(no subject)
Title: Sectumsempra Animi
Chapter: 4--Concession
Author: sakaim
Word count: 5,075 (this chapter; over 20K overall)
Warnings for this chapter: Hee, there's some puke. Also, a slight Harry/Draco/Ron (in that order) possession scene.
Story summary: Draco Malfoy seeks revenge on Harry Potter for Sectumsempra by use of a forbidden love potion. Harry is desperately infatuated with Draco, who exploits his newfound power to control and torture his greatest archnemesis.
Ron and Hermione looked at one another, pained expressions visible to all passers-by. “What is he doing?” Ron muttered to her with a shake of his head, his eyes securely fixed on Harry. Harry and Malfoy had instructed Ron and Hermione to hang back for a few moments whilst they went to speak with the Gringotts goblins about possibly checking a dead person’s vault. It was not this that was the focus of Ron’s attention, but the movements of Harry’s hand as the pair strode across the entrance hall to the bank. Harry’s hand kept making for Malfoy’s, his fingers outstretched, but the moment his fingertips would make contact, Draco’s hand would half-heartedly swipe them away. Harry, not to be deterred, reached his hand out in a try for Draco’s lower back, but the other boy turned to him and snapped something that was lost to Ron and Hermione in the bustle of the bank. “I mean, really, what the hell is going on?”
Hermione tapped her wand distractedly against her knee, her free hand crossed over the front of her casual black robes. “I’ve been looking up all sorts of things on mind control, but any time I go to Harry and try to test out my theories -there are things you can ask that will usually give standard answers which, according to every book I’ve read on it, will pretty much prove that some spell has been cast- I get nothing. He seems almost completely normal about this whole thing, like… Well, I don’t like to think that he and Malfoy have something between them, but…” The look on Ron’s face caused her to trail off, and she shook her head. “I just haven’t been asking the right questions. That must be it.”
“Yes, it must be,” Ron stated conclusively, and he nudged Hermione, forcing her to look up again. There was an obvious argument between Malfoy and one of the goblins, and Harry was looking around nervously. Draco suddenly stumbled back as though he had been punched, and he released a startled yell that drew the eyes of the other patrons before he pulled his wand. Harry grabbed his arm, tried to pull him away, but Draco was yelling, actual words lost in the dull roar of the crowd, which was escalating as the violence increased. There seemed to be a sudden surge of people in front of Ron and Hermione, blocking their view, and Ron stood up on his tiptoes, trying to see over them. “Damn it, what are they doing?” he growled, and the crowd parted to reveal that they were gone. “Hey, wha-!”
There was a hand on his arm, dragging him along at a frantic run, and he yelped when he turned to see Malfoy, looking furious, pulling him through the people. Ron did not even think to ask where they were going, and he turned his head to see Hermione being similarly jostled through the multitude of witches and wizards. He had been so caught up in watching her that he yelled in shock when Draco threw him unceremoniously into a cart and leapt in right behind him. Harry and Hermione jumped in as well, and Harry barked, “Three-seventeen!” before the cart took off into the depths of the bank. He and Malfoy exchanged looks, before sighing and slumping in their seats. “You all right, Draco?”
Ron watched as Draco unfastened his robes and lifted up his shirt gingerly, exposing a blossoming bruise on his pale abdomen. Draco’s fingers probed gently at the greenish flesh before he groaned, and stamped his foot on the bottom of the cart, looking furious. “Bloody goblin punched me,” he explained in response to Hermione’s shocked expression. “They’re vicious creatures! I hope they don’t wonder why everyone hates them; we’d be better off if they went extinct, if you ask me!” He lowered his shirt carefully and fastened his robes again, ignoring the smouldering look of anger on Hermione’s face and the entranced expression on Potter’s.
The four lapsed into silence -they were aware when they went in that there would be the possibility of having to break into the vault- and Harry wished he was sitting beside Draco instead of across from him. That punch had looked as though it had hurt pretty badly, and he had not expected it to bruise like that. It had not escaped him that Ron had looked when Draco lifted his shirt, and he had felt in that moment such a surge of jealousy that he had wanted to leap across the cart and punch him in the face. Draco’s look restrained him, and he slid his foot forward to touch the sides of their feet with a small smile. Draco appeared to not have noticed, and so Harry was content.
They were in the cart for no less than twenty minutes, during which Draco looked very ill. “My vault,” he growled greenly, “is no more than two minutes from the top, and its number is only seventy away from this one! Why isn’t there any fucking order?!” The other three silently agreed with this sentiment, and when the cart finally came to a stop, they all clambered out as quickly as possible. The sudden contact with the ground made Draco sway, and he only had a moment’s warning of a solid, wet knot in his throat before he felt Harry’s hands pulling his hair back. Ron and Hermione had the decency to turn away when he fell to his knees on the dusty platform and vomited into the groove of the tracks. For once, he was thankful to have Potter touching him, those hands keeping his blond hair from falling in the line of fire. When he was finished bringing up his breakfast, he shakily swiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled himself into a standing position by way of Harry’s proffered hand. “Thanks,” he muttered, miserable. “You think anyone will follow us?”
Ron snorted and shook his head. “No. Bill says they don’t bother chasing people who try to break into vaults, since they never come back. Not alive, anyway.” He wore a grim expression as he said this, and he cast suspicious looks around the dirty dungeon of a corridor. “This place gives me the creeps. If we’re going to do this, let’s.”
Harry gulped and walked up to the vault door, looking up to the very top where three gold numbers, 317, glittered in the dim torchlight. The air seemed to be thrumming with Draco’s presence, and he wanted Draco to be standing beside him, holding his hand maybe or even just being within arm’s reach. This place made him inexplicably nervous. He lifted a hand and ran the palm down the vault door. Beyond, there were the sounds of locks clicking and turning, startling Harry, and he took a step back as the door suddenly slid aside, exposing a long corridor with mounds of treasure at the very end. “Blimey,” he heard Ron whisper reverently, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron begin to walk towards it. There was the soft sound of singing, hundreds of voices mingling in the air, and Harry found that he was being drawn into the vault as well.
“Omnia mutantur nos et mutamur in illis.
Omnia vincit amor nos et cedamus amori.
O sancta simplicitas! Res ipsa loquitur!”
