It was a dark, quiet night; the street lamps had all been extinguished, no lights shone from within houses, even the stars seemed to have dimmed. Draco Malfoy listened for some sort of noise, even a mouse scurrying down the street, but he heard absolutely nothing. That, coupled with the fact that he was already nervous about the task ahead of him, made him feel jumpy, and a little queasy, as if something was going to go wrong. It always did.
“Draco.” The slippery voice whispering in his ear made him shiver. He looked up into the coal black eyes of Severus Snape, the one who had, not two months earlier, murdered Albus Dumbledore – something he, Draco, was unable to do. “You are nervous.”
Draco sneered, “I think I know how I’m feeling, Snape. If we were doing something I would be perfectly fine.”
“Ah…well, we will move in just as soon as Rookwo - ”
A thunderous pop that sounded almost like a wand backfiring came from behind them, and both Death Eaters spun around, with their wands pointed at the intruder. A man wearing a silver mask and black cloak leered at them. “Lower your bloody wands.”
Draco saw Snape snarl beside him, but he none-the-less lowered his wand. “You’re late.” He snapped.
“I was held up at the Ministry. Scrimgeour wouldn’t leave his office for two minutes…I could have killed him quite easily - ”
“That task is not set for you.”
“Of course, Snape, of course. I merely meant that I had the opportunity…”
Draco remained quite next to his former Potions Master. Rookwood didn’t even seem to notice he was there, which was how he liked it. He glanced behind him at the dingy looking house, his stomach starting to twist itself into knots again. This was an important mission; why he was on it, when he had failed his last one, he had no idea. Perhaps the Dark Lord wanted another reason to torture him…he shuddered at the thought.
“Ahh…Draco’s here too is he?” Rookwood chortled, finally noticing the blonde-haired wizard, “The Dark Lord is being generous with you, boy.”
“Enough,” Snape hissed through his mask. Rookwood quietened immediately, which Draco thought was humorous. If Rookwood was terrified enough of Snape to shut up when Snape told him too, that meant that in Rookwood’s mind, Snape must be just as horrible as the Dark Lord, but Draco thought that was absolutely ridiculous. He had known Snape for the majority of his life, and the only evidence that Snape was the Death Eater he said he was, was because of what he had down to the late Headmaster of Hogwarts. “Rookwood, did you get the package?”
Rookwood held up a piece of parchment, which Snape attempted to snatch out of the man’s hand, but he pulled away quickly. “This is for the eyes of the Dark Lord, Snape.” The man’s voice shook slightly when he spoke, but he looked determined.
“Fine.” Snape snapped, “It’s on your head if this mission fails.”
Rookwood swallowed hard, and for a moment, Draco thought he was going to hand the package over, but Snape started to walk away, gravel crackling underneath his shoes as he walked. Draco sped after him, even more nervous now that Rookwood was there. He just wanted to get the whole thing over with.
Snape looked up at house with moth-eaten curtains, and shingles falling off of the roof. Its disrepair made Draco wonder if it really was still the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, but Snape looked determined. “Prof – er…Snape…do you really think…?”
“Yes, I do. Be quiet, or they will hear us.”
Draco closed his mouth, glaring at the back of Snape’s hood. He didn’t appreciate being cut off, especially by Snape, whom he couldn’t help but loathe because he had taken away Draco’s possible safe-haven in Dumbledore.
They walked passed the small, black wrought iron gate which was hanging off of its hinges, and up a stone walkway that had weeds growing through the small cracks. Snape stepped up onto the rotting wood step, and touched the black door gently. He seemed to be staring at the knocker which was shaped like a serpent, but when it did nothing, he turned the handle.
The door swung open slowly, and he tensed, almost as if he was expecting something awful to happen. Nothing did. His sigh or relief was nearly inaudible, and Draco raised his eyebrows at him. What could Snape possible fear from these people?
“Alright,” he hissed, “Draco, you go to the second floor and work your way up. Leave no room unturned. Rookwood, you go down to the kitchen and basement.”
“Where are you going?” Rookwood dared ask.
“To the top floor.”
