Draco stood there for a moment, paralyzed. The first thought was, Fucking bastard, then, wait…
Harry lay on the bed, analyzing Draco's reaction, but the blonde kept his face too well-guarded… not emotions showed. "Is there anyway to get out of it?"
"Not without another, more powerful binding that counters this one. You don't get it, Harry. I never needed the Dark Mark. I was born with it, just below my skin, imprinted on every inch of my flesh."
"What binding?"
"I don't know. But this is a very old blood oath- and very few things can out-do that. I can't think of any right now."
"We'll work on that later… during our free time. For now.. what about Rosetta and Desmond?"
"It will be easy. Just get them to start setting up the ritual, and then we can arrest them."
Harry had stood up and began to cook, once again, and spoke. "Well, and maybe Rhia will give us time to work on your… problem."
"She will. She probably planned all this."
Rhiannon smiled as she observed the two through her scry. Desmond and Rosetta were eager… the assignment, she knew, would take about four days, not two weeks. That didn't mean the assignment would be over. She knew what each of their lives held, the Dark and Light Princes, and she knew they could break the eternal cycle of damnation and redemption. Both fate was a curse- Light and Dark were of each other, one and whole. There were two ways to break the cycle- neither was likely. One would bind them together inextricably, the other would kill them both. And staring at both of their broken forms, the only thing preserving them an unexplainable inner strength that no one could touch, she knew that both of them would select death, barring a miracle. And miracles were few and far between these days.
Draco observed Harry, staring at him so intently from the other bed that Harry had to give up his charade of not noticing. "What?" he finally demanded, setting down his book… A Clockwork Orange, Draco noted. Not his copy, but… a bitter irony.
"Why?"
"Why what?" Harry scowled, falling back on the sheets.
"Why do you let Rhiannon boss you around? It doesn't make much sense to me- after all, you're the Wizarding World's hero."
"Well, why do you?"
"You first," Draco scowled.
"Alright. I suppose because occasionally I prefer to be bossed around. It's a little annoying, everyone worshipping every word you say, no one daring to correct you."
"How so?" Draco snorted.
"I'm sorry. It's annoying if you're not a dominant, egocentrical bastard named Draco Malfoy," Harry stated, lips tight. "Anyway, when I was applying for the position as Auror, Rhia didn't just look at my name and accept me. She snorted and asked if I could obey orders. I went through the whole process, and I was promoted immediately, people were promoted ahead of me… it was nice."
"Please tell me submission isn't your only reason," Draco groaned. Even as he said it, it sounded odd.
"Nope. She saved my life once. I was being an idiot, a Dark Wizard hit me with Stupefy, was ready to hit me with the Killing Curse, she comes in out of nowhere and kills them first. I owe her," Harry sat up, eyes meeting Draco's. "Now you."
"I wanted to hide from… them," Draco said, in a tone of pure distaste, "All I could think of was becoming an Auror. I explained why, showed her my potions and she accepted me at once, working in the lab. This was my first field assignment."
Harry laughed softly. "This is about my hundredth. Rhia wouldn't let me stay behind a desk."
Draco rolled his eyes. "A hundred in two years, Harry, are you sure that's enough? Merlin, I'm surprised you're whole."
"I'm not really," Harry shrugged, pulling off his shirt, pointing at the array of scar. "See?"
Draco was, above all, a Potions maker, and had found out that healing potions (for deep wounds, or scars) were some of the hardest to make. Which meant, naturally, that he always attempted them. And the sight of all those scars was too much for his intellectual side to resist. He slid out of his bed and walked over, kneeling before Harry, tracing the scars with one hand.
"I could heal most of these… I think," stroking the one over his lower abdomen. "That one would be easy… most of these would be." Stroking the one on his left side.
"But this…" lifting his hand to a long one- curving from Harry's abdomen to his left nipple. "This would be harder. It's one of the oldest, isn't it?"
"Ehm... yeah," Harry managed to sputter. Draco, one his knees, tracing the scars of Harry's chest… he was having a problem not imagining Draco naked in the same position. He knew it was bad… after all, Draco seemed to be fine. He doubted Draco even noticed what he was doing… he was too immersed in the whole ideal of how he could heal them, whether he could create a new potion.
"But no… this is the oldest, isn't it?" Draco asked, tracing the final one, which went from the bottom of Harry's neck to his right nipple. "Yes, it is. And at your neck… it would be hard to heal, but maybe I could."