Draco’s eyes widened as he watched Harry and Ron, spellbound, begin walking right into the corridor, and it seemed as though he and Granger leapt at the same moment, he seizing the back of Harry’s robes and Hermione snatching Ron’s arm, and together, they pulled the boys back. “What are you thinking?!” Draco hissed, and he turned Harry in his arms to he was facing him. “Are you mad? You think you can just waltz right in, do you?” Of course it had to be a trap- things were never so easy. Harry’s eyes visibly flashed a golden colour, which startled Draco so much that he yelped, but Harry ignored this and grinned sappily, his body relaxing in Draco’s arms. “Wh-what are you doing, Potter?” Draco stammered, glancing over to Granger to see if she could offer any assistance, but Ron was advancing on her in a similar way, though it seemed that she was not putting up any sort of fight. She gave a muffled squeak when Ron leaned right in and kissed her, which brought Draco back to his senses, and he put his fingers up just in time to keep Harry’s lips from landing on his own. “No.”
The kiss had, for Ron, it seemed, broken the strange curse, and he had stumbled back from Hermione, eyes wide and blinking. “Sorry, sorry,” he was mumbling embarrassedly as he brushed off his robes, but then he caught sight of Harry trying to kiss Draco, and he flushed, “Er, Malfoy? As much as I hate to tell you this… um…”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Draco snarled, and he shut his eyes tightly in disgust as he dropped his hand from Potter’s mouth. Immediately, there was the press of Harry’s lips on his own, and he let it linger until Potter tried to slip him the tongue. “All right, enough of that!” He stepped backwards, seeing Harry’s eyes flash again just before a bright blush spread along his face. “Hope you enjoyed that, Potter. You’ve expended all the romance from me.” There was a snort from Ron and a nervous giggle from Hermione, but Harry did not look embarrassed at all. Quite the opposite, really -he looked as though he would have liked to shag Draco right there- but Draco brushed past him and stood at the mouth of the tunnel, inspecting it. “Well,” he said slowly after a moment, and he turned to face the other three, “Potter, you go first. I’ll follow, then Weasley. Granger, you… you be ready to pull us out.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. She had not expected Malfoy to volunteer for anything on this mission, so the fact that he was willing to go in second shocked her beyond belief. She watched as Harry courageously took the first step into the tunnel, freezing briefly inside before he continued down the path. Draco followed immediately, two steps behind Potter, wand raised. He could hear Weasley enter the tunnel close behind him, and when it was clear that Granger would not be following, the singing quadrupled in volume.
“Arduum sane munus, amare et sapere vix deo conceditur!
Amor caecus est; amor ordinem nescit.
Ad fundum, ad infinitem, ad absurdum.
Aeternum vale, aeternum vale, aeternum vale!”
Draco’s head swam with the Latin, and he swayed slightly on his feet. His hands reached out to catch Harry’s hips, and he stumbled forward and into him slightly, but they did not fall. He could feel Ron’s hands on him in turn, but he did not mind that at all, rather felt like kissing him, actually, and he pulled Harry to a stop. Immediately, Harry turned to him and wrapped around him from behind, his mouth on Draco’s cheek and ear, and Ron was there, too, but Ron’s hands rested on both of them, one on Draco’s stomach and one on Harry’s arse. Draco’s mouth opened obediently as Ron’s pressed to it, and the taste of Ron’s tongue in his mouth made his head spin. Harry was moaning in his ear between heavy licks, and Draco could feel Harry’s cock pressing hard and insistent against his arse as Ron’s hands were unbuttoning his robes and delving into his trousers. He felt his robes being removed, and that was wonderful, and his trousers and pants were around his knees then. There was a whispered charm, then he felt the crown of Harry’s cock pressing against him, pressing painfully into him, and he was moaning and crooning into Ron’s mouth.
“Omne trium perfectum…”
Hermione was practically ripping her hair out, jumping up and down and screaming at them. “Stop it! For fuck’s sake! Look out behind you!” Tears erupted over her cheeks when Ron shoved his trousers down as well and bent over in front of Draco, who was crying out in tongues, his eyes rolling back in his head as he moaned a spell not in Latin but in a language she did not comprehend, and then he was spreading Ron’s legs accordingly and pushing into him. Ron was calling out in tongues as well, the language sounding similar to the words spewing from Draco’s mouth, and Harry was chanting loudly with the Latin, screaming, “Omne trium perfectum! Omne trium perfectum!”
They did not feel the heat of fire behind them, did not feel as a great flame reached out for them, licked their flesh, and, to Hermione’s utter horror, seized them as one and jerked them out of sight. The choir voices were singing one endless, harmonised note louder and louder, deafening her, and she was screaming, casting spell after spell down the tunnel but refusing to go down it.
The three were clothed again in a place where time did not seem to exist. Colours, ridiculous colours that could not have existed swirled and waved around them, and Draco could feel Harry’s arms around him. Ron’s head was tucked in against his stomach, and he heard someone, no one, whispering, “O praeclarum costodem ovium lupum…” He realised that his mouth was moving, and he turned his head to face Harry. Green eyes were gazing into his, and he tilted his chin up so their cheeks rested together. “Pavesco,” he gasped against Harry’s ear. “Me serva, Harry, et te servabo…” Ron’s arms tightened around him, and suddenly the whirl of colour became violent, frightening, and the three screamed as one.
Then, suddenly, the three were thrust through that wall of colour and thrown onto the dirt floor beside Hermione, who was choking and sobbing as they lay there, stunned. Her hands seized Ron first, and she hauled him into a sitting position, sobbing into his chest, but he merely blinked at her, trying to clear his mind. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, but she shook her head and merely kept on wailing. Ron cocked an eyebrow and looked up at Harry and Draco. “What happened?”
Harry shook his head, not knowing, but Draco was sitting stock-still except for his violent trembling. “Pavesco…P-pavesco…” I’m shaking, I-I’m shaking. He closed his eyes as Harry’s arms wrapped around him, and he buried his face in Harry’s neck until he could breathe properly again. Hermione had calmed herself down and was now merely leaning against Ron, who looked perfectly confused.
“What happened?” he asked Harry, who shrugged and shook his head. Draco also shook his head, not because he did not remember, but because he did not want to. Ron frowned at Malfoy and embraced Hermione sweetly, watching as Draco stood up and brushed himself off.
