DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.

Warning: a little HD action ahead

Chapter Twelve - A Demon's Kiss

Harry drew Draco down toward him, his emerald eyes drifting closed as his hand slid from the blond's chin to the nape of his neck. He pressed their lips together lightly, keeping the kiss chaste as he awaited Draco's response. When the blond let out a muffled whimper, he smirked internally and slid his fingers upward, entangling them in the silky locks. His tongue ran along the wizard's bottom lip playfully, teasingly.

And suddenly, there was nothing but them. The mingling of their breath. The touch of their chests. They were all that mattered. All that existed.

In a gasp, Draco opened his mouth, allowing Harry's tongue to plunge inside. His hands slid into the dark-haired wizard's locks, fingers curling tightly around the bloody strands. Coyly, he brushed his tongue against Harry's, inviting him deeper. As their tongues dueled for dominance, their hands tugged and clutched, massaged and worshiped. Finally, in need of air, he pulled away from the other wizard. He stared into shimmering emeralds while he gasped for breath, running his tongue over his lips. A gentle tug had him sinking back down, pressing his lips urgently to Harry's.

Trying to concentrate while kissing Draco was proving difficult. Nibbling on the blond's lower lip, Harry gathered the tattered remains of his aura. His magic had been shredded by Voldemort's; the force of the raw power tearing its way through his body and core. In order to make the necessary repairs to himself, he had to do exactly what he had told Sirius not to do. He had to feed off of Draco's magic.

Draco mumbled softly as Harry's lips left his, slipping down his chin in a liquid slide of tongue. Panted gasps against his throat had him tipping his head, exposing the elegant line of his neck. His fingers clenched in the raven locks he held, blue eyes widening as Harry swirled his tongue over the junction of his throat. He was unprepared for the sudden stab of teeth against his skin, the rough love bite drawing a moan from deep within him. His body tightened as pleasure surged through him, the powerful wave closing his eyes and wringing a soft cry from his bruised lips.

Ignoring the pain the blond's wriggling was causing, Harry ran his tongue lightly over the needle fine pricks he'd placed on the wizard's throat. When Draco cried out again and shuddered, he struck. As he laved blood from the blond's throat, his aura twisted and twined around the Slytherin's writhing body, feeding off the surge in his magic. In a shimmer of power, their auras merged; Harry's shoring itself up with blond's fluctuating energy.

With a soft sigh, Draco slumped against him, his body going limp. His arms tightened reflexively, sliding down the wizard's back to clasp him closely. Lifting his mouth, he inhaled hungrily and closed his eyes. Around him, his aura flared and danced, the tears and gashes no longer visible. He reeled his magic in tiredly, pushing it back into its place within his chest. A distraught cry was the last thing he heard as darkness rose up and consumed him.

XxXxX

Harry's eyes flew open and he snarled. Before he could sit up, a restraining hand was placed on his chest, pinning him to the bed. He allowed himself to be held down, his emerald orbs blazing unhappily as he glared up at the mediwitch who had treated him before. A rustle of cloth turned his head, his gaze landing on a thoughtful looking Dumbledore. As the witch removed her hand and dragged the scratchy hospital blankets up to his chin, he eyed the wizard, hands fisting beneath the linen. Physically, he felt fine. His magic was still weaker then it should have been, but that would change in time.

"Your magic stores have been greatly depleted, Harry. I have no idea as to what you and Mister Malfoy were doing before you were found, but I suggest you refrain from doing it again." Madame Pomfrey instructed before giving a sharp nod to Dumbledore and stalking off.

"Why don't you tell me, Harry, exactly what you and Mister Malfoy were doing," Albus Dumbledore said softly, the angry glint in his eyes belying his calm tone. He moved closer to the brass bed, his wand appearing subtly in his hand.

Eyeing the wand, Harry sat up slowly and rolled his shoulders. He did a quick inventory of his battle wounds, testing the flex and pull of his muscles. When he was sure his movements wouldn't be hampered, he relaxed back against the pillows. "No," he said simply. A small inhalation was all he needed to smell the wizard's mounting anger.

"You endangered the life of one of my students, again. I believe that gives me every right to know what you did to Mister Malfoy." Albus rasped, the tip of his wand beginning to glow a threatening shade of red.

