Memoirs of a Serpent's Son
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
73
Views:
36,442
Reviews:
600
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
73
Views:
36,442
Reviews:
600
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part 71
Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son
Age 17—part 42
March 28
The past ten days in Grimmauld Place have been the most tense yet. The leering promise of a climax to this chaotic war proved to be more than just a shadow hanging over all of our heads. In some ways, the impending end was more frightening than the whole of the war in itself.
The end means the end… without further ado or gilding the lily. That’s it. It promises the finale and a conclusion for everyone, whether we like it or not.
Once that battle is ended –if it really can have an end –the future of the wizarding world will be decided. Either Good will triumph over Evil, much like in children’s storybooks and ancient Fairy tales, and the whole of our world will learn some much deserved lesson about tolerance and acceptance and unity…
Or else Evil will vanquish through the dark and we have nothing more to look forward to but the rise of a red sun and a growing shadow on the horizon… nothing but horror.
We have Hell.
Frankly, I don’t think that anyone from the Order will be able to look at the matter as being so Black and White. Because it’s not. It never was. There is no option where everything is either wholly good or bad… there will always be the presence of both in the world…
Just as the same two traits are always omnipresent in humanity… of any kind. I’m just human… Harry is just human…
Despite his most desperate attempts to reject it, Voldemort is still just human.
And the knowledge of what this war has become –a war between people more than the war of men versus monsters, which is what it seemed before –has changed everyone.
How should we feel? How would you feel if you were told that the evil you have been fighting was planning his final assault on Life by taking on the World of the Dead? How would you feel if you knew that your last battle was going to take place in a world where the slightest mistake could kill you, everything rested on luck and favour and you were constantly surrounded by the lost souls of your loved ones and enemies?
Everyone has seemed both skittish and painfully calm… if that is at all possible. They have the look of death on their faces, as though they know each and every one of them is marked and will not survive this.
I doubt I look much better. Even my greatest talent –my ability to stow away my feelings, my emotions and my thoughts, lock them away in my mind and tear them away from my surface –has been failing me.
Granger has been keeping her nose stuck in a book, her eyes always full of tears, and Weasley has been carefully watching her, holding her tightly with glassy eyes and a look of pure desperation. He keeps looking at her… in such a way that makes you think that he’s trying very hard not to think about the possibility of losing her… but failing miserably.
Tonks gives the same look to Lupin.
Her eyes are always distant as she sits near him and he, through his carefully calm exterior, looks as though he’s crumbling inside. For the first time I’ve ever seen anything of Remus crumble.
No one else could see it, I imagine… but I’m so good at putting on the same face that I know exactly what it looks like when it falters.
I never thought I’d see it.
The She-Weasel has been quiet and distant. Her demeanor is so strange… she’s been spending all her time with Lovegood. She listens intently when the little Ravenclaw explains a complex conspiracy theory dealing with Vampires in the Ministry. Perhaps Luna has the best perspective out of all of us.
She sees the more beautiful details of the world, even if they might not all be true. She told me that she believes things that others don’t, not because there is proof against it, but because there is no proof against it. She has faith in all possibilities… has faith in the imaginable and unimaginable.
I didn’t put much stock in her words at the time, but now I sit and think on it I realize that she likely does know better than anyone else.
Maybe.
Harry, of course, is the worst of all of us. He’s spent most of his time in our room…
He pulled out the mirror that I assume Sirius gave him and has been staring into it, his eyes unfocused on his reflection. He whispers something every so often… it’s always the same thing though…
“How could I forget?” he says in a barely audible tone. “Why couldn’t you talk to me? I wouldn’t have forgotten… how did I forget…”
I get stuck in those moments. I stop moving, my heart stills and I feel the breath catch in my chest as I was him. I’ve never seen him cry for it…
Maybe he just can’t anymore. Or maybe he wants to but the tears won’t come.
I sit with him and hold him when I can… And all I want to do is give him all of me… all my strength and all I have.
I’ve never felt that way before. I’ve never wanted to give myself away for anyone. No one.
But Harry… he demands so little but I want to give him everything. He asks for nothing… just loyalty… just trust… and I want to offer him everything.
I still don’t understand the words that Dumbledore left me with. I thought that all along I had been acting on the direction of my heart, forgetting my head’s better judgment…
But still he said it… he did and I know there is something more to it. More to his words…
……
I only leave our room to bring Harry some lunch or other mindless reasons… Harry only leaves when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley show up with news…. Or when the Aurors or other Order members bring news or the Daily Prophet.
We’ve been checking the damn paper morning, noon and night. To no avail, of course.
The Daily Prophet has reported nothing particularly important. Same old muggle riots in London, though they are winding down.
The same old Auror raids for Death-Eaters and escaped convicts. No arrests.
Minor news on sporadic deaths relating to Death-Eaters or highlighted by the Dark Mark.
But nothing particularly important… nothing to suggest that there was going to be a massive onslaught of chaos… nothing big enough to cover the tracks of a move to penetrate the veils between the worlds.
Nothing of nearly large enough scale for that.