“Potter,” Draco said quietly, and he chewed on his lower lip. “Potter, take me home.”
Hermione and Ron had decided that they would buy a few things in Diagon Alley whilst Harry took Malfoy back to the Order Headquarters. The cart ride back up had been quicker than the ride down, which annoyed Draco immensely, but he did not say anything to any of the other three passengers. Harry was sitting next to him this time, and he allowed Harry to keep his arms wrapped around him in concern, but he did not lean into the embrace at all except for those times when the cart made a wide swing and he was pressed into Harry’s side by default. They slipped through the crowd in the lobby, unseen by the goblins, and they were well out of sight of Gringotts before any of them relaxed again. Number twelve, Grimmauld Place was connected to the Floo network for the afternoon, and so Harry and Draco fled to Honeydukes to use their private Floo. The shop was not terribly busy, and the owner smiled at Harry before allowing the boys into the backroom to use the Floo, as was previously agreed upon by the owner and the Weasleys.
They stepped out of the fireplace in the sitting room, and they made their way into the kitchen. Draco leaned back against the counter, lost in thought as he watched Harry pull an apple from the bowl of fruit and begin to eat it at the table. He watched Potter eat as though from a great distance, and whenever Harry glanced over and caught Draco staring, a pretty blush spread out over Harry’s face. He was rather frozen in place under Draco’s stare, the force of it thrumming through his body like a deep drumbeat, and he heard himself whimper softly. He took another bite of the apple and chewed it thoroughly before swallowing, and he watched Draco’s hand as it lifted and turned palm-up. He saw Draco’s finger crook twice, and his heart leapt into his throat as Draco lowered his chin and whispered, “Come here.” As if he needed any more of an invitation. It was as though that finger had a string tied around it that was, on the other end, tied to Harry’s chest. It pulled Harry out of his chair and across the kitchen of the empty house, and he paused just inches from Draco, wanting and needing to touch him, but every touch was so painful when unwanted and there was only so much hurt a man could take. He watched with bated breath as Draco’s hands lifted then rested on his hips, and his heart stopped when Draco pulled him close. He could feel Draco shaking.
Draco smiled as Harry paused before him, knowing that Harry was unsure. He reached out and seized him by his jutting hipbones before he tugged him close, so close that their stomachs were pressed flush together, and he slid his arms around Harry’s waist before he leaned down and easily pressed their lips together in the first true kiss they had ever shared. He was unsure why he was doing it, suspecting that it had something to do with nearly dying in euphoria back at Gringotts, but he pushed reason out of his mind and let himself fall into Harry for now, just for now.
Harry’s heart was fit to burst as Draco leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a kiss that was nearly gentle, and he melted against Draco with a moan. It felt as though ice was pulsing through his veins, and gooseflesh lifted the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. Every contact of his bare skin to Draco -one of Draco’s hands had slipped up to cup the back of his neck and the sides of their noses were touching just slightly above their sealed lips- was on fire, and as Draco’s mouth slid open over his own to give way to a seeking tongue, Harry thought he might just die on the spot. His green eyes were half-open, gazing into Draco’s eyes lustfully, and he opened his mouth obediently when Draco’s tongue, after making a round of Harry’s lips, pressed between them. It wasn’t fair, he thought, that he could be so in love with Draco, and that Draco wasn’t in love with him in return. His heart hammered against his chest as Draco’s eyelashes fluttered and closed in what he could only hope was pleasure. Harry had been aroused since the moment Draco’s finger beckoned him over, and he blushed as he felt his cock pressing against Draco’s thigh, needing to be touched. He ignored it, though, and slipped his arms around Draco’s neck to deepen the kiss.
The feel of Harry’s cock pressing against his thigh did not, as he would have expected, disgust Draco at all. He felt his own loins stirring in response as he tasted Harry’s apple-flavoured tongue and the mouth surrounding it, and he felt the shockwave run through Harry when he pressed his erection against Harry’s thigh in return. He did not want to think about what it meant that this was turning him on, that kissing Harry Potter had any sort of an effect on him, and he blamed it on his shot nerves as he moaned into Harry’s mouth. He could feel Harry’s heart slamming against his ribcage, and when he broke the kiss to pause for breath, the mewl that escaped Harry at the loss nearly caused him to come in his trousers. Harry pressed their foreheads together, panting, and Draco stared deeply into his eyes. “I love you,” Harry gasped before he tilted his head to the side and assaulted Draco’s mouth.
“Fucking hell, Potter,” Draco growled against Harry’s lips, and he lifted him easily off of his feet. Harry’s legs raised and wrapped around Draco’s waist, and he whimpered as Draco stumbled into the drawing room and tumbled with Harry onto the sofa, covering him with his body and rubbing their cocks together through their trousers. His kisses were fierce and biting, but Harry loved them, craved them, and he kissed back with equal ferocity, arms tight around Draco, one hand buried in his hair and the other grasping a handful of a buttock. The soft, wet sounds of their kissing and the rustle of fabric against fabric managed to cover up the sound of the roar of the fireplace in the next room over, and Harry was moaning and writhing up against Draco.
Draco was just drawing Harry’s tongue into his mouth and suckling on it when a choked gasp sounded at the doorway, but neither he nor Harry heard it. Harry’s hand clenched in Draco’s hair, fisting the blond strands that shone faintly even in the dark room, and Harry withdrew his tongue with a gasp before whispering, “Fuck me, Draco…” Draco nodded and Harry shuddered, lifting his hips so Draco could pull his trousers off, but suddenly, Draco was being lifted off of him.
Draco yelped as a hand seized a handful of robes before lifting him completely off of Harry, and he whipped around to see Ron, eyes blazing and lower lip trembling. Harry sat up and then leapt to his feet, grabbing Draco by the front of his robes and tugging him as hard as he could, pleased when Ron’s grip gave and Draco was pulled into his chest. “What the fuck, Ron?!” Harry yelped, and he gasped as Draco attached his lips to Harry’s neck. His knees went weak, and he clung to Draco to keep upright, tilting his head back and groaning. Ron was quavering with fury and Hermione, who was standing in the doorway, was gaping as Draco slid a hand down between Harry’s legs and fondled him through his trousers. “Mmmn, Draco…”
Draco was obviously not expecting Ron to seize him about the shoulders and jerk him away, nor did he expect the fierce right hook to the jaw. He stumbled backwards, snarling like a rabid creature, and he sprung at Ron, fists raised in fury. It had been a while since the two boys had come to fisticuffs, but Draco was no less strong than he had been before, and Ron had seemed shocked that he dared to fight back, so Draco knocked Ron to the ground easily. Ron yelled, sounding inhuman, and Hermione ran over to pull Draco off of Ron, who immediately leapt up and threw himself at Draco again. Harry intercepted this time, however, and shoved Ron backwards with a snarl. “What the hell is your problem?! For fuck’s sake, Ron, wasn’t it obvious we were in the middle of something?!”
