Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.
Warning: This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.
Summary: When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.
Note: Ok, here comes a little of slash. ^^
Emeralden Rapley: Um… you came near to guess the truth, but no the dementor Lord is not Godric griffindor. XD Pansy, yea, is with them in Azkaban, but… I will reveal nothing; you will have to read to know. XD Thank´s for your reviews. ^^
Yaoifanfake: It will be Blaise/ Hermione, sorry but I really, really hate Ron XD. Thank´s for your review ^^
Rosalind: No! Poor Zabini, don´t be so cruel. XD Even so, very much thanks for your review.
See you all in future reviews, I hope. Bye ;)
Dementor Kiss
Chapter 9-Cobweb
-"What's that?" - There was a golden drop on the marblish skin, like a fine ornament. It seemed a trickle of blood was flowing from it. "A piercing?" He didn´t know Dementors may be interested in these things. But it seemed that torture should have reopened the wound of the ornament. "I better take it out." Very gently, tugged at it.
A needle, a needle long as his hand, bathed in blood, glistening under the candlelight.
A small masterpiece of torture.
He was dozing lightly, aware of nothing but the pleasant warmth of the blankets. Even if he couldn´t remember why it felt, like he shouldn´t be feeling this well. That he should wake up. Like a nagging whisper in his head.
For a while he tried to ignore it. But the feeling became more urgent, until he finally had no choice but to pay attention.
With a sigh of resignation, Draco opened his eyes. And blinked a few times to clear his view.
"Old clunkers?" The room he was in, seemed full of old furniture haphazardly stacked.
"It looks like I´m in a storage room, but it´s clean at least."
He frowned. The sense of urgency piercing his conscious mind. His awareness seemed so cloudy... Why it felt like he was forgetting something? The old slytherin closed his eyes exhausted.
"Something ..."
And he remembered.
Azkaban..., the Dementor Lord, Potter...
Abruptly he was up. Looking in all directions, tense and alert, waiting to see the monster appear one way or the other, it hardly mattered.
After several minutes with no sign of his presence, the nervousness wrecking his body began to calm down.
"He's not here." - Sighed with relief. And that's when he noticed another thing that had gone unnoticed in the confusion of the moment.
"I feel no pain..."
After the agony in which he had been submerged the last days, of the torture, needles, fever, pain, nausea ... it was like nothing of it had happened. He looked at himself.
His tunic was, thanks to Merlin, still white. Somewhat ragged, but at least it showed no tears or stains.
He rolled up his sleeve.
Still just as skinny and sickly pale, his skin was still crossed by scars, but there were no open festering wounds. Some of the marks were pink, the ones which were more recent, showing their fresh healing. But there was no pain, just a slight discomfort when he tried to flex his arm.
"The needles are not ... The Dementor Lord?"
"Only someone of my race could remove them."
Draco recalled his macabre laughter, almost sensual in the way he had enjoyed his cries. No, that sadistic monster would not have released him. That, he knew for sure.
"But then, who?" It must have been someone of his lineage.
Do any of the other dementors, perhaps, be part of his family? But he knew none of them would have helped against the orders of the dark lord. Then, who? And where was he?
He got out of bed.
After some time searching the room, the only thing out of place he found, was a medical kit, a basin, and some gauze.
"The kit looks too professional..."
The creaking of the door behind him…
Draco straightened.
Steps.
He panted.
He could feel a presence stood behind him.
Looked over his shoulder...
"Potter!"- The thought word nearly leaving his lips.
Harry smiled reassuringly:
"Feeling better?"
Draco finally turned to him. Not knowing what to say. He hadn´t expected him to be his savior. But who else could it be? Who in this damn place had a hero complex? Thought jokingly, although the usual harsh tone was absent from the words.
Potter was staring at him, waiting patiently for his answer. Seeing finally, that, for a moment, his mind has been lost in thought, Draco shook himself inwardly for his carelessness, and finally nodded.
