Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor anything associated with Harry Potter. They are all JK Rowling's creation.
Warning: Slash, male pregnancy
Summary: He had never known love. And when he did experience it for the one time in his life, he forgot. When he finally remembers, can Draco Malfoy ever regain the trust of the only person who had ever given their heart to him? HPDM. Slash. Mpreg.
In This World So Wrong
Turn Back Time
Roslyn Drycof
Full of fear
Everclear
I'll be here
Fighting forever
Curious, venomous
You'll find me
Climbing to heaven
Never mind
Turn back time
You'll be fine – I will get left behind
Show me what it's like
To dream in black and white
So I can leave this world tonight…
Draco Malfoy had never led a perfect life. Since the tender age of four, he had lived the life of an adult trapped in a child's body. Or at least that's what his parents viewed him as. He did not know affection. Love? The very word was not in his vocabulary.
Yet he had survived, even knowing in his young heart that it was not normal to see his parents only at supper, and then sitting half a table away from each. He was taught that he had wealth, status, and that was enough.
He grew up comforted with the knowledge that he was the son of the wealthiest man in wizarding Britain, and that he was destined to be great. His future was set.
And it was enough. Even though he would often retire to his bed at night, confusion swirling about in his intelligent mind, and loneliness gripping his heart that wasn't quite stone as he led his father to believe and approve of, it was enough. Because if it wasn't, then where would he be?
His first taste of the realization that it perhaps wasn't enough came when he was eleven years old and Harry Potter rejected his offer of friendship. The boy was scrawny and wore hideous, ill-fitting clothes, but he had an aura of power that Draco was instinctively drawn to. His refusal of friendship spurred confusion in Draco, and that confusion turned to hatred. His upbringing would not let him feel as if he was inferior to anyone else, and so his hurt was masked in loathing.
But he could not deny that hurt that swum around in his breast, and it soon attacked him again. And again. And yet again. No matter what he did, he was never good enough for Potter. No matter what he did, how hard he tried, he was left in the dirt. Potter had friends who cherished him, loved him. Potter was a better Seeker. Potter was Dumbledore's darling. Potter hated him.
And so, Draco hated him more. He, at least, could do that. He made Potter's life hell. He tripped him up, taunted him, and basically caused him as much anguish as humanly possible.
It was fall of his seventh year at Hogwarts that something happened to Draco that forever changed him. He opened his eyes.
Friday, October the nineteenth, he was enjoying his favorite pastime, tormenting the bane of his existence. For some odd reason that escaped him, he had been terrorizing the raven-haired Gryffindor more than usual since the start of school and although he was curious as to what spurred this increase in hatred, he did not exactly care. The idiot "savior" deserved it, did he not? Especially after…after…what exactly was it again that happened in early spring of last year that angered him so?
The silver-eyed Slytherin shook his head, casting the erroneous thoughts from his head. It did not matter what Potter had done to further infuriate him, the fact that he existed was enough to inflame him!
Smirking his trademark smirk, he glided a few steps closer to the slender Boy Wonder, who amazingly wasn't flanked by his two sidekicks. It was a phenomenon occurring more and more frequently, which coincidentally helped Draco out with his tormenting.
"So Potter, I guess your flunkies are sick of catching your cast-offs? It's about time the mudblood actually used her brain for something useful, and so lovely that she lent Weasley some of her brain cells," he drawled, crossing his arms negligently.
Anger flared in Potter's eyes, but he merely stood his ground and said nothing.
This, of course defeated the purpose of tormenting him, so Draco found another taunt that he hoped would work with better result. "Or perhaps they found out your little secret, that you're a fairy. I'll bet that's it. Weasley caught you lusting after him in the show—"
A growl issued fro Potter's throat, and suddenly Draco was pressed against the wall. Potter wasn't touching him, yet Draco felt an arm pressing against his throat. A frisson of fear curled through Draco. So the rumors of wandless magic were true?
"Do you get off on causing suffering in others? Are you a complete sadist like your bastard of a father?" the emerald-eyed teen shouted passionately, and Draco flinched at the mention of his father. The man had been especially cruel that summer. Potter suddenly stared him straight in the eye, and Draco wanted to curl up at the directness in that gaze.
Realization flickered through his emerald orbs and he whispered, "Or is it more likely that he never taught you what love was?"
Draco snorted, hoarsely retorting, "Love? Love doesn't exist."
A strange emotion passed through Potter's glittering eyes, and Draco felt an echo of it whispering through his soul. It disturbed him. Potter's next words bothered him further. "That is not what you said last spring."
Disbelief surged through him. Last spring? What was Potter on? The only thing that had happened last spring was Potter doing something to infuriate him! "What are you blathering on about, Pot-head? The only thing that happened in spring was you making me hate you more!"
A bitter laugh escaped the Boy-Who-Lived lips. "Ah, you've been alluding to this mysterious event ever since school began. What is this thing I did to cause you so much anger?"
"You said…wait, no…you…you…" Draco spluttered, trying to remember what it was that Potter had done to him. But not matter how hard he tried, no memory surfaced. The only thing floating around in his mind was a faint echo of an unfamiliar, rather gentle, emotion.
The invisible arm holding Draco up disappeared and his dropped to the floor, his knees impacting the stone corridor rather hard. He hissed, but abruptly forgot his discomfort when he heard the hysterical laugh coming from Potter.
"You don't remember…oh God, you don't remember! All this time I thought you'd chosen to ignore it, didn't want it, but you don't even fucking remember."
