I'll throw away my faith, babe,
just to keep you safe
Don't you know you're
everything I have?
By: The Cab
Harry is curled up in a ball, his eyes tightly shut, in a blank generic hotel room. Yet it is anything but that... It is full of memories.
Memories of hot gasps and questing hands. Of secret giggles and liquid mercury eyes. Of being pushed against a beige wall and kissed until neither one could breathe. Of his prom night, when Malcolm flew in after his concert in Paris to meet Harry in this nondescript hotel five miles from Harry's high school to pretend for a moment to be normal teenagers.
Memories of his first house with Sirius, before Remus and their need for more space. A dream-like place seven miles away where he experienced so many firsts. First ride on a motorcycle, his first time eating a chimichanga, his first kiss with a girl and then later a boy.
He lets them wash over him in waves unwilling to join the flow of the world around him. Too comfortable in the past. Too scared of the present.
He knows once he opens his eyes Draco will not be there. Draco.
The name breaks something in him and a sob chokes its way from his chest and wrack through his entire body. He wants to lose himself in it, the way he tried to escape in memories. Let his tears attempt to wash the pain away.
Harry's reverie is interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Startled, his heart jumps in his chest until he remembers where he is and why. With a pang of embarrassment, he quickly wipes away any traces of tears, recalling how Draco had done the same for him just twenty-four hours ago. The familiar sound of Luna's voice drifts in through the thin wood, low and urgent, breaking through the silence.
"Harry? You okay in there?"
For a moment, Henry considers not answering. The weight of the memories, the ghost of Draco's touch, feels like a cocoon he's reluctant to shed. But reality intrudes, as persistent as Luna's knocking.
"Yeah," he calls out, his voice rough from disuse. "I'm fine."
He moves to the door, each step an effort, as if walking through water. When he opens it, Luna's forever pale concerned face swims into view in the tan-colored sitting room, Theo hovering just behind her, like a honor guard.
"We thought we heard..." Luna trails off, his eyes scanning the room behind Harry.
Looking everywhere but at the evidence on Harry's face.
"Never mind. How are you holding up?"
Henry shrugs, the gesture encompassing more than he could ever put into words. How do you explain feeling homesick for a place you're standing in? How do you describe the disorientation of being surrounded by familiarity that no longer fits? His home is in Forks, Washington and he doesn't know if he will ever see him again.
Luna pushes past Harry, her usual bravado tempered by something softer.
"This must be weird for you," she says, perching on the edge of the bed with Theo close on her heels, "Being back here, I mean."
Harry nods, grateful for her pretending she didn't just interrupt his breakdown. He moves back into the room, closing the door behind him. The click of the door shutting sounds unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
"It's like..." Henry starts, then pauses, searching for the right words.
"It's like looking at a photo album of someone else's life. I recognize everything, but it doesn't feel like mine anymore. The only thing that feels real is…him,"
Luna nods, her expression a mix of sympathy and something else – worry, perhaps, or guilt for not being able to do anything to help him.
"I keep thinking about Draco," Harry admits, the name bringing a bittersweet ache to his chest. "If he's in danger, if he's…"
Luna and Theo exchange a glance, a silent communication passing between them. It's Luna who speaks.
"I would have seen it, don't worry. We'll get you back to him, Harry. To a new life. We just need to wait,"
Henry nods, but the weight of the unsaid hangs heavy in the air. The monster lurking in the shadows, the danger that drove them here, the uncertainty of what comes next.
As if sensing his spiraling thoughts, Luna moves closer, placing a steadying hand on Henry's shoulder.
"One step at a time, right? We're here, we're safe for now. Let's focus on that."
Harry takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself in the lifeless colors. An unnatural calm flows through Harry, but beneath it all, he can still sense his worry. The hotel room slowly comes back into focus – no longer just a canvas for his memories, but a sanctuary, however temporary.
"Yeah," he says, mustering a smile that feels fake even without seeing it.
Luna gently shakes him awake, her porcelain face illuminated by the fading light coming through the windows. The orange and pink hues of sunset have been replaced by the deep purples and blues of night, and he can see the stars shining brightly outside his window. He used to spend hours with Sirius, stargazing and memorizing the names and stories behind each constellation, a tradition his family had imposed on him. But now, all he longs for is the familiarity of Fork's cloudy overcast night sky.
As he sits up, Luna sets a tray of food on his lap, the smell of treacle tart filling his senses. A small smile plays on his lips as he wonders how she knew what to get him, but then realizes that Draco must have told her. He pushes aside the other dishes on his plate, eager to dig into the pie that reminds him of home and being surrounded by friends in a large starlit hall. His mind drifts to this comforting image before shrugging it off as just a lingering dream.
He looks up at Luna, grateful for her company as he finishes off every last bite on his plate, savoring the sweet taste of treacle tart on his tongue.
Harry finds the words following out of his mouth without his permission, "What do vampires eat?"
