"Listen." Harry pulled him aside, gently closing the door to give them the façade of privacy. "Don't let your temper take you again. Okay?"
Draco gave Harry a withering look. He could control his emotions a thousand times better than Harry, and they both knew it.
"Well…don't struggle, okay?"
"He's not really going to eat me," Draco said, as more of a statement.
"I don't know," Harry said seriously, and Draco saw more truth than he wanted to in his eyes. "He's not very consistant. He will feed, though. I don't think he'll kill you…but…"
Something else he had "seen done" flashed before him, Draco could almost see it himself.
"But sometimes he does," Draco finished, attempting tact, but fairly sure he wasn't quite making it.
"Yeah. So…just kind of lie there and endure it." Harry knew his words were less than reassuring and winced as they fell.
Draco sneered. "Lie back and think of England? I don't think so."
"I'm serious, Malfoy."
"Yeah, and it's pitiful advice, isn't it? Lie there while some loon eats me? I don't know, Potter."
"I do." Harry pushed back dark tendrils to reveal a mass of pink and white scars that spanned from collarbone to just below his ear. They were not fully healed. It looked as though he had gotten into a fight with a hungry beast and lost, and that was more or less what had happened.
"This is what happens when you struggle and you get lucky."
"Ah," Draco said, able to take him more seriously once again. It did make for a good argument. And he did need to survive this. That it was The Boy Who Lived to Have Emotional Outbursts' job to tell him this was a little sad.
"So…he really is a demon, then," Draco said, hoping to the gods Potter could tell him otherwise.
"Yeah, you know of them? I hadn't even heard of them until I met him," Harry said, a little surprised. "Which is odd, because with something so powerful, so explicit, you would really think everyone would know of them."
"You would," Draco said carefully. No, Potter, you really wouldn't. Naïve twit.
"So, how do you know of them?" Harry asked, and he seemed slightly wary, a little suspicious.
Draco decided that maybe Harry was a little shrewder than he had thought. Just a little. "I'd be a rather pathetic rich, stuck-up Slytherin if I didn't, wouldn't I?"
"You already are," Harry muttered, not satisfied by his explanation. "A suicidal sex slave? It doesn't get much lower."
"Except for a former savior of the wizarding world turned sex slave," Draco said cheerfully, flashing a bright, poisonous smile at Harry.
"Fuck you, you're about to be demon food," Harry said, caught between being offended and smiling at his audacity.
Draco's smile ended as though it had never existed, fake to begin with, and he was left pleasantly blank. "Then what are we stalling for?"
When they tentatively reached the door, Harry first, Hades seemed to have grown tired of waiting. He was almost fully clothed, save for his shirt, lying on his bed next to a slave girl. With his head propped up on one hand, head dangerously close to the girl, he did not seem to be hurting her. The girl, perhaps fourteen, fifteen, was clad in a long, blue-grey dress that pinned just below her shoulders. It was a surprisingly elegant dress with just visible gems upon a pale golden length that winked when she twitched, the cloth dipping down to reveal a flash of small, pale breasts as she clutched at her head. It was as though she was trying to shield herself from the words he was whispering, head bent so that he was mere inches away. Her legs were tucked to her chest, though she made no sound.
Without thinking, Harry said, "Hades. Hades, we're here."
Because the sight of him and that girl was chilling, in an entirely different way than those involving blood and flesh. Harry wanted to say anything to turn his attention away from her.
Hades barely turned his head. His voice came out low and unmasked with playfulness. "So you are."
Harry tried not to squirm under the weight of his gaze. Were his eyes a little brighter? A little less human? "Did you not…"
"Yes. You may leave, Freida."
The girl gladly gathered her limbs, and with one last haunted glimpse, ran from the room so fast that Harry had to hastily drag Draco out of the way to avoid a collision. Tears streaked from her hazel eyes, made greener from crying.
"Feeling better, Draco?"
Harry was reminded of a large cat, one of the majestic animals that he had once seen at one of the visits to the Muggle zoo with the Dursley's. It had stared out of impassive eyes, peaceful with the fact that it had all the time in the world: peaceful with the knowledge that it could rip you apart and that you were the prey and it was not.
"Yes…" Draco had to resist the urge, shutting his mouth shut firmly. What a conditioned and familiar response: Yes, Father.
"Yes…Hades."
He had mimicked the pause perfectly, but what caught Draco's attention was that it was almost exactly like…but why, why would a demon resemble him? Ah…yes, there was that. And that.
"Yes, Hades," Draco said obediently. Mortified, he looked away. Gods, he was conditioned.
"Come here, Draco."
Draco straightened, moving before he remembered where he was. It did not sit well with him, and he had to make sure that his scowl did not show. Why did Hades resemble him, of all the people in the world?