Draco noticed a strange gleam in his eye, and wondered what he was planning. Obviously something to his benefit, but Draco just hoped that it wouldn’t be to his downfall.
Together, Draco and Snape climbed the stairs. They climbed past the shrunken House Elf heads, and passed the numerous portraits of the Black family. Draco thought they all looked sour…even more so than his father’s family.
Once they reached the first landing, Draco turned off at the first room, which seemed to be dedicated to the Black family tree. Draco traced along the spidery gold lines until he found his own name, the only branch off of his mother’s name besides his fathers. He examined it for a few more minutes, before turning away from it and sweeping the rest of the room. The room was completely empty, except for the wall hanging, and he doubted anything could be hidden underneath that.
The next two rooms were bedrooms, and he found nothing of importance. There seemed to be no personal belongings at all in these rooms, and he wondered if they weren’t guest rooms. He did find a peculiar mirror in one, however. It laughed at him as he walked passed, and he resisted the urge to blast it apart.
Only in the last room of the floor did he find something; a person. He was huddled under the blankets on the bed, and looked to be sleeping. He didn’t recognize him immediately, but under closer inspection, he recognized the man to be the one person the Dark Lord wanted more than anything : Harry Potter. Oh, how Draco would have loved to curse his nemesis into oblivion; torture him until he couldn’t comprehend here or there…and then have his way with him before giving him over to the Dark Lord.
Draco glanced back at the door. Would Snape hear him? Probably…but would he come into the room? Oh, Draco hoped not. He had wanted to do this to Potter for so long…
He swallowed hard and raised his wand, which was shaking slightly in his hand. Was it excitement, or trepidation at the punishment that was sure to come later? He wasn’t sure, but he did know one thing – he would forget all about it in a matter of minutes.
“Crucio.”
It only came out as a whisper, and when the spell hit Potter, he didn’t start writhing and shrieking as he had hoped, but rather let out a low moan and twitched once. His stunning green eyes opened instantly, and once he recognized Draco, his eyes narrowed and he scrambled for his wand, and then his glasses. Draco cursed himself; now it would be quite impossible to do anything to him, pleasurable or not. He was wide awake, and Draco doubted that Harry would allow him to touch him.
Harry did not curse him as expected, but rather stared at him with those startling green eyes, his wand trained on him. “What are you doing in my house?” his voice was hard and strained, as if he was trying very hard not to punch Draco.
Draco smirked, “Did you really think we’d leave this place alone, Potter? Who knows what treasure we might find?”
“So you’re Death Eater buddies are here too are they?” Harry’s eyes darted to the door as if expecting another Death Eater to leap through the door at any moment.
“Yeah…they’re somewhere around here. Hell…the may have even left already…”
Draco stared at Harry, looking for a reaction from him. Harry was searching Draco’s eyes, and Draco found he could not hold the gaze. He looked away quickly, instead focusing on the wand in his hand. “Are you going to hex me?”
Harry avoided the question, “Why are you with them, Malfoy?”
Draco was surprised at the softness in Potter’s voice, almost like they were friends. It was odd hearing that tone coming from Potter’s mouth. “Potter, if you’re looking to save me…forget it. The one man who could help me is dead, and it’s my fault.”
Harry’s expression changed immediately. Draco had expected him to look confused at his words, or even pleased, but he looked angry, very angry. “Yeah, it is!” he raised his wand higher, “You’ve taken away the one person who He feared, and now He’s all but taken control of the Ministry!”
Harry had leapt off of the bed, and had backed Draco against the wall, his wand pressed against his throat. Draco’s wand hung by his side, forgotten for the moment. “So kill me, Potter. Pay me back for all I’ve done.”
He was almost begging him to do it, and Harry knew it. Slowly, he lowered his wand, but the look in his eyes was still murderous. Draco knew that if he didn’t act now, he wouldn’t have another chance. He forced Harry against the wall, switching positions with him, and kissed him hard on the mouth. Harry’s hand pushed against his shoulders, trying to push him away, but Draco was taller and stronger than Harry, and very determined. Draco didn’t budge.