Arthur Weasley reported all types of cursed artifacts, or poisoned goods… all sorts of areas about the wizarding world where massive zones of dark magic reign. There are some places where people will die instantaneously upon entering the area. Some places will turn people inside-out. Others will skin them… or worse, leave their skin and remove their insides.
Some areas will cause people to switch bodies… and some will transfigure people into mangled chimera-like creatures… each just pieces of other beasts put together.
But these places are few and far-between…
In fact, what worries us more is that everything seems too quiet for this point in the war. We’re in the eye of the storm…
The worst of this tempest still lies ahead.
The Weasleys finally got message from Bill in Romania. He investigated his brother Charlie’s actions before his death but found only that he had been inquiring into a case of theft and murder.
Apparently there had been a midnight attack on a Dragon’s protected habitat and several of the Dragons had been slain… drained of their blood and their hearts removed.
My stomach did an awkward churn in my body at hearing that news. I can’t help but feel particularly connected to Dragons… they’ve always been rather fascinating… and what with my name…
Well…
It was upsetting.
To say the least.
Hagrid… the oaf, came over with Aberforth the day after we returned from Hogwarts. He was… mildly surprised to see me here. I suppose that there are Order members who are still uninformed of my location… which is probably a good thing.
There was a minor outburst during which he called me a number of unforgivable names and threatened my life and my soul for what I (allegedly) did to Dumbledore, before Harry and Remus explained the whole matter to him.
At which point he turned a rather interesting shade of maroon and simply nodded to me.
Thanks.
It was on this day that all the Order members (excepting a choice few who could simply not be here –i.e. Bill Weasley, McGonagall, etc.) showed up as well. Kingsley Shacklebolt had made a full recovery and was present, though much against the advice of the Mediwitches, not to mention Tonks and Remus. He refused to be bed-ridden any longer and was intent on fighting with us. He could not remember any direct details of what happened to him, but he claimed that it did not matter at this point. That he was still to fight and he would do so until he had fallen down dead.
Aberforth called everyone into the empty room that Harry and I (along with the others) had been using as a practice arena. He had drawn intricate arrays on the floor in a red paste (which looked suspiciously like blood) and had the lot of us step inside. He, himself, did not join us. He claimed that the caster of this spell had to remain on the side of the Living…
I don’t understand the details, but, ultimately, he could not join us on our trip to the Deathly Hallows.
He proceeded to draw a much smaller array on each of our foreheads (next to Harry’s scar, for him and in the centre of our foreheads for the rest of us) with his wand. Each individual array was different and just as complex as the next. I felt…
Rather awkward.
This had never figured into my father’s use of Blood or Soul Magic. No arrays were ever required or… used. I felt my breathing speed up as he finished the forehead markings and went to stand in front of us all to cast the actual spell.
The sensation of unease only grew as he began with the ancient Latin incantation. I grasped onto Harry’s hand and felt my truncated breaths match the erratic beats of my heart. He squeeze my hand tightly, his face set and determined as his green eyes followed the complex movements of Aberforth’s wand.
I felt the magic as it fell in shining crystals around us. The array on my forehead glowed and then I felt a powerful heat grow underneath the mark and force its way inward, through my skull and then down into my body until it had filtered into the tiniest of my veins and replaced my blood and live with magic and magic alone.
I fought the urge to scream. The sensation wasn’t nearly as agonizing as the magic my father had used on me, but it was not very pleasant either. I tried to calm my breathing but it didn’t work, I only succeeded in making it more unsteady.
Then, finally, after what felt like an infinity, the sensation was gone and the incantation was complete. I realized that I was breathing heavily and very loudly, panting actually…
I tried hard to calm my breathing, again, but it was hard. I found myself unnaturally nervous and uncomfortable. I did not like the idea of having my blood or soul altered again… not again.
I was vaguely aware that everyone was surveying me unusually when Harry wrapped his arms around me and held me close, trying to quell my anxiety. After he held me, I felt more arms around me… and another pair… until suddenly I was the centre of a gigantic group hug.
The thought is almost repulsive, now, in retrospect, but at the time it was soothing and made me feel infinitely better. I let my head rest on Harry’s shoulder… I let my body press against his and feel the full weight of all the people pressing against us.
It was comfortable… to feel actual, physical weight… instead of the maddening metaphysical burden that hung on each of our backs and refused to lift.
And maybe the hug wasn’t for me at all. Maybe it was for Harry… but either way… it gave me some kind of hope.
Some kind…
*******
April 6
I hate that old expression… you know the one I’m sure. The one that says “things will only get worse before they get better”?
Yes, that one. I loathe it.
I tend to loathe things that happen to be aggravatingly realistic.
……
I was sitting in my room with Harry today. He was leaning over the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands and leaning on his knees. I could feel the tension coming from him. There was still nothing in the news to indicate a possible movement on Voldemort’s front and the waiting game was getting ever more frustrating.
I slid up to him, placing one leg on each side of him and kissed his neck softly. I don’t know what possessed me to do all this but…
I nuzzled his thick black locks and brought my hands up to run them through his hair. It was always a mess… I wanted desperately to tame it… to flatten it and make it obey me, but the more I tried, the more unruly it got… as though it wanted to spite me.
