For Crucio_4_Coffee: Trapped With An Intruder [Fic, PG-13, Harry/Draco]
Title: Trapped With An Intruder
Author: ---
Giftee: crucio_4_coffee
Characters/Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,000
Summary: Harry is in hiding during the war when Draco comes to him for help.
The grey walls seemed to crack and convulse, trapping Harry within the dreary flat. He lay on his bare back, the broken mattress springs poking his skin through the worn layer of material. He followed the water stains on the ceiling with his eyes, memorizing the shapes his mind had formed. It was cold -- the sparse blanket he used to cover himself chilly against his skin. He could have sworn his own breath was visible, the warm puffs escaping his mouth with each exhale of air.
He reached for his crumpled pack of fags in his pocket. Dragging one out with careful fingers, his mouth enveloped the end, sucking in appreciation. He brought his wand up to the tip, whispering incendio through his teeth. His sucking soon achieved deep, peppery smoke that filled his lungs and it made his mouth water and his head swarm.
Christ, what the fuck was he going to do?
McGonagall had sent him to this decrepit place, with orders to not be seen or heard by anyone who could be a threat. The war was becoming too dangerous for Harry -- Voldemort had discovered his plan to destroy the Horcruxes months ago and had ordered Harry's death soon after. The Order's survival depended on Harry staying alive. She gave Harry a two-way mirror to contact Lupin if anything was wrong, and even though being cramped in this horrid place damaged his ego and morality, he did not want to chance the war against Voldemort.
He slammed his fists into the mattress as anger coursed through him. People were dying while he was stuck in this fucking flat, unable to do anything! The people he loved were in danger --- and he was helpless. Helpless for himself and helpless for them. He couldn't even get something to eat without sneaking around and his stomach hurt from the lack of food.
Harry crawled off the mattress to look out the window. He cracked it open, the smell of fish and chips wafting into the room. His stomach growled as he breathed in the aroma, the muscles deep in his abdomen clenching at the thought of those greasy, crispy pieces of meat filling his mouth. He spotted a small pub across the street, Muggles and music issuing from the open doors. As he put on his shirt, Harry could not think about the danger he was putting himself in.
Slipping out the door, he shoved his wand into his pocket, his fingers twisting around the worn tip. He jumped three steps at a time, thinking speed would be the key to his success. Once he was out into the warm air, he darted across the street, escaping Muggle cars that sped by.
Harry tried to look unassuming when he entered the pub. He inhaled the smell of beer and roasted nuts, a wave of tobacco smoke confounding his senses. Brushing his bangs away from his eyes with rough fingers and looking around the pub, he felt cold sweat against his forehead and under his arms. The Muggles seemed to not notice him -- something he was grateful for. He pushed past a group of chatting women near a music box, his eyes focusing on the barman who was setting down a big basket filled with fish in front of a couple.
"Excuse me, sir," Harry said once he had pushed his way to the bar. "How much for the fish and chips?"
The barman was beefy and dark, with sweat stains on his employee shirt that said McClain's on the chest. He eyed Harry with interest, and held up three of his fingers.
"Pounds?' Harry asked.
The barman rolled his eyes and nodded. "I have never seen you around here before."
Harry stiffened. "I'm just visiting."
The barman wrote up Harry's order and walked to the back of the pub to enter it. As Harry waited for his food, he nervously clenched his wand through his jeans and his eyes surveyed the scene around him. A man huddled in the corner of the bar caught Harry's interest. His head was resting on the counter in front of him, his blond hair slick but messy, as if he hadn't combed it in days and the oil had crusted and curled the ends.
Harry frowned deeply. There was something about the man that was familiar, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it.
"Oi! Your order!"
Tearing his eyes away from the man, Harry looked at the barman, fumbling in his pocket for the money. He handed it to him and grabbed his basket, turning his back to the bar and pushing past the Muggles to the door. He breathed deeply with relief once he stepped outside, the oil from the basket stinging his fingers. There was something about the man that made Harry uncomfortable and he racked his brain for where he had seen him before.
Once he was back in the flat, Harry flung himself onto the mattress and started to devour the food. The crispy scraps stung his fingertips and Harry wiped the crumbs on his jeans, leaving grease smears. His eyelids soon became heavy, his stomach full and satisfied. Throwing the basket aside, he rolled onto his back and kicked off his shoes.
Sound from the street below helped Harry drift off to sleep and his mind became numb with exhaustion.
~*~
There was someone in the room. Harry felt it even before his eyes snapped open. His nerves blared with the presence of the intruder, his hand snatching his wand from his pocket.
"Don't." It was a man's voice, low and thick.
Harry's eyes darted around the room, his heart in his throat. "Who are you? Show yourself!"
"No -- we both know you won't do anything to me with that wand, Potter."
