Warning! For those of you who have grown to love adorable, confused Draco LOOK AWAY NOW! THIS CHAPTER IS NOT FOR YOU!
Chapter involves violence and Harry beating, please do not hurt me!
Hold on tight!
Chapter one - the angel that walked without wings
It was now the eighth day of Draco's disappearance, and even though the headmaster had assured him countless times that he was still in the castle- and more importantly still safe, it didn't ease the longing in his hollow chest cavity. For days he'd barely eaten- very rarely slept, his attention had wandered in class, and he'd had more fan mail than ever. Although the smell, the image of him was still deeply imbedded in his mind, he couldn't help but yearn to see him again to refresh his tiring memory- the thought of losing the image of the angel was too much to think about.
The corridors he walked were dark- the pale light of the moon the only light he could go by as he passed the locked doors and empty suits of armour. But he did not see the darkened, shadowed blues as others did. His vision basked the surroundings in green, a pale glow that seemed to bounce off everything and light them up as plain as day, to the extent of the moon being too bright to look at. Everything was as emerald as his eyes, in so many different tones it was like looking out of green glasses. Of course, the discovery had shocked him three nights ago as his eyes had strained in the dark corridors he had walked, but now it seemed natural to him.
Another talent to add to the list, he thought dryly, it was the last talent that had driven Draco to disappear. He frowned into the green emptiness, he loved Draco more than life itself and without him he felt dead- more dead than he had ever felt before.
He could have been walking in the darkness for hours, or mere minutes, he didn't know. His legs carried him night after night when he couldn't sleep, as those stormy eyes haunted him beneath closed lids, and tonight was no exception. He was oblivious to everything around him, lost in his own thoughts as his legs carried on without demand, the night ignoring his presence yet keeping him shrouded the entire time.
It was this ignorance to his surroundings that caused his acute hearing to miss the hissed whispers and shuffling of feet from others who weren't made for the darkness as he was. They had been following him for a while now, waiting for the right moment.
He sighed again and let the night swallow it hungrily as the vibrations echoed in the armour he passed. Draco- the angel that walked without wings, the angelic face that he'd been unable to rid from his thoughts, not as though he wanted to. His entire being cried to be with him a little longer- just a moment to sustain him, make him forget about that little piece of him that seemed to be missing. He longed to touch that hair again, run his hand along his soft skin- look into those stormy eyes, and try to unravel the secrets they held. He wanted to place kisses on his pink lips, hell he wanted to place his lips everywhere- who didn't?
He turned down another corridor- now deep in the part of the school that no one ever walked any longer. The halls seemed even darker than the rest- cobwebs filled the corners, and they were much longer- windier than the rest of the school. They held the sinister air of being watched, that something was lurking in the darkness that you had yet to see. Things moved around and yet never moved at all, and the darkness outside of the one lone window was deeper than the others. The pursuers felt a waft of unease, but Harry didn't notice the change at all as he stared straight ahead into the green haze surrounding him.
Draco must have felt something though; he'd seen the change, he'd silently screamed with joy as he submitted his leg to him, wound his own around that powerful shin. He'd seen the lusty look on his eyes when he finally pulled away- he knew that Draco had tried not to look at him for the whole time beforehand. But why weren't those thoughts enough to ease his troubled mind? Why was he still haunted with 'what ifs' and 'buts' that he couldn't deny? Harry dropped his eyes and felt his stomach twist painfully, this was just too much- he needed Draco; he needed him so much it wasn't healthy to be apart. He longed to have any sort of contact at all- just hear his voice, just a sign that he was still alive!
His pace was slow, he didn't have anywhere to go anymore, no one he wanted to see, and he simply drifted at a pace that felt comfortable. In the winding corridors there were many doorframes to hide inside, many dark shadows to swallow you up if you didn't want to be seen, and those following were given many advantages to catch up with him. Two crept along one side of the corridor- three on the other, and slowly they began to encircle their victim who still had no idea of their presence.