"I'm fine."
The Auror smiled, wide and relieved.
"I'm glad."
His smile was warm and pleasant ... it brightened his face in a way that Draco had not contemplated before. Something fluttered in his stomach…and made him start pacing the room, pretending to observe the environment.
"Why have you helped me?" - Asked almost in a whisper, without turning to face the dark haired man. For a moment there was silence, as if Harry were debating the answer. Until finally…
"No one should suffer so." - Answered softly. He had almost responded something else, a response that still tingled his lips. "Because I could not bear to see you so."
"Yeah ... but… you didn´t came as promised." – Couldn´t let the bits of blame out of the statement. He knew Potter was his only chance to break the curse, and should try to earn his good will. And throwing accusations at his face didn´t seem a good way to get it. But damn it! He had felt so bad when he didn´t appear... He wanted to cause the auror at least a portion of his own pain.
"I'm sorry." -The voice so contrite... Draco felt Harry moving a few steps until he was at his back, so near he could feel his heat. It was so appealing... he wanted to be enveloped by that warmth again. Feel protected and safe. But…
"Why didn´t you come?" – He didn´t dare look, because if he did, he would fall in his arms again, and his pride wasn´t letting him forgive Potter yet.
"You didn´t know, but I'm here with some friends on a mission. One prisoner has escaped and is loose in Azkaban, and he has even freed another dangerous prisoner."
"Another prisoner?"- The question came at Draco's mind.
"Who?" - Asked in a monotone.
"Fenrrir Greyback. But don´t worry, it's fixed. He attacked a friend of mine, and there was an accident that ended with his death. Because of that, we weren´t able to interrogate him about where´s Malfoy, the prisoner we're here for."
Draco swallowed. "That bastard has freed Fenrrir and blamed me? But why? What can he gain from that? One moment… His partner... Granger?" If his partner was Granger then the pig had it difficult, she was smart enough to figure out what was happening. "That means he needs to get rid of her soon. That´s why, Fenrrir was unleashed."
"Is she all right?"
"Hermione´s good, just suffered a bit of a scare."
The white nodded.
"I'm glad." - "I´m glad Smarty is alive. Hopefully, she will catch that son of a bitch, and make him pay for what was done to me."
Hands on his shoulders startled him.
"What I meant. Is that, that´s why I didn´t came as promised. For the mission. If we don´t stop him as soon as possible, he could release more prisoners and cause a riot."
"Yeah right, because I have nothing better to do. How about getting free from this curse?!" But he didn´t say a thing, just swallowed hard and nodded.
"I understand." - The warmth of those hands began to mess with his head. Then he remembered vaguely. The warm feeling he had when he was consumed by fever. Kind hands easing the pain... and realized… "They were his hands."
"I'm glad you understand. But if I had known what was happening, I wouldn´t have broken my promise, I never wanted to get you wounded." –"And I won´t let it happen again." A silent promise. He turned the white gently in his arms, so he had him face to face. –"If you let me help, I would do anything to stop the one who did this."
"He means it. He really wants to help me." - Draco could see it in the intensity of his gaze, the firm curve of his jaw, the tension in his body as if ready to protect him. He didn´t know how to feel.
"Who did you that?" - Asked Potter. Gently taking him by the chin, lifting his face even if he could not see under the shadows of the hood, but he wanted to feel, that at least, he was being looked at.
Draco fought the sobs that threatened to escape his throat swallowing with all his pride. "Do not cry again in front of Potter. Do not." He looked up. Harry's eyes were of a green so intense that one could not but be swayed by them.
"The Dementor Lord." -just barely a whisper, but it was enough.
Harry held the curse he would have wanted to shout.
Against the Dementor Lord there was not much he could do. He was the leader of the Dementors and who kept them under control. If he did something to him, not only would he receive a reprimand from Kingsley, but probably end up being judged, or something like that.
