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: I´m soooo evil. XD Comets would be appreciated ^^
Dementor Kiss
Chapter 16- Dusk
He looked at Harry, the blood from the wounds, the labored breathing ... Only one answer left in him.
The Dementor Lord reached out to help him up ... and Draco's pale fingers intertwined with his.
"I will go with you."
Behind them a dozen dementors came out of the shadows and waited for their master's orders.
Whispers.
Hurt all over.
What had he gotten himself in, this time? Harry had long since lost count of all the times he had ended waking worn-out, patched, and barely there, after a mission.
A groan left his lips when someone touched his shoulder. It hurt.
"Harry? Are you awake?" - Hermiones voice.
"Yes, yes. I´m awake." - And opened his eyes wearily, hoping to be back in the medical ward of the Auror department, but finding an unfamiliar room instead.
The bedroom looked like a chamber out of a magical mansion of some long gone era, morning light spilling through the windows and the very dark clouds, to cast the place in it´s sad gray pallor.
The only other illumination, came from a large pink granite hearth, and the nice fire crackling inside. Amber light spilling on a tea table surrounded by a sofa and a couple of armchairs, all of them in red velvet and soft golden embroidered cushions, made for a little secluded area.
There, alone, was Ron, sitting in the left chair, back to the window, head in hands, hiding his face.
Harry looked away, needing time to think, noticing for the very first time, the huge canopied bed he was lying on. Inwardly, he thanked the feather cushions on which Hermione had probably reclined him. Their gentle touch not as painful on his wounds as it could have been. Some faded red gold embroidered quilt covered everything else, feeling pleasantly warm, even with his racing heart.
Under it the only things on his body, were his shorts and the bandages that wrapped his chest and arms. Some of the white spotted in red.
"How are you feeling?" – Something in Mione´s soft tone was off.
Harry looked at his best friend, suddenly more aware.
Hermione sat in a chair beside his bed looking at him with concern. On the table beside her, a basin, a pitcher, and some blood-stained bandages and cloth, spoke of her hand in the impromptu treatment of his injuries.
"I've been better." – The auror smiled just to reassure her. And tried to remember why was he hurt this time. His head ached and he felt uneasy, as if something very important was missing. His own magic seemed to be trying to find that… something, he couldn´t remember just now.
"Hermione... Why I'm hurt?"
"Don´t you remember?" - Mione looked totally exhausted. The rumpled and stained with dirt, loose and disheveled hair, framing her sleep needed face. Her hands twisting a rolled up damp cloth, that she seemed to had been applying to him.
"No ... my head hurts ..." – And looked harder at her face, looking for whatever he was lacking.
"Someone hit you with a septumsembra spell when you were trying to stop Ron."
"Septumsembra ..." - Something... something… something nagged him... He could not remember! The urgency was growing. The need little by little harder to ignore. He shifted uneasily. – "Hermione... I can´t remember what happened."
Her friend looked between worried and frantic. And it was a look the woman didn´t want in his face.
"You hit your head pretty strong, it may be that. But there doesn´t seem to be major damage. Surely it´s just the shock, it'll pass in a few hours. But Harry ... Do not you remember Draco?" - Now that really seemed to worry her.
"Dra... co ..." - Whispered the name slowly, tasting each letter. Something in his head jumped like an alarm. THAT! And shouted. – "Draco!" – Harry bolted upright remembering. And the sudden pain doubled him in half, but even so, it didn´t stop the auror from grabbing his friend by the shoulders roughly. –"Where is Draco?!"
Hermione 's eyes glazed over.
"Harry ... you have to understand ... We couldn´t do a thing."
"What are you talking about Mione?" – It felt like something was starting to squeeze his heart, taking his breath, chilling his skin.
"SHE SPEAKS ABOUT HOW THEY LET THAT MONSTER TAKE MY BEST FRIEND!" – Pansy, who had been sitting in the windowsill where Harry didn´t come to see her, stormed out of her hiding place to stand in front of Hermione, who rose from her chair ready to defend herself, and her friend.
"We could do nothing! None of us could do anything! Did you? Did you do something?!" – The curly haired woman seemed at the limit of her nerves.
"I was unconscious!"
"And Harry was bleeding out! Ron under a Imperius! And I, in case you haven´t noticed, could barely walk!" – She looked ready to strike, but did not.
