Conquering
Title: Conquering
Rating: PG
Length: 2678 oneshot
Genre: Romance/General
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Forcing through the heavy muffle over his mind, he tried to recall where he was. Wherever he was it was pitch black.
Note: Written for hump_day101 challenge 'relinguish control' (fluff). Also based on this picture by Eneada.
Harry’s head felt like a herd of drunken hippogriffs had trundled through it, bumping and falling against the border, maybe even kicking him on his side and shoulder a bit because they hurt too. He fingered a scratch on his stomach, realizing his shirt was torn and dangling around his waist. Forcing through the heavy muffle over his mind, he tried to recall where he was. Wherever he was, it was pitch black.
He ran a hand through his hair then stopped because it caused uncomfortable throbbing to pulsate behind his temple. Slowly, his memory returned to him. He remembered being with Ron and Hermione. They had followed a stray Death Eater to the Malfoy Manor, where apparently Voldemort was taking residence.
The three of them had found Nagini, the last horcrux beside Voldemort himself, and attacked her. Did they kill her? She put of one hell of a fight if Harry’s aching shoulder and side said anything. Only…
When had he got hit on the head? He remembered Ron almost getting bit by Nagini, Hermione expelliarmusing him out of Nagini’s reach, and him throwing the killing curse at the snake. Then…then blackness. Blackness similar to the one he was now positioned in though by the way his head throbbed he must have gotten knocked out and positioned in this place. Were Ron and Hermione okay?
Ever so slowly a door creaked open, stopped, and then started again. Harry drew his leg up to his body; he was sitting on some type of furniture. A bed by the way the springs protested against his movement.
The silhouette of a man stood in the doorway. There was a faint light behind him, enough that Harry could make out shadows in the room but nothing else. The man pulled out something long and skinny, his wand no doubt, and whispered “Lumos.”
Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the light, insanely bright after the deep darkness. The person gasped, and Harry forced his eyes open. He had to be aware if he was going to be attacked.
Harry found himself staring into the troubled face of Draco Malfoy.
He didn’t know why but Harry had expected Draco to look different from their last meeting, only four months ago that seemed like a lifetime. But time had done nothing to the blond boy. He looked the exact same. Sharp pointed face, light blond hair falling over his eyebrows and licking his ears. Those ears that Harry used to lick, pushing the silky hair away so he could take them.
“Are you…?” Draco questioned but Harry wasn’t sure what he was asking, and Draco didn’t seem to know either. He took a few tentative steps towards Harry, paused, then all but ran the rest of the way, stopping just shy of running into him.
Harry reached his hand through the thick air towards Draco. He trailed his finger over the back of his hand. Draco dropped his wand onto the bed with a soft puff emanating from his breath. The same puff he gave that night ten months ago at the Slytherin-Gryffindor get-together Dumbledore had fashioned in hopes of interhouse unity.
The puff he’d made when Harry, under Seamus’ dare, hesitantly touched his face before coving his lips with his own. The puff that had started it all because it was what made Harry come back again, in secret. Without a dare on him.
“Where am I?” Harry asked because it was easer to ask something relevant like that than “Do you still want to touch me?” which Harry found he desperately needed to know even though he’d thought about Draco only a few times since Draco had fled with Snape after the death of Dumbledore. The very Dumbledore who started their relationship, though that’s not what Harry had called it.
Was it a relationship? Because they didn’t talk at first. It was all about touch. Then the first thing they talked about wasn’t really talking but arguing because Harry wanted to know what Draco was getting up to, and Draco kept saying it wasn’t his business. Their meetings seized to exist for three weeks, when Draco sought him out and said to meet him in the room of requirement at ten.
They never talked about what Draco was up to after that though it always hung between them, suffocating them. Or at least that was how Harry had felt, like he was being suffocated every time he was with Draco. Only, it was a nice suffocation. A pleasant one. One he kept going back to.
“Woods behind my house,” Draco answered after a lengthy pause, as if he had to collect his thoughts before answering. “Death Eater area. They captured you. Vol - He’s going to kill you,” his voice rose a few octaves on the last two words.
“Oh,” Harry simply said because it was only an amount of time before he would get captured, and Draco was chewing on his lip.
“I…you…” Draco trailed off, one of the few times Harry had seen him blunder. But then a body was on top of him, lips crashing onto his and hands tangling in his hair. It took a moment for him to realize that Draco was kissing him and about five minutes of participation for Harry to realize that he had missed Draco.
