Come Hither

Chapter 13

Possession

Maybe he was no bloody different from Voldemort.

Maybe he was just as twisted.

Maybe he was just as desperately enthralled with the merciless allure of Draco Bloody Malfoy.

It just could not be happening. Oh, Merlin, when he saw Draco come into the room, seeing him completely in absolute exposure, seeing him in the inherent purity in being truly naked, in the simple majesty of raw nature, and actually recognizing the male form as beautiful, something Harry had never thought of before. Form was designed to be primarily functional and mechanic, but let it never be said it wasn't a pleasant sight in which to indulge.

The female body was beautiful, yes, with all those soft lines and curves and full shapes. But on this side, the male body, too, had its own beauty - an incomparable, continuously reinvented brand of beauty that was surprisingly equally demanding of reverence as its female counterpart. While the beauty of a female was an all around, evenly distributed, constant striking scintillation, the male beauty was a centred scintillation that pulsed poignantly. Perhaps that could explain why it struck one short and sharp in a concentrated packet that titillatingly dispersed throughout one's body and then hit one right in the middle of one's chest and groin. Yes, it wasn't a breathtaking beauty per se - to another male, more specifically - but an equally robbing, captivating beauty, and its victimization of Harry was possibly only just beginning.

Pardonably, perhaps he found his body beautiful because it represented life, or perhaps, less excusably and profoundly, simply because it was Draco. Shite, that mere bracket shape of his converging legs, making an oval shape between them, was just playing havoc on Harry. Draco could move; Draco was seductive; Draco was provocative. That come-hither look in his eyes had spelt disaster for him from the beginning.

Of what wasn't Draco capable? What wasn't Draco capable of making him feel? He had gone through being scared for him, to feeling sympathetic towards him, then he comforted him, and in his dreams... in his dreams, it was physical, superficial. But now this insinuating, captivating Possession for Draco was transcending out of those dreams and into reality, into him, into Harry, and it scared him almost as much as he was scared for Draco every time he entered from that heavily carved door on the left.

Harry lay in his four-poster bed with his hands holding his head.

If he had never been before, then he was now most certainly and royally screwed.

But apart from his self-ignominy, his utter humiliation in discovering just how much Draco affected him, and just reeling from it all, he also felt a lingering, silently simmering anger, perhaps its vestiges traceable back to Voldemort's own fury at Draco in his drea--nightmare.

Floating forth the still of a crying Draco on the floor, cast in darkness, his eyes holding so much fear in them as he looked up at him, and being tortured at Voldemort's wand, Harry leapt out of his four-poster and had just enough reason amidst his rage to grab a school robe to conceal his wet spot and to protect him from the coming chilling air outside the common room, before flying out of the boys' dormitory. Jaw set, emeralds alight, Harry mechanically glided down the stairs, eyes only for the portrait hole.

"Oh, there you are, Harry. Sirius has some interesting news f..."

The fire and the face in it died out as Harry's rage swept past the couches to the hole.

Ron and Hermione were left to gape behind Harry's figure as he climbed out of the portrait hole. Eyes popping, they took in the flickering candles of the common room and the desolate fireplace that had been alight only a moment ago with Sirius' smiling face. They exchanged bewildered looks before leaping up and following Harry in haste.

Why isn't Dumbledore protecting Draco? Didn't Draco ask him for his protection? And he still let that monster torture him besides raping him again!

Insolent fool! You dare mock me, dare pleasure yourself? You despicable excuse of a being! You'll live to regret the moment the first moan left your lips! Crucio!

Harry's quick strides echoed in the hallway as the light of each torch he passed flickered weakly and wavered, and the tall glass windows rattled on their frames in his wake.

So incensed was he, he didn't hear a second and third pair of footsteps following him.

Draco's being tortured with the Cruciatus right now! He went back to Voldemort tonight after Dumbledore promised to protect him! Dumbledore is a hypocrite, a useless, dying hypocrite!

Do you truly think I did this for your own benefit, that I punished you with servicing me so that you could ride on the throes of ecstasy? This was your final blunder, young Draco; you will shortly learn what true excruciation is! Tortus!

"Lemon Drop!"

The gargoyle immediately shifted and Harry climbed onto the ascending stairs.

In the depths of the partly dark hallway (due to some of the torches being put out by Harry, presumably), Ron and Hermione held back at bit, and let Harry ascend the stairs alone rather than approach him when it was clear he was looking to kill.

