JUST A REMINDER YOU ARE READING THE OLD VERSION, THIS IS NOT THE MOST UP TO DATE VERSION. THE MOST UP TO DATE VERSION IS EITHER THE RED COVER (MATURE) OR THE BLUE COVER (CLEAN VERSION).
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"Shit," Ron cursed under his breath. They were being dragged down a long cobblestone walkway, the stench of sweat from the snatchers holding them hostage disrupting the clear summer night.
With a swollen throat, Harry inhaled sharply, examining the big 'M' on the gates of Malfoy Manor, and immediately, Hermione grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "Do you think he's here," he whispered to her, just enough for her, and only her, to hear it.
"No. He's probably at Hogwarts," she murmured back to him, and Harry frowned with sad eyes, well, what was left of his eyes. The spell Hermione had used made his face numb and tingly.
"I wouldn't be able to handle it anyway."
"It's been a few more months-"
"Quiet," a snatcher barked, and the doors to enter the Manor had opened, leaving a stale, eerie coolness to chill them to the bone. They were guided into a room bigger than the Dursley's house, with small furniture and tables within it; however the most extravagant piece was the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
"Bring him out," he heard Bellatrix say, but his eyes, well, eye, was glued to the floor, and his heart beat so rapidly and hardly, he felt that every Death Eater in the room could hear it. Harry closed his eye, shielding himself from Lucius and Narcissa, and everyone else. He didn't want to be there of all places, and a gnawing at his heart reminded him of that.
He was expecting Voldemort, truly, in fact, he looked forward to it. He was just about ready to stop running, to face it and end everything whether by Voldemort's death or his own. Harry heard footsteps clatter down the stairs, and he opened his eyes to face someone much much worse than Voldemort. Their eyes connected.
At the sight of him, Harry gasped, and gasped loudly on accident, leaving the entire room to stare at him, and Bellatrix started laughing.
"Really, excellent job, Draco, making him look like a lost puppy that just found its owner," she sang with a smirk. "We didn't think you'd come so in handy with your stupid little plan." Draco froze, wishing he could do anything but that. He wanted to scream and yell and cry and just grab his heart so it wasn't ripping at it's stitches, but it was. He wanted to run over to Harry, because he bloody well knew it was Harry, and punch him and kiss him and kick him and steal him away from all the bad in the world.
How could he have gotten caught? How is he still even alive? Holy shit, he's alive!
It was his biggest fear and greatest dream to see Harry standing exactly where he was, and his blood tingled and nerves set fire at the sight of if.
"Is it him," Draco asked, his voice cracking as he kept a solid face.
"That's why you're here," Greyback taunted. "No one knows Potter better than you."
Ron struggled behind him, wanting to yell back at him, prove him wrong, but Greyback was completely, honestly right, much to Ron's ignorance, and Harry regretted not telling him considering this could be their dying day.
Draco just about stepped back, ready to make a break for it. They wanted identification. He'd done it so many times before. Idiot Death Eaters would think they had him, except they would bring in those with brown eyes and tan hair and pretend that the muggle or halfblood had used polyjuice. Those were the easy ones to get rid of. His mother helped him act more that of a Death Eater: how to talk and what to say, how to sneer properly, how to make those in question feel worthless and useless- it helped with interrogation.
He's learned how to make others feel pain with just the sheer thought of thinking it. He's broken noses and poisoned people and kicked them and knocked them out with a single blow to the head; he'd hexed people and tortured them and heard them scream and conditioned himself to crave it; he's used unforgivables (sparingly, but he still used them), and although he felt guilty about it, his culpability had become less and less as the days ticked on.
Draco had grown bitter. He'd grown constantly angry, and he thoroughly enjoyed building the walls that surrounded him- the way he fit in with everyone else, his defense to the evil that surrounded him.
Except the problem with walls: they can crumble.
"Do you know these two," Bellatrix hissed, but Harry didn't hear an answer. Yet, he did smell a smell that made his mind wander to a simpler, happier time.
"They don't matter," Draco said, his arm being pulled by Lucius closer to the three.
"Lock them up then, in the cellar," she ordered, and Greyback grabbed hold of Ron and Hermione, leaving Harry alone in front of his biggest fear. "Well, go on, Draco. Get a better look."
Instead of having to look Draco in the eye, Harry bowed his head and stared at his shoes, his heart hammering inside of him.
"Oh now now, lover boy, don't be shy," Bellatrix smirked, and Harry felt his eyes water. "Help him out, Draco."
