry stood in front of the stone gargoyle that protected Dumbledore’s office and glared at it. He didn’t know the password yet. “Jelly pops.” The statue remained. “Ice Mice… Sugar Quills… Chocolate Frogs… Blood Pops…” The gargoyle leaped to the side and Harry grimaced. Those were perhaps his least favorite candies in the Wizarding World and he couldn’t figure out who would like them, aside from vampire and werewolves, maybe.

Putting aside his distaste, Harry climbed the stairs to the Headmaster’s rooms, unwilling to wait for the revolving to take him to the top. He was surprised to see the door open, but the familiar sight of Fawkes reassured him that some good things still existed.

“Ah, my boy, what can I do for you?” Dumbledore said as he looked up from several parchments that littered his desk.

“Professor, sir, I’ve had a vision,” Harry replied reluctantly as he entered the office and took a seat in front of the Headmaster.

“Ah, well, that is to be expected, I suppose,” the older man said sadly. “How about some tea before we get too far into conversation then?”

Quietly, Harry accepted a dainty china cup and tried to process how he was going to let Dumbledore know exactly what he saw. “Avery failed to recruit Mrs. Zabini, and Voldemort let Bellatrix,” bitch, his mind added, “punish him, but that’s not the worst thing, sir.”

“Hm,” Dumbledore answered, his lips pursed in thought, “continue, please, Harry.”

“Lucius Malfoy showed a letter that Draco wrote to his master,” Harry said with a sneer.

“Oh, did he now?” The old man’s eyes were twinkling for some reason, and that set Harry’s nerves on edge.

“Yeah, he’s got that prat Malfoy spying here in the school and he wants him to get close to you and report everything possible back to Voldemort.”

“And did they happen to mention anything about Severus?”

“No, there was no mention of Professor Snape, sir. Only the letter, Malfoy’s position here, and Avery’s punishment were mentioned.”

“Hm…” The Headmaster steepled his hands in front of his mouth as he thought for a few minutes. Harry couldn’t keep his hands still in his agitation and ended up sitting on them. Malfoy was up to something, and he wanted to know, but the way that Dumbledore was acting made him think he wasn’t going to like what happened next. “What I’m about to tell you, Harry, cannot leave this room. I trust that you can keep your word, my boy?”

“Of course, Professor,” Harry said quickly.

“Mr. Malfoy was in fact sent back to Hogwarts to spy on the happenings here, but mostly with the students, I believe. He approached me himself his first evening back.”

Harry sat still for the first time since entering the office, his mouth opening and shutting in a futile attempt to figure out what the hell he was going to say. “Wha- How- I mean- Huh?”

“I believe Mr. Malfoy’s attitude to be greatly different now that his father is freed from Azkaban than he has previously shown us here around the school.” Dumbledore’s blue eyes were twinkling as they took in Harry’s shell shocked expression. “I trust that you will do everything in your power to help ease his way with the rest of the student body, Harry.”

“I- I- I bloody will not!”

TBC…
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The End Shall Come, And We Will Dance Forever