Fic: Return
This is for olivia_lupin - one of the nicest people I have ever had the pleasure to know.
I miss you
R-rated. H/D. Unbeta-ed ... sorry about any mistakes. (Please do not archive this version.)
Return
The following ficlet is based loosely on the story Resolution and takes place approximately five years after Harry’s seventh year at Hogwarts. The war is over, but many of the antagonists are still alive and in hiding. Harry and Draco are still together and share a home in the middle of the county with two cats, away from the hustle and bustle of the Wizarding world. Harry has just had his 23rd birthday, but it wasn’t the happy occasion Harry had hoped for ... Draco has been missing for nearly a month and no one knows where he’s gone.
Part of this story takes great liberties with a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, a film I adore with a leading man I love. *sigh*
********************
The sun was hot. It beat down out of a hazy watery blue sky for the first time in weeks. Around the garden, everything was lush green, and the grass gave a little beneath Harry’s feet as he walked over the lawn. It needed cutting he decided, grateful for something else to take his mind off of things. Anything but having to spend yet another day wondering and waiting. He’d run out of options and waiting was now the only thing left.
Waiting and hoping.
He kicked at a pebble and watched as it skated across the grass and landed with a plop in a little puddle. This was, Harry considered, the worst time of his life. Worse than the war. Worse than having to face down Voldemort. Draco had been missing for almost a month and no one, not even the Aurors or Hermione’s band of agents, had any idea what had happened to him.
Harry dropped onto the swing he and Draco had fixed to the limb of one of the ancient oaks in the garden and forlornly pushed it back and forth enough to let it swing on its own. He remembered clearly that last evening he’d sat out here with Draco. It has been a Saturday ... the fifth ... and they’d had an exquisite day planning a birthday trip. Eurostar to Paris, an evening’s entertaining in the city’s Wizarding quarter and overnight at a quaint little hotel before a few days at an exquisite country chateaux. Draco had wanted to fly, but Harry had insisted on the train trip ... Muggle luxury as they crossed under the Channel.
They had been lounging in the garden, Harry still studying the maps and guidebooks while Draco watched. He knew Draco was watching him and it gave him a buzz that even after five years his lover still liked to just look -- the grey eyes would roam over him, and Harry would respond to the gaze ... moving a leg, or arching his shoulder. Sometimes ... well, most times Harry admitted to himself ... it would become more and more intimate until he knew Draco couldn’t resist any longer.
As they had relaxed in the garden on that lazy Saturday, Harry had great hopes of sex under the stars when the owl had arrived. It had fluttered into the oak tree, sitting there as though waiting for something. Draco had watched it for a long moment and Harry had seen the carefree expression on his face shift and change before the blond had come to his feet and said simply, “I won’t be long.”
Harry had risen, concern flashing through him at the strange attitude that had suddenly overtaken Draco’s mood, but his partner brushed past him and disappeared back around the house and out of sight. The owl had swooped from the tree, following after Draco.
By the time Harry had caught up, the owl was a speck in the sky, disappearing into the growing twilight and the piece of parchment in Draco’s hand was crumbling to dust.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, concern in his voice.
The only response to the question had been a slight shrug and a look devoid of emotion. “Nothing. Just something I need to sort out. Don’t worry about it.” Then his expression changed. The light returned to Draco’s eyes and he smiled. “Come on ... I want to have my wicked way with you.”
And he had, Harry remembered. Out there in the garden beneath the stars.
Now thinking back over that evening Harry could see that there had been a sense of urgency about Draco. He had spent ages just watching, holding still inside of Harry and looking at his face ... touching him as though trying to etch Harry’s features into his mind.
The next day Draco had packed as though going to work, kissed Harry goodbye and left.
When Draco hadn’t returned that evening, Harry hadn’t been unduly concerned, nor had he panicked when Draco didn’t return the next ... or even the night after that. Draco often stayed away, he was a busy man, but, Harry knew, the blond would always keep in touch, even if it was only a brief owl.
In the weeks that had followed, he’d looked everywhere and gone to anyone who might have information, but it was as if Draco had dropped off the face of the world. Hermione, who had agents everywhere and fingers in just about every single pie in the Wizarding world didn’t know either. She had dropped by earlier in the day with another pointless report and had told Harry that he should prepare himself for the fact Draco might not come back and “Harry, would you please come and stay with us...”
Harry kicked his feet out and let the momentum start the swing moving. He let it go faster and faster, his legs pumping as the arc increased ... higher and higher ... and eyes closed he concentrated, biting his lip. He wouldn’t cry ... mustn’t cry. Draco would come back. Wouldn’t Harry know if something had happened to him?
Tomorrow he would start looking again ... there were still favours he could call in....
“Harry...”
...Still people he knew in the underworld who could get information not available to the authorities....
“Harry...”
