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Distortion (Corruption 2)	By : Beren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5033 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 1-Distortion (Corruption 2)
- 1
Title: Distortion
(Corruption 2)

Author: Beren (aka Didi)

Email: beren@dtwins.co.uk

Livejournal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/beren_writes/

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and
owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury
Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money
is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warnings: This story is set post OOTP and therefore has SPOLIERS.

Genre: Slash

Sequel to: Corruption

Summary: Voldemort died at Harry's hand, just like the Prophecy said, but
is there a life for Harry after what the Dark Lord has done to him?

Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta. The pieces that were floating
around in my head after the end of Corruption finally made some sense, so here's
the sequel.

====

Harry's first thought as
he woke was surprise that he had actually slept, which for a moment stopped
his mind informing him what had caused him to wake. Lying perfectly still, he
was frozen trying to work out what had so suddenly pulled him from what had
been a dreamless rest.

"I wouldn't do that," Mal Malfoy's familiar voice said in a warning tone, "he'll..."

Something touched Harry's
arm and he knew what was troubling him as his senses became suddenly very clear
and he reacted without even thinking. He twisted where he was lying, his hand
coming up to snatch what he knew was a wand pointing at his shoulder and then
he dragged his legs up towards himself, coming onto his feet on the bed. It
did not occur to him to use the wand and he faced the very startled looking
wizard, snarling his displeasure at the unfortunate individual.

"...see it as a threat,"
Malfoy finished with a definite 'I told you so' implied on the end.

Harry's instincts screamed
at him to attack and he only just held on to himself as his conscious thoughts
tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Harry, you are perfectly
safe," the sound of one voice confirmed what his magical senses were telling
him, and grabbing on to the headboard with his free arm Harry looked across
the room at Albus Dumbledore.

So many emotions hit him
at the same time that he began to shake and he slowly slid down the wooden support,
still clutching the wand he had taken by the wrong end. Part of him was insisting
very loudly that he was in danger and he needed to rectify that, but he focused
on Dumbledore's calm words and gasping at the effort, put the genie back in
the bottle. His eyes flicked between the three people in the room: Dumbledore,
Malfoy and the unknown wizard.

"Who are you?"
he demanded of the stranger, needing something more to bring back the very sensitive
balance in his impulse-saturated psyche.

"Auror Caveo,"
the man said slowly as Dumbledore nodded at him.

That didn't do a lot to
settle Harry's nerves since he did not exactly trust the Ministry or any Aurors
he did not know, but it gave his more logical aspect something to use. Before
he could talk himself out of it, he threw the wand back at its owner and then
hunched down further against the head of the bed, instinctively making himself
a smaller target.

"Leave," he said
shortly.

It was too soon for his
control to be tested so blatantly. What a fully trained Auror had thought he
was doing waking any dark creature at wand point, Harry had no idea; if Caveo
made a habit of it the Ministry was likely to be down one employee in the near
future.

"I don't think you
are in any position to ..." the Auror tried to protest as he retrieved
his wand.

Harry snarled and growled,
showing the wizard a mouth full of very sharp teeth. He wasn't really aware
if any other changes occurred in his physical form, but the man took a step
back.

"Perhaps is would
be best for you to wait outside for a moment, Auror Caveo," Dumbledore
interposed smoothly before the disagreement could go any further; "Harry
has been through a terrible ordeal and we would not want anythingowaroward to
occur because of the duress of the situation."

The Auror appeared very
uncertain about that idea, and the way Caveo gripped his wand in a tighter fashion,
Harry was not sure the headmaster was going to win this discussion. Then he
felt it; a calm, serene feeling emanating from Dumbledore and he saw the Auror
begin to relax. The revelation, rather than the actual influence caused him
to sit down in shock.

"Harry and I will
have a little chat," Dumbledore said pleasantly, "and then I am sure
we will be able to clear up what happened here."

"Mr Malfoy is in custody,"
Auror Caveo said with a nod, "I will have to take him with me."

For the first time this
really focused Harry's attention on Malfoy and he did not like it one little
bit when the Ministry employee reached out and took hold of the Slytherin's
arm. Malfoy appeared tired and resigned and Harry could not prevent the low
growl in the back of his throat as a rather startling, possessive and protective
feeling rose in his chest.

"Mr Malfoy is also
perfectly safe," Dumbledore said smoothly as the Auror looked perturbed
and ready to do something stupid, "he is in custody for his own protection."

Harry did not believe that
for a second, but he felt the calming influence coming his way and, fighting
the instinct to swat it away, he let it through his defences. It was a remarkably
good feeling and he was grateful for it even though he knew he was being manipulated.

"I will notify you
when Harry is calmer," Dumbledore said pleasantly and the Auror nodded
and led Malfoy out of the room.

As the two wizards disappeared
behind the closing door, one source of danger disappeared off his radar, but
that rather focused all of Harry's attention on the headmaster instead. This
caused some very conflicting emotions to try and take precedence in his brain
all at the same time: shame; hope; fear; anger and more. He wanted to scream
and shout, to demand of his mentor why he had let this happen to him; and he
wanted to throw himself into the wizard's arms and beg him to make it go away;
all at the same time.

"Oh, My Poor Child,"
Dumbledore said as soon as they were alone, sitting himself down on the side
of the bed no more than a foot from Harry, " did did that monster do to
you?"

Then he opened his arms
and Harry went to him instantly. There was no fear in Dumbledore at all as he
wrapped Harry in a paternal embrace and it meant more to Harry than any words
could possibly express. He sobbed as he was held tightly and for a moment he
was nothing but human.

The calm did not last long,
however, as reality made itself known. Something in him informed him quite how
much magic was flowing through Dumbledore and what a feast it would make, and
the slow thudding of the wizard's heartbeat called to him in a most alluring
way. He pushed himself away as soon as these ideas entered his head; he was
not hungry and they were easy to cast aside, but that they were there at all
frightened him.

"Don't trust me,"
he said shortly, wiping the tears from his face with one sleeve and moving away
from his source of comfort.

Dumbledore folded his hands
into his lap and just looked at Harry for a few moments.

"I would trust you
with my life, Young Man," the headmaster said calmly, "no matter what
magic resides within you."

"It might not be your
life I decide to take," Harry shot back, suddenly annoyed.

Dumbledore's unwavering
faith in him was suddenly irritating and he had to take a deep breath to stop
himself acting on the emotion. He was dangerous; he'd shown that to Voldemort
very distinctly and he needed Dumbledore to understand quite how lethal he was.

