It's Not A Love Potion - 11/14
Title: It's Not A Love Potion
Rating: R
Disclaimer: *disclaims*
Summary: “Now, lust potions develop feelings of desire in the taker without the affection that a love potion gives, so Malfoy, you will find that you continue to see Potter as the insufferable twit that he is." Not HBP/DH compliant.
Author note: This story is complete and just needs bazzing through the beta machine, so updates will be fairly regular. I'm still finding my feet in the whole fic-writing thing, so feedback - concrit especially - would be most welcome.
[<< Previous chapter]
A thousand thoughts rushed through Harry's head. Someone had seen them, someone knew. Snape had told Dumbledore everything. The Christmas dinner had been laced with a time-sensitive poison and they could all turn blue at any moment.
"What's going on?" he asked, his eyes darting between the two teachers. "Has something happened?"
Dumbledore inclined his head. "I would prefer to tell you the details in my office, Harry, if you would be so kind. Mr Malfoy, I advise you to go to your dormitory and remain there for the rest of the evening."
Harry blinked. Did this mean that the news had nothing to do with Draco? Or was Dumbledore going to punish them one at a time? He dimly noted that Draco's fingers were clutching tightly to the sleeve of Harry's robe.
"Sir-"
"Headmaster, I think it would be wise if Mr Malfoy were to accompany us. He and Potter have some… unfinished business. Potter's welfare is currently very much Draco's concern," Snape murmured in Dumbledore's ear.
Dumbledore's searching gaze swept over them, brushing over Snape's respectfully bowed head, Draco's worried-but-defiant expression. He nodded. "Very well. Draco, you may join us, although I must express my disapproval. I would much rather such grave news not fall on two sets of innocent ears; one is quite bad enough."
"I'm coming," Draco said firmly. Harry didn't think Draco realised that he had yet to let go of Harry's sleeve.
The four of them walked swiftly to Dumbledore's office in silence, Harry's mind reeling with possibilities. Dumbledore had said 'grave news'. And if it wasn't related to him and Draco… was someone in trouble? One of his friends? But they were all downstairs in the Great Hall, he'd seen them not five minutes ago, so what…?
"As you may or may not know," Dumbledore said solemnly once they had taken their seats, "I have various sources of intelligence keeping watch on known Death Eaters and their activities. This morning, several of them contacted me with the same message. I have attempted to confirm that a well-executed deception was not afoot, but alas, it seems not to be the case, no matter how much I wish it were so."
"Oh, get to it," Snape snapped, standing beside Dumbledore's chair, having refused to sit down.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Very well," he said. "Harry, Voldemort is on his way."
The breath in Harry's lungs whooshed out of him all at once. He'd never even thought to consider - what with school and Draco, Voldemort had been pushed to the back of his mind, and now Dumbledore was saying… they hadn't had any indication at all, no mysterious warnings, no deaths, surely they should have known-
Dumbledore continued. "He has been steadily growing more powerful in recent months and we now believe he plans to take the castle. As for its residents - well. Suffice to say, Harry, that a great number of lives will depend on you. You have been training for this moment. It is time."
Training? He'd had two meetings with Dumbledore in the past month; in both of them he had achieved nothing more than a few lost duels and hours of fruitless research.
God, this was it. He was actually going to face down Voldemort.
"Rubbish!" Draco burst out. Harry's eyes snapped towards him in shock. "Look, I'm sorry, Professor, but surely you have a means of defending the castle so he can't attack?"
Dumbledore frowned. "Certainly. But the defences cannot hold forever, and I fear that Voldemort will not give up easily."
"So sending Potter out to fight him is the best plan you have?"
"Mr Malfoy!" Snape barked, but Dumbledore shook his head.
"I understand your concern, but there are far greater powers of my own dictating these events. There is a prophecy-"
"A prophecy," Draco said flatly. "You're basing this on a prophecy." He shook his head. "Professor Snape, what about that potion we gave you?" Harry watched blankly as Draco's fingers clenched on the arms of his chair. "Did you manage to - to isolate the unwanted elements?"
Snape bowed his head and Harry figured he should probably feel more upset. But what was the point? He was going to die. It was all over.
