AN: WHAT'S UP? *GRINS* I missed you guys. I have a number of things to say and get out. First out shout-outs.
1). To every single one of you awesome readers who take time out to read, review, favorite, and add to your subscription. When I read comments on how this story is your favorite of all time, that some of you including a certain someone one I greatly chat with over at tumblr say that you've read this story more than once (same person mentioned said she read it 7 times to my shock, that apparently this converted you over to team drarry...no words. None. That's how shook I am.
2). SHOUT TO the 2 awesome friends and fellow writers who helped me so much with this chapter: FanofBellaandEdward and SensiblyTainted. Check out their stuff. You won't regret it.
3). SPECIAL SPECIAL SHOUTOUT to my new friend who is a pure ball of sunshine, tired-luxis. The sweetest person and has helped me through this tough, writing break.
Thank you for your patience. I quickly learn the pros and cons of getting new job: you may earn money but your patience is always tested and energy is always drained, leaving room for nothing else. Especially writing. But in honor of the holiday and the fact it is the birthday month of one of my best friend-who is also the reason this story exists-and the birthday of my firstborn fictional son, Harry J Potter. My BABY. Hope you enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 49: Fragment of Large, Frail Scale
Harry's legs dangled over the edge of the Astronomy tower, softly swaying as he gazed out into the open view of the forest. He shivered as the strong autumn wind pierced through his thin sweater. His teeth chattered as his hands frantically ran up and down his arms, although a question sprouted in the back of his mind if the shivering was entirely caused by the cold.
He could have gone back to the Slytherin dorms and rested at the common room. Or just barricade himself in his room, until he was sure the storm had passed. But he had little doubt news of his demonstration with McLaggen already reached there. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if it reached the creatures in the Forbidden Forest at this point. Including Draco.
Oh Merlin, Draco. Harry held himself tighter, bringing his knees to his chest, curling into a ball. He didn't want to imagine how his reaction would be.
There was also the library. He could have found a quiet place, get started on the mountain of assignments or lose himself in books, but the library was practically Hermione's second bedroom and Harry wasn't ready to see her. To see her anxious or get hit with the dozens of questions she'd have for him.
In the end, the Astronomy Tower, lacking the proper warmth needed with its' wide open spaces, offered the privacy he needed.
It occurred to Harry that he could have used a warming charm or try to Transfix his sweater into one of thicker material. However, the last time he had used his magic…McLaggen's pain-stricken face burst into Harry's head, his hands clawing at the charcoal rosary, the smell of burning flesh.
Harry's stomach leapt, then crashed abruptly. Bile filled his mouth, burning at his throat.
Wandless magic. He had done wandless magic. He had done dark magic.
Shivers that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold crawled up his spine as he stared at his hands. He had done dark magic with them. He did dark magic without the use of a wand or a spell.
Horror rolled through his stomach like waves, bile filling his mouth like a balloon.
What was happening to him?
In DADA class, it took everything Harry had not to give into the great, dark urge burning inside him and hex the ugly toad into a pile of dust. Or swing his fist over and over again until the teeth to that nauseatingly sweet smile of hers were knocked out- a look that might would have actually be an improvement from her current state. It was a struggle though, but he managed not to do it.
He refused to give her the satisfaction on knowing that she had gotten to him. He refused to give the students with their whispers, their looks more fuel to use for their stories. For the whole hour of class, he managed to keep a calm, cool composure that actually would please Aunt Cissa. Lucius too.
Yet in a matter of seconds, that cool composure was broken.
He could say that it was because of the priest clothes and the rosary. It could be, along with the crap he had said about Harry, the bullshit he had said about Pansy. Harry, though, knew the reason why.
McLaggen's taunting had turned towards Draco, stating he'd be the next corpse that'd die because of Harry.
Anger swept across Harry in vicious waves, threatening to pull him under as the memory surfaced in his mind. He took in a deep breath and attempted to push it aside, balling his hands into tight fists and then uncurling them.
Having the terrifying thought he had been carrying all summer, even before the school year was over, said out loud? Thrown right back in his face, triggering thousands of images of Draco still and lifeless, the recent nightmare of his empty eyes staring up at Harry with his broken neck?
At first anger hit him hard. Then anger melted into a distant, cooling calm. It was if Harry was pulled away from his body and replaced by something else. Something cold. Something dark.
Punish him.
Those words felt riveting. Freeing. Justified. He wanted to punish McLaggen for his crap. Used his little toys against him.
And when he did…Harry was…was…happy. Disturbing as it was, terrifying as it was, he felt happy. Delighted. There was joy he remembered blooming in his chest at the boy's pained expression. The rosary bound around his neck, burning his skin. The looks of the other students' faces that were filled with fear and shock.
He loved seeing their fear. He delighted in it. He wanted more of it.
Harry's body flinched, as if he were struck hard across the face. Merlin, what had he done?
"Lightening lands its' mark, swift and true."
A few inches closer and Harry would have been falling off the edge, courtesy of the jump that rattled his body at the voice cutting through his thoughts.
Luna stood beside him, smiling serenely, staring at the horizon of tress spread throughout the forest. "Lightening lands its mark, swift and true. Yet it is thunder that lands the first blow."
Harry's brows creased.
Luna's smile brightened when she turned to him. "People always think it's the loudest shout that announces the storm's arrival. When in truth," Her eyes gleamed brightly. "it is the quietest whisper."
All previous thoughts were silenced as he tried to understand where Luna was going with this.
"I swear, Lovegood, you could give Trewlany a run for her money." A glance over Harry's shoulder revealed Blaise was behind them, leaning against one of the inner walls.
Luna grinned at Blaise, as if she was paid a compliment. Harry wasn't completely sure it was one.
"How did you find me?" Harry asked.
"I simply let the atmosphere of fears and unease guide us here," Luna shot him a smile. "Seems that I was correct."
He definitely knew that it wasn't a compliment.
"There are some things you need to hear, Harry. I'll let you Blaise speak to first. We'll talk when the moment is right?"
When the moment was right? Questions stirred in Harry's head, but before he could ask one, Luna was gone and Blaise took over her place.
"Pretty but strange," Blaise said as he sat down beside him. "Lucky for Malfoy, you made it clear you're off the market otherwise I think the poor girl would possibly get a hands-on face touch-up."
Harry's cheeks burnt as he remembered the kiss from this morning. A kiss that felt like a lifetime ago. A kiss he hoped would make the day a bit better. Little did he know how wrong it would go.
"When I said, Potter, the best way to kill the scandal is to create a bigger one," Blaise said. "I should have stressed that when creating that scandal, there's a fine line between sizzle and a total shit fire."
There was no question where Harry's latest mess fell under. "How bad?'
"Bad."
Merlin. Harry ran through his hair, pulling at the ends. Was it too much to ask that he somehow made it through one damn school year without trouble finding its' way to him? Especially after last year.
"Pansy told us what happened."
"How mad is he?" Harry's mind couldn't even imagine the level.
Blaise took a moment to answer. "Let's just say that I hope for McLughead's sake, Madame Pomfrey keeps him in the hospital under severe watch and away from Malfoy for the rest of the year. Or graduation."
Harry didn't know if he should take that as a comfort or a bad thing.
"So, do you wanna share with me exactly what happened?"