"How often do you
influence people like you did to Caveo?" he asked bluntly, it was the least
offensive way he could think of to illustrate how different he was.

Surprisingly the headmaster
did not react with shock or anger, Dumbledore simply nodded.

"Ah, yes," the
old wizard said calmly, "I was led to believe you may had sensed that by
your reaction. It is a talent I inherited from Grindelwald after our encounter,
and one which I use sparingly. It can be unproductive when used inappropriately,
but I have found that it can be most useful in diffusing volatile situations
until alternatives may be found."

For a moment Harry's curiosity
overcame his annoyance.

"You inherited power
from Grindelwald?" he asked, shocked by the revelation.

"When two powerful
wizards meet in combat to the death it is inevitable," Dumbledore explained
patiently, "although it is not a fact many like to accept. Magic is energy,
Harry, and it cannot be destroyed, only changed and redistributed; when a magical
person dies their power has to go somewhere and with someone as powerful as
Grindelwald or Voldemort a particular talent can often remain intact to be passed
to another. As Voldemort passed some of his magical ability to you as a baby
due to the effects of the Killing curse, so Grindelwald passed certain powers
to me when we fought and he died."

It was quite a radical
piece of information to take in and something nasty occurred to Harry.

"I killed Voldemort,"
he said slowly and could not contain the glare he send Dumbledore, "does
that mean on top of everything else I'm dealing with him as well?"

"You, My Dear Boy,"
the headmaster replied, "are a unique case, since Voldemort had already
passed a significant part of his abilities to you. However, it may be that you
have picked up some other talents along the way. But, please try to remember
that it is not Voldemort himself who may have been passed along, but his magical
abilities; nothing to be afraid of."

Harry laughed at that;
a humourless, cold laugh.

"The Ministry must
be terrified," he said blackly; "an unclassifiable Dark creature with
the power of the Dark Lord. If I was them I'd have tried to kill me while I
was asleep."

That produced the first
frown from his companion and Dumbledore actually appeared mildly upset by Harry's
pronouncement. Distressingly, Harry found that part of him enjoyed the headmaster's
discomfort.

"Harry," Dumbledore
said firmly, "I do not pretend to understand what you must be going through,
but I promise you this: you will not be going through it alone and you will
not be abandoned to the Ministry. Several members of the Order are already here
and, shall we say, arrangements had been made to make sure that your involvement
with Voldemort's demise cannot be down played."

"I stuck my fingers
into his chest and pulled out his heart," Harry responded snidely. "How's
that for dying at the hand of the other; fulfil the prophecy okay? Don't know
what the unknown power was; Voldemort knew exactly what he put into me."

Dumbledore looked him directly
in the eye then.

"I think perhaps it
may have been referring to your strength of character," the headmaster
said evenly.

Harry really didn't know
what to say to that and silence descended as he looked away, unable to deal
with his own reaction.

"What about Malfoy?"
he asked eventually, changing the subject in an effort to continue the conversation.

"His situation is
somewhat complicated," Dumbledore admitted honestly, "due to his Dark
Mark. He has also been less than forthcoming about what exactly occurred last
night. If you do not mind me observing the fact; I was somewhat surprised to
find Mr Malfoy on our side."

That caused Harry to smile
rather coldly.

"He wasn't exactly,"
he observed, "he is on his own side and that hasn't been Voldemort's for
some time. I saw his mother after ... when I went down to find Voldemort and
I almost killed her, but she wanted to know if he was still alive. I told her
to take him and leave and not come back. I don't know why they didn't."

It was difficult to admit
what he had done even though the darkness in him revelled in the memory and
wanted to do it again. That a part of him felt as if Malfoy somehow belonged
to him was unsettling to say the least.

"What happened, Harry?"
Dumbledore asked gently.

Harry looked at his hands;
the memory brought with it excitement and shame in such equal parts that he
had to take long seconds to gather himself.

"Did he tell you he
was a prisoner?" The headmaster nodded. "Did he explain why?"

"Mr Malfoy seemed
reticent to explain that particular happenstance," Dumbledore replied.

"He took the Dark
Mark willingly," Harry said quietly, "but I don't think he understood
what it meant. Once Voldemort had him he wanted all of him, body and soul; Malfoy
refused to be made a play thing. Voldemort imprisoned him until he complied.
He never did and so Voldemort decided to feed him to his new creation; me."

He paused, taking a deep
breath and fighting down the desire to destroy something that accompanied the
confusion he was feeling.

"When I woke up, Malfoy
explained what had happened," Harry began again, "and he looked after
me when the magic started to change me. He was just lying there when I woke
up, like he knew there was nothing he could do."

He had to stop again.

"The hunger,"
he tried to explain, "it changes everything. He was mine, the prey, and
I didn't even think about stopping. I could have killed him."

"But you did not,"
Dumbledore said firmly.

Harry laughed derisively.

"No," he agreed,
"but that didn't stop me doing other things. I did what he wouldn't let
Voldemort do and then I drank his blood as well. I left him unconscious on the
bed and yet he came back for me. Why did he come back?"

"Perhaps because you
did not do exactly what Voldemort would have done," the headmaster said
calmly. "You were under the influence of very strong magic, Harry, that
you did not kill ...."

"You don't understand,"
Harry almost shouted, "I still am under that influence; it's never going
away."

He heard his voice change
as dark power flowed around him body and resonated through his chest.

"He's mine,"
he said before he could pull himself back under control.

Breathing hard he wrapped
his arms around his chest. He could not look at Dumbledore, afraid to see the
effect his loss of control would have had on his mentor.

"I can't stop it,"
he whispered dejectedly.

A hand on his shoulder
caused him to jump, and he looked up at the now standing headmaster accusingly.

"There are ways we
can help you, My Boy," Dumbledore told him in a tone which begged no argument.
"Trust me, Harry; we will bring you through this."

====

Harry was sitting on the
edge of the bed staring straight ahead when he felt the wards on the room change.
The Occlumency training he had been through over the entirety of the previous
year was helping somewhat, but he could not find the calm centre that he needed
to make it completely effective. Without the hunger driving him, the instincts
running through his body were easier to keep in check, but they were disturbing
and he was uncomfortably aware that sooner or later the hunger would return.