Luna raises her eyebrows at him and frowns,
"Draco wouldn't like me answering that question," Luna says, "He likes to pretend if he doesn't talk about his diet he can still come across as human,"
"But he isn't here right now," Harry says, feeling his chest tighten to know that Draco hasn't come to complete terms with his immortality.
"Well, if we're going by tradition," she begins, her voice taking on a playful, mock-scholarly tone, "Vampires primarily subsist on human blood. But different vampires have different rules regarding morality. Some only want to drink animal blood. Almost like a…vegetarian vampire."
Henry nods, his eyes distant as he tries to picture it.
"I remember this one movie where the vampires could eat normal food, but it didn't nourish them. They just did it to blend in with humans."
Luna snorts, "We can technically eat human food, the same way you can technically eat dirt,"
Harry makes a disgusted face and Luna giggles again.
"So where do you fall into all of this?" Harry asks.
"We drink from animals, but that's not to say that none of us has slipped up," Luna says a dark look crossing her face, "We are still dangerous,"
Harry nods slowly, his expression thoughtful.
"And Draco has he…slipped up?"
Luna looks uncomfortable which is answer enough for Harry.
"That's something only Draco can answer. He doesn't like to talk about his past, especially not with us," Luna says.
"But you are his family," Harry says confused.
He'd seen how close they were with each other over the past year and seen the look on Draco's face when he talked about them.
"I think Draco had another family before us. One that loved him no less, but had very strong ideas about who he should be and how he should behave,"
Harry shakes his head thinking about how Sirius sometimes looked at Harry and saw his father or how the Dursleys wished that he was invisible or better yet not related to them at all. He understood the complications of family expectations all too well.
"I think he is still trying to figure out who he is despite all the time that has passed," Luna says with a faraway look in her eyes.
Draco gasps as he leans against a tree, making sure to rub Harry's clothes into the bark with his back.
Tom is fast and relentless. Draco wasn't aware that vampires could get tired but he is starting to feel the effects of running for so long without a break or a chance to stop and feed. So far Draco had led Tom a hundred and sixteen miles outside of Forks to Vancouver and Tom continued to take the bait of Harry and his combined scents. Pansy and Blaise stayed back to guard Harry's relatives and Severus and Lily guarded Hermione and Ron, while Bella the younger version of his crazy aunt circled looking for openings. He straightens up, the disgusting thoughts of Tom edging into his mind as the monster catches up with him, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. The name Luna flashes across the screen and he internally groans as he clicks answer.
"Luna," Draco snaps in a tight voice.
"It's not going to work anymore Draco, he's going to change his mind," she says the second the direction of Tom's thoughts changes.
"He figured it out that Harry's not here anymore," Luna intones.
Draco punches a hole in the tree that he is leaning against as he listens to Tom's excitement of a challenging chase with intelligent prey. The tree's truck shatters and the tree collapses disturbing the birds in other surrounding trees. The sound of the tree crashing is the last sound he hears before he feels himself falling into nothingness.
"Draco?"
"Are you alright?"
Draco blinks as the decrypted walls of his family's cellar come into focus, the boy from before, staring at him with worry from behind the bars of his cell. He wonders why the boy worries for him though because he looks like death warmed over. His pale skin was covered in bruises and festering cuts, his eyes bloodshot and his hair matted with dirt and blood. The boy weakly pushes himself up and crawls his way over to the bars, wrapping his fists around them for support.
"Do you have the amulet?" he asks, his weak voice coloured by an American accent that Draco didn't notice the first time he appeared in the…memory he assumes.
"Yes," Draco finds himself saying once again without his permission, as his hand digs around in the extension charmed pouch at his side nonverbally accioing the piece of jewellery and holding it up in the dim light.
"Well, do what you have to do potions man," the boy mutters as he collapses back on the ground, all his strength used up.
"Do they not teach potions at Ilvermorny?" Draco smirks as he assembles his ingredients in front of him creating the potion that he somehow knows will temporally disable the wards with the help of the amulet if used at precisely midnight.
"Oh, yeah we do, I'm just shit at them. It's why I was in England in the first place Headmaster Fontaine thought a study abroad over summer break would improve my willingness to learn. He of course didn't know about the war with England keeping it all hush hush,"
"They took over the Ministry," Draco drawls as he stirs the simmering cauldron, "And it's a little hard to get information out when they are monitoring floo connections, port keys, and owl postage,"
"You could have just called us or emailed? Or better yet texted," the boy grumbles.
Draco feels his face make a confused expression, even though he knows what all of those are now.
"Is that some new form of magic that only America has?" he asks in a fascinated voice.
The boy rolls his eyes and mutters 'purebloods' in the same disgusted voice that Draco used to say 'mudbloods' and 'muggles'.
"No, they are muggle communications, made with technology. They are much more effective than many of the wizard counterparts,"
Draco hates to admit it, but he finds himself agreeing. He is all but addicted to texting on his phone and he is always going to google before he opens up a book these days. He didn't know how he managed to spend some much time in the school library researching for homework before now.
