Title: Darkness Rising
The high, cold voice hissed out its orgasm in Parseltongue as the Dark Lord finished thrusting into the inert body beneath him. He gently stroked his scaly hand down the pale, gaunt cheek of the blond boy as he pulled out and left the bedchamber. Deadened silver eyes followed the progress of the snakelike man as he tucked himself away before closing the door behind him. A single, solitary tear traced its way down the blond's temple as he pondered the hollow emptiness that was his soul. Draco sighed heavily, sorrow deep in his bones as he contemplated the turn his life had taken. An unwilling, almost dead brood mare for the Dark Lord. That was what his life had become. All because he had made a foolishly arrogant and selfish choice in his seventh year at Hogwarts. A choice that cost the wizarding world its freedom; that cost The Boy Who Lived his life.
Harry Potter had come into his veela inheritance on July 31. He hadn't known he was veela until that moment, and, considering everything that was happening to him and what he had to face, he couldn't really be arsed to care. He just looked at it as another reason for the Dursleys to beat the shit out of him, and for the wizarding world to watch him like some rare exotic zoo animal. Untouched. Unapproachable. Alone. But then he remembered his lessons on veela, and his outlook brightened just that little bit. Veela have life mates, he thought to himself. Soul mates. That one singular person who would make them blissfully happy for all their lives. Knowing this, he cheered up a little. It was the look of cheer on his face that Vernon didn't like to see, and proceeded to beat it off of him.
Happy fucking birthday, he thought bitterly and painfully as he dragged his broken, bruised and bloody body into his cupboard, gently closing the door to keep out the rest of the world. The rest of that summer passed pretty much the same way. He sensed his mate, and dreamt of his mate, of the silvery blonde hair and flashing mercury eyes. He knew who his mate was, and was ecstatic. He had been crushing on Draco for a very long time, and to know that the blond was his mate made his dark world look just a little brighter. So he suffered through the torture the Dursleys felt they needed to heap on him, biding his time until Hogwarts.
September first came with an unprecedented anticipation for the raven-haired boy. He fairly leapt with excitement as he finished packing and dragging his trunk to the car. He sat in the back seat, huddled in the corner, trying to make himself as small and unobtrusive as possible on the ride to King's Cross. Once there, he darted out of the car, ducking as his uncle heaved the school trunk at the boy. Vernon sneered and snarled at Harry, but the viridian-eyed boy ignored the bluster, jogging quickly to the barrier to platform 9 ¾ and darting through. On the other side, he looked anxiously for the silver blonde head, walking quickly to the train. He didn't see his mate, so he boarded the train and picked out an empty car. He was, as usual, early, and hoped like hell that Hermione and Ron would not bother him this year. He was in no mood to put up with their questions and suspicion. He had dealt with Ron's jealousy for the last time at the end of sixth year, finally blowing up at the redhead and telling him to sod off. Hermione's deep, obsessive love for Weasley had sealed her fate as well. Harry had written the both of them off, and hadn't heard from either of them all summer. Even Mrs. Weasley neglected to send her usual birthday care package. Harry was slightly hurt and disappointed at this, but he got over it fairly quickly. All he had to do was think of his mate, and of not being alone ever again.
Draco Malfoy arrived at the train station with his entourage in tow. Zabini, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle all marched along with their fearless leader, looking almost like they were going off to war. And, in a sense, they were. They were going into their seventh year of schooling with the idea that they'd have to make a choice; to fight and die, or to cower and live. Either choice wasn't pleasant or optimal, but they knew that a choice had to be made. Draco, for his part, knew what he needed to do. He needed to fight. He had seen his father's descent into madness serving the snake-faced bastard, and he, himself, didn't want that future. Lucius had sold his son to the Dark Lord to provide an heir, almost before the boy was born. Draco wasn't about to let that happen. One way or another, he was going to come out on top in the upcoming confrontation. He and his friends climbed aboard the train, leaving the trunks to the house elves. Striding through the car, he came to the cabin that Harry was sitting in and entered, not even sparing the raven a glance. Pansy stood at the door, sneering at the boy.
"Potter," her voice screeched uncomfortably. Draco rolled his eyes; the girl could never speak in a normal tone of voice. "What the hell are you doing here? This is a Slytherin cabin. Go play with your Gryffindork friends." Harry looked at the girl, his viridian eyes blank. His heart was going a hundred miles an hour at the thought of sharing the cabin with his mate, but his face was carefully blank as he stared at the pug-faced girl. She started to squirm under his emotionless scrutiny, before huffing loudly and flouncing down the corridor to another cabin. Blaise smirked at the brunet and joined the girl, along with Crabbe and Goyle, leaving Draco alone with the Boy Who Lived.
