Title: Confection.

Author: Abyss.

Email: IndelibleChild@yahoo.com.

Rating: R.

Genre: Drama.

Warnings: Slash, angst, implied rape, drug abuse, self-mutilation.

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and all characters contained within this story are all property of J.K. Rowling, with the exception of Chester Devroy, he's owned by me. Bum, bum, bum, and all that other disclaimer stuff.

Summary: Draco's life begins to crumble when he accidentally plunges himself deep into his father's schemes to over throw Voldemort. Can a new friend, found in the most unlikely place, save him from his own self-destruction? Takes place 6th year at Hogwarts. H/D Slash.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I heart you all. Thanks to my beta, Carrie, she's the greatest. If anyone has any questions, I'm more than happy to answer them, you can either e-mail me, IM me, or just leave a review and I'll get back to you on them as soon as I can. Also, to save my own ass at the moment, because I've noticed that multiple "R" rated HP fictions have been removed for being "inappropriate"…

'Confection' stays within the boundaries of an appropriate "R" rating, if m/m relationships, or the glories of boy-fondling bothers you, then I suggest you briefly skim over the end to this chapter, it's important you know what happens though, this chapter is rather important.

Ratings:

G - no swear words, minimal violence, no sexual situations, no slash. Basically, nothing a Disney cartoon wouldn't have.
PG - modified swear words (darn, shoot, dang), low violence, no nudity, no sexual kissing.
PG13 - modified or mild swear words (darn, shoot, damn), moderate violence, no or partial above-the-waist nudity.
R - swear words, violence, nudity, mild sexual situations.
NC17 - swear words, extreme violence, nudity, fully described sexual situations.

(Rating system borrowed from foreverfandom)

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Chapter Eight: From the Inside.

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Draco opened up the brightly coloured box and stared down and at three different rolls parchment. Confused, he picked up the heaviest roll of paper and looked at it more closely. When he unrolled it, the first thing he saw was 'This History of Glamour Magic' written on it, in Harry's messy handwriting. Holding in an amused smile, the blonde looked at the other two that he found were labeled 'Glamour Objects and Their Uses' and 'Dangers of Dream Change'. Amused and surprisingly happy, Draco laughed and shook his head slightly. "Harry, you stupid bastard, I...," can't believe I said that. The young wizard's mouth still open, he dropped the parchment and stared, unfocused with wide-eyes at a blank spot in front of him. Did he really just say that aloud?

No, he thought. No, I did not... I am going to pretend I didn't, anyway.

"Just keep packing, Draco. Just keep packing…" he muttered to himself. The blonde was glad to be going back to school; he had spent way too much time purposely staying out of his father's sight, which was actually much more difficult than one would presume. Continuing to mutter unintelligible things to himself, the young wizard continued to place his belongings into the trunk.

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Draco growled to himself when he stepped outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room; of course Potter wouldn't be there; he still didn't comprehend the meaning of punctuality. Sighing dramatically, the blonde leaned up against the stone wall. He'd wait for five minutes, and that was it. Leave it to Potter to be late, especially when he had to apologize to certain blonde Slytherins. Stupid Gryffindor.

After about thirty seconds had passed by, he sighed again; he was already bored, and his back was getting cold from the stone. While contemplating whether or not he should continue to wait, he felt something soft brush up against his arm. "Potter?" he whispered, backing away from the wall towards the entrance, wary.

A moment of silence passed before Draco heard some rustling, then a floating head appeared. The Slytherin cocked an eyebrow. "May I inquire as to where the rest of your body is?" he asked, eyebrow still raised.

"I'm wearing an invisibility cloak," the dark haired wizard looked behind him quickly, then pushed the cloak back over his head. Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to the entrance, saying the password, but waiting until he felt a light brush go by him until he walked through the portal himself.

"Where did that come from?" Draco asked once the door was shut to his room. He watched Harry pull the cloak off and lay it on over a large, dark green armchair. The young wizard looked rather twitchy about that particular subject to Draco.

"Uhmm… It was my dad's," he said. Harry started to play with the barbell in his mouth when the Slytherin raised his eyebrow at him for the second time in the past few minutes, looking for an explanation. "I don't feel like talking about it."

Making a small, "hmm," as Potter lay down on his bed; he studied the Gryffindor. His hair had grown, whether from purposely growing it out, or just sheer laziness (Draco suspected the latter), making the Slytherin notice that his hair was wavier than he had originally presumed. (Not that he had spent much time pondering Potter's grooming habits.) His face looked older without his glasses, and better, in Draco's opinion, those glasses had been hideous. Draco coughed and shifted slightly, when it finally sunk in that he had been staring at Harry.

"Don't make it a habit to lie on my bed, Potter. You might contaminate my sheets." Draco rolled his eyes when Harry giggled at him.

"But it's comfy," he whined, curling up on his side facing Draco, who was now sitting in his desk chair, leg's crossed and arms folded over his chest. They stared at each other for a moment.