Tension fell over the room as Harry realized who it was -- and who was in that pub with his blond head down. He could have smacked himself for being so idiotic.
"Malfoy." Harry almost spit the word, his mouth curling into a sneer, his teeth bare. "What are you doing here?"
A low chuckle echoed from the dark corner. Harry jumped to his feet when he felt Malfoy step closer. Malfoy was still shrouded in shadows, but Harry felt his presence all over his body. The hairs on his arms were standing up and his heart started to pound deep in his chest. There was something very wrong with the way Malfoy kept to the darkness. Would Voldemort soon arrive?
"Are you with -- " Harry couldn't continue, his throat becoming dry and his tongue suddenly unable to move. Was he about to die?
"No," Malfoy said tersely. He finally stepped into the light of the window, his eyes powerful in their misty shade.
It was hard for Harry to suppress the gasp that filled his lungs. Malfoy was paler than ever and his skin seemed like fine paper, easily crumpled at first touch. He looked weak -- his long arms thin and unimpressive as they hung at his side. There was no wand in sight.
"What do you want?" Harry asked, his voice harsh and low. His palms became sweaty, the hold on his wand slipping.
Malfoy hesitated, something like uncertainty flashed across his features. "I need your help." It was a soft admission, but it spoke volumes to Harry.
Harry scoffed at Malfoy's confession. "Why the hell would I want to --" Before Harry could finish the sentence, he was shoved onto his back with Malfoy on top of him, his hands around Harry's neck. Malfoy had moved with indefensible speed that knocked Harry's wand to the floor. His fingers clawed at Harry's neck, his jagged nails cutting into the flesh.
He could feel Malfoy's hot breath in his ear and his rough body against his own. Struggling to push Malfoy away, Harry's hands surged forward to tear at his face. He bucked his hips up, but was only met by a sharp knee to his groin.
"Stay still," Malfoy hissed when Harry tried to grab his wand, his mind swirling with pain from his groin. Malfoy leaned his head forward and pressed his mouth against Harry's neck. Harry stilled, his heart pounding in his chest and in his brain. He couldn't believe this was happening; what was Malfoy doing?
Malfoy's mouth moved to Harry's jaw, his thin lips skimming over the sharp bone and stopping at his lips. Harry could hear Malfoy's harsh breathing, his lips barely brushing Harry's own parched ones. Hesitating only for a second, Malfoy's lips crushed against his, cold and brutal. Harry froze -- his mind and body stilling from the kiss.
A frustrated groan escaped Malfoy's throat and he pushed Harry into the floor, ripping their mouths apart. He soon collapsed against him, his arms shaking from the strain. "Lupin," Malfoy said with a jagged breath. "I need to see Lupin."
Harry's mind wheeled at what was happening. He felt Malfoy's dead weight on top of him and realized that he was unconscious. Laying him on his back, Harry rolled to his side and searched through his trunk. Finding the chipped mirror, he said, "Lupin." The mirror glowed white and soon Lupin's worried face looked up at him.
"Harry? What's wrong?" He asked, his voice troubled.
"It's Malfoy. He found me --"
"Draco?" Lupin said, the astonishment clear. "I'll be right over." Harry nodded and set the mirror down.
Malfoy's breathing was labored, his face taunt with a pain. Harry wondered what had happened to him -- he could still feel Malfoy's lips against his own, his firm hands pressed into his neck. He felt something like regret rising within himself and he had to push the thought away before it became too much.
Someone knocked softly at the door. Harry jumped up and peered through the eye-hole. Lupin stood, waiting to be let in. He opened the door and stepped aside. "He's right there," Harry said, gesturing to where Malfoy lay.
Lupin went right to Malfoy, kneeling so he could get a better look. "What happened?"
"I woke up and he was there, looking at me." Harry pointed to the corner. "He asked me to help him and when I tried to refuse, he attacked me."
"Attacked you?" Lupin asked, staring up at Harry.
"Yeah, he shoved me to the ground -- and then put his mouth to my throat and then kissed me."
Lupin frowned. He looked at Malfoy, wiping away the sweat from his pale skin. "He's very cold." Lupin felt Malfoy's pulse and then frowned even more. "But his heart is beating faster than normal." His fingers slid down to the arch of his neck, pulling down his collar. Lupin gasped -- he spotted two small puncture holes.
Harry grimaced. "He was bitten?"
"Yes," Lupin said, levitating Malfoy from the ground. "It looks like by a vampire. I need to get him to St. Mungo's."
"And I stay here," Harry said, disappointment in his voice.
"Of course, we can't risk you being seen." Lupin levitated Malfoy to the door. "Don't worry. If they treat it now, he will be fine."
Harry gritted his teeth. He didn't give a damn about Malfoy, even if he could still feel the ghost of his lips and body. Pushing the thought away, Harry could only think about Lupin's safety and how this would affect the war.