I had lost myself for a moment in my concentration, but was brought back to reality when a throaty moan came from Harry. He arched his head back into my hands as I –albeit unknowingly –gave him a massage. I paused, shocked, for a moment, before smiling a bit and continuing on with a more purposeful movement.
My fingers slid down his neck, squeezing at just the right spots and I blew cool breath under the collar of his shirt as I did. He hummed again and shifted back into me, pressing himself full on against me.
Harry brought his hands down to my thighs and began running them heavily up and down, cooing gently with the movement of my fingers on his neck and shoulders. I bit my lip, feeling the excitement get to me, despite… things.
Despite things.
I leaned forward and nibbled softly on his earlobe for long enough to tempt him into action. He brought a hand to my head and pulled me forward still, turning to face me just enough to capture my lips with his own.
I let my eyes shut gently and pressed my tongue to his mouth, licking his lips and prying them open to taste him again. Like I had wanted to do for so long… still.
“Draco,” Harry whispered as I brought my hands around him to slip under his shirt and caress his chest.
“Yes, love,” I answered softly, nipping at his lower lip.
He didn’t say a word, but turned in his place until we were face to face, chests pressed together and hands exploring the places they’d almost forgotten.
His skin was still smooth and felt even softer than I thought it was. I lifted his shirt over his head and he tore mine off me with a ferocity that I hadn’t seen in him in a while.
He smiled and pushed me back, forcing me to lie flat beneath him. His eyes were liquid green and full of lust as he shimmied his way down my body to pull off my trousers and boxers. His fingers moved quickly, as they knew the movements well, and I gasped as the cool air of the house washed over me fully.
“You are gorgeous,” he told me softly, pressing his lips to mine as his fingers wrapped themselves around my shaft. I moaned into the kiss and found my way to undoing the rest of his clothing.
I’m not sure how I managed, but I pushed his trousers and pants off, using both my hands and feet where necessary. When we were both fully naked, Harry arched his back and pressed his hips into mine, causing intense friction between both our erections. It felt so bloody good. So good…
“Ah Harry,” I gasped, relishing the blazing hot kisses that he left along my collarbone and down my stomach. He grasped my shaft and tugged hard, pressing the tip of his tongue to the head. My eyes rolled back and I bucked my hips into him. “Yess, Harry please!”
Harry did not answer, but covered my shaft with his mouth and pulled me into the warm, wet cavern. I groaned at the euphoric sensation of his tongue against me, swirling and drawing sensual patterns on my length.
But all too soon he pulled away with a smirk and a soft kiss on the lips.
“I want you, Draco,” he told me huskily. “I want you so bad.” He leaned in and pressed a blazing kiss to my mouth before pulling away again. “Let me have you…”
“Gods, yes,” I answered moaning heavily and feeling my heart race.
He smiled and kissed me again, spreading my legs beneath him. I wasn’t fully aware of what was happening until he pulled away and summoned something. My eyes followed the small vial of lubricant (which was almost empty now) as it soared across the room into Harry’s waiting hand. My jaw dropped slightly and he gave me a look that was asking for approval.
I swallowed with a smile and nodded, too overcome by lust and need to even care about the positioning.
Harry smiled broadly and not without sex-appeal. He coated his fingers with the oily liquid and leaned over me to kiss me again. He probed at my entrance carefully before sliding one finger in, I braced myself for the discomfort but it didn’t come.
Instead there was a blinding pain behind my eyes and a flash of a horrendous image in my mind. I gasped out loud with a soft whimper and Harry stopped his motion. My body tensed and my muscled froze.
“Are you alright, Draco?” he asked, worried. “Does it hurt?”
I couldn’t ruin this for him…
“No, no,” I lied. “It’s alright, just new. Go ahead.”
He nodded softly and kissed me again, thrusting his finger in deeper, but with every movement there was another flash of agony that ripped through me and more and more images pushed themselves to the forefront of my mind.
I cried out as I saw, not Harry, but Theodore Nott, leaning above me with a malicious expression on his thin face and I felt the maddening agony of the memory of being raped.
“No, no stop, please stop!” I screamed, tears running down my face as I fought back against the images. I started thrashing and Harry gasped, pulling out as quickly as he could.
“Draco, what’s wrong?” he asked terribly worried and slightly offended. “Was I doing it wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I yelled through gritted teeth and pulled away from him turning around to lean over the side of the bed, fisting my hair and screwing up my eyes to stop from crying. I couldn’t speak… just scream.
I heaved almost silent sobs in between my outbursts of yelling as I tore at my hair and tried to will myself to stop from vomiting.
“STOP STOP STOP!” I screamed finally, rocking back and forth, tears flooding my eyes and dripping down onto my knees. “I can’t I can’t! I just can’t!”
“Draco!” Harry cried, scrambling over to me. He grasped my shoulders and tried to calm me down but I tensed again, despite myself.
Why was this happening? Why now??
WHY WITH HARRY?