"Forget what, you idiot?" Draco yelled, standing up and glaring furiously at his rival. Why did the emotion twisting Potter's voice cause his gut to churn painfully?
"Ecluoro unec s'avin," Potter murmured, and suddenly images were cascading through Draco's mind at the speed of light. He collapsed on his knees, his hands pressing to his temples. Colors, sounds exploded inside his skull and he screamed as he remembered everything.
He lay on a bed of silk, his limbs entwined with another person's. Strong, callused fingers traced circles idly on his arm, and he grinned softly. "You have a Quidditch match in twenty minutes."
His partner groaned, reluctance coloring the obviously masculine voice. "I'm too tired to go."
Draco chuckled, running a hand through his lover's unruly black hair. "Potter, if you don't get off your ass and go catch the blasted Snitch from under Chang's nose, then I'm going to be very pissed when I don't get to play you in the Championship match!"
That spurred the lanky Gryffindor to his feet and he hurriedly scrambled around the room to gather his clothes, which were thrown rather haphazardly to the floor. They had been in quite a hurry to taste each other's bare skin earlier.
The scene flashed to another one.
The two of them lay curled together again, but this time there was no hurry for either to move. Draco sighed, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of his partner sprawled rather bonelessly across his front.
"Happy three months, Dray," Harry whispered lazily, his breath tickling the fine, almost invisible hairs on Draco's chest.
A smile, once a rare thing for the Slytherin, curled Draco's rosebud-shaped lips. "Happy three months to you too, mon amour."
Harry suddenly pressed his lips to his lover's in a quick kiss, before mumbling, "You really love me?"
Draco stared into his beautiful Gryffindor's eyes and said, quite passionately, "You doubt me? I would die for you, although I hope it never comes to that."
Tears filled Harry's eyes and he nodded, "I hope it doesn't either. I love you too much to let you die before you're old and gray."
"As if I'd ever go gray!" At that, both laughed lightheartedly, the sound filling the sun-filled room.
Another scene struck out at Draco, more furiously that all the rest.
They stood in a deserted courtyard that looked as if no one had visited it in decades. Harry stood facing away from Draco, his shoulders hunched. Draco felt his heart wrench at the misery written all over his gorgeous lover.
"Don't worry, I won't let that happen!" he cried out, impassioned. How could Harry think that he would let something that heinous occur to him?
The Gryffindor whirled around, tears tracing their way down his alabaster cheeks. "How can you be certain? You know Lucius! He'll find out! He'll find a way to destroy everything!"
Draco clenched his fists, fear filling him. But determination overrode that fear and he strode over to Harry and gathered him in his arms. "I would rather die than let him tear us apart."
"Don't promise that, Dray, please don't!" Harry cried out, burying his head against Draco's firm chest.
The silver-eyed boy looked down at the inky-black head cradled against his chest and he exhaled a shaky breath. "In this I am resolute. You can't change my mind, even though all I want is to grant your every wish."
His eyelashes glistening with tears, Harry gazed up at him and gasped out, "Don't play the martyr, Malfoy! Not now! Not when…"
Draco felt the hesitation shudder through Harry's slender body, and frowned. "What were you about to say? Is there something you're hiding from me?"
The boy whom he had called lover for two months, boyfriend for almost four, turned his head away. Quietly, he answered. What he said shook Draco to the core. "I'm carrying your…your baby."
Suddenly Draco, in the dim corridor on the fifth floor of Hogwarts, retched. Nothing came up, but he kept gagging. Oh dear Merlin…how could he have forgotten? The past few months flashed through his eyes, as if they were a terrible dream. All the times he'd taunted Harry…all the times he'd caused him anguish…
Tears streamed down his face and he turned his head up to look at the boy whom had been his entire world only three and a half short months ago. Harry stood there, his own cheeks glistening wetly. "You said you wouldn't let him destroy us. You lied."
His words cut into Draco so strongly that he felt as if his life's blood should be pouring out of him and to the dusty ground. His hands clawed against the floor as he stared at his former lover, and he retched again when he noticed one glaring fact.
Harry's stomach was flat.
He should've been nearly six months along. He should've been showing quite prominently by now. And he was flat. Had he aborted the child when he'd learned that Draco had "betrayed" him?
No. Harry wouldn't have destroyed an innocent life like that.
Then he had to have lost it. And the thought of Harry going through the torment of losing the precious link to the man he had loved with all his heart tore at Draco. It ripped and shredded until his skull pounded.
He remembered the promise he'd made that long ago day in the courtyard, the day before school had let out for the summer and he'd gone home and been Obliviated of all memory of his time with Harry. "I would rather die than let him tear us apart."
Yes. He had to die. He'd let his father find out about him and Harry. He'd let his father tear away every precious memory of his love. He'd let his father tear them apart.
"Goodbye, mon amour," he whispered into the still air, before leaping to his feet and running the opposite way down the corridor, heading towards the Astronomy Tower. It was time to keep the only promise he had never broken.
Breathe the breath of lifeSo I can leave this life behind
A/N: Inspired by Breaking Benjamin's latest album, Phobia, a new story is born. It will only be about four to six parts long, and I promise to finish it. I'm also hoping this story will jog my creative juices for the other stories I'm working on…and haven't updated in a while. I can't promise anything with the others just yet, but I'm hopeful!
The lyrics featured in this chapter are from the song, Unknown Soldier, by Breaking Benjamin. Thus, they are not mine.
Please review, as it will make me happy and possibly update faster?
Roslyn Drycof.