"Okay," he said hoarsely. "I - I guess I'll, uh. Get ready." He stood up.
"Professor, do something!" Draco shouted, standing up too. "You can't let him - this is a load of - he's seventeen years old."
"I am well aware of how young Harry is," Dumbledore said severely. "What we are dealing with are the workings of fate. This is something with which I cannot interfere."
"Bollocks!"
"Please mind your language, Mr Malfoy. Even in the darkest of situations, we must remember our manners, else where would we be?"
"Oh, I don't know, perhaps sending a teenage boy up against the world's most powerful dark wizard," Draco snapped. Harry noticed the lack of twinkle in Dumbledore's eye and put his hand on Draco's arm.
"Draco, it's okay," he said, trying to be comforting. "You - you'll be fine without me for a week. I mean, you said yourself that it's easier when I'm not around. I'm sure Snape has something that'll lessen the effects."
"I don't care about the fucking potion, Potter! How can you just stand there and accept this?"
Harry shrugged. He had recognised a long time ago that his death by Voldemort's hand was inevitable. It was just a shame that Draco would have to suffer because of it.
"Fucking Gryffindors!" Draco exclaimed. Dumbledore didn't even bother to correct him, just regarded him sadly. Draco ignored this and started to pace around the office.
"Deal with what we have," he muttered to himself. "What do we have? Think like a Slytherin, get your brain in gear, come on, fucking hell. Teachers, ghosts, house-elves, portraits, poltergeist, charms, transfigurations, potions. Potions. This mess is all down to potions. These fucking shitty bollocking lust potions-Professor!" Draco snapped his head up and looked intensely at Snape. "What are the chances that Potter will be able to control himself under that potion we gave you?"
Snape straightened. "Only Potter could say that," he said slowly. "But the sample you gave me has been altered, it is unsafe to ingest."
Draco waved a hand impatiently. "I have another bottle," he said. "Harry? What do you think?"
Harry stared at Draco. The thought of a week without Harry must have been horrible for Draco to be putting in so much thought about this. "I could try it," he said. "Given what's at stake, here, I reckon I should be able to stop myself from… well." He cast an embarrassed look at Dumbledore, whose twinkle had tentatively returned.
"I think that's an admirable idea," Dumbledore affirmed. "Anything that might assist in your quest, Harry."
Harry snorted. His quest, indeed. Bloody prophecy. Although the mysterious power-inducing lust potion of Draco's definitely counted under the heading of "power the Dark Lord knows not", he supposed…
"In that case," Snape said sharply. "Draco, fetch the bottle of the potion and bring it to my office. I shall verify that it is of acceptable quality before Potter drinks it; I hardly think that a dead hero can do much good against the forces of the Dark Lord. Potter, with me."
***
The wait for Draco in Snape's office was awkward. Never mind that Voldemort was going to arrive at Hogwarts any minute, what if Harry couldn't control himself under the potion? What if he started touching Draco, right there in front of all the teachers?
Harry cast a nervous glance towards Snape in case Snape could read his thoughts on his face (or through Legilimency - Harry wouldn't put it past him), but Snape was stooped over a cauldron, ignoring Harry's presence. Good. That left Harry to worry to himself without being disturbed by Snape's customary sarcastic remarks. Just how he liked it.
Five minutes' worrying later and the door burst open.
"I've got it," Draco panted, clearly having run all the way here. "Nott was in the room, saw me getting it, that's why I was so slow."
"No matter," Snape said, and held out a hand. "This shouldn't take long."
Draco handed the bottle over and stood back, next to Harry. They exchanged nervous smiles and Harry had the crazy urge to grab Draco's hand, which he resisted, of course. It was just end-of-the-world madness overtaking his brain for a moment.
Harry shook his head and focused his attention back on the Potions master.
Snape extracted a tiny drop of potion from the bottle with his wand and peered at it. "It seems to be…" he muttered to himself, seemingly oblivious to the two boys watching him with baited breath. "However." He flicked his wand and the drop of potion splashed into the cauldron, which fizzed and turned light blue.
"It is satisfactory," Snape said out loud, straightening. "Although extremely powerful. I wish you luck in controlling it, Potter." Harry gulped. Things must be serious if Snape was wishing him luck.