“A bit too obvious!” Ron spluttered, and he gaped as Harry moved to pull Draco from Hermione’s grip. Draco jerked away from everyone and, glaring, shook his head warningly at Ron. “Oh, you poor thing!” Ron snapped at him, and Harry stepped between them again. “Harry, he’s the fucking enemy! What are you even doing?!”
“He’s not our fucking enemy, Weasley!” Harry screamed hoarsely, and he felt Draco’s hands on his back, pulling him away from his friends. He let himself be pulled back, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes in his frustration. Draco would have slept with him, would have made love with him, if they hadn’t come in, and they could not possibly understand how painful it was when Draco did not let him touch him, when Draco pushed him away. Even now, as Draco pulled him back and out of the drawing room, every little touch of Draco’s hands sent shivers up his spine. He heard Draco whispering for him to come on, to leave Weasley to his tirade, and he fell back against Draco before they slammed the door closed in Ron’s face. Neither one of them was remotely aroused any more, nor did they run together upstairs to resume where they had left off. Instead, Draco slumped heavily against the wall and released Harry, who was frowning and shaking with fury. “I’m so sorry… Look at you,” Harry breathed, fingering the blossoming bruise on Draco’s jaw-line. “He didn’t have any right to-”
Draco cut him off with a wave of his hand, and he pushed away from the wall. “I need time to myself, okay?” he asked, his tone nasty, and he was both surprised and pleased that Harry nodded and backed off, stomping up the stairs and slamming a door behind him. Draco slapped a hand to his forehead and disappeared into the small library, closing the door behind him. When he turned around to find a seat, he was shocked to find Severus sitting in one of the chairs, arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked. “O-oh. Er, hi,” Draco stuttered, surprised, and he took a seat across from Severus with a heavy sigh. “What a day, eh?”
Severus frowned and leaned forward, staring at his godson in distaste. “Quite a couple of weeks, from what I can understand, Draco,” he stated smoothly, and he observed the kiss-swollen state of Draco’s lips as well as the greenish bruise on the boy’s jaw. “Do you mind telling me what, exactly, is the nature of Potter’s newfound infatuation with you?”
Draco snorted and shook his head. “There’s nothing to tell,” he claimed confidently, as smooth and convincing a liar as his father ever was. He cocked a curious eyebrow at Snape and leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles out of habit. “Potter, like so many others before him, has learned that I am completely irresistible. I mean, can you blame him, really?” Nervousness bloomed suddenly in his stomach, and he looked away towards the window. He did not like when Snape turned his wrath upon him; it made him uncomfortable.
“Oh, yes, that’s feasible,” Snape snorted, and he crossed his arms angrily. “I entrusted you with that book, with that knowledge, and you are putting the entire Order in jeopardy, Draco Malfoy! Do you know what you’re doing? You’re ruining everything! How can Potter possibly save anyone, much less the entire wizarding world, from Voldemort when he is too preoccupied with staring and swooning every time you make your presence known?”
Draco scoffed at this and rolled his eyes dramatically. “I don’t know what you’re tal-”
“What a load of rubbish!” Severus snarled, standing suddenly and towering over Draco. “I demand that you give Potter the antidote to that potion immediately! Exact your petty little revenge later, for Merlin’s sake!” He stared down at the boy, outrage blossoming in his belly as Draco rolled his eyes and looked away. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he reached down to lay a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I know you’re lonely by yourself here, Draco,” he said gently, and he frowned as Draco’s eyes fell shut. “I know that, and I know that you’re not used to being on your own in anything, but you can’t go around feeding love potions to your enemies. It’s just not practical…”
“Leave me alone,” Draco muttered, and he stood, shoving past Severus and scowling when he reached the door. “Have you told anyone?”
Snape closed his eyes and gripped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Of course not.”
“Well, don’t.”
Draco was dimly aware of an Order meeting going on downstairs as he took a shower, trying to relax concerning the day’s earlier events. The memories of the time spent in limbo shook him, though he was not sure now which ones were real and which were fantasy. He knew that he never would have fucked Weasley or allowed Potter to fuck him, so he wrote that memory off as false, but he remembered the Latin, echoing in his head.
“Arduum sane munus, amare et sapere vix deo conceditur!
Amor caecus est; amor ordinem nescit.
Ad fundum, ad infinitem, ad absurdum.
Aeternum vale, aeternum vale, aeternum vale!”
He shuddered and turned the shower off, stepping out of it and drying himself half-heartedly before wrapping a robe around himself. He padded out of the bathroom and to the bedroom, not bothering to get dressed before he lay down on the bed and pressed his wet head into the pillow. Just as he was falling asleep, he heard the door swing open, but did not lift his head. The door clicked shut a moment later, and the mattress dipped behind him before a hand rested on his hip. “Draco?” It was Harry’s voice, soft and cautious, and he rolled over to look up into Potter’s face. “Draco, the meeting’s over.”
“Oh,” Draco whispered noncommittally, and he blinked as Potter leaned down to kiss him under his ear. He allowed it only because he was exhausted and had no desire whatsoever to fight anyone.
“Well, they have intelligence that… that the Death Eaters are planning a raid on the Ministry next week. We’re going to go fight,” Harry claimed, and he lay down on his side beside Draco. His arm started to slip around Draco’s middle, but Draco shook his head and Harry withdrew his arm immediately. “Will you fight with us? With… with me?”
Draco blinked and shrugged before he closed his eyes and got comfortable on the pillows. “I don’t know.” He was half-asleep already, and he did not mind so much when Potter tried snuggling up to him again. Harry leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Draco’s mouth, and Draco pecked him on the lips sleepily before he allowed himself to fall asleep.
