Drabble 3: Spell

Voldemort cackled, the sound echoing throughout the battlefield. Before him, Harry stood, empty emerald eyes peering out at the world. His clothes were ripped and torn, foretelling the story of the chaotic fight he had just been through.

His wand lay in the hand of his enemy, and his mouth was opened soundlessly, every muscle in his body slack.

The Death Eaters that surrounded the two frowned, looking at the obviously defeated boy with pity. Even they didn't know what their Lord had just done and it scared them.

"My faithful!" Voldemort bellowed, striding around in a circle, the two wands in his hands being waved around precariously. "Today, we witness the death of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and the birth of Hadrian Riddle, the pet of Lord Voldemort."

The previously silent arena suddenly came to life, the screams of utter joy ringing throughout the battlefield. One, Hadrian Riddle, however, did not react to the news.

He merely stared ahead, not blinking. Striding towards his new pet, Voldemort viciously pulled the boy down into a heated and cruel kiss.

Pulling back, he smiled, teeth glowing faintly in the dim candle light.

"Love," he spat. "What utter rubbish."

In the back of the crowd, Draco Malfoy watched on, a lone tear slowly falling from behind his mask.

Harry Potter was now dead.

The next few months had been truly tragic.

Draco watched as Voldemort took Harry to his chambers, the sound of the bed rocking back and forth echoing maddeningly throughout Riddle Manor.

At the stroke of midnight, Harry's screams would be heard throughout the castle along with Voldemort's cackles. Each scream would be filled with heart wrenching agony and, more than once, Draco had to seek comfort from his parents.

However, in the morning, the screams would abruptly stop. They'd be replaced with horrid silence and when Harry would be seen the next morning, his eyes would be red rimmed. Draco desperately wanted to check on the boy, but it seemed the Dark Lord's spell had worked too well.

The boy's eyes would be empty once more and Draco knew that the young boy was not truly coherent.

Whether or not he buried his consciousness willingly or not, Draco never knew, but he prayed to Merlin that Harry would somehow not feel the pain he knew that Voldemort was putting him through.

Today was the day, Draco decided, slowly stalking towards the lone boy that sat in the parlor. He was no doubt waiting for his master and for once, Draco was thankful for Voldemort's cruelty.

Standing before Harry, he reached out, gently cupping the boy's cheek.

"Harry?" he whispered, looking right into broken eyes. Harry didn't respond. He merely looked ahead, ignoring Draco.

"Ha-rr-y," he tried again, enunciating every syllable. Again, the boy did not respond. He was about to try again when the door suddenly opened, Voldemort's eyes meeting Draco's gray ones.

"Oh and what do we have here?" the man asked. Evidently, he took too long because Voldemort suddenly snarled, whipping his wand out and screeching.

All Draco knew was black.

When he woke up, Draco was tied to a gravestone. Feeling eerily reminded of the one Harry himself had sat on a year before, Draco fought viciously against his bonds.

However, a low and pain filled hiss caught his attention. Turning his head to the side, he saw Harry in all his naked glory making his way towards him. Instead of being empty, emerald eyes were alight with a fierce anger.

The boy twitched at random intervals and at once, Draco felt hope rising in his chest. Harry was obviously fighting against Voldemort's spell and the older wizard knew if the cruelty shining in his eyes meant anything.

"Ha-Harry," he croaked, voice scratchy. Those eyes immediately flashed towards him and he could feel Harry's relief and Voldemort's anger at the same time

"I'm sorry," he whispered, ignoring the hatred that was suddenly pointed towards him from Voldemort. Harry opened his mouth, as if to say something, and then closed it.

He nodded.

"Hadrian!" Voldemort bellowed warningly. Harry paused, looking at his master. He opened his mouth again, mouthing words soundlessly.

"I…Don't…Take…Orders…From…You."

At the end, he moved his hands rapidly, smiling happily when a bolt of green lightening flew from his recently stolen wand.

In that moment, three things happened at once.

First, Voldemort screamed in outrage. Then, Harry's legs gave out. Finally, the green light connected, the bolt hit Voldemort square in the chest.

Silence rang out.

Testing his bonds, Draco found that they were loose. He reasoned that it must have been because the castor was now dead. Rushing to the still body of Harry, Draco sat beside him, clutching his hands and sobs ripped themselves out of his throat.

"Potter?" he questioned. "You can't die, you imbecile!"

He received no response.

"Potter!" he yelled.

Nothing.

He began to pound his fists on Harry's chest.

"POTTER!"

A cough. It was low but it was enough. Hugging Harry to his chest, Draco cried, ignoring the confusion that Harry voiced.

"Shut up," he mumbled. "Let me be happy in peace."

That seemed to do the trick, for Harry immediately began to silence himself.

"Harry?" he asked, allowing himself to call Harry what he had grown used to calling him since that fateful night. Harry hummed.

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

"We tell no one about this?" he questioned, awkwardly. Harry nodded, burying his nose in Draco's neck so he wouldn't see the blush that rose on his cheeks.

"Agreed."

Additional Prompts:

March Word Count- 920.

Make It Angst or Fluff Competition - Action - Kissing.