Of course, they all thought themselves stealthy- cunning even. The simple truth was that they were hopeless, they were clumsy and their feet echoed in the darkness. Had Harry not been thinking he would have noticed them all the moment that they had the bright idea of stalking him, where he glided and made no sound they stepped on their toes and hissed to each other.
It was a further few minutes, only when they had wandered down a strangely familiar corridor, until they had they gotten into alignment. One was beside him in the shadows of the large snake like hall, two were in front and two behind. And the leader didn't need to give a signal for them to spring into action.
The one beside Harry veered into him, crushing his shoulder with his own and sending him straight into the wall with a loud crash. Had he bothered taking in his surroundings instead of trying to organise his suddenly panic-stricken mind, he would have realised it odd for a wall to crash at all. However, all he managed was a grunt of pain as his shoulder collided with the hard surface, as he was flipped onto his back to be held down from either side with two wands trained to his neck.
"Well well well, if it isn't pretty boy Potter," the one who had crashed into him sneered in the darkness, presuming Harry couldn't see his face in the shadows. He was a seventh year, a Ravenclaw to his surprise, he had a square jaw and menacing black eyes, ebony fingers twirling his wand as he taunted their captive, whose mind was rushing to find means of escape. He was shorter than Harry, but the other two holding him on either side had him at a height that bent his legs, his knees slowly shaking as he tried to keep upright, and so seemed much taller. Harry swallowed hard but didn't let the fear show, there was no way he could get out, his wand had been knocked from his hand and there were five of them.
But one of the five made sure that he wasn't going to retaliate, because the one person who seemed out of place, shifting uneasily on his feet and never meeting Harry's eyes, was Ron Weasley. The one who had been his best friend for nearly five years- the one who abandoned him because of his fame and the state he had been in. Harry's heart clenched painfully and his green eyes saddened as he looked at him, trying to catch his eye, asking him to tell him it wasn't true, but they shut tight as he received a blow to his jaw.
…
Draco's stomach gurgled pitifully as his stomach acid ate away at his insides, groaning in the darkness, loud enough to drown out the cracking of the fire. He grimaced momentarily, before pushing back the pain to stare back into the darkness he felt he'd known for far too long, the churning in his gut now a usual occurrence. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, days and nights merging into one expanse of black now, but he knew that it'd been too long. He didn't wish to leave- but the only reason he still remained was because of that rather conveniently placed glass of water that sometimes appeared out of nowhere. Strange place this, he mused again, but he wasn't complaining.
He supposed that what he was doing might be classified as self-harm in a way; he didn't want to eat- he wasn't eating, and he had yet to notice that his skin was slowly burning and his eyes drying in the warmth from the flames. It only seemed to bother him when he closed his eyes to sleep, or moved his arm to pick up the glass, and he'd grown used to the slow frying of his insides.
"Bloody Veela," he muttered for the hundredth time, his throat burning with the acid slowly sneaking up it like the fingers of fire before him. His face contorted with pain as he tried to swallow it down with little success and brought his stinging pink arm up to massage it gently. He suddenly wished greatly that there was someone else to rub it for him- someone in particular, and after what seemed like days of fighting he'd finally given up on scolding himself for all of the strange thoughts he had.
Okay- maybe there was something there, but he still had a little trouble believing those two hideous words. I mean, it was a little far fetched, wasn't it? It was like saying you adore all chocolate because you happen to like the taste of one bar, it's not something that you'd really do. But then again, he wasn't Harry – yes, he had finally stopped scolding himself for calling him that too – and he had no hope in hell of figuring out how his mind worked.
Once more Draco's mind cleared as he pushed away the thoughts of those eyes that seemed to hover everywhere he looked, and again his eyes unfocused as he merged into the small piece of mind he savoured for the hardest of times. He had been told before that it was rare to be able to clear one's mind naturally, to be able to shut off completely and think nothing of anything without years of practice, but he'd always put it down to his bloodlines. And with this piece of mind, the darkness and silence swallowed him up to leave only the dull crackle of spitting logs on the fire.