Dumbledore had remained
with him for over an hour and they had talked, but Harry had found many of the
reassurances hollow and had had to curb his tongue several times. There had
been a few instances where he hadn't managed it and sitting on the desire to
make Dumbledore more and more uncomfortable had been difficult. The fact that
the headmaster always appeared calm was a great feat in self control as far
as Harry could tell, because he had not been able to ignore some of the stronger
emotions coming from his mentor. Since Dudoredore had left, Harry had been trying
to simply not think anymore.

He turned to look at the
door just as it opened; Professor Snape walked in.

"Good afternoon, Mr
Potter," the dour man greeted shortly, "I have been sent to fetch
a blood sample."

That was another thing
Dumbledore had mentioned; he had told Harry that finding out which of Voldemort's
additions had taken and which had not was an unavoidable top priority; the Ministry
was insisting on it. That he was going to be a lab rat was something that annoyed
him, but was also inevitable. He was a thing never seen before; the Ministry
was never going to just let him walk away. Dumbledore had insisted that the
information was required so they could help him; Harry was pretty sure it was
more likely the Ministry wanted to find out his weaknesses.

He could not help the bitter
amusement this caused in him and Snape's turn of phrase made him smile menacingly.

"Going to trade?"
he asked, baring his teeth for good measure.

That earned him an unimpressed,
raised eyebrow from the Potions' Master. Over the previous year it could not
be said that they had become friends, but they had made peace. Harry had returned
for his sixth year a much more serious studecompcompletely dedicated to preparing
for his confrontation with Voldemort. This new attitude had not initially made
much impact on Snape; but after they had had a very loud, very long argument
after one of his Occlumency lessons they had reached an understanding. A truce
had been called.

"I taste of dank dungeons
and unpleasant potions' ingredients, Mr Potter," Snape replied coolly,
"I doubt you would find me palatable."

Harry gave a rather self
depreciating laugh at that.

"That wouldn't stop
me if I was hungry, Professor," he said plainly.

"Ah yes, but, Mr Potter,"
Snape returned, putting down the equipment he had brought will him; "I
am a Slytherin and as such would not be stupid enough to come in here if you
were hungry."

The retort that came to
mind involved pointing out to Snape how one Slytherin had already had the misfortune
of finding out about his new nature personally, but that brought enough conflict
with it into his mind that he managed to keep his mouth shut.

"So what is the latest
consensus of opinion, Professor," Harry asked, distracting himself from
his thoughts; "do the Ministry want to dispose of me as quickly as possible,
or preserve me for future study?"

"I think the factions
are equally matched," Snape replied in complete seriousness as he picked
up a container and checked it carefully. "If you would roll up your sleeve,
Mr Potter."

There was definitely a
big part of Harry that felt like refusing and telling the man to go and do interesting
things to himself, but he bit his tongue and took hold of the sleeve of the
silk pyjamas he was wearing. If there was one thing he knew, it was that with
Snape on the job it would be done properly; the Potions' Master was nothing
if not methodical.

Snape walked over and calmly
tied an inch wide rubbery type material covered in some interesting patterns,
around the crook of Harry's arm; then the Potions' Master touched the material
with his wand and muttered something. Harry felt a slight shift in the magic
of the device, it tightened so that it was flush with his skin and then there
was a prickling sensation. The vessel in Snape's other hand began to fill.

Harry could not help staring
as the small bottle began to fill; his blood was as red as normal, but in it
swirled black and silver stripes of colour.

"Professor,"
he asked quietly as the sight took away most of his ability to speak, "can
you help me?"

"I will try, Mr Potter,"
Snape said evenly, "I will try."

Dragging his eyes away
from the bottle Harry waited in silence for it to fill; it didn't hurt, but
the sensation was unpleasant and quite a percentage of him was not comfortable
with the procedure. The knowledge that his blood might be used against him did
not help either and he stared at the wall trying to ignore what was going on.

"How are you coping?"
the question from Snape sounded ard ard and caught Harry off guard.

He looked back at the head
of Slytherin without trying to hide his surprise.

"Any information may
be useful in assisting my efforts," Snape clarified, but his tone of voice
had been anything but clinically professional.

"I have no control,"
Harry replied bitterly and glared back at the jar, "even the Occlumency
isn't working properly. I can't shut it all down."

Snape did not reply for
some time and eventually Harry looked up at his companion.

"There are many different
aspects to your person now," the Potions' Master said thoughtfully, "it
may be productive to attempt to calm each one individually."

That was an idea that had
not occurred to Harry and it made a kind of twisted sense. Rather than dwelling
on what he could not do he let his mind churn over that possibility and for
a while he forgot that Snape was there at all.

"We are done, Mr Potter,&q

the warning brought Harry back to the present and he looked up to find Snape
waiting to be acknowledged.

Only when he nodded at
the wizard did Snape move forward and tap the band on his arm once more. Typically
cous,ous, typically Slytherin and for once Harry appreciated the trait: he already
knew he was not good when startled.

"I will give half
the sample to the Ministry," Snape told him calmly as the Potions' Master
packed away his equipment, "and I shall return to Hogwarts with the other.
Should I make any progress I will deliver the information personally."

Yet again Harry was surprised;
they were no longer antagonists, but that did not mean that they spoke if they
did not have to and Snape's reassurances were uncharacteristic. Not being good
at keeping his mouth shut at the best of times, Harry could not help himself
now.

"Are you trying to
be nice to me?" he really wasn't quite sure, and he almost felt like the
condemned man being given anything he wanted as a last meal.

Snape looked at him coolly
for a moment and then inclined his head slightly.

"It is not a role
I fit well, Mr Potter," the man admitted, "I shall desist if it bothers
you."

Harry boiled over and lunged
at the door. His hand connected with the handle and he felt the wards trying
to fight him off, but he was not about to let them win. There were some very
serious locking charms and powerful barrier magic between him and the outside,
but he didn't remotely care. Letting the banshee'stinctincts and a collection
of other talents rise to the surface, he twisted the handle viciously and wrenched
open the door. The Aurors on either side of the door jumped back instantly,
drawing their wands and rounding on him.

"Albus Dumbledore
or Minerva McGonagall, now!" Harry bellowed at the startled Ministry employees
and then he stepped back into the room and slammed the door very loudly.

If that had not woken up
the whole manor he didn't know what would. His first impulse was to wipe the
opposition out of the way and go and find Dumbledore himself, but he knew that
would probably end up with people injured or killed and he did not want any
more death on his conscience. Knowing that whatever happened would take a few
minutes he began to pace.

He was only just holding
on to himself when the door finally opened to reveal the headmaster and Remus.
Remus looked as if he had just woken up, but Dumbledore appeared as fresh as
a daisy.

