What Separates Us
headers and warnings

Chapter 18
In Which We See How Old Sins Do, In Fact, Come Back to Haunt the Sinner

Harry twisted around, trying to find the source of the terror that spiked through both their veins and rolled off Draco like cold fog. Harry's eyes widened, and he thought for one wild moment he was hallucinating. Lucius Malfoy could not possibly be suddenly in their room, because a Death Eater could not possibly have Apparated into Hogwarts. And yet, there he was, shadowy and oddly transparent, his usually composed face contorted in madness and rage. He seemed like he was trying to push a stream of vitriol through the silencing spell with sheer willpower, and a tingling over Harry's skin told him that it might actually work.

Harry dove for their wands, left carelessly on the nightstand. He barely registered it when their physical connection was broken, so intent was he on every emotional nuance, every clue that might tell him if he was about to be attacked. He tossed Draco's wand blindly towards the feeling of him, and waited for the moment that Draco released his silencing spell. The room filled with Lucius' voice, near-incoherent swearing like a wall of sound battering at their defences.

"Petrificus Totalus!" cried Harry, powering it with the built-up glow of magic and love and even the tingling press of what he now realized was Lucius' incomplete spell. Lucius didn't stand a chance, snapping into focus as his body went rigid.

"Silencio!" cast Draco again, this time on Lucius alone. His cursing went blissfully silent as he toppled slowly over.

Snape burst through the door, robes askew over dark green flannel pyjamas, wand at the ready. Harry suddenly became acutely aware that he was wearing nothing but the rather crumpled gold bow, and Draco was covered in a Rorschach blot of Harry's seed. "Accio pyjamas!" cried Harry rather desperately as he felt a trickle of Draco's come sliding down his thigh.

Every set of pyjamas they both owned came flying at them, out of drawer and hamper and even one pair of dusty trousers that had evidently gotten lost under the bed. "What on Earth...?" Snape's face was a mask of anger, lust and confusion, and he didn't even appear to have noticed Lucius yet.

Harry pointed mutely to the prone figure in the shadows at the foot of the bed, and turned around abruptly. He rid himself of the bow and slid into the first pair of pyjama bottoms he could grab while Draco did the same, mopping up the mess on his chest and abdomen with an extra shirt. Once they were both at least half-clothed, Harry turned back around to find Snape looking positively aghast. "I don't know how he got here, I think there's some kind of spell on Draco..."

Harry let the explanation die on his lips, unwilling or unable to explain to Snape just what, precisely, had led to the activation of that particular spell. "Well," said Draco peevishly, "Shouldn't you take him up to Dumbledore?"

Snape shook himself, expression sinking back into his usual angry sneer, and muttered, "Mobilicorpus."

Lucius floated upwards and righted himself, then proceeded to bob along as Snape backed out the door. "I suggest," he said with a twitch, "That the two of you dress a bit more respectably before you join me in Dumbledore's office. The password is 'mint humbugs'."

Harry blinked, then looked down at himself. Sweaty, streaked with chocolate and his own come and wearing silk pyjamas that were obviously Draco's, and just as obviously already stained with the efforts of a previous evening. He turned to Draco, eyes traveling up a body in a very similar state to meet familiar grey eyes. As soon as their gazes met, they both burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, and Harry crawled back up Draco's body to pepper his face with kisses in between bouts of giggling.

"I thought for sure Snape was gonna bump him into the doorframe," said Draco once they'd caught their breath.

"We sorted him out," said Harry. "He was completely gobsmacked!"

That set Draco off again, but Harry swallowed his laughter in a deep, hot kiss. "You don't have to be afraid of him anymore, Draco."

"Too right, did you see his face when you hit him with that curse?" Draco was grinning triumphantly now, and Harry traced gentle fingers through a stray bit of chocolate and over one of the scars. The magic prickled along both their skins, and he looked up into Draco's wide eyes.

"Wonder what the spell was supposed to do?" said Harry. "I mean, you'd have to be pretty intimate with someone to ever activate it, and I could feel its frustration when I didn't finish up."

"You... wait, you didn't finish?" Draco looked puzzled now. "Then why..."

Harry shrugged, sliding off the bed in a hail of pyjama parts. "Come on, let's have a quick shower and go find out."


Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the gargoyle flushed and slightly damp, but dressed respectably enough in jeans and jumpers, Harry in one of his red Weasley-knit woollens, Draco in green Slytherin-crested cashmere. They'd managed to have a fairly efficient shower, the adrenaline of the moment transmuted into a quick bout of frottage, then a hasty soap and rinse. "Mint humbugs," said Harry to the glaring statue, which stepped aside with a grumble about the odd hour.

They rode the spiralling steps upwards, their mutual tension notching up with each turn. When they stepped into Dumbledore's office, only the headmaster himself was in evidence, which tugged oddly at both of them. "Lucius has been taken somewhere very secure, never fear," said Dumbledore with his usual perceptiveness. "Have a seat, boys, would you like a spot of tea?"

