Pardon me for breaking the fourth wall here, but before I weave my tail of devastation, romance, and cruelty, I have just one question; Is it really such a sin? All I ever did was take what's mine. And Draco is mine. It's been said in the past that Harry Potter always gets what he wants. I guess it's true.
Harry didn't normally obsess over things, but when it came to Draco, Harry lost all sense of normalcy. He never brought it up when Draco was around, but Harry had issues. He didn't think it possible for anyone to actually want to stay with him, so obviously Draco wouldn't. That bastard! He's up to something, I just know it.
For seven months, Draco and Harry had been happy, lovey- dovey and all that rot. At first, it had been outrageous, what with the whole "mortal enemies overcoming their differences" thing, but the hype had settled down and the two young men were left to their devices. Yes, they loved each other, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was up. So he decided to do the only thing he could, make sure Draco could never leave Harry.
After candles, romantic crap, and some of the best sex of his life, Harry set his sinister plan into action. "Draco, come here for a sec. I found the most brilliant dress robes at Madame Malkin's today."
Albeit a little confused, Draco came. Something was up. Harry hated shopping, not to mention his supreme dislike of all things formal. Maybe he was going to finally- Draco! Don't you dare get your hopes up! You know how absolutely terrified Harry is of commitment, why else would he still not have proposed?
"Dress robes? Really Potter, you'll have to come up with a better excuse than that to fool me."
"Well, it was worth a shot... I have a surprise, close your eyes. Hey! I rhymed. I'm a poet and didn't know it; I can spout a rhyme anytime!"
Wow. Harry was babbling a mile a minute, something was definitely up. He usually only spouted deranged bullshit like a muggle when- Oh! Shit! When he's about to att-
"Expelliarmus! Diffindo! Crucio!" Harry casted left and right, the spells slowly becoming darker and more painful, until Draco's heart finally stopped beating. He quickly repaired Draco's body to its original state with a few well-placed glamour charms. Cackling like an insane pixie, Harry proceeded to cut out Draco's heart and eat it. Why? I have no fucking clue.
The atrocious deeds that transpired are not anything of which I will be going into any detail of. Just know that Harry found it was much easier to go all the way in when only one person is sentient. And that heating charms can be used anywhere.
Draco was in hell. That was the only explanation. Why else would the walls and ceiling of this supernatural bar be in flames that didn't burn? He didn't think he'd done much to warrant a visit to Hades but hey, here was, might as well make the best of it.
Making his way towards the counter, Draco observed the room. It was dirty and grimy, more so than Aberforth could ever hope his measly, pathetic bar would be. Detritus was strewn across the room, as if no one could be bothered to clean up after the patrons. The place looked like a few tornados had gone through and destroyed all but one seat.
The bartender, Tony, as his nametag read, was grisly, he looked like a cross between a dirty Hellboy and Hagrid, what with his massive size and red skin. Deadly sharp horns sprouted out from the bushy disarray of hair, curving the way a giant ram's might. He looked up at Draco with a face not even a mother could love and asked, "What'll it be young'un?"
Draco scoffed. Young'un? As if he's some tiny tot, wandered in without his mummy? Draco gathered himself up into his most aristocratic pose and sneered with contempt, "I'll have you know that I'm 23 years old, and more important than you'll ever be, I suspect."
Tony wondered at how the boy managed to look down his nose at him from that measly height. "Listen here, kid. I meant no offense. To me 23 is young, I'm 20,403 years old. And if you think for one second you can pull that 'better than thou' shit with me, you're mistaken. The last guy come in here and do that got what Hitler did. Now, did you want something to drink or not?" Tony grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim with Merlin knows what.
Sipping his drink, Draco inquired as to how the hell he was going to get back to Harry so he could inflict great pain. No one messes with a Malfoy and gets away with it.
"If it's revenge you're after, it shouldn't be a problem. Just wish yourself back on Earth. It's like magic."
Oh. A muggle demon. Malfoy quickly put his drink down and wished himself home.
Back in Britain, Harry was happy. No incessant complaining, no worry of loneliness, a beautiful boyfriend that couldn't talk back. Everything was perfect, nothing could bring him down. If people wondered just what had happened to Draco Malfoy, no one asked. Ex- Death eaters went missing all the time; it had been a common occurrence since the war ended.
"Honey, I'm home!" Walking into his and Draco's home, Harry had a feeling of uneasiness. He took out his wand and crept through the halls, searching for the disturbance. No one could know about Draco!
"Petrificus totalus." An eerily calm voice flooded Harry's ears. He knew that voice! But- wait. Draco… is dead. Why…?
"Surprised to see me? Come now Harry, you know better than anyone how a Malfoy is never duped." Draco had a gleam in his eyes, definitely not the kind that turns into a baby. He donned a rather wicked looking knife, it seemed he was doing this the muggle way.
"One thing the muggles do rather well is killing. They're barbarians, what with their guns, and knives, and torture instruments. I'm going to show you pain, Harry."
All that could be heard for the next few hours was Draco's insane laughter, and Harry's screams.
Draco then proceeded to eat Harry's heart. I'll say it again; I have no fucking clue why. Let's chalk it up to the insanity of wizard kind.
Once again, Draco found himself in the bar that was Hell. His pride would never let him admit it, but it was so much better with Harry there.
Picking out a lone booth, Draco and Harry sat. All was silent for a while until Harry spoke, "I'll hate myself forever for what I did to you, Draco."
Draco muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Not long enough…"
"Is there any way I can make it up to you? Anything I can do? I'll anything for your forgiveness, Malfoy, anything."
"I'll give you a chance, Harry, but I'm not sure if it'll be enough. You hurt me, completely betrayed my trust. What the fuck were you thinking? What did I even do?"
Here Harry got up and went over to Draco's side, proceeding to go down on one knee. "Nothing, you did nothing. I don't even know what I was thinking. I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving. I love you, Draco Malfoy. Marry me, and I'll make it up to you. I don't exactly have the ring with me, but I'm sure we can manage without it. At least for now…"
Despite the circumstances, Draco was elated. After six years, Harry finally, finally, proposed. "Yes! Oh, Harry, yes yes yes!" Here he seemed to channel Ducky from that muggle movie, but Draco didn't care. He was too fucking happy. Who cared if he was dead at the hands of Harry? Who cared if he was in hell, even? He was engaged to the sexiest, nicest, sweetest man Draco had ever had the pleasure of knowing.
After the beautiful wedding ceremony, Draco and Harry went back to earth to wreak havoc. Screw Voldemort, they were the Dark Lords. The two ruthlessly slaughtered all veelas, for that was their goal, as opposed to destroying all humans, that was too cliché. They ruled Britain forever and ever, because the dead can't die. Draco and Harry lived happily ever after, in their own little piece of heaven.
FIN. ;)