...Location spells he could try again....
“Harry love...”
Harry’s feet suddenly dragged on the ground, the momentum of the swing stopping so quickly it almost tipped him from the seat. Still holding onto the ropes, he gawped at the lone figure standing at the edge of the patio. His grip tightened on the ropes, the hold the only thing stopping him from falling to his knees. “Draco?”
The man stepped from the patio and onto the grass, and Harry finally let go of the ropes. Draco was wrapped in light, sand-coloured robes, a hood pulled over his head, and as Harry crossed the grass, he dropped the bag he’d been carrying to the ground.
It wasn’t far to where his lover stood ... maybe fifteen or twenty paces ... but it seemed liked an eternity. Harry was torn between wanting to throttle the man, to shout and scream at him, or just grab him for fear that he might disappear again.
As he finally reached the man, Harry threw himself forward, aware of a grunt of pain as he wrapped his arms around Draco, holding on for dear life. Arms enfolded him, fingers grasping at his hair, and Draco leaned in, his forehead pressing into the crock of Harry’s neck. “Where the fuck have you been?” Harry’s hand came to rest on the back Draco’s head, clasping at him through the thin material.
“I’m sorry.”
“You better bloody well be. By tomorrow you’re going to wish you hadn’t come back.” The grip around Harry tightened and he felt Draco press his head closer, the thin shoulder shaking a little. “You bastard ... do you know how scared I’ve been?” Harry clutched tighter, the hold turning desperate, as he rocked Draco.
“I’m sorry.”
Harry felt tears dampen his neck, and he finally took a step back, and pulled Draco’s face up so he could look at him properly. He gasped in shock as he saw bruises and a cut along one cheekbone. Hands pulled at the hood and tangled into the robe as he tried to find out where else the man was injured. “Draco, what happened?”
Untidy blond hair fell across Draco’s face, hiding the yellowing bruise of a black eye, and he hissed in pain as Harry tugged the robe from his shoulder. “I had some problems.” The voice was a whisper, the tone almost vacant.
“You’re a bloody idiot.” Harry gripped at Draco’s arm and steered him towards the house. “You need help. I’m getting you to hospital.”
“No ... no...” Draco dragged them to a halt. “Not that. I ... I just need a bath and a rest. Then tomorrow you can get a healer if you want one.” He looked beseechingly at Harry. “Please....”
Harry stared at Draco for a long time and then carefully reached for his lover’s face with his hands, he kissed the sad lips, gently ... carefully ... once ... twice. “Okay.”
This time there was no resistance as Harry led Draco into the house and to the huge bathroom. There, he set the bath filling and began to remove Draco’s clothes. The robe fell to the floor, quickly joined by the rest of his garments. Harry cast a critical gaze of the body he normally looked at in passion, and it hurt him to see the marks on his beloved’s skin. It looked like Draco had been beaten ... and with more than just fists.
He turned to a cupboard, almost unable to look as anger and frustration surged through him. He hated himself for the animosity he was currently feeling for the man he loved. Hated Draco for letting whatever had happened to him and hated himself for not being there to stop it.
Rummaging in the cupboard, Harry finally found what he wanted and steeled himself to turn back without shouting and screaming at Draco. But Draco was already in the bath, sitting upright, elbows on his knees, head downcast, hair obscuring his face.
“Draco...” As he stepped to the bath, Harry realised why Draco wasn’t lying back in the water. The pale skin on Draco’s back was criss-crossed by red weals. He dropped to his knees and with growing tenderness, gathered the trembling body into his arms. “Oh, Draco...” Then just as quickly he released his hold, a strange determined look on his face as he became very business-like. “Okay, I’m going to get my medical kit. This stuff...” He sprinkled the powder he’d found in the cupboard into the water. “This will help a bit, but you need more than that. It’s going to hurt, but you need to get under the water.” He got to his feet. “And then you are going to tell me what happened, or so help me I will use a memory charm on you.”
When Harry returned, Draco was, indeed, fully in the water. The man’s eyes were closed and remained so as Harry dropped back to his knees. Eyes flickered over the reclined body, taking in the visible injuries ... the black eye and bruised cheek, discolouration around ribs on Draco’s right side, yellow/black marks on his hip and thigh, and swollen fingers on his left hand leading to a forearm criss-crossed with lots of little cuts as if Draco had been dragged through a thorn bush. Harry looked closer, eyes narrowing as he realised that something else had been scratched into the surface. It looked like...
Like...
A Dark Mark?
He reached for the arm, pulling it from the water, only to have Draco try to tug away. Grey eyes flashed open and for a second Harry thought he saw fear in them.
“It isn’t what you think.” Draco pulled his arm protectively towards his body.
“I know.” Harry’s voice was quiet and he tried keeping it even. “Let me see.” He deliberately didn’t reach for the arm, but instead waited, hoping that Draco would show him without being pushed. Neither moved. “Please, Draco.”