"So, Potter. To what do I owe the dubious honor of your presence?" Malfoy's drawl sent chills down Harry's spine, and he fought hard not to shiver obviously. He cleared his throat a couple of times, causing the Malfoy heir to raise an inquiring eyebrow.
"Erm…I just needed some time to myself. My friends tend to smother me and I just wanted to breathe." There, that was a good enough reason. Harry's eyes widened at the doubt that crossed Draco's face.
"Potter, everyone knows that the Golden Trio is virtually inseparable. Are you here to set up the ambush? To help Weasel beat the shit out of me?" Though the words were said with a touch of scorn, Harry could hear the tremble of fear. Harry's face went blank as he thought furiously. Have Ron and I really been that bad? Is Draco really that scared of being alone with me? Harry's heart started to break with the sorrow that he had hurt his mate enough to cause fear. He looked deeply into the silver eyes across from him, trying to read the feelings deep within those mercury orbs, while at the same time trying to communicate trust and safety with his own emerald ones. He saw the blond relax as the message got through, and Harry smiled shyly at the other boy, relieved. "So," Draco continued, "what is the real reason for you being in Slytherin territory?"
"I came into my veela inheritance this summer and I need to find my mate. Being around Hermione and Ron tends to be distracting, not to mention that, since I'm gay, they violently disapprove." Draco's eyebrows shot into his hairline at the revelation, and he smirked. So, the Golden Boy is gay. And a veela. This could be interesting.
"So, do you know who your mate is?"
"Um, yeah, actually I do." Harry raised an ebony brow at the boy opposite him, giving him a look. Draco's eyes widened as he got the message, and he blushed crimson. I'm Potter's mate? he thought incredulously. How ironic is that? This will be fun. Draco smiled widely at the brunet, delighting in the pink blush that covered the boy's face.
Draco's mind whirled at the possibilities. The opportunities for cruelty. The paybacks for all the slights, real and imagined, that the blond still held deep in his heart. "Does Dumbledore know?" Draco asked. Harry shook his head.
"I don't want anyone to know right now. It's bad enough that everyone stares at me for this stupid scar. I don't need the news that I'm a veela to add to the staring." Draco nodded in understanding, a faux look of sympathy on his face. I can't wait to tell Pansy, he thought. She'll get it around the school faster than Rita Skeeter could. Thoughts of revenge circled the blond's brain as he tuned out Potter's ramblings. He tried to remember exactly what he had learned about veelas in Care of Magical Creatures, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. They only have one soul mate. The soul mate would be blissfully happy with the veela. Three stages of bonding. Let's see…I have to kiss him to initiate the first stage, then I have to connect with him emotionally for the second, and the last is sex. I think that's it. I think I'll initiate the first stage now… Smirking to himself, he stood up, startling Harry into silence.
"Since we're mates, Po…er…Harry, I think we should initiate the first bond." With that declaration, he reached down and pulled the startled Gryffindor into his arms. Harry stared into the mercury orbs inches away from him, mesmerized by the feel of the strong, lithe body against his. He trembled, and Draco felt the tremors. He smiled gently before dipping his head to the other boy's lips. Draco's mouth slanted over Harry's, and he licked the brunet's full, pouty bottom lip, asking for entrance. Whimpering slightly, Harry's lips parted, allowing Draco's tongue to plunge into the moist cavern.
Oh Merlin, the blond thought dazedly. He tastes wonderful. Like spring and rain and freedom. He tastes so innocent. Breaking him will be such joy. Harry's hands curled into Draco's robes, clutching onto him, clinging to him, afraid to let go.
This is what heaven is like, Harry thought blissfully. I've found heaven, and I'll never be lonely again. Harry never knew the thoughts swimming in the Slytherin's brain. If he had, he would've run screaming in the opposite direction. As the first bond solidified, Harry felt the connection snap into place. Draco felt a slight tug on his soul, but never equated it with the connection. Finally, when air became an issue, the boys separated, and Harry staggered back, falling into his seat. Draco appeared unruffled and unaffected. He remained standing for a moment, eyeing the flushed face of the sitting boy, inwardly smirking at the fun he was about to have torturing the Gryffindor.