"What are you doing here?"

Harry sat up, looking serious now. "I wanted to apologize," he spoke after a moment of silence, looking away from Draco. "So, I'm sorry. I'm an ass, and I don't want you to keep ignoring me, because I like being around you."

Well, Draco certainly wasn't expecting that kind of apology. Leave it to the Gryffindor, though, to say something stupid like that. Cocking his head slightly, Draco stared at Harry's disposition; he seemed a little embarrassed, and that made the Slytherin grin. "I suppose I'll let it go, only because those essays you gave me were decent enough work, for a Gryffindor." His words slightly shocked himself, since when did he start letting people off so easily? Draco blamed it on being too tired to further argue, even though a tiny voice in the back of his head whispered about green eyes and a stolen kiss… he ignored it.

"Did you actually wait to open it?" Harry asked, his face brightening up at the almost-compliment.

"What do you mean?" The blonde looked at Harry confused. "You said you had it charmed so I couldn't."

Draco frowned at the smirk he saw on Harry's face. "I lied, but..." Harry's smirk changed into a soft smile that looked much more fitting on the Gryffindor. "Thank you for trusting me."

His mouth open, ready to argue back at the statement, Draco stopped himself. He really did trust Potter, didn't he? He had trusted him enough to not lie about something as stupid as a charmed gift. Mumbling something unintelligible about the colour red and stupid bastards, the Slytherin turned around in his chair and grabbed the beginnings of their portfolio. It was time for a slight subject change, he thought.

"While you're here, we can start putting this together," he said, motioning for Harry to sit up completely, while he took his spot on the bed, grinning at the look of disappointment on the dark-haired boy's face. He found a comfortably safe distance away from the Gryffindor on the bed, but close enough so they could both work over the portfolio at the same time.

"Do you have your essays finished, then?" Harry asked, looking at the blonde beside him.

"Of course I don't," Draco waved his hand "I'm taking four more classes than you are, my work load is substantially larger than yours is."

"Three," Harry corrected.

"What?" Draco looked over at Harry.

"You're only taking three more classes than I am."

The blonde shook his head slightly. "Divination does not count as an actual class, Potter. Don't dilute yourself into thinking otherwise."

Harry rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his already mussed hair. He saw Draco staring at his movements. "Yeah," he started. "I know I need to cut it," he finished, assuming that was the reason for Draco's contemplative gaze.

Blinking a few times, unaware he was staring again, Draco laughed a little. "I rather like your hair, Potter," he said, lightly ruffling it with his left hand. "It's got that 'I've just been fucked' look. It works for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Draco questionably, an act that reminded the young Slytherin of himself; he didn't like Harry doing that, not at all. "You put that eyebrow down right now!" Draco spoke sharply, yet still in a joking manner, and lightly pushed on Harry's shoulder, jostling the other boy playfully. Thoughts in the back of his head pointed out Draco's affinity for touching the other wizard on his bed; he dismissed them.

The Gryffindor just giggled.

"You sound like a girl when you laugh." Draco twisted his back slightly, feeling and hearing a satisfying popping in his spine before he leaned back on the bed.

"I'd rather laugh like a girl, than look like one all the time. It's gotta suck being you." Laughing, Harry smiled as he watched Draco's eyes narrow.

The Slytherin growled at Harry before tackling him, rolling over top to successfully pin him to the bed, where he'd laid back himself after Draco had. "If you could remember half of the things you say to me when you're high, I doubt you'd be making such remarks about masculinity, Potter." Draco's eyes burned into Harry's, silver against green. Harry became nervous, but then again, he didn't know that Draco was lying, now did he?

"What exactly do I say?" Harry swallowed, looking up at Draco.

Draco smirked. "I'm not telling you," he said in a singsong voice.

The dark haired boy stared at Draco for a moment then looked away awkwardly. "Right, then…" he said, unsure of himself.

Harry looked back up at Draco's face. That pensive _expression was back on his face, making the Gryffindor confused. "Draco?" he asked. Not a second later, Harry's eye's widened, almost to a comical point. Draco smirked.

"Well, that's interesting," Draco said, still not moving himself from off of Harry, even after he felt the slightly smaller boy shifting, obviously uncomfortable with the situation at the moment. The smirk fell from Draco's face, and was replaced with a searching gaze, why didn't it feel so awkward to hear his name coming from Harry's mouth anymore? Why had that suddenly changed?

Without even thinking, Draco leaned down and pressed his lips against Harry's, hesitant and unsure. What was he doing? He pulled back and stared at Harry, brows furrowed. The boy under him stared back, probably wondering the same exact thing Draco. A small moment passed between the two before Harry lifted his head up and captured the blonde's lip into a slow, lazy kiss. Draco shuddered, feeling the tip of Harry's tongue brush over his bottom lip; this feeling was all so… new.

