What if everything we see is just fiction
What if every night we wake up in someone else's body and everything is just a dream
What if none of its real and all we're doing is for nothing
By Krewella
The club is a cavern of shadows, punctuated by pulsating strobe lights that fracture time into staccato moments. Harry's eyes lock onto Draco's golden ones across the dance floor, a jolt of electric desire surging through his body. His world narrows to the man before him, heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. A silent challenge passes between them as Draco's eyes gleam in the lights, a beacon in the chaos that both terrifies and enthralls Harry.
You've got the devil on your shoulder
A sly smirk curls Harry's lips, masking the chaos of emotions swirling within him. He begins to move, his lithe body swaying to the rhythm, each motion a attempt to channel the confusing energy sparking through him. Draco matches his steps, oozing confidence and stoking the fire of Harry's conflicted desire.
Their bodies move in a slow, seductive dance, each step calculated and precise. They circle each other like predators, their gazes locked in a battle of wills that leaves Harry breathless and dizzy. The atmosphere between them is charged with an electric energy, crackling and pulsing with every movement. Draco inches closer, his breath cold against Harry's skin, sending shivers of both anticipation and arousal down his spine. Harry spins away with a wicked grin, heart racing as the lights flicker and die, leaving them alone in the dark, where his vulnerabilities feel momentarily hidden.
You better shut your mouth just like I told you
The strobe lights capture the intensity of their movements in frozen snapshots, each one revealing a secret side of them that they would rather hide. One moment, Draco's hand reaches out; the next, everything falls to darkness as his body arches away, only to be illuminated again as their fingers intertwine in a desperate grasp for control. Harry's emotions spiral with each flash, desire and fear battling for dominance in his chest.
A flash of light catches Draco's golden eyes, making them burn like two embers in ashes. Harry's breath catches, a wave of longing threatening to drown him.
You've been controlling me through fiction
Then blackness swallows him whole, only for another strobe to illuminate the sharp planes of his face, his blonde hair a halo of white fire, his moon-bright exposed collarbones a canvas for dancing shadows. Harry's fingers itch to touch, to claim.
It's obvious, I've got to break you-
The next, Draco is a figment of blurred edges and fractured lines, pulsing like a trembling heartbeat, a living silhouette breathing out only wavering darkness. It leaves Harry feeling lost in the chaos, anchored only by Draco's gaze, which never leaves his.
like a bad addiction
Harry moves closer, their bodies now mere inches apart. The contrast between them feels intense, their breath mingling in the small space separating them. Draco's hand finds Harry's waist, dragging him in, and Harry's skin burns at the touch, a conflagration of desire and nerves. Harry's fingers trail up Draco's chest, resting on his shoulder, trembling slightly.
Oh, I can't say no
They collide and crash against one another through a labyrinth of light and darkness in a deadly game of unveiling and masking. Each burst of exposed skin, every flicker of raw emotion, is a dangerous revelation swallowed by the shadows. Harry's heart pounds erratically, his mind a whirlwind of lust.
I'm having bad dreams
In the pitch-black intervals, Harry's senses heighten, his nerves singing with tension. The chill of breath on skin. The brush of fabric. The electric tingle of near touches. Then light explodes again, revealing new tableaus of their evolving dance, each snapshot searing itself into Harry's memory with frightening intensity.
I'm losing control
A strobe catches Draco mid-turn, his profile sharp against the darkness, muscles taut under pale skin, Harry's face reflected in his eyes. Blackness descends, and Harry gasps, feeling suddenly unmoored in the void.
And nothing you can do will keep the-
Flash
A younger Draco sneers at him, in fancy clothes, on a stool in front of a three-sided mirror.
Bad things away from me until I fall asleep
Darkness
Draco the same age confidently offering Harry his hand.
Bad dreams, despite your good intentions
Flash
That same hand, holding a wand pointed at him as a snake falls out of it.
The girl is like an architect
Darkness
Draco towering over him as his foot slams into his nose.
I am just a new invention
When light returns, Harry is pressed against Draco, his head tilted back, throat exposed. With another blink of darkness, they are apart again, the space between them charged with tension. Harry's skin tingles when Draco touches him, desire warring with a growing sense of wrongness.
