DustFactory
They woke.
A figure leaned over them, shrouded in shadows. Nothing gave a clue as to who was under the dark robe but the tendril of misplaced hair that looped, pale and loose, from under the hood.
"Father." One word was breathed into Harry's ear, so quiet that it would be mistaken by any other for a sigh.
Malfoy Sr. glanced around, taking in all of the gore splattered about the room and streaked down the boy's skin like war paint. He quickly left after making sure that the two occupants were indeed alive. The thick wooden door closed behind him and latched with a heavy ominous click.
"M'Lord, the walls have been decorated with their blood. I thought surely the traitor would have met his well deserved end. But, they...sleep." Malfoy's voice could be heard muffled through the door.
"What? Your son is still alive and well?" A high-pitched voice was heard, heavy with skepticism.
"He is no son of mine," the elder Malfoy spat, "but, yes, m'Lord. I fear we have underestimated them. They sleep, alive, well, and…together." Harry snickered at the disgust and disbelief in the elder Malfoy's tone. Draco shifted slightly against Harry, smooth-muscled skin rippling and shifting beneath his. Thoughts were almost instantly turned inward, and attention snapped back to the closeness of their bodies. Harry's fringe brushed Draco's, blending in a striking combination of light and dark on their foreheads. Draco's eyes glowed with mischief, and he rubbed one of his thighs up against Harry's quickly growing erection. Eyes closed with pleasure, and Harry bit down on the closest thing to keep from moaning, which turned out to be Draco's bottom lip.
Draco kissed Harry lightly, with damp lips and the barest of tongue. Soft and gentle. Teeth scraped along a lip as desperation grew a few notches. Damp became slick, and warm became heated. But their small tryst was interrupted by more murmuring outside their door.
"We can't just leave them in there together—"
Voldemort cut him off with an abrupt, "Oh, but we can and we shall. Without food, the Incubus rules him. It can live without food, for it drains the sexual energy of its victim. Said victim can't live without food, and will eventually die from starvation and energy drain.
"If Draco has overcome their differences, not only is he still giving off sexual energy, now he is doing it willingly, which will drain him much faster. The longer close proximity to Potter is maintained, the weaker he will become. As his body tries to compensate for the energy drain, it will begin to dissolve his tissues, literally eating itself alive." At this point they seemed to realize they were talking outside of their prisoners' door, and began to move away.
"Draco will be dead with in a few nights, and I will have my new weapon."
"Harry? Harry, it's almost noon," Ron could be heard coming up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. "Harry! It's time to get up, we promised Hagrid we would meet him for tea—" Ron ripped the curtain aside, expecting to see Harry being a lazy sod, but instead was met with a bed that was rumpled, but without a Harry. Ron shrugged, not worried, and headed down to the common room, hoping to bump into Harry on his way from the showers or where ever he was.
When he got there he met Hermione, who was reading on an overstuffed armchair by the fire.
"Hey, 'Mione, have you seen Harry anywhere?"
"No, but we're suppose to meet Hagrid for tea in a half an hour. Go see if he's in the showers or something."
Ron nodded absently, heading towards the showers.
"Ron, have you seen my transfiguration homework?" Lavender asked, bending over to look under a couch. Ron's mouth went dry with the site of her small, toned, perfectly rounded...
"I accidentally transfigured my paper into a frog instead of the bell I was supposed to transfigure."
"I'll help you look for it Lav', it couldn't have gone far." Any thing to do with tea, Harry, or Hagrid quickly fled his mind.
Hermione was so caught up in her book, that when the clock chimed eleven, she was vaguely startled. She quickly glanced up to see that Ron had not noticed that they were going to be late, and was sitting suspiciously close to Lavender. She narrowed her eyes and shut her book, carefully, of course. Glancing around to see that there was still no Harry in site, she sighed and stood up, walking over to where the offending redhead sat.
"Ron! Where is Harry? Didn't I tell you to go find him over a half an hour ago?" Ron's eyes widened slightly, glancing at Lavender, and then back to Hermione.
"Y- You might have," Ron's ears were beginning to color.