They both shook their heads, but sat nonetheless, Harry scooting his chair over close enough to hold his lover's hand. "No? All right, then. I will not ask you to reveal any more to me than is absolutely necessary, but I am afraid this will be rather embarrassing for you."

"It's all right, Professor," said Draco softly, surprising Harry. "I'm sure Snape has told you how we... what we were..."

"Yes, well, he did say that Lucius appeared to have interrupted rather an intimate moment. What I do not understand is how he managed to appear inside of Hogwarts at all. None of the alarms that would detect someone attempting to Apparate through the wards have been activated, and only Professor Snape sensed the magic occurring within your rooms."

Harry blushed, and squeezed Draco's hand. "I... do you know what happened to Draco, before he came here?" asked Harry, feeling a slight tremor run through Draco's arm.

Dumbledore nodded once, curtly. "Well, the scars... I think they're some kind of spell, that if you trace over them all... But I didn't finish before we, er, finished..." Harry's bravery ran out, his cheeks as red and hot as he could ever remember them being.

"He didn't look properly solid before Harry petrified him, either," said Draco softly. His hands were shaking noticeably now, and Harry was glad they didn't have tea to spill. "We couldn't hear him because we'd put a silencing charm on the room."

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, lips pursed. "And those scars, are they precisely the same as the ones on the students that were sent back to us?"

Draco shook his head mutely. Harry forced himself to remember, saying, "No, his are more like runes. Theirs were like... caricatures of his, almost."

Dumbledore nodded, and looked troubled. "I will have to examine you, Draco, for which I deeply apologize. Could you please remove your outer clothing?"

Harry squeezed his hand, and sent over a bit of his own Gryffindor bravery to bolster Draco's rapidly declining mental state. "I... could you make it a bit, er, warmer?"

Dumbledore nodded, and went over to fiddle with the fireplace, kindly giving them his back. Harry stood with Draco, pulling him into a hug and adding a chaste kiss to the silent encouragement. He then helped Draco out of his sweater, bending down to untie the shoes and set them aside, taking the pants and folding them, leaving Draco in nothing but socks and a loose, faded blue pair of Harry's old boxers. One last kiss, and Harry sat, holding the folded clothing in his lap.

When Dumbledore turned back, his face had lost its gentle jollity and gone carefully blank, almost clinical. He walked over to Draco, then pulled out his wand and muttered, "Lumos," touching the glowing wand tip to one of the scars on Draco's shoulder. Blue fire flared outwards from that point, a fine tracery over all the marks that shone through the thin cotton of his boxers and even dimly through the thick woollen socks.

"You may keep your underthings," said Dumbledore with evident relief, "but the socks will have to go."

Draco smiled wanly and bent to remove them, handing them off to Harry without another word. He stepped forward so that Dumbledore could pace around him completely, lifting his foot and sliding the elastic lower on his hips when asked. "You may get dressed now," said the headmaster, pacing over to stare into the fire. The blue glow faded gently as Draco quickly replaced his pants and shirt, going out completely as he was tied his shoelaces.

"It appears," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, "That your father was attempting to turn you into an arcane and highly illegal Portkey, containing a variation on the Imperius curse and keyed to himself rather than any specific location. Between the rather fortunate placement of a few of your more recently acquired injuries, and Harry's ability to resist the spell, it appears to have pulled him towards you, rather than the other way around."

"Lucky for us," said Harry, talking around a lump of cold dread from Draco. "Not a good idea to arrive in the Dark Lord's presence naked, wandless and, er, vulnerable."

Draco coughed gently, shooting Harry a dirty look. Harry winked, and squeezed his hand again. "Quite," said Dumbledore.

"Er," said Harry, when it looked like they were about to be dismissed, "How can we deactivate the spell?"

"I shall have to think on it. For now, I suggest you refrain from the specific activity which precipitated this incident." Harry blushed, and a sidelong glance told him that Draco's cheeks were still a bright, feverish red. "Now, I think it's time the two of you got some sleep. Harry, I expect I will be calling upon you both very soon. Remember, you are stronger together than either of you apart."

<<  Chapter 17  |  Chapter 19  >>


Title: What Separates Us
Author:
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco, mentions of Lucius/Draco and Snape/Lupin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash, underage (17), mild BDSM, mentions of underage non-con incest,
rimming, wanking, somnophilia, violence, cliches
Summary: Harry does something phenomnally stupid in Potions class, and the consquences are farther-reaching than anyone suspects.
Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Signe most of all, for giving the Intoxication Challenge. Additionally, many, MANY heartfelt thanks to my intrepid betas, Kattiya, Kel, Gary and Ximeria, plus Carla for the Britishisms, and my wonderful audience who read chapter after chapter and put up with my whingeing when it wouldn't finish up.



All of the works contained herein are labours of love, unauthorized by those who hold the rights to such things, and no profit is made from them. No harm is meant, and hopefully no offense given.