But only moments later Draco's head snapped around painfully as he heard a sudden crash on the door that loomed in the darkness as his only lifeline left. His throat seared and he hissed in pain as his stomach made another gurgle, but it wasn't just the gurgling that had snapped him out of his trance. No- that sound, that banging on the door- although he couldn't describe it, he knew that it wasn't good, and he felt compelled to help, to win. He glared at the door again, stood up onto shaky legs, and stumbled through the shadow.
He gasped and let out a small choking noise as his throat seared again and he tasted the tang of his stomach juices invade his mouth, and he threw himself against the door as silently as he could. His legs were screaming protest to the little movement- but he ignored them just as he had ignored pain his whole life. He coughed and tried to spit the acid out onto the floor, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and pressing his ear up against the wood to hear what was going on. His heart was picking up a pace the rest of his body was having trouble coping with, and his palms were growing clammy as he pressed against the wood. Something was wrong- something was terribly wrong, and he felt more than compelled to jump into whatever scenario it was.
"I don't know what sort of Dark Magic you've used to get like this-" he heard through the door. The voice was raspy- probably one of the smokers that seemed to be growing amongst the other oblivious, picture perfect students of the school, influenced by mere muggles. Draco scoffed- whoever this was needed a beating no matter who was on the receiving end. "- But I want to make this clear, scum, that you're not going to get away with it!" there was a burst, more like a cackle Draco thought, of laughter that followed from three or so others. His deductive skills told him that whoever it was had to be a pretty worthy opponent if those arseholes needed to gang up against them. Either that or they were lower than he thought…
Draco felt the vibrations through the wood of the door, as the victim was either kicked or punched, another lower muggle influenced show of mindless violence. He scowled against the wood; the adrenalin suddenly pumping through his veins as the pain subsided and he listened intently to every movement. Something was happening to him- something strange that he didn't know he possessed was suddenly building up against that voice, that nasty, dirty voice he wanted nothing better than to end for good. He didn't even know who the person being beaten was! He'd never helped another person in his life if there hadn't been something in it for him, and now suddenly he wanted nothing better than to tear their attackers limb from limb.
"Wonder boy doesn't seem to high and mighty now, does he lads?" the voice cried mercilessly, the low tone rumbling through the wood, but Draco barely even noticed. His stormy eyes had sharpened but they stared wide at nothing in particular. His nostrils flared as pure anger like he never thought he would have possessed coursed through his veins and he clenched his fist into a ball so tight that his fingernails cut into layers of skin. Wonder boy- that was the name only he was permitted to use, only he was allowed to use for one person only. Harry Potter was against that door, Harry Potter was being beaten and more to the point, Harry Potter was taking it.
He let a low growl rumble deep in his throat as his muscles clenched angrily and he stood up straighter and turned to face the wood, no longer needing to listen. He needed to do something! He needed to get him out- get him safe. He needed to tend to the wounds he so stupidly listened to, completely oblivious of who it was. Another thump against the door made his eyes light with a fire they had never before possessed, with their icy exterior and another jolt of energy ran through him. He heard sliding and knew that Harry was sinking to the floor, and the growling in his throat only grew.
Angrily he pounded his fist against the wood- he needed to get Harry out before he tore those bastards apart- he needed to be safe. Another thump echoed through the darkness followed by a dull groan of pain and his insides twisted into a knot- his eyes fiery and wild- his knuckles white as blood began to pool between his fingers. He stared at the wood so hard they ached- he wanted that door to disappear; he needed it to be safe here while unsafe for the idiots on the other side of the wood.
He crushed his fist against the wood again, and from his palm slowly the grain disappeared to be replaced with a shimmering outline of what had once been there. But Draco had no time to be shocked with the door- because as he looked down to see Harry curled up defensively as the others sneered into his ear and kicked at his sides, he felt his heart stop. Those fucking shits were going to have a beating like they'd never imagined.
Draco's muscles never even ached as he bent down and plunged his hand through the translucent door before him and did something he hadn't even contemplated- an action completely spur of the moment. There had been no indication that the door was penetrable- it could have easily been as solid as before, yet he had ignored all logic as his mind screamed for the one thing he needed. He needed Harry- and he needed him on this side of the damned door. His bloody hands plunged into the boy's robes, taking great handfuls of the black material that stung the cuts in his palms, but he didn't care. He didn't even notice the gasps or yelps of surprise form the other people upon seeing his disembodied hands, and ripped the body back.
