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bottom_dracoTitle: Glory and Tarnish: Remains of the Past
Author: crazyparakiss
Pairing: Harry/Draco (Eventual)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,750
Summary:Harry swears he can hear a voice coolly whisper within his mind, A sensible man will remember that the eyes may be confused in two ways – by a change from light to darkness or from darkness to light; and he will recognize that the same thing happens to the soul.
Warning(s): Whores, drag, angst, emotional suffering, hero complexes, AU(but still magical despite how it appears) slash, and eventual sex (if there are more later I will add them)
Beta: The amazing Sue!
Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two:
1.
Harry wakes in a daze, his head swimming with the last few nights’ indulgences. Somewhere in the land beyond his consciousness’ grasp, a merry bell rings. His eyes feel sticky as they roll about in their sockets and glue themselves to his lids. Groaning he stumbles from bed, his footing unsteady as he staggers into the sitting room. The ringing is more persistent and he howls out, “Just a bloody minute, you annoying arse!” Not bothering with a dressing gown he goes to the front door and throws it open impatiently.
Millie stands there with an annoyed face, and behind her friends look at him as if he is a deranged homeless person. The mother; Mrs Dunbar, gives him a look that clearly states, “Tisk tisk.” He wants to groan or scream but instead smiles, a grimacing twist of his unshaven face, and says, “Thanks for bringing her back.”
“It was no trouble at all,” Mrs Dunbar says with a tone that conveys she truly means it and adds, “Millie is a joy to have and is welcome to our home anytime.” The way she touches Millie’s shoulder tells Harry that she is laying claim to his sister as one of her own. Basically, “Don’t fuck with my daughter Mr Potter or you will live to regret it,” just in a nicer, less direct way. A ripple of remembrance courses through him and he sees fierce brown eyes and wild grey and crimson hair, it hurts and he shuts it down.
“And she is more than welcome to visit anytime she’d like.” He comments with a more relaxed smile, “I am sorry to have shouted. I’ve a raging headache from yesterday’s patients.” As he extends his hand to shake hers he finishes off the awkward beginning with, “I’d invite you in for tea but I’m afraid I’m not in the right appearance to entertain guests. How about I make it up to you by taking your family out for dinner this evening?” His charming smile seems to win the elder woman, despite his ill kempt appearance, and she readily agrees.
“Yes Mr Potter, we’d enjoy that.” Her children nod in agreement, though both of them watch him with wary eyes. “Shall we meet you here around seven?”
Having her bite his line Harry reels her in with, “Nonsense, what sort of gentleman would I be if I had you drive yourself. I will meet you at yours and we’ll take my car.”
With a faint blush she shakes his hand and beckons the children to follow her down the bricked path toward their car. Millie hugs Scott and Shelly before letting them leave to follow their mother. Scott holds her a fraction longer than Shelly, causing a ripple of anger in Harry. When they are down the path and in Mrs Dunbar’s car, Harry breathes a sigh of relief and pulls Millie into a crushing hug. “I’ve missed you.”
She laughs, “You look like hell Harry, couldn’t keep it together for four days could ya?”
He shakes his head, “No, you’re my whole world. I depend on you to breathe.”
She pushes him away and says, “It shows, now go shower and shave.” Bouncing toward her room she calls, “And don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
Feeling too relieved to be annoyed at her remark, Harry whistles as he heads to the bath. His last few days wash down the drain with the grimy water as he drains the porcelain bowl. Forgetting: his long ago mastered art.
2.
Millie wears a simple white cotton dress and chooses a pair of grey trousers with a pale blue button up for Harry. He indulges her need to baby him, and is thankful that she enjoys feeling important. Part of him knows he is using her kindness and her innocence to hide from the things he’d rather not face, but as usual he files the knowledge away. Set upon a desk he will never bother to sit at again.
The restaurant is a pleasant enough place. Not terribly exquisite but not exactly a McDonald’s either. It has a very family friendly atmosphere and Mrs Dunbar appears enchanted with the homey environment. A young girl leads them to a large round table and Harry smiles his appreciation for the seclusion the wall to their immediate left gives.
“I hope the food here is to your liking, I couldn’t get us a reservation at a better restaurant on such short notice.”
Mrs Dunbar smiles and pats his hand. “This is wonderful, Mr Potter.”
“Please call me Harry.”
“Alright Harry, and you may call me Agatha.” Her smile warm and eyes twinkling before they disappear behind the black and red menu.
