- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- Astronomy Tower
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
- Stats:
-
Published: 07/23/2002Updated: 07/15/2003Words: 12,098Chapters: 5Hits: 2,566
Perfect Hell
ariesfire
- Story Summary:
- What is Professor McGonagall's secret? What does it have to do with Tom Riddle? Why are Harry and Draco drawn to each other? What is Dumbledore scared to reveal and why will the two boys die? A little fic about potions, ancient magic, betrayal and, of course Harry/Draco.
Chapter 05
- Chapter Summary:
- What will happen to Harry and Draco after the climatic ending to the last chapter?
- Posted:
- 07/15/2003
- Hits:
- 630
- Author's Note:
- Thankyou for everyone who waited so long for this chapter, I'm sorry it took so long! But it's a bit longer, so hopefully that'll make up for it.
Chapter 5: What's This Life For?
Hurray for a child
That makes it through
If there's any way
Because the answer lies in you
They're laid to rest
Before they know just what to do
Their souls are lost
Because they could never find
What's this life for
I see your soul, it's kind of gray
I see your heart, you look away
You see my wrist, I know your pain
I know your purpose on your plane
Don't say a last prayer
Because you could never find
What's this life for
But they ain't here anymore
Don't have to settle the score
Cause we all live
Under the reign of one king
- What's this Life For, Creed
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Draco sat in front of a low-burning fire in the Slytherin common room. The room was empty; the other Slytherins busy with homework or enjoying Hogsmeade. Draco just sat in his chair, staring through unseeing eyes at the dancing flames.
He was remembering the morning. His and Harry's soul-searing lovemaking was vivid in his mind, as was his awkward exit after they were spent. Draco knew Harry was hurt, but lying lovingly in Harry's arms had awakened long-buried hopes. But with those hopes came the expectation of disappointment. He knew he didn't deserve Harry. Harry was a hero, but more importantly than that, he was good. In everything he said or did the Light pretty much shone from him. Draco wasn't even good enough to be part of Voldemort's subservient army.
For now, Harry cared for him. There was no doubt of that; he wore his heart on his sleeve. But how long would he care? How long would it take for everything Draco had confided in him actually sunk in? How long before Harry realised that, despite his angelic appearance, Draco was covered in sin. He had never been innocent enough, never been good enough for Harry.
Draco knew Harry deserved someone better, like one of his do-gooder Gryffindor friends. He hated the thought of another person touching Harry, but he hated even more the thought of Harry never being happy. Draco was unworthy of such love. He wasn't even worthy of the death he so craved. He knew that lesson well; his father had repeated it continuously over the summer. Draco knew that he was never meant to have Harry.
Harry would never agree with him though. That annoying, yet somehow endearing Gryffindor stubbornness would stop Harry from understanding the truth; this was a mistake.
Since Harry would never do anything about it, he would have to. But how could he convince Harry? What would be able to get past the stubbornness and loyalty so deeply ingrained in Harry?
What would hurt him enough to let Draco go?
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Harry wasn't at Hogsmeade. In fact, he was alone on the Quidditch pitch, his broom dangling half-forgotten in one hand. He was indeed hurt by the way Draco had practically run from him that morning. He thought that Draco's reaction was because of what he had suffered at Voldemort's hands.
At least that's what Harry hoped.
It was that niggling worry that had brought him out here to work off his worries. Except now that he was here he realised it wasn't going to work. This wasn't where he wanted to be. What he wanted was to be with Draco and finding out what had caused his hurried departure that morning.
Harry raked his hands through his unruly hair. It could be that Draco had left as soon as he got what he had wanted from Harry. After all, neither of them had ever admitted having feelings for each other. Harry had only just realised how deep his feelings were. This was no one-night stand - this was soul deep love. Harry wanted Draco to be his forever.
But how did Draco feel? Draco usually kept his emotions contained under a thick layer of arrogance, giving the appearance of having none at all. But Harry had seen them, seen Draco's pain and anger. But Harry had never seen love in those icy grey eyes.
Draco was, no doubt, used to more exotic and experienced lovers. Harry's experience was limited to several brief relationships mainly consisting of shagging in a convenient broom closet. None of them had ever come close to what Draco made Harry feel.