Harry's face- though still beautiful was in a state. His jaw looked broken and there was a thin line of blood trailing from his lip. His startling eyes were clouded with pain and one stood out against the dark bruising forming around it. He was conscious, his eyes screwed up in pain that he wouldn't bring himself to cry because of, and Draco felt a well of pride as he looked upon him.
A single shout of surprise and anger from the other side of the door, a single muggle curse word toward the boy they had beaten- was enough.
Draco ripped his eyes away from Harry as he stood up, his whole body burning with rage and his eyes so frightening- so startling as they sunk into his now gaunt and malnourished face that he could have even scared his father.
"No!" he heard from the floor, before the speaker moaned from the pain of talking. Draco turned to looked over his shoulder and his rage only burned brighter as he saw those emerald eyes wild and fearful, for him or for himself he no longer cared. He gave him the softest look he could muster and shook his head, dirty blonde hair falling over his eye as he did, before turning back around.
5- there were five of them- now crowding around the wall and pounding, screaming like banshees in rage that they had lost their prey. But one stood a little further back, staring at the door so intently that Draco could almost swear he could see them, and Draco growled. "Weasel!" he hissed low in his throat. Harry let out another moan, holding out his arm painfully as though to stop him, but Draco ignored it with the simple wave of his hand as he gripped his wand tighter. His stomach had shut up- his throat was giving it a rest- his muscles weren't burning and there was no longer a limp on his left leg. Had you seen him you could have sworn he was in perfect health had it not been for the haunting look on his pain face, chapped lips, and that face alone that would have followed you for the rest of your days.
His eyes darted quickly over the five, before they rested on a dark skinned seventh year with that voice- that very voice that had been taunting his Harry moments before. He didn't notice, that he had called the Veela he'd starved himself because of, his own. In that moment there was one thing on his mind- he was going to make that bastard wet himself before the night was through.
Levelling his wand perfectly, he shot three wordless stunners that hit all but the leader and Weasel- he had something special for him. The only reason he could even do those simple spells without the words, being that wordless magic is fuelled by emotions- his bloodlines letting him concentrate them to an extent. In that moment though- it wouldn't have mattered if he were Veela or not.
Harry watched through those pain clouded, panic stricken eyes, as his love, his everything, stepped through the translucent wall and into the fight. He looked like the walking death- but he knew that Draco would only use it to his advantage. He wanted Draco to come back! He didn't want him to endanger himself for him! He wasn't worth it; nothing was worth Draco's life. But before he could crawl his way to drag him back, the blonde had sprung into action- and the door turned to wood once more.
"No!" Harry choked as an angry, hopeless tear ran down his cheek before he rolled onto his back and cried out in pain.
Draco stepped out of the wood and didn't slow for the look of panic that crossed the seventh year's eyes. His heart was ablaze- he felt more alive, yet in the least control he had ever felt before, but he was certain that this was going to end with him as the victor- he was going to regain Harry's honour- he was going to beat them to a pulp.
Swiftly he brought his gaunt hand from the darkness of his robes and before the other boy could raise his wand or shout a spell through his shocked, open mouth, he had wrapped it around his neck. With all of his might, which was a lot seeing as how he hadn't eaten in over a week, he slammed the other against the wall, and dug the end of his wand painfully into his stomach as his victim spluttered and looked around wide eyed. But Draco's grip wasn't very hard- only firm enough to keep him in place for what he had to say. This was a contest of humiliation, and he knew just the way.
"Dark magic?" he sneered, their faces inches apart as he bore his frightening eyes into the scared almost black eyes of the other. "You really want to see some dark magic?" he asked again, and the boy spluttered as he jabbed his wand beneath his ribs threateningly. Although he was a few cm shorter- Draco once more seemed like a giant in comparison to the one in his grasp, and his sunken eyes never wavered.