Hopefully that would be left figurative.

The stairs stopped moving and Harry stomped ahead to the large, oaken doors of Dumbledore's office.

Then the doors flew open with a flurry of black, furious robes.

"Potter! What the hell are you doing here?" Snape hissed, as he secretively closed the doors behind him. "You seem to have an awfu--"

"Step aside, Severus," ordered Harry dismissively, as he made to pass Snape.

If Snape was surprised by his given name passing through Harry's lips, and this temerarious, disrespectful urgency, he didn't show it, for his hand didn't hesitate to go forward to manhandle Harry as he attempted to pass. "Dare speak to me like that ag--"

"I said, step aside!"

Snape was thrown off his feet, by no physical means, into the wall opposite and landed on the stone floor, unconscious.

Harry proceeded forward and flung the doors open.

A derisive laugh. "Don't flatter yourself, Headmaster, I was merely requesting..."

Harry stopped in his tracks and stood there just inside the doorway, mystified for one, stunning second.

"Lucius."

The tall, elegantly donned figure of Lucius Malfoy stood there in front of Dumbledore's table, his body slightly twisted backwards to face him, and a cool, patronizing eyebrow raised in question.

"Mr Potter, what a pleasant surprise," was the refined drawl from the patriarch, who turned around fully and straightened his cane as he stood. The trademark white-blond hair was resting gracefully on his broad shoulders, and an equally patented smirk curled the one side of his lips. The steely grey eyes gave Harry a dismissive once-over. "Still quite alive, I see."

Harry stood there, his green eyes focussed on grey ones, so much like Draco's.

"Lucius," Harry hissed as he slowly swept into the room and fixed his eyes on the man. "I didn't think of you to turn traitor."

Lucius' eyebrow rose higher as he frowned slightly.

"Perhaps not never, yes, but not so soon either. This is below you, Lucius."

Harry suddenly whipped his head to the side, leaving a steeled, calculating, wary gaze coming from Lucius, and took in the petite, equally graceful person of Narcissa Malfoy. Her golden blonde hair was styled in a tight bun, her blue eyes were gazing sharply at him and her hands and legs were crossed graciously, the member of high society she was. He slowly prowled towards her.

"Ah, Narcissa my dear. You dare turn on me as well?" he lilted sweetly with a smile, and then a peachy, teenage finger slipped under Lady Malfoy's chin and tilted it up just as he did his own. "As much as your... politely adamant detachment from my service has saved you from my hands thus far, be certain it will be no prerogative from this moment forth."

Realization blazed and horrendous fear seemed to freeze Lucius Malfoy rigid. He stood there, rendered motionless, grey eyes gazing at Harry not with blatant, incredulous fear, but with stationary, stunned acuity.

"Mr Potter," he managed to articulate in a steady voice, "Would you care to explain why you're harassing my wife?"

Outside Dumbledore's office, Hermione gasped at the unmoving figure of Professor Snape on the floor after she and Ron ascended the spiralling stairs. They moved towards him in the vestibule and knelt down to try to rouse him awake. "Professor Snape!" Hermione whispered as she shook the man's shoulders while Ron came around and hauled the professor in a sitting position, resting him against the wall.

Snape grimaced as his eyes slowly opened and his hand went behind his head and rubbed it.

Ron made to go to the door, but a surprising firm grip halted him; he turned to the Snape.

Snape shook his head, piercing Ron with black, depthless eyes. "If you go in there, it's likely you'll live to regret it. If you live, that is..."

Ron and Hermione eyed Snape back with floored expressions, then turned disbelieving, horrified eyes at the large, oaken doors, behind which everything was happening.

Snape surreptitiously drew his wand and gave it a twitch.

Through the slit of the oaken doors and back into the circular office, Harry whipped his head to Lucius, his green eyes sharp and cunning, and a sadistic grin curved his lips as his finger slipped off Lady Malfoy's chin. "Your son shows me unthinkable impertinence, Lucius. I told you he would show his true colours," he mocked, ignoring the question. "He was enjoying my body and seeking out his own pleasure from it. I think we can say with conviction that he is truly a pretty whore and was meant to be one."

The portraits were having a real feast; some had actually capitulated to their curiosity and approached the fore of their portraits the better to see and hear what was going on. Phineas Nigellus Black was looking mesmerized by this darker version of Harry, and Armando Dippet could not keep his eyes off him as well, though he looked more horrified than mesmerized.