He was almost certain that to touch the link that kept the creatures under the governor of the ministry, would be considered a crime. And he would send to hell those bureaucrats, if not for the consequences, of what would happen if those things got out of control ... He knew, quite well, what they were capable of. He couldn´t risk letting them loose in the world, spreading terror in their wake, devouring souls of innocent people. He might as well let Malfoy release more prisoners. Hermione had done a good job in reminding him of the safety of people out of Azkaban.
He kept his eyes firm. What else could he do?
"I can´t go against him."
Draco sighed. He should have known that he was doomed. Wanted so bad to scream, but managed to hold back and retreat a few steps. Needed to breathe, calm down ... or he didn´t know what would he do.
The voice of the Auror took a moment to penetrate his terror filled brain.
"There are other ways. I can talk to the minister of magic. Surely he can send you to other site, some other place away from Azkaban. A place where he couldn´t hurt you."
The white pulled away, taut as a bowstring.
"Where are they going to send a dementor that isn´t worth to patrol Azkaban? That's all we serve for." - Just hissed self contemptuously. Shielding his pain behind the anger.
Harry just could not listen to it.
"Then come with me. I have a big house with some hectares of forest, and strong magic barriers. You'd be safe." - Said vehemently. The note of self-loathing in the white's words had bothered him more than he could ever admit.
"You'd take me out of Azkaban?" - "Out of the hell I live in?" His tone so soft and unbelieving ... Draco felt his heart racing.
Potter came to him.
"Yes." - Such confidence in that one word...
"... Thanks. – Draco felt his voice breaking. - I ... Merlin ... I'm pathetic." - Tears were rolling down his cheeks without his consent. But he couldn't seem to hold them inside.
Harry hugged him gently, gently, offering support without asking anything in return. Draco took it. His head falling on the aurors chest.
He had missed him, he had missed this. So the blond man inhaled the aurors scent, sinking his nose on the red coat. It was so reassuring… "As sun and nutmeg, soap, sweat ... Harry"
For a while they were still, neither wanting to break the moment, until finally, curiosity made him ask.
"Who removed the needles?"
"I." - Answered Potter calmly.
"WHAT?"
She closed the book titled; "Mysteries of dark creatures."
A week had passed since Fenrrir tried to kill her, a week filled by various sources of frustration. Ron hadn´t got anything out of all the elves. They refused to talk.
The guards weren´t still offering any clues.
It seemed the earth had swallowed Malfoy.
Harry did nothing but disappear as soon as she was distracted.
And she couldn´t discover anything about the blood spell used in Zabini, or where the bloody Dementors came from.
She was just in the guard room surrounded by stacks of books about blood magic and dark creatures, and none appeared to contain the answers she needed.
She took the next. A worn book belonging to the restricted section, which MacGonnagal had finally consented to send, only after she argued their need for it.
"Nox Criature."
The yellowed crackled parchment sheets, where written in Latin and the handwriting looked quite worn, very old. Hermione prepared for the arduous task of translating it.
It had taken a couple of hours, but finally looked like she had found the information she was looking for. Or at least, part of it:
"Dementors: Perhaps whatever these terrible creatures are to be present in this volume, it's debatable. For we all known that their existence is not natural and therefore, questionable whether his nature is one of obscure creature, or of created creature. But since it is undeniable that they are alive, and are dark, we will treat them as simple dark creatures, and explain to those unfamiliar with them how they are birth.
She turned the page...
"The pages are plucked!" – Hermione looked at the place where they should have been, and where it was clear that the volume had been torn. Such lack of information, gaps in the texts, and now this.
"Someone has taken to conceal information about the dementors."
And it must have been long ago, judging by the yellowed edge of the rips. The history books, encyclopaedias... they had gone to great lengths to hide the information.
"Why?"
She felt her curiosity awaken.
And she always grew with challenges.