You've got to choose between your faces
The crush of bodies around them appears and disappears with each flash, and faces emerge from the dark, unfamiliar and ghostly, only to vanish an instant later. Harry's heartbeat accelerates, claustrophobia setting in as the faces blur into a nightmarish carousel.
Harry's breath catches, his movements faltering. He looks up at Draco, searching for... something.
Understanding?
Recognition?
Distrust?
His emotions churn, a maelstrom of conflicting impulses.
And now the room is getting quiet (shh)
In the pulsing light, Harry sees Draco's brow furrow with concern. Draco pulls him closer, and Harry lets himself be enveloped, desperately seeking an anchor in the storm of his mind. The physical contact both soothes and inflames him, comfort and unease twisting together in his gut.
Oh, what a shame
Their dance continues as a physical manifestation of the turmoil within Harry despite Draco's reassuring arms around him. Each movement is a battle between the magnetic pull he feels towards Draco and the growing dread that something is terribly wrong.
Nobody taught you how to read and riot
Flash
Draco's arm getting cut by a four-legged bird.
Oh, bless my soul
Darkness
Draco being punched by Hermione.
I'm losing control
Flash
Draco sneering at him across a room full of people.
I'm having bad dreams
Darkness
Draco spinning in strange clothing with a dark-haired girl, candles hanging from the ceiling of the ornate ballroom.
And nothing you do wil-
Flash
Draco holding onto Harry's hand as a dark-haired vampire laughs at him.
Darkness
Draco leaning over a large black pot, his face lost in concentration, strands of hair falling in his face.
Flash
Draco slamming into him trying to throw him off his broom.
Darkness
Draco being turned into a ferret and bouncing up and down by a one-eyed laughing man.
It's a miracle I'm standing
A hysterical giggle bubbles up in Harry's throat, quickly quashed by horror. With each strobe light, Harry feels more dizzying disorientation. He pushes Draco away as he stumbles back, his head swinging desperately around. The press of heat becomes too much as his breath comes in frantic pants. A face in the crowd morphs into a man with half-moon spectacles and twinkling eyes, another into a toad-faced woman with a pink hat, and another into a laughing skull stretched over with white skin. Panic claws at Harry's chest, his vision swimming as reality seems to fracture around him.
Draco's arms find him, crushing him against his cool chest. Harry clings tighter to his only constant in this shifting reality, torn between the desire to melt into Draco's embrace and the urge to flee from the maelstrom of confusing images and emotions.
You're dragging me back into having-
In a rare moment of extended illumination, Harry catches Draco's gaze and holds it. He sees a storm of emotions cross Draco's face - concern, guilt, indecision, and something deeper, almost like recognition. Harry's heart pounds, hope and fear tangling in his chest.
(bad, bad, bad, bad, bad)
"Draco," Harry whispers, his voice barely audible over the music, trembling with the weight of his confusion and fear,
"What's happening to me?"
He watches as Draco's expression shifts. For a moment, looking like he might speak, might offer some explanation. Harry holds his breath, desperate for answers, for anything to make sense of the chaos in his mind.
And nothing you can do will keep the-
Draco's face softens, and he pulls Harry close. The physical contact is both a balm and a torment.
"It's okay," Draco murmurs, his breath cold against Harry's ear,
"You're okay."
-despite your good intentions
But Harry is trembling now, the flashes of memory becoming too much to bear. As the song reaches its crescendo, the strobes intensify, each flash bringing a new fragment of impossible images:
I am just a-
Flash
Harry writing I must not tell lies in his blood.
Darkness
Disappearing into the pages of a book, as he drowns in ink.
Flash
Flying on a broom while a dragon is chasing him.
Darkness
Looking out through a window covered in bars.
The final note hits,
-NEW INVENTION
and the club plunges into darkness. In that suspended moment, Harry breaks.
A guttural cry tears through his chest, shattering the silence as Draco hoists him up and carries him away from the dance floor. Harry squeezes his eyes shut, shoving his face in Draco's shoulder, trying to block out the images and fear that threatens to consume him. His body shakes with sobs, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions.