“I need to tell you what happened first ... to explain.”
“Okay, tell me.” Harry reached out and began stroking Draco’s hair. “We’ve got time, love.”
“The message ... the one that owl brought...?” He looked at Harry, clearly waiting for an acknowledgement that the dark-haired man understand what he was talking about. Harry nodded. “It was from my father.” Harry’s only response was to pause briefly in his ministrations before continuing the rhythmic stroking. “He told me that he knew where we were and that if I didn’t go to see him, he’d destroy us both.”
“You’re an idiot.” Harry tugged slightly on the blond strands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought I could deal with it. And....” Draco’s eyes closed, his features tense, “despite everything he’s still my father. I thought I could talk to him and maybe come to a ... compromise, or some sort of closure.”
“How could he know where we are? The wards around here are almost as powerful as those at the Ministry and at Hogwarts.”
“Like you said, I’m an idiot. Of course he didn’t know. The owl found me because that’s what owls do, but they can’t be tracked. I ... I didn’t think and panicked about what he might do to you. When I finally met up with him I realised the truth ... he’d been trying to trace both of us and had absolutely no idea where the house is. That was what he expected me to tell him ... the location and the charms to disable the wards. At first he spent ages going on about Malfoy loyalty and then, when he’d decided that wasn’t going to work he changed tactics.” A little laugh spilled from Draco, its tone bitter, as grey eyes flickered to Harry. “He was quite ... forceful ... in his methods of persuasion.”
“He beat you?”
“No, he’s more subtle than that. Remember that quill Umbridge used on you?”
“How can I forget?” Harry’s hand clenched reflectively, a faint white scar still occasionally visible on the back from where Umbridge had made him cut over and over again into his skin ‘I must not tell lies’ in his own skin.
“My father has a quill like that. He made me draw lines on a piece of parchment and that’s where the marks on my back came from. Each day he made me drew over and over the same line on the parchment until he was satisfied the mark were deep enough.” Draco leaned into Harry’s hand. “And in case I didn’t think he was being serious, he let someone else play with the pen as well.”
“He’s with your father?” Harry couldn’t bear to say the name of the one person who’d betrayed him so badly and he shuddered reflexively.
Draco nodded. “Yeah. He did this.” Finally the arm was held out to Harry, water dripping from it. “He thought it would be funny to carve a Dark Mark into my arm.”
Carefully taking the arm, Harry towelled dry the pale skin and ran his fingers over the lines. “It’s not very deep you know. I don’t think it’ll mark permanently.”
“It would be brilliant wouldn’t it, to survive everything Voldemort threw at me and then have Weasel give me this scar.” His eyes met Harry’s and for a moment Harry thought his lover’s face with the saddest thing he’d ever seen.
“We’ll find something to get rid of it.” Harry’s fingers feathered over the skin and finally he pulled the limb to his mouth and kissed it, before resting his cheek briefly against the marked flesh. When he looked up again, he found Draco’s eyes fixed on him. “Did he make all the other cuts as well?”
Draco nodded. “And most of the bruises as well. He was not a happy person believe me. I managed to get away last...” Draco paused briefly and frowned as if trying to remember something. “What day is it today?”
“Wednesday.”
“It must have been Friday I think. I got away then, but it all seemed too easy and I was worried they’d let me go. I didn’t dare contact you or come here directly just in case they had some sort of tracking spells on me. I’m still not sure if I’m clear.”
Harry’s mouth twitched in a little smile. “I’ve checked. You’re clean.”
“That’s something.” Draco suddenly sat up, the water dripping and he reached for Harry, damp hands marking Harry’s clothes. “Harry, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t...”
“No, it was a stupid thing to do. But I thought...” Draco sighed. “I thought I might be able to end this once and for all. I want you to be safe and if I could make my father understand.”
“Draco....”
“I know, Harry, he’s not going to change is he?”
Harry shrugged. “He might ... let’s not write them off completely.”
Draco reached for Harry, pulling him close enough to finally kiss him. “Oh, Harry. Ever the Gryffindor.”
“And you’re Slytherin through-and-through. Come on, I need to get some healing salve on all those cuts and bruises.” Harry pulled Draco from the water and, once the man was standing, carefully dried him with a huge fluffy towel. When he’d finished, he lead him to their bed, where Draco eased himself down onto the cool sheets, groaning as the movement flickered pain through his system.
“You should see a healer, you’re a mess.” Harry sat on the edge of the bed
“Thanks, Potter, that makes me feel so much better.” Draco shifted slightly, the pressure on his back painful. “I’ll see someone in the morning. All I want to do now is sleep.”
“Does this help?” Harry cast a charm that removed the pressure and made it feel like Draco was floating on air.