Chapter One
Chapter Three, Chapter Five
Chapter: 4--Concession
Author: sakaim
Word count: 5,075 (this chapter; over 20K overall)
Warnings for this chapter: Hee, there's some puke. Also, a slight Harry/Draco/Ron (in that order) possession scene.
Story summary: Draco Malfoy seeks revenge on Harry Potter for Sectumsempra by use of a forbidden love potion. Harry is desperately infatuated with Draco, who exploits his newfound power to control and torture his greatest archnemesis.
Ron and Hermione looked at one another, pained expressions visible to all passers-by. “What is he doing?” Ron muttered to her with a shake of his head, his eyes securely fixed on Harry. Harry and Malfoy had instructed Ron and Hermione to hang back for a few moments whilst they went to speak with the Gringotts goblins about possibly checking a dead person’s vault. It was not this that was the focus of Ron’s attention, but the movements of Harry’s hand as the pair strode across the entrance hall to the bank. Harry’s hand kept making for Malfoy’s, his fingers outstretched, but the moment his fingertips would make contact, Draco’s hand would half-heartedly swipe them away. Harry, not to be deterred, reached his hand out in a try for Draco’s lower back, but the other boy turned to him and snapped something that was lost to Ron and Hermione in the bustle of the bank. “I mean, really, what the hell is going on?”
Hermione tapped her wand distractedly against her knee, her free hand crossed over the front of her casual black robes. “I’ve been looking up all sorts of things on mind control, but any time I go to Harry and try to test out my theories -there are things you can ask that will usually give standard answers which, according to every book I’ve read on it, will pretty much prove that some spell has been cast- I get nothing. He seems almost completely normal about this whole thing, like… Well, I don’t like to think that he and Malfoy have something between them, but…” The look on Ron’s face caused her to trail off, and she shook her head. “I just haven’t been asking the right questions. That must be it.”
“Yes, it must be,” Ron stated conclusively, and he nudged Hermione, forcing her to look up again. There was an obvious argument between Malfoy and one of the goblins, and Harry was looking around nervously. Draco suddenly stumbled back as though he had been punched, and he released a startled yell that drew the eyes of the other patrons before he pulled his wand. Harry grabbed his arm, tried to pull him away, but Draco was yelling, actual words lost in the dull roar of the crowd, which was escalating as the violence increased. There seemed to be a sudden surge of people in front of Ron and Hermione, blocking their view, and Ron stood up on his tiptoes, trying to see over them. “Damn it, what are they doing?” he growled, and the crowd parted to reveal that they were gone. “Hey, wha-!”
There was a hand on his arm, dragging him along at a frantic run, and he yelped when he turned to see Malfoy, looking furious, pulling him through the people. Ron did not even think to ask where they were going, and he turned his head to see Hermione being similarly jostled through the multitude of witches and wizards. He had been so caught up in watching her that he yelled in shock when Draco threw him unceremoniously into a cart and leapt in right behind him. Harry and Hermione jumped in as well, and Harry barked, “Three-seventeen!” before the cart took off into the depths of the bank. He and Malfoy exchanged looks, before sighing and slumping in their seats. “You all right, Draco?”
Ron watched as Draco unfastened his robes and lifted up his shirt gingerly, exposing a blossoming bruise on his pale abdomen. Draco’s fingers probed gently at the greenish flesh before he groaned, and stamped his foot on the bottom of the cart, looking furious. “Bloody goblin punched me,” he explained in response to Hermione’s shocked expression. “They’re vicious creatures! I hope they don’t wonder why everyone hates them; we’d be better off if they went extinct, if you ask me!” He lowered his shirt carefully and fastened his robes again, ignoring the smouldering look of anger on Hermione’s face and the entranced expression on Potter’s.
The four lapsed into silence -they were aware when they went in that there would be the possibility of having to break into the vault- and Harry wished he was sitting beside Draco instead of across from him. That punch had looked as though it had hurt pretty badly, and he had not expected it to bruise like that. It had not escaped him that Ron had looked when Draco lifted his shirt, and he had felt in that moment such a surge of jealousy that he had wanted to leap across the cart and punch him in the face. Draco’s look restrained him, and he slid his foot forward to touch the sides of their feet with a small smile. Draco appeared to not have noticed, and so Harry was content.
They were in the cart for no less than twenty minutes, during which Draco looked very ill. “My vault,” he growled greenly, “is no more than two minutes from the top, and its number is only seventy away from this one! Why isn’t there any fucking order?!” The other three silently agreed with this sentiment, and when the cart finally came to a stop, they all clambered out as quickly as possible. The sudden contact with the ground made Draco sway, and he only had a moment’s warning of a solid, wet knot in his throat before he felt Harry’s hands pulling his hair back. Ron and Hermione had the decency to turn away when he fell to his knees on the dusty platform and vomited into the groove of the tracks. For once, he was thankful to have Potter touching him, those hands keeping his blond hair from falling in the line of fire. When he was finished bringing up his breakfast, he shakily swiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled himself into a standing position by way of Harry’s proffered hand. “Thanks,” he muttered, miserable. “You think anyone will follow us?”
Ron snorted and shook his head. “No. Bill says they don’t bother chasing people who try to break into vaults, since they never come back. Not alive, anyway.” He wore a grim expression as he said this, and he cast suspicious looks around the dirty dungeon of a corridor. “This place gives me the creeps. If we’re going to do this, let’s.”
Harry gulped and walked up to the vault door, looking up to the very top where three gold numbers, 317, glittered in the dim torchlight. The air seemed to be thrumming with Draco’s presence, and he wanted Draco to be standing beside him, holding his hand maybe or even just being within arm’s reach. This place made him inexplicably nervous. He lifted a hand and ran the palm down the vault door. Beyond, there were the sounds of locks clicking and turning, startling Harry, and he took a step back as the door suddenly slid aside, exposing a long corridor with mounds of treasure at the very end. “Blimey,” he heard Ron whisper reverently, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron begin to walk towards it. There was the soft sound of singing, hundreds of voices mingling in the air, and Harry found that he was being drawn into the vault as well.
“Omnia mutantur nos et mutamur in illis.
Omnia vincit amor nos et cedamus amori.
O sancta simplicitas! Res ipsa loquitur!”
