Title: Always

Chapter: #7 – Doesn't that make you feel better…

Author: Nevoreiel (lamort_noir@hotmail.com)

Pairing: Draco/Harry

Rating: R just to be safe, dark content, rape, non-concentual sex, coerced sex, suicidal thoughts, violence, some language, and questionable behavior, but I like it that way. :)

Summary: Draco can't sleep so he decides to wander. To his surprise he finds Harry at the Astronomy Tower. A fight ensues and the consequences bring out strange emotions.

Disclaimer: The characters in no way, shape, or form ever did, are, or will belong to me. The twisted storyline belongs to me though. J.K. Rowling would not be caught dead writing such things. No money is made of this and who would want to pay for something like this?

Warning: The only warning would be that if RAPE and NON-CONCENTUAL SEX between the same genders make you faint, then DO NOT READ. This story is SLASH (male/male relationship); the R rating is for a reason. Not as much for this chapter either.

Notes: This chapter title also comes from NIN's "The Downward Spiral" CD, the song's called "March of the Pigs". (Am I overusing the poor CD for chapter titles? Do I want the answer? haha) This is Harry's point of view taking place in the Great Hall at breakfast, the next day. The poem used is the work of Tristan Corbiere and the translation is not mine, though the French that I do know tells me that the translation isn't word for word. It is entitle Sonnet de Nuit or as translated to English Night Sonnet.

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Oh, Hell, I really need at least a few hours of good sleep. And yesterday's "chat" with Malfoy did nothing for that. How can he manage to look downright lost one minute and then start leering like the bastard that he is. Very attractive leering but all the same. Did I just think that? Apparently.

I could kick myself, I can't have Ron and Hermione getting suspicious, whatever shall I say to them when they do get suspicious? That I'll have to think about later for now it's enough trying to avoid that git.

Hmm, he's just sitting there self-satisfied. I sit down between Hermione and Ron and automatically start eating, my eyes never leave Malfoy. He just sits there with a smirk on his face as if sensing my intrusive gaze or just of his own will he looks right at me and his smirk widens. If I could chance it I would walk over there and put his face to rights. Punch some sense into him, not that it worked the last time I tried it.

I look away and find Ron staring strangely at me; I smile thinly at him and keep on eating. Oh, things aren't going well at all. Maybe now's a good time to think of an excuse.

Let's see, the truth will never see the daylight, nightmares won't explain why I was staring at Malfoy… that's it! I was staring at Malfoy because I'm planning something devious against him. The only plausible explanation, nothing wrong with it and it leads everyone away from the very unlikely and completely opposite situation, sort of. I am supposed to be plotting something devious but my heart's not in it, where is my heart? Surely not with Malfoy.

A hoot interrupts my musings and startled I find one of the school owls hovering over my plate. I stick out my hand and the parchment drops into it. Curiously I unroll it, no seal, who would send me a letter? A little early for mail as well. The script is cursive but easily read…

O croisée ensommeillée,

Dure à mes trente-six morts!

Vitre en diamant, éraillée

Par mes atroces accords!

Herse hérissant rouillée

Tes crocs où je prends et mords!

Oubliette verrouillée

Qui me renferme… dehors!

Pour Toi, Bourreau que j'encense,

L'amour n'est donc que vengeance?…

Ton balcon: gril à braiser?…

Ton col: collier de garrotte?…

Eh bien! Ouvre, Iscariote,

Ton Judas pour un baiser!

There is no signature. The letter's not addressed but the owl couldn't have been mistaken. I stare at the parchment some more but the words make no more sense then when I first scanned through them. I glance at Malfoy and see that he's still smirking widely. I see him wink and startled I drop the parchment.

This earns me Ron's curiosity, "What have you got there?" he picks up the strange letter and scans it. "What language is this? And who'd send something like it to you?" this of course brings around Hermione.

"Let me see, Ron, I might be able to tell you," she plucks the piece of paper out of Ron's hands much to his protesting. The is a moment of silence as she looks over the writing, then her face lights up, "Why, it's in French! Who'd send you something in French?"

Ron nods enthusiastically, "Exactly what I said, well, Harry?"

I shrug nonchalantly, "I don't know. Anyway it might've been a mistake, I can't read French. How'd you know it was in French in the first place?"