"What is it, Harry?" he hhe headmaster asked calmly as Remus shut the door behind them

"Malfoy," Harry
replied firmly.

The other two wizards shared
a look and Harry was pretty sure they thought he had gone over the edge.

"You can't let them
take him to the Ministry tomorrow," he elucidated quickly, "there
is..." he found he couldn't say it, "and he..." something stopped
the words in his throat, "he's going to die," he finished without
being able to explain at all.

"How do you know,
Harry?" Remus asked in his usual calm tone.

Harry opened his mouth
to tell his friend about the dream and nothing came out. He tried again to explain
what he had seen and still no words.

"He's going to die,"
he said eventually, totally unable to express himself in any other way.

It was completely bizarre
and yet he could not say anything else.

"Did you have a premonition,
Harry?" Dumbledore asked kindly and Harry was never more relieved to have
the perceptive old wizard around.

He nodded and gave up trying
to speak when all that started in his throat was a peculiar little whine. The
urge to scream what he knew from the nearest window was incredible and yet he
could not even form a single word.

"The curse of the
banshee," Dumbledore observed calmly; "the ability to predict death,
but being totally unable to communicate to prevent that death, being left with
nothing but a deadly cry to announce their grief to the universe."

Harry opened his eyes in
surprise; it all seemed to make sense when the headmaster explained it.

"Well done, My Boy,"
Dumbledore told him, "that must have taken great force of will. I shall
go and explain the situation to the Ministry team and I am sure other arrangements
can be made."

Harry sagged with relief.

"All will be well,
Harry," the headmaster said kindly, "don't you worry. Do try to get
some more sleep; I suspect tomorrow is going to be a long day."

It was with almost complete
certainty that he would not be sleeping again that night that Harry nodded anyway.
He might be sitting up until dawn, but he did not want to cause anyone else
the same discomfort.

"Thank you,"
he said quietly; his voice having returned now that he was no longer trying
to speak about Malfoy.

"Are you going to
be all right, Harry?" Remus asked in a concerned tone and Harry gave his
friend a quick affirmative.

It was not going to be
a fun night, and he needed to put some of his demons back where they belonged,
but he would be okay. Knowing that Dumbledore would not allow anything to happen
to one of his students, Harry sank back on to the bed as the two wizards left.
He hoped fervently that he would not have these visions often.

====

Breakfast arrived some
time after the sun came up, and the cheerful house elf presented him with the
tray and basked in his thanks. He had the feeling that Malfoy house elves were
not used to kind words from their masters. Some of the smells coming from the
tray actually appealed to him, but other things, which he had been quite fond
of, turned his stomach just to look at them. Eating carefully what his nose
found appetising he picked his way round the breakfast tray and actually managed
to enjoy it.

It wasn't until he had
finished and was looking out of the window that anything odd occurred. Usually
the house elf came back to pick up the tray, but this time the door opened and
one of his Auror guards walked in. Harry held himself perfectly still and watched
as the man looked at his half eaten breakfast.

"You didn't eat you
porridge," the Auror said in an almost conversational tone, "want
me to leave it?"

"Um, no thank you,"
Harry replied, rather surprised that he had been spoken to.

"Anything else I can
get you?" the man persisted, which Harry found very odd.

The couple of times he
had seen his guards when the door opened to admit someone they had acted as
if he didn't exist; that this wizard appeared to be trying to be pleasant caused
all sorts of alarm bells to go off. Letting just a little of the creature within
free he assessed his guard. Under the polite veneer the man was nervous and
somewhat annoyed.

"No thank you,"
Harry replied evenly, "I'm not very hungry."For a moment he thought
the Auror might push the issue, but the man eventually nodded and picked up
the tray. As his guard left and the door was once again closed, Harry let one
of his aspects even closer to the surface and extended his hearing further than
normal.

"He didn't eat the
porridge," he heard the Auror say.

"But that McGonagall
woman said it was his favourite, I heard her tell the house elf," the familiar
tones of Caveo said in a very annoyed fashion. "How the hell are we supposed
to put him out for the trip now?"

Harry found himself growling;
they had tried to drug him. It took a great deal of self control not to wrench
the door off its hinges and tell the Auror exactly what he thought of that idea.
The wards had been strengthened since he'd decimated them, but he was not under
the illusion they would hold him if he wanted out. Thanking his rebellious stomach
for saving him from whatever concoction the Ministry people had decided to feed
him he sat down and tried to decide what he could do to prevent them trying
again.

====

By refusing any further
offers of food and drink, Harry knew he was frustrating the efforts of the Aurors
to subdue him, and he quite enjoyed it. He also made regular requests to see
Dumbledore over the next hour and a half, but it did no good and he doubted
his requests were even being passed on. He smelt a very large rat and he was
beginning to seriously consider freeing himself and bypassing the Ministry.
The only thing that kept him in his room was the fact that he did not trust
himself.

In the end he decided to
practice his Occlumency some more; at least that was productive and then he
would be ready for anything that might happen. As it was, he was totally unprepared
for what did occur.

One moment he was trying
to close his thoughts down and eliminate any emotional reactions from his mind
and the next he was so consumed with despair that he had no chance to stop the
cry that started in the centre of his chest and erupted from his throat. It
was worse than the wail he had released after he had killed Voldemort and it
actually caused physical destruction in its wake. Furniture shook; glass shattered
and wards tumbled down as banshee power combined with everything else in Harry's
mixed up body and refused to be impotent anymore.

He knew without a doubt
that Malfoy was being taken to the Ministry; he had never been so sure of anything
in his life and he knew that it was a death sentence. There was no hesitation
in his movements as he surged to his feet and ran for the shattered window,
smashing through what was left of the ornate glass to the ground below. For
a split second his body almost hovered as he descended, landing lightly on the
grass below the second floor window, but the moment he hit the ground he shifted.

wolfwolf was faster than
anything else and he ran as quickly as his legs would carry him towards the
front of the house. Nothing would have stopped him as he focussed only on one
thing: preventing Malfoy leaving. When he rounded the side of the building on
to the main drive he saw two Aurors about to put Malfoy into a Ministry car
and he did not even think about pausing as he leapt at the nearest of the two
officials.

Wolf met man and Harry
flattened the unprepared Auror with his considerable bulk, then without hesitating
he took a mouthful of Malfoy's robes and dragged him away from the car. Unprepared
for the attack, the Slytherin overbalanced and fell heavily, rolling off the
drive and on to the grass. Once his prize stopped moving Harry jumped to stand
over the fallen wizard, facing the Aurors and growling menacingly.