Draco, with shaky hands, grabbed Harry's chin gently, and tried to push him to look at him, but Harry refused, using as much strength as he could. Don't be stubborn, Harry, he thought, although he wasn't even sure himself that it was reality in front of him. He realized those walls were cracking at the seams, and he grasped Harry more forcefully, his fingers squeezing both of his cheeks, and he dug his nails into the skin. Harry still refused.
"Need a hand?" Bellatrix went up behind Harry, and kicked the back of his knees so they would buckle, and she grabbed his hair so she could force his head up, leaving Harry to yelp in pain. "Is it him?"
There was no doubt in his mind that Harry was right in front of him, and Draco's entire body went numb at the thought of it.
"I-I can't be sure," he lied. He was ten thousand percent sure.
"Surely you can, Draco," Lucius sneered. "You were around him daily." Once a week, Draco corrected in his head. "You should know whether or not it's him.
"I-I...I don't think so..." He didn't break Harry's gaze, and his stomach set on fire. "What happened with his face?"
"Said 'e picked something up in the forest," a snatcher said.
"We can't call him with the wrong person," Bellatrix warned, "He'll kill us all. We have to be absolutely sure."
"Either it's him or not," Lucius growled back. "You had two years to be around him and you can't simply identify him-"
"Exactly. Two years. Whether or not if was fake, I was still around him for two years. I would know if it was him if I saw him, and this is not him," Draco rushed, still looking into Harry's eyes, Harry begging him silently.
"Well, obviously you can't tell with his face like this," Lucius scoffed. "Surely there's another way."
"It's not him," Draco said forcefully, still looking at Harry, and he tightened his eyelids slightly. What are you doing here?
"He could kiss him," Yaxley proposed, and everyone turned to face him, and Draco's heart stopped.
"What," Draco tried to keep from shouting, registering what was just suggesting.
"You can't be serious," Lucius scorned at him, a look of disgust on his face.
"What? Lucius, you know when you're kissing your wife and I know when I'm kissing mine. Surely after a two-year relationship, the boys would have made some form of muscle memory."
"Very well then," Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, and Harry grunted. Please don't make me, he wanted to beg. "If it is Potter, he'll probably be thrilled anyway. We'll be able to tell."
Don't you dare kiss me, Harry thought, Not now. Not in front of them. It's been so long, it can't be fake.
"I have to," Draco asked, holding a hard face. Harry's eyebrow twitched.
"For the good of the Dark Lord. Certainly you wouldn't mind considering you had to do it for two years. Take it as a goodbye kiss for the two 'star crossed lovers,'" she cackled, letting go of Harry as if he was fresh bait. "Go on, Draco."
Draco turned to him and met his gaze. What the hell is going on? It's a dream. It has to be a dream. No. A nightmare. Most definitely a nightmare, kissing his savior ex-boyfriend in front of his Death Eater... co-workers?
Either out of bravery or cowardice, Draco leaned forward, swallowing, and as he did so, his throat closed and eyes stung and palms sweated more than the night he asked Harry to marry him. As he pulled forward, Harry jerked back, not wanting to be anywhere close to that man. The more he saw him in his natural habitat, the more he saw him alongside his Death Eater friends, the more Harry wanted to punch him. Those extra months hadn't helped at all.
"Don't you dare," Harry snarled lowly.
Draco had to grab his cheeks and force him to stay put. I don't want to be here either, Harry. I don't want to kiss you. I don't want anything to do with you anymore. Just suck it up like a man and take it. Take it because it's you're damned life on the line, and rightfully I'm not condemned to it anymore. Me kissing you is for your benefit.
He filled the space between them and captured Harry's lips, high strung and barely moving. At first, Harry complied, but then he realized he had his arms free, so he shoved Draco away, because that was what he was supposed to do. He wasn't supposed to enjoy his touch or comply. That's what they were looking for, small touches and warmth.
"Ooo, Potter-Boy wants to play," Bellatrix teased. "Come on, don't be a wimp, Draco. Play with your pet." She whipped her wand out and cast a wordless spell, leaving Harry with binds around his wrists, struggling.
"Fuck you," Harry growled in his ear and Draco's heart seared, stomach turning over and over.
Draco kissed him again, this time, forcefully, his hand on the back of his head, and their lips moved together a little more, enough for Harry to seize his bottom lip, and bite it enough to draw blood. Draco yelped, and, deciding to remain in character, he slapped Harry on his cheek to send him barking on the floor.