Author: ---
Giftee: crucio_4_coffee
Characters/Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,000
Summary: Harry is in hiding during the war when Draco comes to him for help.
The grey walls seemed to crack and convulse, trapping Harry within the dreary flat. He lay on his bare back, the broken mattress springs poking his skin through the worn layer of material. He followed the water stains on the ceiling with his eyes, memorizing the shapes his mind had formed. It was cold -- the sparse blanket he used to cover himself chilly against his skin. He could have sworn his own breath was visible, the warm puffs escaping his mouth with each exhale of air.
He reached for his crumpled pack of fags in his pocket. Dragging one out with careful fingers, his mouth enveloped the end, sucking in appreciation. He brought his wand up to the tip, whispering incendio through his teeth. His sucking soon achieved deep, peppery smoke that filled his lungs and it made his mouth water and his head swarm.
Christ, what the fuck was he going to do?
McGonagall had sent him to this decrepit place, with orders to not be seen or heard by anyone who could be a threat. The war was becoming too dangerous for Harry -- Voldemort had discovered his plan to destroy the Horcruxes months ago and had ordered Harry's death soon after. The Order's survival depended on Harry staying alive. She gave Harry a two-way mirror to contact Lupin if anything was wrong, and even though being cramped in this horrid place damaged his ego and morality, he did not want to chance the war against Voldemort.
He slammed his fists into the mattress as anger coursed through him. People were dying while he was stuck in this fucking flat, unable to do anything! The people he loved were in danger --- and he was helpless. Helpless for himself and helpless for them. He couldn't even get something to eat without sneaking around and his stomach hurt from the lack of food.
Harry crawled off the mattress to look out the window. He cracked it open, the smell of fish and chips wafting into the room. His stomach growled as he breathed in the aroma, the muscles deep in his abdomen clenching at the thought of those greasy, crispy pieces of meat filling his mouth. He spotted a small pub across the street, Muggles and music issuing from the open doors. As he put on his shirt, Harry could not think about the danger he was putting himself in.
Slipping out the door, he shoved his wand into his pocket, his fingers twisting around the worn tip. He jumped three steps at a time, thinking speed would be the key to his success. Once he was out into the warm air, he darted across the street, escaping Muggle cars that sped by.
Harry tried to look unassuming when he entered the pub. He inhaled the smell of beer and roasted nuts, a wave of tobacco smoke confounding his senses. Brushing his bangs away from his eyes with rough fingers and looking around the pub, he felt cold sweat against his forehead and under his arms. The Muggles seemed to not notice him -- something he was grateful for. He pushed past a group of chatting women near a music box, his eyes focusing on the barman who was setting down a big basket filled with fish in front of a couple.
"Excuse me, sir," Harry said once he had pushed his way to the bar. "How much for the fish and chips?"
The barman was beefy and dark, with sweat stains on his employee shirt that said McClain's on the chest. He eyed Harry with interest, and held up three of his fingers.
"Pounds?' Harry asked.
The barman rolled his eyes and nodded. "I have never seen you around here before."
Harry stiffened. "I'm just visiting."
The barman wrote up Harry's order and walked to the back of the pub to enter it. As Harry waited for his food, he nervously clenched his wand through his jeans and his eyes surveyed the scene around him. A man huddled in the corner of the bar caught Harry's interest. His head was resting on the counter in front of him, his blond hair slick but messy, as if he hadn't combed it in days and the oil had crusted and curled the ends.
Harry frowned deeply. There was something about the man that was familiar, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it.
"Oi! Your order!"
Tearing his eyes away from the man, Harry looked at the barman, fumbling in his pocket for the money. He handed it to him and grabbed his basket, turning his back to the bar and pushing past the Muggles to the door. He breathed deeply with relief once he stepped outside, the oil from the basket stinging his fingers. There was something about the man that made Harry uncomfortable and he racked his brain for where he had seen him before.
Once he was back in the flat, Harry flung himself onto the mattress and started to devour the food. The crispy scraps stung his fingertips and Harry wiped the crumbs on his jeans, leaving grease smears. His eyelids soon became heavy, his stomach full and satisfied. Throwing the basket aside, he rolled onto his back and kicked off his shoes.
Sound from the street below helped Harry drift off to sleep and his mind became numb with exhaustion.
~*~
There was someone in the room. Harry felt it even before his eyes snapped open. His nerves blared with the presence of the intruder, his hand snatching his wand from his pocket.
"Don't." It was a man's voice, low and thick.
Harry's eyes darted around the room, his heart in his throat. "Who are you? Show yourself!"
"No -- we both know you won't do anything to me with that wand, Potter."
Tension fell over the room as Harry realized who it was -- and who was in that pub with his blond head down. He could have smacked himself for being so idiotic.