Harry couldn't help the smirk that slid across his face. "What I did was completely consensual. A little pleasure for a little magic. A perfectly fair trade in my opinion. Of course-"

"Enough!" Dumbledore barked, his raised voice causing the mediwitch to whirl around and glare angrily at them. Drawing a calming breath, he stared at the demon sitting before him, his blue eyes blazing. "I've had enough of your presence within my castle. At every turn you've ignored the rules we agreed upon. You're completely reckless! Give me one reason why I shouldn't send you straight back into the depths of Hell." He was panting when he finished, his face flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet.

Stilling at the threat, the Retriever carefully began to consider his options. He could lie, which was always the easiest solution, or he could tell the truth. Licking his lips, he peered around the room, taking in the beds filled with injured witches and wizards. If there was one thing that would get the old wizard off his back, it was the name of the demon he was hunting. So, the truth it was. "Voldemort," Harry breathed loudly, his eyebrows arching.

"What about him?" Albus questioned, taking a step away from the bed as the dark-haired male shifted. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, fingers tightening on his worn wand.

Smiling victoriously, Harry sank deeper into his pillows. He sighed dreamily, replaying the moment when he had plunged his sword into Voldemort's chest. The lovely thought was ruined only by the fact that he'd allowed the High Court demon the upper hand and had taken a grimoire to the side of the head for it. "Today, I pushed my sword through his chest. I almost had his black heart spit upon my blade."

"You're here for Voldemort? Voldemort is the demon you're pursuing?" The old wizard asked in shock. He blinked slowly, extending a hand to grasp the brass footboard of Harry's bed.

"Strange coincidence, isn't it?" Harry mused, pulling his left hand from under the blankets. He examined his nails while he waited for the stunned mortal to recover, smiling at the line of dried blood under his thumbnail. Lifting his hand, he slid the finger into his mouth, sucking at the blood lazily. Withdrawing the digit, he looked at Dumbledore. "You do understand, don't you, that sending me home will doom your entire planet? None of your magics can compete with a High Court demons. He'll toy with you simply for his amusement before killing you. Your students will be enslaved, your castle raped of its magics, your plane will be completely and utterly destroyed. And all because you sent your last hope to Hell."

Turning glazed eyes upon the young demon, Dumbledore nodded slowly. "You may stay," he mumbled, pushing himself away from bed. In a daze, he plodded from the room, ignoring Madame Pomfrey's concerned call.

Slumping back against his pillows, Harry watched as Dumbledore walked from the room. No sooner had the doors closed behind the wizard than Sirius appeared at his side, lips compressed worriedly. Narrowing his eyes, the raven-haired demon glared angrily at his companion, his nails creating small furrows in the hospital linens. He breathed in slowly, trying to leash his anger lest he strike out at the minor demon. "Where were you?" His snarled question caused Sirius to flinch and back nervously away from the bed.

"With Severus Snape, exactly where you ordered me to be," the minor demon retorted bravely. He chuckled weakly at the low growl that trickled from Harry's mouth, lifting his hands before him in a calming gesture. "I was merely following your orders. And once the battle started, I couldn't help but stay with him. He's very skilled with dark magic. Why, he even stunned another Death Eater in the back while rushing to rescue some little witch. You know what? That wizard would make a wonderful demon. He's creepy and dark and maybe even a little eccentric. Suppose, you ask Hades if-"

"Absolutely not," Harry snapped. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes, a frown sliding across his face. A shiver slid down his spine at the mere thought of asking Hades for a favour. The last demon who'd had the balls to ask the God of Death for anything had taken up residence in the throne room . . . as a footstool. He could only begin to imagine the inane tasks the God would come up with for him to complete if he asked for another gopher. "Besides, he's alive. Now, pay attention, I have a task for you."

"But I was alive," Sirius whined.

"Yes, but then you died. Now, I need you to-"

Snorting, Sirius rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Like you didn't have anything to do with my untimely demise." Shooting the Retriever a knowing look, the minor demon wandered slowly around the narrow brass bed, fingers trailing across the footboard.

"That's murder. And beneath me." Harry stated, unfolding his arms and letting them drop to the sheet lying over him. He slid further down in the bed, eyelashes dipping to shield gleaming emeralds.

