Title: Kiss.
Author: AspergianStoryteller.
Genre: Supernatural/General.
Summary: When a Dementor tried to Kiss Harry Potter, it got more than it bargained for. I'm relatively new to the HP fanfiction fandom, and there's so many HP stories. Please tell me if someone's already done a story like this! Don't own Harry Potter.
Chapter 2: Tug-of-War.
And cold, lipless jaws pressed down on his mouth...
Harry's first kiss wasn't nice. It was cold, clammy, and unpleasantly dominating. A horrible sucking feeling tugged at his insides. Despair and terror penetrated him from every pore, freezing and fog pouring down his throat.
'Have mercy!'
Tug, tug. Harry was floating. Upwards, through the cold mist, up towards the darkness. There was nothing but darkness, cold and hopeless misery.
Tug. There was something rising along with him. It was almost like another person, absurd as that was. Harry was alone. No, not quite one of those distant, forgotten dreams. It was too, diminished, too small. A shred. A fragment, perhaps? Harry reached over and touched the thing clinging to his soul.
Ouch! It hurt. The thing felt white hot, stabbing cold, piercing like knives and a headache. Tight, cruel, coiling, bright green, crimson red, hissing, high laughter and a scream. What the hell was this strange (yet familiar at the same time) horrid thing attached to him?
Inside the darkness: the warm, feeling creature was securely in his grasp. It was too weak to resist him now. It was limp, except for that annoying, tight grip it had on the escaped man collapsed next to it. He couldn't see the physical world, but that didn't matter. He knew that his prey, with delicious happy feelings to devour, crippled by his power and its own past must look almost lifeless now. Its seeing organs half closed by weakly fluttering lids. It was almost a shame he couldn't keep the human, take it with him and feed every day. He would put it a dark place, safe and miserable. Until it was completely empty.
Wait, what was this? The humans soul had something extra. It felt like another soul, but lesser. Where had that come from? No matter. It was weak, far weaker than a whole soul, but still, the Dementor wouldn't refuse a meal with an extra side.
'Weakling, are you just going to surrender yourself?' A voice hissed. 'I won't allow you to give up and drag me with you. Fight!'
'Mm...'
The thing rammed itself into Harry, hurting them both.
'Mm!'
The pain (tight, cruel, coiling) made the darkness still.
'Fight!'
'Argh!' (Bright green, crimson red, hissing.)
'Mm!'
And Harry was falling down again, away from the darkness. Rising up, falling down. A painful tug-of-war between souls waged.
Harry and the thing were falling when something bright and silvery-white came. They were pushed/pulled back into his body, out of the darkness and fell solidly into grass. Harry struggled to raise his head, weak, sick and trembling, saw the light illuminate everything and drive the Dementors away. The cold and screaming retreated with them.
The light, through sweaty eyes he could just make out a shape, a large animal with four long legs, galloping around the lake and across it where someone patted it in welcome back. The person was familiar, but it couldn't be...
But he couldn't think any more. Harry's strength gave out and he fainted into a much more welcoming darkness than before.
XXX xxx XXX
What do you think? Pardon the occasional change between past and present tense, it's like that on purpose. I think it fits. Thanks for reading!