Draco was... surprised was a very light way to put it. Potter was of the Lord dementors lineage! Or at least of the same lineage.
"Well, they are of the same family. Surely Potter descends from a brother or uncle or something, of the Dementor Lord. So, what? It doesn´t have to matter to me. Does it?"
What mattered to him, the possible family ties between them?
"I should be happy for the luck I've had, and not give it more weight than it has." He nodded to himself. Yes, that would be best. He couldn´t imagine any possible relationship between the knucklehead kind Auror, and the sadistic monster boss of the tower. So better not think about it.
Harry had noticed the sudden rigidity of the small dementor when he said that he was the one who had removed the needles, but decided not to comment on it. At the end of the day, he didn´t know what he had gone through, and didn´t want to ask questions that could hurt him.
Both stared awkwardly, neither knowing what to say...
"Grrrrr!" - Draco turned completely red and put a hand to his stomach.
Harry couldn´t help it.
Suddenly, Potter's merry laughter filled the room.
"Ha, ha. What's so funny? I have been days without eating, is a perfectly normal reaction." - Malfoy crossed his arms indignantly.
"I….Sorry"- Harry said, trying not to laugh. His reaction had been so funny...
Draco snorted. "Commoners."
"Okay, okay, I will stop laughing." - But a smile was still dancing on his lips. –"I have better put some solution to that hunger, before the roaring monster decides to eat me."
The joke made Draco blush even more, who made a sound of disgust. But before he could answer Potter was already talking.
"Fancy some porridge? There´s still quite a bit left from breakfast..." – And stopped in midsentence, getting suddenly serious, recalling a detail. "He's a dementor, they don´t eat food." He looked at the white, feebly. – "Although if you prefer some memory, I..."
"The porridge it´s well enough!" – Draco replied sharply.
Harry looked at the little dementor, perplexed. The white cleared his throat timidly.
"What I mean, is that the porridge is good for me. It´s okay if I also asked for a glass of water?"
Potter grinned, eyes sparkling. Draco knew he had said the right thing.
"Of course. No problem." - Harry didn´t even think why a dementor would eat food, instead of memories.
The bowl of porridge had been thoroughly cleaned of food, and now rested on the floor at Draco's foot. Both of them were sitting in the makeshift mountain of pallets, in the absence of a better seat.
Draco felt full and relaxed. However inside himself remained a slight feeling of hunger, as if he really didn´t need to eat more, but felt like taking dessert. And he knew why it was he was feeling that way. "The curse goes on ..." Clenched his fists frustrated.
"... Name?"
"E?" - He hadn´t been paying attention to Potter, and smiled kindly, to cover it.
"I was asking about your name. You still haven´t told me how to call you."
"Damn, what can I say? Come on Draco, think."
"I don´t think you could pronounce my name. Our language is not prepared for your throat." - "Good response" Congratulated himself for his cunning.
"But I have to call you somehow." – Potter insisted awkwardly, like a teenager asking for the name of the girl he likes. Strangely Draco found himself thinking of it as something adorable, instead of stupid. He shook himself mentally.
"Give me a name." – He suggested. "That´s it, spare me the job."
"Really? Wouldn´t you rather choose?"
"It's okay if you do it for me. You will be the one to use it, after all." - Finally Harry nodded, but did not seem entirely convinced.
"Maybe ... Viely. - Just said blushing slightly. - Means white, not very original, I kno..."
"I like it." - Draco interrupted him. It was strange, but even a terribly obvious and boring name as it was, Viely sounded good. And for some reason, it being chosen by Potter and no other, made it really beautiful.
"Do you ... like it?" - Harry felt a smile threatened to stretch the corners of his lips.
"Yes, sounds good." -Shrugged, trying to downplay his feelings.
The Auror smiled so brightly that the image was recorded in Dracos mind as a memory that would always accompany him.
"Viely then."
The name on his lips sounded like a sweet smoke, of which Draco knew, he could become intoxicated.