“Certainly Agatha.” He says as he too takes to looking over the menu.
Scott, Harry notices as he glances over the top of his menu, looks devilishly handsome in a white Oxford and his dark grey trousers. The bastard he thinks venomously, he chances a quick glance at Shelly who is looking rather annoyed in her purple floral print number and as he looks to Millie he can see why. Millie twirls a brown curl between her index and middle finger all the while sending a shy smile to Scott. Scott who is eating it up like candy and giving her a secret grin while whispering about something that makes her smile brighten. Harry wishes he hadn’t forgotten all the ways to torture a man with thought alone.
Dinner goes pleasantly despite Harry’s attempts to kill Scott with thought. Everything tastes wonderful and Agatha is simply enchanted by Harry and all of his interesting tales from work. He tries to remain slightly flirtatious and kind, a good host; something he learned from one of the best. However the guise is hard when he is pretending not to notice the way Scott lets his fingers linger on Millie’s face after he brushes a precious curl away from her forehead. It is painful when he has to ignore the way she blushes and bites her lip, a movement that doesn’t escape the young man’s hungry blue eyes.
By the time they finally drop the family off at theirs, Harry is about ready to explode. He nods his goodnight and is pleasant as the company exit the car, but he feels murderous as Millie exits with them so that she might say goodnight.
Harry watches them as they stand on the front step, Shelly having already followed her mother inside, Scott and Millie look at each other alone in the soft glow of the lamp light from down the street. He cups her cheek and she flutters her eyes at him, his face is full of wonder as he takes in all the small details of her face. Harry wishes he had forbidden make-up when he sees Scott stroke her powdered soft cheek with his long thumb. He whispers something Harry cannot hear and she glances back at the car a confused frown on her face before she faces Scott once more. A soft kiss to his cheek and she is bounding away in a very Millie fashion. Her eyes look a bit troubled when she re enters the car but she doesn’t bring it up and Harry doesn’t press. He is too busy wishing Scott would be swallowed up by the earth to make a real comment.
3.
The month bleeds steadily away with many visits from the twins and many nights spent Millie-less. Harry is annoyed and lonely, and cannot wait for September. He heard from Millie that the two attend a boarding school somewhere far away and will be leaving at the beginning of September.
God it cannot come quickly enough he thinks this particular night when he walks in to find Millie and Scott cooking alone in his kitchen. He doesn’t ask where Shelly is, because there have steadily been more occasions where she will skive off with her other friends to leave the blooming love birds alone. Harry hates to admit that is what Scott and Millie are but he has caught enough of their stolen kisses to know that they are more than just friends. He hates Scott more when he spies him chopping a zucchini and pulling Millie close for a soft kiss to the temple. She smiles and takes his finished work, adding a minced mix of garlic and onion. Harry stubbornly decides he will go out for dinner tonight and leave them to their private meal.
“Harry?” Millie calls out, and he turns where he stands at the mouth of his bedroom.
“Yeah Millie?”
She looks a little hurt by his casual acknowledgement but pretends otherwise as she says, “We are making dinner, and I was wondering if fish sounded good to you?”
“Whatever you want, I am going with a couple blokes from work for a pint.” He shrugs as casually as he can. She bites her lips nervously before she smiles and nods, returning to the kitchen with her tail between her legs like a hurt puppy. He ignores the pain he feels at her kicked expression. Twenty minutes later he is out of his work wear and through the door before Millie has the chance to say goodbye.
4.
Six or seven pints in his system Harry stumbles out to the gritty side of London he frequented all those months ago. It hasn’t changed much, a few more brothel girls than he remembered, and more graffiti lines the buildings as more trash crowds the streets. It is so familiar and so welcome that he melts at the sight of it and ploughs through a set of doors.
The scent of sex and tonic, cigarettes and lust, they cloy around him in the dim lighting and beckon him forward towards a stage that will always remain the same. A familiar tune, a stunning brothel boy nigh man, and a demonic glance of slate grey eyes illuminated by stage lights.
Home, he thinks, is where the heart is, and the heart is where the trousers fall. He would gladly let his fall here if the devil in silk would have him, after all these years he doubts that is possible anymore.
5.
He wishes darkness would have claimed him as he walks quietly into the flat, or perhaps just that the front door would creak as it opened. As it is silence is a curse and he walks past Millie’s slightly ajar door to find a shock.