Finally, a third time, Draco grabbed him by his shirt and kissed him, him mumbling, "Relax, it's me," softly, enough so the others couldn't hear it, and Harry responded as much as he would. After a few seconds, Draco backed away with a look of disappointment.
"No. It's not him."
Bellatrix frowned, "What?"
"It's not. I remember how he kissed. That's not it. Potter always did this thing with his tongue, and whomever this is, it's not Potter." Draco wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and for an effect, he spit on Harry as if he was nothing. He'd done it before to muggles brought in, but this time, if felt so much better because Harry, frankly, deserved it..
"You can't be serious. I thought we'd finally had him this time," a snatcher said, and Bellatrix turned to him to find the Sword of Gryffindor in his hands, and all hell broke loose.
"Get out," she shrieked, whipping people and hitting people, and Draco immediately stepped in front of Harry, and Narcissa in front of Draco. "Get the girl! Get the girl!"
"No!" Before Harry could run for Hermione and protect her, Draco pulled him to his feet and took him into a different room before he could be seen.
"Don't you dare say a word," Draco said, his voice shaking. He turned and locked the door behind him, although he knew it wouldn't be long before he had to get Harry to the cellar.
Harry finally got a good look at him. Draco eyes were sunken and cheekbones stuck out and face was so pale. His hair was a mess and cheeks were flushed and eyes were watery.
But the biggest thing he noticed was how out of place he looked. Sure, he pretended to be mean. It wasn't that his clothes were back or he had a pointed face.
It was his heart. His soul. It was all wrong. It wasn't the soul of a Death Eater, not the heart.
Draco had a heart.
A broken one. A bruised one. A destroyed one. A sore one. A worn one. But a working one.
And it was so fucking beautiful.
"If you want you and Granger and Weasley out alive, you don't dare say a word and you listen to me."
"D-"
"Don't you dare," his words were venom. Draco grabbed his chin and examined his cheek. A handprint was there. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and he whispered it again. His first wall fell when he accidentally stroked the hair behind Harry's ear. "I'm sorry, too, that I had to kiss you." He wiped his mouth a second time. "And spit on you." He examined his body to find the clump of saliva, and it landed on his chest. Draco grabbed the end of his sleeve and he wiped it off for him.
But then he took a step back and dissected his whole body. "Damn you've gotten fit," he said in an afterthought, but when he realized he said it out loud and immediately covered his mouth. "I'm sorry!"
Second wall.
"Draco-"
"No. Don't talk. You're supposed to be in a cellar right now, and I'm taking you down there, I just want you to... I don't know why I have you here, but I'm not letting you get hurt and she just... I'm sorry, okay! Fuck you! I hate it when you look at me like that!"
"I'm just looking at you!"
"No you're looking at me the same way you used to look at me- and ugh! Just shut up! I'm sorry I kissed you." Third wall down.
"Are you going to take this spell binding me so I can hug you?"
Draco stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as he glared at Harry for a few moments before he spoke. "No, I'm not."
"Why not? You have me here!"
"Because I know you and- well, I don't know you much anymore... well I mean..." he stuttered, his numb nerves setting on fire. Talking to him was worse than any torture he had to endure or put on anyone else. "Well... I kind of know you, how much could you change... shit you've changed a lot...you know what I mean... fuck it's been a year and, damn it, I'm over you! I might not look like it, but I am. Really! ...Fuck why are you so hard!" Involuntarily, Draco's eyes wandered up and down his body, and when he realized what he just said and what he was doing. "Fuck! I didn't mean it like that! I'm sorry!"
"I read your letters," Harry tried to interject, but he kept babbling like an idiot, and although it hurt Harry to see him standing where he was standing, it made his abused heart swoon. He thought he was the only one who wasn't over their relationship. Fuck, I'm not over this relationship...
Before Draco could get sentimental, he snapped. "The forced me to write those."
"Liar," Harry smirked. "Death Eater Malfoy wasn't ever that sappy. Draco... Draco was sappy."
"We're the same person."
"That's a joke," Harry laughed.
"I'm over you."
"I didn't ask if you were-"
"-it's been a full bloody year! You're not hot and you're not hard and you're ugly and stupid and how the hell did you get caught you bloody idiot!?" His cheeks were flushed and eyes were teary and he felt himself breaking by a single look from the man in front of him.
Well, there went the fourth wall.
"I-"
"You stupid, fucking idiot! Wait, you never wrote me back! I thought you were dead!"
"I'm not, yet."