His opponents rounded on
him with spells and he shifted form without even knowing he was doing it. His
vision dimmed and the air around him grew cold as the magic bounced off of him
harmlessly. The Aurors existed in his sight as bright spots of warmth and life
and he was torn between trying to take that life and protecting the warmth he
felt behind him.

"Expecto Patronum,"
one of the Aurors cast desperately and bright silver light filled Harry's awareness.

He shifted again, the world
becoming flat and lifeless to his eyes as his sense of smell sharpened until
it was almost overwhelming. He felt the skin of his neck change texture and
stiffen and his tongue lengthen and fork. The Patronus coming towards him faded
as its reason to be ceased to exist.

"By Merlin,"
one of the Aurors said as Harry looked at him, hissing his anger, and then the
man turned to stone.

The other Auror threw his
arms over his eyes and dived behind the car. The throf tof the hunt almost drew
Harry away from his position, but he shifted again, holding himself in place
with the enticing thrill of a human heartbeat.

"Enough of this!"
Harry had never heard Dumbledore shout and he suddenly knew why; at the headmasters
instruction it was almost as if the universe came to a standstill.

He crouched down automatically,
sensing danger and wanting to protect the human that was his. He snarled as
the Auror behind the car came up with his wand in hand, but the wizard's arm
went back and his wand went flying to the side as Dumbledore showed that he
was serious.

"What is going on
here?" the headmaster demanded as a hoard of the man's colleagues came
charging out of the door from which Dumbledore had emerged previously.

Caveo was in the lead of
his team and Harry growled loudly as he saw the man; the desire to attack was
like a drug in his system and only one thing held him back. A light touch on
his ankle brought his focus right back to where he was and he looked down to
see a composed, but shaken Malfoy looking back at him.

"Take him down,"
Caveo ordered, causing Harry to flick right to the battle.

"Hold," Dumbledore
countered with such authority that every single Auror obeyed, even Caveo.

Harry bared his teeth,
ready to defend himself and Malfoy, but the tableau held.

"Do you really wish
to end you life so soon, Auror Caveo?" Dumbledore asked evenly; his voice
not back to its usual calm, but the terror inducing power cut down to a minimum.

"We have a duty to
protect the public," the Auror replied firmly, "he cannot be allowed
to get away."

"I do not believe
Harry is going anywhere," the headmaster pointed out smoothly.

It did not seem to have
occurred to Caveo that Harry was not trying to escape and the wizard appeared
rather floored by the notion.

"Where were you taking
Mr Malfoy?" Dumbledore continued, completely in control of the situation.

"The Ministry, as
per regulations," Caveo replied rigidly.

When the amused twinkle
was not in the headmaster's eye he could be a most scary individual; even Harry
could appreciate that and at the moment he was feeling very scary himself.

"I do not make it
a habit of warning of danger for my health," Dumbledore said evenly; "you
are a fool young man and I can only hope you live to understand how much of
one. By the power vested in my by the Wizengamot I relieve you of your duty,
Auror Caveo; remove yourself from this property immediately."

"You can't do that,"
the Auror said incredulously.

"Actually, he can,"
Tonks said from behind him, "article three hundred and five, paragraph
two: Any chief official of the Wizengamot may relieve an Auror of his or her
duty if they deem them negligent in the care of their prisoner and in so being,
deliberately endanger the afore mentioned prisoner's life."

The currently red haired
(as in scarlet) Auror was not even trying to hide how much she was enjoying
this. Harry could feel the animosity for Caveo coming off her in waves. The
desire to give the wizard something to remember him by was quite tempting, but
the fingers on his ankle held him at bay.

Caveo glared around the
group and realising that he had no support at all stormed towards the front
gate; Dumbledore immediately took charge.

"Gentlemen, Ladies,"
the headmaster started politely, "it appears we have injured parties. There
are two of your number outside Mr Potter's room suffering from exposure to a
banshee's cry, and Auror Jones appears to have been petrified. I suggest arrangements
be made to remove all three to St Mungo's as soon as possible for treatment."

Suddenly people began to
move and Harry found the activity very unsettling, he almost backed away when
Dumbledore walked towards him.

"Harry, My Dear Boy,"
the headmaster said, slipping off his purple outer robe to reveal a bright blue
one underneath, "you appear to have lost your clothes again."

Placating words probably
wouldn't have worked, but Dumbledore's off hand comment was so out of the blue
that Harry did not even try to object as the robe was draped across his shoulders
and his mind tried to catch up.

"It is nearly December,"
the seemingly batty old man said conversationally, "you will catch a terrible
cold if you are not careful. Remus, if you would be so kind as to assist Mr
Malfoy."

The headmaster's approach
was so completely normal that Harry never even tried to resist as he was steered
back towards the house. Before he really knew what was happening he was installed
in a large wingback chair, in front of a nice warm fire, still wrapped in Dumbledore's
robe, and with a steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hands. Malfoy had been
placed in a similar chair on the other side of the hearth and treated in exactly
the same manner. Since Malfoy was right where he could see him, Harry found
that he could control any inappropriate urges.

He sniffed warily at the
hot chocolate, unsure whether the treatment for Dementor exposure might cause
a bad reaction, but it smelt appetising and he took a tentative sip. It tasted
remarkably good and he found himself relaxing slightly despite the situation.

Dumbledore was conferring
with Tonks, Kingsley and Remus over by the door, which left Harry and Malfoy
looking at each other. Harry didn't really know what to do; how did you talk
to someone you had raped and then mauled?

"That banshee wail
was for me?" Malfoy eventually asked as the silence drew out.

Opening his mouth to reply
Harry found that he was once again without voice and just nodded. Half of him
could not meet Malfoy's eyes and the other half wanted to stride across the
room and make a claim; he settled for staring at his mug in hopes that what
he was thinking would not show on his face.

"You saved me again,"
Malfoy said wryly. "Trying to make a new career for yourself, Potter?"

Harry looked up sharply,
not sure if the Slytherin was making fun of him and he caught Malfoy's grey-eyed
gaze as anger gave him momentary courage. To his surprise his companion raised
an eyebrow and smiled at him. Harry looked away again as Dumbledore walked over.

"It is time to make
sure you are both safe," the headmaster said pleasantly. "The news
of Voldemort's demise is being officially announced today and I believe you
will both be much more comfortable away from here. It has been decided to return
to Hogwarts."

