Fan Fiction ❯ Deus Ex Machina ❯ Angel of Death ( Chapter 2 )

Authors Note:

 

Mostly based on J.K.Rowling's stuff. I just get to play with it a little.

 

Pairings: Harry / Draco

 

Warning: torture, slash, bad language, oc

 

A very big “Thank you” to KD Sarge for reviewing it. It's great to hear that you were fascinated? intrigued?, even if it actually wasn't your cup of tea. As to your question, I believe that Draco is (or at least can be) a conceited, stuck-up bastard…but I also believe that he has a very passionate, caring heart. As for Ginny, I'm sorry, I really am. But sometimes, if you love someone, or if you're fighting for something worthwhile, you have to do things you'd rather not (e.g. watch a movie you hate but they love, sit down and work your ass off while learning for an exam…and on a sunny day no less) This is the same thing, only on a larger, fictional scale.

 

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Drake caught up with Neville in the mess-hall. Neville could see how frayed Drake was looking at the edges, but then, he had been friends with the elusive Slytherin since they were fourteen and he spotted things other people would miss. Gosh, was that only five years? It seemed so much longer.

 

Drake was slightly out of breath and Neville knew that the spy would have to return to Voldemort's side in just a few minutes, a duty Neville truly didn't envy him.

 

He knew why Drake had come to see him. Drake didn't even have to say anything when the question was only all to clear in his eyes.

 

“He's holding up all right. He's strong. He might kill you if he gets the chance, but he's hanging in there. “

 

The spy nodded, a tense kind of relief shadowing his eyes, and he left.

 

As Neville watched him leave, he thought back to the graduation ceremony at Hogwarts, over a year ago. Of course he had been one of the few people in on the great betrayal. But there had been others. Others who hadn't know and never could be told.

 

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- Hogwarts, over a year ago -

 

 

 

“There's just one more thing Id like to say.”

 

A smirk appeared on Draco's face, a smirk Harry hadn't witnessed for a very long time, and Harry's stomach did an awkward little somersault.

 

“Faithful of the Dark Lord, arise!”

 

Harry watched with dread as his lover's robes turned from school-black to Death-Eater grey. Still, the reflexes Remus had drilled into him took over, and without thinking, he went for his wand. He didn't get to use it though, because Tia tackled him, dragged him into a corner and shielded him with her body.

 

“Keep down dammit.” She barked. “otherwise they'll stun you and drag you with them to Voldemort as a graduation gift. There's too many of them, and in the confusion they have the advantage.”

Even as Harry struggled, she kept Harry down and only let go after she'd gotten an “all clear” signal from Remus.

As soon as he was free to move again, Harry took off through the halls and corridors. He had to find Draco, had to confront him. And he knew just where he'd find him. Their favourite meeting spot. The rose garden.

 

As he hurried through smoke and noxious fumes and past weeping students, thoughts tumbled in his head.

 

The first was denial. This couldn't be happening. There had to be an explanation. A joke, it had to be a joke. No, Drake wouldn't make such a cruel joke. Not his love. His love was sweet and caring, if sometimes cynical and aloof when things got bad. This kind of horror wasn't like him. It couldn't have been Drake who had just…No. There had to be some explanation. Polyjuice. Imperio. Some stranger had killed Snape. Burnt him to death, right in front of everybody, only a few minutes ago. The screams still echoed in Harry's ears. Drake wasn't a murderer, a traitor. Not Drake, who had lovingly kissed him awake this morning, and had had breakfast with him in bed. Not Drake, please not Drake………..

 

Despite his emotional uproar, Harry proceeded with caution. He slowly, silently opened the door to the garden. The garden was empty and seemed untouched by the chaos and confusion that had reigned in the great hall only minutes earlier. Harry entered. A few sparrows were chirping merrily on a stone bench, where somebody had left them bread-crumbs. Draco. A slight breeze ruffled through the branches of the cherry-tree. Harry crouched slightly, ready to spring into action, surveying his surroundings. All was quiet. And then the sparrows took off, their wings wildly beating the air. Before Harry could move, he was slammed into the ground, face first, one arm twisted behind his back. A heavy, warm weight settled on top of him.