"You're lazy and you broke my- yet!? What do you mean by 'yet?" Draco grabbed his shirt with his fist and held him ridiculously close to his face. "Damn it, you're not dying! You're going to fight! I'm not letting you get killed because you're too stupid to not get snatched. I'm finding a way out of here for you."
"Why?"
Draco couldn't stand it anymore. He undid Harry's restraints and Harry wrapped his arms around him, hugging him as tightly as he could. He smelled of sweat and looked like a monster, but it was still him, and it still felt warm and soft hugging him. Draco tried to stop himself from enjoying it. "You're an arsehole."
"Escape with me."
"Fuck off. That's a suicide mission."
"I'll protect you."
"You can't," Draco pushed him away. "It's not the same. We aren't the same. And anyway, it doesn't matter now! Don't you get it? Nothing matters now. Nothing will ever matter anymore because we're at war. Nothing will ever be certain. You broke my heart, I got over it, and it's done. That's about as teenage and mundane we will ever be. And our relationship isn't important to me at a time like this."
From the other room, they suddenly heard screaming, and not just any screaming, but bloody curdling, heart-stopping screaming. Harry flinched, however Draco remained firm with a frown.
"Doesn't that bother you," Harry sneered at his lack of reaction.
"It wouldn't if you heard it every day."
"Aren't you at Hogwarts?"
Draco just looked at him with sad eyes. "That's funny. You think Hogwarts is any better than this insane asylum. If you knew me now, you'd retract any idea of wanting to run away with me."
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as he heard more shrieking. He started to take off, yearning to run to her, but Draco lunged forward and grabbed him by his stomach. "Hermione!"
"No. You're going to the cellar and I'm going to think a way out of this!" Draco grabbed his hand and he pulled him down a separate shaft that lead to the dungeon. They were silent the whole way, but their grips were firm.
Once there, Draco quickly unlocked the door and shoved Harry inside, locking it swiftly but solemnly. Ron didn't pay any attention to him, for he was with Luna trying to calm down in the result of the murderous screams coming from upstairs.
As the last fragments of Harry's spell dwindled away, his face appeared as normal, and Draco found himself lost in his features through the bars of the cellar that separated them. "Damn it, you've gotten hot," he whispered it on accident.
Harry just leaned his cheek against the bar, falling in love with Draco's eyes, which still seemed watery. "Do you kiss all your prisoners," he asked quietly.
"I had to."
"Over me?"
"Just as much as you're over me," Draco said, and he put his hand over Harry's on the bar.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Come with me?"
"Absolutely not."
Harry swallowed and his eyes watered. "I'm sorry," he mouthed simply because he couldn't even say it.
"No. Just fight for me. Fight for what could have been us. Maybe in five or ten years when I get out of the arrangement, we can meet each other again if we haven't moved on, properly this time. No more lies. Just us in a forest away from all the bad in the world. Just fight for five years from now."
"I will. So it truly was your soul when you wrote those letters? No wonder you were stuttering like a house elf a minute ago, you must be terrified to see me-"
"Merlin!"
"What?"
"I know how I can get you out of here!"
"How?"
Draco just gave him one lingering look, and he sprinted up the stairs without another word.
Moments later, after he regrouped with Ron and came up with a story about what he was talking about with Draco, a crack sounded and a little elf was standing in the middle of the floor.
"Damn him," Harry thought to himself with a small smile.
It wasn't long before they were free and all hell broke loose.
There was fighting and pushing and shoving and battling and Harry found himself up against Draco with almost a smile on his face because he knew Draco would never hurt him unlike everyone else in the room. The casted hexes and dodged them and they loved it because it was each other, and at one point Harry almost caught himself laughing because, damn, Draco looked good when he was fighting for what he believed in.
But everything froze then Bellatrix had Hermione under a knife. "Drop you wands, drop them! Or she gets it." Everyone did as ordered, except for Harry. "Draco, collect them, quickly!"
In the hopes to brush his fingertips, to be set on fire from his touch again, Harry held his loosely. It was even better than he remembered as Draco lingered his fingers back once he had them on him.
A crash, however, startled them from their trance, and chaos, again, broke the room as the chandelier fell to the ground and Harry immediately ran for Draco, taking the wands from his hands. "Thank you," he said as Draco quickly gave them up, although trying to make it seem like he wasn't.
"Go," he whispered.
Harry gave a lingering look before nodding and letting go of him. And before Draco knew it, he was gone again.
But for once, Draco didn't feel as empty inside.