Harry tried not to shiver as Draco's fingers, ghostly pale and soft, brushed over his nipple. "Draco… Draco… Malfoy!"
That word- his last name- seemed to pull him out of his blissful trance at the thought of a challenge, a real challenge. "Sorry," Draco stated, standing up. "But as I was saying. I could heal those scars, if you'd like. I won't start now, but eventually I will, maybe after the assignment's done."
"Yeah, okay," Harry muttered, turning away from Draco. Fucking annoying bastard. Has to go into a goddamn trance and give me a goddamn hard-on and be totally fucking unaffected and just… walk away… fucking sexy bastard!
Draco's thoughts ran along the lines of: oh shit, what did I just do… is he alright… and I swear, if he talks in his sleep… I should just set the Silencing charm now… "Good night, Harry," he managed.
Luckily, Harry had the forethought to set a silencing charm on his bed before dealing with his… uhm… problem.
Desmond and Rosetta were at the doorstep early the next morning, gushing to Draco about the ceremony. He listened patiently, then asked, "When is it?"
"Tomorrow!"
"I…see. Well, this is excellent. Very good," he hissed.
Desmond beamed, looking for all the world like a puppy who had just received its first praise from a very demanding owner, though Draco had never asked anything of him. Rather, that was the worse of it- The Dark Prince never noticed him. He began to leave, but Draco's voice stopped him.
"Le Roi!"
"Yes?"
"Get me all the information you have on blood oaths and the Dark Prince."
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you," he nodded, indicating that Desmond should go now.
As soon as he left, Draco relaxed, his icy composure melting away. "Aw, shit."
Harry smirked. "What, scared it won't work?"
"No. I'm more concerned about when to capture them."
"What?"
"Well, if it's too early, they'll hex us. If it's too late, Voldemort will have already risen."
"Draco Malfoy is worried about hexes?" Harry smirked. "This is priceless."
"Why? What's so funny about me being scared of the Cru- Imperious?"
"Still," Harry muttered, then spoke up. "Because, dumbass, you managed to set up a potion that helped counter the Imperious. Why not make it now so we can make sure we won't get hexed?"
"Because I don't have…"
Harry smirked. "I'm never unprepared. I brought a whole suitcase, filled with your potion equipment. Rhia," he shrugged, by way of an explanation.
"Merlin… fine, then. Don't touch anything, though. It's a delicate potion, and a hard one. I'm not letting you, with your potion-ruining abilities, get close to it," Draco muttered, unpacking the equipment.
A few hours later…
Draco held up the vial. "I think it'll be fine, but we'll see. God knows it could turn into anything… a truth serum, a color-changing potion, a poison, and lord forbid, an aphrodisiac."
"How do you know?" Harry chuckled.
Draco scowled at him darkly. "I am a potions maker. I am required to experiment."
Harry began to laugh. "What, on yourself or on other people?"
"Please shut up," Draco hissed, not missing the double meaning.
"Oh, pray tell. What happened?" Harry sniggered. "Was Pansy there? Did you jump her?" His mocking tone hid a darker pain. Please say no, please…
"No, Potter. Actually, I was fine… after a while," Draco scowled. No need to mention anything else.
"Oh? And how many times did you make yourself come?" Harry didn't quite understand why he was tormenting Draco, past he was angry, confused, and the only thought, the only base explanation was It's all HIS fault.
Draco stared at him for a moment, as if attempting to understand what had brought on his behavior, but he was not a mind-reader and had no idea of what his affect on Harry last night was, though he had a vague inkling. "One, I unlike you, rarely have to rely on myself for sexual graticification, so once. Usually I can get a girl, or a guy if I'd like, rather than playing with myself for two fucking years." Draco's hands, slim and elegant, articulated each word. "With that said, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Harry scowled. "What the fuck is wrong with me? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME? What's wrong, Draco fucking Malfoy, is my fucking life!"
"You use fuck a lot when you're angry, did you notice?" Draco inquired calmly. "Now, what on earth is wrong with your life? What on earth could possibly be wrong?" Saviour of the Wizarding World, perfect life.
Harry snorted. "Everything I've ever really wanted or cared about is gone. And the one person whose fault it is, is standing here, smirking his fucking head off. Good enough for ya?!"