Fingers trailed over his stomach, lower, lower, and Harry arced against him, moaning in pleasure. It’d been way too long.
“Oh, Gods,” Draco breathed, grinding into Harry and then his ear was being sucked. He started murmuring nonsense. Harry had forgotten how sensitive Draco’s ears were, the way he withered against him. Harry skittered his fingers lightly over Draco, wishing the clothes were gone, and entwined their fingers together.
He connected their lips again. This kiss was different then the ones they just shared. It reminded Harry of their first kiss despite the fact that the only thing the two kisses shared was that it was needed. Their first kiss was needed because of a dare and this kiss was needed simply because they needed it. Harry found the answer to his previous unasked question and Draco squeezed his hand before pulling away.
Panting, Draco pressed Harry’s wand into his hands and said, “You’ve got to escape.”
“How’d you get my wand?” He hadn’t even realized it was missing. Moody would be angry that his teaching did nothing.
“Stole it along with the key to get into here. Now, go,” he commanded.
Harry gaped at him. He stole to get to him. Harry reached across the air towards him - air that seemed much lighter now - but Draco flinched away from him. “What? Well, where’s Voldemort at? Was Nagini killed? I’ve got to kill him.”
Draco glared at him, standing from the bed. “Yes, the snake is dead. And no, you will escape. I didn’t go through the trouble of getting to you for you only to go and get yourself killed! You have no help, anyway,” he added.
“So you’re still on Voldemort’s side!” Harry accused, standing up too. He wouldn’t want Draco to fight but…
“I never said that,” he answered coolly. He glanced at the open door. “And keep your voice down.”
Harry huffed and diverted his eyes by staring at his wand, fingers running up and down the length.
“Promise me you won’t go after him,” Draco pleaded, frantic, and Harry’s head shot up at the tone. His eyes softened but his voice was decisive.
“I can’t do that, Draco. I have to go after him.” This time Draco let him grab his hand and stroke it. He leaned into the touch and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, which objected against the weight, but Harry ignored it to instead plant kisses in Draco’s hair.
“But I don’t want you to,” he whined.
Harry pulled away. “It doesn’t matter what you want.” He said it harsher than he meant to and tried stroking Draco’s face but was batted away.
Draco’s face turned red slightly. “Well, I’m letting you out so you’ll do what I say! And you’re not - not - going after him!”
“Draco…”
“No! Just give up, Harry. Come back when you have more support -”
“Voldemort will have moved on by then, knowing I went to get help.”
“I don’t care! Give up! Abandon! Let go! I don’t care just don’t go after him without help.” His voice dwindled to a hoarse whisper and he turned around quickly. Harry knew from past experiences that it meant he was getting emotional and wished to not display it.
“I’m not going to ‘relinquish control,’” Harry said, mocking the words he knew Draco was thinking but avoiding because they were the words some Death Eaters used at an attack a few weeks ago, speaking about the death of Kingsley Shacklebolt. How Harry was sure Draco knew, he didn’t know but could tell he was right by Draco’s reaction.
Draco flushed. “I never said…I….er!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! Go and get yourself killed for all I care.” He huffed and rushed to the door, and then paused. “Granger and Weasley are in the last room to the right. At least get them to help.”
Harry stared him in the eye. “Okay.” He passed Draco, their sleeves brushing together. Draco’s scent was sweet, welcome in the musty building they were standing in. “Do you - er - want to come with?”
Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Fight?”
“Er - no. After. Come home with us.” Harry smiled hesitantly.
“Home?” Draco scoffed and walked down the hallway, away from him. His footsteps sounded deafening in the silence.
“They’ll think you’re a Death Eater too,” Harry called softly after him. He knew Draco was one but hoped he wasn’t at heart.
“Would you let them think that?” He looked him in the eye as best he could from four doors down.
“If they thought that, would it be true?”
Draco smirked and walked around the corner. “I thought I had decided back in that room.”
Harry heard but barely. Desperately he rushed out, “When you kissed me or said you wouldn’t help?”
But there was no answer.
Harry trailed his hand along the damp stone wall as he walked the opposite way as Draco. He couldn’t remember if he was supposed to go left or right but didn’t want to follow Draco in case he appeared to be running to him for an answer. He didn’t want to appear needy.
“Pst! Ron! Hermione!” Harry whispered loudly against the last door in the hallway. He hoped there wasn’t a silencing charm on the door. And how was he supposed to get in anyway? His hand closed on the door and it turned easily. A hand griped his sore shoulder, nails digging through his shirt into his flesh.