Hermione rolls her eyes dramatically at this, "Oh, Harry, tsk, it's common sense. Plus, it's not like I don't know a few words. There was something about love and Judas. What a strange combination… are you sure you don't know who sent it to you?"

"No, I really don't," I take the letter, from Hermione's hand. This little thing causes way too much trouble. I fold it up and put it into my pocket. Love… Judas…?

"Well, all right," she shrugs and goes back to eating and flipping through another one of those big and dusty books that no one ever bothers to read. Why, otherwise they wouldn't be so dusty.

Ron looks confused and I really can't blame him, "And what exactly is Judas?"

"It's not a what, Ron, it's a who," Hermione never misses a chance to lecture.

"All right, who then?" by the tone of voice, I think Ron's getting angry.

"It's Muggle person. All in all he betrayed his best friend. It's practical Muggle religion. Really, Ron you should think about taking Muggle Studies," her tone of voice suggested that this was common knowledge, but even I didn't know this.

Ron screwed up his face at that prospect but then his eyes went wide, "Ha, I bet I know who sent it to you, Harry. It was that Malfoy, I'll wager, trying to confuse you and what not," Ron looked quite pleased with himself but Hermione chose not to comment.

"Maybe," was all I said but inside I felt slightly relieved. I think the game has started. But how does he suppose to win anything with something that doesn't even affect me. The suspense will kill me unless I know what exactly that Malfoy is up to.

As discretely as possible I take out that strange French letter and rip off a piece of parchment. Hastily I scribble a short note: Meet me in the old supply room on the 3rd floor, midnight tonight.

As I think of a good excuse to go over to the Slytherin table and harass Malfoy, his derisive voice interrupts, "So, Potter, received another letter from your numerous fans or maybe… maybe it's a love letter. Who's it from, I'm dying to know."

I don't even bother turning around, "Then go and die somewhere but leave me alone."

"Aww, poor Potter, was it from Mud-blood here," at that he contemptuously gestures at Hermione. I can see Ron's ear going pink. I put a hand on his arm to restrain him, "It's not worth it, Ron. Just let it go."

A mock gasp from Malfoy, "Or could it be… from the Weasel, my word" This earns us many snickers and catcalls. This is going too far. I slowly rise from my seat and turn to face Malfoy, the note is tightly clutched in my hand.

He's still smirking, the git, "Take that back, Malfoy."

"What if I don't? You're going to hit me because your boyfriend's too flimsy to do it himself?" Malfoy sounds downright mean and his confidence doesn't help me get my anger in check. Ron finally jumps up and starts for Malfoy.

I put out an arm to restrain him, "Ron, this is between me and Malfoy"

"But, Harry…" a murderous rage burns within me and Ron seems to have picked up on it as he says nothing further but stands back.

"Hm, ready to give up, Potter," he advances and I stand my ground. I think I like it much better when he uses my name. Glancing quickly at the teacher's table I notice Snape and Professor McGonogall looking at the gathering wearily, well Snape looks more angry than anything but that's Snape. Can't let this go too far.

Time to straighten things out, so to speak, grabbing Malfoy's robes I pull him up to my face, "No, Malfoy, I'll never give up. You on the other hand… should."

Malfoy smiles widely and leans his head even closer, his lips are right next to my ear. The moment seems stretched and unnaturally long.

"Doesn't that make you feel better?" he whispers, his warm breath ghosts over my ear and I can't suppress the shivers that run up my spine.

With that Malfoy carefully peels my hands off his robes and in the process take the note. I just stare for a moment and then coming to I step back, "Fuck off, Malfoy"

No reply, he just arches his eyebrows suggestively and when I realize what I said I turn away. Wouldn't do any good to let Malfoy see me blush. I wait for some retort but none come. Sneaking a glance back I see that Malfoy and his cohorts have left, most of them still snickering and talking amongst themselves.

I stay quiet and everyone at the table leaves me alone. Now I can't help but think of that accursed letter and what it could mean. And why exactly did Malfoy say that to me? Does what make me feel better?