“Oh yes.” His body limp, and eyes dropping closed, Draco sprawled comfortably. “That feels so good.”
“Okay, but drink this before you fall asleep.” He held out a small glass vial.
Draco’s eyes opened and he looked suspiciously at the contents. “What is it?”
“One of your healing potions.” Harry watched as Draco grimaced.
“Then it will probably taste awful.” Propping himself on an elbow, Draco took the vial and swallowed the liquid. He handed it back and managed a cocky grin. “That wasn’t bad ... sometimes I even amaze myself.”
“I bet.” Harry reached for the pot of healing salve. “This might sting a little ... at least it did when you used it on me.”
“Can’t you find something else?”
“Yeah,” Harry glowered at him. “A trip to the hospital.”
“Point taken.”
“Turn over ... I’ll start with your back.”
Draco slowly complied, hissing in a pained breath as he moved to lie on his front.
Harry began to rub the salve into the injuries, applying it as carefully as possible. He knew that the mixture would sting momentarily but that would disappear almost immediately, leaving in its wake blessed relief. Draco lay still, occasionally letting out a moan of discomfort, but no other complaints. Harry paid particular attention to the marks on his beloved’s back and arms, determined not to let Draco carry scars. Turning Draco onto his back, he continued with his ministrations and when he’d finally finished, Harry reached up to brush the fine blond strands of Draco’s hair from his face. Already the bruise on Draco’s cheek and eye was beginning to fade. He leaned down and carefully kissed his lover’s lips.
“How’s that?”
A sad little smile flickered over Draco’s face. “A bit better. But I’m aching in places I didn’t know I had.”
“Poor baby.” Still dressed, Harry laid beside Draco, propping himself up on one elbow. “Is there anywhere that doesn’t hurt?”
“A few places.”
“Such as?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.
Draco studied him for a moment before touching the tip of his finger to an area in his hairline just above his blackened eye. “Here.”
Harry looked at the finger for a moment before pulling it away. He leaned carefully over Draco, not touching him, and let his lips settle on the point. Taking his time, Harry kissed and licked at the area, before pulling away and meeting those grey eyes again. “Anywhere else?”
The long pale finger came to rest on the corner of Draco’s eye. “Here.”
Removing his glasses, Harry kissed the point and bestowed a series of little butterfly kisses along Draco’s cheekbone before once again looking at Draco and waiting.
Draco’s fingers lingered on his own mouth, where his lips waited slightly parted and expectant. “Just here.”
Harry sucked Draco’s bottom lip and held it there between his teeth, the pressure just the way he knew Draco loved it. He let his tongue glide over the trapped flesh before releasing it and moving in to kiss Draco, exploring that exquisite mouth completely, lovingly, until the moan rising in Draco’s throat was finally one of pleasure rather than pain. He touched the tip of Draco’s tongue with his own before pulling away, aware of Draco moving into Harry’s mouth, but he didn’t allow his lover the opportunity for his own exploration. Instead he pulled back and watched as Draco licked his full lips.
“Anywhere else, love?”
Draco fingers played briefly over his left nipple. “Here.”
For long minutes Harry just looked, almost mesmerised by the dark pink puckered skin. He could almost envisage it tightening just by his gaze upon it, but in the end he reached for it, lapping and suckling at the nub of flesh. As it became hard in his mouth, Harry could feel the growing glow of arousal spreading through his groin and he quickly tried to push the sensation away. He was doing this for Draco, not for himself. He moved quickly to Draco’s other nipple and worked that one to hardness as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Draco’s fingers clutch reflexively at the sheets.
He finally released the engorged nipple with an audible ‘pop’ and looked up at Draco again. This time neither spoke as Draco’s finger reached to his navel, briefly sliding inside before pulling away, the hand moving to rest on Harry’s head. Fingers curled into the black silk as Harry’s tongue pushed into the little hollow and as Harry sucked gently on the surrounding area, Draco arched into the touch.
“Oh, Harry...”
“Yes, Draco?” Harry pulled away with one last lick to the tender sweet tasting skin and looked up the long, lithe body to the grey windows of Draco’s soul. “What do you want, love?”
“I just need you to hold me.” Draco closed his eyes, tears squeezing through to hang momentarily on his eyelashes.
Harry choked back a little sob at the whispered words. Scrambling from the bed, he quickly stripped off his own clothes before returning to gather Draco carefully into his arms. They barely touched, Harry’s arm lightly around Draco as the blond head settled against his shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m okay ... I’ll let you know if you do.” Draco turned slightly, just enough to kiss Harry’s chin.
Magicking a sheet over them, Harry settled back, aware of the change in Draco’s breathing as he drifted into sleep. He would make his lover see a healer when he woke and then....
Expression hardening, Harry’s fingers tightening protectively around Draco’s shoulder.