He turned to stare in the face of Voldemort, smiling evilly.
“What a delight,” Voldemort crackled. The skin around his lips seemed to strain against the smile. “Harry Potter came to seek death instead of waiting.”
His wand was still in his pocket (luckily he had forgotten to take it out when walking down the hallway, something else Moody would be mad about) since Voldemort thought he didn’t have it. With every step they took the hand on his shoulder was becoming harder. He strained his hands, bound together behind his back, to see if he could reach his wand. He could. Should he whip out his wand and start attacking or wait a bit? But before he could decide they walked out of the building into a clearing in the woods.
The sky was filled with an array of different shades of blue and clouds tumbling together. It smelled like rain and moss. Standing on the wet grass were Death Eaters, all who straightened up once they caught sight of Voldemort dragging Harry along.
“Who helped him escape?” Voldemort roared, thrusting Harry onto the ground. He felt a tickling in his nose and tasted the blood dribbling into his mouth but he didn‘t speak. He had to think of a way out of this situation. A way to turn the table. Only he was severely outnumbered.
“Master,” a familiar voice spoke from behind them. Voldemort whipped him up and around again, fire burning in his eyes but Harry was busy trying to catch the eye of Draco, standing next to his father.
“Tell him, Draco,” Lucius said crisply, curling his hand on the back of Draco’s head, the other hand pulling at his tie.
Draco raised his eyes to look into Harry’s. In the small glance Harry saw fear and his face registered shock; Draco had got caught.
“Come on!” Lucius tightened his hold on Draco’s neck.
“I…I let him out.” Draco kept his head up but determinedly stared at the ground. Harry noticed his cheek was cut and looked at Lucius’ hands. Fury filled him at the sight of blood soaked through Lucius’ glove on Draco’s neck, leaving a small spot there.
There was a rustling sound and everyone turned to see a faded blue thing fly off into the distance.
“Was that a patronus?” Voldemort asked. None of the Death Eaters seemed to know the answer. Snape, flaring Harry’s anger up further, shrugged apologetically.
Turning to Draco, Voldemort’s mouth went stiff but by the way he slung his arm around Harry’s neck, hand raking against his bare stomach, he was amused. “And why?” he rested his head against Harry’s, who held back a grimace, “would you want to help our Potter?
“Because I can.” He raised his eyes, stared directly into Voldemort’s face, and spit at his feet.
“You brat! See,” he retracted from Harry to speak to the Death Eaters gathered behind them, “this is why I should never give second chances. I should have killed him after his first failure.” Many of the Death Eaters nodded their assent.
“Fine, then, Mr. Malfoy. Apparently you want to be with Potter so let’s see how long you two will last.” He shoved Harry forward. He stumbled over a rock but was able to straighten before losing his balance completely. But then Draco crashed into him and Harry did fall. The chuckles of the Death Eaters swam in his ears as Draco helped him up.
“We’ll fight to the death. Only, Potter, you are without a wand are you not?” Voldemort leered. Draco slipped his wand out and unbound Harry, receiving a thankful caress on his back. “I guess you’ll have to put your life in the hands of a Death Eater.” His eyes, full of mirth, slid to Draco.
“Well, then it’s a good thing I trust Draco.” He dropped his head against Draco and kissed his hair. Everyone’s eyes widened.
“That’s…disgusting. But interesting. Who knew our Potter would be a little rebel.” Voldemort tsked. “Going for one of your enemy’s henchmen. How…unoriginal.”
“I wouldn’t be your henchman if you offered me eternal life,” Draco spat, pointing his wand at Voldemort, who crackled.
“Draco,” Harry whispered, “Draco, you go run. I’ll try to hold them off.”
Draco froze, slowly removing his gaze from Voldemort to Harry. “I’m not leaving you. I didn’t enjoy it the last time.”
Harry wasn’t sure if he was speaking of when he left with Snape last spring or when he left after releasing him, but it didn’t matter.
“You’re not even going to toss a curse, Mr. Malfoy? Or are you saying your goodbyes?” But Harry tuned him out because in the distance a group of people were emerging from the dark. Snape followed Harry’s gaze and quirked his eyebrow at him. Harry sneered but then a flash of pink caught his sight. Tonks. It was the Order coming over.
“No, I-” Draco started, but Harry jabbed him in the arm till he saw the Order coming to help.
Harry drew his wand out and Draco closer. “I love you,” he whispered into his ear.
Draco clutched his wand tighter and folded against Harry. “I want to go home with you, then.”