"Harry, you can open your eyes now," Draco breathes in a quiet voice.
Harry blinks as the lights slowly invade his pupils, his vision swimming. When it clears, Harry searches Draco's face, desperate for answers. He sees pain there, and guilt, quickly masked by a gentle smile. Draco's arms tighten around him, solid and real amidst the chaos of Harry's mind.
"Draco," he chokes out, tears streaming down his face, voice raw with emotion. "Am I going crazy?"
"Oh, sweetheart," Draco whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
Harry buries his face into the crook of Draco's neck, desperate for comfort he finds in his touch. He clings to him as if scared he will disappear, his body wracked with violent sobs that threaten to shatter him. Draco's hand glides soothingly over his back, a steady presence amidst the chaos, as they sway to the melody that echoes through the walls.
"Of course not," Draco croons, his hand digging harder into Harry's back.
And if, when Harry finally lifts his head, he catches a fleeting expression of guilt on Draco's face before it is replaced by a reassuring smile... well, that is probably just another trick of the light. Isn't it?
"Draco are you guys okay?" Hermione asks as she opens the door of Severus's white serial killer van, Blaise's name not his and climbs in.
She settles into the row of seats in front of him, hooking her chin on back of the seat. Harry's head stirs in his lap, but with a few gentle strokes of Draco's hand through his hair he settles down. Draco forces a smile on his face as he meets her inquisitive all knowing gaze.
"Yes, we are fine," he whispers and glances down at Harry with endearing smile, "Someone just got a little worn out."
"Oh because Pansy said that she thought she saw-"
Hermione's eyes flicked towards the window just before Pansy burst through the door and crawls inside. As soon as she lays eyes on Hermione, a dopey grin spreads across her face, one that Draco knew she would never show while sober. It is a mix of excitement and mischief, like a child who has just pulled off a successful prank. Her hair is slightly disheveled from her dancing, but it only adds to the carefree aura emanating from her.
"So, this is where you ran off to poppet," Pansy croons to Hermione leaning in to give her a sloppy kiss.
She is aiming for the bushy haired girl's lips but she ends up closer to her cheek in her imbalance. Hermione turns a alarming shade of pink under her cool lips. Draco grimaces as venom burns down his throat and the smell of parchment paper and ink increases in the car. He shrugs it off with ease. It is tempting but it does not hold a candle to scrumptious smelling thing snuggling against him.
"Hmmm, you smell so good…"Pansy groans, her face rubbing against the crook of Hermione's neck.
Draco leans forward ready to grab her and hold her back as he sees a flash of teeth, but Luna beats him to it, yanking Pansy out of the still open door. Pansy gives Luna a disoriented look and Luna beams at her.
"I think you should sit up front with me," Luna says.
Theo ducks in and settles next to Hermione, glaring back at Draco and muttering, "This is your fault,"
Draco scowls back at him.
"How is this my fault?"
"You gave him the idea and where there's Blaise, Pansy is always right behind. Even divorced those two are still a handful," Theo growls.
"Divorced?" Hermione asks confused.
Draco glares at Theo, but Theo just gives Hermione a charming smile and sends a wave of calm at her.
"It is just a turn of phrase, they were together for so long sometimes it felt like they were married. So now we joke that they are divorced,"
Hermione still looks wary, but she nods all the same. Blaise joins them in the car shortly after with a casual arm around Ron, whose face is as bright red as his hair. Ron was taking the revelation of his sexuality a little slower than Hermione. He was lucky Blaise was a patient lover.
"Where to next party people?" Blaise asks pulling Ron's shorter frame even closer against his chest.
"Home," Hermione says with a groan, "I have so much reading to catch up on,"
Ron gives Hermione a baleful look, "College isn't for another month away, why worry?"
Pansy in the front seat snorts and says in a cutting voice, "How you two ever thought you would work out is beyond me,"
Ron's fist clench and Blaise ushers him into the back seat next to Harry while Theo calms the air again.
"The same reason we thought we would work out," Blaise replies with a kind smile.