Then Harry would end this ... once and for all.
---fin
15th September 2004
I miss you
R-rated. H/D. Unbeta-ed ... sorry about any mistakes. (Please do not archive this version.)
Return
The following ficlet is based loosely on the story Resolution and takes place approximately five years after Harry’s seventh year at Hogwarts. The war is over, but many of the antagonists are still alive and in hiding. Harry and Draco are still together and share a home in the middle of the county with two cats, away from the hustle and bustle of the Wizarding world. Harry has just had his 23rd birthday, but it wasn’t the happy occasion Harry had hoped for ... Draco has been missing for nearly a month and no one knows where he’s gone.
Part of this story takes great liberties with a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, a film I adore with a leading man I love. *sigh*
********************
The sun was hot. It beat down out of a hazy watery blue sky for the first time in weeks. Around the garden, everything was lush green, and the grass gave a little beneath Harry’s feet as he walked over the lawn. It needed cutting he decided, grateful for something else to take his mind off of things. Anything but having to spend yet another day wondering and waiting. He’d run out of options and waiting was now the only thing left.
Waiting and hoping.
He kicked at a pebble and watched as it skated across the grass and landed with a plop in a little puddle. This was, Harry considered, the worst time of his life. Worse than the war. Worse than having to face down Voldemort. Draco had been missing for almost a month and no one, not even the Aurors or Hermione’s band of agents, had any idea what had happened to him.
Harry dropped onto the swing he and Draco had fixed to the limb of one of the ancient oaks in the garden and forlornly pushed it back and forth enough to let it swing on its own. He remembered clearly that last evening he’d sat out here with Draco. It has been a Saturday ... the fifth ... and they’d had an exquisite day planning a birthday trip. Eurostar to Paris, an evening’s entertaining in the city’s Wizarding quarter and overnight at a quaint little hotel before a few days at an exquisite country chateaux. Draco had wanted to fly, but Harry had insisted on the train trip ... Muggle luxury as they crossed under the Channel.
They had been lounging in the garden, Harry still studying the maps and guidebooks while Draco watched. He knew Draco was watching him and it gave him a buzz that even after five years his lover still liked to just look -- the grey eyes would roam over him, and Harry would respond to the gaze ... moving a leg, or arching his shoulder. Sometimes ... well, most times Harry admitted to himself ... it would become more and more intimate until he knew Draco couldn’t resist any longer.
As they had relaxed in the garden on that lazy Saturday, Harry had great hopes of sex under the stars when the owl had arrived. It had fluttered into the oak tree, sitting there as though waiting for something. Draco had watched it for a long moment and Harry had seen the carefree expression on his face shift and change before the blond had come to his feet and said simply, “I won’t be long.”
Harry had risen, concern flashing through him at the strange attitude that had suddenly overtaken Draco’s mood, but his partner brushed past him and disappeared back around the house and out of sight. The owl had swooped from the tree, following after Draco.
By the time Harry had caught up, the owl was a speck in the sky, disappearing into the growing twilight and the piece of parchment in Draco’s hand was crumbling to dust.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, concern in his voice.
The only response to the question had been a slight shrug and a look devoid of emotion. “Nothing. Just something I need to sort out. Don’t worry about it.” Then his expression changed. The light returned to Draco’s eyes and he smiled. “Come on ... I want to have my wicked way with you.”
And he had, Harry remembered. Out there in the garden beneath the stars.
Now thinking back over that evening Harry could see that there had been a sense of urgency about Draco. He had spent ages just watching, holding still inside of Harry and looking at his face ... touching him as though trying to etch Harry’s features into his mind.
The next day Draco had packed as though going to work, kissed Harry goodbye and left.
When Draco hadn’t returned that evening, Harry hadn’t been unduly concerned, nor had he panicked when Draco didn’t return the next ... or even the night after that. Draco often stayed away, he was a busy man, but, Harry knew, the blond would always keep in touch, even if it was only a brief owl.
In the weeks that had followed, he’d looked everywhere and gone to anyone who might have information, but it was as if Draco had dropped off the face of the world. Hermione, who had agents everywhere and fingers in just about every single pie in the Wizarding world didn’t know either. She had dropped by earlier in the day with another pointless report and had told Harry that he should prepare himself for the fact Draco might not come back and “Harry, would you please come and stay with us...”
Harry kicked his feet out and let the momentum start the swing moving. He let it go faster and faster, his legs pumping as the arc increased ... higher and higher ... and eyes closed he concentrated, biting his lip. He wouldn’t cry ... mustn’t cry. Draco would come back. Wouldn’t Harry know if something had happened to him?
Tomorrow he would start looking again ... there were still favours he could call in....
“Harry...”
...Still people he knew in the underworld who could get information not available to the authorities....
“Harry...”
...Location spells he could try again....
“Harry love...”