Rating: PG
Length: 2678 oneshot
Genre: Romance/General
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Forcing through the heavy muffle over his mind, he tried to recall where he was. Wherever he was it was pitch black.
Note: Written for hump_day101 challenge 'relinguish control' (fluff). Also based on this picture by Eneada.
Harry’s head felt like a herd of drunken hippogriffs had trundled through it, bumping and falling against the border, maybe even kicking him on his side and shoulder a bit because they hurt too. He fingered a scratch on his stomach, realizing his shirt was torn and dangling around his waist. Forcing through the heavy muffle over his mind, he tried to recall where he was. Wherever he was, it was pitch black.
He ran a hand through his hair then stopped because it caused uncomfortable throbbing to pulsate behind his temple. Slowly, his memory returned to him. He remembered being with Ron and Hermione. They had followed a stray Death Eater to the Malfoy Manor, where apparently Voldemort was taking residence.
The three of them had found Nagini, the last horcrux beside Voldemort himself, and attacked her. Did they kill her? She put of one hell of a fight if Harry’s aching shoulder and side said anything. Only…
When had he got hit on the head? He remembered Ron almost getting bit by Nagini, Hermione expelliarmusing him out of Nagini’s reach, and him throwing the killing curse at the snake. Then…then blackness. Blackness similar to the one he was now positioned in though by the way his head throbbed he must have gotten knocked out and positioned in this place. Were Ron and Hermione okay?
Ever so slowly a door creaked open, stopped, and then started again. Harry drew his leg up to his body; he was sitting on some type of furniture. A bed by the way the springs protested against his movement.
The silhouette of a man stood in the doorway. There was a faint light behind him, enough that Harry could make out shadows in the room but nothing else. The man pulled out something long and skinny, his wand no doubt, and whispered “Lumos.”
Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the light, insanely bright after the deep darkness. The person gasped, and Harry forced his eyes open. He had to be aware if he was going to be attacked.
Harry found himself staring into the troubled face of Draco Malfoy.
He didn’t know why but Harry had expected Draco to look different from their last meeting, only four months ago that seemed like a lifetime. But time had done nothing to the blond boy. He looked the exact same. Sharp pointed face, light blond hair falling over his eyebrows and licking his ears. Those ears that Harry used to lick, pushing the silky hair away so he could take them.
“Are you…?” Draco questioned but Harry wasn’t sure what he was asking, and Draco didn’t seem to know either. He took a few tentative steps towards Harry, paused, then all but ran the rest of the way, stopping just shy of running into him.
Harry reached his hand through the thick air towards Draco. He trailed his finger over the back of his hand. Draco dropped his wand onto the bed with a soft puff emanating from his breath. The same puff he gave that night ten months ago at the Slytherin-Gryffindor get-together Dumbledore had fashioned in hopes of interhouse unity.
The puff he’d made when Harry, under Seamus’ dare, hesitantly touched his face before coving his lips with his own. The puff that had started it all because it was what made Harry come back again, in secret. Without a dare on him.
“Where am I?” Harry asked because it was easer to ask something relevant like that than “Do you still want to touch me?” which Harry found he desperately needed to know even though he’d thought about Draco only a few times since Draco had fled with Snape after the death of Dumbledore. The very Dumbledore who started their relationship, though that’s not what Harry had called it.
Was it a relationship? Because they didn’t talk at first. It was all about touch. Then the first thing they talked about wasn’t really talking but arguing because Harry wanted to know what Draco was getting up to, and Draco kept saying it wasn’t his business. Their meetings seized to exist for three weeks, when Draco sought him out and said to meet him in the room of requirement at ten.
They never talked about what Draco was up to after that though it always hung between them, suffocating them. Or at least that was how Harry had felt, like he was being suffocated every time he was with Draco. Only, it was a nice suffocation. A pleasant one. One he kept going back to.
“Woods behind my house,” Draco answered after a lengthy pause, as if he had to collect his thoughts before answering. “Death Eater area. They captured you. Vol - He’s going to kill you,” his voice rose a few octaves on the last two words.
“Oh,” Harry simply said because it was only an amount of time before he would get captured, and Draco was chewing on his lip.
“I…you…” Draco trailed off, one of the few times Harry had seen him blunder. But then a body was on top of him, lips crashing onto his and hands tangling in his hair. It took a moment for him to realize that Draco was kissing him and about five minutes of participation for Harry to realize that he had missed Draco.