Harry opened his mouth and no answer came out. What could he say? That somehow his anger got the better of him, turned to dark magic, and he would have used made McLaggen into a corpse thanks to a stupid rosary that burnt before his eyes? That somehow he heard Tom Riddle's-Voldemort's voice and instead of the usual disgust and anger that came with the man, Harry felt steadily calm even. As if Riddle was a gentle hand guiding him through the mayhem.
Must have been how Ginny ended up writing in his journal, kept coming back to the journal, which lead to the Chamber of Secrets being opened.
The thought and memory was like cold water pouring over him, soaking him to the bone.
Was that what happened to him? Had he been possessed?
"Alright, how about I share something with you? Several somethings actually. Some of which you know, you don't," Blaise dove right in. "A great evil is coming-whether or not people believe it or not. I believe soon enough the Wizarding World may enter into its' third war-maybe it's final with the way most people are quaking in their boots with their tails in between their legs. I believe you are and will quickly soon find yourself surrounded by people who could prove to be an ally or enemy. Depending on how carefully you tread." Blaise's eyes flickered over to him. "Most in your own domain."
Harry's blood went cold. There were rumors whispered here and there, accusations in the books he managed to find, even written in snippets of old articles on how most of those on Voldemort's side were purebloods. Harry had thought that it was just that: rumors. Lucius, though, turned out being one-possibly-suggested otherwise. What of the others? How many followers were still loyal to Voldemort's cause? How many of those followers were parents or relatives to the same people Harry walked past by on a daily basis through the Slytherin common room? How many of those same people in the Slytherin house believed in that cause?
"Are you saying-"
"I'm not saying anything." Blaise cut him off. "I'm merely suggesting. Just like I'm offering this piece of suggestion. There's no doubt as we speak, rumors are already spreading though the school of what happened between you and the little cub."
Rat is more like it, Harry seethed.
"People are going to say one of many, many things. Reporters will say another. The newspapers will say more. I suggest you use what happened to your advantage."
"How so?"
Blaise turned over to him. His face so solemn, so cool, it was almost frightening. Harry couldn't recall a time Blaise looked like so serious. "Right now, Potter, there are two different narratives about you: the lunatic and the liar. With this new one from the stunt you pulled, you can create a new narrative."
"Like what?" Harry snapped. "Dangerous? Deadly?"
"Yes," Blaise answered back evenly, a strong glint crossing his eye. "Both. One or the other. Whichever you can make work into your favor. Shows people you can't be dismissed. Shows that you are a threat in the best kind of way. And help you win followers."
"Followers?"
Blaise let out a low sigh that sounded like a hum as he turned his back to the front. "War is coming, Potter. And with war, there are sides that people have to choose. One will be the Dark Lord's. One will be the light. Then," He glanced back at him, looking more serious than Harry could ever remember. "A third one, if he proves he's capable."
Blaise's words rang around his head as Harry walked through the corridor, into the dungeons.
Bizarre as it sounded, incredulous as it was, Harry saw that there were valid points in Blaise's words. People would question what happened. How he did it. What was done might help him. Blaise was right about one thing though. War was coming. Harry could feel it. Soon everyone, whether they believed it or not, would be forced to pick a side.
In the first war, there were two sides: Grindelwald and his supporters versus those against them. In the second war, Voldemort led with his army and Dumbledore fighting against him with his own army, the Order that included his parents, Sirius, Remus.
He wondered what side Blaise and his mother were on. Pansy? Theo? His stomach turned at the idea of them being on Voldemort's side.
Before he could start figuring out his next move, Harry needed to know everything, especially on what happened to him. There was only one person he knew that had the answers.
Harry stopped in front of Severus's door and sucked in a deep breath, fist raised. He hadn't talked to Severus, not really since that night. Harry ended up sleeping at Snape Manor and when he woke up, he saw Snape was no longer there. Probably to spare him the embarrassment of figuring out where he stood.
Harry still had no idea where they stood.
But what he did know was that Severus was the only one who could have the answers he needed.
Which was why when Severus pulled the door opened before Harry's fist touched it, standing there with a remote expression, as if awaiting Harry's presence and annoyed with having to wait so long, the following sentence just burst out of Harry's mouth:
"Can Voldemort control minds?"
Snape's eyes narrowed. Harry pressed on, frustration bleeding through as he asked, "Can he?"
Severus stared at him for a moment and retreated back to his quarters. After staring at his back for a second or two, Harry stepped in.
The fireplace was already set aflame, holding a massive fire. The table was set with a large kettle of tea and two mugs already filled, hinting that Snape suspected Harry's arrival, and a large jug of bourbon of with two small glasses beside it.
Harry took his spot on the couch, hands wringing together. Severus stood by the fireplace, watching the fire. Unsure with what to do with himself, Harry drank one of the tea cups.
Halfway through the third refill, the silence was continued on, slightly pricked by Harry's slow sips, the soft thud of his mug as it was picked up and down. Halfway through the next sip, Harry's annoyance from the silence began to get to him, hardening to frustration.
"I'm assuming you heard about what happened." Harry said.
"It's Hogwarts," was all Severus said.
Harry bit down on his tongue that was already filling up with comments and aggravation. Looks like Blaise was right about one thing. If it reached Snape down there in the dungeons, then by now it reached everyone. Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore. Umbridge. Draco.
Dear god, Draco.
"Can you…" Harry bit his lip.
Snape still watched the flames, but Harry knew from the way his back straightened out that his attention was grabbed.
"Can you…can you look into my mind and see what happened? If he was there?" If he was still there.
A moment, a long, hard moment of silence and then-"Do you know what you're asking?"
Yes. No. Maybe. From all his reading and studying, Harry was still only in the beginning of Legilmency and Occclumency. He didn't understand the practice behind it. How it would be like. But he did know from almost all the readings he'd done, the two in very distinct emotions that ranged from invasive to painful.
Harry's hold on his mug tightened, muscles straining underneath his skin. His mind was already a nightmare all of his own. He didn't need anyone else to see it.
McLaggen's terrified face, hands grasping onto the burning rosary. The threat on Draco being the next corpse. Tom Riddle's voice floating in his head.
"Punish him."
"This isn't the first time Voldemort has been in my head."
Severus spun around so fast, Harry nearly suffered from whiplash. He would have flinched if not the sharp, heated look in Severus's glare, vanishing that calm exterior, that kept Harry in place.
"I-"
Severus cut him off, a tightness straining at his tone. "What," he demanded in a low, pinched tone that put Harry's nerves on high. "did you just say?"
Harry suddenly wanted that heavy silence back.
"I meant…I meant…" Harry swallowed. "After-after everything that happened fourth year, I started having visions. Dreams. Really intense, disturbing dreams of people getting hurt. Tortured. Sometimes even killed. And sometimes in those dreams…it feels like he's me. Or I'm him."
The sharpness hardened in Snape's as they stared off into space.
"So I need to know." Harry said. "I have to know if he's there."
"Which only reinforces my original question," Snape said. "Do you know what you're asking?"
He had to know. "Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Now, before he lost his nerve.
"Are you sure?"
Oh, for the love for stinking Merlin. "Just fucking do it already-"
Discomfort stung the right side of his temple, as if it were touched by a mosquito, irritation spreading like wildfire. Then discomfort honed to a razor-sharp pain that exploded behind his eye, spreading throughout his head until it felt like he was dunked head first into a pool of fire.
Harry screamed, tea mug flying from his hand, as he grasped onto his head, down on his knees. The pain refused to be swayed. It was like a butcher knife, making a clean slit across the surface of his brain before the blade reached in, spreading the slit wider. The blade morphing into a hand, searching for something, pulling out something like a page from the book.
