A/N: DracoxHarry, yah yah yah, old I know. But I like it, and I'll keep writing it. So smile and be happy! We have a candy called smile here in Norway… - Hands out smiles to everyone –
Oh, and this is a songfic, for the song "Scars" by the wonderful, delicious band "Papa Roach". Please listen to it, it'll make you even more emo when you read the story.
Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters. But you just wait, soon I will publish my own book, and you're all going to write fanfiction about it! Mwahahahaha! … though, there'll be slash in it, so there won't be any need for that… Oo
Warnings: OOC, slash/yaoi, rape… I think that's about it. Sappy-ness?
I tear my heart open, I sold myself shut.
He had gone again. Out to meet another of his "businesspartners". But Harry wasn't stupid, no one – not even wizards – had business this late. But Harry overlooked it, time and again. He couldn't lose him, no matter how many times he was unfaithful. He just couldn't. and when he was gome, he was the perfect boyfriend. He would wake Harry up with a whisper and a kiss, caressing his hair gently. Then he would cuddle closer, like a cat, and stay there for as long as Harry wanted. He would wash his back when he was in the shower, stroking his slim fingers over Harry's tanned skin, sending shivers down his spine.
My weakness is, that I care too much.
Another cup of coffee. Harry would stay up until the first light illuminated the kitchen: then he would put away the cigarettes and the coffee, hiding every evidence. Then he would go to bed, and fall asleep. Soon after, Draco would slip into the room, his special scent filling Harry's nose. He would slip off his clothes, and lay down next to Harry. He would whisper words of love right into Harry's ear, making him forget everything. He would wake him up slowly, with touches, words and kisses. He would tell Harry he was sorry he had been gone all night, and Harry would forgive him immedietally. He had learned to forgive him over the years. But sometimes, he wanted to be able to hate him with the same burning passion he loved him. Like he hated him before.
The scars reminds me, that the past is real.
Five years. Five years after the war, Harry met the fierce blonde again. In a shop. Harry was still living alone, he liked it that way. He had been shopping for food, he had been visiting Ron and Hermione. He reached after the last bread, but a milky white, slim hand took it before him. Harry let his eyes wander up that arm, until he met the grey eyes that belonged to his old arch nemesis, Draco Malfoy.
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"Draco Malfoy," Harry said, keeping his voice and face emotionless. He had forgotten about the bread. To his big surprise, Draco smiled at him. not a smirk, a genuine smile.
"Harry Potter. Long time, no see. I haven't heard much about you lately. You've managed to dodge the press, or what?" The words weren't uttered with disgust, mock or anger. It was plain curiosity, as if Harry and Draco were old friends.
"Well, they lost interest in me when I stopped talking to them." Draco laughed. Yes, it was a humorous laugh, and he was laughing with Harry, not of him. Somehow, Harry liked it.
"And you? How have you been?" Harry asked, still keeping a calm mask. Draco's eyes darkened, and his whole body screamed 'defeat'.
"People don't like traitors. Even if I abandoned the dark side, people still hate me. And my old friends have abandoned me. But I have a job, and a home. It's better than nothing." Harry blinked. Obviously, the war had been hard on Draco. The Draco Malfoy Harry knew, would never be pleased with a life like that. But he had already proved himself to be a completely different person, so Harry couldn't help feeling solidarity with the young man in front of him.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like to come to my house for some coffee?" It was a simple offer, with no hidden meanings behind it. It was an offer to forget about the irremissible words and actions being done and said in school. It was the first seed of a strange friendship. Draco smiled another geniune smile, and reached out his hand.
"I'd be delighted."
XXXXXXXXXX
I tear my heart open, just to feel.
"Mmm, Harry," Draco moaned, and gripped his shoulders. He rolled his hips in a desperate, yet wonderful movement, urging Harry to go faster. His skinny, white body was covered by a nice film of sweat, and his skin almost sparkled. Being in control of something as beautiful as this, filled Harry with an undescribeable feeling, sending jolts of pleasure and affection through his body.