"You haven´t told me your name." - Barely whispered, breathlessly.
"Oh, I'm sorry. - ruffled his hair nervously- my name is Harry."
"As if I could forget it"
"Thanks for…-"Saving me? Giving me a name? For being be so warm and friendly, and for your smile, and ..." - for everything. Thanks for everything, Harry." - The seriousness in his voice had a soft sediment. Something the Auror read and drank like a dry plant.
"It´s nothing... Viely."
His steps were soft on the stone, without disturbing the dust, step down step until his feet began to sink in standing water. Until his tunic was soaked, and the slippery substance reached his knees. Going through it, by corridors silent as tombs, skimming scum-covered walls, to finally stop at a sad cold cell.
Inside, a single figure lay on a filthy mattress, just above water level.
His hair was as black as the hour before dawn, his skin was no longer gilded by the sun's caress. He had been present when it ceased to be, moving to a pale white like the belly of a worm. And he never forgave himself for failing to prevent it. He had failed his best friend when he needed him most, and although Blaise had never blamed him for what happened, he never could help feeling that he could have done more.
He removed his hood.
And put his palms on the bars:
"Blaise."
His voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to shake the dark lashes as strips of silk. The vampire opened his eyes. Dull hungry red, barely contained, surrounded by deep purple circles.
"Draco." – He whispered. Blaise rose wearily to approach his friend. Even with bars separating them, the vampire stretched out his arms through them to embrace him. They hugged each other through the metal, both seeking the comfort of the other in this nightmare that was Azkaban.
"Sorry I couldn´t come sooner." - Draco's words were muffled by his lips being posed in Blaises hair, where they had gone to rest in their embrace.
"It's okay, but I was worried. I thought that the monster could have made you something." - The temblor of his best friend, didn´t go unnoticed. – "Draco?"-
"It´s nothing." - Barely whispered.
"No shit! What has he done?" – And separated from him slightly to see his face. The sad eyes away from his… In that instant, he wanted to be free, just to embed his claws inside the Dementor Lord's chest, through his ribs and around the heart, squeezing slowly to observe, peacefully, as life was extinguished from his eyes. Even if he knew something like that wouldn´t kill him. But it would be very satisfying.
"Draco?"
"Can we, please, leave it? I don´t want to talk about it." – Blaise thought for a moment in insisting, but finally he closed his mouth, because he could see clearly the pain his friend was in.
"Potter helped you?"
Draco nodded.
"He's being good with me. Although I don´t know yet how to make him help breaking this curse." - Blaise smiled, the smile wrinkles caused the spider lines to flatten in his tired skin, making him seem more vital than he actually was.
"Don´t worry. I have convinced Granger to do it." - Draco's eyes widened as an owls.
"How…?"
Blaise told the story of Fenrrir´s attack and how he saved the Auror.
Draco listened… and hugged him far more tightly. Tears threatened to slide down the curve of his cheek. But even if they did not fall, the vampire could smell the salt in them.
"Draco?"
"Do not foolishly put yourself in danger!" - Hissed breathlessly.
"... "– Balise understood the feelings of his friend, he felt the same. They were all that was left in their world, they two and Pansy. All three were more than friends, were the family and the support of the others. What if any of them got hurt? It was a thought so horrible he couldn´t even take having it inside his head.
"Sorry." - Whispered, stroking Dracos back.
For a few minutes they continued to embrace, until Draco calmed down enough that his rational mind returned to operation. They separated, but neither really wanted to.
"You are hungry, and I have to return before Potter notes I left." - Had taken advantage of Harry sleeping and eating breakfast with his peers in the guardroom, to go down and see Blaise before anyone saw him. He hoped at this time the Dementors will be in the tower.
"Draco, you don´t need to do it. You aren´t fine." - But Draco could see the need in the wrinkled skin of his friend, and the red of his hungry eyes, and he could not go, knowing he could do something to help.