For so long Harry had felt nothing. His emotions had been so deeply buried that not even he could find them. Then had come an angel with hair made from rays of sunlight and eyes that mirrored the intensity of a building storm. Now Harry felt so many things, too many things. By giving Draco his heart, Harry was more vulnerable than he had ever been
Harry had given Draco the ultimate weapon to his destruction. If Draco used it, Harry wasn't sure he could survive.
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Draco walked decisively towards the Quidditch Pitch, somehow sure that Harry would be there. Draco's robes swirled around him as he opened the heavy door and met the icy wind.
There was Harry, his ebony hair contrasting with the grey sky. As though sensing Draco's presence, Harry turned around. He smiled brilliantly and Draco was tempted to forget his plan and just take Harry in his arms. Determinedly, he hardened his heart.
"Potter."
Harry's smile faltered and he searched Draco's gaze for a clue to his sudden coldness.
"Draco, are you okay? You left so quickly this morning. I was worried."
"Damn him,"
Draco thought, "he just has to make this harder."Deliberately, Draco made his voice sarcastic. "You were worried about me Potter? I'm touched."
"Draco, " Harry gasped. He looked as though he'd been slapped in the face. "What's happened to you?"
"Nothing. Why are you so upset?" Draco eyes widened in fake realisation. " You expected me to be proclaiming my everlasting love." Draco laughed. "Gods Potter you're naïve. Did you honestly think I cared about you? I just wanted to see if I could fuck the Gryffindor Golden Boy."
Harry looked as though he was going to punch him or cry. Knowing Harry's tears would undo him, Draco kept on, each word hurting more than a whiplash.
"Not that you weren't good, you just need a bit more practice."
"That's all I was to you - a dare?" Harry asked, betrayed.
"Of course. Though, if it makes you feel better, I've never had to work so hard for a fuck, especially one that clumsy. Don't look so sad Potter, you're finally an official Slytherin conquest."
Draco barely finished speaking before he was knocked to the ground. Looking up, he saw Harry, fist raised. Draco smirked. A pissed-off Harry he could deal with. Draco jumped to his feet, adrenaline giving him fire.
Suddenly they heard a distant peal of laughter and a murmur of voices all trying to be heard at once.
Draco looked to Hogsmeade. There were only a couple of students a fair way off. He turned back to Harry prepared for a fight. But Harry had disappeared, leaving Draco alone with his breaking heart. Draco admonished himself for his pain at Harry's quick acceptance. It was for the greater good. To stop this before he fell for his enemy. Except Draco feared that it was already too late.
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In the dungeons Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape surrounded the unconscious Avery. Snape strode forward and emptied the clear contents of a small glass vial into the man's mouth. Minerva took a step forward, her eyes betraying her disgust of her former student.
"Ennervate."
Avery's eyes opened, but his gaze was unfocused as the Veritaserum began to flow through his veins. Minerva questioned him, apparently the only one with a clear idea of what was going on.
"Why did you come here?"
"To fight Dumbledore," he admitted. "I was to give him a Portkey that would take him to my lord."
"Why does Voldemort want Dumbledore?"
"He was going to use him as ransom to get a book. Then he was going to keep him. Torture him."
"Why not kill him?"
"I don't know."
"Why didn't you just owl a Portkey?"
"Voldemort wanted to create a distraction so that you wouldn't realise his disappearance so soon. Also, he wanted you to know it was his work."
"Why did he want the book?"
"I don't know."
"How did you get onto the school grounds?"
"A spy within Hogwarts created a hole in the barrier."
"Who is the spy?"
"I don't know."
"Why did you fight Harry and Draco?"
"They attacked me. I didn't think they'd be so good."
"What are Voldemort's other plans?"
"I don't know."
"Why not?"
"We only find out before we go."
"Stupefy."
The other staff looked at Minerva pensively.
"Why would Voldemort keep Albus alive? Killing him would be easier, and it would lower morale."
Minerva explained. "Uncertainty creates panic. That is one reason. If Albus was dead, it would be terrible, but we would face it. But with Albus missing there is paralysis. Will he reappear, or will he not? Nobody knows, and until they know nothing definite can be done. And, uncertainty breeds panic, which is what Voldemort is playing for. Also, he has the advantage of blackmail."