There. There it was. Where he was. Harry with Pansy and Neville on one side, McLaggen on the other side. He was standing across from them, like he was a spectator, part of the show but invisible to all.
Harry watched his past self carefully, searching for any sign of possession. He picked up on the annoyance that stirred in his chest from McLaggen's failed exorcism. That annoyance firing up to anger as McLaggen explained the reasoning for it. Saying how numerous parents wanted Harry expelled for the safety of the other students, calling him a liar and a psychopath, accusing him of killing Cedric and Draco being the next victim.
Harry's skin was scorching through the anger brewing through his past-self, watching him tremble from the tension. Anger that burnt hotter, more intensely with each word that came out from the bastard's mouth. Hotter, more frantic.
Anger that came to a halt, like a fireball contained, sealed as his past-self glanced down at the discarded rosary. He studied the boy's face carefully for any sense of possession. Twitching limbs, a sharp breath, widened eyes with a touch of fear, dark magic tangling around him.
Nothing.
The boy's face was smooth, polished, unbothered polish. He studied the rosary as if it were a priceless gem and then there was a presence.
He sensed something, almost like another person standing close to him. To both of them, an easy, serene presences that tamed his anger.
Then there was humming. Humming to a sweet, sweet song that was pure and calm as a lullaby, nearly putting Harry into a slow, deep trance, falling under the spell of the song and the presence that felt warm and steady. Like a father's hand patting your head, support and care felt through every touch.
Almost as his dad's own hand felt.
"Punish him."
Harry's eyes snapped opened.
He whirled around wildly, as if he could find Voldemort in the crowd. Deadly pale skin, burning red eyes. Nothing. He turned back to past-Harry, whose face was blank but gaze changed. A slow, changing light entering his eye.
That strange presence came back again, warm and gentle, thick like honey, blocking everything out-all thoughts, all emotions, everything and anything but the soft humming.
"Punish him."
A ghost of a smile touched his face, an inhuman smile that matched the glint in his eyes, disappearing as soon it appeared, chilling Harry to the very core.
From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted the discarded rosary lying on the ground. The ends began to twitch, then the charm, the middle, until the entire necklace was shaking. The rosary moved like a snake, crawling across the floor and sneaking an unsuspecting McLaggen, gliding up his body and coiling around his neck.
Harry watched in horror as his past self in the midst of chaos was watching it all in fascination. Like an experiment. No, Harry corrected with a heavy block of fear that weighted down on him. No, not like it was an experiment but a game.
A game that grew more entertaining as McLaggen fell down to his knees, suffocating from the tight grip of the rosary. More entertaining as the beads glowed and ignited, burning his skin. More entertaining as streaks of burnt skin peeled off.
"Punish him."
The song became sugary, like thick rolls of the sweetest honey unraveling inside him, wrapping around him and pulling him under. The honeyed warmth weighting down on him like pounds of cement slowly piling on top of his shoulders, on his head, against his back, nearly pushing Harry forward.
Startled, Harry tried to fight against the pull, straighten himself out, and looked at his past-self. And almost immediately wished he hadn't.
A cruel smile was carved on his face, a bone-chilling gleam flashing in his eyes, stared back at him in wicked delight. The same expression Harry saw when his reformed body emerged from the cauldron, whole and alive again. The same expression Harry saw as he was bruised and battered, surrounded by dark magic and laughter, sure he was going to die.
Voldemort's smile
Nausea knotted his stomach.
"Punish him."
NO! Harry tried to scream but not a sound came out. McLaggen was down on his knees, struggling, suffocating as the rosary burnt away at his skin, and Snape was suddenly standing in front of Harry.
"I think we've seen enough."
The scene began to fade away, breaking off into bites until only blackness remained. Harry felt like being pulled up-
And down on all four, nausea hitting him with the force of the Hogwarts train. He leaped onto his feet and raced to the bathroom, feeling it burning his stomach, shooting up his chest, filling his throat-his mouth.
All of it coming out in a sickening display as Harry heaved into the toilet. Heaving the mugs of tea he drank and the few bits of breakfast he choked down this morning, The Welcoming Feast dinner from the night before. Every other thing he had to eat and drink until there was nothing left in his stomach. Until he was dry-heaving, body shuddering as after-shocks of the illness rocked through him, tears and sweat coating, as that image of his face with the cruel smile and the flash of red played over and over in his head.
It could have been minutes, could have been an hour Harry spent with his head buried in the toilet. All he knew was that his stomach felt so shredded, he couldn't imagine the struggle of eating again. The sleeves and hem of his sweat-coated sweater was completely ruined by the multiple times he used them as rags to wipe his face.
What he saw. What he did. How he looked when he was doing….nausea slammed against him like a swift kick, and he clamped his mouth to keep what remained sealed.
After the last flush, Harry stood up on shaky legs. He charged past the house-elf who was waiting for with a cup of tea. He ignored the nausea that spiked his stomach again, threatening to send him back to the bathroom. He stood in front of Severus with his clammy skin, his ruined sweat, and demanded, "What's happening to me?"
Severus answered back his question with one of his own. "Are you ready to hear the truth?"
That stopped him cold. The truth? Severus mentioned it once that night, saying there was so much Harry didn't know, so much he needed to know. Harry could tell back then that it was terrifying. Now he knew if he learned the truth, there was no way he could unlearn it. What Severus could say, might know would completely change everything. May confirm horrible theories Harry had been trying not to look into.
Yet at the same time might have the answers Harry needs.
Sucking in a deep breath, Harry nodded and took a seat across from Severus. Severus picked up the bourbon bottle and filled the two glasses. He brought one close to him, then pushed the other over to Harry.
Harry glanced at the glass, then over to Severus.
"What I'm about to share with you is not for the faint of heart. Nor is it information easy to digest," He gestured towards the cup. "I suggest you savor the rarity in me allowing you to indulge in the remedy, because I doubt I'll be so generous next time."
Harry could feel the remaining bits of his stomach wither into dead vines. He took a nervous sip, attempting not to wince from the hard taste. How in Merlin's name Draco managed to chug down a number of this to get completely smashed, Harry had no idea.
"The Dark Lord and you do…share, lack of a better word, a connection," Severus started. "In more ways than one."
Harry's mind went back to his dream of the room of mirrors, a young Tom Riddle listing out all the ways they were alike. He sucked in another, much longer sip to calm his shudders. "Why?"
Once again, Severus replied with a question. "What did we learn from the vision?"
That his head still ached, as if Severus had pried it open with his bare hands and searing-hot pilers. That what he sensed in the vision, what he saw didn't feel like possession. Not like the Imperious curse they had been introduced to last year, where he could feel the fake Moody's influence on him every step of the way. It wasn't like feeling his limbs being pulled apart like a puppet, a voice directing his movements.
It was more so a sense of serenity. Like a warm cloak being draped across him, blocking everything out except the sweet warmth and his magic buzzing, humming a sweet song to him. A song that broadened his mind to the possibility of repaying back that stupid prank with a hard lesson.
Harry trembled, gripping onto his cup.
"It didn't feel like a possession. Not like the curse did with Moody-I mean…Crouch Jr. It felt-it felt-" Dear Merlin, he didn't know how to describe it. "Calming. Peaceful. Like something came in, and something else switched on."