They don’t see him, too absorbed in their own world to notice the blur at the door’s mouth. Her back is bare, the thin back of her bra parted and her spine shows bony through her pale golden skin. His darker hands rub up the thin spindles she calls arms and Harry watches as she shudders beneath Scott’s touch.
He is appalled, horrified, and worse yet jealous. Not of the coupling but of being the only person he knows of to walk the planet in utter desolation. He falls silently to the floor, eyes unseeing the way Millie straddles Scott’s narrow trouser clad hips. His eyes see yet don’t the way she tickles her long fingers along his collarbone and exposed nipples on a chest that still holds boyish qualities.
“What are you-,” Scott sounds startled, and Millie giggles.
“You’ll like it I promise.” Her voice a leering sound that shoots an arrow strait through Harry’s heart, breaking the fortress surrounding it and dooming its inhabitants.
The memories flood him then, as Scott nearly whines in a land he is no longer apart of, and as Millie moans, “God so good, do you like it?”
he whimpers and the sound of kissing comes from somewhere far away, all Harry can hear and feel in that instant is a moment he ran from long ago.
“Oh gods, Potter.” A masculine voice whines a near hiss against the shell of his right ear.
Harry whimpers in need, “Malfoy.” The slim fingers at his trouser zip divest him easily of his coverings as his lips attack a pale throat. It tastes of forbidden fruit and saccharine promises. His tongue laves a rapidly beating pulse and Malfoy moans above him, grabbing too roughly at Harry’s cock in response.
“Don’t do that Potter, I might come just from your tongue.” He chuckles breathlessly as Harry hisses in response to his words, “Yes, we wouldn’t want me to finish before I’ve had your cock up my arse now would we?”
To Harry’s virginal ears Malfoy sounds much too cool, much too skilled and experienced. It worries him, will he be any good, will he flag under the pressure? He doesn’t know the answers to the questions that run rampant in his mind but he doesn’t care when Malfoy brings their bare cocks together in his dry palm and rubs across the heads. Slick fluids mingle and Harry feels his eyes roll back in his head, if this is just foreplay sex will be phenomenal he thinks with a blissful smile.
“Are you close Harry?” Draco pants, the words breathy and more erotic that the actions being done between them. He barely registers the way Malfoy practically moans his name.
He nods and Malfoy sees it, even though Harry doesn’t know if he has, but he assumes so when something unbearably tight and wet starts to slide down his cock. His eyes shoot wide open and it is then that he realises their cocks are no longer rubbing together. Malfoy smirks down at him, but the effect isn’t its usual as his face is flushed as are his neck and chest. Harry thinks he is magnificently beautiful in that moment.
“Ha-Har-Harrrrie.” He hisses and moans and writhes atop Harry, and all he can do is watch transfixed as Malfoy flushes deeper. His grey eyes screwing shut as he rocks down upon Harry’s prick, drawing his own pleasure from his motions as he pleases the lover beneath him. It is electric in ways Harry has never known. The first time he waved his phoenix wand doesn’t come close to comparing, and that magical experience had been a rush. This is a different kind of magical, an intense binding of some kind that draws both of their life forces in and ruts until it finds a completion more relaxing than death.
His eyes hooding near the end of it he reclines his head on the back of the couch, watching Malfoy grind down onto him through thick black lashes. In a moment he speaks and he doesn’t quite know what he says only that Malfoy’s eyes snap open and that there is fear in them but even so his motions quicken and moments later he is convulsing. Hot seed splashing against the muscle of Harry’s stomach and a little catching higher up on his chest. A thrust or two more up and Harry follows. Somewhere in his mind he knows the words he’s spoken but he is too afraid to repeat them and so he settles for a whispered “Beautiful.”
Back in the real world, in present day, Scott whispers something similar only his is followed by words too painful to hear and so Harry stands silently. He walks away without being spotted and slips into his bedroom. Sinking to the ground he ignores the roll of liquor and greasy chips in his stomach as tears fall like rain. His hatred falls with his tears and coils along with the poisons in his stomach. All the while flashes of his past life and his current rage within his mind.
He envies Scott and Millie, they have found what he abandoned and as he scornfully laughs he thinks, The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves. If he could really look at himself he would take his own life, but that is why he laid the past away in the first place to forget to look himself in the eye without the guilt, self-loathing, and sorrow that plagued him constantly. Those things that are surfacing once more.
“Fuck.” He mutters as he bangs his head against his door, shutting out the shy giggle and deep voice he can barely make out through the wall.