Draco’s eyes widened as he watched Harry and Ron, spellbound, begin walking right into the corridor, and it seemed as though he and Granger leapt at the same moment, he seizing the back of Harry’s robes and Hermione snatching Ron’s arm, and together, they pulled the boys back. “What are you thinking?!” Draco hissed, and he turned Harry in his arms to he was facing him. “Are you mad? You think you can just waltz right in, do you?” Of course it had to be a trap- things were never so easy. Harry’s eyes visibly flashed a golden colour, which startled Draco so much that he yelped, but Harry ignored this and grinned sappily, his body relaxing in Draco’s arms. “Wh-what are you doing, Potter?” Draco stammered, glancing over to Granger to see if she could offer any assistance, but Ron was advancing on her in a similar way, though it seemed that she was not putting up any sort of fight. She gave a muffled squeak when Ron leaned right in and kissed her, which brought Draco back to his senses, and he put his fingers up just in time to keep Harry’s lips from landing on his own. “No.”
The kiss had, for Ron, it seemed, broken the strange curse, and he had stumbled back from Hermione, eyes wide and blinking. “Sorry, sorry,” he was mumbling embarrassedly as he brushed off his robes, but then he caught sight of Harry trying to kiss Draco, and he flushed, “Er, Malfoy? As much as I hate to tell you this… um…”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Draco snarled, and he shut his eyes tightly in disgust as he dropped his hand from Potter’s mouth. Immediately, there was the press of Harry’s lips on his own, and he let it linger until Potter tried to slip him the tongue. “All right, enough of that!” He stepped backwards, seeing Harry’s eyes flash again just before a bright blush spread along his face. “Hope you enjoyed that, Potter. You’ve expended all the romance from me.” There was a snort from Ron and a nervous giggle from Hermione, but Harry did not look embarrassed at all. Quite the opposite, really -he looked as though he would have liked to shag Draco right there- but Draco brushed past him and stood at the mouth of the tunnel, inspecting it. “Well,” he said slowly after a moment, and he turned to face the other three, “Potter, you go first. I’ll follow, then Weasley. Granger, you… you be ready to pull us out.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. She had not expected Malfoy to volunteer for anything on this mission, so the fact that he was willing to go in second shocked her beyond belief. She watched as Harry courageously took the first step into the tunnel, freezing briefly inside before he continued down the path. Draco followed immediately, two steps behind Potter, wand raised. He could hear Weasley enter the tunnel close behind him, and when it was clear that Granger would not be following, the singing quadrupled in volume.
“Arduum sane munus, amare et sapere vix deo conceditur!
Amor caecus est; amor ordinem nescit.
Ad fundum, ad infinitem, ad absurdum.
Aeternum vale, aeternum vale, aeternum vale!”
Draco’s head swam with the Latin, and he swayed slightly on his feet. His hands reached out to catch Harry’s hips, and he stumbled forward and into him slightly, but they did not fall. He could feel Ron’s hands on him in turn, but he did not mind that at all, rather felt like kissing him, actually, and he pulled Harry to a stop. Immediately, Harry turned to him and wrapped around him from behind, his mouth on Draco’s cheek and ear, and Ron was there, too, but Ron’s hands rested on both of them, one on Draco’s stomach and one on Harry’s arse. Draco’s mouth opened obediently as Ron’s pressed to it, and the taste of Ron’s tongue in his mouth made his head spin. Harry was moaning in his ear between heavy licks, and Draco could feel Harry’s cock pressing hard and insistent against his arse as Ron’s hands were unbuttoning his robes and delving into his trousers. He felt his robes being removed, and that was wonderful, and his trousers and pants were around his knees then. There was a whispered charm, then he felt the crown of Harry’s cock pressing against him, pressing painfully into him, and he was moaning and crooning into Ron’s mouth.
“Omne trium perfectum…”
Hermione was practically ripping her hair out, jumping up and down and screaming at them. “Stop it! For fuck’s sake! Look out behind you!” Tears erupted over her cheeks when Ron shoved his trousers down as well and bent over in front of Draco, who was crying out in tongues, his eyes rolling back in his head as he moaned a spell not in Latin but in a language she did not comprehend, and then he was spreading Ron’s legs accordingly and pushing into him. Ron was calling out in tongues as well, the language sounding similar to the words spewing from Draco’s mouth, and Harry was chanting loudly with the Latin, screaming, “Omne trium perfectum! Omne trium perfectum!”
They did not feel the heat of fire behind them, did not feel as a great flame reached out for them, licked their flesh, and, to Hermione’s utter horror, seized them as one and jerked them out of sight. The choir voices were singing one endless, harmonised note louder and louder, deafening her, and she was screaming, casting spell after spell down the tunnel but refusing to go down it.
The three were clothed again in a place where time did not seem to exist. Colours, ridiculous colours that could not have existed swirled and waved around them, and Draco could feel Harry’s arms around him. Ron’s head was tucked in against his stomach, and he heard someone, no one, whispering, “O praeclarum costodem ovium lupum…” He realised that his mouth was moving, and he turned his head to face Harry. Green eyes were gazing into his, and he tilted his chin up so their cheeks rested together. “Pavesco,” he gasped against Harry’s ear. “Me serva, Harry, et te servabo…” Ron’s arms tightened around him, and suddenly the whirl of colour became violent, frightening, and the three screamed as one.
Then, suddenly, the three were thrust through that wall of colour and thrown onto the dirt floor beside Hermione, who was choking and sobbing as they lay there, stunned. Her hands seized Ron first, and she hauled him into a sitting position, sobbing into his chest, but he merely blinked at her, trying to clear his mind. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, but she shook her head and merely kept on wailing. Ron cocked an eyebrow and looked up at Harry and Draco. “What happened?”
Harry shook his head, not knowing, but Draco was sitting stock-still except for his violent trembling. “Pavesco…P-pavesco…” I’m shaking, I-I’m shaking. He closed his eyes as Harry’s arms wrapped around him, and he buried his face in Harry’s neck until he could breathe properly again. Hermione had calmed herself down and was now merely leaning against Ron, who looked perfectly confused.
“What happened?” he asked Harry, who shrugged and shook his head. Draco also shook his head, not because he did not remember, but because he did not want to. Ron frowned at Malfoy and embraced Hermione sweetly, watching as Draco stood up and brushed himself off.
“Potter,” Draco said quietly, and he chewed on his lower lip. “Potter, take me home.”