"I will leave the room when you take it," Snape continued, and Harry agreed wholeheartedly. The last thing he needed right now was an overwhelming desire for Snape's cock. "I must remind you, Potter, that time is of the essence. Try and control is as quickly as you can, and then join the faculty in the Entrance Hall."
"Right," Harry said, fiddling nervously with his sleeve. "I'll do my best."
"For the sake of the wizarding world, I pray that that is good enough," Snape said dryly, and swooped out of the door.
Harry looked at Draco's pale face and tried to smile reassuringly.
"Stop that," Draco chided weakly. "I'm the one who's supposed to be supporting, here."
Harry snorted. "You? Supporting?" he joked feebly. "That'll be the day." He took a deep, steadying breath and gazed down into the potion. It was clear, looked just like water. He would totally be able to control it.
"Cheers," he said quietly, raised the bottle in a toast, and downed the potion in one.
The two minutes it took for the potion to kick in were dreadful. He and Draco stared at each other in silence, both waiting, knowing exactly what would happen and hoping it would be enough…
There. Harry's eyes widened as his oxygen supply was suddenly cut off. He was ready for the dizziness this time, and instead of falling over, he leaned heavily over Snape's desk, clutching at the edges until he thought they might break off. God, energy rushing through him, he could feel it filling every atom of his being, he was bursting with power, overflowing with it. He could do anything.
The roar of the potion faded and he was filled with a sudden awareness of everything around him; the teachers, gathered in the Entrance Hall, chattering nervously, tension high. The students, huddled in their respective common rooms, all of them terrified. The castle, aware of the approaching danger, bracing itself for its own destruction, strengthening its defences as much as it could.
The boy, standing three feet away from him, a substance coursing through his blood that did not belong there, his thoughts swirling in his head and his heart beating erratically.
"Harry?" he heard Draco say anxiously, and Harry pulled off his glasses carelessly and opened his eyes.
Another explosion, this time centred around his cock, set itself off in Harry's body. Draco was so beautiful, so perfect. Harry needed to protect him, to keep him from harm, to make him feel good. He'd make Draco forget every bad thought that was hovering like a black cloud around his head, he'd fuck Draco until he couldn't speak, couldn't think, only feel. He'd touch every centimetre of Draco's skin until he was writhing in his beautiful way, wanting, desiring, needing Harry.
And Draco would love it.
Quicker than a thought, Harry was cupping Draco's chin in his hand and joining their mouths. Draco's heartbeat grew wilder, pumping harshly in his chest. Harry felt him giving in, melting, submitting to Harry, and Harry thrilled at the thought. Draco was so aroused now; Harry wanted nothing more than to sate him, to bring him to the peak of pleasure and keep him there until Harry saw fit to bring him crashing down in a burst of fulfilled lust.
But - what the hell? - Draco's hand pushed at Harry's chest. Nowhere near hard enough to make Harry move, of course, but Harry didn't want to make Draco unhappy. He broke the kiss.
This didn't make sense. Harry could tell that Draco wanted Harry to kiss him. He could feel it, knew it as certainly as he knew his own name. So why was Draco protesting?
"What's the matter?" Harry asked, frustrated that he couldn't figure it out.
Draco looked at him dazedly, his hands still clutched in Harry's robes. "You… there's, um. The Dark Lord. You have to fight him."
Was that all? Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was scared it was something important. "I don't care," he murmured, letting his eyes drift down to Draco's lips. "I'd much rather spend some… quality time with you."
Draco let out a whimper and Harry kissed him again. God, but he tasted amazing. All sugar and sweetness and Draco and Harry pulled their bodies closer together and buried his hand in Draco's beautiful hair and-fuck, what now?!
"Harry, you need - you need to kill him," Draco panted into Harry's mouth.
"I need to fuck you until you forget your own name," Harry growled in return, electricity running down his spine as he felt Draco shudder violently in his arms.
"You can," Draco whispered. "I want - I promise, you can. But first you have to get rid of the Dark Lord and then we'll be free to do whatever we want, I swear."