As the potion reaches completion he feels anticipation building in his body as he hovers the amulet over the boiling liquid.
Soon, soon this nightmare will be over and he can get out of this house. With his impending transformation, his parents will be safer with him far away lest the Dark Lord discover his changes try and to use him as a weapon against them.
The eerie words flash through his head they are gone and they leave him wondering if it was his past self that thought them.
With a deep breath, he takes a moment to assess his appearance. He is adorned in thick, inconspicuous muggle clothing - a heavy winter jacket, well-worn jeans, and sturdy snow boots. It is the attire of a runaway, a deserter. His heart quickens as he understands that his past self considered abandoning his parents to fend for themselves. Who was this person?
But then his thoughts shift to the prisoner beside him. His eyes flick back to the boy's face, barely recognizable as Harry anymore. And yet, there is still a glimmer of familiarity in the determined set of his eyes and the unyielding line of his mouth. It is that spark that compels him reconsider his past self's motivations to not leave his side. To bring him along.
With a flick of his wrist, he casts a powerful tempus spell over the bubbling cauldron, its magenta liquid swirling and pulsing with energy. His chanting grows more urgent, the unfamiliar words twisting his mouth into uncomfortable contortions. The air around him crackles with magic as he stirs the potion, occasionally releasing a puff of green noxious smoke. As the floating clock strikes precisely twelve o'clock, he drops a glimmering amulet into the seething mixture with a resounding splash. With bated breath, he watches as the wards around the Manor that had kept him imprisoned shudders and then crumbles to the ground in defeat.
With a surge of adrenaline, he leaps to his feet and rushes to the cell door, his fingers tracing intricate patterns in the air as he quickly unlocks it with a complex charm taught to him by his father at the beginning of summer. He can't help but wish now that he had paid closer attention to its significance, instead of dismissing it as an unnecessary lesson.
"We have to hur-" Draco says in a rush of words, that suddenly gets cut short as the door to the cellar slams open.
"Imperio," his father's voice shouts and the spell washes over him, taking the fight out of him.
"I knew you were trying to hide something from me son," His father's voice whispers drenched in disgust, "But did you honestly think you could hide a prison break from me,"
Draco feels himself relax slightly as he realizes his father hasn't already discovered his secret. That is until a lush whispered voice croons into his ear to raise his wand and cast-
With a cold, mechanical voice, he hisses out the deadly curse: "Avada Kedavra." The searing feelings of hate and anger surge through him, fueled by his father's own anger flowing through him.
They overpower any sense of grief or devastation, turning him into a ruthless machine bent on destruction.
His father turns his head forcefully, forcing him to look away from the boy's lifeless face. He can feel the warm wood of his father's wand pressed against his temple, inches away from his skin. His father mutters under his breath, the words like venom dripping from each syllable.
,
"Obliviate,"
Draco feels all of his memories of the boy, more than he even knew he experienced, of his discovery of his true nature, of his correspondence with Sanguini, funnel away, replaced with ones of torture and desperation. A desperation that is fueled by a need to uphold his family's pureblood values and redeem the Malfoy name. The curiosity and awe that always influenced his hatred of Harry Potter dissipates like floo power thrown at a fire transforming his emotions into nothing but revulsion and a need for revenge.
His father's voice echoes in his head controlling his every thought and action from here on out, "You will kill Dumbledore, repair the cabinet, and capture Harry Potter and bring him the Dark Lord if it is the last thing you do,"
Draco meets his father's crazed eyes and intones in a dull voice, "Yes, father,"
The world tilts on its head and he feels the stomach-churning sensation of falling again, the world going dark.
"Draco?" Luna asks in a worried voice on the other end of the phone.
Draco's eyes snap open as the forest materializes around him with a sharp jolt, his body crashing to the ground at the base of a gnarled tree. A gut-wrenching feeling surges through him, like a tight bond inside him has finally snapped and unleashed a flood of emotions he can hardly control. Guilt, sorrow, anger, fear, and lastly relief all crash into him like tidal waves, threatening to drown him in their intensity. He fights against them, pushing them back as he forces himself to focus on one thought: Harry is in more danger now that Tom is free from Luna's illusion. Draco scrambles to retrieve his phone from where it fell, urgency gripping him as he realizes the dire situation at hand.
"Your plan didn't work," Draco growls into the speaker, "It's my turn. Put Harry on the phone,"
"Draco, I don't think that's the best id-" Luna starts to say, but he hears Harry's muffled voice coming through the speakers somewhere else in the room.
"Luna, please," he begs, his heart aching at the tease of Harry's voice.
He hears grumbling on the other end then the sound of a gasp and some shuffling around. Then the sound of a door shutting.
"Draco?" Harry asks his voice sounding tense on the other side of the phone.