He couldn’t… the bastard couldn’t… EVEN NOW…
“I can’t… not after he… I can’t, Harry,” I rambled through my angry sobs. I grimacing at myself, wanting nothing more than displace this hate… move it somewhere else but the truth was that it was always with me. I always felt responsible for his actions… it was my fault and I was tainted now.
Harry seemed to understand immediately and pulled me close to him fiercely.
“It’s ok, Draco,” he told me, his tone hard and his face full of anger towards a dead man. “You’re alright… he’s gone now.”
I tore myself from his grasp and got to my feet, throwing over a trunk in my fit of rage.
“I’m NOT ALRIGHT!” I hollered through my tears. “I’m not! And I never will be!! How can I be when he’s still tormenting me from the grave?! HOW CAN I BE ALRIGHT when he’s still haunting me even after I KILLED HIM!” I thrashed madly and finally fell to my knees in front of Harry, the raging grimace on my face, my cheeks wet with tears and my eyes red. “I killed him myself but the bloody bastard won’t die! He won’t let me go! Not even with you…. I killed him myself… I killed him…”
I rambled into another fit of sobbing and Harry wrapped his strong arms around me again, pinning me to him. I didn’t fight back this time. I felt horrible… hideous and marked.
I felt disgusting.
“It’s alright Draco,” Harry whispered to me, rocking back and forth as he tried to squeeze all my pain and fears away. I could hear his heart beat against my ear. “We’ll both be alright… we’ll be alright… this will all be over soon. It’ll be over soon… for both of us…”
I didn’t argue his words, I just grabbed his arm and held him tightly, needing him for that moment… even though I knew he needed me more than I needed him.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, needing him to know that I hadn’t meant for this. “I’m so sorry Harry…”
“Shh, it’s alright,” Harry whispered, carefully brushing a lock of my hair from my face. “I love you, Draco…”
“I love you too, Harry,” I answered, feeling unworthy and unclean in my words.
I love him more than he could ever know…
*******
April 10
The mornings have grown bleaker and the threat of danger grew more and more imminent with the passing minutes.
We woke earlier than usual today… and went downstairs together. Harry had shifted out of his anti-social state and begun to cherish every moment he had with everyone suddenly. He spent a few moments with me every morning and every night, letting his fingers map out the details of my face and hair. His eyes would follow their movements carefully and he tried to commit them to memory.
He thought I was asleep… every time he did… but I wasn’t. I knew he did this because he was afraid he would never get to do it again… he was afraid that he was going to die.
But I’m not afraid for him. I let him touch me like that every morning and every night because I don’t ever want him to forget me. He won’t die… but I might.
And I… need him to keep me with him… forever. At least in a memory.
If only in a memory.
The morning paper was already on the table when we got downstairs. Remus looked up with a grave expression and nodded to the headlines.
--DEMENTOR ATTACK ON GRINGOTT’S STRONG-HOLD—
The two headlines beneath it read as follows.
--WEREWOLVES MOUNT OFFENSIVE AGAINST TRUCE REPRESENTATIVES FROM MAGIC AND MUGGLE SIDES IN LONDON—
--CEMETERIES AROUND LONDON UNEARTHED AND ARMY OF INFERI MARCH ON ALL OF BRITAIN—
That was it.
There was nothing else for it.
Voldemort had caused three massive attacks in one morning using his three largest armies of pawns. Three groups of pawns that could not follow him to the Deathly Hallows.
I looked over at Harry and his face was almost blank as he stared at the headlines before him, surveying the moving image of a Dark Mark hovering over a cemetery filled with the walking dead.
“So that’s it then,” he said conclusively. “This is it. We infiltrate the Department of Mysteries tonight.” He dropped the paper on the table. “Call all the Order members and inform them of our actions. Set up advance guards to ensure that no one has set traps in the Ministry.”
Remus only nodded and left the room.
“Tonight is the night,” I whispered to him. “That you avenge your parents’ deaths and save the world.”
“Or die trying.”
-------IIIIIII-------
A/N: I think that answers your question about how many chapters there will be before the ‘finale’. Yes it’s rather sudden, but there is a point to that as well.
As for the date, it is significant (in my mind anyway) because while I would have loved to place it on Halloween, that was impossible. But this date is an important holiday in 1998. I’m not going to highlight which one because (sadly) it only applies to certain groups, but I didn’t just pick a random day.
I used the options I was given, which were…few.
Eheh…
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! Harry on Draco action, neh? Not what you expected I know, but have faith.
This is going to be rough and it’s going to be long. I hope I’ll be able to come to a satisfying conclusion in the end, for all of us.
Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support!
Also, I wanted to highlight, when I said Rookwood and Aberforth were partners I meant only at work haha ^^; sorry about the confusion there!
And I’m sorry about the typo in the last chapter if it caused you confusion! Thank you eLeMeNOhPee for pointing it out to me! I’m sorry it confused you haha! No I wouldn’t pull something that crazy out of my hat… not in this fic anyway hahaha
I love you all and wish you happy times and give you lots of cake and I am now providing an assortment of cholesterol free treats for your healthy enjoyment! HAHA! I love this :)
*loves*
Age 17—part 42
March 28
The past ten days in Grimmauld Place have been the most tense yet. The leering promise of a climax to this chaotic war proved to be more than just a shadow hanging over all of our heads. In some ways, the impending end was more frightening than the whole of the war in itself.
