Title: And Then You Kissed Me
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Words: about 2000
Genre: Angst/Fluff
Summary: Draco Malfoy rescues Harry Potter after he has vanquished Voldemort, but afterward events take an unexpected turn.
Warnings: Language, Graphic Violent Imagery, and Not So Graphic Smex.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Notes: Written for the AWDT "What good would it be to kill you if we're both already dead?" and inspired by the song 'And Then You Kissed Me' by the Cardigans.
SPECIAL NOTE: The last scene is not placed according to chronology. I hope you understand where it fits, I'm just telling you so there will be no confusion ;) (don't be scared :P)
G.G.G.
Blood rushed to my ears, creating a back beat to the clangs of weapons meeting and the singing of sliding metal. Curses and grunts permeated the air as well as the giants' clubs' dull beating against the soddy ground and the crunching when they sporadically would hit a target. Screams were wrenched from throats, spells cast, evil curses spat from venomous mouths, yells of outrage and loss, cries of terror and pain. The rain was spilling down, soaking through the heavy wool of dark cloaks, wetting the faces of the combatants and hiding the tears. The ground was no longer steady to stand on, but rather a slippery mass of brown and dirtied green, clinging to my feet and inhibiting my movements.
This, however, all faded into the distance as I launched the final strike with the heavy sword, sliding it with a squelching sound of flesh into the belly of my opponent. I felt ill, like the sword in my hand had just been driven into my own body, but one look into those piercing red eyes—a glimpse into pure unadulterated evil—and all my doubts about my deed washed away like the water of the tide.
Those red eyes losing their brightness were the last thing I saw before the heavy sound of battle followed me into oblivion.
G.G.G.
When I woke up for the first time it was to blurred light colours lingering in my range of vision, hazy and anonymous.
Potter, a voice hissed urgently, wake up, we have to go, they're coming! But I didn't know if it was my imagination or a dream, sleep was pulling me down with heavy fingers, my thoughts toying with the awareness of my legs and arms but unable to move them.
It felt as though I was sinking, and the voices which appeared in the background were bleary and gruff. I closed my eyes, not able to care about my surroundings, and when I was turned over and hit across the head the sinking turned into falling as I was once again overcome by darkness.
G.G.G.
I slipped out of my unconsciousness to the pounding of my head, pain flashing in jolts in coordination with the thumps of my heart. I groaned and tried to open my eyes, but my vision swam, and even though it wasn't very light my eyes prickled so much that I closed them quickly again.
"Finally coming to, are you?"
The voice was subdued and nonchalant, but the words were sharp to my ears. The drowsiness in my mind was relenting, and I was trying to remember what had happened when I passed out. I opened my eyes again, slowly, and faced a contourless field of grey above me. I turned my head to look around, wincing as another painful throb burned through my skull. Passed out twice, I reminded myself and tried not to moan in discomfort.
I raised a tired arm and touched the back of my head tenderly. It ached and I winced, turning my face closer to the floor to relieve the smarting area. My neck strained, and I tried to turn over to lie on my stomach, but my muscles resisted, and it was with a great heave that I finally flopped over and scratched my cheek and nose against the rough stone floor. I let out a disgruntled whine.
"Huuurts."
A sniff was heard from somewhere in the direction past my head, but I didn't feel up to moving to see who it was. If they were decent people they would introduce themselves, if not they could bugger off.
"Oh joy, Potter. I save you from the clutches of evil, and the first thing you do is complain." The voice was sullen and familiar—but definitely not a voice I could place as a friendly one. I wracked my brain to find the answer, but the more I tried to focus, the more painful the warm waves of blood rushing through my head became, so after only a few seconds I gave up the attempt, opting instead for waiting until my mind cleared.
"Bug off" I mumbled into the floor, dust clinging to my lips as they caressed the dirty stone. The other person sighed, and I slipped into a light doze.
G.G.G.
"Where is this?" I asked, the first clear sentence escaping my mouth. I had gotten used to the lighting, and judging from the grey blur that was all I could see and the floor that prodded uncomfortably into my face, I was lying in a cell.
"I'm not entirely sure," I heard from over my head, "but my guess is Death Eater headquarters." I twisted to look up, but the only difference from the dull grey was a dark shape with a blond blob on top. "They Apparated and tossed me in here with your unconscious and highly unhelpful body before I had a chance to look around." All at once it clicked. Blond, obnoxious, and with a whine to his every word. Draco—
"Malfoy." I whined and almost slammed my head against the stone in frustration, stopping myself in the last second.
"Don't have to sound so tetchy. I saved your arse."
I frowned. "You saved me? Then how come we're in a cell?"
I imagined the scowl on his face as he responded in a grumpy voice. "It was going fine until you wouldn't move when my father came charging in. You are at fault here, Potter, not me."
I blinked and squinted. The lines became a little clearer, but I still couldn't see Malfoy's facial features. "What are you on about? What did your father do?"
I heard a mumble but was unable to decipher the words.
"Come again?"
Malfoy sighed. "It was a Tracking Spell."
My lips twisted on their own volition, scraping against the floor again. "A Tracking Spell? That's almost humorous, that is."
"Shut your gob. I didn't know, alright!"
"Alright, alright." I pushed myself up from the floor and crawled over to the big dark blot that was Malfoy. My body parts cringed and objected to the movement, but it was difficult to carry out a conversation when the person you were talking to was a petulant Slytherin and your sight was impaired.
"So, basically what you're saying is that we're captured by Death Eaters, and became so because your father had a Tracking Spell put on you?"