Which didn't answer one damn thing, other than confirming that the idea sounded crazy to Harry's own ears. From the tight frown on Severus's face, it was clear it wasn't a mutual feeling.
"Can Voldemort control do that though? Control minds? Possess someone fully like that? Without the use of a spell?" And so far away? Dread pricked at his insides. It was already bad enough that Voldemort took over Harry's dreams. But the idea that he could do that to him when he's awake? Could use that kind of power on anyone around him? Close to him?
"The Dark Lord possesses many gifts, great and terrible gifts no one in the history of the Magic had ever seen before. Surpassing even Grindelwald himself. Including possession if the occasion and need for entertainment came about. And mind control-"
"So he can read minds?"
Severus snorted. "Given your state of mind at the moment, I'll allow the comment. But no. Only Muggles talk of "mind-reading". The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter – or at least, most minds are."
"But he can go through them?"
"Yes, and create holes and trap doors until you're a prisoner inside your own head to the worst of memories and most horrifying hallucinations, questioning what is real, what is fantasy. It was a personal favorite torture technique of the Dark Lord."
Images of dead bodies of the people he cared about, his parents, Cedric and his hollow eyes gazing up at the sky, Draco with his broken neck surfaced to his mind. Harry tried to distract himself with his glass, but was shocked to find it empty. Severus refilled both glasses for them, picking up his own and settling back into his seat.
"I'll skip the usual introduction and explanation of good and bad magic, Light and Dark wizards. I believe Professor Binns already covered that in great detail."
Harry nodded.
"Most have this sentimental idea that the entire wizarding world is in great harmony, when in reality it couldn't be far from the truth. Cracks began to fracture into gaps during the early 1900s, as Grindelwald came into power and nearly cause the wizarding world to rot from within. But from the beginning, there have been many who didn't believe in restrictions the Ministry had over magic, particularly those that fell under the dark arts that was hidden away. For the safety of the public- or so they say.
"None were more fervent in the protest against the Ministry or more passionate of the Dark Arts than Tom Riddle himself. Who was of the greatest minds Hogwarts ever taught, gifted with power not yet seen before. And yes, was also a fellow Slytherin, one whose hatred of Muggles was almost as intense as his thirst for power. Particularly those of the Dark Arts."
"But why-"
"His hatred for Muggles soon became all-consuming. Before long, he found others that shared in his ideals, his vision on the Wizarding World renewed anew. A new world where only certain individuals would be allowed to live in."
"Purebloods?" The look Harry received confirmed it.
"The years passed on and with it, his power and follower count grew tremendously. Until all of England, the entire country of Europe itself, was cloaked under fear and suspension."
That fitted perfectly with that Sirius had told him over at the pub after the Second Task on what happened during the rise and fall of Crouch.
"The Ministry refused to admit that they were facing a threat that refused to be caged and wanted its presence to be known. And so they do what all fools in history had done when faced with a crisis: bury themselves in blissful ignorance. Placing more restrictions, including a strict curfew, inspections at various work places and works for any sign of usual behavior-but only known to a certain individuals tasked with containing that threat. And parties."
Harry blinked, baffled. "I beg your pardon."
"Parties. Balls. Their way of assuring the public and themselves they were in control."
The idea was so absurd, so incredibly vain, that it seemed exactly the thing the Ministry would do. Hell, Harry realized with a scowl, they were doing it right now, placing all fear and terror on Harry because a fifteen year old wizard with wild stories was easier to control than the idea of an infamous Dark wizard coming back from the dead.
"I'm sure you can imagine what side the fearing public chose to believe. If those in power claimed there was no threat, then there was no threat. Even if the missing number of persons began to rise, as well as violent activities. Until one night that ignorance was shredded when a prophecy had been made, proclaiming the arrival of a child. One born in the month of July, gifted with a great power equal to that of the Dark Lord. Destined to his downfall."
A prophecy? A child…born in July.
"The idea was ludicrous at the time. The best of the Aurors couldn't beat the Dark Lord. Unspeakables had very little luck predicting his next movement, much less capturing him. Yet some moon-eyed prophet proclaimed a child would do so. A prophet, despite the extraordinary bloodline she came from, was associated for being very unsettled."
"Unsettled?" Harry repeated.
"Perhaps unstable would be the better word."
Unsettled. Unstable. Wild gray and brown hair barely contained in colorful scarves, charms jiggling from the frantic movement of her hands, widened eyes staring out from wide wired-frames. Harry's heart gave a start. "Professor Trelawney?"
Severus nodded his head once. "The one and same."
Harry's mouth dropped.
"As mentioned before, given the woman's erratic nature, many would have dismissed her words as rubbish. Yet, the person who was there to witness the prophecy being made took them as a serious matter."
"What exactly did they do?"
Severus's mouth straightened in a tight, thin line.
"Who was this person? This one person who heard what Professor Trelawney said?"
Severus eyed him and said, "Take a guess."
There were few people in the world were able to say Voldemort's name without a scrape of fear, and one in particular stuck out in Harry's mind. A person Harry could see lasting in a fight with Voldemort, given the strength of his magic. A person who always seems to know more than most, delivering answers with riddles and lemon drops. The name slid into his head, one Harry couldn't knock out. "It was Dumbledore, wasn't it?"
Severus's mouth cracked opened, as if he were about to speak, then his mouth abruptly closed as a slow shudder went through his entire body. He shifted slightly in his chair, twisting his head, as if he were fighting against a great itch. Hands clasping onto the arm rests, Severus directed his head back to the fireplace, saying nothing, but his silence said enough.
"What did he do? When he heard of the prophecy?"
"The prophecy was concealed," Severus answered. "With only a few knowing of its existence, it managed to be kept as a secret. Until almost six years later, the prophecy was brought up again, Trelawney claiming that the child grows-as well his powers. That the Dark Lord's reign would soon come to an end. This time, an unexpected guest heard what was meant to be unsaid. A servant of the Dark Lord who caught word of the Prophecy and reported it back to his master."
One name came to mind. "Pettigrew!" Harry growled lowly, his blood boiling.
"Shockingly enough, no. Pettigrew had always been a spineless swine, even back when we were in school together, so the truth about his alliance didn't come as a complete surprise. However he didn't join The Dark Lord's side until much later. This was done by another who was just cowardly, just as spineless."
"What did Vold-" Severus's eyes flashed in warning. Defiance sparked up Harry's spine, but he forced himself to go against it. "What did He do? When he found out?"
More importantly, was Severus there when it happened? Did Dumbledore call him after Trelawney said the first prophecy? The second? Those were questions Harry kept quiet on, though, unsure if he wanted to know.
"The Dark Lord listened to him carefully. Made him repeat what he had to say in his presence. Then once more to the followers that were called in to listen. Once the servant said what he had to say, The Dark Lord split the poor fool into two. From underbelly to head."
Horror nearly strangled Harry.
"The Dark Lord dared for anyone else to repeat what the fool had to say. Dared for anyone to continue on with the ridiculous fable tale. None did, out of fear, out of doubt. Because it was absurd. The idea that a child could even be equal to him. The Dark Lord tossed the idea from his mind, and commanded them all to do the same because there was none like him. There had never been one like him, and there will never be one like him."
If Harry didn't think the man was mad before, he was now fully convinced. He also saw that his hatred for Muggles and the prophecy weren't the only cause of his downfall.