"I want to. Blaise, you need it, and I will not let you starve if I can help it". - The vampire hesitated. He was so hungry...
"Come on." – And extended his wrist between the bars, offering the pale, naked skin.
Blaise wanted to resist, he really wanted to. But he was so thirsty, couldn´t contain it anymore, and all he could do, was try to be as gentle as possible, when he took the thin arm between his hands. Bent his head, touching the thin skin with his lips in an almost apologetic kiss.
He could feel the pulse and the flow of blood under his lips, smell Draco. Vanilla, nutmeg, sweat, and that indefinable something that was only him. He didn´t know how, even after seven years after, he could still perceive fragrance of vanilla and nutmeg in his skin, and thought that, maybe, those smells simply were part of what was Draco.
Carefully, parted his lips and let his fangs elongate by the hunger, little points as pins that pierced the skin without trouble. Blaise licked the first drops of blood, and it was like he couldn´t stop, started drinking with passion, like a madman.
The blood of his best friend was dark and warm, like a drink that had been left cool the warmth of life had already begun to leave, but still retained enough to heat his icy stomach. It was sweet and sticky like melted caramel and ripe strawberries, gently spiced. And had a core, an exotic background, that only a discerning palate, as the vampire's, would appreciate; The essence of a pure blood.
Draco felt his breath become deeper and his pulse quicken. The point where Blaises fangs had pierced the skin seemed so hot that he thought he would be burnt. The warmth began to spread to the rest of his body, weakening his legs, so his body had to slip against the bars, and he ended sitting on the floor with his forehead against the cold metal. Between his thighs the flutter of butterflies began to awaken his member. His breath came in short little bursts of air.
Blaise began to feel intoxicated by the blood, the smell of Draco and the sensual rhythm of his heartbeat. He could hear his breathing becoming deeper, as his blood ran faster and faster, until the roar was like a song as sexy as destructive. He wanted to drown in it and drink all that was Draco, eat him, own him.
His own member stood up in response to his desires.
Sweat began to slide down Dracos neck, as the pale wet hair stuck to its forehead and cheeks, like a caress. Blaise's lips on his wrist had become a point of stimulus so powerful that his body shook. His cock was so swollen ... and felt so wet ... his free hand slid up to it. He began to feel somewhat dizzy, almost drunk with pleasure. Stroked gently, without really noticing the gesture, without really thinking. The delicate touch tore a trembling moan from his throat, and the sound tore a twin one from the vampire.
Blaise didn´t know where he began and ended Draco. He was so full of his essence… could feel it run through his own veins. Dracos moan was so delicate that made his desire flame, desire to re-listen it. He wanted to take him in his arms. To possess him. He drank more frenzied, with abandoned passion. Draco's moans as a melody of pleasure, one after another, each one more subtle and muted than the last. Inflaming his desire, causing a vigorous throb between his thighs.
Draco's body would have slipped loose until he plunged into the icy water, but one of the vampire's arms had wound around his waist and held him upright when nothing else did. He trembled, and was covered in sweat, and his hips moved very slightly, undulating movements of pleasure. But his hand had fallen loose, too exhausted to move. Was frozen and yet seemed to be burning, and was so tired he could only go with the increasingly fierce wave of pleasure, that was swirling in his stomach.
The ecstasy was so close ... Blaise opened his eyes for a moment. The groans of Draco had gone in to the soft whisper of his choked breath. And then he saw his friend in the edge of death… for his sake. His parted lips were blue and shiny wet with saliva. His skin pale moon, hair slicked with sweat. Gently shaking in the grip of a killing passion.
He was so beautiful…
Blaise parted his lips from the wrist, and his body exploded with ecstasy. The intensity of the movement of his fangs, retracting from the skin, took Draco to orgasm at the same time. It was like a wave that engulfed them both, and made them feel loved and away from hell for one bright moment.
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