Harry went completely cold
and did not bother to try and hide his shock and his fear.

"The children,"
Harry whispered as his mind filled with all sorts of nasty possibilities; part
of him looked at the school like a feast laid out for his delight.

"For once I find myself
agreeing with Potter," Malfoy said evenly. "I am a self confessed
Death Eater and he is a Dark creature; a school would seem to be an unlikely
place for either of us."

Dumbledore smiled kindly
at them both, back in the persona of the bumbling old headmaster.

"Actually I believe
it to be the safest place for both of you," Dumbledore explained patiently;
"Hogwarts has some unique properties which make it perfect for our needs.
You Mr Malfoy cannot be taken to the Ministry, and until such time as you are
cleared of charges, Young Man, you must remain in a secured location. There
are ancient precautions at Hogwarts which will allow you to be spelled so that
you cannot leave the grounds, but you will be free to roam."

It did not seem to be anywhere
in Dumbledore's mindset that Malfoy might not be cleared, which Harry actually
appreciated, because he wasn't sure what he would do if the Ministry tried anything
with his human.

"And, Harry,"
the headmaster continued, "you are far too powerful for any measures the
Ministry might take against you. The Department of Mysteries is probably the
only place that might have somewhere remotely powerful enough to keep you secure
and I think it would be better for everyone concerned that you not be put through
the stress of returning there. I believe therefore that there is only one other
place that will hold you for your own as well as others' safety; a place which
is the sum of the founder's genius: the Room of Requirement."

For a moment Harry was
not sure he understood correctly, and then he realised that Dumbledore was probably
correct. The room was adaptive; if the headmaster required it of it, the room
could probably keep him in. If the founders could not hold him, what could?

"When do we leave?"
Harry asked quietly, shrinking int into the robe just a little bit more as
he tried to take comfort in the fact that there might be one place he could
be made safe, but it was an empty comfort as he also wondered if he would ever
again be allowed beyond locked doors.

"As soon as transport
can be arranged," Dumbledore replied.

Harry went back to staring
at his mug of hot chocolate, unable to meet anyone's eyes as he lost himself
in his own dark thoughts.

====

Transport it turned out
was a secure portkey and he, Malfoy, Dumbledore, Remus and Tonks all arrived
in the headmaster's office just under an hour later. By this time Harry had
clothes that were actually his size, which made him feel a little more comfortable,
but he was quite frankly tfiedfied of himself. The moment they landed, Harry
felt the power of the school like a blanket around him, and it was almost as
if he could reach out and touch it.

The magic sang to him and
he found himself quite fascinated, looking around the study as if he had never
seen it before. The darkness within him rose at the sensation of such energy
and he wanted to touch the walls to see if they would give up their secrets.
It was as he was fighting to hold himself still that the sixth being in the
room made himself known, as Fawkes launched himself into the air with a trilling
song.

The Phoenix landed first
on Malfoy's shoulder, much to the Slytherin's shock, singing his heart out the
entire time and then the bird jumped to land on Harry's. When Fawkes came to
rest on him the Phoenix's song changed, but was still just as sweet, and Harry
felt his knees go weak. If it hadn't of been for Remus he could have fallen
as all strength left him.

Fawkes continued to sing
and Harry began to become light headed, but it was strangely wonderful as well
and his mind soared free of the darkness curling around his body. He sagged
into Remus' arms, and, for the first time since Voldemort had kidnapped him,
he felt at peace. Nothing mattered, nothing but the Phoenix's song.

Harry woke up very slowly
feeling rested and at ease, which was a very pleasant surprise. It took him
a few minutes to remember where he was and how he had ended up there. Sitting
up rapidly he looked around at a room that was totally unfamiliar, but the feeling
around him was the same and he knew he was still at Hogwarts. This had to be
the Room of Requirement, but it was like he had never seen it before. He was
sitting on a large four poster bed that had deep red sheets, just like in Gryffindor
tower. There was an open door to the right where he could see a large bathroom
and to the left was a library type area with shelves full of books and a large
desk.

Unable to stop himself
he reached out with the power inside his body and felt for the wards around
the room; it was like hig a g a brick wall and he lurched back onto the bed
as the wards threw him off. He threw the pillow next to him in frustration as
the part of him that wanted to be free rounded in anger, but his fit of pique
did not last long. He calmed down surprisingly quickly as far as he was concerned
and began to wonder what exactly was going on with him.

There was a letter sitting
on the bedside table addressed to him so he picked it up and opened it quickly.

Dear Harry,

Fawkes' song appeared to affect you quite distinctly, and we brought you to
the Room of Requirement while you were under his influence. I do hope you slept
well. Dobby has access to the room and if you need anything just call for him.
If you are open to visitors tell Jeremy Kats, the portrait next to the door
and he will allow us in if we call.

Rest assured we are all working to find a solution to your unique situation.

Yours,

Albus Dumbledore

For a while Harry just
sat there looking at the headmaster's neat cursive script; he was home, at Hogwarts,
and yet he felt like an alien. Then again he felt like a stranger in his own
skin so it wasn't as if he had expected to be comfortable with his new surroundings.

Climbing off the bed he
padded into the bathroom and tried to ignore the mirror on the wall as he relieved
himself. He did not want to see the changes in himself, but as he washed his
hands he really couldn't avoid seeing at least a partial reflection and he snatched
his gaze away at the treacherous glance. He was turning away when he became
angry with himself; how could he go through life afraid of his own reflection?
Thumping the basin with his fist he glared at himself in the mirror and refused
to flinch away.

"What are you?"
he demanded of his reflection.

He could not understand
how something so ugly on the inside could look so beautiful on the outside.
His thoughts were full of death and violence, and yet ethereal, allu fea features
stared back at him from the mirror. He was a contradiction, and it repelled
him; he was the devil in disguise.

How many creatures waited
behind his green eyes to devour the innocent and unwary? He had not heard from
Professor Snape yet, so he really did not know what to expect until it happened.
So far he had concrete proof of incubus, vampire, werewolf, banshee and Dementor.
e wae was also his sense of the emotions around him which he assumed was something
to do with the incubus and the boggart, possibly also the Dementor and he had
no idea why he could move through solid objects, or why he seemed to have a
vague desire to absorb magic.

Of course, of all things,
there was also the basilisk: about the only aspect of this he had to be thankful
about was that his skewed version of the creature appeared only to be able to
petrify and not kill with a look. If that Auror had dropped down dead he suspected
he would now either be surrounded by the corpses of those defending their colleague,
or be dead himself; Dumbledore or no Dumbledore. What else lurked beneath the
pale surface?