"My father has killed more innocent people than you can ever imagine," he hissed, his voice deadly and venomous as he spat the acid in his mouth onto the others face with every word. "I've seen a man kept alive for three days with mortal injuries- unable to scream in pain," his voice alone sent shivers down the older ones spine, but his words were truly frightening. Draco didn't even notice his arm weakening as the muscles protested, and another wave of hate went through his entire being and his eyes sharpened. Ron took a step back and found his back against the wall- too frightened to run.
"I know over 26 ways to kill you, right now," he growled, and his eyes skirted up and down the other who let out a whimper of fright. Slowly, as he brought his eyes back up and his lips curled menacingly, eyes hard and unwavering, he moved his wand down. He kept the pressure great as he moved the wood slowly past the boy's stomach, letting the smile grow as he whimpered again, and eventually his wand came pressed, right between his legs.
It was known fact that if you hold a wand to a guys 'nether regions', he is twice as likely to do anything you ask than if you held it to his head. It was times like these that he was thankful of his knowledge for these strange things.
"I can keep you very much alive without this," he whispered into the other's ear.
"No- please!" the boy cried as his hands shook and he sent fleeting glances downward as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to fall. Draco's lip curled again and he jabbed the wand a little harder, and the boy in his grip let the first tear roll down his cheek and he incoherently muttered. Draco felt the heat of power course through his mind. The image of Harry curled up as he was rained with mere muggle kicks- refusing to fight back against his old best friend- it was sickening. His lip straightened out again and he stared daggers at the offender, remembering his harsh words, his mocking voice, his physical violence against his Harry!
"Just a simple cutting curse- mixed with a little of my own dark magic, and you'll be lying in your own blood, the one thing that makes you even human removed-" he muttered loud enough for him to hear as he jabbed again and more tears rolled down his cheeks.
"No, p-please!" he sobbed, too scared to bring his hands up from their position hanging limply by his side. Draco growled low in his throat- so now he had the nerve to ask for forgiveness after he'd beaten not just anyone- but someone who had asked for none of this? The nerve!
"Let me make myself clear," he sneered, forcing the boys head to face his own and look into his haunting eyes. "If you so much as look the wrong way at Harry again, if I so much as hear a whisper on the wind that you've said anything against him- you won't know your left from your right. My father's in Azkaban prison, my family have hideouts all over the world. Simply killing you will be no problem- no problem at all." Each word was empty but his voice- his eyes made them so real. Anger coursed through his veins at the wreck before him, the curses he would use lined up on his tongue ready to use but he held himself back. He didn't really plan on doing anything- staying away- staying in Azkaban was the least appealing thing he could imagine. Yet that fierce burning of his eyes made everything he said reality.
"Do I make myself clear?" he hissed, and he felt the boy swallow beneath his grip, his own blood now smeared over his neck. He painfully nodded his head from beneath the threatening- vice like grip on his throat, and the blonde's lip curled again as he leant into his ear.
"Believe me- I'm the least of your troubles." He muttered, before slamming the boy once more into the wall to put the message through and he watched as he sunk to the floor, racked in sobs. "And if you breathe a word of this to the teachers-" he began, but he didn't need to finish as his point had been made. Now- he spun sharply on his heel- the weasel!
Ron's eyes were firmly glued to the boy immersed in sobs that echoed into the darkness, his wand hung limply from his hand and he wore a haunted look in his blue eyes. Draco didn't have any physical punishment for him- it wasn't worth it. But the guilt of what he had now done would definitely be enough; it would cut deeper than any spell. Once more Harry's battered form flashed across his eyes, and once more they burned.
"You-" he hissed, bringing Ron's eyes to rise up to meet his own on the other side of the stretch of corridor. "You just being a whole new meaning to the word low," he sneered, and watched with satisfaction as the red head bowed his head in shame. He should be shameful! Everything he'd done- the betrayal! And all over something that Harry had no choice over- that Harry didn't even want.
