WARNING: This story includes descriptions of rape that might be disturbing. It is not suitable for sensitive individuals. Please don't continue reading if it might upset you.
A/N: In this story you'll notice the timeline is off. The Battle of Hogwarts took place at the end of sixth year and Albus is still alive. There are also other differences that will come up but the war isn't my focus in this story. I'm focusing almost exclusively on Draco and Harry's relationship. Ron is the antagonist.
If you've read any of my other stories, then you know that a powerful Harry is the only Harry I write, lol. I don't know why but I just can't imagine him any other way. Anyways, for this story, that aspect served the purpose of cutting the war short and it condensed the timeline a bit.
I haven't posted any of my Draco/Harry stories yet, so I had to fix that. I have about three chapters written for this one, which I will post after editing. Thank you for reading!
— CHAPTER ONE —
Draco stared down at the Daily Prophet, his eyes fixed on the image beneath his fingers. The photograph was black and white, but those familiar green eyes were as intense as ever - more so now, without the ugly glasses that Harry had worn for so many years. Harry's pale skin stood out in stark contrast to the dark background. His wild black hair fell into his eyes and brushed his shoulders.
The camera had not been held steady when the picture was taken. The image jerked wildly as the photographer struggled to capture the shot. Beyond Harry, Draco could see that the earth itself roiled like the sea - great jagged boulders splashing up into the air and swirling about with all the ease of leaves tossed by a hurricane. Lightning struck, bolt after bolt. Any and all organic material was ablaze.
In the photograph, Harry cast a furious, contemptuous look at the photographer. His mouth moved silently but the slight curl of his lip made it easy to imagine what he might have snarled at foolish photographer. Harry strode forward over the roiling ground to stand protectively near the photographer and the image stabilized immediately. Harry raised both of his hands and his expression was darker than Draco had ever seen it as he regarded an unseen enemy - the enemy, the only one that mattered. Whatever happened after that made the image go white and then black... Then the image looped and Draco was watching Harry standing on the ridge once more.
Draco's index finger trailed gently over the line of Harry's cheek then his pale eyes shifted to the headline once more: You-Know-Who Vanquished by The Boy Who Lived. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort had fled to the Americas and Harry had pursued him in a long, relentless hunt. Now, it was finally over, a month into seventh year.
He had felt it when it had happened, of course, like every other marked Death Eater. Yet until now, twelve hours later, he hadn't known any details. He hadn't known if Harry was alive. He knew Harry was powerful but Draco had feared the worst.
The article said that Harry, even now, was making his way back to Britain. Draco looked back at the picture, staring at Harry. He was pleased Harry had made use of his vision corrective potion - he hadn't even known if Harry had received it, much less if he would actually take it, once he read who it was from. It gave Draco a bit of hope, knowing that Harry would accept a gift from him.
Draco stood, folding the newspaper - careful not to crease the photo on the front - and tucking it away in his pocket. On his way down to the dungeons, still thinking about Harry, he was taken by surprise when he was grabbed roughly from behind and shoved into the wall. Draco gasped, cold dread curling around his heart. He tried to straighten, his hand seeking his wand, but Weasley was pressed against him from behind. The red-head quickly gathered Draco's frail wrists in a bruising grip and pinned them against the unforgiving stone of the wall above his head. Weasley hissed, "What will you do now, Malfoy? Now that your master is dead, your family is dead, and your friends are broken and scattered? Dumbledore won't protect you forever. You can't escape punishment. You'll get what you deserve soon enough."
Draco heard Weasley fumbling with his robes, felt his own robes shoved up, his feet kicked apart. Weasley breathed heavily by his ear as he jerked at his own cock. Draco tasted sickness. He strained his muscles trying to get away but he might as well have been trying to move the wall he was pressed against. Draco would not cry. He hissed, "And will you give it to me, Weasel? What would your fellow Gryffindors say if they saw you now - raping a Slytherin? Such depravity would surely sicken them."
He kept his voice cold and steady, laden with disdain. Weasley growled like an animal then thrust into him and Draco bit his tongue to keep from screaming. Weasley chuckled breathlessly, riding him as hard as he could, rutting against him with violent force. Tearing Draco open. Weasley demanded, "Where is your sharp tongue now, you disgusting, evil little maggot? Not so arrogant with my cock in your ass, are you?"
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, tasting his own blood in his mouth. He swallowed then cast a fierce, derisive glare over his shoulder, "Is that your cock, Weasley? I mistook it for a finger. How embarrassing for you. I know a witch in Knockturn Alley who could possibly provide a remedy-"
Weasley made an infuriated sound and pounded into him harder, grabbing his head with his free hand and slamming it into the wall so hard Draco's vision blurred and spun wildly. Draco forced a chuckle, "Hit a nerve, did I? M-my apologies-"
His voice broke on a quiet whimper that shamed him. Weasley laughed triumphantly and thrust harder, "What were you saying, Death Eater? You'd like some more of my cock?"