'I will never let you go.' Harry could remember that he whispered those words, but only briefly. 'You don't have to.' Lie. A gentle, subtle lie, but still a lie. Harry was forced to let someone else touch his love, to kiss those pink, full lips, lips that moaned someone else's name. Those lips, they once belonged to no one else than Harry. But now nothing was his anymore; and he could do nothing. Just wait.
XXXXXXXXXX
I'm drunk and I'm feeling down, and I just want to be alone.
The vodka burned as he swallowed it. Today, it was precisely two years since that night. That devilish, passionate night in Harry's bed. It had been two years, and Draco was out again. And Harry was home drinking plain vodka and smoking cigarettes without filter. It was 2:13 am, and Harry was drunk. The smoke from his cigarettes filled the room, like a dark thundercloud. It matched Harry's mood perfectly. His tired eyes were staring out the window, already chasing for the first golden streaks of day, hidden behind silver moon.rivers, floating all over the land. Harry took another sip of the vodka. Not even the burning sensation of alcohol could wash away the bitterness that seemed to coat his tongue. He felt dead.
XXXXXXXXXX
"Harry, what the fuck?" Draco whispered. He was home several hours before sunrise, finding Harry in the chair by the window, clutching a glass filled with clear liquid in his left hand, and holding a cigarette without filter in his right. When he saw Draco, he got to his feet, threw the glass into the wall and his cigarette in the ashtray. He was in front of Draco within seconds, pinning his hands to the wall above his head.
"Did you have fun? Was it good? Did you even think about what happened two years ago, or was it not good enough for you? Am I not enough?" His breath reeked of vodka.
"Harry, you're drunk. We'll sort this out some other day, when you're sober." But Harry pressed his body hard against Draco's, breathing into his ear.
"How many is there? How many are fucking you, Draco?" Draco went icy cold. Harry suddenly ripped Draco away from the wall, and pushed him down on the floor. Then he started undoing Draco's pants, one of his hands keeping both of Draco's pinned to the floor above his head. he finally managed to rip off his pants, along with his panties. He didn't wast any time on petting, kissing or touching: he ripped off his own panties, letting his hard limb spring into freedom. He parted Draco's legs, before he pressed himself inside of Draco, without preparation or lubrication. The dry limb tore Draco up inside, making him bleed. But the mental pain made the physical pain perish, it was unbearable seeing his usually gentle and sweet lover like this. But the fierce thrusting quickly subdued, and Harry's whole body seemed to collapse. He rested his forehead on Draco's shoulder, as his thrusts stopped. He hadn't reached his climax, his rock hard limb was still deep inside of Draco. Then he started to shake, more and more. For a split second, Draco thought he was having a seizure, or that he had mixed something in the vodka, making it deadly. But then a half-hidden sob escaped Harry's mouth, flying up like a butterfly, drained of all happiness, and Draco realized that he was crying.
"I'm so sorry. I would never hurt you. But please, leave me. I can't take this anymore. It's killing me slowly, Draco. I'm willing to share all of my belongings and all of my friends, but I can't share you. I love you too much." Draco wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's neck, holding back his own tears. How could he hurt his lover this much? Why hadn't he seen?
"Harry… I won't leave you. I can't leave you, I might as well stop breathing. I've never been unfaithful, I could never do that to you. You have to take my word on it, because I can't tell you what I'm doing. But I'd move oceans if you just asked me to. I'm staying with you until the very end, even if you choose to forget me." Harry pulled out of Draco, and stood up. Draco wouldn't look: he had just lost his biggest treasure. Then strong arms lifted him up, and a warm face nuzzled his neck.
"Let's go to sleep. You must be exhausted." Draco pillowed his head on Harry's shoulder, and closed his eyes.
"Thank you for being you.