"After all he's ever done for you!" he spat, and took another step closer, suddenly aware that the adrenalin running around his blood was slowly depleting as his limbs began to grow weak. "His parents died saving his life and ever since he's been hunted like a dog! He gets dragged into fights to 'save the world' when he's still only a child- and you have the right to feel jealous?" he roared, his words bouncing off the walls and rippling beneath their feet. Ron blinked in vein as he tried to hold back the wall of guilt that was suddenly coursing through him, what had be done?
"You make me sick!" Draco hissed, and knew that it had to end as his knees weakened and he fought to keep himself standing. "Take a good look at yourself- I hope you wish you'd never been born!" and his haunting eyes dimmed with the other's suffering- the one who was curled up in pain that moment- and his suffering reflect in himself, flicked across his eyes. Ron felt the first tear roll down his cheek and Draco sneered in return.
"Get this mess cleaned up- and don't ever go near him again!" he sneered, before he slowly turned his head toward the place on the wall where he knew the door would be. He let all of the strength he had left focus on that door- the room he loved. He was still unsure as to how he knew it worked, how he knew it appeared to those who needed it, and the moment his thoughts flickered to Harry the door seemed to read his pain. With speed as fast as you could blink it re-appeared, and Draco forced himself into a walk and bit on his tongue as the acid crept up his throat again. He gave one last glare at the Weasley now walking guiltily toward the other boy as though to comfort him, before he turned the handle, grimaced in the pain, and stepped through.
It only took him two steps before his knees buckled beneath him and he landed with a soft crack in the darkened room before falling painfully onto his side.
Somehow Harry had managed to push himself into a sitting position during the time that Draco had left. The entire time his heart had ached and his mind had been plagued with images of what could happen without him. But the moment he had seen the door appear his heart had leapt and his soul exploded, but that had been replaced by shock and hurt as he saw Draco properly for the first time.
He was pale and gaunt- his eyes seemed sunken and were surrounded by dull shadows that made his stormy eyes stand out even more. His lips were dry and cracked, and he watched as though in slow motion that man he loved fall with a sickening crack to his knees, before dropping limply to his side he felt his entire being scream. He had forced himself through the pain as he'd dragged himself to Draco's side, as he'd turned him onto his back. He watched with heartache as those stormy eyes flickered a few times- just as they had that night- before closing again, unconscious. He let his cry echo in the darkness, and lay down by his side.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Lordy that took me a while! I know- it's violence and poor ikkle Harry got all beaten up, and yes I hate myself too. But I hope the writing was all right, even if the plot is like NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Reviews!
Kt- AWW! Thanks, I'm glad it keeps getting better, I hope this doesn't ruin that comment. Sorry I didn't thank you for the review for chapter 6, it arrived just after I'd posted the chapter! Keep reading!
Shakespeares Whore – I'm surprised that this story is up to the standards of keeping you entertained, at work none the less! Hope this one makes your time a little better- sorry about the violence, cringe
firefairy42 – wow! Dancing! Woo! Your welcome, but I really don't see what help I was. Yeh, I'm English, and proud! Woot!
WhiteDragonPriestezz – 8 days! Wooo, beats three huh, but he got out- or rather back in in the end!
retarted monkey – point made, and it's a very good point too :P
Kilikapele – ah yes, this chapters a little opposite to the last, isn't It though. I'm glad I finally got Ron in there too!
CrAzYLoOn – ooh, that could be interesting… ooh, sorry, zoned off there- another speedy update! Glad you liked Hermionie!
stargirl2004 – awwwwwwww! Did I really? I love when I'm in an 'awww' kinda mood! Hope this was alright too.
CompleteGeek – YEH, I KNOW! THANK YOU! My humour is a little… unique, but it's not really got a place in this story. Maybe some day I'll write a v humorous one just for you!
Caelistes – uh hum… I'm glad you made good use of the fluff! And I'm glad you liked the golden star, I may hand out more in later chapters! Woot!
triola – ah, yes, the stars are my speciality, but they're only for good little reviewers –hint hint- wow! Weekly shots of the story! And here I am giving you an overdose! Bad me slaps hand keep reading though, don't get too high.
Makalani Astral – hoped you like the length of this one!
And thanks to HecateDeMort (OMG 3 words!), bunk64, sanzo and Alea, I lurve you all!