Reaching out, he touched
the mirror as if it would answer all his questiobut but cool green eyes just
continued to look back at him. Could be ever hope to control what was inside
of him or would it consume him? Turning from his reflection he walked quickly
back into the other room; at least here he had something to distract his troubled
thoughts and he walked over to his small library. If he could not fight what
he was, at least he could understand it, and he set about tryto fto find a book
that might have information about the magic that curled through his body.

====

"Mr Potter,"
a voice said from behind him as he leafed through his third book on magical
creatures.

He turned, surprised to
have been addressed and found that the empty frame beside the door was no longer
thouthout an occupant. A smartly dressed seventeenth century gentleman looked
out of the canvas at him.

"Hello," Harry
responded, unsure of why the portrait would be talking to him.

"I'm Jeremy Kats,"
the man introduced himself, "and Professor Dumbledore asked me to look
after your door. Normally I wouldn't interrupt you, since you have not given
me notice to alert you of visitors, but there is a Slytherin outside to see
you, and he is rather insistent. Should I allow him in?"

Harry was beginning to
suspect there was some sort of calming charm on the room, since he felt more
stable now than he had since he first woke up, and he nodded. If Snape had come
to see him it was probably important, and hopefully the Potions' Master would
have some news.

"Yes, thank you,"
he replied politely.

Jeremy disappeared and
Harry went back to the page he had been reading, not looking up again until
he heard the door clicking closed. When he did glance towards the entrance he
froze; it wasn't Snape.

"Expecting someone
else, I see," Malfoy said casually and walked further into the room.

Harry suddenly found that
maybe the alleged calming spell on the room was only so useful, as every cell
of his body screamed and would have lunged at Malfoy like first years onto the
welcome feast, if he had not been clutching the table as if his life depended
on it.

"Are you insane?"
Harry asked, desperately trying to keep himself in check.

Malfoy was back in school
uniform, but Harry did not think he had ever seen anyone look quite so edible,
and in his case that was literal as well as figurative.

"We need to talk,"
the interloped said pointedly and was definitely not walking back towards the
door.

"Malfoy," Harry
said, his voice deepening with a slight growl, whether he liked it or not, "remember
what I did last time we were alone? Get out before I do something we will both
regret."

If he had been hungry he
would have pounced on Malfoy without a second thought, as it was, lust and various
other desires stirred in the pit of his stomach and he could barely stay seated.

"No," Malfoy
said simply and sat on the bed.

Harry closed his eyes and
tried to banish the mental images that move put into his mind. Occlum aba abandoned
him as he fought to empty his thoughts only to have his very prominent instincts
provide him with yet more possibilities.

"I don't blame you,
Potter," the words dragged him back from the edge of the pit he was looking
into and he glanced over at Malfoy, unsure of what to reply. "I admire
your strength of character."

Harry would have laughed
if he had not been so afraid that the reaction would be his undoing.

"That strength is
failing," he said rather desperately.

The longer he was in Malfoy's
presence the harder it became to ignore what his body was telling him and the
quieter the voice of control was speaking. They were alone, there was not a
raging battle going on and there was nothing else for Harry to focus on: the
Slytherin had his undivided attention.

"Malfoy, every fibre
of my being wants to do that to you n,&qn," Harry could think of nothing
that might make the Slytherin leave except the truth, "please go."

For a few moments his focus
of awareness did not move, the Slytherin remained elegantly poised where he
was sitting, and then he rose to his feet. Harry closed his eyes and tried to
hang on for the long seconds it would take Malfoy to cross the room to the door.
Only as the click of the door did not come and he realised that feelings of
curiosity, trepidation and want were assailing him, did he look up in shock
and realise that his prey had not walked towards the door.

"I know," the
Slytherin said from no more than a few inches away, "I can see it every
time you look at Pot Potter, I owe you for my life twice and for my mother's
once, you can have whatever you want. They have locked you in here with no idea
what to do when the hunger returns; well I am your solution."

Breathing was difficult
as pure, unadulterated lust tried to strip Harry of any control he had left.
The hunger was not forcing him along, burying his humanity in its intensity,
but he wanted Malfoy with everything he was, and he almostchedched out.

"No," he growled,
more at himself than Malfoy and sent his chair skittering backwards as he pushed
himself away from the table and away from the Slytherin, "I don't want
you indebted to me, Malfoy. I don't want to use you; you are better than that."

Momentary shock flicked
across the Slytherin's pale features, but he still did not move away. For a
moment Malfoy appeared indecisive and then he shrugged off his outer school
robe and put it on the table. As Harry watched, caught between fascinated horror
and wanton desire, the Slytherin stepped up to him once more and reached out
to touch the side of his face.

"Maybe I want this
too," were the quiet words that became Harry's undoing.

There was only so much
self control that he could manage and with that gesture Malfoy snapped Harry's
will like a twig. The incubus surged to the surface as it tasted victory and
he dragged his prey to him, forcing their bodies against each other and their
lips together. Malfoy met his passion with equal fervour and the kiss left them
both breathless and bloody by the time they pulled back; each having bitten
the other at some point during the act.

Malfoy's eyes were bright
with the same delirium that Harry felt running through his body and all doubt
fled his mind. This human was willing and his: there was nothing else that mattered.

"Take off you clothes,"
he commanded firmly, knowing that if he had anything to do with undressing Malfoy,
there would not be a lot left of the Slytherin's school uniform.

There was no hesitation
in Malfoy's movements as his prey moved to obey and garments were shed with
graceful efficiency. Harry watched every move and drank in the sight as pale
skin was revealed to him. Malfoy did not even pause at his underwear, simply
shedding it as well until he stood in front of Harry as naked as the day he
was born.

There was nervous excitement
coming from his prey as Harry looked Malfoy up and down, but this was not the
same frightened human he had taken to him last time. The Slytherin stood with
confidence and desire in his stance and it drew Harry likmothmoth to a flame.

He moved forward, placing
a hand on one pale shoulder and for a moment holding himself completely still
to admire what was on offer. Malfoy was perfect and, if his skin had not been
warm, Harry could almost have believed it was made of creamy stone.

The Slytherin was really
much bolder this time and as Harry paused Malfoy took the initiative, lifting
hands to start unbuttoning the loose shirt Harry was wearing. As fingers unfastened
buttons and pushed aside fabric, Malfoy replaced them with his mouth and Harry
found himself surprisingly not in control. Not that he was complaining as he
put his head back and closed his eyes, revelling in the sensation of Malfoy's
teeth and tongue on his chest.