The end means the end… without further ado or gilding the lily. That’s it. It promises the finale and a conclusion for everyone, whether we like it or not.
Once that battle is ended –if it really can have an end –the future of the wizarding world will be decided. Either Good will triumph over Evil, much like in children’s storybooks and ancient Fairy tales, and the whole of our world will learn some much deserved lesson about tolerance and acceptance and unity…
Or else Evil will vanquish through the dark and we have nothing more to look forward to but the rise of a red sun and a growing shadow on the horizon… nothing but horror.
We have Hell.
Frankly, I don’t think that anyone from the Order will be able to look at the matter as being so Black and White. Because it’s not. It never was. There is no option where everything is either wholly good or bad… there will always be the presence of both in the world…
Just as the same two traits are always omnipresent in humanity… of any kind. I’m just human… Harry is just human…
Despite his most desperate attempts to reject it, Voldemort is still just human.
And the knowledge of what this war has become –a war between people more than the war of men versus monsters, which is what it seemed before –has changed everyone.
How should we feel? How would you feel if you were told that the evil you have been fighting was planning his final assault on Life by taking on the World of the Dead? How would you feel if you knew that your last battle was going to take place in a world where the slightest mistake could kill you, everything rested on luck and favour and you were constantly surrounded by the lost souls of your loved ones and enemies?
Everyone has seemed both skittish and painfully calm… if that is at all possible. They have the look of death on their faces, as though they know each and every one of them is marked and will not survive this.
I doubt I look much better. Even my greatest talent –my ability to stow away my feelings, my emotions and my thoughts, lock them away in my mind and tear them away from my surface –has been failing me.
Granger has been keeping her nose stuck in a book, her eyes always full of tears, and Weasley has been carefully watching her, holding her tightly with glassy eyes and a look of pure desperation. He keeps looking at her… in such a way that makes you think that he’s trying very hard not to think about the possibility of losing her… but failing miserably.
Tonks gives the same look to Lupin.
Her eyes are always distant as she sits near him and he, through his carefully calm exterior, looks as though he’s crumbling inside. For the first time I’ve ever seen anything of Remus crumble.
No one else could see it, I imagine… but I’m so good at putting on the same face that I know exactly what it looks like when it falters.
I never thought I’d see it.
The She-Weasel has been quiet and distant. Her demeanor is so strange… she’s been spending all her time with Lovegood. She listens intently when the little Ravenclaw explains a complex conspiracy theory dealing with Vampires in the Ministry. Perhaps Luna has the best perspective out of all of us.
She sees the more beautiful details of the world, even if they might not all be true. She told me that she believes things that others don’t, not because there is proof against it, but because there is no proof against it. She has faith in all possibilities… has faith in the imaginable and unimaginable.
I didn’t put much stock in her words at the time, but now I sit and think on it I realize that she likely does know better than anyone else.
Maybe.
Harry, of course, is the worst of all of us. He’s spent most of his time in our room…
He pulled out the mirror that I assume Sirius gave him and has been staring into it, his eyes unfocused on his reflection. He whispers something every so often… it’s always the same thing though…
“How could I forget?” he says in a barely audible tone. “Why couldn’t you talk to me? I wouldn’t have forgotten… how did I forget…”
I get stuck in those moments. I stop moving, my heart stills and I feel the breath catch in my chest as I was him. I’ve never seen him cry for it…
Maybe he just can’t anymore. Or maybe he wants to but the tears won’t come.
I sit with him and hold him when I can… And all I want to do is give him all of me… all my strength and all I have.
I’ve never felt that way before. I’ve never wanted to give myself away for anyone. No one.
But Harry… he demands so little but I want to give him everything. He asks for nothing… just loyalty… just trust… and I want to offer him everything.
I still don’t understand the words that Dumbledore left me with. I thought that all along I had been acting on the direction of my heart, forgetting my head’s better judgment…
But still he said it… he did and I know there is something more to it. More to his words…
……
I only leave our room to bring Harry some lunch or other mindless reasons… Harry only leaves when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley show up with news…. Or when the Aurors or other Order members bring news or the Daily Prophet.
We’ve been checking the damn paper morning, noon and night. To no avail, of course.
The Daily Prophet has reported nothing particularly important. Same old muggle riots in London, though they are winding down.
The same old Auror raids for Death-Eaters and escaped convicts. No arrests.
Minor news on sporadic deaths relating to Death-Eaters or highlighted by the Dark Mark.
But nothing particularly important… nothing to suggest that there was going to be a massive onslaught of chaos… nothing big enough to cover the tracks of a move to penetrate the veils between the worlds.
Nothing of nearly large enough scale for that.
