Chapter 11: Sectumsempra

A/N: Hello! I'm so sorry, I know I haven't posted in a while. I've had a rough couple of months in my personal life. Rest assured I don't want to let this fic die without telling the entire story in my head so I will try my very best! Hope you enjoy this chapter, as per usual, commentary and civil discussion is welcome and appreciated. Thanks to all those who are still along for the ride, thanks for your patience.

Borrowed lines from HBP Ch 24.

"This is such a terrible idea," Draco said, "Of all the terrible ideas I've had this may be the worst."

Harry was practically strutting ahead of him, the arrogant prick. He turned and grinned.

"Mmmhmm. You've already said that." Draco swatted his arm.

"I'm serious! You're Harry Potter. The. Harry. Potter."

"I'm aware." Prick.

"The Savior of the Wizarding World, The Chosen One, Harry Potter. And I'm… well." He gestured to his arm.

"Not anymore." Harry said quietly. Draco shrugged.

"Doesn't matter to the rest of the world. Also, there's also a little matter of, umm I don't know, your girlfriend?"

"Er, yeah, about that…"

"What?" Draco demanded, "What?"

Harry struggled to find the words. "Well, Ginny and I, er. We kind of have an… arrangement."

"Arrangement?"

"Well. Yes. We're together but we're kind of… also seeing other people."

"Like an open relationship?"

"You could say that." Harry waved his hand nervously. "Don't, yknow… Don't worry about it?" Draco stared at him, deadpan.

"And you suppose I would be amenable to this kind of situation? You expect I would be okay with that?"

Harry looked wounded. "No, I thought you of all people might understand having to do things because it's expected of you, not because you want to." He sighed and ruffled his messy black hair.

"After the war, Ginny and I tried to get back together. But… it felt different. It was like we used to be different people. And we just didn't fit anymore. But her family… Molly, George, Ron… They needed it. They lost so much, they needed the normalcy… " He shrugged his shoulders.

"So we stayed together. Kept it together for the newspaper photos, for the holiday dinners. And it sucked. And I loved Ginny enough that I told her if she wanted to see other people, she could."

Draco's expression softened. "And you?" Harry shook his head.

"Nah, mate," Harry flashed him another brilliant smile, "I couldn't keep one woman happy, much less two."

"Luckily, I'm not a woman," Draco muttered to himself.

"Everything I did before, during, after the war," Harry ranted, ignoring him. "I did because that's what people wanted me to do. For once, I want to do something that I want." He touched Draco's cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Are you… sure? That this is what you want?"

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Another Potter rebellion, eh?" Draco smirked. "I'm almost honored to be a part of it."

They eventually entered a large, black, ominous looking door. To Draco's horror, they found themselves outside what seemed to be a bathroom, peeking in. He felt Harry stiffen beside him.

Draco saw himself doubled over a sink, clutching its sides for dear life as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

"Draco," Harry groaned. His heart thumped in his chest. He knew what was going to happen next, but he felt like he had to see it through Harry's eyes.

"No one can help me," said Malfoy. "I can't do it ... I can't ... it won't work ... and unless I do it soon ... he says he'll kill me ..."

He was crying as he spoke to Moaning Myrtle. Draco was surprised to find his own cheeks wet with tears.

"I was so fucking terrified," he said almost to himself.

Harry drew him into a tight embrace, as if shielding him from the next series of events. He tightened his grip as the two boys started throwing hexes at each other, glass shattering and water splashing all over the bathroom.

"I wish I could've taken it all away," he whispered. "I wish none of this had ever happened to you. I wish your father had never brought you into this whole..."

"My father?" Draco whispered. He disentangled himself from Harry. "My father didn't make me do this, Harry. Is that what you think?" Harry blinked at him, startled.

"I chose this, Harry. I know it's not convenient for your little romance fantasy but you don't understand. I love my father, Harry. He made mistakes, believing ideas he was born to. He did shitty, terrible things but everything he did was to protect me."

Draco was fully shouting now. "If anything, I'm just disappointed that he couldn't protect me anymore. The least I could do was to take my turn to try and protect my family. Myself. I did this to myself. I chose this."

"And I failed," He ended with a whisper.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Draco watched as violent slash marks appeared on his face, as dark red blood soaked through his wet shirt. He watched himself, shaking violently, lying in a pool of his own blood as Harry desperately tried to stop the bleeding. All those years passed, and he still felt just as wounded.

"I'm so sorry," The Harry in front of him said. "That your father couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that you couldn't protect yourself. But I swear, I will."

There was such a fierceness in his voice that Draco allowed himself to be held, to be kissed. He allowed his fingers to weave into his jet black hair, to travel down his nape, to dig his nails into his smooth skin. He let Harry grip his waist tight enough to bruise, he let his lips, tongue and teeth crash aggressively against his own. In his head, he allowed himself to be saved.

"I'll protect you," Harry spoke against his skin.

"You always have," he whispered back. "Even when I didn't want it."

Harry kissed him frantically, hands trembling at the front of his shirt as if losing confidence. Draco encouraged him by snaking a hand between his legs and gripping his hardening shaft. A gasp escaped Harry's parted lips. He grabbed at Draco's clothes, unbuttoning furiously, sliding his palm down his exposed chest. He traced the old, faded scars with his fingers, then with his lips, pressing on the harsh, jagged lines as if in apology. Draco shuddered at the hot breath against his chest. Surprising himself with his own audacity, he hastily shed his own clothes, then Harry's. The skin-to-skin contact almost felt white-hot, electric, a surge of energy rushing down his every nerve.

"Are you sure?" he implored, searching the bright, bold green eyes for any hesitation. Harry cupped his face with one hand and confidently stroked him with the other. Draco couldn't hold back the moan rising from his throat, his hand reaching out to mimic the other's ministrations.

"I've never been more sure."

When their passions were finally spent, they lay there in the dark hallway, nestled against each other, relishing each other's warmth.

"Do you hear that?" Harry murmured sleepily against the pale skin of the other's back.

"Hear what?"

"My name. Someone's calling my name."