"Home, then?" Luna asks with a smile as she turns the ignition.
An hour later after Luna's dropped off Hermione and Ron, Luna parks the car in the garage. Draco waits until everyone else is out of the car before giving Harry a soft shake.
"Sweetheart, wake up we are here,"
Harry's bright green eyes blink open.
"Draco," Harry mumbles in a sleep heavy voice.
A gentle smile spreads over Draco lips as his pale fingers card through Harry's unruly locks. Alertness spreads through Harry's eyes as he registers where he is and what just happened.
"Did anyone else see me like that?" Harry asks in a tight voice, his face pressed into Draco's stomach, hiding it from view.
Draco sighs.
"Theo suspects something is wrong, but no one knows the real reason," Draco murmurs in a low voice.
Draco feels Harry relax against him and massages Harry shoulders for a minute.
It had been happening ever since the night of the dance, these moments confusion, of slips of reality. They usually only lasted a few seconds…
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry sneers, his voice as disdainful as Potter's, as his disgusted green eyes bore into him.
Draco freezes on top of him unsure how to respond. What did you say when your boyfriend recognised you for who you actually were instead of who you pretended to be.
"Mon ange?" Harry asks his voice tinted with exhaustion and confusion as the sneer fades away.
Harry's hole clenches around him in anxiety, as worry takes over his face as Draco continues to star at him in shock.
"Did I do something wrong?,"
Draco leaps into action, words of assurance poring out of him, "No! No, sweetheart. You were perfect."
Relief spills across Harry's face, quickly followed by a hint of mischief.
"So I was your good boy?" Harry asks with a smirk.
The sound of a opening door brings him out of his recollection, as he notices that the warmth in his lap has disappears. Harry looks over his shoulder at him in concern as he opens the car door wider. A smirk flits across Harry's face.
"Are you alight up there, Draco. It looked like I lost you for a second and at least one of us needs to be the sane one, don't you think," Harry says with a wink.
Draco hums in acknowledgement as he climbs out behind Harry, trying not to add this little episode to the growing tally in his head. The number was getting too high to focus on without feeling himself spiraling. Because with each new tally they seemed to be getting worse.
Without warning Draco sweeps Harry off his feet and delivers a quick kiss to his lips, cutting off Harry's shriek of surprise.
"I'm afraid that will have to be you. I'm simply bonkers for you and have no hope of recovering," Draco whispers as he twirls them around.
Harry smiles a dopey grin and replies, "Well, I suppose one of us has to be the responsible adult in this relationship. Though I'm not sure how qualified I am for the position."
He wraps his arms around Draco's neck, nestling closer as they continue to slowly spin in the garage.
"You know," Harry continues, his voice soft, "I rather like you being bonkers for me. It's quite flattering, really. And who needs sanity when we've got each other?"
Draco's heart swells at Harry's words, even as a nagging worry tugs at the back of his mind. He pushes it aside, focusing on the warmth of Harry in his arms, the familiar scent of his strawberry shampoo, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.
"Indeed, who needs sanity?" Draco agrees, his accent tinged with affection.
"Though I daresay we might need to actually enter the house at some point. Unless you fancy your godfather and his wolf coming to look for us?"
Draco tries not grimace about the fact that Remus and his cousin had all put moved in, refusing to take the hint that Sirius was more than healed enough to continue his tour. Draco worried soon they would start looking at houses in Forks.
Harry chuckles, the lightly hitting against Draco's chest in ritaliation for the wolf comment though Harry knew by now that Draco didn't say it malice like he had in the past.
"Mm, tempting as that sounds, I think I would prefer to avoid that."
Draco gently sets Harry back on his feet, but keeps an arm around his waist.
"Shall we brave the upstairs together? I find I'm rather disinclined to let you out of my sight."
"Yes, together," Harry agrees, leaning into Draco's side as they start walking towards the store entrance.
"And Draco? Thank you... for always being there to catch me when I'm falling. Literally and figuratively."
Draco ignores the spear of guilt that stabs him as he leans down and plants a kiss on Harry's temple, his voice warm with the only promise he felt safe making.
"Always, my love. Always."