"However as time went on, hard as he tried, his mind still went back to what his former follower had said. Hard as he fought against it, no matter how many times he tried to silence the thought, the Dark Lord's mind wouldn't rest. It wasn't long until he became fixated. This insignificant child, said to be equal of the very same power he spent decades mastering, perfecting, destined to be his downfall. Finally, he laid out an order to his followers."
Despite the seed of horror that planted itself into his stomach, despite the fact he could already see where this story was going, causing that seed to wildly sprout into the veins pricked through the insides, Harry still asked, "What order?"
"The extermination of all magical children seven and under born in July."
Harry was dimly aware his mouth was opened so wide, his jaw ached from the weight. But he couldn't move. He couldn't think. He couldn't even breathe. His brain was fixated, horrified, shook by what Severus said.
The extermination of all magical children seven and under. Seven and under. Not just Muggle-borns, not just Half-bloods. All, meaning-"You mean to say that Purebloods actually…they actually…"
Severus poured him another glass. Harry finished it in five quick gulps. "Some pleaded their children's innocence. Those that hadn't picked a side traded their loyalty for their child's life."
Could that have been Lucius for doing what he did? Draco was born a month earlier, so he would have been spared. But Harry didn't immediately dismiss the idea.
"As for the others…" Severus shrugged. "Some saw it as a worthy sacrifice."
Just when Harry was sure his stomach couldn't have gotten any more knotted, any more sickened, he was struck down by another lash. It was unthinkable. It was unspeakable. That parents would even-even-
"Just how fucking deep were his claws in them?!" Harry roared, shooting up from his chair.
Severus stared back at him evenly, furthering gassing the anger brewing inside him.
"HOW?!" Harry demanded. "They were that desperate for a world without Muggles, hated them that much, they were killing to have their kids die for the cause?"
"Some even carried out the order." Severus answered back evenly.
The anger roaring inside Harry was plummeted into dust as shock twined with horror stabbed into him, causing to collapse back onto the couch.
"A trait long associated and often forgotten about the snake is their gift of persuasion. None were more skilled than the Dark Lord. Many shared his beliefs on the harm Muggle-borns were bringing into their world, diminishing traditions that have been the center stone from the very beginning. Destroying our ideals and ways to make room for theirs. The destruction was seen as a just cause to preservation of our own. No matter the cost."
Harry thought of Hitler. He thought of Grindelwald again. Men with delusional, prejudiced ideas of the new world order, but somehow attracted the attention of many who lived and breathed for their "teachings" Thoroughly, lived and breathed for those teachings. The Holocaust alone was proof how it took one charming man, a string of carefully-placed words for an entire nation to fall into chaos. Harry always thought the Wizarding World would be different, but he was beginning to see how easily it was to control and persuade in both worlds.
What happened back then was exactly what the Ministry was doing right now, acting as if nothing happened. Umbridge repeating the same crap they were sprouting that there was no threat. Based off what Severus said, the Wizarding World nearly fell apart because of it.
He glanced over at Severus. He didn't have children of his own, so it was unlikely that was the motive. He knew his uncle wasn't fond of Muggle-borns. He wanted to ask, but wasn't ready to hear that answer yet, so instead he asked:
"Why under?"
Severus's brows furrowed.
"You said he gave orders to every Death Eater to kill every child seven and under. Why under?"
"His idea of being cautious. There was no telling how old the child was. It would have been an infant recently born. A toddler learning to walk. Or even a young child about to begin their magical training. There was no telling, so seven was the number he decided on and went from there."
Harry's heart gave a tight, slow squeeze that caused his next breath to feel like a trapped butterfly. "And the Ministry?"
"Finally acted when the death count became too high to be simply marked as unrelated incidents."
Too high? Too high? Harry knew it wasn't uncommon for people share birthdays. But according to the prophecy, the child was born in July, towards the end? But when exactly? The very last day, which also happened to be his birthday? The day before that? The week? But there was also to take in country-wise? World-wise? That was a lot of people.
"How many?" Harry croaked.
Severus looked him right in the eye. "In Europe alone, four thousand."
Harry didn't know which ones fell harder: the glass that slipped from his hand or his stomach that fell all the way down to his toes.
"Give or take, at least. Particularly if we're not counting the scraps that were too maimed to be identified."
Harry clamped his mouth to keep in the burst of nausea that spiked after his toss-up in the bathroom coming back with a vengeance, stirring inside his stomach.
So…so many kids. So many kids whose lives were cut short, based on the whims of a madman unable to let go of the idea someone could actually beat him.
Memories pricked along the edges of his head. His dad returning home from the Ministry, face grim as he peeled away his uniform. His mum pulling more late-night shifts at the Hospital. Dad's face growing tighter as he read the paper. Mum's hold firm as she rocked him to sleep, sending him off to dreamland with soft kisses and…tears.
He could feel those beads dripping onto his hair before he slipped off into sleep.
"Dad caught on," Harry murmured. "He knew it was a matter of time before they got to me."
His dad was an Auror who handled grim cases, ranging from brutal assault to murder. Probably walked into those same crime scenes orchestrated by the Death Eaters, his stomach churning at the white sheets covering a small, mangled body. His mom worked at the hospital and doubtlessly glimpsed at the bodies being brought into the morgue, noticing how slightly bigger or smaller the small victims were compared to her own son, noticing the common denominator that connected them to Harry.
From then on, Harry filled in the rest. His parents decided to go into hiding. Sirius was picked as the oathkeeper, but that soon suggested Pettigrew. Halloween night.
"I survived," Harry breathed, remembering the flash of green. "He tried to kill me but I survived."
Severus said nothing, but his silence spoke more than words could.
"That just confirmed it," Harry continued, voice hollowed. He felt severed, as if his body was going one way, his mind another. "Voldemort found out my parents were going into hiding. They tried to protect me and died because of it. He tried to kill me, but I lived. I lived and they died." Harry's voice cracked towards the end, anguish leaking into his voice. "I'm responsible for my parents' deaths. All those deaths-all those kids-it's because of me. It's my fault. I'm responsible-"
Severus's hand came down on his arm with a force like thunder, gripping onto it so tightly, Harry felt the bones underneath caving in.
"For. Nothing." He spat, eyes fierce, tone of absolute finality. "You are responsible for, at fault of, and the cause of nothing!"
Harry looked up at him, frame trembling.
"The death order was the fault of the Dark Lord. The death count the cause of those that carried out the order. Those responsible for the destruction and mayhem leading to and following afterwards were those too ignorant to act."
Harry's eyes burnt. His chest so tight he could barely breathe.
"Your parents' deaths were the cause of them doing everything in their power to ensure you would be safe. Even if it cost them their own lives."
It was all too much for Harry. The amount of pain. The power Voldemort had, and the number of people under his control. The kids that were killed. His parents dying. Harry leaned forward and pressed his face against Severus's robes, just wanting everything to stop and go away.
The second he felt Severus's hand resting on top of his head, Harry dissolved into tears.
"Why me?" he choked. "Why? I'm just a kid. A kid, God damnit! I can't-I just…"
His frustration erupted into a gush of hot tears.
It felt like hours until he managed to pull himself away. His eyes were so puffy, it hurt to blink.
"Why me?" Harry asked again. "Why not Dumbledore? The Aurors? I'm just a kid."
"To the latter, you are the symbol meant to give people hope. To the former, he believes you are destined to do what needs to be done."
"Destined?"
"He also believes that you should be kept in the dark." Severus met Harry's bewildered eyes. "As a way to preserve your innocence. To allow you to be a child."