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A stone was lifted from his shoulders. The sleeping creature next to him was only his. Because Harry did believe him. Even if Draco had changed a lot since their schooldays, it wasn't like him to tell someone something like that. Harry knew they still had a lot to talk about concerning Draco's nighturnal job. But right now the world was at peace, at least in this little house outside London. Harry ran his fingers carefully over his lover's chest, noticing every spot, every white, almost invisible hair, every small inperfection that made him absolutely perfect. Harry bent down, and blew swarms of butterfly kisses all over his upped body. It was too light to wake Draco from his sweet sleep, but yet powerful enough to change his dreams into dreams of pleasure. Harry was going to make up for the irremissible things he did to his love last night. Draco's skinny body wasn't covered by anything else than the covers, so Harry didn't have to risk waking him up by undressing him. He simply positioned himself in-between Draco's legs, bending down to make the half-hard lib fully erected. He licked and kissed it gently, swirling his tongue over the head. Draco made a small, delicious sound in his sleep but he didn't wake up. Harry slowly took the whole limb in his mouth sucking gently. Suddenly, thin, long fingers grabbed Harry's hair lightly, and stroke his head slowly. Harry bobbed his head slowly up and down, making sure to use his tongue to increase the pleasure. Draco moaned softly, and pulled Harry's hair lightly. He rolled his hips carefully, making sure not to choke Harry. But in his sleepy state, Draco wasn't able to hold back at all. He moaned Harry's name loudly, and Harry drank down all the had to offer. Then he blimbed up again, and pressed a soft, lovingly kiss to his lover's lips.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," Harry whispered, cuddling up against Draco's warm body. Draco stroke Harry's back gently, and gave him a small peck on the lips.
"It's forgiven and forgotten. Don't think about it anymore, it'll make you sick."
"What I did was irremissible. Even if you forgive me, I don't forgive myself." Draco sighed and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry. He rested his forehead against Harry's, and stared into his emerald eyes.
"I just want you to forget about it. What's done is done, going back in time isn't a good way of dealing with things like this." Harry closed his eyes, and let his hands travel over Draco's lower back, very carefully. Draco too closed his eyes, and pressed closer to Harry.
"I love you." It wasn't something Harry said often, but when he did, he ment it.
"Make love to me," Draco replied, his voice sounding like a soft autumn breeze. Harry carefully rolled him over on his back, and kissed him softly.
"I'd be delighted."
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After a warm, fuzzy day in bed, Draco left again. 'Don't wait up tonight. I'll be back when you wake up.' Draco's name ghosted over Harry's lips. 'I have to wait.' A cup of coffee, a pack of cigarettes. A comfy chair by the window, and soft clothes. Harry was waiting up tonight too. Now he couldn't wait for the first streaks of day, when his boyfriend would come home, tired. And Harry would guide him to bed, and there he would stay, while Harry went to work. Then, when he got home, he would make him dinner, and they would eat it together.
Harry lit another cigarette, and shot the clock a quick glance. 5:42 am. Draco would soon be home, safe and sound. Harry stared out the window again, searching the cold ground for someone. Not long after, a tall figure appeared just outside their garden. It was a female figure, and when she came closer, Harry recognized her as Draco's mother, Narcissa. He quickly got to his feet and pressed the cigarette down in the ashtray. He ran to the door and opened it, wondering why she would pay him a visit at this time of day. Draco visited her frequently, but she had never visited their house.
"Mrs. Malfoy, how can I help you?" Harry asked, surprised. Narcissa stepped inside without an invitation, looking scared, angry and bewilded.
"Within minuted there will be a man from the Magic Department at your door, and he will tell you that Draco was killed by some auror. The truth is that he was working for the Department, undercover, to prove his dedication to the Light. He was killed dyring another of the many suicide missions they demanded him to do. I'm sorry I am throwing this at you the unsensitive way I am, but I'm taking a great risk being here. I managed to get this before the aurors got there." She pulled a letter out of her robe, and handed it to him. Then she disappeared.
Harry looked down at the letter in his hand, which was blood-stained and filthy. Draco's blood. He was in a haze, he couldn't feel anything. He opened the letter with numb fingers. Three words. So precious. Three words he'd carry with him forever.
"You're my world."
I tear my heart open, just to feel.
A/N: So, the story behind this story: I was watching my cousin for one month this summer, and I didn't bring my computer. After one week, I was getting desperate, so I had to buy a book to write in, and it took me two more weeks before I went out of paper. This was the only story I finished, so sorry if it sucks, but I was seriously desperate for slash. Reviews are love, as always!