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 know I have said this already but… I´m sooooo evil. XD

Dementor Kiss

Chapter 17- 2- Trial

The healing spells she had cast when Harry was unconscious, were not by far enough for his wounds. Stabilizers alone. He needed to go to Sant Mungo as soon as he could.
It was obvious he was not good, even without looking at his bandaged ches,t she could see how pale was his skin, and how dark where the circles around his eyes.
"Hermione ... I regret having to do this. Stupefy."

His friend lost her balance and collapsed unconscious. Ron ran to hold her, suddenly aware of the situation.
"What are you doing Harry!? I can´t believe you would get to that point for Malfoy." - Anger and disgust were so evident in his voice, like a fly floating in milk.
Harry stared coldly. Time was running out.
"I don´t expect you to understand Ron. But I´m going to ask you this; go to the ministry and call for reinforcements." – And threw Tomas wand at the redhead.
Ron picked it at fly, and gave him a look that said clearly how little he liked this, but nodded. Recognized that without outside help, Harry wouldn´t be able to stop this madness. And besides, he knew his friend well enough to know that arguing would be useless. But the knowledge did not make it easier.
"I will take Hermione with me."
The dark haired auror nodded, secretly relieved to not have to argue anymore.

Went to the door. Pansy ran to catch up with him.
"I'm going with you." –

Harry accepted. He would need all the help possible.

OOo

(Draco)

Sitting in front of the mirror, his reflection stared back at him like a doll.
He felt like one. Dressed and arranged to attend a ceremony that was just a farce.
His hands clenched in his lap. He would not cry, refused to show how much he was hurting inside. Just reminded himself why this had to be done; "I have to do this for Harry. To give him at least a chance of survival."

Margaret would find him, hopefully soon. Draco needed to know Harry was okay. Needed to believe he would be.
Suddenly the door opened behind him. In the mirror's reflection saw William enter the room.
"It's time."- The dementor said.
Draco nodded.
His reflection in the mirror copied the gesture, but the blond man there didn´t look like Draco. Not in his makeshift robe, from witch someone had removed the sleeves and hood, linking the rest with a pair of fine silver chains. Surely the Lord had wanted to see his arms, shoulders and neck.
Lady Margaret had combed his hair until it fell on his shoulders like a silver cloak. Just like a doll.
He closed his eyes for a moment to dispel the poor thought, the only sign of weakness to be allowed. Then, let the impassive mask fall, and stood with the elegance and pride only becoming of a Malfoy.
William, for once, didn´t make any hurtful comments.

Admiration flooded the dementor, spectator of the incredible strength of the pure blood. Draco was an image of royalty. Head high even at the gates of a sentence worse than death.
William bowed and offered his arm.
"It's an honor to be your escort."
And the gentle hand of the young man leaned against his arm, silently accepting his company to the gibbet.

oOo

(Margaret)

Margaret ran, the music had started, she had to find the Auror before it was to late.

oOo

(Harry)

Harry listened.

At first almost inaudible , then with more and more strength, a strange sound had begun to flood the hallways. Rhythmic softly howling hissing, an unnerving and melancholic melody, a sound that made him shiver, and raised the hair of his arms. A song that presaged something worse than death, a song made of hopelessness.
The sound of unknown wind instruments joined the prayer, like the wind on the waves of a storm, like the wind among dead branches
He held his breath trying to discover its source. Pansy shook by his side. Suddenly the tower seemed even colder.
A dementor came to the hall they were on, stopping at their gaze. Harry was preparing to attack when he saw it coming closer, but slowly, not threatening, and there was something oddly familiar about it.
The creature stopped by a window just a few feet from away. The glass became iced, and a skeletal finger began to scratch the surface.
It was writing.

"I´m Margaret, a friend of Draco. Please, save him."
Harry recognized it then. The dementor who had been looking after Draco.
"Do you know where he is?"
The creature nodded.
"Then take us to there."

oOo

(Draco)

The music rocked him like a dirge, more clear and engaging as they neared its origin.
Draco let the notes drop on him like raindrops, calming himself in their beauty. Rocking in their sadness, like that a loving mother, helping him to accept the inevitable, cradling him so he did not cry.
Allowed for its presence to embrace his mind, and drifted until it was hear so close as only few meters away.
Down the hall, forged metal double doors appeared, and the dementors on each side opened them for them two. The music swept the hall free of the confining room, and Draco sighed as William led into inside. To the room where they would celebrate.

Candles lit the corners of the great oval that was the place, wherever sunset light did not come to bathe with blood red hue.
An entire half of the walls were clean glass, no dust clinging to the windows of this chamber like it did in all the rest of the tower. Behind them the sun sank in the stormy sea, like a hot iron in the waves.
On both sides of the room Dementors lined the walls; so many that Draco doubted missing one inhabitant of the tower was missing. They were singing. A few played strange wind instruments, long stems of resembling faded flowers, bone.
His gaze drifted down the musicians to the figure presiding over the ceremony; Griever Gryffindor, the Dementor Lord, stood before an altar of stone that seemed to come from the very bowels of the tower, a black bedrock in the exact center of the room. Bright, polished…
"Obsidian."- He thought.
And on the ground beside it, chained to the feet of the dark Lord, was a prisoner he did not recognize. Malnourished and dirty, he was a man of no more than 30 years. Dressed only with the rags considered the prison uniform. Brown hair a tangle on his skull, pale and gaunt, obviously crazy. It was there, on his eyes like that's of a frightened animal.