***

The whole day was spent within my thoughts. Malfoy is truly driving me mad, at this rate I'll soon forget to eat. Those tantalizing glimpses of him every once in a while really don't help much. Gods, why do I keep think about Malfoy that way? He's really getting to me, I can't let that happen.

With agonizing slowness the day creeps on. Sitting in the common room doing homework isn't the best distraction but I can't have Malfoy mess everything up, my grades must not suffer from this.

Finally it's a quarter to midnight. Grabbing my Invisibility Cloak and stealing out of the dorms I make my way down to the 3rd floor. Deterred once by the moving staircases at last I reach the supply room. Taking off the cloak I fold it hazardously.

Walking in cautiously I notice that Malfoy's not there yet. I'm about to settle onto the ground to wait when I notice a hint of something white in the general darkness. At a closer look it turns out to be a piece of parchment. Whispering Lumos I look at it more closely, turns out that there's something written on it and the handwriting is the same as on the letter I received at breakfast…

O sleeping casement,

Hardened to my umpteen deaths!

Diamond pane, scratched

By my atrocious chords!

Spiky rusting portcullis

Your hooks where I hang and gnaw!

Bolted dungeon

Which shuts me… out!

For You, Torturer before I burn incense,

Is love nothing but vengeance?…

Your balcony: a braising grill?…

Your necklace: a garrote?…

Well, come on! Iscariot,

Open up your Judas spyhole for a kiss!

I can't help it, the poem flutters to the ground and I just stand there in shock. Out of the corner of my eye I see a pale boy emerge from the shadows, Malfoy.

"Well, have you nothing to say?" he moves ever closer. I have no reply; I stand stock still with my mouth hanging open like a landed fish.

He just shrugs and then he's upon me. His mouth covers my own in ravenous kisses, I'm still rooted to the spot. His tongue tries to elicit a response from me but I have nothing to respond with.

With a disgusted sigh he pulls away, "Really, Harry, can't you at least protest. I feel like I'm kissing a corpse." Hmm, there's an idea.

"Why did you do that?" it feels as if I'm in a dream and nothing matters.

"Didn't you read the poem that I wrote? It explains everything, really, I would have though that you appreciated fine art," he shakes his head and those fine hairs move about as if in a breeze, "I stated quite plainly that you should open up for a kiss, fairly elementary, and you did."

"I was in shock if you didn't notice or were you too preoccupied with coming on to me? No, don't answer that. And you call that… that thing fine art, you must be mental," I can't help but step away from the "poem" and look at it hatefully. "So, it really was you who wrote the French thing as well?

"Of course, I knew you wouldn't understand the French version so I decide to translate," he looks satisfied, the bastard.

I ignore the comment and try to sound normal, "I didn't know that you knew French."

"When you live in an upstanding family like mine, you pick up things in order to be courteous. After all, manners are everything," at this he gestures towards the fallen parchment and smiles.

I just scowl distastefully.

"You are so immature," with that he kisses me again this time I push at him. His hands tangle into my hair and he pulls on the strands, pain pulses where the hair was yanked, I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the stinging to go away. If not for the pain, I might actually think that this was nice. Agh, no, can't start thinking that.

With another tug at my hair Malfoy's hands let go and he breaks the kiss, panting.

Looking balefully at his flushed face I realized that this is having an unwanted affect on me. I can't have him catch that little detail. Glancing briefly at the Slytherin I start backing away and turning around I start running.

"Pot-Harry what the… don't do this again, don't you dare…" the rest floats away as I round the corner.

Breathing heavily from my dash I finally make it safely into the Gryffindor common room. That's the last time I meet up with him in a small dark room.

Really, what nerve. I don't think I'll be able to get that "poem" out of my head. Come to think of it neither will I be able to get rid of the feel of those lips… Gah, don't think of that, not now…

Oh, bloody Hell.

To Be Continued…

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Next Installment: What in Hell was Draco thinking? Was he even thinking? Will they ever come to an agreement? Is this it? Answered in the next chapter. Most probably to be posted on September 5th. This date could change since this is the first day of school for me, never know what might happen.

A/N: This chapter was fun to write and it came easily. I would like to thank again all the faithful reviewers. What'd I do without you? Probably wouldn't write this story anymore. But have no fear I'll finish this thing, it's nagging me incessantly.