When the Slytherin worked
his way onto his knees, reached Harry's waist and carried on going with the
whole removing clothing and then using his mouth idea, Harry had to grab the
side of the desk to stop his knees giving way. Sensual, warm hands pushed his
trousers and his underwear towards the floor and Malfoy fixed his wonderful
mouth on Harry's throbbing erection. They were too far from the wall and Harry
did not want to bother with the brain power to remain upright. Entwining his
fingers in Malfoy's hair he pulled the Slytherin back from him with a firm,
smooth movement.

Grey eyes looked up at
him from behind blond lashes with the most wanton expression and Harry could
not help smiling.

"Bed, now," he
said decisively.

He had not bothered putting
on shoes and socks after he woke up, so he stepped out of his garments easily
and then pulled Malfoy back to his feet using his current grip. The Slytherin
did not resist and came easily, winding his arms around Harry under his shirt
after he was released and kissing him leisurely before turning and doing what
he was told. Following Malfoy to the bed Harry allowed himself to be kissed
again and pushed back on to the bed. Then the Slytherin went back to what he
had been doing and Harry arched into the touch, enjoying the opening of his
senses as he became more and more aroused.

Not being in sexual control
was a new sensation, not that Harry was particularly experienced, but the incubus
part of him knew what he was doing; and not taking control seemed somehow wrong,
yet deliciously wonderful at the same time. He arched his back, spread his legs
to give Malfoy better access and let himself enjoy the skilful ministrations
of his willing victim. Whatever else Malfoy might have been, he was definitely
not sexually inexperienced with persons of the same gender.

The more the Slytherin
caressed him, the more he wanted and Harry lifted his head, needing to see Malfoy
as his bed fellow touched him. He felt the changes begin in his body as dexterous
fingers played with the inside of his thighs and Malfoy sucked him in deep.
The moan that began deep in his chest came out of his mouth in a long breathy
sound as he watched small ridges rise out of his skin to form little blunt spines
in two long lines.

Malfoy pulled back, breathing
hard and watching in fascination at the alterations occurring to Harry. The
Slytherin's hot gaze was almost as erotic as his sinful tongue and Harry literally
swelled under those eyes. He looked directly into Malfoy's face as he felt his
body responding and when he was descended on again he put his head back and
called out his encouragement to the room in general. With Malfoy's hand working
the quickly slicking shaft and the Slytherin's mouth working the head it was
not long before Harry arched completely off the mattress and came with shuddering
gasps.

His bed partner did not
stop his ministrations until Harry collapsed back on to the bed. Then the Slytherin
looked at him with a very smug smile, which did nothing to quench the fires
of desire that rather than being satisfied with his incredible orgasm were actually
burning brighter by the second.

He pounced as soon as he
could gather the muscle control to move and he rolled Malfoy on to the bed.
His first instinct was to turn his prey over and take the Slytherin as he had
before, but Malfoy held his ground as Harry tried to flip him.

"Let me see you,"
the Slytherin requested breathlessly, "please."

Harry sat back, positioning
himself between Malfoy's legs and looking down at his prize. He knew he would
not be resisted if he chose to insist, but he liked looking into those powerfully
emotive eyes. Pushing his lover's legs up and apart he ran his hands down the
undersides of Malfoy's thighs. He moved his fingers to run them over his companion's
sensitive balls and further down between the cheeks of his arse. The long nails
on his fingers retracted automatically as he chose to put his fingers to other
uses, but what he found was an entrance already slick and ready.

"You came prepared,"
Harry said with what he suspected was rather a manic smile.

"Of course I did,"
Malfoy replied, curling his hands into the bed sheets as he spoke, "I'm
a Slytherin."

With a slight shift of
hips and a little thrust up, his prey made himself very clear, and Harry did
not hesitate to take up the invitation. Malfoy grunted when Harry breached him,
but the Slytherin did not tense and Harry slid in smoothly. The gasp from those
talented lips was one of unbridled pleasure.

"Make me scream again,"
Malfoy said breathlessly.

It was not a request Harry
had any intention of denying and as he pulled out slightly he placed his hands
on his lover's hips and pushed the smallest amount of power through his limbs.
Malfoy moaned and pulled on the sheets, his legs falling apart further and Harry
took the opportunity to push back in. The almost ecstatic panting that came
from his lover as he did so, and the rush of pure sexual energy Harry felt let
him know that he had struck the right spot.

Now he was feeding off
Malfoy's sexual high as well as his own, and nothing could have stopped him
pushing his lover to the limit. Thrust after thrust he drew moans and sighs
and words of encouragement, while the whole time those grey eyes pinned Harry
down. When he reached down to take hold of Malfoy's straining erection his lover
almost threw his head back and closed his eyes, but pure obstinacy seemed to
have hold of the Slytherin and he did not look away.

Harry stroked his lover
in time with his movements and Malfoy's sounds became totally incoherent; the
words didn't make sense any more. His prey was almost there, so close to the
edge that Harry could taste the energy in the air around them. Thrusting in
hard one more time he fisted Malfoy's cock and forced magic through his hand.
Now his lover's eyes did close and his head went back as he came, screaming
Harry's name. The power release hit Harry like a wave and he climaxed for a
second time, collapsing onto Malfoy as the concussion force of sex magic and
sexual release meeting took his mind away for a moment.

When he came back down
from the high, he found himself nose to nose with his lover and grey eyes were
once again looking at him. That gaze was sated and sexually replete and a little
smile played at the corners of the Slytherin's mouth.

"Was that loud enough?"
Malfoy asked irreverently and all Harry could do was smile.

They were still intimately
joined and part of him did not want to give that up, but the incubus was satisfied
and Harry felt his body shutting down accordingly. It did not feel as if the
sexual predator was far below the surface, but he did not believe that Malfoy
was in any state for another round and, reluctantly, he climbed off his lover.
He was not really sure what their relationship was, but he liked it none-the-less.

They lay spooned against
one another with Harry holding Malfoy in a loose embrace, drifting in the post
coital haze. Harry found that the darkness within him had other, less pleasant
plans for his lover, but the voices were very dim and easy to ignore. This was
as close to appeasing both sides of his nature as he could possibly come, and
he did not want it to end. Tightening his grip slightly on his relaxed companion,
Harry chose to push other thoughts away and enjoy the warmth of the moment.

The End
- 1
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Distortion (Corruption 2)