"So where is he, Ronald? We're going to be late for Hagrid's." She tapped her foot impatiently, getting more frustrated by the moment. Ron squeaked and stumbled off the couch with an indistinct mutter, banging his toe on a table on his way out of the common room. Lavender glared at her, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"Can't get your own man Hermione? Have to go and steal other people's?"
Hermione stalked off in the opposite direction to look for Harry. That conceited bitch. I'll show her... Deep breath Granger, calm down. First, you need to find Harry.
Ron was becoming panicked, the showers had come up empty, and he couldn't find Harry anywhere else he had checked. He headed back to the common room, now at a jog, and almost bumped into a frantic Hermione.
"Did you find him?" she was tugging on her hair, eyes wild.
"No, let's go check the map. I'm sure he's around here somewhere, maybe he went down to Hagrid's early." Even as the words left his mouth, they left a bitter taste. He could feel a deep-rooted worry begin to tug at his stomach.
Hermione calmed slightly.
"Yes, yes, the map, why didn't I think of that before?" They nearly sprinted up to Harry's dorm, Ron catching his overly large feet on the last stair and sprawling on the ground.
"Are you all right?" Brown curls in disarray, the Head girl looked quite a sight.
"Yeah, I'm fine, go get his map." Ron stood, brushing off his trousers and wincing at the quickly forming bruise on his knee. Bloody feet. If only you would have stopped growing a few sizes ago.
"Ron!" Hermione's distraught voice hurried him along the rest of the way. "Ron, he's not on the map!"
"Shite." Ron tugged the map out of her grasp, eyes searching for a small dot named Harry Potter. Unfortunately, Hermione was right, as always. There was no Harry to be seen. "Bloody, fucking shite!" Hermione only spared him a glare for his language before snagging his sleeve and tugging him out of the room and back down the stairs.
"We need to find the Headmistress." By the time they had reached the portrait, they were sprinting, the brown haired witch struggling to keep up with the redhead. Eyes turned towards them, and house mates called after them, wondering what had happened; neither of them noticed.
"My body will eat itself alive!" Draco was in a panic, and was hunched into a corner, back pressed against the wall. He was whimpering and cradling his knees, and Harry didn't know what to do. He had tried to comfort his age mate, but Draco had just gotten a panicky look in his eye and pressed his back harder into the wall.
"Calm down, Malfoy, you'll be fine. We're going to get out of this. Stop being such a drama queen." Harry picked at a dried spot of blood on the blanket, flicking the flakes across the room. He got up and walked back over to the small, too high window, testing it for any weaknesses for the thousandth time.
"Calm down! You're not the one that's going to have his body slowly digested from the inside out! No, you get a free whore and a cozy position as the Dark Lord's favored! We've tried everything! There is no way out of this hell hole. I'm going to die in here!" Draco was hysterical, and it was visible in his lack of control over his newly discovered self. His face was beginning to sharpen along with his toes and fingers. His eyes began to glow, and the ground singed black around where he was sitting.
"I'm not ready to die..." It was whispered so quietly Harry barely caught it.
"Malfoy! Get yourself under control or your going to start our room on fire." Harry stared perplexed at where Draco was sitting; the wall behind him had begun to char, spreading from the corner and blossoming outward like a bad parody of a blooming flower. Draco, however, was too lost in his own panic, and looked as though he might be hyperventilating. "Malfoy!" Harry scrambled over to where Draco was literally going into a meltdown. "Malfoy!" Harry made to grasp the blond boy's shoulders only to jump back quickly with a wince of pain and burnt palms. "Snap out of it!" Draco's eyes were glazed over with a feverish sheen. "Draco!" Eyes snapped back into focus, and Harry could feel Draco's skin instantly drop in temperature. The malnourished boy dropped forward into Harry's arms, panting as though he had done five laps around Hogwarts. Though still unnaturally warm to the touch, he didn't burn the dark-haired boy now.
"Draco..." Harry ran dirty, raw hands though Draco's sweat-soaked hair. The blond boy moaned, curling into the offered embrace. Pulling the unnaturally light boy away from the wall, his eyes widened at the crackling magic that seemed to be peeled away from the wall in little places. "Draco, wake up! Look!" Draco failed to respond other than to curl farther into the embrace. "I think I've found our way out."
beta'd by the lovely Aayesha