The taller boy rested on his forearms as he tangled his fingers into the long tresses atop Harry's head, gasping when he felt cold hands on his sides, how had Harry's hands ended up under his shirt? Harry's tongue gently pushed into Draco's mouth, causing Draco to shiver again. The hands on his sides slid up and moved slowly against his chest, the sensation made his stomach muscles jump, so very new…

Placing another short kiss on Harry's mouth, Draco pulled away and stared at the wizard under him again. Why did it feel okay to do this with him? Bright green eye's softened "You alright?" Harry asked, his voice deeper than Draco was used to hearing.

"Yes," Draco pulled himself off of Harry. "I'm just…" he trailed off, sitting down next to the smaller boy. After a few moments of silence, Harry leaned up, his elbows propped behind himself, waiting for a complete reply. "I've never done… anything…"

"Ever?"

Draco shook his head, looking into his lap where his hands rest. Not like this. The blonde missed the smile on Harry's face, but he did notice the smaller wizard moving in front on him, on his knees. "I think we should get you all caught up then."

Not giving the blonde a chance to reply, Harry lifted Draco's bowed head, and began kissing him again. Without hesitation, Draco allowed himself to be pushed back onto the bed. It felt awkward when Harry covered Draco's body with his own; awkward, but not unwelcome. He shivered when cold fingers met his chest again, and moaned when Harry's tongue was back in his mouth. The two boys both froze on the bed, however, when Harry's fingers brushed over a few bumps on Draco's stomach. The dark-haired boy leaned back, and moved his left hand across the front of Draco's still-covered torso. Probably wondering why he didn't notice them before.

Still too shocked to do anything, Draco watched the wizard atop him slowly drag up his shirt to reveal dozens of scars. Harry's head tilted, and with blank eyes, he seemed to study the marks. Draco's stomach twitched self-consciously at the attention. The blonde failed to hold in a shiver when fingers began to trace the chaotic designs. Fingers trailed over a long, seeming vertical scar on the left side of pale wizard's abdomen, and Draco took in a shaky breath. His first hidden cut… the blonde pressed his eyes shut, and bit the inside of his lip, what was he supposed to do now?

Things were silent for a moment, and Draco kept his eyes closed, not knowing if he could stand to see Harry's curious eyes stare at something that was so personal to him. Movement, rustling, more movement; Draco frowned, Harry was going to leave. The Slytherin's eyes opened when he felt lips press against his skin, what was Harry doing? He lifted his head up as far as his neck would allow, looking down at the boy who was placing soft kisses on each scar that adorned the pale torso. Harry chose that time to look up at Draco; a few tresses of hair falling in front of his face, he smiled up at Draco. The blonde let out a deep breath he hadn't known he had been holding in. Harry's head rested against Draco's stomach for a moment, and lips mumbled something against the pale skin, making Draco squirm a little from the ticklish sensation.

Harry crawled up the Slytherin's body until his head was right next to Draco's ear. "I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore," he whispered, his breath sweeping across Draco's ear. Not giving the blonde a chance to reply, Harry kissed him again. It was different, though, more urgent, determined almost… like he was trying to prove something to Draco; prove to him that it didn't matter what the other wizard had done. Draco could have slapped himself for that thought, but became more occupied when Harry's hands were on his skin again.

The blonde could feel Harry smile through the kiss, when his own tentative hands reached up and played with the hair at the nape of Harry's neck. Harry's mouth soon left Draco's, trailing kissing down to his neck. With his mouth still open, Draco attempted to calm down his breathing, gasping slightly when Harry's tongue trailed over his prominent collarbone.

Draco cried out softly, tossing his head to the side, when Harry began to grind his hips into Draco's. Almost embarrassed for enjoying what he was feeling; it was all so different… so very different than what he was used to…

He could hear Harry moaning into his neck, while he continued to grind his hips into the wizard below him. Harry's tongue traced the coils of Draco's ear, taking the lobe into his mouth, gently sucking on it. "Mmm… Draco…"

Draco froze. So very different from whom he was used to calling his name.

Pressure. "Draco…" Tears. "Such a good boy." Pain, pain, pain.

In a panic, Draco started mumbling incoherent things, and pushed at the dark-haired boy's chest, until he succeeded in shoving him off. "Don't touch me," Draco whispered, curling onto his side, and wrapping his arms around his knees. "Not again, no, no, you stopped. You stopped… you said you stopped…" Draco began to shake, this wasn't supposed to happen, it was all wrong… so very wrong.

"Draco?"

"No," Draco tucked his head into his chest, trying to hide from the pain.

A hand touched his shoulder, and Draco visibly flinched. "Draco?"

"I think you should leave now, Potter." Draco didn't move.

"Look, I'm-"

"Bye," he said firmly, belying his current state with that harsh, final word. If nothing else, the cold tone in the blonde's voice was what eventually made Harry gather up his cloak, and walk out of the room, a soft click of the door closing was the last noise before the unsettling silence took over.

"I hate you," he muttered into his chest, who it was directed towards, though, Draco wasn't quite sure.

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End: Chapter Eight.

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