"You're a demon," Sirius muttered, "you have no morals." He continued to circle the bed absently, his eyes widening with interest as he noticed a folded piece of paper resting on the small metal table next to the bed. Curiousity drew him forward, his chin lifting slightly as he tried to read the neat scribbles upon the parchment.

Harry sat perfectly still, waiting for Sirius to wander within striking distance. He let out a soft breath as the minor demon reached for the abandoned piece of parchment, his fingers flexing eagerly. In an explosion of movement, he lunged. His fingers slid around Sirius' throat and locked, preventing him from pulling away. "If you don't shut up and pay attention, I will kill you," he promised in a hiss. Tightening his grip on the lesser demon's throat, he tugged him closer, watching Sirius' eyes widen. "Voldemort has my sword. I want it back. You are to go to his headquarters and retrieve it. Did you get all that?"

Sirius nodded slowly, his face inches away from Harry's. He gulped audibly at the menacing grin that crept over the Retriever's features; the look making the hair on his arms rise. As soon as he nodded, the dark-haired demon released him, shoving him roughly away. His hands rose accordingly to rub his sore throat, fingers brushing over the bruised skin. "I don't suppose you'd settle for a different sword?"

"That blade is perfectly balanced and was forged specifically for me. Go and get it." Harry rumbled, his patience coming to an end. The minor demon must have realized he'd pressed the Retriever beyond his limits because he vanished quickly, leaving Harry grasping wildly at empty air. Sitting back with a disgruntled huff, he folded his arms and peered around the brightly lit chamber. Many of the beds were currently occupied by slumbering witches and wizards; the casualties of the Hogsmeade attack. His argument with Sirius had disturbed none of them, a fact that had him sighing in relief.

A door at the far end of the room swung open and Draco appeared, followed closely by Madame Pomfrey. The witch ushered the blond toward his bed, doing a quick visual scan of the room as she mumbled under her breath. She frowned when she saw Harry propped up on his pillows, her lips compressing unhappily. "Both of you need to learn how to stay out of trouble." Shaking her head, she waited impatiently for Draco to climb into his bed before yanking the covers over his pajama clad legs. "After you've had something sweet to eat, I'll release the pair of you. Until then, stay in your beds. And no talking."

Rolling his eyes, Harry slipped back down in his bed and began to contemplate everything that had happened. Albus Dumbledore now knew whom he was searching for. This would either aid him in his hunt or bring it to an abrupt end. The missing grimoire also disturbed him. In the wrong hands, Voldemort's for example, the ancient tome could be extremely dangerous. Not only could it banish demons, but it could also summon them. Just thinking of the army the High Court demon could create sent a shiver of fear sliding down his spine. Glancing toward the floor, he prayed Hades was keeping an eye on his demons.

XxXxX

Sirius tiptoed down a dark corridor, his shoulders hunched and his eyes wide. He moved furtively through the shadows, glancing into the rooms he passed in search of Harry's missing sword. Any other demon would have shrugged the loss off and gotten a new weapon, but not Harry. "Not Harry," he mused softly. No, Harry had to have his sword. The one forged specifically for him. The one that was perfectly balanced and lovingly maintained. "Stupid sword."

A whiff of blood had him arching an eyebrow in interest. He followed the smell, having to work five times harder than any Retriever to stay on the scent. His nose led him to a closed door. Glancing back and forth down the dark corridor, he shrugged and boldly swung the door open, stepping inside warily and peering nervously around. "Shit," he muttered, staring at the dead wizard lying in a small puddle of blood. Sliding along the wall, he examined the deceased mortal from a safe distance. His throat was torn and any magic he may have had was gone, torn ruthlessly from his body. Sirius grimaced and looked away, his eyes scanning the rest of the room. Chair, fireplace, bookcase, chair, tab-

And there, lying forgotten upon a table, sat Harry's beloved sword. The blade was covered in blood, the liquid sizzling and boiling upon the thick length of iron. Grinning triumphantly, he strode toward the weapon and extended a hand. His fingers had barely brushed the hilt when a shadow separated from the others. Jerking his digits back, he glared in horror at Voldemort.

"Your name?" The High Court demon demanded, ruby eyes locked on the trespasser.

"Ah, Sirius Black?" The minor demon whimpered, shooting a longing look at the sword. He cringed as the ancient demon glided toward him, dark robes flowing around his body. Sirius' eyes went immediately to the gaping hole in the fabric, the gash located almost directly above Voldemort's heart.