For a second Hermione remained silent and furious, until finally, Pansy´s mask cracked, and tears began to fall from her eyes, legs losing strength. Mione quieted at the display, and just helped the other woman sit on the edge of the bed.
" ... I know, I know." - Pansy was muttering between sobs- "It's just so unfair ..." - the Auror silently offered her handkerchief.
Harry just needed to know. Had to ask again.
"Hermione ... What does she mean? What happened to Draco?" – Like ice traveled his veins, he felt himself shiver. –"Where is Draco?"
Hermione just shrugged on herself, some invisible weight threatening to crush her.
"Draco… Harry ... – she tried again, even when she really didn´t want to tell. Didn´t want to look at the pain her words where going to bring her friend. But he asked. He deserved the truth. - the Dementor Lord took him."
"No." – A whisper, barely a sound. Harry could not believe it. Didn´t believe it.
"Listen to me please." – Mione insisted. – "The Dementor Lord threatened to kill us all if he didn´t agreed to go with him for good. He did all he could to protect you. To protect us all."
Harry took a sharp breath, looked away abruptly. Couldn´t remember a time in witch more painful words were said to him. Not even when he had been about to lose Ron's friendship. Even his magic was reacting strangely. Harry could feel it inside, like a flame would be felt by a moth, his power angry and scorching. Needing out.
"I'm going to find him." - Stood up and tried to get out of bed. Hermione hastily interposed before he could get really on his feet.
"Harry no! You shouldn´t move, the wounds are serious. Don´t you see?" - The male auror threw the covers aside.
"Stand aside Mione. I will not let Draco sacrifice himself." – Harry´s magic brushed her skin like a steam puff. The calm in his voice more alarming than a scream would have been.
"Harry, we are in the Dementors tower. Detained. Don´t you understand? We are being held as a way to ensure his obedience. None of us have his wand, no our potions. You are alive only because the spell did not cut into an artery, but if the wounds reopen, you could bleed to death. Even without the dementors guarding the door it would be suicide. We can´t help Malfoy! It's crazy to try!"
Harry looked at her.
Hermione felt her breath taken away by a look so full of magic, it was like Harry was sizzling inside.
"Hermione. Draco will become a dementor. You may or may not help, but I'll go."
They stared into each other's gazes for a long seconds. A battle of wills taking place.
But in the end, it was she who looked away.
Hermione sighed and stepped aside, knowing that short of physically wrestling him to bed, she could do nothing to make him stay.
That only left her one option.
"I'll help in any way I can. If the one I loved was in the same situation, I would try to save him at all costs too." - Offered a small smile of encouragement, that Harry returned full of gratitude.
"Thanks Mione." - Stood up with some difficulty.
"I will go too." - Pansy rose from the bed and looked at Harry like challenging him to reject her words. – "He's my best friend."
Potter nodded.
"Good." - Picked up his pants and boots from the floor and began dressing, his shirt and coat left aside, unusable after the attack.
"Harry ... I ... I'm sorry." – He was making the last lace of his boots, when the words of Ron made him finish tying them in an unnecessarily violent motion.
"It wasn´t your fault Ron." - Said as he stood with his back to his friend, not even looking at him.
Harry could hear how the red haired man sat up and approached a few steps, but he didn´t turn, he didn´t want this conversation. Not now, not when so much was at stake.
Getting Hermione to see things his way, had not been overly difficult. But she had always been sympathetic and intuitive. Surely his love for Draco had been visible for her kilometers before Harry said anything.
Ron was another matter entirely. And now he couldn´t afford to waste time on explanations that Ron would take hours to digest, let alone accept.
Harry didn´t think his best friend would forgive the blond all those times he had insulted him while they were at Hogwarts. But people change, Draco was no longer the same person. Regardless of the curse, his stay in Azkaban, or all the suffering he had gone through, he had made himself better.
Kind, sweet, funny, pure and strong, so very strong…
Somehow, someway, Draco had done it. And Harry loved him for it.
Ron was now quiet, just a few steps behind him. Could almost hear the way he was wringing his hands like every time he felt nervous.
"Drop it so I can leave."- Harry thought, but alas, it was not mean to be.
"Harry ... - the first word was stiff, strained. - I don´t understand… why Malfoy? Hermione told me ... but she´s wrong, right?"
Harry took a breath and counted to ten inside his head, before making himself answer.
"No, Ron, she´s right. I'm in love with Draco."
The response was immediate.