"I need to find the loo," the blond said before sauntering out the door. He immediately sought out Pansy and the rest of the crew, gleefully telling them all about Potter. In seconds, Pansy had alerted the entire train, and laughter and snickers could be heard all over. Ron and Hermione heard the news about Harry from some random Hufflepuffs, who were so enamored with the Savior that they wanted to have his veela babies. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust, but knew that Harry would be devastated if he learned that people were talking about him already. Getting up, she left her cabin and went to seek Harry out. She finally found him, hiding deep in Slytherin territory. Tapping on the door, she let herself in.
"Harry, is it true?" Harry quirked an eyebrow at her in confusion. "Are you a veela?" His eyes widened in shock and his mouth fell open.
"Y-yeah. H-how do you know?"
"It's all over the train. Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because you and Ron have been acting funny toward me since the end of last year. I thought you didn't want anything more to do with me, and I've had enough of trying to deal with all the insecurities and jealousies. I have much more important things to worry about right now."
Tears filled Hermione's eyes. "Do you really feel that way? That we don't want you anymore?"
"Yes, I do."
"Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry. We never meant to make you feel unwanted or unloved. We just…well, we're scared. You go off half-cocked, and people die, and we're scared we'll be next." Harry's face fell; they were blaming him for everyone dying. Even his friends felt that he was at fault for all the deaths. His viridian eyes emptied of all emotion and he closed himself off. Hermione felt the coldness radiating from him, and, realizing too late what she had said, cried harder.
"No, Harry…that's not what I meant. It's not your fault that people die. You didn't kill them. I'm sorry. I said that badly." Harry's face remained immobile, and Hermione knew that she had lost any chance of ever making it better. "I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly as she left the cabin. She returned to her own cabin and slumped next to Ron. He picked up her hand and stroked the back of it, trying to offer what little comfort he could to his obviously broken-hearted girlfriend.
Harry's eyes welled up with tears as he realized that his secret was out. The only one who knew was…Malfoy. Harry sobbed out his pain and anguish as it dawned on him that Malfoy had abused his trust. My mate hates me. He finished the first bond to torment me. He's rejected me. I'll die. Suddenly, the tears dried as Harry realized he would finally find release. He curled up on the seat and leaned his head against the window, watching the scenery pass by the train. He saw the Hogsmeade station coming up, and slowly stood to put on his school robes. Schooling his features into an impenetrable cold mask, he left the train, ignoring all the comments, whispers and calls. He forwent the carriage ride, choosing instead to walk to the castle; solitary; alone. His heart started to throb in anguish as he moved away from his mate. The bond was tugging fiercely at him, but he ignored it. He never went to the Great Hall.
The noise and furor in the Great Hall startled the teachers somewhat. They understood that the first day back was exciting, but the noise was especially loud. Ron and Hermione looked down their table, worriedly looking for their absent friend. Though things were tense between the trio, they loved Harry and wanted him to be happy. At the Slytherin table, the Ice Prince was smirking proudly at the damage he had wrought. His friends congratulated him on destroying the Golden Trio, and bringing down Saint Potter. He bowed his head in acknowledgement of the praise, his soul throbbing annoyingly. What is that feeling? Why is my chest irritating me so? Shrugging, he ignored the tugging, pulling sensation, and it eventually faded.
"Attention everyone," Dumbledore shouted. "A few announcements. Harry Potter, apparently, came into his veela inheritance over the summer. I do not know how everyone was made aware of it, but please give Mr. Potter some time to adjust to the news. He will be looking for his mate" here Draco smirked at his compatriots; they all knew that the Slytherin was Potter's mate, "so please do not approach him. Any contact with anyone other than his mate will cause him considerable physical pain until the first bond is established." Damn, Draco thought, I messed up an opportunity to see Potter in pain. "The Forbidden Forest is forbidden. Filch has a list of banned items outside his office. Prefects will show the first years to their dorms. Let's eat." Dumbledore left the teacher's table, stopping long enough to whisper into Snape's ear before leaving. The Potions Master's eyes widened, and he glared at his godson. Draco's eyebrows rose at the anger in the gaze, and he frowned.
As the meal was winding down, Snape finally left the teacher's table, coming up behind the Ice Prince of Slytherin.
"Draco, the headmaster wishes to see you in his office. I am to escort you there." The dour man turned, and Draco hurriedly got to his feet, almost trotting after the man. They walked in silence to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office, where Severus mumbled "Canary Creams". The gargoyle leapt aside, and the pair ascended the spiral stairs, stopping outside the closed door of the office. Before Snape could rap on the door, the elderly voice inside bade them enter. They went into the office, and Draco looked with bored interest at the toys littering the office.