Arthur Weasley reported all types of cursed artifacts, or poisoned goods… all sorts of areas about the wizarding world where massive zones of dark magic reign. There are some places where people will die instantaneously upon entering the area. Some places will turn people inside-out. Others will skin them… or worse, leave their skin and remove their insides.
Some areas will cause people to switch bodies… and some will transfigure people into mangled chimera-like creatures… each just pieces of other beasts put together.
But these places are few and far-between…
In fact, what worries us more is that everything seems too quiet for this point in the war. We’re in the eye of the storm…
The worst of this tempest still lies ahead.
The Weasleys finally got message from Bill in Romania. He investigated his brother Charlie’s actions before his death but found only that he had been inquiring into a case of theft and murder.
Apparently there had been a midnight attack on a Dragon’s protected habitat and several of the Dragons had been slain… drained of their blood and their hearts removed.
My stomach did an awkward churn in my body at hearing that news. I can’t help but feel particularly connected to Dragons… they’ve always been rather fascinating… and what with my name…
Well…
It was upsetting.
To say the least.
Hagrid… the oaf, came over with Aberforth the day after we returned from Hogwarts. He was… mildly surprised to see me here. I suppose that there are Order members who are still uninformed of my location… which is probably a good thing.
There was a minor outburst during which he called me a number of unforgivable names and threatened my life and my soul for what I (allegedly) did to Dumbledore, before Harry and Remus explained the whole matter to him.
At which point he turned a rather interesting shade of maroon and simply nodded to me.
Thanks.
It was on this day that all the Order members (excepting a choice few who could simply not be here –i.e. Bill Weasley, McGonagall, etc.) showed up as well. Kingsley Shacklebolt had made a full recovery and was present, though much against the advice of the Mediwitches, not to mention Tonks and Remus. He refused to be bed-ridden any longer and was intent on fighting with us. He could not remember any direct details of what happened to him, but he claimed that it did not matter at this point. That he was still to fight and he would do so until he had fallen down dead.
Aberforth called everyone into the empty room that Harry and I (along with the others) had been using as a practice arena. He had drawn intricate arrays on the floor in a red paste (which looked suspiciously like blood) and had the lot of us step inside. He, himself, did not join us. He claimed that the caster of this spell had to remain on the side of the Living…
I don’t understand the details, but, ultimately, he could not join us on our trip to the Deathly Hallows.
He proceeded to draw a much smaller array on each of our foreheads (next to Harry’s scar, for him and in the centre of our foreheads for the rest of us) with his wand. Each individual array was different and just as complex as the next. I felt…
Rather awkward.
This had never figured into my father’s use of Blood or Soul Magic. No arrays were ever required or… used. I felt my breathing speed up as he finished the forehead markings and went to stand in front of us all to cast the actual spell.
The sensation of unease only grew as he began with the ancient Latin incantation. I grasped onto Harry’s hand and felt my truncated breaths match the erratic beats of my heart. He squeeze my hand tightly, his face set and determined as his green eyes followed the complex movements of Aberforth’s wand.
I felt the magic as it fell in shining crystals around us. The array on my forehead glowed and then I felt a powerful heat grow underneath the mark and force its way inward, through my skull and then down into my body until it had filtered into the tiniest of my veins and replaced my blood and live with magic and magic alone.
I fought the urge to scream. The sensation wasn’t nearly as agonizing as the magic my father had used on me, but it was not very pleasant either. I tried to calm my breathing but it didn’t work, I only succeeded in making it more unsteady.
Then, finally, after what felt like an infinity, the sensation was gone and the incantation was complete. I realized that I was breathing heavily and very loudly, panting actually…
I tried hard to calm my breathing, again, but it was hard. I found myself unnaturally nervous and uncomfortable. I did not like the idea of having my blood or soul altered again… not again.
I was vaguely aware that everyone was surveying me unusually when Harry wrapped his arms around me and held me close, trying to quell my anxiety. After he held me, I felt more arms around me… and another pair… until suddenly I was the centre of a gigantic group hug.
The thought is almost repulsive, now, in retrospect, but at the time it was soothing and made me feel infinitely better. I let my head rest on Harry’s shoulder… I let my body press against his and feel the full weight of all the people pressing against us.
It was comfortable… to feel actual, physical weight… instead of the maddening metaphysical burden that hung on each of our backs and refused to lift.
And maybe the hug wasn’t for me at all. Maybe it was for Harry… but either way… it gave me some kind of hope.
Some kind…
*******
April 6
I hate that old expression… you know the one I’m sure. The one that says “things will only get worse before they get better”?
Yes, that one. I loathe it.
I tend to loathe things that happen to be aggravatingly realistic.
……
I was sitting in my room with Harry today. He was leaning over the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands and leaning on his knees. I could feel the tension coming from him. There was still nothing in the news to indicate a possible movement on Voldemort’s front and the waiting game was getting ever more frustrating.
I slid up to him, placing one leg on each side of him and kissed his neck softly. I don’t know what possessed me to do all this but…
I nuzzled his thick black locks and brought my hands up to run them through his hair. It was always a mess… I wanted desperately to tame it… to flatten it and make it obey me, but the more I tried, the more unruly it got… as though it wanted to spite me.