"Why?! We have always been treated like dirt by him and his friends. He IS a Death Eater! You cannot say something like that and mean it."
The magic ruffled Harry´s hair and he turned around, before he managed to restrain himself. That the words came from his best friend Ron, helped greatly to control his desire to stick a punch ... but only barely.
"Ron. I will not discuss this now. Draco has changed, and if you knew him as I do, you would think the same. And even if I wasn´t in love, no one deserves to end up as a Dementor! So just… I have to go." – Had to still his tongue before something he didn´t want to say left his lips.
Potter moved toward the door with his magic almost purring around his body. Pansy and Hermione who had remained respectfully silent during the discussion, came too.
Looked at the gate, ignored when Ron tried to talk to him again…
"If we do nothing we are going to lose Draco." Called for his magic, felt it condense and thicken around, more and more oppressive, more concentrated, more powerful… "I will not allow it." Gritting his teeth, concentrated all his will to handle that power, to manipulate it as he wished, to focus it on one thing, and one thing only.
And his magic responded magnificently.
The door exploded outward. Wood chips, iron fragments, nails… were thrown against the Dementors on the other side.
Harry looked at them. The magic swirled wildly on his hair, his eyes shone with a green light.
"Draco."
"Harry ... I'm in love with you "
"Specto Patronum!"
oOo
(Draco)
The rooms of the Dementor Lord were magnificent, even after so many visits. But Draco didn´t want to admire his surroundings.
He was watching the flames on the fireplace.
Did not notice the dozens of lit candles, slowly dying in every corner. Not the elegant dark wooded furniture, or the exquisite carvings of phoenixes and lions. The incredibly soft cushions of silk and velvet... All red, all embroidered in gold, where ignored. The impressive libraries covering every wall, the window, the huge four poster bed... nothing registered.
But what he really did not want to see, who he really wanted to ignore, were the other occupants of the room.
He was as far as he could from them, without being disobedient.
Hands outstretched to the fire, as if warming up. Just turned away and keeping his eyes on the red dancing lights.
But the tension in his shoulders betrayed his nervousness.
The Dementor Lord, Thomas and William, were sitting in the seats around the tea table, the Lord presiding from the most comfortable chair.
An instant later couple of taps on the door announced the entrance of someone else. Draco recognized the voice of Lady Margaret.
"My Lord, I bring some drinks." – Her hissing voice, usually so friendly, sounded dull and lifeless. Draco felt the urge to turn around and see what could have happened to the kind female dementor, but did not. Right now he couldn´t do anything for her.
Margaret hurried over to the Lord with the tray, three fine crystal glasses and a bottle of elvish liquor prepared in it. The dark lord took one coup with a nod, then, she went to Thomas and William offering the other two, and began serving the wine.
Trying not to be seen, not noticed, she spied the presence of her little one.
When he had disappeared from the tower Margaret had been so worried... She wanted to go to him, hug his quivering frame and make him feel cared for. But she knew the Lord would not be pleased with such an open attitude.
So she made herself wait, and don´t stare at Draco's taut as a violin string back, hoping he would be ok.
Griever tasted the liquor leisurely. Being a dementor he did not need food as such, but could still enjoy the taste of a good wine from time to time.
Over the rim of his own glass he looked at Draco.
Soon a member of the tower... and his lover.
Griever had waited long for someone like him. So very rare where in Azkaban prisoners as young and attractive as the blond. But what made him unique, what had attracted him from the moment he saw his trembling frame for the first time in that tiny cell, was his purity. He could feel it as a delicious perfume, taste it like sugar on his tongue.
Yes, the perfect lover.
When a wizard becomes a dementor his sins take shape in his body, and it mutates, monstrously, according to the nature of them.
While this appearance was only visible for other Dementors, as the aura of terror made them look the same for the rest of the world, the resulting shape is still usually very unpleasant.
Margaret was a clear example of muddy corpse appearance, the result of the curse she released on a muggle village. Yes, the female dementor might seem friendly, but had massacred the entire population with a curse of sickness so slow, sickening and painful, that she had been sentenced to the worst possible punishment.
What did it matter if there had been children and innocent people in there? The stupid muggles should have known better than to burn a witch 's daughter.
The point was, that as a result, all the Dementors were physically... unpleasant. But Draco, with that purity, was sure to end with minimal mutation.
Yes, surely Draco was the only prisoner in all Azkaban with the capability to be worthy of his bed.