"Ah, Severus my boy. And Mr. Malfoy. Please have a seat." The men sat and waited for the headmaster to continue. "As you know, Mr. Malfoy, Harry is a veela. You probably also know that you are his mate." Draco nodded, smirking. Severus' eyes widened at the news, and he looked at the expression on his godson's face. Oh, Merlin, he thought, what have you done? Dumbledore's voice shook the Potions Master out of his dark thoughts. "Once the first bond is initiated, Harry must continue with the bonding or he will die. If you reject him, he will die. Do you understand?" Malfoy nodded, his eyes cold. I have that much power over Potter? This just keeps getting better and better. Severus saw the gleam of malice in the silver eyes, and he fought not to groan out loud. After a few more statements, the men were dismissed, and Snape waited until they were well away from the office before snarling at his once-favorite student.
"You have already initiated the first bond." It wasn't a question; it needed no answer. Draco just smirked. "You do not understand. Potter will die. With him will die the hopes for our freedom, our independence. With him will die our lives. Think long and hard about what matters to you before you continue on your vengeful road." The scorn and anger in the man's voice startled Draco; he had never considered that what he was doing would cost anyone but Potter anything. Draco was left gaping in the hallway as the Potions Master strode quickly away from him.
Harry sat in the sanctuary he had found in his fourth year. It was a small round room, with a bed and a window. All he needed when he wanted to escape the pressure of being the Boy Who Lived. Now, it would be his death chamber. He already felt the beginnings of his body failing. The soul bond ached and throbbed fiercely, adding to the pain already coursing through his form. Trembles and shakes accompanied the cascading pain as he sat in the windowsill, looking out onto Hogwarts grounds. He had taken time over the summer to learn warding and privacy spells so that he could protect the room from Dumbledore's prying. He wanted no one to know he was here, and his spell work ensured that. Not even the house elves could enter his domain. He was free to do as he pleased in the room, but all he wanted to do was die.
There was a knock at the portrait of the Gryffindor common room. It was well after curfew, and only Ron and Hermione were up, waiting for Harry to make his appearance. Thinking that it was he at the door, Hermione flew to the portrait hole and opened it. Her face fell, and anger replaced the hope.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" she snarled. The blond's eyes widened in shock at the malice in her voice, but he quickly replaced his mask.
"I'm here to see Potter. I need to talk to him. It's about his veela inheritance." Ron's face reddened in anger and he charged toward the portrait hole.
"What did you do to Harry? I know this is your fault!"
"I…did nothing. I need to speak with him. Is he here?"
"No," Hermione answered. "He never came to the common room. We think it's because everyone knows he's a veela and he's ashamed. We don't know where to look." Draco nodded; he knew of many places one could hide.
"Thank you. I will be in touch." With that, he left. He wanted to make the Gryffindor suffer for all the humiliation the blond had suffered at the raven's hands, as well as for rejecting his friendship in their first year, but he didn't want the boy to die. Harry was their only hope to avoid slavery. Harry was his only hope to avoid becoming a human pez dispenser for the Dark Lord. He had never intended to hurt the boy this much. He went to the dungeon and Snape's office. He needed to talk.
Knocking on the door, he waited patiently as Snape stumbled to the door.
"Yes?"
"Sev, we need to talk." Draco pushed past the man in the doorway, and the older man gave a heavy sigh as he shut the door. He turned to find the blond ensconced on his leather sofa, staring into the fire.
"What is it, Draco?"
"Potter never showed up at his common room. The Weasel and Mudblood don't know where he is."
"And what, precisely, do you want me to do about it?"
"We need to find him, Sev. How long will it take for him to die if I reject him?"
"Less than a week. Have you rejected him?"
"Well…he told me I was his mate on the train. Asked me not to say anything to anyone. I kissed him to initiate the first bond. Then I went and told Pansy and the others. She sort of told the rest of the train."
"Merlin Draco! How dense do you have to be? Of course he's going to see that your betrayal is a rejection. And since you've so graciously initiated the first bond, Potter will die in less than a week."
"We have to find him, Sev. I don't want to be Voldemort's fucktoy."
"No. You have to find him. And you have to fix it. Now." With that, Snape grabbed the blond by the elbow and roughly tossed him out of the office, slamming the door in his face.
Hmmph, he thought. I'm taking him off of my Christmas card list.
It was four days later, and still no progress in finding Harry. Dumbledore tapped into the magic of the castle, trying to see if Hogwarts could locate the teen. No luck. It almost seemed as if Harry didn't want to be found. Time was getting short, and tempers were flaring. On more than one occasion, Hermione had to physically restrain Ron from killing Draco. Both of them knew he was responsible for Harry's current predicament, but they also knew that Malfoy was needed to find the boy.