"Harry," Draco sighs, for the first time not hating the way that relief transfuses every aspect of his body at that one sound.
"Draco, are you okay? Luna said something about Tom figuring out about your plan and changing directions and then you went silent for hours" Harry frets.
For hours, Draco thinks feeling disturbed that the vision took him out for as long as it felt.
"Shh, sweetheart I am fine. Don't waste a single breath worrying about me," Draco soothes, "I am coming to get you, and then I'll get you far away from here. Tom will never hurt you,"
"Where are we going?"
Draco wonders the same thing but he doesn't show it.
"I'll tell you when we land," he says instead, knowing he will need time to plan, "I will see you soon, okay? Stay safe for me,"
"Alight, Draco, I promise,"
As the phone clicks shut, Luna's breath catches in her throat and her eyes glaze over in a trance. Theo springs into action, tearing through his luggage to retrieve a pad of paper and a sharpened pencil. Harry watches in a mixture of revulsion and fascination as Luna's hand moves with feverish speed, sketching out every detail of his old ballet studio with an unnatural precision. The scratching of pencil against paper echoes in the room like a haunting melody, sending shivers down Harry's spine.
"Do you recognize this place?" Theo asks noticing Harry's look of apprehension.
"It's where my father taught me to dance," Harry says not adding them when he was still alive.
"Is it near anything?" Theo asks his voice hard with worry as he watches Luna finish the drawing and set down the pencil.
"My parents' old house, but I stopped going there years ago when I moved to Forks with the Dursleys. When Sirius got cleared of all charges he bought a house on the other side of the city and I started going to a studio near his house,"
Theo doesn't say anything for a minute, his amber eyes flashing over the picture as if looking for clues.
"Maybe it is a mistake," Harry says in a hesitant voice.
"Luna doesn't make mistakes," Theo growls, and Harry jumps back.
He has forgiven Theo for threatening to hurt him in front of Draco, but he still doesn't quite feel comfortable around him yet.
"Theo," Luna growls and Theo immediately looks contrite.
"Harry it is getting late, why don't you go lay down for a bit, we can discuss this when we get back with food for you," Luna says in a calm voice.
Harry nods in consent, avoiding Theo's eyes as he retreats to the bedroom.
As he shuts his door, the phone that Luna used to call Draco buzzes in his hand and he blinks in surprise as Sirius's number flashes across his phone.
"Sirius?"
"Harry? Harry? Harry? Where are you?" Sirius's voice sounds on the other side of the speaker sounding more panicked every time that he says Harry's name.
"I don't know what the Dursleys told you but I am fine," Harry says in a calm voice trying to reassure his frantic godfather, "Why don't you get Remus and I'll explain what's going on,"
"That might be a little difficult Harry, seeing as your dear, godfather is with me at the moment,"
Harry's blood freezes as he hears Tom's voice on the other side of the speaker.
"Tom leave him alone! Don't hurt him! It's me you want!"
"But you're not here, my dear Harry, are you?" Tom taunts in a smooth voice, "It's just me and your darling godfather,"
"I-I'll come to you, please just don't hurt him," Harry begs.
Tom hums as he considers Harry's offer, "You will need to lose your loyal bodyguards if you have any chance of your godfather living,"
"I can do it!" Harry says with belief he doesn't feel.
Tom's laugh is harsh, scraping against Harry's bones as he grips the phone tighter.
"I want you to go to your old ballet studio. You were such a darling little dancer, just like Regulus. Better hurry, I have little patience and I would hate to have to hunt down your darling vampire after I dispose your godfather if you fail to follow my orders," Tom says in a snide voice before hanging up.
The opening of the bedroom door causes Harry to jump.
"Harry, are you alright?" Luna asks in a worried voice a take-out box in her hand.
"Yes, sorry my godfather called. He wanted to come home and I needed to convince him to stay put,"
"That must have been hard," Luna says in a sympathetic voice.
"I've done harder," Harry says thinking of leaving Draco, thinking about how he is about to do it again.
"Well, Theo found a place that sells Monte Crisco, so eat up we leave for the airport in an hour," Luna says handing him the box.
"A few minutes?" Harry asks confused.
"Draco's plane lands in two hours, then he, Severus and you will go somewhere else where James will never find you,"
As the realization sinks in, Harry's heart shatters into a million pieces. The thought of never seeing Draco again feels like a physical weight crushing his chest. But he refuses to let his emotions consume him, knowing he must remain strong for Sirius and for Draco's safety. With a forced calmness, he takes a huge bite of his sandwich, ignoring Luna's curious gaze as he desperately tries to hold himself together.
"Your heart rate is highly elevated," Luna says, "You know we will keep you safe right?"
"I know, I am just excited to see Draco," Harry lies.
Luna nods still looking unsure as she stands up, she opens her mouth to ask another question but Harry cuts over her.