TBC
Author: crazyparakiss
Pairing: Harry/Draco (Eventual)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,750
Summary:Harry swears he can hear a voice coolly whisper within his mind, A sensible man will remember that the eyes may be confused in two ways – by a change from light to darkness or from darkness to light; and he will recognize that the same thing happens to the soul.
Warning(s): Whores, drag, angst, emotional suffering, hero complexes, AU(but still magical despite how it appears) slash, and eventual sex (if there are more later I will add them)
Beta: The amazing Sue!
Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two:
1.
Harry wakes in a daze, his head swimming with the last few nights’ indulgences. Somewhere in the land beyond his consciousness’ grasp, a merry bell rings. His eyes feel sticky as they roll about in their sockets and glue themselves to his lids. Groaning he stumbles from bed, his footing unsteady as he staggers into the sitting room. The ringing is more persistent and he howls out, “Just a bloody minute, you annoying arse!” Not bothering with a dressing gown he goes to the front door and throws it open impatiently.
Millie stands there with an annoyed face, and behind her friends look at him as if he is a deranged homeless person. The mother; Mrs Dunbar, gives him a look that clearly states, “Tisk tisk.” He wants to groan or scream but instead smiles, a grimacing twist of his unshaven face, and says, “Thanks for bringing her back.”
“It was no trouble at all,” Mrs Dunbar says with a tone that conveys she truly means it and adds, “Millie is a joy to have and is welcome to our home anytime.” The way she touches Millie’s shoulder tells Harry that she is laying claim to his sister as one of her own. Basically, “Don’t fuck with my daughter Mr Potter or you will live to regret it,” just in a nicer, less direct way. A ripple of remembrance courses through him and he sees fierce brown eyes and wild grey and crimson hair, it hurts and he shuts it down.
“And she is more than welcome to visit anytime she’d like.” He comments with a more relaxed smile, “I am sorry to have shouted. I’ve a raging headache from yesterday’s patients.” As he extends his hand to shake hers he finishes off the awkward beginning with, “I’d invite you in for tea but I’m afraid I’m not in the right appearance to entertain guests. How about I make it up to you by taking your family out for dinner this evening?” His charming smile seems to win the elder woman, despite his ill kempt appearance, and she readily agrees.
“Yes Mr Potter, we’d enjoy that.” Her children nod in agreement, though both of them watch him with wary eyes. “Shall we meet you here around seven?”
Having her bite his line Harry reels her in with, “Nonsense, what sort of gentleman would I be if I had you drive yourself. I will meet you at yours and we’ll take my car.”
With a faint blush she shakes his hand and beckons the children to follow her down the bricked path toward their car. Millie hugs Scott and Shelly before letting them leave to follow their mother. Scott holds her a fraction longer than Shelly, causing a ripple of anger in Harry. When they are down the path and in Mrs Dunbar’s car, Harry breathes a sigh of relief and pulls Millie into a crushing hug. “I’ve missed you.”
She laughs, “You look like hell Harry, couldn’t keep it together for four days could ya?”
He shakes his head, “No, you’re my whole world. I depend on you to breathe.”
She pushes him away and says, “It shows, now go shower and shave.” Bouncing toward her room she calls, “And don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
Feeling too relieved to be annoyed at her remark, Harry whistles as he heads to the bath. His last few days wash down the drain with the grimy water as he drains the porcelain bowl. Forgetting: his long ago mastered art.
2.
Millie wears a simple white cotton dress and chooses a pair of grey trousers with a pale blue button up for Harry. He indulges her need to baby him, and is thankful that she enjoys feeling important. Part of him knows he is using her kindness and her innocence to hide from the things he’d rather not face, but as usual he files the knowledge away. Set upon a desk he will never bother to sit at again.
The restaurant is a pleasant enough place. Not terribly exquisite but not exactly a McDonald’s either. It has a very family friendly atmosphere and Mrs Dunbar appears enchanted with the homey environment. A young girl leads them to a large round table and Harry smiles his appreciation for the seclusion the wall to their immediate left gives.
“I hope the food here is to your liking, I couldn’t get us a reservation at a better restaurant on such short notice.”
Mrs Dunbar smiles and pats his hand. “This is wonderful, Mr Potter.”
“Please call me Harry.”
“Alright Harry, and you may call me Agatha.” Her smile warm and eyes twinkling before they disappear behind the black and red menu.