Finally, Harry slammed the heel of his palm into Draco’s throat. Draco fell onto the floor, gasping for breath and clutching at his throat, which felt like it had caved in. Harry stood above Draco, glaring at him in shock and horror. “What the – what the fuck, Malfoy?” Harry spluttered, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Draco thought he was trying to get the taste of him off of his lips.
Draco finally managed to catch his breath, but his neck still ached. He massaged it gently as he pushed himself up onto his elbow, hoping that he looked seductive. “I wasn’t trying to murder you earlier, Harry.” Draco’s eyes looked hopeful, “I knew you would never have me so long as you could think straight…”
Harry looked revolted at the thought. “You’re mad. You are absolutely barking mad.”
Draco stood up and stared into Harry’s eyes. “If I’m mad with anything, it’s lust.”
Harry took a step away from Draco almost fearfully. “Your Death Eater buddies don’t know about this side of you, I bet.”
Draco resisted the urge to laugh. “You’d be surprised.” His eyes clouded over with reminiscence, “You’d be shocked to learn how many of them I’ve convinced…even ones more powerful than I. Ones who think they don’t need anyone have found that they need me…”
As he spoke, Draco touched Harry. He ran his fingers down his muscled chest, and then toward the more sensitive area of his body. Harry jerked almost like he was going to pull away, but thought better of it.
“You…you…”
Draco was pleased to hear that he had made Harry totally incoherent. Even his eyes were starting to get that glazed over look that was so familiar to his “victims”. Even the Dark Lord had had a similar look in his perverted eyes.
“Yes, Harry…” Draco spoke close to his ear, his voice almost purring. “I’ve seen him how no other has…I know his weaknesses. I could tell you everything…”
Harry had closed his eyes, trying his very best to resist Draco’s insisting hands; his touching was no longer gentle caress, but an insistent stroke, and Draco could feel Harry’s hardness, despite his reluctance to the entire thing. His mouth was hanging open slightly, mouthing soundless words, whether encouragement or pleas for him to stop, Draco didn’t care.
Slowly, Draco stood, one of his arms holding Harry firmly to him, but he made no sign of trying to escape. His eyes had lost that fiery anger that Draco loved, and instead became a swirling conundrum of emotions that Draco couldn’t read. One moment he thought he saw confusion, the next, lust – but this emotion was quickly covered, only to be replaced by a look that Draco couldn’t read.
Draco stared at him for a moment longer before diving toward his lips and capturing them roughly with his own. To his great surprise, Harry didn’t jerk away, nor did he stand idle. He accepted Draco’s kiss, and even wrapped his arms around the other man, pulling them closer to one another. Draco pulled away, his lips now hovering just in front of Harry’s, his want for the other seeming to ebb away. In his fantasies, never had Harry wanted to have sex with him, and now that he did, Draco wasn’t sure he wanted him anymore. Harry seemed to want him more than ever, though, because he threw him against the nearby wardrobe, and kissed him fiercely, first the lips, then the ear, and then his neck. Draco grunted, his hands pulling against Harry’s sharply muscled back and shoulders. He had never been kissed like this by anyone before, and all his doubts about not wanting Harry were erased. He seized Harry’s arms and threw him against the wall next to the wardrobe, but before he could so much as think about kissing Harry again, the bedroom door flew open, and two blasts of light flew from the wands of the two Death Eaters in the door. Harry’s eyes widened, before thrusting Draco roughly aside, pivoting on the spot and disappearing with a loud pop.
Draco landed on the floor next to his wand, and looked around slowly to Rookwood and Snape. Snape was leering at him throw his mask. “What were you doing?”
“What did it look like I was doing? I was trying to knock the bastard unconscious!”
Snape flashed his wand in front of Draco as if to ask him why hadn’t used that. Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed his wand from the floor and held it up, “He knocked it out of my hand before I could hex him.”
Rookwood began to laugh behind Snape and both of them glanced in his direction, “You’re really in for it now, Draco.” He giggled, “Letting Harry Potter slip through your fingers.”
“Don’t put this on me! If you two oaf’s hadn’t burst in I would have had him!” In more ways than one…