"Luna, could I have a pen and paper? I wanted to write Draco a letter. I know it's silly but it just feels like the sort of gesture he would appreciate,"
Luna's face clears up and she leaves the room, coming back with the same pad of paper she used to draw Harry's old ballet studio.
"I think Draco would like that," Luna says with a smile as she leaves the room again.
Harry pushes aside the takeout box knowing he will not be able to stomach any more food and uncaps the pen setting it against the blank page. He doesn't know how to encompass everything he feels for Draco in one small letter, but he has to try because this is his last chance to tell him.
Mon ange,
You are always saying how recklessly brave I am. How I stretch myself too thin for those I love. You are right. It must somehow be sewn into my DNA because I don't know how else to show that I love someone than by giving them my everything. Knowing that it's not surprising that I am willing to sacrifice myself for those I love as well.
Tom has Sirius, Draco and his price is simple. My life for yours and Sirius's.
So though I am just a mere human and knowing you will hate me, I don't see any other option. You've given me the best year of my life, I will treasure our every moment together, for as long as I am allowed to live. I should have said it sooner, but despite all my supposed bravery I was scared, but it doesn't make my words now any less true. I love you.
Yours,
Harry
As Luna reenters the room, Harry is already prepared to leave, his belongings neatly packed and hidden away. The remnants of their takeout meal have been discreetly disposed of in the bathroom's garbage can. Harry trails behind Luna and Theo as they make their way down to the lobby, secretly slipping a letter into Luna's bag amidst the chaos. As they wait outside for their ride to arrive, Harry gazes up at the dark, glittering expanse of stars above them, wondering if he will ever have the chance to see them again.
With a relieved sigh, Draco makes his way through the bustling airport terminal, grateful to finally be off the torturous muggle contraption he had just endured. To him, it felt more like traveling by port key than flying on a broom. His eyes dart from person to person, scanning their thoughts in search of even the slightest glimpse of Harry. He can't seem to shake off the feeling of being consumed by thoughts of him, especially during the long and uneasy plane ride. Even when a flight attendant accidentally cut her finger while using scissors, it was Harry's steady presence that kept Draco grounded and calm.
Harry? Harry?!
Luna's frantic thoughts flood Draco's mind, a tidal wave of fear and desperation. He sprints towards her, his nostrils flaring as her scent becomes stronger and more urgent. Severus follows closely behind, his expression tight with concern as he senses Draco's growing anxiety. Finally reaching Luna, she paces back and forth in front of the men's bathroom, Theo by her side holding a piece of paper with a white-knuckled grip. Without hesitation, Draco crashes into him, ripping the letter from his grasp and immediately inhaling Harry's unmistakable scent. His heart plummets as he reads the words on the page, each one like a crucio to his heart. He reads it again, hoping it will somehow change, but it remains the same.
Distantly he hears Luna, sobbing the only way a vampire can into his ear, pleading for his forgiveness but all he can see is her last image of him playing in repeat in his head like a broken record. Of Harry going into the bathroom and never coming out.
Harry throws a wad of cash at the cab driver, barely acknowledging his confusion. He stands in front of his old ballet studio, feeling like a trapped animal as he waves off the driver's questions. The pounding of his heart against his chest intensifies with every passing moment, knowing that this is not just a chance encounter but a calculated decision that will lead to his demise. As he takes the final steps towards the entrance, his entire body trembles with fear and adrenaline. Inside, Harry knows he is no match for the cold, calculating hands that grab him and pull him into the dark hallway. He struggles against their unyielding grip, but it's futile as they drag him past pictures of his former idols.
As Harry's eyes adjust to the darkness, he realizes with a sinking feeling that the figures surrounding him are all too familiar. Their faces bear a striking resemblance to the men who had ambushed him in the alleyway, but now their features are twisted into grotesque masks of cruelty. Their red eyes burn like fire and their icy breath sends shivers down Harry's spine. They leer at him with sadistic pleasure, hungrily anticipating his fear. His limbs are held in a vice-like grip as they drag him to the largest studio room, throwing open the door with such force that it slams against the wall and echoes through the cavernous space. Harry's heart races as he sees Sirius's terrified face, wondering if he miscalculated, but knowing he still would have done the same thing for the chance to save him.
Harry's vision blurs as he frantically assesses his godfather's injuries, relieved to find that while he is bruised and battered, he is still in one piece. But before he can fully process this information, Sirius' shout jolts him back to reality. Sirius strains against the ropes that bind him to the chair, but he is unable to stop the men that overpower Harry and thrust him into Tom's waiting arms. The cold touch of Tom's hand on his skin sends a shiver down his spine, yet he finds himself unable to resist as Tom leads him in a twisted waltz across the room, a mere pawn in his deadly game.
"Don't try and fight me, Harry," Tom says in a sweet voice, "Not that you or any human can. Your pathetic kind always seems to fall prey to my powers. It almost always takes to fun out of the hunt and I have to come up with little games like this to amuse myself. It is why this is bigger than just you, Harry. If you were a regular human I probably would even have left you alone, though you smell divine and it was amusing to watch my supposed competition dissolve into a fit over you. So you shouldn't take any offence when I kill you," Tom says, his pale white hand moving up to stroke the side of Harry's face.
