Chapter 11: So now there's one.

Why do you keep coming back?

There is no time anymore. It is almost done. I set you free, hoping to spare myself as well. But let's face it, Potter. The game is out of hand now. Out of mine for certain. I don't really know how it started. Maybe it was my simple wish to see you suffer, humiliate you. Or perhaps a need deeper than that. Since the first time I met you, you were mine. I doubt that you ever realized until now. Well, it's never too late, they say. What do you think?

I couldn't do it myself, Potter. So I trusted my fate in your hands. I would never be able to do it myself. I proved that when I freed you. Slytherins run, Potter, when Gryffindors stand and fight. Slytherins run. Should I run now? There is only one bottle left, and I think it's grinning at me in my sleep. There were two, you know, when I let you go. But you stormed at me with a possessiveness in your eyes I could never ignore. So now there's one. And I can't bring myself to destroy it.

To be sincere with you, I never thought you'd be so obedient. I thought you would better die than succumb to your need. But you came back, time and time again. You gave and I took, Potter. Because after all, it was all rightfully mine.

I will not lie. I enjoyed the adrenaline. The idea of handing you control over something greater than sex. But then, time shrank. I saw you gulping down the antidote and I felt empty. You would never answer my call again. I would never watch you scream out and whimper in your release. And you are so beautiful when you come for me, Potter. But there were two bottles left. I had to run.

So why am I still standing? I am scared still. But somewhere inside me, there is a strange kind of relief. Perhaps it's better this way. No more conspiracies, no more Dark Lords, no Malfoy pride, no Malfoy legacy.

You still come, you know, just by the sound of my voice. Because I tell you to, I allow you to. In a strange way, you are still bound to me, Potter. So I will keep things this way, if you decide to come back. Because in the end, you are the Boy Who Lived, and I, just another Malfoy. So let's do, what we do best.

I think the storm is almost upon us.

...............................................................................................................

Harry was still running. He decided against showing up in the dormitory. So he climbed the staircase to where he had seen Malfoy on one of the times he had lost his body's control.

No poisons. No spells. He was free. Yet he had fucked Malfoy against the wall just a few hours ago, his mind numb with passion. He had kissed those lips, felt that tongue in his mouth, as his heart and body exploded. He had come to the sound of his words, like a slave submitting to his master.

His mind kept tracing memories, bringing up words and images he would rather they disappeared.

Fuck me, Potter.

I am still here, I am not gone.

I -can't -feel.

You will come to me. Beg for me.

Tame. Yourself.

Fuck-me.

Back away.

Did you ever feel as if you were falling, Potter?

Do it.

I swear, it' ll fix you....

Harry felt for the first time, as if he was falling. No view could rest his eyes, No sound could silence the deathly whispers in his head. Why had Malfoy freed him? Why had he kept it a secret? And most importantly, why did the maddening desire linger?

Had he fallen for him? In all this madness, had he lost his sanity?

"I HATE YOU" he screamed at the howling wind, but there was no poison in his voice. There was nothing but despair. He broke down, head in his hands, sheltering himself from something excruciating threatening to tear down his defenses. "I hate you" he whispered again and let his mind drift back to the golden strands of hair, moving as the wind blew softly, on days long before these, brighter and silent, when he would catch peace on the blond's features and not pain. No dark desire and potion addiction. Just Malfoy's inbred poison, spat out at every encounter, becoming almost tolerable throughout the years, his piercing gray eyes shining with pride.

But now Malfoy was falling apart, lustful whenever he saw him, willing to let him have his way with him. Harry wondered if many people were allowed to do so. He wondered about the bandage on his hand, what could it possibly be that magic couldn't vanish. A souvenir Draco had said. From whom? Who was allowed to mark his body when he wasn't allowed to even kiss him until today? His jealousy run through him like fire. And the potions he made him swallow? What about those??

Oh, Hermione.

In all this mess he had forgotten, and now it was nighttime.

He cursed and stood up, determined to return to his dorm. There was no reason to get in more trouble. The corridors were empty, and Harry walked them down silently, reaching his dormitory and opening the door.

Ron was awake, and he turned at the sound of the door. "Oh Harry, it's you. Hermione gave me these" and he pointed at the nightstand at some papers "to hand over to you".

Harry dashed to his bed and grabbed the papers, his eyes scanning the notes. Hermione had listed all the ingredients, and next to them their possible effects.

Ability to focus

Pain

Derogation

Pain

Pain

Fuck Malfoy, what the hell are you doing to yourself?

Following the list was Hermione's note, in a trembling handwriting. Harry read carefully.

Harry, I don't know what you got yourself into, but get out of it quickly. The person who makes these, has created a very dangerous mix. I can only suspect, but from the amount of ingredients used, the potion is enough to be divided into 4 to 5 dosages max, that is if sanity is important to him. I fear the blend, while it helps concentrating on one and only thing at a time, slowly drains your energy, providing you with fake vitality in order to maintain a normal image. Should you take all those dosages, I am almost certain that will be the last thing you will do.

Harry, what's going on? Please, get out of it. Get out!

Harry's head was buzzing. He couldn't understand the words Ron was yelling at him, as he grabbed him by the shoulders firmly. He could faintly feel the shaking and embrace the blackness that engulfed him slowly.

I can't feel. I-

Draco.