I had lost myself for a moment in my concentration, but was brought back to reality when a throaty moan came from Harry. He arched his head back into my hands as I –albeit unknowingly –gave him a massage. I paused, shocked, for a moment, before smiling a bit and continuing on with a more purposeful movement.
My fingers slid down his neck, squeezing at just the right spots and I blew cool breath under the collar of his shirt as I did. He hummed again and shifted back into me, pressing himself full on against me.
Harry brought his hands down to my thighs and began running them heavily up and down, cooing gently with the movement of my fingers on his neck and shoulders. I bit my lip, feeling the excitement get to me, despite… things.
Despite things.
I leaned forward and nibbled softly on his earlobe for long enough to tempt him into action. He brought a hand to my head and pulled me forward still, turning to face me just enough to capture my lips with his own.
I let my eyes shut gently and pressed my tongue to his mouth, licking his lips and prying them open to taste him again. Like I had wanted to do for so long… still.
“Draco,” Harry whispered as I brought my hands around him to slip under his shirt and caress his chest.
“Yes, love,” I answered softly, nipping at his lower lip.
He didn’t say a word, but turned in his place until we were face to face, chests pressed together and hands exploring the places they’d almost forgotten.
His skin was still smooth and felt even softer than I thought it was. I lifted his shirt over his head and he tore mine off me with a ferocity that I hadn’t seen in him in a while.
He smiled and pushed me back, forcing me to lie flat beneath him. His eyes were liquid green and full of lust as he shimmied his way down my body to pull off my trousers and boxers. His fingers moved quickly, as they knew the movements well, and I gasped as the cool air of the house washed over me fully.
“You are gorgeous,” he told me softly, pressing his lips to mine as his fingers wrapped themselves around my shaft. I moaned into the kiss and found my way to undoing the rest of his clothing.
I’m not sure how I managed, but I pushed his trousers and pants off, using both my hands and feet where necessary. When we were both fully naked, Harry arched his back and pressed his hips into mine, causing intense friction between both our erections. It felt so bloody good. So good…
“Ah Harry,” I gasped, relishing the blazing hot kisses that he left along my collarbone and down my stomach. He grasped my shaft and tugged hard, pressing the tip of his tongue to the head. My eyes rolled back and I bucked my hips into him. “Yess, Harry please!”
Harry did not answer, but covered my shaft with his mouth and pulled me into the warm, wet cavern. I groaned at the euphoric sensation of his tongue against me, swirling and drawing sensual patterns on my length.
But all too soon he pulled away with a smirk and a soft kiss on the lips.
“I want you, Draco,” he told me huskily. “I want you so bad.” He leaned in and pressed a blazing kiss to my mouth before pulling away again. “Let me have you…”
“Gods, yes,” I answered moaning heavily and feeling my heart race.
He smiled and kissed me again, spreading my legs beneath him. I wasn’t fully aware of what was happening until he pulled away and summoned something. My eyes followed the small vial of lubricant (which was almost empty now) as it soared across the room into Harry’s waiting hand. My jaw dropped slightly and he gave me a look that was asking for approval.
I swallowed with a smile and nodded, too overcome by lust and need to even care about the positioning.
Harry smiled broadly and not without sex-appeal. He coated his fingers with the oily liquid and leaned over me to kiss me again. He probed at my entrance carefully before sliding one finger in, I braced myself for the discomfort but it didn’t come.
Instead there was a blinding pain behind my eyes and a flash of a horrendous image in my mind. I gasped out loud with a soft whimper and Harry stopped his motion. My body tensed and my muscled froze.
“Are you alright, Draco?” he asked, worried. “Does it hurt?”
I couldn’t ruin this for him…
“No, no,” I lied. “It’s alright, just new. Go ahead.”
He nodded softly and kissed me again, thrusting his finger in deeper, but with every movement there was another flash of agony that ripped through me and more and more images pushed themselves to the forefront of my mind.
I cried out as I saw, not Harry, but Theodore Nott, leaning above me with a malicious expression on his thin face and I felt the maddening agony of the memory of being raped.
“No, no stop, please stop!” I screamed, tears running down my face as I fought back against the images. I started thrashing and Harry gasped, pulling out as quickly as he could.
“Draco, what’s wrong?” he asked terribly worried and slightly offended. “Was I doing it wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I yelled through gritted teeth and pulled away from him turning around to lean over the side of the bed, fisting my hair and screwing up my eyes to stop from crying. I couldn’t speak… just scream.
I heaved almost silent sobs in between my outbursts of yelling as I tore at my hair and tried to will myself to stop from vomiting.
“STOP STOP STOP!” I screamed finally, rocking back and forth, tears flooding my eyes and dripping down onto my knees. “I can’t I can’t! I just can’t!”
“Draco!” Harry cried, scrambling over to me. He grasped my shoulders and tried to calm me down but I tensed again, despite myself.
Why was this happening? Why now??
WHY WITH HARRY?