Harry's body quakes with fear, his muscles frozen as he is pulled into Tom's magnetic and inescapable orbit.
"It began long ago when your godfather and I were just boys," Tom says in a conversational voice as he continues to sweep Harry across the floor with effortless moves, "I was adopted you see, by a rich family who could not produce an heir. They gave me everything I could ever want as long as I married a woman of their choosing and gave them grandchildren,"
"That was all well enough for a while, I didn't foresee myself falling in love, that was at least until I met Regulus," Tom admits with a breathtaking smile.
"There was only one family that my adopted parents allowed me to associate with. The Blacks were a respectable family with two boys close to my age, Sirius and Regulus. Sirius, I dismissed as forgettable enough," Tom drawls and Sirius makes an offended noise through his gag.
"But Regulus," Tom says, a crazy obsessed look overtaking his face, "Regulus was different,"
"The way he moved when he walked, the joy that lit up his face when he perfected a ballet move, the soft cadence of his voice when he spoke, he kept drawing me in until he was all I could see,"
Tom's hand grips Harry's hip possessively, pulling him in so close that their bodies meld together. His nose presses against Harry's pulse point, eliciting a shiver from him. A brief thought of guilt for betraying Draco with this intimacy sneaks into his mind, but Tom quickly crushes it with a flick of his power in Harry's mind.
"We became inseparable, we joined all the same clubs, studied together after school, and read all the same books. I braved a kiss after driving Regulus home from his first homecoming dance and from there our secret relationship blossomed. It was perfect, much too perfect to last. The Swans moved to Forks during the start of my senior year of high school, bringing nothing but terror and misery,"
Sirius shoots a baleful glare at Tom and growls through his gag, but Tom doesn't even bother to look at him.
"James was different than me. His parents placed no expectations on him. Showering him with love and acceptance no matter what path the buffoon chooses," Tom sneers, his voice choked with bitterness, "He wore his queerness proudly kissing every boy who would have him in broad daylight uncaring of the consequences,"
Tom's lips devour Harry's skin, leaving a trail of fiery kisses up his neck. As Tom's teeth graze against him, eliciting small moans from Harry's lips, he can't help but writhe in ecstasy in Tom's arms. Despite the shame of Sirius seeing him like this, Harry is powerless to resist as Tom's hands roam over his body, igniting every nerve with a scorching desire.
"Regulus hated him for it, complained about him for hours, until it felt like it was all he talked about. But I didn't realize that it would get so much worse. Soon Swan set his eyes on my Regulus until he fell deeply in love with him," Tom growls, his fists clenched into fists.
"I convinced myself it was a phase that Regulus would wake up and come running back to me, but I knew it was over when Regulus kissed James in front of the school one day,"
Tom grips Harry's hair in his fist, pulling back until their faces are inches apart. He crashes his mouth against Harry's, plunging his tongue deep into the other man's mouth with a desperate hunger. Harry's eyes water as Tom's rough kisses bruise his lips and his body responds with a conflicted mix of pleasure and revulsion. Tears stream down his face as he fights the urge to push Tom away, conflicted by the intense physical sensation and the sense of betrayal that leaves him gasping for breath as Tom pulls back.
"His parents were furious. Disowned both of them, but it didn't stop James. No James had it all, he moved to Phoenix with his little band of misfits once Regulus graduated. I thought I would never see them again, but then this gift of vampirism was gifted to me and I knew I would have my revenge,"
Tom's smile twists into a dark grin as he looks down at Harry's kissed bruised lips. With a cruel glint in his eye, he moves the hand that was caressing Harry's hips to his leg and strokes his finger once over the limb. With the smile never leaving his face, Tom then viciously snaps Harry's leg with a sickening snap, seeming to relish in the satisfying crunch of bones breaking under his touch and the scream that leaves Harry's lips.
"It took nothing at all to bribe the bartender to slip something into Sirius's drink on a night when he was at the bar, or to make sure it was on the same night as Reggie and his darling husband James were on the way to take darling little Harry to ballet practice. Nor did it take much convincing for a very out-of-it Sirius to let me drive him home in his car. The tricky part was hitting Regulus's car. I didn't want to hurt him you see, but James, well it was quite easy to drain James once the crash incapacitated him. He was dead upon impact and Regulus, well he smelled of such delicious sadness, especially when he saw me eyeing you Harry, cutting open his wrists so that I went after him instead of you," James says, his slender, graceful fingers picking up Harry's wrist and bringing it his slips to tenderly kiss it.
Tom whispers into Harry's skin, "Drinking from Regulus gave me time to think, to think about how much fun it would be to let my little prey think he escaped, then hunt him once he grew older and looked just like James. It would be like killing him all over again. So I waited and watched as you grew up becoming a delicious combination of your parents."