Hades' unnaturally still eyes flicked to Harry. "Get out, Harry."
Harry had to refrain from taking a step back. Was this another face of Hades? Something that was underneath the laughter and the playfulness?
Another greater care overtook him. He was used to this. But what he wasn't used to was the last shred of his former life being further torn. Not Malfoy. He was a bastard, but he did not deserve this. Besides, Harry couldn't leave the room, couldn't sit there wondering what Hades was doing to him now, or deciphering the noises. He would never forgive himself.
"No," Harry said quietly, heart pounding in that way that said he was surely doing something very regrettable and spontaneous. "Stop…stop touching him!"
Hades had pulled Draco up to the bed, a hand to his cheek. Draco would not look at his, cheeks rather red. He was silent, apparently taking Harry's advice. He glared at Harry, unable to shake his head, but giving him an incredulous look.
Hades' hand slid to his neck, and then up the run slender fingers through pale hair. Still caressing Draco's hair, he said quietly, "So fragile."
"Don't," Harry said, but it was a little less angry, because it was making him ill.
"He is mine." Hades' tone was the same, soft and silken. "You dare challenge me?"
The first rush of fear hit Harry, and he wanted nothing more than to turn around right now and leave. "I…"
"Are you out of your fucking mind? Get out of here!" Draco hissed.
"If you're thinking of bargaining, I've made up my mind," said the demon languidly. "So don't even think of sacrificing your noble flesh, because you are both mine, rightfully mine, and I will do as I please."
Harry's face contorted, unable to turn away and leave. "But…"
"Listen, Potter," Draco said flatly, looking him straight in the eye. It took him a moment to speak. "There are some things you can't save."
"I can't just leave you!" a wave of pure, unbelievable frustration hit him. "Hades, please! Why do you always do this? Why do you have to be like this?"
Hades seemed to ignore him, pulling down one sleeve of Draco's shirt and lightly nipping at the flesh. Draco shivered, but made no sound. Hades' did not look at Harry, fully distracted. "If you want to watch, then by all means…"
Harry shook his head, hands balling into fists. He felt his face heat with anger, and snapped, "Of course not!"
"Then leave," Hades said, speaking against Draco's flesh. "Unless you would rather I decide to make you."
"Get…out!" Draco ground out.
Harry didn't trust himself to speak, and left in a blur of shame and pure frustration. He barely noticed when he reached another room, so blinded was he. All he could see was the two of them, demon and wizard.
With a cry of frustration, he kicked the door. It slammed shut, solid and final. He didn't make it to the bed, just sat down in the middle of the wooden floor with his head lowered, held tight with his hands.
He wanted to scream, and the only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that Draco was being more mature than him. Draco, at least for now, for Malfoy seemed absurdly petty to call him now. They were no longer in Hogwarts, and Draco was at Hades' mercy. Surnames seemed childish and far away.
What made Harry feel even more childish was that Draco had been calmer than he; no easy task when confronted by Hades in any situation. Draco had accepted it, had been the one to tell Harry to get out, that he could not save everything.
Another noise escaped Harry, and his fist slammed into the wooden floor. The floor was fine for it, but the wizard's fist throbbed with the force of the blow.
"I know I can't save everything!" Harry was spitting the words, hot tears cascading down his face. Again, his fist connected with the floor. "I just wanted to save one thing! Just once!"
Though one lost track of time inside Hades' house, it was night, or technically morning. It was dark out, that much Harry knew. He hadn't been sleeping well—somehow—and it was very late, but he didn't sleep.
Draco came out alive. Ironically, that had been the least of Harry's worries, though it had been a real possibility.
He had walked past Harry as though he did not so much as exist. Draco could not walk as straight as he normally would, or as fast, but he could walk. This was not always the case with Hades' victims.
"Draco!" Harry called, though Draco was only several feet past him. The sight of him brought Harry's panic-like guilt back instantly. His grey eyes seemed to take in very little, inanimate. His face showed nothing at all, and that in itself was frightening, more noticeable than the bruises, the blood. The only thing that was worse were his legs: they were mostly untouched, saved for the blood running down them.
"Don't look at me," he said flatly, and kept walking.
Stopping Harry from slightly illogical apologies, Hades called, "Harry."
For once, Harry went willingly. An immense guilt had settled into him, and all he could see was Draco's tired, dead face. Something wrenched at his gut, sharp and immediate, and he had to take a moment to rebuild himself before taking that first step. If Hades wanted to hurt Harry, then it would be different. For this time, Harry was sure that he deserved it.
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A/N: Erm, so it turns out my summer was at least as busy as my school year. ((shrug)) Oh, well. I'll try, but I can't promise anything. Thanks so much to anyone who reviews. I will eventually reply…someday.