Harry’s feet suddenly dragged on the ground, the momentum of the swing stopping so quickly it almost tipped him from the seat. Still holding onto the ropes, he gawped at the lone figure standing at the edge of the patio. His grip tightened on the ropes, the hold the only thing stopping him from falling to his knees. “Draco?”
The man stepped from the patio and onto the grass, and Harry finally let go of the ropes. Draco was wrapped in light, sand-coloured robes, a hood pulled over his head, and as Harry crossed the grass, he dropped the bag he’d been carrying to the ground.
It wasn’t far to where his lover stood ... maybe fifteen or twenty paces ... but it seemed liked an eternity. Harry was torn between wanting to throttle the man, to shout and scream at him, or just grab him for fear that he might disappear again.
As he finally reached the man, Harry threw himself forward, aware of a grunt of pain as he wrapped his arms around Draco, holding on for dear life. Arms enfolded him, fingers grasping at his hair, and Draco leaned in, his forehead pressing into the crock of Harry’s neck. “Where the fuck have you been?” Harry’s hand came to rest on the back Draco’s head, clasping at him through the thin material.
“I’m sorry.”
“You better bloody well be. By tomorrow you’re going to wish you hadn’t come back.” The grip around Harry tightened and he felt Draco press his head closer, the thin shoulder shaking a little. “You bastard ... do you know how scared I’ve been?” Harry clutched tighter, the hold turning desperate, as he rocked Draco.
“I’m sorry.”
Harry felt tears dampen his neck, and he finally took a step back, and pulled Draco’s face up so he could look at him properly. He gasped in shock as he saw bruises and a cut along one cheekbone. Hands pulled at the hood and tangled into the robe as he tried to find out where else the man was injured. “Draco, what happened?”
Untidy blond hair fell across Draco’s face, hiding the yellowing bruise of a black eye, and he hissed in pain as Harry tugged the robe from his shoulder. “I had some problems.” The voice was a whisper, the tone almost vacant.
“You’re a bloody idiot.” Harry gripped at Draco’s arm and steered him towards the house. “You need help. I’m getting you to hospital.”
“No ... no...” Draco dragged them to a halt. “Not that. I ... I just need a bath and a rest. Then tomorrow you can get a healer if you want one.” He looked beseechingly at Harry. “Please....”
Harry stared at Draco for a long time and then carefully reached for his lover’s face with his hands, he kissed the sad lips, gently ... carefully ... once ... twice. “Okay.”
This time there was no resistance as Harry led Draco into the house and to the huge bathroom. There, he set the bath filling and began to remove Draco’s clothes. The robe fell to the floor, quickly joined by the rest of his garments. Harry cast a critical gaze of the body he normally looked at in passion, and it hurt him to see the marks on his beloved’s skin. It looked like Draco had been beaten ... and with more than just fists.
He turned to a cupboard, almost unable to look as anger and frustration surged through him. He hated himself for the animosity he was currently feeling for the man he loved. Hated Draco for letting whatever had happened to him and hated himself for not being there to stop it.
Rummaging in the cupboard, Harry finally found what he wanted and steeled himself to turn back without shouting and screaming at Draco. But Draco was already in the bath, sitting upright, elbows on his knees, head downcast, hair obscuring his face.
“Draco...” As he stepped to the bath, Harry realised why Draco wasn’t lying back in the water. The pale skin on Draco’s back was criss-crossed by red weals. He dropped to his knees and with growing tenderness, gathered the trembling body into his arms. “Oh, Draco...” Then just as quickly he released his hold, a strange determined look on his face as he became very business-like. “Okay, I’m going to get my medical kit. This stuff...” He sprinkled the powder he’d found in the cupboard into the water. “This will help a bit, but you need more than that. It’s going to hurt, but you need to get under the water.” He got to his feet. “And then you are going to tell me what happened, or so help me I will use a memory charm on you.”
When Harry returned, Draco was, indeed, fully in the water. The man’s eyes were closed and remained so as Harry dropped back to his knees. Eyes flickered over the reclined body, taking in the visible injuries ... the black eye and bruised cheek, discolouration around ribs on Draco’s right side, yellow/black marks on his hip and thigh, and swollen fingers on his left hand leading to a forearm criss-crossed with lots of little cuts as if Draco had been dragged through a thorn bush. Harry looked closer, eyes narrowing as he realised that something else had been scratched into the surface. It looked like...
Like...
A Dark Mark?
He reached for the arm, pulling it from the water, only to have Draco try to tug away. Grey eyes flashed open and for a second Harry thought he saw fear in them.
“It isn’t what you think.” Draco pulled his arm protectively towards his body.
“I know.” Harry’s voice was quiet and he tried keeping it even. “Let me see.” He deliberately didn’t reach for the arm, but instead waited, hoping that Draco would show him without being pushed. Neither moved. “Please, Draco.”