Tom's teeth sink into Harry's wrist, puncturing deep holes that release a searing pain, almost feeling like acid coursing through his veins. His leg throbs in agony, but it pales in comparison to the intense burning sensation spreading throughout his body like wildfire. Tom laughs at Harry's cries of pain and throws him across the room, causing him to the ground with a dull thud. Harry, hears Sirius cry for him, but the sound comes to him as if he is underwater the world narrows down to the pain coming from his wrist.
Tom's lips curl into a sadistic grin as he towers over Harry, his eyes scanning every inch of the cowering boy's trembling form. Harry tries to shrink even further into himself, ignoring the searing pain in his broken leg and burning wrist. But Tom's red-eyed gaze is relentless, stalking closer and closer until he crouches down beside Harry, pressing down on his ribs with a heavyweight. Harry can't hold back a scream as Tom's touch shatters more bones within him. And then, with a cruel flick of his tongue, Tom traces the wound on Harry's wrist, causing fresh waves of agony to shoot through his body.
"You make a perfect sacrificial Odette, Harry, you look just like a swan with a broken wing, just like your father before he killed himself to save you,"
A deafening crash shatters the stillness as a blur of movement slams into Tom, tearing Harry's wrist from his grasp. In a daze, Harry watches in disbelief as Draco and Tom engage in a fierce battle, their forms blurring in and out of sight as they smash each other into walls and the ground, ripping at each other's clothes with savage ferocity. The air crackles with the energy of their hatred and desperation, a chaotic dance of violence that threatens to consume them both.
Harry's mind swirls with fear and confusion as a massive grey wolf bursts through the delicate ballet doors, its glowing yellow eyes piercing into his soul. With lightning speed, it charges towards Sirius who is surrounded by the two bloodthirsty vampires. The wolf's powerful jaws snap shut around one of their heads, tearing it off in a spray of stone. Harry watches in terror, unsure if this is all just a twisted hallucination or a horrific reality unfolding before him. The distraction only lasts moments though before he falls under the influence of the searing pain once again.
Draco falls to the ground beside Harry's writhing form, his heart-wrenching with distress. Harry's face twists in agony, his lips pressed tightly together in a desperate attempt to contain his tortured screams. Draco gently brushes his fingers against Harry's cheek, trying to comfort him, but Harry flinches as if anticipating a blow. Quickly, Draco withdraws his hand, not wanting to cause any further pain.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry." he chants in a flurry of nerves.
He longs for the easy solution of his wand or his vial of potions, still feeling at a loss without his magic. Harry's eyes crack open and then widen, battling between surprise and delirium.
"Are you an angel?" Harry asks in a hoarse whisper.
Draco's heart sinks in his chest, he feels closer to a demon at the moment.
"It's Draco, love," he says in a soft coaxing voice.
Harry whimpers, "Draco?"
"Yes, sweetheart, I'm here. Everything will be okay now." Draco says, his voice too pitchy to sound confident.
Though what was one more lie in the mountain he already told Harry. Harry grits his teeth and nods, seeming to come back to himself a bit and slide into the mask of the saviour. Draco opens the bag Severus handed him grabs what he affectionately thinks of as muggle pain potion and unscrews the lid. He's thankful that Severus thought to bring the version that does not act as a blood thinner because Draco sees too many cuts to risk using the other one. He cups the back of Harry's head and tilts his chin up, pouring the liquid down his throat. Draco leans forward, his eyes scanning, every inch of Harry's body looking at the damage. He sees small bleeding cuts from glass, various bruises on his head and arms, a broken leg, and broken ribs. Draco's frantic eyes rove around the area looking for something to brace Harry's leg the way he learned from Severus.
"Where does it hurt most, sweetheart?" Draco asks, trying to keep Harry awake and talking, in case he had a concussion.
"Everywhere." Harry mumbles.
He hisses in frustration ignoring Harry's weak protests as he gets to work on the obvious damage. Draco pulls a medical cloth out of his bag and dabs it on the cut on Harry's forehead, trying to staunch the bleeding. The fabric soaks in seconds. He tosses it aside, moving to grab another one when Harry speaks again.
"Fire! My wrist is on fire!" Harry cries, his voice breaking into a scream at the end.
With a careful hand, Draco picks it up and turns it over, his vision clouding with red as he sees the angry bite mark, cut into Harry's skin. The hands holding Harry's wrists start to tremble as fear crashes in around Draco. Harry didn't want to be a vampire, he was happy as a human growing up with his friends and family. He didn't want to drink blood. He didn't want to become a monster. Fate never listened to what Harry wanted. Draco clenches his teeth in frustration and knows that if his body allowed him he would be crying right now.
"Severus! Help!" Draco screams feeling hysteria set in.
Harry's grunt of pain brings him back to reality, his eyes meeting the boy his actions put here.