Snape turned to her, his curiousity piqued. "That's good and well, but what book does he want? It might tell us his plan."
Minerva's eyes widened innocently. "I have absolutely no idea."
Snape's only reply was a raised eyebrow.
"I believe your classes are about to start," Dumbledore said, interrupting. All the teachers filed out of the room, except Minerva.
Dumbledore looked at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"I presume you know what book Avery was talking about."
"Of course. It is the book in which we found the potion. Voldemort chose wisely, I wouldn't give the book to him for anyone else."
"Why does he want it?"
"The only way to overcome the potion is written in there. Voldemort knows it only from memory; to have it would give him a more definite idea of his weakness. He would kill anyone who could possibly be connected to it."
"You have the book safe?"
"Yes. Only I can read it."
Dumbledore sighed deeply. He looked world weary as he told Minerva, "I think it is time to tell the boys. Let them make a decision."
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Only when the door to the Prefects' bathroom was gently shut did Harry give in to the tears that were burning at his eyes. No sobs, just quiet tears that slipped down his face but didn't lessen the pain.
Through clouded eyes he watched as he found the small razor hidden in his pocket. His tears ceased as he stared in morbid fascination as the razor easily cut open his arm, criss-crossing his existing scars in a crazy design with no plan only a desperate wish to be free from this pain. To go back to the cold, emotionless person he was before and forget about Draco Malfoy.
He paused for half a second when the blade bit into his flesh, before continuing the line and beginning to feel the inner peace this always gave him. He cut across his arm again and again in calm, deliberate movements. Blood began to ooze out slowly and for a moment he watched as it glistened in the candlelight. But then he was cutting again, not counting, or even seeing the cuts, but going by his emotions.
Slowly Harry began to feel the icy exterior reemerge, stronger than before. He stopped, and looked at the contrast of his brilliant red blood against the ivory skin.
Harry began to feel the pain in his arm. For some reason, it always hurt more after he cut himself. But even that he enjoyed - it felt like fire and was twice as alluring. He bent forward and let his tongue trace a path along the bloody skin, enjoying the addictive taste of his own salty, coppery blood.
Resignedly he took one long look at the bloody spectacle before taking several Band-Aids from his pocket. Useful little Muggle inventions. Of course, he could heal the cuts, but that would leave no scar.
He was distracted by the tap tapping of a black owl against the windowpane. Quickly he let the bird in, barely untying the message before it flew off.
Mr Potter,
Professor Dumbledore and I need to speak to you at 3pm this afternoon in the Headmaster's office. The password is "candy cane".
Professor McGonagall
"Fuck!"
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Draco wandered through the rose gardens, attempting to purge himself of memories about a certain Gryffindor Seeker. He was so involved in the task that he didn't notice the great black owl following him until its talons dug into his shoulder.
"Ow!"
Draco stumbled and fell ungracefully onto his behind. So he was naturally not impressed at the bird that was calmly ruffling its feathers at the spectacle. Swearing profusely, Draco untied the note and the poor owl flew off.
Mr Malfoy,
Professor Dumbledore and I need to speak to you at 3pm this afternoon in the Headmaster's office. The password is "candy cane".
Professor McGonagall
"Great," Draco thought, "just what I need."
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Harry ran up the corridor, praying his watch was wrong. He didn't know that a simple game of chess with Ron would take so long. With the adrenaline in his veins and the speed at which he was running (a skill that hadn't diminished despite his time in the air) it is no wonder he didn't see the lean figure looking suspiciously at the gargoyles.
"Oof."
The other person got up. "Watch where you're going next time..." Draco trailed off as he released who had run into him.
"Malfoy."
Harry's voice was empty.
Draco stuttered "I -I was told to come here by McGonagall."
"Ditto."
They murmured the password and climbed quickly up the stairs, anxious to be out of each other's company. They entered the office cautiously and found Minerva and Dumbledore behind the desk. They sat down, and before they could talk Minerva began.
"I'm sure you're curious about why you're here."
The boys nodded. Minerva seemed to be directing this meeting.
"You see," she said, settling down comfortably, "it has to do with a story."
The boys listened, intrigued, and managed to forget their differences for a while.