“I need to tell you what happened first ... to explain.”
“Okay, tell me.” Harry reached out and began stroking Draco’s hair. “We’ve got time, love.”
“The message ... the one that owl brought...?” He looked at Harry, clearly waiting for an acknowledgement that the dark-haired man understand what he was talking about. Harry nodded. “It was from my father.” Harry’s only response was to pause briefly in his ministrations before continuing the rhythmic stroking. “He told me that he knew where we were and that if I didn’t go to see him, he’d destroy us both.”
“You’re an idiot.” Harry tugged slightly on the blond strands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought I could deal with it. And....” Draco’s eyes closed, his features tense, “despite everything he’s still my father. I thought I could talk to him and maybe come to a ... compromise, or some sort of closure.”
“How could he know where we are? The wards around here are almost as powerful as those at the Ministry and at Hogwarts.”
“Like you said, I’m an idiot. Of course he didn’t know. The owl found me because that’s what owls do, but they can’t be tracked. I ... I didn’t think and panicked about what he might do to you. When I finally met up with him I realised the truth ... he’d been trying to trace both of us and had absolutely no idea where the house is. That was what he expected me to tell him ... the location and the charms to disable the wards. At first he spent ages going on about Malfoy loyalty and then, when he’d decided that wasn’t going to work he changed tactics.” A little laugh spilled from Draco, its tone bitter, as grey eyes flickered to Harry. “He was quite ... forceful ... in his methods of persuasion.”
“He beat you?”
“No, he’s more subtle than that. Remember that quill Umbridge used on you?”
“How can I forget?” Harry’s hand clenched reflectively, a faint white scar still occasionally visible on the back from where Umbridge had made him cut over and over again into his skin ‘I must not tell lies’ in his own skin.
“My father has a quill like that. He made me draw lines on a piece of parchment and that’s where the marks on my back came from. Each day he made me drew over and over the same line on the parchment until he was satisfied the mark were deep enough.” Draco leaned into Harry’s hand. “And in case I didn’t think he was being serious, he let someone else play with the pen as well.”
“He’s with your father?” Harry couldn’t bear to say the name of the one person who’d betrayed him so badly and he shuddered reflexively.
Draco nodded. “Yeah. He did this.” Finally the arm was held out to Harry, water dripping from it. “He thought it would be funny to carve a Dark Mark into my arm.”
Carefully taking the arm, Harry towelled dry the pale skin and ran his fingers over the lines. “It’s not very deep you know. I don’t think it’ll mark permanently.”
“It would be brilliant wouldn’t it, to survive everything Voldemort threw at me and then have Weasel give me this scar.” His eyes met Harry’s and for a moment Harry thought his lover’s face with the saddest thing he’d ever seen.
“We’ll find something to get rid of it.” Harry’s fingers feathered over the skin and finally he pulled the limb to his mouth and kissed it, before resting his cheek briefly against the marked flesh. When he looked up again, he found Draco’s eyes fixed on him. “Did he make all the other cuts as well?”
Draco nodded. “And most of the bruises as well. He was not a happy person believe me. I managed to get away last...” Draco paused briefly and frowned as if trying to remember something. “What day is it today?”
“Wednesday.”
“It must have been Friday I think. I got away then, but it all seemed too easy and I was worried they’d let me go. I didn’t dare contact you or come here directly just in case they had some sort of tracking spells on me. I’m still not sure if I’m clear.”
Harry’s mouth twitched in a little smile. “I’ve checked. You’re clean.”
“That’s something.” Draco suddenly sat up, the water dripping and he reached for Harry, damp hands marking Harry’s clothes. “Harry, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t...”
“No, it was a stupid thing to do. But I thought...” Draco sighed. “I thought I might be able to end this once and for all. I want you to be safe and if I could make my father understand.”
“Draco....”
“I know, Harry, he’s not going to change is he?”
Harry shrugged. “He might ... let’s not write them off completely.”
Draco reached for Harry, pulling him close enough to finally kiss him. “Oh, Harry. Ever the Gryffindor.”
“And you’re Slytherin through-and-through. Come on, I need to get some healing salve on all those cuts and bruises.” Harry pulled Draco from the water and, once the man was standing, carefully dried him with a huge fluffy towel. When he’d finished, he lead him to their bed, where Draco eased himself down onto the cool sheets, groaning as the movement flickered pain through his system.
“You should see a healer, you’re a mess.” Harry sat on the edge of the bed
“Thanks, Potter, that makes me feel so much better.” Draco shifted slightly, the pressure on his back painful. “I’ll see someone in the morning. All I want to do now is sleep.”
“Does this help?” Harry cast a charm that removed the pressure and made it feel like Draco was floating on air.
“Oh yes.” His body limp, and eyes dropping closed, Draco sprawled comfortably. “That feels so good.”