This is why he had forced that poor elf to deliver the diary containing ritual, to Tomas.
The one Griever had managed to save, when the old guards of Azkaban had destroyed with his fire all magic documents relating to the curse.
But saving it all those centuries had been worthwhile.
Poor Tomas, even now, he didn´t suspect a thing.
Everything was perfect, except for one thing .
When Malfoy looked at the young auror, the Lord had felt it well, their love.
His gaze cooled as he continued to watch the kind of feelings were repugnant. Draco was going to regret having them, nurturing them, ever having fallen for Potter. He would make sure of it. And meanwhile, using the Auror was an easy way of having the blond controlled.
At least until tomorrow evening, when the welcoming ceremony for Draco was going to be held; The devouring of his first soul. Then there would be no turning back.
Griever took another sip of wine.
Everything was going to end just as he had planned.
Although improvements were still possible.
"Draco."- He called.
The hissing cold and dark voice of the lord chilled Malfoy.
"…My Lord?" – He dared not be silent, but didn´t turn around. His hands trembled slightly, and he hastened to hide the shivers by rubbing them as if cold.
Under his facade of indifference there were many things that he tried to don´t think about; the rejection of Harry, his rescue from Thomas, the touch of his magic, the feeling of love that came with it.
Too much to assimilate it all.
Draco knew he couldn´t touch those thoughts, no if he wanted to remain controlled.
And he couldn´t afford a collapse now.
Maybe he was confused and hurt, and surely he was holding it all only by a miracle, but he had in mind the only real truth that could sustain him, his love for Harry.
If he failed, the most important person in the world for him, could die.
So Draco gathered all the pure blood coldness running through his veins, the lessons as an immovable noble, and his own manipulative mastery of a slytherin, and armed himself with them, making an armor with witch to cover his emotions.
Finally he turned to the three monsters in the room.
"Come here." – The Dementor Lord called.
In a few fluids steps, Draco stood before him, looking down and waiting respectfully.
"Tell me one thing Draco." – Griever asked. Languidly sipping his drink, watching, analyzing. - "How long have you and the dark haired auror been in love?"
Margaret could not help a small sound of surprise. Tomas choked on his drink and started coughing, but nevertheless managed to shout half drowned.
"What?! What love? Malfoy is a Death Eater. He can´t feel love! Not the kind humans know at least."
The tower master raised his hand imperiously, without even looking at him, and Tomas fell in silence reluctantly.
Draco swallowed, but that was his only sign of weakness. When he answered, his voice, though soft, was firm.
"Just a few days."
Tomas gasped like a fish out of water.
"No way!"
Griever smirked. Though his face could not be seen a shudder ran through all the present ones. He put the glass down carefully, deliberately ignoring the scandal.
"Why? Why can´t Draco fall in love?" - Said gently, as if the answer really interested the dark master.
Tomas gestured sharply to the silent blond.
"Because he's a Malfoy! A family that cannot be considered human, none of them! Murderers and monsters! That´s what they are!"
Griever could no longer be silent. A hissing laughter as metal on stone escaped his throat. All others cowered in terror.
"Tomas ... years now knowing Draco and yet you refuse to see him for what he is?" - Rose with the fluid movement of a shadow. – "Never, never arose in you the need to use verisaterum on him. Why´s that?" - Approached the guard like a snake about to strike. – "It occurs to me that maybe you already knew the truth? Yes, of course you knew. But you were afraid to see it confirmed, because then, you would no longer have anything to pay for your pain. No one to avenge the death of your family on."
"What are you talking about?" – Tomas tried to keep his voice steady, and failed miserably.
The Dementor Lord leaned over his chair to whisper conspiratorially in his ear.
"Draco is innocent." - The soft, almost gentle whisper, made Tomas scream.
"NO!" - Stood up abruptly, face to face with the dark lord. – "You lie!"
"Why would I lie, Tomas?"- He smiled even more before the horrified gaze of the guard. - "We can bring some verisaterum and see if my words are true. But I think you don´t need it, Am I right?"
The man took a few steps back, breathing hard. His gaze flicked to Draco. But the blond man had not looked up. The dark circles under his clean eyes clear, the curve of his defeated shoulders, spoke volumes.
"Malfoy... that´s not true, right?" - The question sounded almost like a plea.
"What does it matter?" - Draco 's voice monotonous and dull, not even looking at him.
"You see, Tomas. You have been torturing an innocent man. For how long? Seven years?" – The condescending tone was more hurtful than malice itself.