He occasionally pulled the chains linking his arms to the floor, but it was to no avail. Draco felt nauseous.
The music was dying like the flame of a candle on a sigh, and when it died in a last whisper, the Dementor Lord reached out, and Draco felt William go away.
The blonde summoned all the will he had left, to endure what he knew had to be done.
But when he finally started walking discovered that he wasn´t afraid. He had experienced what love was, and now he knew that no matter what he would always have the memory of the auror inside. Even in the greatest darkness he could close his fingers around that little flame and not be afraid of darkness.

A smile blossomed gently on pale lips.
Draco did not care anymore. While he could remember the intense color of Potters eyes will not feel alone.
His fingers were taken on the icy grip of the Lord, and a clawed hand closed around his.
The voice of the master of the tower came to all who were present.
"Tonight we are here to receive the last of our brothers. Tonight we are here to see the arrival of Draco." - A buzz of excitement grew around the room. – "Draco Malfoy tonight will become a dementor." – The master looked at the blond at his side, but this didn´t look back. Dracos gaze was looking immutable, the image of the proudest nobility.

Griever closed tightly his hand over his, and finally gray eyes looked at him.
"Now is the time to drink your first soul. Here at your feet it´s the one you who will sacrifice his life, so you can reach a new one."
Draco looked at the prisoner.

He was as scared as a mouse in the presence of a hawk. A terrible silence thrived in the room; the Lord had released his hand, all eyes rested on him. He did not want to.
The Dementor Lord perceived his rejection and his lips brushed his ear, soft and sensual, as he talked.
"If you don´t not kill him, I will. And then I will send all my servants after the Auror, and when I get him, I'll devour his soul in front of your very eyes, so you can see how life is extinguished from his gaze." - Whispered cruelly.
Draco closed his eyes. And knew he would do it.

His heart sank in his chest as he opened his eyes. No choice left.
And knelt in front of the prisoner, who looked at him, a desperate plea on silent lips. The blond wondered if someone had rendered the man speechless, precisely to prevent him begging. But it was a fleeting though that went away just as quickly as it had come.
Gently, took the dirty and scratched, haunted face, in his hands, touched it with the tenderness of a brother. Looked straight in the crazy eyes, trying to be reassuring, and the prisoner finally relax under his care.
"I'm sorry." - Whispered with soft sweetness, reassuring, sad. He wanted to try and make the man suffer as little as possible. – "I promise I'll be kind, try not to make it hurt too much." - The prisoner seemed to understand that there was no going back, there was no hope, and just let Draco calm him. – "I know it´s horrible, please believe me, I know." - felt he had tears threatening to soak his lashes. – "But there is someone I love more than my life, to save him I will become a monster. To save him I will have to kill you." - A tear finally slipped and fell to the curve of his cheek. – "Please forgive me."- Whispered, voice breaking.

The prisoner closed his eyes.
Their lips met in a kiss.
It tasted like sadness and pain, but it was warm. That warmth was calling Draco now that he was not fighting the curse anymore, like a wave dragged him in, urging him to the heat, to take it, to make it his, to let it take the pain away.
He felt a shudder as his worst memories resurfaced inflaming the need to feed. The torture, rape, heinous words, fear for Harry ... ice began falling, making him shake, I was so cold, it hurt so much. Instinctively he seeks the warmth of the memories of the prisoner. A girl laughing, a woman who called, the sunrise over the mountains... one after the other, faster and faster, more and more desperate, until the visions became a blur of warmth that seemed to flood him.
But it was not enough, the painful memories still were there, increasingly more intense. He felt as if his heart would tear and break, the blood roaring in his veins, everything was spinning. The only thing that was holding him was the prisoner. He slipped his arms around his neck took even more of his essence. Wanting more. But suddenly there were no more memories to drink. Felt he would die if he could not get something else.
Then, Draco felt another warm, different from the memories, purer, much more intense. If he drinks it, the pain would disappear.
He was almost delirious with necessity, but even so feral and thirsty, recognized what it was, the soul of the man. Draco stopped, stopped despite how terribly painful it was, stopped even when his bones creaked and blood became ice. STOPPED. And then, the curse threw a last memory to the front of your mind.
"I love you." - The voice, broken, sad, lost, made Harry stop instantly.
"Harry... I ... I'm in love with you."
"I told you not to call me by my name." - That was the only answer. The auror did not even look at him, just left.
The pain cut like a white-hot blade. Sliced away his heart, became acid in his veins.
And Draco just could not stop anymore.

oOo

(Harry)

The music had died a few minutes ago, everything was too quiet. Just the sound of their footsteps running down the halls disturbed it. Margaret led them down the corners of the tower quickly and anxious, each second more frantic, more frightened.
Harry also fell it, that something terrible was happening. Could almost breathe it. Prayed they managed to arrive on time. Pansy ran slightly behind him, but did not lose the pace; she seemed to sense it too.
Finally, they arrived in front a pair of guarded by dementors metal doors.
He called his magic.
"Specto Patronum!" - Draco 's smile created a magnificent deer shining like a star, that, like a beast, charged against the creatures.

They fled in panic, and Lady Margaret retired to the end of corridor, also frightened by the patronus but refusing to leave. Just the fact that it was not directed at her, was the thing that allowed her to stay.
Harry blasted the doors.
There in the center of the huge room, surrounded by dementors, bathed in the red light of dusk, was Draco.
In his arms was a prisoner in chains.
His lips melted into a desperate kiss.
They parted only a few inches.
A small ball of light escaped from the lips of the prisoner and brushed Draco's.
"It's a soul!"
"Draco, NO!"
The little ball of light disappeared between pink lips.
Draco swallowed.

To be continued.