Harry felt that they were free to do whatever they wanted right then, actually, and leaned forward to taste Draco's neck to prove it. Draco threw his head back and moaned deep in his throat and Harry knew that he'd won.
"I'll let you take control this time, Draco," he murmured, his hand finding the bulge in Draco's trousers and squeezing. "Do you want to tie me up, have me beg for your cock? Or do you want me to hold you down and fuck you until you come so hard you see stars?"
"Fuck yes, I want… No, Harry, please. You have to stop. This - ah! - this is important."
Harry remained unconvinced. How could Voldemort be more important than Draco? The idea was ludicrous. Unless, of course…
"Is this something you want?" he asked.
Draco stared at him for a few long moments. Then he nodded. "Yes. Yeah, it is. Will you do it? For me?"
"I will do anything for you," Harry breathed, and resigned himself to wasting a good hour of his day defeating an undead lunatic with an ego problem.
***
The Entrance Hall was an unexpected sensational overload. So much noise, so many people. Harry flinched away from the information bombarding his senses, wanting desperately to disappear with Draco to the Room of Requirement and make Draco the centre of his world again. These people didn't belong here. They weren't worthy to be in the same room as Draco.
A large magical power itched at the edge of Harry's consciousness and he turned towards it, automatically erecting a shield charm around Draco to protect him from danger.
It was Dumbledore. Harry looked at him in amazement. He was so old. His body had grown weary long ago and he was running on almost pure magic, magic that was more powerful than most of the teachers put together.
"Professor," he said respectfully. Harry was more powerful than him, of course, but Dumbledore's was by far the most impressive magic swirling around the room.
"Harry," Dumbledore replied. "I trust everything went well in the dungeons?"
"It did, sir. There will be no problems, I'm almost certain."
Dumbledore twinkled at him. "Excellent, excellent. Now, Mr Malfoy, I think it would be best if you were to-"
"Draco's going with me." / "I'm going with him."
Dumbledore gazed at them searchingly. He was using Legilimency, Harry knew that now, could see it in the air, and he freely allowed the headmaster to see the urge to do nothing but defend Draco. As if he would for a second let Draco be even slightly harmed. The thought itself hurt Harry to his very core.
"You must protect him, Harry," Dumbledore said, a hint of respect in his voice that Harry had never heard before.
"It is unthinkable to do anything else," Harry responded, bowing his head. He felt Draco shiver beside him and wound an arm around his waist. Draco shifted closer and rested his head on Harry's shoulder and in that moment, Harry felt perfectly content. Draco was with him, trusting him, and everybody here would see it. Everybody would know that Draco belonged to him.
Dumbledore regarded them quietly and nodded, and Harry took that as permission to leave. He headed for the oak front doors, impatient to get this whole business out of the way so he could spend time with Draco. Alone.
"Harry!"
Why did these people keep bothering him? Two figures, both of comparatively low power, were running towards him. The taller one came to a halt, but the shorter kept running and she flung herself into Harry's arms.
Harry, remembering that this was Hermione and she was his friend, tried not to shudder. Nobody should touch him unless they were Draco. Draco was the one he wanted, not any of these people.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione sobbed into his chest. "Oh, Harry, I can't believe it! Be careful! Please, please be careful!"
Harry pushed her away firmly. "I won't need to be," he told her. "I'm at least ten times as powerful as he is. All this fuss is entirely unnecessary. As soon as he gets here, I'll have him dead within five minutes."
For some reason, this seemed to upset Hermione further and her eyes overflowed with tears. She shook her head, unable to say anything else. That was fine by Harry. He could focus on Draco again now.
But Ron apparently had something to add. "Watch yourself, yeah?" he said gruffly. Rather than pointing out again that he didn't need to, Harry nodded. Anything to get them out of the way quicker.
"And you," he returned politely. Ron stared at him a moment longer, then he, too, grabbed him into a hug. What was it with these people and physical contact? Harry awkwardly patted Ron on the back until Ron straightened up and looked around, searching for something to say. His eyes fell on Draco. Harry stiffened.
"What's Malfoy doing here?" Ron asked somewhat suspiciously. "Shouldn't he be trembling in the dungeons with the other cowardly Slytherin bast-argh!"