"Draco, are you okay?" Harry asks in a whisper, trying to hide his nerves, trying to look strong.
Always the saviour even when he is the victim.
"Everything's fine, sweetheart," Draco says in a distracted voice.
A litany of swear words, leave his Godfather's as he kneels down on Harry's other side taking in the damage.
"Luna, bring me something to brace his leg." Severus snaps, rifling through his own bag.
A loud crack echoes through the room as Luna rips Tom's head off and tosses it into the bonfire with the other vampires that Pansy, Blaise, and Theo constructed. The wolf prowls around the edge of everything, never moving far from Harry's godfathers side. She blurs around the room, pulling wood from the floor and darts back handing it to Severus. She kneels at Harry's head, reaching out to brush tears from Harry's eyes.
"I gave him something for pain, but…He bit him." Draco growls.
Luna gasps in shock, her face distressed. Severus pauses in his rifling, something strange flashing behind his eyes, when they meet Draco again there is something different in them. Something hard and determined. A new awareness that wasn't there before. Draco feels a small part of him relax. When Severus gets that look in his world, worlds are moved.
"What do I do?"
"Help Luna, Draco brace his leg," Severus says, readying a needle to stitch the cut bleeding on Harry's forehead.
Draco straightens Harry's leg as gently as he can, ignoring Harry's yelps of pain, as he remembers his godfather's lecture on this.
"Draco, please, please, it hurts, make it stop Draco, please." Harry cries.
"Hold on just a few more minutes, love," Draco whispers hoping he is not lying.
"You're going to have to bite him, son," Severus says in a level voice.
Draco looks at him with helpless shaking hands.
"Severus…"
Harry keeps up his plaintive cries, each one getting louder and louder, cutting Draco's heart worse than the sharpest shards of glass. He starts withering, forcing Draco to hold him down.
Harry falls silent, his body going rigid like the dead. He releases an inhuman scream, cutting through the hiss and crackle of the fire.
"Severus, what the hell is going on?" Draco asks in a panic.
Severus looks up with a look of cynical concentration on his face, his hands paused on Harry's forehead.
"He's changing into a vampire. You need to bite him, Draco." Severus says in a cold emotionless voice.
"Will that work?" Luna asks, her eyes calm despite the chaos of the situation.
"Yes, vampires are possessive creatures, if their claim on their prey is challenged they burn through the encroaching venom, resulting in the elimination of the original parasite as well."
"Die rather than accept defeat," Draco mumbles suspecting Harry would agree with such a sentiment.
Draco slips his thin fingers around the fine-boned wrist, bringing it to his mouth with trepidation, his lips kissing the marred skin. Harry falls limp, his eyes fluttering closed. The picture of his mother's devasted face as he takes the mark flashes before his eyes, followed by his father's as he removes his memories. His family for the better or the worse. All he has in the world. The only ones who love him.
Or so he thought.
"If you're going to do it, do it now." Severus hisses and Draco only hesitates a second more before his teeth plunge down.
As Harry's blood burns down his throat Draco expects to lose himself in a hungry haze, to need to fight for control, instead a flurry of images and feelings assault his mind, filling his insides with a warm glow.
Draco's arms cradling him after the car crash, keeping his body from the cold ground. Afterwards all but dragging him to Draco's car and taking him to the hospital.
Draco insisting he drive him home after the blood test and allowing him to talk about the real Sirius.
Draco saving him from the monsters who tried to kill him in the alley.
Draco carrying him as they fly through the trees.
Draco kissing him in a field of flowers.
Each image lasts no more than a second but each explodes in him in a shower of emotion. When Harry's blood runs clean from the filth that Tom injected in him, Draco disentangles his mouth from the cut, letting Harry's wrist rest in his lap. Draco feels a curious blank, as he regards Harry's sleepy face, watching as he breathes in a slow restful rhythm.
He loves me.
He knows Harry told him in his sleep and in the letter but for some reason, it didn't register with Draco that Harry meant it. It felt too much like a scene from a storybook to be real. That someone like Harry could love someone like him. Severus sprays Harry's wrist with disinfectant and wraps it in cotton and gauze, sealing it with medical tape.
"We need to leave. We have done everything for him that we can. He needs a hospital." Severus says in a sharp voice gathering his supplies and putting them back in his bag.
Draco scopes Harry's prone body into his arms, cradling him against his chest, savouring the warmth that he came so close to losing. Harry stirs his eyes blinking, tiredly.
"Draco, I'm sleepy," Harry says, cuddling his face against Draco's shoulder.
"Sleep sweetheart, I've got you," Draco says.
"I know," Harry says in a drowsy voice a sweet smile spreading on his face.
He looks down at him, this impossible, brave human who has no reason to trust him much less like him, and feels content to sleep in his arms. He tightens his grip on Harry as he bends down and brushes his lips to his forehead, careful to avoid the bandages.
"I love you," Draco whispers into his skin, so quiet he wonders if Harry even hears him.