To be a-Harry's anger sparked inside him, sweeping over him. "I haven't been a child since I nearly lost my life to that Basilisk. I haven't been a child since I saw Cedric die right in front of me. I haven't been a child since my parents were killed! I haven't been a fucking child since I WAS SEVEN YEARS OLD!"
Severus simply stared at him without another word. Harry felt some of his anger dwindle but not completely disappear, shimmering along the edges. He glanced over at his glass that was shattered pieces besides his feet. Too exhausted to use magic to fix it, Harry took Severus's glass that was almost done, poured more bourbon into the glass, and finished it in three gulps, getting used to the bitter taste of liquor.
"Should I be impressed or concerned with how quickly you're adjusting to bourdon?"
Harry glared at him and fixed himself another glass. His head was starting to get warm, too warm, and he could feel a flush coming through, heating his skin. His grip was shaky, vision a bit uneasy as he set the glass back.
"I do agree with you." He looked over at Severus. "I'm not a fan of the idea of you being in the dark. Your last close encounter with Him proves that."
Harry doubted Voldemort would wait until Harry was old enough to face him.
"So Voldermort can control me?"
Severus pursued his lips, his expression stone, as he thought on it. "I don't know if it was a possession. It didn't feel like a typical invasion. It felt like a…surge. Like a powerful surge came in and went off. But there is no denying that you and he share a bond. It is possible from that bond, some influence, again lack of a better word, came over you."
In other words, he could. "So how the hell do I fucking cut the connection?"
Severus's eyes glared warningly at his tone, but answered, "You start by learning to defend yourself. Firstly with the mind."
"Occlumency."
"Legilimency, or mind-reading as you liked to call it, was one of the Dark Lord's greatest talent. Occlumency is a way to block it."
Harry sucked the last bits of his drink, tilting his head back and bringing it back up once the liquor went down. He squeezed his eyes as he felt the warmth swirling around him, heating his body from the inside out. His eyes slipped over to Severus.
"What made him so appealing to you?" Harry asked. "Why did you join him in the first place?"
"I believe we're done here for today."
"Severus-"
"Potter." Harry knew that tone, that thin and ice-cold voice that let alerted him he was walking on thin ice.
Harry bit his lip, frustration and anger bubbling inside him. He made his way over to the door, taking longer than usual since his head felt heavy, his legs felt heavy, and he just wanted sleep.
"Harry."
He didn't turn around, but did paused.
"I feel it should go without saying that these past few months will be difficult. People from all sides, one in particular, will be looking for any sign of weakness against you. Certain things, certain people."
Harry let the words set in and released a dry sound that was a cross between a faint laugh and a snort. "Certain people? You mean my relationship with Draco?"
"This is a crucial time, where you need to vigilant. Allowing a distraction like that, flaunting it as you did this morning, puts you both at terrible risk-"
"I will stop you there." Harry turned over at him, feeling something hot and ugly burn inside him, building from within like molten lava. "Voldemort has taken almost everything from me." Anger seethed from each word that shot from his mouth. 'My parents, Sirius for most of my life, my damn sanity. I don't give a shit what anyone else has to say. I don't give a shit if people don't like it. Let people hear about the kiss. Let people know I'm now in a relationship with a person who's always been there for me, always cared for me right from the beginning. Without fear, without hesitation, no matter what, that also happens to be a fucking bloke! I. Don't. Care. They can look. They can whisper. Every single of them can go to hell. But I will be damned if anyone, Voldemort especially, takes this from me too."
"Even if it puts Draco in danger?" Severus inquired in that low, even tone of his that made Harry feel like a naive child. "Even if it cost him his life? Or yours?"
Harry's knees nearly buckled from the low blow struck by Severus's words. To have that fear, that deep fear, said out loud and threw back at his face, said in such a patronizing tone cut him deep to the bone. And feed more to the anger seething inside. "Well then I'll just have to kill him first, won't I?"
The statement was taken in by a brisk, unreadable look. Severus leaned back into his chair, let out a heavy breath, and stared at the fireplace.
"Did my father have something to do with you joining the Dark side?"
Severus kept his eyes focused on the fire.
"Was Mum?"
Pure silence was given as an answer, and Harry took that as a clue to leave.
~...~
Draco was waiting for him back in the door, sitting on the edge of their bed, hands balling the Slytherin green sheets, head ducked with his narrowed eyes staring off into space with a remote look on his face, as if he were thousands of miles away. Alertness came back to him at the sound of the door.
In an instant, he was on his feet and Harry was wrapped in his arms. Harry was too tired to pretend that everything was okay. He was too tired for anything really. And, so he buried his face in the nape of Draco's neck, wrapped his arms around the solid frame, and let the scent of green apples wash over him.
"I-"
"I know." Draco said.
Harry barely surpassed a sigh. Of course he did. He had no doubt Draco was one of the first people to hear about what happened, with dozens of gossip-hungry students climbing over each other to report to him about the new "mess" caused by his boyfriend.
"You sure you wanna continue on with the raging lunatic?" He imagined one-or most of them-saying.
"You're not afraid you're going to get caught in the crossfire?" He pictured another laughing, hearing the sound so clearly his skin crawled.
Harry then remembered his promise from this morning, which felt like a century ago. "What happened this morning-when I woke up I mean…I, well-"
"You can tell me later."
Bewildered, Harry pulled back. Draco's expression was somber, altered slightly by the soft smile playing across his lips. "But I-"
Draco shook his head, took Harry's hand, and led them out into the hall that was empty of students, and down to a room that was on the opposite side of the wing. The Prefects' wing, deserved for the Prefect boy and girl with their own bathroom.
It was just as grand as the Hufflepuff one Cedric helped Harry get into, including the large bath that was the size of a small pool and already prepared, overfilled with so many lavender-scented bubbles, the scent of the soap heavy in the air.
"How…how did-"
"Prefects' privilege, remember?" Draco reminded with a smile touching on the smug side. "Ranging from giving out detention slips to idiotic pests to having access to magnificent bathrooms."
Wait a second. "Does that mean you also get a new dorm as well?"
"More of a suite," Draco corrected. "And you're indeed correct. I would have moved in already, but there were some things I needed to handle first. We'll be moving in tomorrow."
Harry blinked, turning away from the bath and over to him. "Sorry, we?"
"Of course, we. You honestly didn't think I'd move into a new room without you, did you?"
Despite himself, a bewildered chuckle burst out of Harry. It seemed silly what he put it that way. After all, up until now, they'd always shared a room together. They'd always shared a bed. Probably slipped Harry's mind, given everything else, given what he'd feared and ended up telling Draco, Harry was sure things would change. That Draco would want nothing to do with him.
It was a shock and relief to that this was, at least, one of the few things he was wrong about. "You're insane, you know that?"
"I know."
Draco stepped forward and cupped his hand around Harry's cheek. A smile blossomed across Harry's lips as he kissed that hand before covering it with his own. "You're also brilliant."
"I also know."
Their lips met in a soft, light kiss that made everything from today fade into black. Body buzzing from the intoxicating sensations, Harry cupped Draco's face and swept his tongue along Draco's mouth. Draco moaned in response and held him tightly, his grip an iron clad keeping him in place.
One last kiss and Harry pulled away, vision going spotty from lack of oxygen.
"The water's getting cold," Draco bit down on his bottom lip. "I didn't go through all the trouble of putting together a good bath for the heat to go to waste."