As they enter the house, Draco can't help but tighten his grip slightly on Harry's hand. The memory of Harry's earlier confusion lingers, a shadow beneath the surface of their playful banter. But for now, in this moment, they're together, solid and real. And Draco is determined to savour every second of it.
Draco tucks Harry away in the bed they bought once he didn't need the hospital bed and then listens as he falls asleep, the hand wrapped around Draco's wrist falling limp. Draco gives Harry's temple a gentle kiss and then blurs out the glass door in his room, dropping gracefully to the forest floor. He runs for miles until he feels he is far enough away to safely drop his mask.
He sinks to the grassy ground. The wet from the earth soaked into his black jeans. His face falls into his hands as he lets the tremors take over. He isn't sure how he can take this anymore. Watching Harry slowly descend into insanity while the guilt chokes him.
"Are you going to tell me the truth now brother mine?" Theo says stepping out of the shadows.
Draco growls low in his chest.
"As I said last time Theo, there is nothing you need to know,"
Theo stalks around Draco's crouched form until he is glaring down at him with his hands on his hips.
"There is when he is a danger to the family. When you reek of guilt every time you are near him. When the human's emotions turn to static in time when the strobe lights,"
Draco freezes.
"What do you mean static?" Draco asks in a dangerous voice.
Theo looks thoughtful for a moment.
"It feels like a bad radio reception. Like for a moment your little human isn't tied into the fabric of this world anymore and his emotions are elsewhere. You could probably feel it to if you could actually read his mind,"
Draco scowls at the reminder.
"There's something just not right about him,"
"Harry is perfect," Draco snarls, "Don't let me ever hear you say that again."
Theo scoffs crude thoughts of Harry and Draco together going through his head.
"Stop thinking of him like he's my pet," Draco hisses through clenched teeth, "We've been together for a year he's not a temporary thing,"
"You've been a vampire longer than I have yet you still think like a human. When will you learn Draco that a year is like a day for us, passing in the blink of an eye? He is a dalliance,unless you turn him he will never be a part of us, he will only ever be a danger,"
"Tell that to Luna and see which ones of you she thinks should be put down," Draco growls.
Theo sighs, "I'm telling you because she's not listening to me. She won't see reason. Before human pet of yours, you used to be the one with the most reason. This human changed you. Made you reckless and sloppy,"
"It's called being in love!" Draco cries in irritation throwing his hands in the air.
"Whatever it is, it will be the death of us, Theo spits, "And your human will be at the center if it all,"
Draco remembers the broken look in Harry's eyes tonight, knowing what he would do to take that look away and can't help but think that Theo is right.
A week later, Harry wanders down the sauce aisle, pushing his shopping cart along with a gentle rhythm. The fluorescent lights above flicker erratically, casting an eerie glow over the shelves. As he scans the labels, Harry blinks in confusion. Where moments ago there were jars of marinara and alfredo, now strange glass bottles filled with shimmering liquids line the shelves. Labels like "Essence of Murtlap" and "Skele-Gro" catch his eye.
"What the..." Harry mutters, reaching for a bottle of red liquid. The world around him suddenly blurs as his fingers touch the cool glass.
Flash
A dimly lit train car. The smell of iron dripping out of his nose. A figure looming over him, with bright blonde hair.
Flash
Harry gasps, his hand jerking away from the bottle. It tumbles from the shelf, shattering on the floor with a crash that echoes through the store. Red liquid splatters across the linoleum, spreading like blood. Harry stumbles back, his heart racing as the floor beneath him begins to change. Linoleum gives way to soft earth, and gnarled roots burst through the cracks.
The aisle stretches impossibly long before him, the fluorescent lights replaced by an eerie, green glow filtering through a canopy of leaves. Trees sprout from the ground, their branches twisting and reaching towards him. The air grows thick with the scent of damp earth and decay.
"Well, if it isn't Potter, once again where he isn't supposed to be," a sneering voice cuts through the fog in Harry's mind.
He whirls around to see a tall figure rushing towards him, a dark cloak billowing behind them. The hood obscures their face, but Harry catches a glimpse of piercing eyes glinting in the shadows.