"Malfoy." Harry almost spit the word, his mouth curling into a sneer, his teeth bare. "What are you doing here?"
A low chuckle echoed from the dark corner. Harry jumped to his feet when he felt Malfoy step closer. Malfoy was still shrouded in shadows, but Harry felt his presence all over his body. The hairs on his arms were standing up and his heart started to pound deep in his chest. There was something very wrong with the way Malfoy kept to the darkness. Would Voldemort soon arrive?
"Are you with -- " Harry couldn't continue, his throat becoming dry and his tongue suddenly unable to move. Was he about to die?
"No," Malfoy said tersely. He finally stepped into the light of the window, his eyes powerful in their misty shade.
It was hard for Harry to suppress the gasp that filled his lungs. Malfoy was paler than ever and his skin seemed like fine paper, easily crumpled at first touch. He looked weak -- his long arms thin and unimpressive as they hung at his side. There was no wand in sight.
"What do you want?" Harry asked, his voice harsh and low. His palms became sweaty, the hold on his wand slipping.
Malfoy hesitated, something like uncertainty flashed across his features. "I need your help." It was a soft admission, but it spoke volumes to Harry.
Harry scoffed at Malfoy's confession. "Why the hell would I want to --" Before Harry could finish the sentence, he was shoved onto his back with Malfoy on top of him, his hands around Harry's neck. Malfoy had moved with indefensible speed that knocked Harry's wand to the floor. His fingers clawed at Harry's neck, his jagged nails cutting into the flesh.
He could feel Malfoy's hot breath in his ear and his rough body against his own. Struggling to push Malfoy away, Harry's hands surged forward to tear at his face. He bucked his hips up, but was only met by a sharp knee to his groin.
"Stay still," Malfoy hissed when Harry tried to grab his wand, his mind swirling with pain from his groin. Malfoy leaned his head forward and pressed his mouth against Harry's neck. Harry stilled, his heart pounding in his chest and in his brain. He couldn't believe this was happening; what was Malfoy doing?
Malfoy's mouth moved to Harry's jaw, his thin lips skimming over the sharp bone and stopping at his lips. Harry could hear Malfoy's harsh breathing, his lips barely brushing Harry's own parched ones. Hesitating only for a second, Malfoy's lips crushed against his, cold and brutal. Harry froze -- his mind and body stilling from the kiss.
A frustrated groan escaped Malfoy's throat and he pushed Harry into the floor, ripping their mouths apart. He soon collapsed against him, his arms shaking from the strain. "Lupin," Malfoy said with a jagged breath. "I need to see Lupin."
Harry's mind wheeled at what was happening. He felt Malfoy's dead weight on top of him and realized that he was unconscious. Laying him on his back, Harry rolled to his side and searched through his trunk. Finding the chipped mirror, he said, "Lupin." The mirror glowed white and soon Lupin's worried face looked up at him.
"Harry? What's wrong?" He asked, his voice troubled.
"It's Malfoy. He found me --"
"Draco?" Lupin said, the astonishment clear. "I'll be right over." Harry nodded and set the mirror down.
Malfoy's breathing was labored, his face taunt with a pain. Harry wondered what had happened to him -- he could still feel Malfoy's lips against his own, his firm hands pressed into his neck. He felt something like regret rising within himself and he had to push the thought away before it became too much.
Someone knocked softly at the door. Harry jumped up and peered through the eye-hole. Lupin stood, waiting to be let in. He opened the door and stepped aside. "He's right there," Harry said, gesturing to where Malfoy lay.
Lupin went right to Malfoy, kneeling so he could get a better look. "What happened?"
"I woke up and he was there, looking at me." Harry pointed to the corner. "He asked me to help him and when I tried to refuse, he attacked me."
"Attacked you?" Lupin asked, staring up at Harry.
"Yeah, he shoved me to the ground -- and then put his mouth to my throat and then kissed me."
Lupin frowned. He looked at Malfoy, wiping away the sweat from his pale skin. "He's very cold." Lupin felt Malfoy's pulse and then frowned even more. "But his heart is beating faster than normal." His fingers slid down to the arch of his neck, pulling down his collar. Lupin gasped -- he spotted two small puncture holes.
Harry grimaced. "He was bitten?"
"Yes," Lupin said, levitating Malfoy from the ground. "It looks like by a vampire. I need to get him to St. Mungo's."
"And I stay here," Harry said, disappointment in his voice.
"Of course, we can't risk you being seen." Lupin levitated Malfoy to the door. "Don't worry. If they treat it now, he will be fine."
Harry gritted his teeth. He didn't give a damn about Malfoy, even if he could still feel the ghost of his lips and body. Pushing the thought away, Harry could only think about Lupin's safety and how this would affect the war.