It was dark in the abandoned ministry building, but Harry tried to not let it get to him. Instead, he walked slowly through the ruins of what was once a nondescript office building, now raw and gaping. A few persistent lighting charms still flickered, but the damage by the death eaters had been too intense for most of it to survive. He padded on silent feet past overturned desks, countless sprays of papers, ransacked chairs, and drooping walls, in almost complete darkness except for the eerie flickers.
Was that a sound? Harry paused immediately, body tensing, raising his wand slightly, although it had been at the ready all night. He was alone, which was slightly foolish of him, but not exactly out of character. But Harry was confident that, the raid over, no death eaters would return. All he was looking for were clues.
But that didn't explain Harry's sneaking about, if he was honest with himself. If he had just been after clues, it would have been easier to cast a full lighting charm and walk normally over the ruins. But the slightest tingle at the base of Harry's neck told him that, against all rational appearances, the buildings weren't as deserted as he thought.
Easing himself between two shattered walls, Harry tried not to breath, his ears straining for that hint of a sound again. What could it be, it barely sounded substantial enough for an animal, let alone a death eater-
CRACK Something, someone apparated immediately next to Harry, who immediately responded with a stunning spell, but it was blind and flew off course as something shoved him into the wall, hard, and the back of his head cracked against the stone. There was a sharp whistle of air as he felt himself disarmed, his wand flying traitorously out of his hands and into the darkness, but he registered this in only a corner of his mind, as he was still being shoved along the wall. He was snarling and trying to rip off the pair of hands that had such a tight hold on his collar but every time he got a grip on them his attacker would slam his head into the wall again, painfully.
As soon as he had been first hit, a horribly familiar voice piped up angrily, from somewhere behind him. "Harry? Harry! Don't worry! We're behind you!" The reedy voice of how-did-he-ever-make-auror Creevy, and the sudden footsteps of a crowd, coming from… behind Harry? Or in front of him? He could barely make it out, maybe an echo, because it couldn't be both, now, could it…. Harry was focused on his attacker, almost unconscious of these thoughts at the fringes of his mind as he at last felt his fist connect with the side of a head, in front of him. Harry grunted at the splitting pain of his knuckles, but was rewarded by the slight loosening of his assailant's grip. It was all he needed….
Suddenly the room became illuminated with darts of light, of all colors, spells flying high and low. Where had all of these people come from? Harry dimly remembered the crowds, but no, this couldn't be the scene of another battle, could it, there was a Creevey here, and he had been disarmed, oh Fuck- Harry's momentary advantage had been lost in his sheer shock at the evidence of so many more people, he felt the tightening grip of his attacker draw him under the overhang of a demolished wall, blocked from any possible help or interference.
Frantically Harry redoubled his efforts, wondering why his assailant was not using his own wand, because Harry had been disarmed before he could do the same to him, and he had been so close it had been impossible to dodge the Expelliarmus spell. Whatever the reason for his attacker's mysterious reluctance to use magic, it had probably saved Harry's life, and he felt adrenaline coursing through his blood like fire, and he slowly began to overpower his opponent, more of his punches were connecting, he felt his knuckles grind soundly into flesh, and the oncoming blows became weaker and weaker, some even just grazed his sides, and suddenly Harry was furious, thinking about all the people out there who had tailed him to make sure he was safe, and he had led them all into a trap, unknowingly, but still…. The fear, the shock, and the pain were replaced by boiling anger, and Harry knew that he was going to win this fight, and then return to help the others, he triumphantly prepared to deal one more blow, and that was when whoever had dragged him down here finally used their wand.
Harry registered a series of incantations, murmured with effort but decisiveness, and at the same time a blinding light filled his eyes, and his arms were jerked behind him as magicked ropes slid around his wrists, his fists unable to harm the figure standing unsteadily in front of him, who held one hand on the cut and bruised lip that had resulted from one of Harry's blows. The injustice of the use of magic, now, after Harry had essentially won, made his rage molten hot and he couldn't help but choke out, his own tongue feeling thick, tasting blood in his mouth, "You fucking cheat!" and brace himself for the inevitable.
Instead, he heard the strangest sound; his assailant laughed, a rich chuckle as though this was the funniest thing he had heard in a good long while. This did nothing to abate Harry's anger, and he tried to make out the face of his attacker, but the light, some sort of magic, was still too bright and too close to his own eyes.