Harry moved further down along the edge and slipped off his shoes, kicking them behind him. As his hands went to the hem of his sweater, he saw Draco was heading over to the door. "You're leaving?"
Draco paused and turned back to him, looking just as shocked by the question as Harry felt (along with embarrassment) asking it. "You want me to stay?"
"Well, I mean…" The warmth from the drinks and the kiss flooded back to his head, setting his skin aflame. "It's a big tub. I mean you put it together, so…so might as well enjoy it. Too."
Mortification and warmth curled and parried inside his body as a smirk curled around Draco's mouth. Stepping forward, he said, "Why, Mr. Potter, I had no idea you were so scandalous."
Harry had to look away from Draco's face before he simultaneously combusted. "Shut up."
Draco snickered. Cheeks flushed, Harry turned his back to him and resumed his undressing. Off with his sweater, then his under-shirt. Next were his trousers, his socks, and his glasses that he set on top of his sweater. Down to his underwear, Harry hooked his fingers around the elastic band, then paused. For a spilt second, he wondered if he could get away with going into tub with it on. After all, he still remembered how Moaning Myrtle became an unexpected bath mate last time he was in the Prefects' bathroom.
Quickly as the thought came, it disappeared like a hard kick to a ball. It would be fine. After all, it was just Draco. They had even showers together after Quidditch practice. Granted, in separate stalls, and usually one was already inside while the other was still undressing. They took baths together when they were kids, although back then they didn't see anything wrong with that anymore than they did see anything wrong with kissing each other so young. Also, given everything they've already done, it seemed stupid he would be so-
"Harry."
Nervous. A concept that was ridiculous, but as Harry glanced over at Draco, realized it was perfectly justified.
Nervous blew up his heart, pumping up the organ until it took up his entire chest, nearly breaking through his throat. Nervous were heated, anxious pangs Harry felt curling in his lower stomach as he studied Draco's nude body for the first time in proper lightening. The soft light of the room emphasized his lean form, the valley of pale skin that looked soft to touch, and the eye-catching cock, long but thick, nestled between his legs in a patch of light brownish hair.
Nervous singed all sense in his brain into liquid goo that slide down from his melted brain down to the sole of his feet. By the time Harry snapped back to reality, he saw he wasn't the only one admiring.
Draco studied him just as intensely and Harry was hit with an urgent, desperate need to kiss him. Anywhere, everywhere. His hair, his neck, his chest, his lips, everywhere. And from the way Draco looked at him, the feeling was mutual. In Draco's eyes, he could see where this could go if they moved closer to each other. Fiery kisses with clashing teeth, desperate hands grabbing and groping onto any scrape of skin, Harry's lips and hands reaching as much as he could while Draco's own lips moved lower. Lower until Draco reached Harry's thighs, had his face buried in between Harry's thighs, licking and kissing and biting-
Desire spiked in Harry's stomach, so strong he nearly stumbled on his feet. Suddenly winded, he took in a deep breath.
Without taking his eyes off him, Draco climbed into the tub and floated over to the center. "Coming?" Mischief danced across those gray eyes. "Unless you plan on using your knickers as a float?"
His knickers as a-Oh, bloody Merlin. Harry looked down to see there was straining happening in the middle, and judging by the look on his Draco's face, along with pleased-smile, he caught on too.
As if this day couldn't get any worst.
"Come on, Potter, I promise I won't bite."
Harry tried to push pass embarrassment and nervousness to salvage the remaining bits of dignity he had left in dropping his underwear as coolly as he could, ignoring the pair of eyes burning holes into his skin, that burning gaze strengthening as Harry turned his back to him to add his underwear to the rest of the pile. Then, he took small baby steps over to the stairs, stepping into the water and paddling over to Draco.
Electric butterflies filling his stomach, Harry shot Draco a nervous smile. Draco answered back with a reassuring one of his own.
"Hi." Harry murmured.
"Hi." Draco murmured back.
The two moved over to the side, at the cue of Draco's nod, and Draco got to work. He grabbed a loofah and scrubbed it hard against a bar of soap that smelt like vanilla and lilac. Once the bath poof was drenched in water, he ran it over Harry's body. Arms, torso, his back and neck that were given devoted care, evaporating the tension that weighted down on him like cement, until almost every inch was limp with ease. Harry felt like putty in his hands. He gave himself over to the soft touches, leaning back against Draco.
"Who would have guessed?" Draco squeezed the loofah, drenching soapy water onto Harry's right shoulder. "The Boy Who Lived can easily be tamed by warm water."
"Shut up."
"Maybe I should switch your nickname to kitten."
Cheeks aflame, Harry snapped, "Shut. Up."
"Kitten. That seems fitting. And perfect." Draco concluded, managing to drop a kiss onto Harry's cheek, despite his dodging. "Always wanted a pet. Though, I must say, I am insulted. I was thinking all this time my kisses had that effect on you."
The heat that seared Harry's neck, spread over to his face and neck. Harry turned his head away, attempting to appear unfazed.
Draco wasn't fooled though. He could smell the smugness dropping off him when he kissed the other cheek. The heat brewing inside head exploded to the whole of his body as Draco caught his lips, softening Harry's resistance to a soft smile as pleasure danced up his spine from the familiar warmth and softness.
"Better than the bed right?" Draco inquired against his lips, moving Harry fully to him so they could properly kiss.
Harry nodded and pulled back slightly, wrapping his arms around Draco's shoulders. "So much better."
God that morning seemed to be the only highlight of today. It felt like it happened almost a month ago. A lifetime even. Everything else that happened afterwards was a complete nightmare.
Almost instantly, Harry's mood soured and the wonderful trance created by the bath, the kiss was ripped away like flimsy paper.
"Harry?"
He let out a sigh and returned his attention back to Draco, then looked away again. Fragments of his conversation with Snape, the nightmare of Voldemort taking control and Draco dying with a broken neck replayed in his head.
"What is it?" Draco called back his attention by placing his finger underneath Harry's chin and lifting it up, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Tell me."
He remembered his promise. No more hiding. No more shutting not, no matter how much Harry wanted to for Draco's own sake, not his own. "I-I had a nightmare last night. About Voldemort. And you." The next sigh that came out of his mouth sounded like a cross between a bitter laugh and angry cry rolled into one. "Because everything always goes back to Voldemort."
Draco leaned in closer, all traces of want erased from his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
The words spilled out of Harry like a broken dame. He told Draco about the nightmare he had this morning, about Voldemort taking control of him and cracking Draco's neck. How he had wanted to do the same to McLaggen for what he had said, and how close he had come to doing so. His conversation with Blaise about how there could be spies in their own dorm, and how Harry could use what happened with McLaggen to his advantage. Then his conversation with Severus. The destiny that predicted a child, one born at the end of July, would be Voldemort's equal and downfall. The number of children who were slaughtered before Voldemort set his sights on him. The lessons he'd soon be starting.
"Lessons?"
Harry nodded and moved his fingers through the water. That was once body-relieving hot, now turned cool. "To help make sure I'm not a helpless child the next time I see him again."
"You are not helpless." Draco hotly replied.
"You know what I mean." Harry snapped back, irritated. "I just…I just want this day to be over."
Draco moved forward until they were nearly chest to chest. "What can I do? Tell me."
Sighing, Harry smiled gently at him and placed his hands over Draco's. "You're doing enough for me just by being here."
Skepticism still lingered in Draco's eyes.