"I saved you too, you giant prat."
"Right. From 'the clutches of evil', am I correct?"
The dots that were Malfoy's eyes seemed to narrow. "You know, Potter, 'the clutches of evil' is a relative term, and I'm feeling quite homicidal at the moment."
I smirked slightly. "Want to have a go, Malfoy? I'm all yours. Nobody will care now anyway. I fulfilled my part in the war." I leaned my temple against the cold wall and closed my eyes, feeling the woozy haze of a headache sweep behind my eyes.
I was startled when two fingers closed around my chin, and my eyes snapped open to stare straight into grey eyes, so close that I could see the different streaks of colour in them.
"What good would it be to kill you if we're both already dead?"
The question whispered down over my collarbones, but it wasn't until Malfoy pulled away that I realised that I had been holding my breath.
G.G.G.
The silence was deep around us when he spoke again.
"I never thought I'd die a virgin."
I turned my head towards him, but I didn't know what to answer. I sat silently, watching the misty contour of his profile in the fading light as he leaned his head back against the wall and swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing.
I wanted to touch him then, reach out and slide my fingers over his throat, not merely because I imagined it would be soft and smooth, but because it deserved to be touched. He deserved to be touched.
I curled my fingers into my palm and closed my eyes again, feeling the hard edges of nails digging into the soft flesh.
G.G.G.
"So this is it?"
His voice was soft when he answered. "Yes."
His lack of reaction made me agitated. The silent acceptance that this was the end.
"We're going to die and that's it?"
His eyes sharpened and he turned to look at me. "Yes Potter, this—is—it." He scowled.
"Well I can't bloody well have that."
He laughed grimly. "Really? And what are you going to do about it? You don't have your wand, you can't open the door."
"So we're just going to sit here like useless rag dolls until the end?"
His lips thinned and he leaned closer to me again, a menacing expression on his face. "Would you rather I just punch you then?"
"I just..." I inhaled slowly, trying to figure out what I really wanted, but I didn't know, and that frightened me. "Anything."
A blurred hand rose in the edge of my vision.
G.G.G.
It was painful. Of course it was painful, but it was pain I embraced because even though the movement was causing my bruises to hit against the floor and I felt like he'd breached the centre of me, my heart was calm and peaceful.
Two young war-worn bodies coming together, wiry and thin, bruised and hard, with bones peeking out beneath the skin. It's a mystery how something so primal and instinctive had let itself be shadowed by words, repressed by false claims, denied by separation. How it survived everything.
G.G.G.
The world became golden. He was king Midas, his touch was gold, shining shimmering tingling gold and I felt the sparkles flow through me, felt the beauty of his touch. Thoughts jumbled in my head, nothing made sense anymore other than the slow movements of hips and hands, twirling tongues, the intensity in his eyes.
My mind swam; thoughts, stories and memories swirling and bursting into fine dust, nothing seeming real other than the body thrusting into mine, united in a slow dance of souls. Surroundings melted away, I was sinking into the floor, into the soft padding of clouds, but at the same time I was rising, spiraling faster and faster, aware only vaguely that maybe I was losing my mind to this, in this cell, in this body, in his body, clutching what I had believed to be the enemy deep inside myself.
G.G.G.
"I always thought I would." My throat felt a little raw, and I chalked it up to emotional release.
"Would what?" He asked, rubbing his nose into my hair.
"Die a virgin."
He didn't respond, but his hand closed tighter around my hip and drew me nearer to his body. We lay knit together, silky skin caressing new and old bruises, the light touch comforting and tender.
There were no words, but words have never been able to settle anything between us. In all our encounters there had only been one thing to say, and it wasn't until then that I realised there were no words to say it. Instead we spoke in slow caresses, in the shared warmth between our cloaks, in the meeting of lazy gazes, in tingles and sighs and hesitant lips.
G.G.G.
We still lay tangled together when the door slowly creaked open some time after dawn and a brown blob of hair poked inside.
"Harry." Hermione whispered, and I curled deeper into the warm embrace of the sleeping boy beside me.
G.G.G.
We've never been easy, you and I. Always too quick to respond to be able to see beneath the veil of anger, fueled by the hidden passion. I was surprised when I saw it in you. Saw that you're drenched with it too, soaking in it from head to toe, this incredible intensity that thrums in me every time you're near, makes me tremble with its ferocity.
You were sitting close to me, the sharp lines of your face beckoning to my gaze. Your eyes flashed with blue and grey, like the sky on a rainy summer day, and I knew that it would break down around us, crumble like it always did, in the thrust of your hand, the curling of your fist, in the angry words falling from your lips.
Your hand was a rising blur in the edge of my vision, and I was glad that I didn't have my glasses, because then I could pretend that I couldn't see it in the short moment that it hovered there, I could pretend that all there was to the world was what I could see clearly; the curves of your face, the bend of your nose, the soft red of your lips.
My stomach plummeted as your hand moved towards me, my eyes closing instinctively, bracing myself against the bruising pain that would burn my eyes more than anywhere you would strike.
I shuddered when your hand touched my face.
A caress, slipping slowly from my temple to my jaw, turned my face up.
And then you kissed me.
G.G.G.
fin.
There is a much better version of this on my lj, because there I have quotes from the song in between some of the scenes. Well, alright, it's probably just me who cares because I love the layouts I make on lj and I based the story partly on that song. Meh.
Anyway, hope you liked it and that you will now venture into the bottom left corner and review. ;)