Fingers trailed over his stomach, lower, lower, and Harry arced against him, moaning in pleasure. It’d been way too long.
“Oh, Gods,” Draco breathed, grinding into Harry and then his ear was being sucked. He started murmuring nonsense. Harry had forgotten how sensitive Draco’s ears were, the way he withered against him. Harry skittered his fingers lightly over Draco, wishing the clothes were gone, and entwined their fingers together.
He connected their lips again. This kiss was different then the ones they just shared. It reminded Harry of their first kiss despite the fact that the only thing the two kisses shared was that it was needed. Their first kiss was needed because of a dare and this kiss was needed simply because they needed it. Harry found the answer to his previous unasked question and Draco squeezed his hand before pulling away.
Panting, Draco pressed Harry’s wand into his hands and said, “You’ve got to escape.”
“How’d you get my wand?” He hadn’t even realized it was missing. Moody would be angry that his teaching did nothing.
“Stole it along with the key to get into here. Now, go,” he commanded.
Harry gaped at him. He stole to get to him. Harry reached across the air towards him - air that seemed much lighter now - but Draco flinched away from him. “What? Well, where’s Voldemort at? Was Nagini killed? I’ve got to kill him.”
Draco glared at him, standing from the bed. “Yes, the snake is dead. And no, you will escape. I didn’t go through the trouble of getting to you for you only to go and get yourself killed! You have no help, anyway,” he added.
“So you’re still on Voldemort’s side!” Harry accused, standing up too. He wouldn’t want Draco to fight but…
“I never said that,” he answered coolly. He glanced at the open door. “And keep your voice down.”
Harry huffed and diverted his eyes by staring at his wand, fingers running up and down the length.
“Promise me you won’t go after him,” Draco pleaded, frantic, and Harry’s head shot up at the tone. His eyes softened but his voice was decisive.
“I can’t do that, Draco. I have to go after him.” This time Draco let him grab his hand and stroke it. He leaned into the touch and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, which objected against the weight, but Harry ignored it to instead plant kisses in Draco’s hair.
“But I don’t want you to,” he whined.
Harry pulled away. “It doesn’t matter what you want.” He said it harsher than he meant to and tried stroking Draco’s face but was batted away.
Draco’s face turned red slightly. “Well, I’m letting you out so you’ll do what I say! And you’re not - not - going after him!”
“Draco…”
“No! Just give up, Harry. Come back when you have more support -”
“Voldemort will have moved on by then, knowing I went to get help.”
“I don’t care! Give up! Abandon! Let go! I don’t care just don’t go after him without help.” His voice dwindled to a hoarse whisper and he turned around quickly. Harry knew from past experiences that it meant he was getting emotional and wished to not display it.
“I’m not going to ‘relinquish control,’” Harry said, mocking the words he knew Draco was thinking but avoiding because they were the words some Death Eaters used at an attack a few weeks ago, speaking about the death of Kingsley Shacklebolt. How Harry was sure Draco knew, he didn’t know but could tell he was right by Draco’s reaction.
Draco flushed. “I never said…I….er!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! Go and get yourself killed for all I care.” He huffed and rushed to the door, and then paused. “Granger and Weasley are in the last room to the right. At least get them to help.”
Harry stared him in the eye. “Okay.” He passed Draco, their sleeves brushing together. Draco’s scent was sweet, welcome in the musty building they were standing in. “Do you - er - want to come with?”
Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Fight?”
“Er - no. After. Come home with us.” Harry smiled hesitantly.
“Home?” Draco scoffed and walked down the hallway, away from him. His footsteps sounded deafening in the silence.
“They’ll think you’re a Death Eater too,” Harry called softly after him. He knew Draco was one but hoped he wasn’t at heart.
“Would you let them think that?” He looked him in the eye as best he could from four doors down.
“If they thought that, would it be true?”
Draco smirked and walked around the corner. “I thought I had decided back in that room.”
Harry heard but barely. Desperately he rushed out, “When you kissed me or said you wouldn’t help?”
But there was no answer.
Harry trailed his hand along the damp stone wall as he walked the opposite way as Draco. He couldn’t remember if he was supposed to go left or right but didn’t want to follow Draco in case he appeared to be running to him for an answer. He didn’t want to appear needy.
“Pst! Ron! Hermione!” Harry whispered loudly against the last door in the hallway. He hoped there wasn’t a silencing charm on the door. And how was he supposed to get in anyway? His hand closed on the door and it turned easily. A hand griped his sore shoulder, nails digging through his shirt into his flesh.