They were still in a secluded area, but the sounds of the outside battle were still fresh enough to make Harry wince, and squirm in his bonds, and swear again.
To his intense shock, the hands that had just moments before slammed him into the wall now settled on his shoulders, and pressure was applied until Harry was prevented from struggling. "It won't do any good, Potter. You're quite trussed up," the voice told him matter-of-factly. Another sickeningly familiar voice.
"Malfoy?" Harry squinted, trying to make out the blonde's features through the blinding light. He only got another chuckle in response, and despite everything, Harry felt something warm pool low in his stomach at the sound. He was still conscious of the adrenaline rushing through him, heightening his senses, and his white hot anger. "Malfoy! I can't fucking see you."
"I would think that was the least of your worries, right now," the amused voice responded, but obligingly the force of the light was lowered, until it was just a hovering, candle-like orb, and Harry could finally make out the grinning face of his old arch enemy. Malfoy was startlingly close to him, his arms still locked on Harry's shoulders, and he did not look the least bit perturbed. No, in the change of light, Harry felt a thrill of actual fear pass through him as he recognized hunger deep in the blonde's gaze. He stopped wriggling and stood, panting, his gaze locked on Malfoy's.
"Well," he taunted bitterly, "What now? Going to take me to your death eater pals?" He couldn't believe it would be Malfoy who was the end of him, who Dumbledore had tried to save from this very fate. Harry closed his eyes in remorse, unwillingly to continue to meet the calculating gray stare. His chest was still heaving up and down with exertion, his lips slightly parted to draw in air. How badly he wanted his hands free, he had these incredible urges to lay into Malfoy, fingers twisting into his hair, digging into his skin-
Harry suddenly felt fingers grasping his own hair, felt lips pressed ravenously against his own, and with the force of an electric shock realized that Malfoy's- Malfoy's- tongue had slipped dexterously past his lips and was eagerly exploring his mouth. And Harry, still in shock, saw his body responding with equal enthusiasm, saw how his rushing adrenaline could find equivalent release in this as in brawling physically with Malfoy…. He felt himself give a small, involuntary moan as he kissed Malfoy back, harder, as Malfoy hissed when Harry's tongue ran over the split part of his lip. Harry tilted his head to one side to get a more promising angle, once again straining against his bonds but for a far, far different reason than the one that had driven him moments ago.
Malfoy was the one to pull away. His arms were now entwined around Harry's shoulders instead of pressing them down, and the pair of them were breathing even harder. "Mmm, no, Potter, I'm keeping you all for myself," Malfoy breathed into his ear, and Harry shuddered, he felt his pants getting tighter, oh God, and a heartbeat later Harry felt his knees go weak and his head start to swim as he felt Malfoy's tongue moving slowly up and down his neck, felt his teeth digging into the soft, vulnerable skin there. One of the blonde's hands drifted languidly down Harry's torso to slide under the waistband of his pants, a finger at the time, until Harry moaned again, unable to control himself. As if in response, Malfoy's mouth at his neck bit him, hard, needy.
All of a sudden there was a huge, shattering crash right next to them, and they jerked unsteadily apart, as pieces of the destroyed old building began to shower down on them, the fight around them having approached a climax at last. With a muffled swear and another low word, Malfoy grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck as the ropes released themselves and several huge pieces of debris slammed into the ground where Harry had been, helpless, a moment before.
Harry was completely disoriented, and when he clawed back some awareness, although he still felt as heady as though he had consumed a barrel of firewhiskey, he wasn't sure if it was from the fighting or the kissing, but he realized that he had a tight grip on Malfoy's hand as he led him, god knows where. The echoing crashes and shrieks seemed to get quieter, as they continued, however, and Harry was numb yet reassured by this.
Suddenly, they jerked to a halt, and Malfoy turned around and without a word clawed his hand free. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and it didn't matter anyways, the blonde was already darting away, but not before shoving something into Harry's hand, and with a sharp crack, Harry knew he was relatively alone.
He looked down at his hand, and saw his own wand safe in his fingers.
Harry felt his vision blur for an instant. He wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground right there, and think about Malfoy, about what had happened, but the sounds of battle from his left made him jerk his head around. Without hesitating, Harry started towards the fight, quickly picking up speed until he was sprinting, wand up and prepared for anything, refusing to let himself recall anything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes.
Because what the hell had that been?