“Okay, but drink this before you fall asleep.” He held out a small glass vial.
Draco’s eyes opened and he looked suspiciously at the contents. “What is it?”
“One of your healing potions.” Harry watched as Draco grimaced.
“Then it will probably taste awful.” Propping himself on an elbow, Draco took the vial and swallowed the liquid. He handed it back and managed a cocky grin. “That wasn’t bad ... sometimes I even amaze myself.”
“I bet.” Harry reached for the pot of healing salve. “This might sting a little ... at least it did when you used it on me.”
“Can’t you find something else?”
“Yeah,” Harry glowered at him. “A trip to the hospital.”
“Point taken.”
“Turn over ... I’ll start with your back.”
Draco slowly complied, hissing in a pained breath as he moved to lie on his front.
Harry began to rub the salve into the injuries, applying it as carefully as possible. He knew that the mixture would sting momentarily but that would disappear almost immediately, leaving in its wake blessed relief. Draco lay still, occasionally letting out a moan of discomfort, but no other complaints. Harry paid particular attention to the marks on his beloved’s back and arms, determined not to let Draco carry scars. Turning Draco onto his back, he continued with his ministrations and when he’d finally finished, Harry reached up to brush the fine blond strands of Draco’s hair from his face. Already the bruise on Draco’s cheek and eye was beginning to fade. He leaned down and carefully kissed his lover’s lips.
“How’s that?”
A sad little smile flickered over Draco’s face. “A bit better. But I’m aching in places I didn’t know I had.”
“Poor baby.” Still dressed, Harry laid beside Draco, propping himself up on one elbow. “Is there anywhere that doesn’t hurt?”
“A few places.”
“Such as?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.
Draco studied him for a moment before touching the tip of his finger to an area in his hairline just above his blackened eye. “Here.”
Harry looked at the finger for a moment before pulling it away. He leaned carefully over Draco, not touching him, and let his lips settle on the point. Taking his time, Harry kissed and licked at the area, before pulling away and meeting those grey eyes again. “Anywhere else?”
The long pale finger came to rest on the corner of Draco’s eye. “Here.”
Removing his glasses, Harry kissed the point and bestowed a series of little butterfly kisses along Draco’s cheekbone before once again looking at Draco and waiting.
Draco’s fingers lingered on his own mouth, where his lips waited slightly parted and expectant. “Just here.”
Harry sucked Draco’s bottom lip and held it there between his teeth, the pressure just the way he knew Draco loved it. He let his tongue glide over the trapped flesh before releasing it and moving in to kiss Draco, exploring that exquisite mouth completely, lovingly, until the moan rising in Draco’s throat was finally one of pleasure rather than pain. He touched the tip of Draco’s tongue with his own before pulling away, aware of Draco moving into Harry’s mouth, but he didn’t allow his lover the opportunity for his own exploration. Instead he pulled back and watched as Draco licked his full lips.
“Anywhere else, love?”
Draco fingers played briefly over his left nipple. “Here.”
For long minutes Harry just looked, almost mesmerised by the dark pink puckered skin. He could almost envisage it tightening just by his gaze upon it, but in the end he reached for it, lapping and suckling at the nub of flesh. As it became hard in his mouth, Harry could feel the growing glow of arousal spreading through his groin and he quickly tried to push the sensation away. He was doing this for Draco, not for himself. He moved quickly to Draco’s other nipple and worked that one to hardness as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Draco’s fingers clutch reflexively at the sheets.
He finally released the engorged nipple with an audible ‘pop’ and looked up at Draco again. This time neither spoke as Draco’s finger reached to his navel, briefly sliding inside before pulling away, the hand moving to rest on Harry’s head. Fingers curled into the black silk as Harry’s tongue pushed into the little hollow and as Harry sucked gently on the surrounding area, Draco arched into the touch.
“Oh, Harry...”
“Yes, Draco?” Harry pulled away with one last lick to the tender sweet tasting skin and looked up the long, lithe body to the grey windows of Draco’s soul. “What do you want, love?”
“I just need you to hold me.” Draco closed his eyes, tears squeezing through to hang momentarily on his eyelashes.
Harry choked back a little sob at the whispered words. Scrambling from the bed, he quickly stripped off his own clothes before returning to gather Draco carefully into his arms. They barely touched, Harry’s arm lightly around Draco as the blond head settled against his shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m okay ... I’ll let you know if you do.” Draco turned slightly, just enough to kiss Harry’s chin.
Magicking a sheet over them, Harry settled back, aware of the change in Draco’s breathing as he drifted into sleep. He would make his lover see a healer when he woke and then....
Expression hardening, Harry’s fingers tightening protectively around Draco’s shoulder.
Then Harry would end this ... once and for all.
---fin
15th September 2004