Hermione and Ron had decided that they would buy a few things in Diagon Alley whilst Harry took Malfoy back to the Order Headquarters. The cart ride back up had been quicker than the ride down, which annoyed Draco immensely, but he did not say anything to any of the other three passengers. Harry was sitting next to him this time, and he allowed Harry to keep his arms wrapped around him in concern, but he did not lean into the embrace at all except for those times when the cart made a wide swing and he was pressed into Harry’s side by default. They slipped through the crowd in the lobby, unseen by the goblins, and they were well out of sight of Gringotts before any of them relaxed again. Number twelve, Grimmauld Place was connected to the Floo network for the afternoon, and so Harry and Draco fled to Honeydukes to use their private Floo. The shop was not terribly busy, and the owner smiled at Harry before allowing the boys into the backroom to use the Floo, as was previously agreed upon by the owner and the Weasleys.
They stepped out of the fireplace in the sitting room, and they made their way into the kitchen. Draco leaned back against the counter, lost in thought as he watched Harry pull an apple from the bowl of fruit and begin to eat it at the table. He watched Potter eat as though from a great distance, and whenever Harry glanced over and caught Draco staring, a pretty blush spread out over Harry’s face. He was rather frozen in place under Draco’s stare, the force of it thrumming through his body like a deep drumbeat, and he heard himself whimper softly. He took another bite of the apple and chewed it thoroughly before swallowing, and he watched Draco’s hand as it lifted and turned palm-up. He saw Draco’s finger crook twice, and his heart leapt into his throat as Draco lowered his chin and whispered, “Come here.” As if he needed any more of an invitation. It was as though that finger had a string tied around it that was, on the other end, tied to Harry’s chest. It pulled Harry out of his chair and across the kitchen of the empty house, and he paused just inches from Draco, wanting and needing to touch him, but every touch was so painful when unwanted and there was only so much hurt a man could take. He watched with bated breath as Draco’s hands lifted then rested on his hips, and his heart stopped when Draco pulled him close. He could feel Draco shaking.
Draco smiled as Harry paused before him, knowing that Harry was unsure. He reached out and seized him by his jutting hipbones before he tugged him close, so close that their stomachs were pressed flush together, and he slid his arms around Harry’s waist before he leaned down and easily pressed their lips together in the first true kiss they had ever shared. He was unsure why he was doing it, suspecting that it had something to do with nearly dying in euphoria back at Gringotts, but he pushed reason out of his mind and let himself fall into Harry for now, just for now.
Harry’s heart was fit to burst as Draco leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a kiss that was nearly gentle, and he melted against Draco with a moan. It felt as though ice was pulsing through his veins, and gooseflesh lifted the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. Every contact of his bare skin to Draco -one of Draco’s hands had slipped up to cup the back of his neck and the sides of their noses were touching just slightly above their sealed lips- was on fire, and as Draco’s mouth slid open over his own to give way to a seeking tongue, Harry thought he might just die on the spot. His green eyes were half-open, gazing into Draco’s eyes lustfully, and he opened his mouth obediently when Draco’s tongue, after making a round of Harry’s lips, pressed between them. It wasn’t fair, he thought, that he could be so in love with Draco, and that Draco wasn’t in love with him in return. His heart hammered against his chest as Draco’s eyelashes fluttered and closed in what he could only hope was pleasure. Harry had been aroused since the moment Draco’s finger beckoned him over, and he blushed as he felt his cock pressing against Draco’s thigh, needing to be touched. He ignored it, though, and slipped his arms around Draco’s neck to deepen the kiss.
The feel of Harry’s cock pressing against his thigh did not, as he would have expected, disgust Draco at all. He felt his own loins stirring in response as he tasted Harry’s apple-flavoured tongue and the mouth surrounding it, and he felt the shockwave run through Harry when he pressed his erection against Harry’s thigh in return. He did not want to think about what it meant that this was turning him on, that kissing Harry Potter had any sort of an effect on him, and he blamed it on his shot nerves as he moaned into Harry’s mouth. He could feel Harry’s heart slamming against his ribcage, and when he broke the kiss to pause for breath, the mewl that escaped Harry at the loss nearly caused him to come in his trousers. Harry pressed their foreheads together, panting, and Draco stared deeply into his eyes. “I love you,” Harry gasped before he tilted his head to the side and assaulted Draco’s mouth.
“Fucking hell, Potter,” Draco growled against Harry’s lips, and he lifted him easily off of his feet. Harry’s legs raised and wrapped around Draco’s waist, and he whimpered as Draco stumbled into the drawing room and tumbled with Harry onto the sofa, covering him with his body and rubbing their cocks together through their trousers. His kisses were fierce and biting, but Harry loved them, craved them, and he kissed back with equal ferocity, arms tight around Draco, one hand buried in his hair and the other grasping a handful of a buttock. The soft, wet sounds of their kissing and the rustle of fabric against fabric managed to cover up the sound of the roar of the fireplace in the next room over, and Harry was moaning and writhing up against Draco.
Draco was just drawing Harry’s tongue into his mouth and suckling on it when a choked gasp sounded at the doorway, but neither he nor Harry heard it. Harry’s hand clenched in Draco’s hair, fisting the blond strands that shone faintly even in the dark room, and Harry withdrew his tongue with a gasp before whispering, “Fuck me, Draco…” Draco nodded and Harry shuddered, lifting his hips so Draco could pull his trousers off, but suddenly, Draco was being lifted off of him.
Draco yelped as a hand seized a handful of robes before lifting him completely off of Harry, and he whipped around to see Ron, eyes blazing and lower lip trembling. Harry sat up and then leapt to his feet, grabbing Draco by the front of his robes and tugging him as hard as he could, pleased when Ron’s grip gave and Draco was pulled into his chest. “What the fuck, Ron?!” Harry yelped, and he gasped as Draco attached his lips to Harry’s neck. His knees went weak, and he clung to Draco to keep upright, tilting his head back and groaning. Ron was quavering with fury and Hermione, who was standing in the doorway, was gaping as Draco slid a hand down between Harry’s legs and fondled him through his trousers. “Mmmn, Draco…”
Draco was obviously not expecting Ron to seize him about the shoulders and jerk him away, nor did he expect the fierce right hook to the jaw. He stumbled backwards, snarling like a rabid creature, and he sprung at Ron, fists raised in fury. It had been a while since the two boys had come to fisticuffs, but Draco was no less strong than he had been before, and Ron had seemed shocked that he dared to fight back, so Draco knocked Ron to the ground easily. Ron yelled, sounding inhuman, and Hermione ran over to pull Draco off of Ron, who immediately leapt up and threw himself at Draco again. Harry intercepted this time, however, and shoved Ron backwards with a snarl. “What the hell is your problem?! For fuck’s sake, Ron, wasn’t it obvious we were in the middle of something?!”