Draco ached for days after. He had limited access to potions ingredients and he could not risk visiting the hospital wing. He would rather die than have everyone know about his weakness and his shame.
Draco tried to eat his breakfast and tried to ignore the pain of the bench against his abused ass. He could barely taste his food. He belatedly became aware that the entire hall had fallen silent.
He looked up and nearly gasped when his eyes fell on Harry, striding forward across the the room toward his usual seat at the Gryffindor table. When he took a seat, he reached for a basket of rolls as if nothing at all was out of the ordinary, ignoring the stunned faces of his fellow students. Then, the crowd broke into riotous applause. Draco ducked his head to hide the silly, happy grin that tugged at his lips. He forced his features into a firm scowl before he raised his head once more, but his eyes returned to Harry again and again.
Dumbledore eventually managed to achieve silence and order. He was beaming proudly as he said, "It is my great pleasure to welcome you back to Hogwarts, Harry. On behalf of us all, Hogwarts and Wizarding Britain... thank you."
He seemed to get a little choked up then, his blue eyes shining. Harry looked up at him with a wry smile turning his lips, "In all honesty sir, I'm glad it is done and over with and I would like to put it in the past now. It will be nice for things to get back to normal, to just be a student again."
Harry seemed to understand the likelihood of this actually happening was negligible and indeed, Harry was heralded as a hero for the rest of breakfast. The other students clamored about him eagerly, looking at him as if he were Merlin returned. Harry bore it all with great patience and tolerance, but Draco could see how exhausted he was.
It took days for the clamor to die down even a little, but a week later, towards the end of lunch, Draco saw an opening and he took it. It was one of the rare times Weasley was not with Harry and the crowd of admirers was thinner than usual. They moved hastily out of his way when they noticed him, as if fearing they could catch his taint. Draco kept his head high and his mask firmly in place. Harry turned from his food, noticing the commotion, and those emerald orbs caught and held Draco's, appearing surprised. Then, to Draco's shock, a small smile turned Harry's lips, "Malfoy. I was beginning to think you had no intention of welcoming me back. Have you come to express your undying admiration and gratitude? Perhaps with an interpretive dance or tasteful poetry?"
Draco snorted quietly, he couldn't help it, "You should be so lucky, Potter."
Harry's smile widened into a grin and his green eyes were shining warmly. Draco felt flustered and shy - he couldn't believe Harry was actually joking with him. Harry replied, "You're right, I suppose the potion was quite enough."
"Do you have any idea how much those ingredients cost?" Draco demanded incredulously, his heart in his throat, "How much trouble I went through for-"
He broke off, because Harry was laughing. Everyone around them was staring back and forth between the pair, utterly confused. Harry stood from the bench, towering over Draco. He took hold of Draco's forearm, holding Draco's gaze intently as he said quietly, "Your gift could not possibly be under appreciated. I have received few gifts more precious or more useful. My reliance on glasses has always been a handicap. In your letter you expressed a hope that we could start over, as friends. That would make me very happy, Malfoy."
Harry smiled at him. Draco was speechless for a moment before he managed a reply, though he stumbled over his words, "E-excellent. You… should call me Draco then."
Harry squeezed his arm gently, smoothing his thumb carelessly over the underside of Draco's arm, "Draco."
Draco shivered slightly with pleasure and he hoped no one noticed, but a knowing light flickered in Harry's eyes. Draco held his breath but Harry said nothing, only smiled at him once more and then released his arm.
"What the hell is the Death Eater doing over here?"
Draco felt himself pale and his head snapped to the side to watch the irate Weasley approach. Harry waved a hand, calling off his friend, "Don't lose your head, Ron. Draco and I have decided to be friends. He gave me the potion for my eyes, did you know?"
"Only because it benefited himself!" Ron spluttered furiously. "He has everything to gain from being your friend, Harry! He is a manipulative, conniving little-"
Harry frowned at him, "The war is over, Ron. There is no need for continued hostilities. Besides, Draco reached out to me long before Voldemort's death. He even provided information that helped me hunt the mad bastard. I have no interest in maintaining a childish rivalry. I want this year to go smoothly."
"He doesn't deserve-"
"What? A second chance? I'm not asking you to like him, Ron, all you have to do is tolerate him. Honestly, you act as if the war is still on."
"I won't rest until the lot of them are punished!" Ron roared. Everyone fell silent.
Harry was very still and his eyes were dark, "You will let it go, Ron. There is no honor in beating the beaten. We must forgive those who ask it of us or hate will consume us."
Weasley turned and stormed out with one last glare at Draco. Harry sighed, "Ron is hard-headed but he'll come around eventually."
Draco didn't believe that at all. Harry had no idea how his friend had changed, but Draco wouldn't be the one to tell him. Harry would never believe him over Weasley, not ever. Draco would not risk the tentative new relationship he had forged with Harry.
— END OF CHAPTER ONE —
A/N: There are a couple dark and really awful parts in this story but a lot of it is also lighthearted and sweet. Hopefully you'll keep reading! If you have the time, please consider leaving a review.