Harry's hand was raised and a tight loop of magic was encircling Ron's throat before Ron could finish his sentence. How did he have the nerve to stand there and casually insult Draco? He wasn't even worthy to say Draco's name.
"Harry!" Hermione's voice. She was hardly any better than Ron; Harry could feel that she didn't like Draco and that was bad enough. He ignored her and tightened his hand. Ron made a choking noise, his face bright red and his eyes bulging.
"Harry, stop, please stop!" And to think, Ron was even related to Draco. He was filthy, polluting the world with his unworthiness and dirty remarks. It was disgusting.
"Potter, you idiot, stop it!" Harry obeyed the command without question and dropped his arm.
Ron took a gasping breath and leaned heavily on Hermione. The two of them glared at him accusingly. "Who the hell are you?" Ron wheezed. Harry regarded him impassively and said nothing. He wasn't going to waste any more time with either of the two Gryffindors.
Draco grabbed his arm. "We'll explain later," he told Ron and Hermione shortly, and dragged Harry out of the door before anybody else could waylay them. He
"I should have killed him," Harry said once they were safe from the intense jabbering of the Entrance Hall.
"Don't be an idiot, he's your best friend," Draco replied.
"He insulted you," Harry hissed. "He deserves to die."
Draco smiled ruefully. "You'd regret it in the morning."
Harry stopped walking. He cupped Draco's face in his hands and leaned closer, desperate that Draco understand. "Never." Draco ducked his head and said nothing. "Draco," Harry implored. "I'm not going to let anybody hurt you ever again, I promise."
"Tell me that tomorrow morning and I'll believe you," Draco said softly. "Now aren't you supposed to be preparing to defeat a Dark Lord or something?"
Harry waved a hand. "I don't need to prepare for that, it's going to be easy. But you… I want you to stay quiet," Harry said, touching Draco's face, reassuring himself that he was fine, that he'd survive. "I'll wrap you in spells that will mask your presence, but they'll be more effective if you don't draw attention to yourself. Voldemort's an idiot, but he's a perceptive little bastard. Please, please keep still and silent. I need to know that you're safe. I'm not going to lose you, Draco."
Draco smiled at him, but Harry knew it was feigned. He could Apparate them to the Room of Requirement right now. Draco needn't be so sad. "You're not going to lose me, Harry," Draco said, looping his arms around Harry's neck. "And you have to promise to stay safe, too, okay?"
"Anything for you," Harry breathed, meaning every word, and leaned in for a kiss. Draco granted him one, and the two of them stood wrapped around each other in the frosty January air, but Harry wasn't cold. He could never be cold again, not with Draco at his side.
"Wish we didn't have to do this," Draco murmured when they broke apart, their foreheads touching.
"We don't have to," Harry said immediately. "I'll take you away and we'll be together, just you and me."
Draco laughed breathily. "Sounds appealing, but maybe we should solve the Dark Lord problem first."
"You're more important to me than a million Dark Lords," Harry told him softly, and Draco finally gave in and smiled properly, his face brilliantly open and god, so beautiful. Harry was literally just about to forget about Voldemort and Apparate them both out of there, when he felt a niggling presence at the edge of his consciousness. Several niggling presences.
"They're here," he said, and immediately cast protection charms to keep Draco from harm.
Draco shimmered out of view. Harry couldn't help but mourn the loss of Draco's face gazing at him, but he would have it again. Once this stupid thing was over and done with. Not long now…
A mass of black robes and white masks were making their way up the drive to the castle, and Harry turned to watch them approach with amusement. The castle's anti-apparition spells were easy to get around. It just showed Voldemort's weakness that he walked here.
Harry sought out Draco with his mind, careful to keep his thoughts shielded from the approaching group. He was still safe, still hidden, and Harry smiled grimly. Soon, it would all be over. Soon.
The horde of Death Eaters came to a halt in front of him and their leader stepped forward and pushed down his hood.
"Harry," he said pleasantly. "How nice to see you again."
Oh bloody hell, Voldemort and his small talk. This could take longer than he'd anticipated. "Wish I could say the same, Tom," Harry said lightly, feeling nothing but confidence that he could finally beat Voldemort.