"This story starts, as all good stories should, with a boy and a girl. They attended Hogwarts along time ago and they were the bitterest of enemies. A Slytherin and Gryffindor respectively. They were quite bright, and constantly competing in every subject. This continued until their fifth year. They were both Prefects. They gradually became friends and then fell in love. They used to explore the school at night, and one night they found a book, hidden deep within the foundations of the school. It was Salzaar Slytherin's Spells."
Draco gasped. "The real book? But wasn't it destroyed?"
Minerva smiled. "No. Godric Gryffindor tried to destroy it but Salzaar had charmed it too well. Since it couldn't be destroyed, he decided to hide it so that it could never be found."
"It should never have been found."
She seemed to shake herself out of her reverie. "However, the two students read it, and found the prize of a lifetime: immortality. It was a potion that would protect the drinker forever. So they brewed it and became immortal."
"How does that effect us?" Harry questioned.
"I think you might recognise the names from this story. The Slytherin was Tom Marvolo Riddle."
It was Harry's turn to gasp. "What idiot helped Voldemort become immortal?"
Draco's eyes widened as he looked to Minerva, demanding an answer.
"Me."
There was a deafening silence in the room. Draco's mind was reeling with new information, none of it he wanted to know.
"Why?" Draco asked, desperately trying to comprehend.
Minerva answered him with a bitter smile. "Love. Why else?"
Draco shook his head slightly. "But even then couldn't you see his power? The potential to destroy so much?"
"I knew he was powerful, but I didn't see the evil in him. He was till so young, so innocent. How was I supposed to know what he would become?"
"He was a Slytherin," Harry cut in harshly, making Draco wince.
Minerva glared at him, making him instantly regret his words. "He was also the boy who held me when I found out Grindelwald had killed my parents."
Dumbledore finally decided to speak up, lessening the emotional tension in the room. "Minerva, do you have the book?"
Minerva closed her eyes and traced an ancient symbol in the air. A thick, aging tome appeared before her on the desk. Harry and Draco watched curiously as Minerva produced a knife from her robe, and deliberately cut a slit down her palm. She clenched her fist and several drops of blood fell to the ancient leather cover of the book. It opened to a decoratively written, age-stained page.
"This is how you come into the picture."
"Heir of Water, Heir of Fire,
When the Elders age and tire,
You will be there Echo
And your pure blood will flow.
It will taint the Devil.
It will kill the Evil.
Up to heaven you shall go,
And he will burn down below."
Draco stared at Minerva disbelievingly, his eyes showing only pure terror.
"I don't understand it," Harry muttered.
Switching her gaze to Harry, Minerva explained. "Heir of Water, Heir of Fire. The heirs of two powerful enemies."
"Gryffindor and Slytherin."
"When the Elders age and tire. Tom and I are sixty-nine* this year."
"You will be there Echo" Harry repeated.
"You're both former enemies, now in love. In Slytherin and Gryffindor, and you are both heirs to the same enemies that we were related to."
"Tom and Slytherin," Harry cried.
"And I'm of Gryffindor blood." Minerva paused. "And your pure blood will flow is pretty self-explanatory. It will taint the Devil. It will kill the Evil. The 'Devil' and 'Evil' is, of course, Voldemort. Up to heaven you shall go." Minerva looked him in the eyes, "you will die and go to heaven, while he goes to hell."
Harry's icy veneer began to crumble. He'd always known he would die young, but to have it spelled out like that...
Harry stood up suddenly and looked down on Minerva. His eyes never wavered in their hatred.
"Draco and I are not in love. And even if we were," Harry informed her, "I'm sixteen. I don't want to die."
His voice held a desperate plea that tugged at her heartstrings. He was, in so many ways, still a child.
He didn't stay to watch her pain, storming dramatically out of the small office. With a gaze promising retribution, Draco followed Harry's lead, leaving the two old friends alone together.
"Well," Minerva said optimistically, "that went reasonably well."
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* I worked out Tom's age as the Chamber of Secrets was opened 50 years before the second book (which I think occurred in 1992) and Tom said he found the chamber in his fifth year, which meant he was born in 1927. If I got my calculations wrong somewhere (which is more than likely) I apologise and I will correct it if you leave a note in your review (hint hint)!
Also, I apologise for my bad rhyming, and for taking so long to get this chapter up. Thank you to everyone who reviews!!!!!!!!!!!