"Uhm… how is it my fault?" Draco muttered, but he had some common sense-and looking at the wreck called Harry, decided to use it. He set a quick shield on himself- Harry would certainly attempt to hit him, and moved over next to him, ackwardly placing his arms around him and ducking a punch.
"Get the fuck away for me, Draco."
"I'd love to, really I would, but I have a problem with leaving people with mental disorders alone. It's a stupid conscience thing," Draco hissed, hugging him again. "Maybe I picked up some Gryffindor habits from you- or simply in the attempt not to be the Dark Prince I started being nicer. Whatever it may be, it will pass soon, so I suggest you take advantage."
Harry turned to him, eyes blazing in anger. "Did youe evr want something-like a family- and never get it? I wanted parents, but I knew that was a lost cause, so I decided I'd start my own family. It's not really possible now."
"Why not?"
"Because… you just don't."
"Sorry, I think I've lost you."
"What I mean…" Harry wrestled with his words, then finally looked up at Draco. "Swear you won't kill me, or something."
Draco raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "Kill you, over a simple statement? Unless it's an Unforgivable Curse, no."
"Yeah, right. But what I mean is, you don't… not when you're like I am."
"A bloody idiot?" But the effect was lessened. His voice was soft, smooth, with no trace of his regular biting touch.
"No. In love. At least, I think I am. It's a goddamn confusing business."
"You're telling me." Almost too low to hear- Draco was talking to himself, really.
"Yeah, well. That's the funny thing. I am, and it's really dumb."
"Why?"
"I suppose because you were wrong."
"Well, I'm sure I've been wrong multiple times. Would you bother to tell me exactly which horrid occasion this was?"
"At the end. When you said that bloody stupid phrase…"
"Again, which?"
"It'll be better for both of us this way." He mocked the words. "You bloody idiot."
"Heh. I'm not the one whose falling apart. Here, do you need to lie down?" Draco gently pushed him down onto the bed.
"I'm not sick."
"Physically, no. Mentally, I wouldn't be sure." That was spoken in sarcasm, but… he was still Harry's friend, no matter what the fuck was wrong with him.
"Now then," Draco stated, sitting cross-legged on the bed across from him. "Why can't you?"
"Well… you can't marry someone if you're in love with someone else."
"Sure you can. Who says you can't love both of them? And there are such things as affairs, you know."
"Yes, maybe so, but it's not- not right."
"And why not? Do you believe there's only one person for each of us?"
"Well… yeah… don't you?"
"No. Statisically, it's impossible, one, and secondly… it just doesn't make sense. No two people are exactly alike, no two people are perfect matches. But I forget…"
"What?"
"You never meet your parents. I grew up with a fmaily," he glanced at the look on Harry's face, "no, no, I'm not trying to shove it in your face. I'm just saying, I know what it's like."
"What?"
"I found out some things about my pa-relatives after their… disappearance."
"Like what?"
"Both were having affairs," he stated it a dead tone, his face acrefully blank, as if he was afraid that if any emotion showed, it all would. Like how he loved them. Like how much he missed them. Like how horrible that realization was. That he knew why Harry wanted a family, knew that stupid wish for happiness, that could, apparently, be granted just if they were here, just if they came. Just if their was the stupid picture-perfect family.
Harry noticed the subtle change, and did the only thing he could think of. Just as Draco had hugged him, he turned, and slowly put his arms around Draco. "It doesn't matter now, does it?" he hissed. "You can't change what's already happened."
"Then you stop trying to," Draco hissed back, relaxing into his embrace nevertheless, because after two years of sleeping in an empty bed, it was nice to be held, nice to feel the sort of relaxation that your body managed to drum up from just the feel of another human.
"I'll attempt to, but I don't think I have to." Harry's head was sinking.
"Why not?"
"Cause… the world has a way of making everything work out eventually. Well, either that or you commit suicide."
"Huh. How… Pelagius. Pelphase, Interphase… Gusphase. I wonder…"
"What?"
"It's from The Wanting Seed, by Burgess. Don't worry about it."
Both of them fell asleep soon after, in a mutual embrace which neither truly started and neither wanted to leave, though both were unsure of the meaning- and their hope for it was different.
Review, please. Sorry for the torment- I will eventually get to the Harry-Draco relationship. Someday… oh, yeah, I'm a HUGE fan of Anthony Burgess. Who could've guessed (author of A Clockwork Orange, The Wanting Seed, Earthly Powers , and a lot of other great books.) Anyway, review, review, review!