The Death Eaters hissed. "It is unwise to taunt me, Harry," Voldemort warned. "It could be the last thing you ever do."
"I doubt that, somehow," Harry returned idly, resisting the urge to check on Draco again. "My track record is a damn sight better than yours is."
"Oh, little Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed. "Only alive because of the power of love. Do you see where that has got you, Harry? Sent out alone to face me. Such bravery. Such nobility. Your parents would have been so proud."
"You've mentioned that before, yeah." God, Harry would be doing Voldemort a favour by killing him. He was getting so boring.
Voldemort smirked. "I think it's about time we ended your little legend, don't you, Harry?" He drew out his wand and pointed it straight at Harry's heart. "Avada Kedavra!"
Harry stood with his arms folded, unimpressed, as a jet of green light sailed straight towards him and then… faded.
Voldemort's face contorted with rage. "What did you do?" he hissed at Harry.
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe you're tired or something," he said. "You are getting on now, you know, Tom. What are you, seventy?"
There was a murmur from the Death Eaters. "Silence!" Voldemort spat. "I will not tolerate insolence from a boy! Avada Kedavra!"
The spell failed again. Voldemort looked ready to explode. Harry wished he would; it'd be over sooner.
"Potter!" Voldemort screeched. "You dare make me look a fool? I suppose you are proud of your cheap trick, you filthy half-blood?"
"Oh, come off it," Harry scoffed. "You're as much of a half-blood as I am. Look, I've let you have your moment, but are you finished with the theatrics yet? I have something I want to do."
Another murmur came from the gathered Death Eaters.
"Why, you impertinent little-I will end this now!"
"No, I'm going to end this," Harry cut across him. "You're a wreck, Tom Riddle. I'm doing you a favour."
Harry squeezed his hands into fists and a flame appeared in the air in front of Voldemort. Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "You think I can be defeated by your babyish spells?" he spat.
"I know you can," Harry assured, and flicked a finger. The flame burst into a roaring ball of fire, totally enveloping Voldemort in a heartbeat.
Harry watched emotionlessly as the thing that once was Tom Marvolo Riddle burned in a roaring sphere of fire. He watched as high-pitched blood-curdling screams escaped the blazing ball of flames.
And he did nothing. He felt nothing.
And then it was over.
He turned to the Death Eaters. They huddled together, unsure what to do without their master to command them, scared of the power that Harry wielded. He glared at them in disgust. He should kill them, too. Slowly and painfully, until nothing remained of them except ash. The world would be better off without them.
But…
Draco's father was out there. Even though each black-robed figure was indistinguishable from the next, Harry knew immediately which minion was Lucius Malfoy. And although Draco thought his father was wrong in following Voldemort, Harry knew Draco didn't want Lucius dead.
Harry swore. He couldn't not punish them; half of them would lie and blackmail their way out of Azkaban far too easily thanks to the uselessness that was the Ministry of Magic. And there was no way that Death eaters should be allowed to live happy and normal lives - especially when Harry himself had been denied one for so long.
A burning desire for revenge enveloped Harry's mind. These bastards didn't deserve to live. They didn't deserve to go back to their manor houses and see their families and hug their children. They deserved to die.
Harry raised a hand and extended his senses to the crowd of Death Eaters. Oh, and he could feel them. So weak. He could stop all of their hearts in a second and they could do nothing to stop him. He was inside them, could see every little thing that kept their bodies alive, the connections that sustained their existence. And he could break them.
He would break them.
The wizarding world would thank him for destroying the last of Voldemort's followers. With them still alive, anything could happen. Voldemort had been killed once before. He could come back. And Harry could stop that.
Draco's terrified face exploded in front of Harry's eyes. He didn't want his father to die. He was so scared. He was scared of Harry.
"Fuck," Harry hissed. He blinked the image away, resolutely tightened his hands into fists and pulled.
A swirling mass of colour rose up from the gathered wizards. The Death Eaters didn't seem to be able to see it; they stared at Harry's raised hands in bewilderment. A few of the bolder ones started to laugh, Lucius Malfoy among them. Harry smiled grimly. It was better this way. This way they would suffer.