“A bit too obvious!” Ron spluttered, and he gaped as Harry moved to pull Draco from Hermione’s grip. Draco jerked away from everyone and, glaring, shook his head warningly at Ron. “Oh, you poor thing!” Ron snapped at him, and Harry stepped between them again. “Harry, he’s the fucking enemy! What are you even doing?!”
“He’s not our fucking enemy, Weasley!” Harry screamed hoarsely, and he felt Draco’s hands on his back, pulling him away from his friends. He let himself be pulled back, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes in his frustration. Draco would have slept with him, would have made love with him, if they hadn’t come in, and they could not possibly understand how painful it was when Draco did not let him touch him, when Draco pushed him away. Even now, as Draco pulled him back and out of the drawing room, every little touch of Draco’s hands sent shivers up his spine. He heard Draco whispering for him to come on, to leave Weasley to his tirade, and he fell back against Draco before they slammed the door closed in Ron’s face. Neither one of them was remotely aroused any more, nor did they run together upstairs to resume where they had left off. Instead, Draco slumped heavily against the wall and released Harry, who was frowning and shaking with fury. “I’m so sorry… Look at you,” Harry breathed, fingering the blossoming bruise on Draco’s jaw-line. “He didn’t have any right to-”
Draco cut him off with a wave of his hand, and he pushed away from the wall. “I need time to myself, okay?” he asked, his tone nasty, and he was both surprised and pleased that Harry nodded and backed off, stomping up the stairs and slamming a door behind him. Draco slapped a hand to his forehead and disappeared into the small library, closing the door behind him. When he turned around to find a seat, he was shocked to find Severus sitting in one of the chairs, arms crossed and an eyebrow cocked. “O-oh. Er, hi,” Draco stuttered, surprised, and he took a seat across from Severus with a heavy sigh. “What a day, eh?”
Severus frowned and leaned forward, staring at his godson in distaste. “Quite a couple of weeks, from what I can understand, Draco,” he stated smoothly, and he observed the kiss-swollen state of Draco’s lips as well as the greenish bruise on the boy’s jaw. “Do you mind telling me what, exactly, is the nature of Potter’s newfound infatuation with you?”
Draco snorted and shook his head. “There’s nothing to tell,” he claimed confidently, as smooth and convincing a liar as his father ever was. He cocked a curious eyebrow at Snape and leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles out of habit. “Potter, like so many others before him, has learned that I am completely irresistible. I mean, can you blame him, really?” Nervousness bloomed suddenly in his stomach, and he looked away towards the window. He did not like when Snape turned his wrath upon him; it made him uncomfortable.
“Oh, yes, that’s feasible,” Snape snorted, and he crossed his arms angrily. “I entrusted you with that book, with that knowledge, and you are putting the entire Order in jeopardy, Draco Malfoy! Do you know what you’re doing? You’re ruining everything! How can Potter possibly save anyone, much less the entire wizarding world, from Voldemort when he is too preoccupied with staring and swooning every time you make your presence known?”
Draco scoffed at this and rolled his eyes dramatically. “I don’t know what you’re tal-”
“What a load of rubbish!” Severus snarled, standing suddenly and towering over Draco. “I demand that you give Potter the antidote to that potion immediately! Exact your petty little revenge later, for Merlin’s sake!” He stared down at the boy, outrage blossoming in his belly as Draco rolled his eyes and looked away. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he reached down to lay a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I know you’re lonely by yourself here, Draco,” he said gently, and he frowned as Draco’s eyes fell shut. “I know that, and I know that you’re not used to being on your own in anything, but you can’t go around feeding love potions to your enemies. It’s just not practical…”
“Leave me alone,” Draco muttered, and he stood, shoving past Severus and scowling when he reached the door. “Have you told anyone?”
Snape closed his eyes and gripped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Of course not.”
“Well, don’t.”
Draco was dimly aware of an Order meeting going on downstairs as he took a shower, trying to relax concerning the day’s earlier events. The memories of the time spent in limbo shook him, though he was not sure now which ones were real and which were fantasy. He knew that he never would have fucked Weasley or allowed Potter to fuck him, so he wrote that memory off as false, but he remembered the Latin, echoing in his head.
“Arduum sane munus, amare et sapere vix deo conceditur!
Amor caecus est; amor ordinem nescit.
Ad fundum, ad infinitem, ad absurdum.
Aeternum vale, aeternum vale, aeternum vale!”
He shuddered and turned the shower off, stepping out of it and drying himself half-heartedly before wrapping a robe around himself. He padded out of the bathroom and to the bedroom, not bothering to get dressed before he lay down on the bed and pressed his wet head into the pillow. Just as he was falling asleep, he heard the door swing open, but did not lift his head. The door clicked shut a moment later, and the mattress dipped behind him before a hand rested on his hip. “Draco?” It was Harry’s voice, soft and cautious, and he rolled over to look up into Potter’s face. “Draco, the meeting’s over.”
“Oh,” Draco whispered noncommittally, and he blinked as Potter leaned down to kiss him under his ear. He allowed it only because he was exhausted and had no desire whatsoever to fight anyone.
“Well, they have intelligence that… that the Death Eaters are planning a raid on the Ministry next week. We’re going to go fight,” Harry claimed, and he lay down on his side beside Draco. His arm started to slip around Draco’s middle, but Draco shook his head and Harry withdrew his arm immediately. “Will you fight with us? With… with me?”
Draco blinked and shrugged before he closed his eyes and got comfortable on the pillows. “I don’t know.” He was half-asleep already, and he did not mind so much when Potter tried snuggling up to him again. Harry leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Draco’s mouth, and Draco pecked him on the lips sleepily before he allowed himself to fall asleep.
Chapter One
Chapter Three, Chapter Five