“Certainly Agatha.” He says as he too takes to looking over the menu.
Scott, Harry notices as he glances over the top of his menu, looks devilishly handsome in a white Oxford and his dark grey trousers. The bastard he thinks venomously, he chances a quick glance at Shelly who is looking rather annoyed in her purple floral print number and as he looks to Millie he can see why. Millie twirls a brown curl between her index and middle finger all the while sending a shy smile to Scott. Scott who is eating it up like candy and giving her a secret grin while whispering about something that makes her smile brighten. Harry wishes he hadn’t forgotten all the ways to torture a man with thought alone.
Dinner goes pleasantly despite Harry’s attempts to kill Scott with thought. Everything tastes wonderful and Agatha is simply enchanted by Harry and all of his interesting tales from work. He tries to remain slightly flirtatious and kind, a good host; something he learned from one of the best. However the guise is hard when he is pretending not to notice the way Scott lets his fingers linger on Millie’s face after he brushes a precious curl away from her forehead. It is painful when he has to ignore the way she blushes and bites her lip, a movement that doesn’t escape the young man’s hungry blue eyes.
By the time they finally drop the family off at theirs, Harry is about ready to explode. He nods his goodnight and is pleasant as the company exit the car, but he feels murderous as Millie exits with them so that she might say goodnight.
Harry watches them as they stand on the front step, Shelly having already followed her mother inside, Scott and Millie look at each other alone in the soft glow of the lamp light from down the street. He cups her cheek and she flutters her eyes at him, his face is full of wonder as he takes in all the small details of her face. Harry wishes he had forbidden make-up when he sees Scott stroke her powdered soft cheek with his long thumb. He whispers something Harry cannot hear and she glances back at the car a confused frown on her face before she faces Scott once more. A soft kiss to his cheek and she is bounding away in a very Millie fashion. Her eyes look a bit troubled when she re enters the car but she doesn’t bring it up and Harry doesn’t press. He is too busy wishing Scott would be swallowed up by the earth to make a real comment.
3.
The month bleeds steadily away with many visits from the twins and many nights spent Millie-less. Harry is annoyed and lonely, and cannot wait for September. He heard from Millie that the two attend a boarding school somewhere far away and will be leaving at the beginning of September.
God it cannot come quickly enough he thinks this particular night when he walks in to find Millie and Scott cooking alone in his kitchen. He doesn’t ask where Shelly is, because there have steadily been more occasions where she will skive off with her other friends to leave the blooming love birds alone. Harry hates to admit that is what Scott and Millie are but he has caught enough of their stolen kisses to know that they are more than just friends. He hates Scott more when he spies him chopping a zucchini and pulling Millie close for a soft kiss to the temple. She smiles and takes his finished work, adding a minced mix of garlic and onion. Harry stubbornly decides he will go out for dinner tonight and leave them to their private meal.
“Harry?” Millie calls out, and he turns where he stands at the mouth of his bedroom.
“Yeah Millie?”
She looks a little hurt by his casual acknowledgement but pretends otherwise as she says, “We are making dinner, and I was wondering if fish sounded good to you?”
“Whatever you want, I am going with a couple blokes from work for a pint.” He shrugs as casually as he can. She bites her lips nervously before she smiles and nods, returning to the kitchen with her tail between her legs like a hurt puppy. He ignores the pain he feels at her kicked expression. Twenty minutes later he is out of his work wear and through the door before Millie has the chance to say goodbye.
4.
Six or seven pints in his system Harry stumbles out to the gritty side of London he frequented all those months ago. It hasn’t changed much, a few more brothel girls than he remembered, and more graffiti lines the buildings as more trash crowds the streets. It is so familiar and so welcome that he melts at the sight of it and ploughs through a set of doors.
The scent of sex and tonic, cigarettes and lust, they cloy around him in the dim lighting and beckon him forward towards a stage that will always remain the same. A familiar tune, a stunning brothel boy nigh man, and a demonic glance of slate grey eyes illuminated by stage lights.
Home, he thinks, is where the heart is, and the heart is where the trousers fall. He would gladly let his fall here if the devil in silk would have him, after all these years he doubts that is possible anymore.
5.
He wishes darkness would have claimed him as he walks quietly into the flat, or perhaps just that the front door would creak as it opened. As it is silence is a curse and he walks past Millie’s slightly ajar door to find a shock.