The colours swirled faster and faster until it became a huge vortex of pure black spinning over the heads of the oblivious Death Eaters, whipping their robes against their bodies, blowing their masks off until every one of their faces was visible. Harry smiled again. It would be easier for the Ministry to catalogue the bodies.
The vortex condensed into a whirling orb of pure power. Power that could not be vanished, and Harry certainly didn't want it. He made sure the shield charm protecting Draco was sufficiently strong, and then he blasted the orb into ground.
It exploded immediately, sending a shockwave across the grounds, hitting the Death Eaters with a huge force and knocking every last one unconscious. And Harry smiled.
The surroundings settled gradually and Harry cast a cursory containment charm over where the Death Eaters lay. They didn't hold his attention any more. He had far more important things to worry about.
Harry slowly turned around and lifted the concealment charms from Draco, though he left the protection spells intact.
Draco's face was completely white. Harry resisted the urge to gather him into his arms, knowing that Draco was probably petrified of him just then. The thought came with no small amount of anguish.
"Did you… did you kill him? The Dar… Voldemort. Is he dead?" Draco's voice was small.
"He's dead," Harry confirmed. "And hopefully for good this time, though I can't be one hundred percent certain."
Draco nodded. "And…" He swallowed. Harry's heart ached to see him in such pain. "And the rest of them? Are they… I mean, did you…"
"They're alive," Harry interrupted. "But I took away their magic. They're all Squibs now, Draco."
"Squibs," Draco repeated dumbly, and shook his head. "You took… no, no, let me get this straight. You just took away their ability to do magic? Altogether? For good?"
Harry nodded, bracing himself for Draco leaving in disgust and not looking back. It felt like his body was poised on the edge of shattering into tiny little pieces.
"But that's fantastic!" Draco exclaimed, and Harry blinked. Draco was grinning widely, his eyes sparkling. It didn't seem like the grin of someone who was going to abandon him.
"You don't hate me?" Harry asked tentatively.
"Merlin, no! You're a fucking genius! They are going to be so pissed off and, best of all, there's nothing they can do about it! It's perfect!"
No, Draco was perfect. How could Harry have thought that Draco would be anything but understanding? He closed his eyes as an overwhelming wave of desire washed over him. He wanted Draco. Needed him. Needed him right fucking now.
He grabbed Draco's arm and Apparated them both to the Entrance Hall, where all the teachers were still gathered.
"Voldemort is dead," Harry said shortly, no longer having the patience to control himself. The crisis was over and now he wanted Draco. "The Death Eaters are all alive and without magic. I will not be giving it them back. Feel free to arrest them or call the Ministry here or have a party, but for now, headmaster, Draco and I would like some time alone."
Harry, despite his newfound respect for Dumbledore, didn't wait for acknowledgement. He Apparated straight to the Room of Requirement where he finally - finally - could kiss Draco properly.
And, ohh, it was good. Draco seemed just as desperate as Harry was and the two of them devoured each other with a kind of terrible passion.
Harry made good on his promise to fuck Draco so hard that he forgot his name; in fact, Draco seemed to forget all words except 'oh fuck!' and 'Harry!', and Harry had long since forgotten about the existence of everything but the beautiful boy writhing beneath him.
It was a long time before they stopped. Harry needed to make up for a whole day of sexual frustration and Draco was eager to comply. Eventually, though, Draco tired and Harry was left alone while Draco slept.
Harry gazed down at him and gently brushed his hair out of his beautiful face. On a whim, Harry reached out with his mind and his consciousness was inside Draco's body as easily as stepping through an open door.
He was immediately filled with an overwhelming sense of wrongness. Something was in here that shouldn't be. Something that wasn't Draco.
It didn't take long to identify the offending entity. A cloying honeyed substance rushing through Draco's bloodstream, affecting his every mood, every decision. And Harry knew what it was.
He could banish it from Draco's body. It would be easy. He would just isolate every instance of Orexis Votum and pull it out of Draco's bloodstream and it would be like Draco had never drunk the potion. They'd go back to normal. Draco wouldn't be forced to like Harry any more.
Wondering when he had become so selfish, Harry gently extracted himself from Draco, rolled over and closed his eyes.
[Next chapter >>]