Harry feels a burst of pain in his head and throws his hand up to protect his face from the next blow.
"Stay back!" Harry shouts, stumbling backwards, tripping over an exposed root.
His hand gropes blindly on a nearby tree, closing around what feels like a wand. He brandishes it at the approaching figure.
"Leave me alone, Malfoy!"
The hooded figure stops short, confusion replacing the menace Harry was sure he'd seen seconds ago.
"Harry, it's me, sweetheart. Can you please tell me what's wrong?"
"YOU!" Harry shouts, "You are always what's wrong with me!"
The figure takes a hesitant step forward, hands raised placatingly. The movement causes the hood to fall back slightly, revealing a flash of golden hair.
"I said stay back!" Harry's voice cracks with fear. He waves the wand threateningly, his eyes darting around for an escape route. The trees seem to close in around him, branches reaching out like grasping hands.
"Hermione, send a patronus for the Aurors! Ron, get Headmaster Dumbledore!"
He remains frozen, wand raised, as shadows dance at the edge of his vision. Strange creatures skitter just out of sight, their eyes glowing in the darkness between the trees.
"Are you okay?" a disembodied voice echoes through the forest, sounding distorted and far away.
Harry's eyes dart around wildly, then back to the cloaked figure. His grip on the wand tightens, knuckles turning white.
"I... I don't..." he stammers, confused as to why Malfoy hasn't hexed him yet or used his Dark Mark to call for backup.
Suddenly, the trees part, and a large, silvery shape emerges. It resolves into the form of a man, glowing with an otherworldly light. He places himself between Harry and the cloaked figure, one hand raised in a placating gesture.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back," the ethereal figure says, its voice echoing strangely.
The cloaked figure takes another step forward and says in a pleading voice, "Please, there's been a misunderstanding. That's my boyfriend. I don't know what's wrong, but he needs help, not—"
Harry springs to his feet and jumps between the cloaked figure and the glowing man. "He's the dangerous one, not me!" Harry exclaims.
"Harry..." the cloaked figure says in a pained voice, sounding hurt.
The silvery man speaks again, his form flickering like a patronus. "Let's all calm down here. Sir, I'm going to need you to put down that... spatula."
Spatula? Harry takes another look at the wand in his hand and watches in confusion as it changes shape, the wood grain melting away to reveal smooth metal.
The forest around him seems to waver, trees fading in and out of existence. Glimpses of fluorescent lights and white tile floor peek through the undergrowth.
Harry's eyes dart between the silvery figure, the cloaked form, and the shifting landscape. His breathing is rapid and shallow, panic evident in every line of his body.
"I don't... I don't understand what's happening," he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper as tears leak from his eyes.
The cloaked figure moves with inhuman speed, darting around the glowing man so swiftly that he appears as nothing more than a blur. He then drops to his knees in front of Harry, lowering his hood to reveal a face that seems to shift between friendly concern and sneering hatred.
"Sweetheart, can you kindly lower the spatula?" the man asks in a gentle, soothing voice that Harry can't help but obey.
He slowly lowers his arm, feeling the tension drain from his body as he is lulled by the calming tone. The cool metal of the spatula glints in the strange, flickering light. The man carefully extracts the spatula from his clenched hand, his cool fingers taking the place of the handle as they intertwine with Harry's.
"There we go. Doesn't that feel better?" the man says softly.
As their hands touch, the forest melts away completely. The grocery store snaps back into focus, and Harry suddenly remembers where he is and who he is. Draco's familiar face comes into view, worry etched into every line. Harry glances away unable to look at him any longer and lands on the shattered jar of marinara sauce that lies forgotten on the floor, its contents slowly spreading in a red puddle that no longer looks like blood.
Harry's face flushes with embarrassment as he stumbles over himself to apologize. "Draco! I'm so sorry!"
Draco's face sags with relief as he yanks Harry to his chest, holding him there as tremors start to take over Harry's body. It reminds him of their position after the car crash that almost killed him or after that baseball nearly put a dent in his head.
As Harry clings to Draco, he can't help but wonder why it always seemed like he was crying when Draco held him.