The Lord approached the guard who had retreated to the door.
"You let anger rule over your life, and you closed your eyes to the evidence showing your mistake. For, if Draco was innocent, then your life no longer had meaning. Is not so?"
Tomas buried his face in his hands. He did not want to keep listening. Could not keep listening.
The Lord moved closer, lips brushing the lobe of his hear as he continued mercilessly.
"You know what's the best of it? That it´s you, who has given him to me. How does it feel to convict an innocent man to an eternity of suffering?"
Unable to take it anymore Tomas fell to his knees.
"Are not you going to apologize for all the times you've hurt him? Are you not going to apologize for the tortures, rape, heinous words?"
The guard trembled but said nothing.
"I thought so." - The despising in the terrifying voice could be felt like oil on skin. – "You're pathetic. You can´t even be a worthy monster?" - Hissed. - "So what are you going to do? Are you going to stand there and lament? Or are you going to finish what you started?" - Towered over the prostrate figure as a deity of destruction. – "If you will not apologize, then... Finish what you started!" - Bellowed. –"LOOK AT ME!"
Tomas had not stopped shaking, but finally, convulsively, looked up.
He looked lost on his old-looking face, and the agony could be read in him. The Dementor Lord showed no mercy.
"You wanted revenge. Still want revenge. Do you not?" - The darkness fluctuated, seductive, the breaths began to condense in the frozen air. Tomas could not look away.
He nodded weakly.
The dark lord smiled cruelly.
"Draco is from the blood and flesh of the man who killed your family. It's literally the only living trace of him." - Noted the anger return to the guards look, as an aqueous shadow. – "But he is innocent and pure, and not to blame for the actions of that man."– And saw him hesitate. – "Yet, you still want your revenge?"
Draco stood still as the Lord ruthlessly tore his robe to the waist, seductively sliding the fabric off his shoulders and arms, exposing the slender torso and pink nipples. The monster slid his hands over skin, stroking up, catching one of the rosy buttons between his fingers. He tugged gently.
Draco remained indifferent as an statue.
"Tell me then." - The eyes of guard seemed attached to the manipulations of those long fingers. – "What do you want? Revenge?" – Made another small tug and slid one leg between Draco 's thighs, forcing him to open his legs a little more. – "Or penance?" - Took the hem of the white robe with his free hand, and slowly lifted it, so the man could better appreciate those pale spread legs.
"Revenge." - And his voice sounded like it could have been that of an infery. The twinkle in his eyes had become feverish and crazy.
The Dementor Lord smiled like a proud father.
"That's it."- He reached out to Tomas, taking him of the floor. – "Then, you will kill the Auror. And you will do it for the man who killed your wife, so his child feels the same pain you felt."
The mask Draco had weaved on, cracked slightly, gasped at those words, could not remain silent. He looked at the guard, pleading.
"No, Harry is innocent. His only offense was being too good. It's not his fault that I love him. Please… "- Muttered. The hand of the Lord closed gently around his throat, could feel the grip on his skin; A warning.
Still...
"Please." - Barely whispered.
Tomas leaned over him posing his lips on Dracos own. He kissed him slowly, almost languid, stroked with his tongue his shut lips. But the Lord Dementor put pressure on Dracos throat forcing him to open up, and the possessive tongue of Tomas slid into his mouth. The saliva of both mixed and remained like a thread for a moment, connecting them when Tomas retired, as if he only wanted to taste his mouth again.
"Forgive me."- Tomas breathed on his lips. His eyes bright and dark. – "But the Lord is right, I choose revenge." - He turned away from them. Draco could not speak, felt a lump in his throat as painful as Griever´s claws around his neck.
The guard came to the door, his hand on the doorknob.
"I'll tell Potter you love him." - Did not even turn to look at Draco. Opened the door. – "I could not tell her." – It closed behind his retreating back.
"You said you would not hurt him." – Draco moaned trapped between Grievers arms.
"And I have not. Neither I nor any of the servants of the tower will touch him. But Tomas is a guard. He takes his own decisions." - Whispered in his ear.
Draco knew if he resisted the Dementor Lord would had send the dementors to kill Harry, and that, he would not survive.
So he could only remain confident that Wesley Granger would protect him from Tomas.
Long fingers like spider legs slid between his thighs.
He closed his eyes.
And prepared to embrace the darkness.
It will continue.