"Draco, you need to tap into the bond you have with Harry. You need to let it lead you to him. We don't have much time." Hermione's voice had become strident. She had told him this the past four days, and he still continued to whinge about it.
"I can't. I don't feel anything. No tug. No pull. No pain. Nothing. Are you sure we're even bonded?"
"Yes. If you voluntarily completed the first bond, then you are connected. Close your eyes and try to feel it." Draco closed his eyes and relaxed, tapping into his magical core. He felt a dull ache in his chest, but brushed it off. The ache was bad at first, but over time it had started to fade, and Draco just figured it was a pulled muscle or something. He never connected it to Harry.
Finally, on the sixth day, as Draco was passing a door in a forgotten corridor, he smelled something rancid, as if something was rotten. He followed the stench through the now unlocked door, and there, on the bed in the corner, lay a skeletal body. Gasping in horror, Draco rushed to the figure, seeing the thick black locks scattered around the pillow. The skin on the skull was stretched tight, and the limbs were stick thin. The once-vibrant green eyes had a dull, pasty sheen to them, and the bony chest was unmoving. Tears fell from the blond's eyes as he took in the last earthly remains of Harry Potter. The smell of death was thick in the air, and Draco gasped and fought the rising bile in his throat. A heartbreaking scream wrenched itself from his throat, and he fell to his knees, horror and grief tearing through his soul.
The funeral was huge, and Harry Potter was buried in a white marble tomb on Hogwarts grounds, near the willow tree by the lake that he loved so much. Everyone came to say good-bye to the last hope of the wizarding world.
The battle of Hogwarts later that year was vicious, and the death toll was massive. However valiantly everyone fought, Hogwarts fell two days later. Harry's friends were the first to fall at Hogwarts. No one wanted to fight without their savior there to lead, to inspire, to uplift.
Dumbledore, for all his power and strength, lost his heart when Harry died, and was unable to inflict any damage to Voldemort's forces. In triumph, the Dark Lord mounted the headmaster's head on a spike at the gates of Hogwarts, to show the world who the supreme power really was. Voldemort's reign of terror spread from the wizarding world to the muggle world. Hundreds of thousands of people died, and the technologies that kept the muggle world safe and strong for so long quickly disappeared.
Voldemort rewarded his followers with power and wealth. Those that chose to fight against him were terminated. One betrayer suffered a worse fate. Draco Malfoy, who had been promised to the Dark Lord since before he was born, became his catamite. Draco was one of the unfortunate ones allowed to live.
Severus entered the bedchamber shortly after the Dark Lord left. He approached the bed, looking with great sadness at the nude, prostrate form of his godson on the bedcovers. Bruises decorated his pale flesh, and his eyes were dead and lifeless. Tears continued to fall, unheeded, from the silver orbs, and occasional gasps and whimpers escaped the pale, chapped lips. Blood continued to seep from his puckered entrance; the Dark Lord never prepared or lubricated before he took the boy, enjoying the tightness and dryness. Voldemort relished in the cries of pain that erupted from the blond, and every encounter left the ruler sated, and the boy more broken.
"Hey, Sev," Draco whispered. He could barely speak, his vocal chords severely damaged from the screaming.
"Hello Draco. How are you doing?"
"I want to die, Sev. That's how I'm doing. Thank you for doctoring the conception potion so I can't conceive."
"Shh, I do still wish to live."
"Sorry, Sev. I'm just so incredibly tired. My soul aches. I didn't know…I didn't know that it would hurt this bad. I…I miss him, Sev. I really do. I allowed my…need for revenge to cloud the happiness I could have had." Severus could only nod his agreement; they'd had this discussion many, many times. This time, however, was different. Snape would finally be able to offer the boy some peace. He held out the vial of potion to the boy. He was too weak to take it, so Severus sat on the bed and gently held up Draco's blonde head, tipping the vial to the boy's lips and helping him swallow it past the pain in his throat.
"This potion is…special. It has particular properties that will grant you peace."
"Thank you, Sev. I love you, you know. Take care of yourself and keep your head down." Draco smiled gently at the grieving man and let his eyes drift closed for the final time.
Severus stood by the bed for several hours, crying out his grief and pain at the loss of two remarkable young men that could have only bettered the world. He watched the body on the bed, staring at the look of peace that finally graced the tired features. I hope you find him Draco. Be at peace.