He turned to stare in the face of Voldemort, smiling evilly.
“What a delight,” Voldemort crackled. The skin around his lips seemed to strain against the smile. “Harry Potter came to seek death instead of waiting.”
His wand was still in his pocket (luckily he had forgotten to take it out when walking down the hallway, something else Moody would be mad about) since Voldemort thought he didn’t have it. With every step they took the hand on his shoulder was becoming harder. He strained his hands, bound together behind his back, to see if he could reach his wand. He could. Should he whip out his wand and start attacking or wait a bit? But before he could decide they walked out of the building into a clearing in the woods.
The sky was filled with an array of different shades of blue and clouds tumbling together. It smelled like rain and moss. Standing on the wet grass were Death Eaters, all who straightened up once they caught sight of Voldemort dragging Harry along.
“Who helped him escape?” Voldemort roared, thrusting Harry onto the ground. He felt a tickling in his nose and tasted the blood dribbling into his mouth but he didn‘t speak. He had to think of a way out of this situation. A way to turn the table. Only he was severely outnumbered.
“Master,” a familiar voice spoke from behind them. Voldemort whipped him up and around again, fire burning in his eyes but Harry was busy trying to catch the eye of Draco, standing next to his father.
“Tell him, Draco,” Lucius said crisply, curling his hand on the back of Draco’s head, the other hand pulling at his tie.
Draco raised his eyes to look into Harry’s. In the small glance Harry saw fear and his face registered shock; Draco had got caught.
“Come on!” Lucius tightened his hold on Draco’s neck.
“I…I let him out.” Draco kept his head up but determinedly stared at the ground. Harry noticed his cheek was cut and looked at Lucius’ hands. Fury filled him at the sight of blood soaked through Lucius’ glove on Draco’s neck, leaving a small spot there.
There was a rustling sound and everyone turned to see a faded blue thing fly off into the distance.
“Was that a patronus?” Voldemort asked. None of the Death Eaters seemed to know the answer. Snape, flaring Harry’s anger up further, shrugged apologetically.
Turning to Draco, Voldemort’s mouth went stiff but by the way he slung his arm around Harry’s neck, hand raking against his bare stomach, he was amused. “And why?” he rested his head against Harry’s, who held back a grimace, “would you want to help our Potter?
“Because I can.” He raised his eyes, stared directly into Voldemort’s face, and spit at his feet.
“You brat! See,” he retracted from Harry to speak to the Death Eaters gathered behind them, “this is why I should never give second chances. I should have killed him after his first failure.” Many of the Death Eaters nodded their assent.
“Fine, then, Mr. Malfoy. Apparently you want to be with Potter so let’s see how long you two will last.” He shoved Harry forward. He stumbled over a rock but was able to straighten before losing his balance completely. But then Draco crashed into him and Harry did fall. The chuckles of the Death Eaters swam in his ears as Draco helped him up.
“We’ll fight to the death. Only, Potter, you are without a wand are you not?” Voldemort leered. Draco slipped his wand out and unbound Harry, receiving a thankful caress on his back. “I guess you’ll have to put your life in the hands of a Death Eater.” His eyes, full of mirth, slid to Draco.
“Well, then it’s a good thing I trust Draco.” He dropped his head against Draco and kissed his hair. Everyone’s eyes widened.
“That’s…disgusting. But interesting. Who knew our Potter would be a little rebel.” Voldemort tsked. “Going for one of your enemy’s henchmen. How…unoriginal.”
“I wouldn’t be your henchman if you offered me eternal life,” Draco spat, pointing his wand at Voldemort, who crackled.
“Draco,” Harry whispered, “Draco, you go run. I’ll try to hold them off.”
Draco froze, slowly removing his gaze from Voldemort to Harry. “I’m not leaving you. I didn’t enjoy it the last time.”
Harry wasn’t sure if he was speaking of when he left with Snape last spring or when he left after releasing him, but it didn’t matter.
“You’re not even going to toss a curse, Mr. Malfoy? Or are you saying your goodbyes?” But Harry tuned him out because in the distance a group of people were emerging from the dark. Snape followed Harry’s gaze and quirked his eyebrow at him. Harry sneered but then a flash of pink caught his sight. Tonks. It was the Order coming over.
“No, I-” Draco started, but Harry jabbed him in the arm till he saw the Order coming to help.
Harry drew his wand out and Draco closer. “I love you,” he whispered into his ear.
Draco clutched his wand tighter and folded against Harry. “I want to go home with you, then.”