"Really." Harry insisted.
A flare of silver lit inside those eyes as Draco moved closer, his hands snaking around Harry's waist. "I can do more."
Need, heavy and thick, in his voice cut Harry to the core, causing him shiver. "Draco, you've done more than-"
A startled gasp burst from him as he felt a firm hand sliding down his stomach, brushing against his cock.
Harry's head came up, his green eyes fluttered open. "Draco…" His breath caught. Draco's eyes had changed. The iris and pupil had expanded, the whites of his eyes gone. The pupils were still round, but they looked like an owl or a hawk's eye, predatory and fastened on Harry. His heart leapt, beginning to beat faster with alarm.
Draco reacted instantly, his huge pupils dilating, swallowing the bright grey of his eyes. "Shhh," he cooed, his voice a mixture of honey and silk, lowering all worry in Harry's head to mute. "Let me take care of you. Let me make you feel good."
Harry stared up into his boyfriend's strange eyes. It was strange and startling, but the warmth there, the love… He was still Draco, the boy he had had loved forever. Releasing a slow breath, Harry forced his body to relax. His hands, which had risen to press Draco backward, fell back into the water, sinking out of sight.
"Good," Draco approved, voice soft and crooning.
Harry watched Draco's face as he slowly ran his fingers back down his chest. It tickled and raised goosebumps along his arms, his pink nipples pebbled. Draco's nails scraped over the sensitive tips and Harry twitched, swallowing a groan as his dick began to fill quickly.
He moved so quickly, so smoothly, before Harry could blink. One second, he was floating across from him, the next he was straddling Harry's thighs, lifting both hands to his hair. He scratched and massaged, and instantly Harry went limp, his eyes falling half-closed. Resistance was a distant memory as pleasure melted down his spine, but still his heart thundered. This Draco was new and strange. It was Draco, his best friend, his boy, his, but this was so new to Harry. It made his heart race.
Little kisses rained down on his cheeks, across his lips, and turned into little nips down his neck. Harry moaned and tilted his head, giving more access without thinking about it. An approving croon was Draco's response and one of the massaging hands slipped from Harry's hair to sink beneath the surface of the water. Harry arched with a gasp, his eyes flying open as Draco drug his nails softly, teasingly up his shaft. He was instantly hard.
"Draco!" He gasped, hands flying to his shoulders and gripping desperately, green eyes wide.
Draco kissed him in answer. Slow and deep, the kiss seemed to stretch for an eternity. It was Harry who broke it, flinging his head back with another gasp as Draco gripped him firmly and pumped his hand.
"Shit... Draco..."
Draco leaned closer, to nuzzle at Harry's temple.
"Draco?" Harry groaned, hips starting to rock, pleasure rocking up and down his spine, making his toes curl. But he needed to hear him, need to know this was still Draco.
"Har..Harry," his name was a drawn out whimper.
When Harry shifted his head to look into Draco's eyes, he saw so much raw need and love and lust that he crumbled. Draco needed this as much as he did. Harry lifted his mouth and hungrily kissed him, arms wrapped around him, holding him close. Draco released his cock and they slotted together perfectly. The water began to slosh slowly at first, lapping like waves against the sand. The feel of Draco's thighs flexing, of his stomach rippling with the pleasure, loud sloshing and slapping of water against the sides and heated skin made Harry pant with desire. Draco's mouth had fallen open, shiny and red, little chirps and soft cries escaping his throat. Harry was suddenly desperate to know what other sounds Draco could make.
"Fuck you're beautiful," Harry gasped and practically attacked Draco's throat, fisting the blond hair to keep Draco's head steady. He sucked and then bit down.
Draco gave a harsh cry and suddenly Harry was pressed almost violently against the side of the pool. Draco's body worked against his, lost in a haze of need and passion. Harry clung, blunt nails scoring Draco's back. The water made everything wet and warm, but also made it difficult to get the friction they both needed. Then Draco's fist was there. Tight around them both and Harry's hand joined him and they worked together. Gasping and crying until they were screaming.
The orgasm rocked Harry to the core. It felt like his soul was draining away in the water and as Draco collapsed against his chest, Harry knew that it had. It had left him to reside inside Draco. Limp, shaky arms came up to hold Draco in place.
"Love you," he whispered, tears on his cheeks. Forever, he left unsaid. More than anything. I'll always love you. No matter what.
A soft, half smile tugged on the Draco's mouth, almost as if he could hear every single one of Harry's unsaid words. He traced Harry's bruised-red lips with his lips, clear admiration and determination filling his eyes.
"I'll make it right." he murmured, pecking Harry's forehead, allowing his lips to linger. Cradling Harry, as if it was his life mission to protect him.
Harry opened his mouth, but his mind was too relaxed to think of the words. Not that it mattered anyway. Draco's easy smile grew softer, more honeyed as he kissed him again on the forehead and slowly lowered his lips.
"I'll make it right," Draco whispered against his lips before he kissed him sloppily, the kisses lazy but soft, and Harry let himself drift along like a discarded leave in a river. Let everything float along easily in the stream of the water, in the protective embrace, in the sweet kisses that put everything on mute.
~...~
Surprisingly enough, it wasn't a nightmare that woke Harry up, but the numbness of his right arm being twisted in a position that made it feel like a pretzel. Groaning, Harry turned over to the other side and shifted closer to his life-size human pillow, his hands reaching out to Draco, needing him closer.
Only his hand didn't reach anything.
One eye cracked sleepily opened, Harry attempted again, reaching further, directing his body more towards the left. But reaching nothing. Alarm cutting through his sleepy haze, Harry cracked both eyes opened, stunned to find the bed empty.
"Draco?"
Silence greeted him in reply.
"Draco?" Harry slowly sat up in the bed, peeling himself from the duvet cocoon that was starting to feel more like a straight-jacket.
Silence again, this time answering with a slight chill that slowly filled the room, rising the hairs on Harry's neck.
When the last of the blankets was pulled off, Harry quickly got on his feet. Draco wasn't in the bathroom. It was only two in the morning, so he doubted Draco was getting ready for classes. Also, at this late hour, he doubted in a friend's dorm. So where-
"I'll make it right." Draco had promised during and after their heated moment in the tub, those kisses and touches practically drugging Harry's mind until he was in a cloud of pure, calming bliss. And right again before they went to bed, with Draco sending Harry off to sleep with gentle strokes of his hair.
Make it right? Harry frowned in confusion. What make right? There was nothing Draco had to make right. Unless…
The answer dawned on Harry like a bucket of ice water, chilling him from the inside out.
"No."
Let's take the moment to see the chapter number. 49. We've reached 49 of the story. And once again, I am stunned by the number. Just...my baby is grown and soon it will be hit the 50 mark. And years back, when I first started this, I thought, okay 20 chapters most. 20 chapters most, my ass. At this point...I will say we are getting to the halfway point...somewhat. But we still got tons of chapters.
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, especially the Snape conversation. I really, really wanted it to be original and not just a copy and paste of the book. I also tried to be realistic with the number and fill in as many holes and such regarding the explanation. Note, there is still more that Snape didn't tell Harry, which will also soon come up in future chapters. Especially in their lessons. But I hope you still loved it.
I am working on chapter 50 as we speak, although I did hit...one too many writer's blocks with this one. I want it to be GOOD. And work tends to drain me, so the next chapter will take awhile, but I hope I make it worth the wait as I did with this one