Voldemort snorted and shook his head. "Harry Potter's gopher? How amusing," the High Court demon mocked. Tipping his head, he eyed the lesser demon, a smirk forming upon his snake like features. "You know, you could join me. I'll make you my second in command. I'm going to rule the mortal plane, you see. Why should you, an intelligent demon, pander to the whims of a Retriever? They're turncoats. They don't even deserve to exist upon the same plane as the rest of us! Yes, you'll join me, and together, we'll take over the world!"

Oh Hades, he's really insane. There were rumours . . . but one should never really believe gossip. "Personally, I'd love to, but there's this thing I really have to do." Sirius stammered, eyes darting back and forth between the High Court demon and the iron sword.

"Perhaps I could sway you . . . Is there something you would like? A mortal slave? My favour?" Voldemort asked, red eyes sliding to the weapon that had almost killed him. He reached out slowly and rested his hand on the gold inlaid hilt, lifting the sword slowly from the table.

"I need to think on it!" Sirius shrilled, panic tinging his voice as he sprang backwards and vanished. His landing was rough and it took him a moment to get his bearings. He glanced around himself worriedly, relief seizing him when he saw Hogwarts glowing in the distance. Wrapping his arms around his waist, he began to trek toward the castle, silently wondering if he could send Harry's raven to Hell without him noticing. After all, it couldn't be that hard to find an iron sword that was perfectly balanced and had a gold inlaid hilt.

XxXxX

As soon as Harry entered the dungeons, he slowed. Something didn't feel right. He moved forward cautiously, allowing Draco to walk on ahead of him. Eyes narrowing, he swung his gaze back and forth, seeking among the shadows. He breathed in slowly, analyzing the various smells the air currents brought him. So many different scents, all of them layered and entwined, practically impossible to separate. Brow furrowing, he crept forward quietly.

Magic slid across his skin, the faint tingling bringing him to an abrupt stop. His aura flickered in response, the power unraveling from his core only to find itself fettered. With great trepidation, Harry slowly lowered his eyes and stared at the interlocking stones of the dungeon floor. He drew a deep breath as he narrowed his glowing orbs, curling a lip in anger at the familiar scent of Hermione Granger. An angered swipe of his hand destroyed the carefully placed charm, revealing the pentagram that had been drawn upon the ancient rock. Blazing emeralds leapt from the hastily sketched runes to the bold Latin, hands fisting as realization struck.

Demon Trap.

Dropping to his knees in disbelief, he extended a hand toward the magical dome that contained him. The hair along his arms rose at the first brush of his fingers, the feeling forcing him to withdraw his searching hand. Warily, he lowered his hand and stroked the dark stone beneath him, the tips of his digits millimeters away from the thick white line. Around him, his magic flared and swirled, seeking a means of escape. He frowned as he lifted his hand from the stone, staring at his reddened palm with fiery eyes. Liquid Iron and salt; a dangerous combination . . . to a demon. Someone had done their homework. Rising fluidly, he began to scan the shadows.

"Harry? Are you coming?" Draco demanded, turning around and lifting a hand imperiously. He frowned when the raven-haired male remained silent, beginning to tap one booted foot impatiently. "I don't have all night to stand around, Harry. Some of us still have to read chapter fourteen for history class on Monday." Arching a slender brow at the frustrated hiss that slipped from his companion's mouth, he sighed and started back to Harry's side.

"Stop, Malfoy." A voice commanded from the shadows. In a hiss of silk, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Neville Longbottom appeared in the corridor. All three clutched their wands, the shimmering tips pointed shakily at Harry.

Pale eyes widening in disbelief, Draco planted his hands on his hips and sneered. "Well, if it isn't the Golden Gryffindors. Got lost on the way back to your tower, I see. Personally, I'm not surprised. What with the fact that you follow a useless simpleton." Snorting in contempt, he glided closer to Harry, shooting the dark-haired wizard a worried glance.

"He's a demon, Malfoy, sent by Voldemort." Hermione stated, sliding her wand into her pocket. She swung her knapsack into her arms, fumbling with the clasp as she attempted to keep her gaze on Harry. With obvious effort, she yanked a thick tome from the bag's interior, lifting it so everyone could see the cover. Shooting an anxious glance at the blond Slytherin, she opened the book to a marked page and cleared her throat before beginning to read.