He couldn’t… the bastard couldn’t… EVEN NOW…
“I can’t… not after he… I can’t, Harry,” I rambled through my angry sobs. I grimacing at myself, wanting nothing more than displace this hate… move it somewhere else but the truth was that it was always with me. I always felt responsible for his actions… it was my fault and I was tainted now.
Harry seemed to understand immediately and pulled me close to him fiercely.
“It’s ok, Draco,” he told me, his tone hard and his face full of anger towards a dead man. “You’re alright… he’s gone now.”
I tore myself from his grasp and got to my feet, throwing over a trunk in my fit of rage.
“I’m NOT ALRIGHT!” I hollered through my tears. “I’m not! And I never will be!! How can I be when he’s still tormenting me from the grave?! HOW CAN I BE ALRIGHT when he’s still haunting me even after I KILLED HIM!” I thrashed madly and finally fell to my knees in front of Harry, the raging grimace on my face, my cheeks wet with tears and my eyes red. “I killed him myself but the bloody bastard won’t die! He won’t let me go! Not even with you…. I killed him myself… I killed him…”
I rambled into another fit of sobbing and Harry wrapped his strong arms around me again, pinning me to him. I didn’t fight back this time. I felt horrible… hideous and marked.
I felt disgusting.
“It’s alright Draco,” Harry whispered to me, rocking back and forth as he tried to squeeze all my pain and fears away. I could hear his heart beat against my ear. “We’ll both be alright… we’ll be alright… this will all be over soon. It’ll be over soon… for both of us…”
I didn’t argue his words, I just grabbed his arm and held him tightly, needing him for that moment… even though I knew he needed me more than I needed him.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, needing him to know that I hadn’t meant for this. “I’m so sorry Harry…”
“Shh, it’s alright,” Harry whispered, carefully brushing a lock of my hair from my face. “I love you, Draco…”
“I love you too, Harry,” I answered, feeling unworthy and unclean in my words.
I love him more than he could ever know…
*******
April 10
The mornings have grown bleaker and the threat of danger grew more and more imminent with the passing minutes.
We woke earlier than usual today… and went downstairs together. Harry had shifted out of his anti-social state and begun to cherish every moment he had with everyone suddenly. He spent a few moments with me every morning and every night, letting his fingers map out the details of my face and hair. His eyes would follow their movements carefully and he tried to commit them to memory.
He thought I was asleep… every time he did… but I wasn’t. I knew he did this because he was afraid he would never get to do it again… he was afraid that he was going to die.
But I’m not afraid for him. I let him touch me like that every morning and every night because I don’t ever want him to forget me. He won’t die… but I might.
And I… need him to keep me with him… forever. At least in a memory.
If only in a memory.
The morning paper was already on the table when we got downstairs. Remus looked up with a grave expression and nodded to the headlines.
--DEMENTOR ATTACK ON GRINGOTT’S STRONG-HOLD—
The two headlines beneath it read as follows.
--WEREWOLVES MOUNT OFFENSIVE AGAINST TRUCE REPRESENTATIVES FROM MAGIC AND MUGGLE SIDES IN LONDON—
--CEMETERIES AROUND LONDON UNEARTHED AND ARMY OF INFERI MARCH ON ALL OF BRITAIN—
That was it.
There was nothing else for it.
Voldemort had caused three massive attacks in one morning using his three largest armies of pawns. Three groups of pawns that could not follow him to the Deathly Hallows.
I looked over at Harry and his face was almost blank as he stared at the headlines before him, surveying the moving image of a Dark Mark hovering over a cemetery filled with the walking dead.
“So that’s it then,” he said conclusively. “This is it. We infiltrate the Department of Mysteries tonight.” He dropped the paper on the table. “Call all the Order members and inform them of our actions. Set up advance guards to ensure that no one has set traps in the Ministry.”
Remus only nodded and left the room.
“Tonight is the night,” I whispered to him. “That you avenge your parents’ deaths and save the world.”
“Or die trying.”
-------IIIIIII-------
A/N: I think that answers your question about how many chapters there will be before the ‘finale’. Yes it’s rather sudden, but there is a point to that as well.
As for the date, it is significant (in my mind anyway) because while I would have loved to place it on Halloween, that was impossible. But this date is an important holiday in 1998. I’m not going to highlight which one because (sadly) it only applies to certain groups, but I didn’t just pick a random day.
I used the options I was given, which were…few.
Eheh…
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this! Harry on Draco action, neh? Not what you expected I know, but have faith.
This is going to be rough and it’s going to be long. I hope I’ll be able to come to a satisfying conclusion in the end, for all of us.
Thank you for all the lovely reviews and support!
Also, I wanted to highlight, when I said Rookwood and Aberforth were partners I meant only at work haha ^^; sorry about the confusion there!
And I’m sorry about the typo in the last chapter if it caused you confusion! Thank you eLeMeNOhPee for pointing it out to me! I’m sorry it confused you haha! No I wouldn’t pull something that crazy out of my hat… not in this fic anyway hahaha
I love you all and wish you happy times and give you lots of cake and I am now providing an assortment of cholesterol free treats for your healthy enjoyment! HAHA! I love this :)
*loves*