 

Pinning Harry in place, Draco leaned forward. He deeply inhaled the scent of the brunette's hair, then let his mouth wander further down to the pink shell of Harry's ear. He licked it, once, twice and his lover began to struggle. He swiftly put an end to that by wrenching Harry's arm higher up his back. Harry let out a pained moan.

 

“…what for a sweet sound…let's hear it again, shall we?”

 

And Draco bit down on the ear's tender flesh, drawing blood. Another pain-filled moan.

 

“Drake? Drake, please….don't do this.”

 

“Ah, my sweet little whore, how I will miss you. Filling you with my flesh. Making you moan. I'd love to lap up your blood, every last drop, while you bleed to death, moaning.”

 

Another lick, another bite. Realization of what had happened, what was happening seeped in and tears were soon freely streaming down Harry's cheeks, if from pain or from despair, he couldn't tell.

 

“You lied to me! TRAITOR! Ah!” Another yank at his arm.

 

“And being the good little Gryffindor you are, you fell for it. There is no “us” Harry, and there never was a “Drake”. I got you, and I got you good.”

 

Draco nuzzled Harry's neck and his free hand started to roam along Harry's side. The unexpected softness and tenderness of the touch made Harry gasp.

 

“My boy-toy bitch. You have such a talented tongue. And such a tight little arse. A pity that my Lord will kill you. But `til then we still have some time, and I'm sure I will get the opportunity to play with you some more before you die….”

 

With one quick move, Draco broke Harry's arm, making him scream. He felt Draco taking his wand from his numbed fingers as he lay sobbing on the ground.

 

“This will make a nice present for my Lord.”

 

The leaves of the rose-bushes rustled and Draco was gone.

 

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A few days after Draco left Harry behind in their secret garden, the first rumors started.

 

“…all cloaked in white…didn't even bother to wear a mask….”

 

“…flinging Crucios left and right and SMILING….”

 

“…they say he's now Voldemort's executioner….his best man right after his father…”

 

“They were hunting muggles…killed them all…”

 

Harry couldn't bear it, and he left Hogwarts for Grimmauld place, where he spent his days staring at the walls, trying not to think of Draco.

 

The situation was dire. There now were at least 13 new Death-Eaters and one of them was Ginny. They had managed to kill 20 Muggle-born while leaving Hogwarts. Professor Snape was dead, and so was Arthur Weasley. Mr. Weasley hadn't been at the Graduation Ceremony due to a bad case of wizard-flu, but Ginny had returned to the Burrow right after revealing herself as a Death-Eater and she had killed him, right in front of Ron, who hadn't gotten there in time to stop her. Ron's state was alternating between catatonic and bursts of berserk rage, and he wouldn't speak to anyone.

 

There were only few bits of silver lining. Tia had returned Harry's wand to him and the Death-Eater she hand taken it from, 17 year old Timothy Waters, was now imprisoned at the Ministry and awaited sentencing.

 

“Seems like Malfoy passed it on to him and ordered him to take it to one of the Death-Eaters hide-outs. We had to pressure him a bit, but in the end, he revealed its location, and now the bad guys have one hiding place less.”

 

Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Neville and Hermione were alive and unharmed.

 

His official Auror training would begin next month. He had planned to prepare himself for the coming battles, had planned to get ready. But right now he couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think straight.

 

The turning point came the day he finally managed to sit down to open a book. It was “Defense against the Dark Arts” and as he opened it, a note that had been tucked between the pages slipped out. He picked it up and unfolded it, hands trembling.

 

“Tonight, top of the astronomy tower. Same time as usual. Love you forever and always. D.”

 

It was Hermione who found him, hours later, his body still wracked by violent sobs, the note crumpled in his hand. She tucked him onto a couch, together with lots of cushions and blankets and then sat with him for hours, talking. It helped.

 

By the time Harry started his training as an Auror, anguish had been replaced with determination and anger, and love had become intermingled with hate.