"And I'm Merlin," Draco snarled sarcastically. Giving a shake of his head, he drew his wand and advanced on the trio. "So, which one of you geniuses came up with this one? Come on, don't be ashamed. It was you, wasn't it, Weasel?" Clucking in disapproval, the blond flicked his wand, watching smugly as the two wizards jumped. A graceful wave of Harry's hand had him stilling, a frown sliding over his features as the other wizard turned glowing emeralds upon Granger.

"You're either very brave, or very stupid." Harry purred, fingers drifting to the silver band circling his wrist. The four remaining charms rattled against each other, catching the faint light of the torches placed sporadically on the dungeon walls. He shifted in the confines of the trap, eyes scanning the chalked lines for weakness or error. "Do you even understand the words you speak, witch?"

"Keep going, Hermione." Ron ordered, shifting the point of his wand to Draco. He licked his lips nervously, wide blue eyes darting back and forth between the pair of Slytherins.

"I suggest you stop, mudblood." Draco commanded. He shot a nervous glance at Harry, slightly perturbed as to why the dark-haired Slytherin hadn't reached for his wand or made any effort to move.

Face contorting in outrage, Ron let out an angered hiss and brandished his wand. "Don't call her that, Death Eater." He narrowed his blue eyes as the Slytherin prowled forward, sidling closer to Hermione in case the blond attempted anything.

Glaring angrily at the grimoire the witch held, Harry privately plotted the death of the demon ordered to destroy all the books. Inhaling deeply, he opened his mouth to issue an order only to have a groan slip past his lips. Pain flared suddenly, gnawing its way up his spine and forcing him to knees. Each word the witch spoke seemed like a dagger piercing his chest. The blood pumping through his veins boiled, bringing a sweat to his forehead as he gasped for air. His heart laboured, pathetically trying to maintain its frantic rhythm. A whimper spilled from his mouth as he raked his nails across the stone floor, leaving deep gouges in the ancient rock.

"Stop it!" Draco roared, lunging toward Granger. He made a wild grab for the thick tome she held, his attempt thwarted by the sudden appearance Longbottom in his path. Hand fisting, he plowed his knuckles into the Gryffindors face. Teeth grit, he raised his other hand. "Accio book!" He snarled, waving his wand.

In a swish of black robes, Severus Snape arrived, his wand held tightly as he tried to determine who he should yell at first. "What's going on here?" He snapped, obsidian orbs narrowing.

His appearance did nothing to deter Hermione from her mission. Curling her fingers around the book, she continued to read breathlessly. She struggled to hold the tome as Draco's magic wrapped itself around the grimoire, planting her feet and leaning backwards. Taking a much needed breath, she lifted her eyes and shouted the final two words.

"I demand someone tell me what's going on?" Snape bellowed, orbs widening as the Gryffindor witch released the book she clutched. The tome shot from her hands and slammed into his godson's chest, knocking the blond backwards into the wall. "Detention, Granger. Now-"

Throwing his head back, Harry screamed. His cry brought silence to the group, turning them all to where he sprawled gracelessly. Fire exploded suddenly within the circle, flames of red and orange that leapt to the dungeon ceiling. In seconds, it was over. The blaze faded, leaving nothing but a scorched spot upon the stone floor.

XxXxX

Sirius sank back into the shadows, his gray eyes wide in terror. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and shivered. Harry was gone. Blinking back tears, he lowered his gaze to the blackened stone. Nothing remained, not even a pile of ash. His sadness and fear were washed away on a wave of anger. Lips curling, he loosed a crazed snarl, taking pleasure in the way the group of mortals jumped in fright. Standing silently in the darkness, he watched as Severus Snape herded the four students toward the stairs at the far end of the hall. When they had gone, he slunk from the shadows.

"Harry," he whispered, circling the pentagram. Sinking to one knee, he reached toward the burned stone, his hand getting no further than the circle of Liquid Iron and salt. A smile curved his lips and he raised his eyes, the gray orbs shimmering maliciously. "I'll avenge you, my friend."

A/n: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review. And, no, it's not the end.

sbkar – Europe, eh? Only in my wildest dreams.
hieisdragoness – Sorry, this chapter made up for the cliffhanger, right?