They don’t see him, too absorbed in their own world to notice the blur at the door’s mouth. Her back is bare, the thin back of her bra parted and her spine shows bony through her pale golden skin. His darker hands rub up the thin spindles she calls arms and Harry watches as she shudders beneath Scott’s touch.
He is appalled, horrified, and worse yet jealous. Not of the coupling but of being the only person he knows of to walk the planet in utter desolation. He falls silently to the floor, eyes unseeing the way Millie straddles Scott’s narrow trouser clad hips. His eyes see yet don’t the way she tickles her long fingers along his collarbone and exposed nipples on a chest that still holds boyish qualities.
“What are you-,” Scott sounds startled, and Millie giggles.
“You’ll like it I promise.” Her voice a leering sound that shoots an arrow strait through Harry’s heart, breaking the fortress surrounding it and dooming its inhabitants.
The memories flood him then, as Scott nearly whines in a land he is no longer apart of, and as Millie moans, “God so good, do you like it?”
he whimpers and the sound of kissing comes from somewhere far away, all Harry can hear and feel in that instant is a moment he ran from long ago.
“Oh gods, Potter.” A masculine voice whines a near hiss against the shell of his right ear.
Harry whimpers in need, “Malfoy.” The slim fingers at his trouser zip divest him easily of his coverings as his lips attack a pale throat. It tastes of forbidden fruit and saccharine promises. His tongue laves a rapidly beating pulse and Malfoy moans above him, grabbing too roughly at Harry’s cock in response.
“Don’t do that Potter, I might come just from your tongue.” He chuckles breathlessly as Harry hisses in response to his words, “Yes, we wouldn’t want me to finish before I’ve had your cock up my arse now would we?”
To Harry’s virginal ears Malfoy sounds much too cool, much too skilled and experienced. It worries him, will he be any good, will he flag under the pressure? He doesn’t know the answers to the questions that run rampant in his mind but he doesn’t care when Malfoy brings their bare cocks together in his dry palm and rubs across the heads. Slick fluids mingle and Harry feels his eyes roll back in his head, if this is just foreplay sex will be phenomenal he thinks with a blissful smile.
“Are you close Harry?” Draco pants, the words breathy and more erotic that the actions being done between them. He barely registers the way Malfoy practically moans his name.
He nods and Malfoy sees it, even though Harry doesn’t know if he has, but he assumes so when something unbearably tight and wet starts to slide down his cock. His eyes shoot wide open and it is then that he realises their cocks are no longer rubbing together. Malfoy smirks down at him, but the effect isn’t its usual as his face is flushed as are his neck and chest. Harry thinks he is magnificently beautiful in that moment.
“Ha-Har-Harrrrie.” He hisses and moans and writhes atop Harry, and all he can do is watch transfixed as Malfoy flushes deeper. His grey eyes screwing shut as he rocks down upon Harry’s prick, drawing his own pleasure from his motions as he pleases the lover beneath him. It is electric in ways Harry has never known. The first time he waved his phoenix wand doesn’t come close to comparing, and that magical experience had been a rush. This is a different kind of magical, an intense binding of some kind that draws both of their life forces in and ruts until it finds a completion more relaxing than death.
His eyes hooding near the end of it he reclines his head on the back of the couch, watching Malfoy grind down onto him through thick black lashes. In a moment he speaks and he doesn’t quite know what he says only that Malfoy’s eyes snap open and that there is fear in them but even so his motions quicken and moments later he is convulsing. Hot seed splashing against the muscle of Harry’s stomach and a little catching higher up on his chest. A thrust or two more up and Harry follows. Somewhere in his mind he knows the words he’s spoken but he is too afraid to repeat them and so he settles for a whispered “Beautiful.”
Back in the real world, in present day, Scott whispers something similar only his is followed by words too painful to hear and so Harry stands silently. He walks away without being spotted and slips into his bedroom. Sinking to the ground he ignores the roll of liquor and greasy chips in his stomach as tears fall like rain. His hatred falls with his tears and coils along with the poisons in his stomach. All the while flashes of his past life and his current rage within his mind.
He envies Scott and Millie, they have found what he abandoned and as he scornfully laughs he thinks, The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves. If he could really look at himself he would take his own life, but that is why he laid the past away in the first place to forget to look himself in the eye without the guilt, self-loathing, and sorrow that plagued him constantly. Those things that are surfacing once more.
“Fuck.” He mutters as he bangs his head against his door, shutting out the shy giggle and deep voice he can barely make out through the wall.
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