The grin fell as a sharp glint flashed in his emerald eyes. "He is yet to attain the document I charged him with doing. He's useless and will thus fittingly serve a far lesser duty." The returning, now leering grin hinted at the nature of this 'duty'. He prowled slowly to Lucius, fluid as a snake. "I will feed your son to that distasteful species Fenrir. Lord Voldemort does little mercy, Lucius - you should know this. Perhaps a little loving from him will straighten young Draco out, if he survives, of course. Tell me, Lucius, how would you find your one and only heir contaminated with werewolf blood?"

Lucius Malfoy remained silent, and no emotion played on his pale face.

Dumbledore slipped his wand furtively into his robes from view and stood up from his seat, coming around the table just as Harry fell quiet after enjoying a good laugh at Lucius. His eyes locked onto Dumbledore as the man clasped his hands in front of his lips and as his blue eyes watched him with wary warmth.

"Harry," said Dumbledore.

Harry's lips stretched into a malevolent grin. "Dumbledore."

Dumbledore remained silent for a moment, holding his gaze at Harry. "Harry, you can fight this. Do not allow Voldemort--" There were subtle flinches from Narcissa and Lucius. "--to control you like this. Remember the ones you love, the things you care about," he beseeched sternly.

Harry blinked.

Then he threw his head back and released a bark of laughter. "Yes, a refreshing reminder of your foolishness, old man!"

"Think about how angry he makes you because of what he is and what he does," Dumbledore continued unperturbedly, "what he's doing to Draco. Think about Draco."

That seemed to strike a chord with Harry, astounding Snape, Ron, and Hermione, who had all been surreptitiously watching through the narrow fissure of the door, most poignantly. Harry's silent giggles at Dumbledore's frivolous words were cut short.

"Despite your longstanding differences, you still care about him, don't you, Harry?" Dumbledore smiled warmly at Harry as he quirked an eyebrow.

Harry started.

Conflicted, swirling emeralds gazed back at Dumbledore.

Draco - school nemesis.
Draco - useless invalid!

Draco - scared for him.
Draco - serve my punishment!

Draco - care about him.
Draco - my pretty catamite!

Draco - love him.
Draco... What is this...?

Harry collapsed to the floor.

Lucius grabbed his wife to flee for Malfoy Manor.

"Mr Malfoy," Dumbledore said in halting as he stooped down to pick up Harry's inanimate body from the floor.

White-blond hair whipped around as flaring silver glared back.

Dumbledore, not looking his age at all as he effortlessly held Harry in his arms, gazed back at Lucius with equal intensity in his eyes. "I do realize the very sudden and urgent severity of the circumstances, but as you are now regarded as perfidious in the Dark Lord's eyes, it is perhaps prudent that we discuss this matter properly before taking any further action."

Lucius turned around fully to face Dumbledore after giving his wife an assessing, cursory glance, and then his eyes darted down at Harry; a muscle in his jaw jumped. "I'm going to get my son, Headmaster. Assuming you do not suffer from selective hearing, you heard what the Dark Lord's going to - or is - doing to him. I'm sure you can appreciate the urgency." He gave a fleeting smile that actually could not have looked more fitting on his face.

"I certainly do, Mr Malfoy," answered Dumbledore calmly. "However, as supreme as I believe your duelling skills are, looking to can handle all of Lord Voldemort's--" Lucius and Narcissa flinched again. "--Death Eaters at once is perhaps a tad ambitious?" He raised a silver eyebrow.

"Foolishly ambitious," said Black, who apparently had lost his respect for the Malfoys.

As though he hadn't heard him, Lucius gave Dumbledore a sharp but calm glare, as only capable by him. "I wouldn't need to do so if I pleaded my case, if I crawl back to him right now with convincing contrition," he informed silkily.

Dumbledore gazed back at Lucius steadily for a moment before he spoke. "Mr Malfoy, you needn't act so rashly--" Lucius' head tilted sideways in incredulous condescension. "--I believe it would be far better in the end if you have us by your side. Voldemort (flinches) -forgive me - the Dark Lord--" Lucius tossed his hair, clearing attempting to recover his pride. "--as he has said himself, is not lenient towards failure and betrayal. I don't believe you want to find the limit of his tolerance if you still flinch at the mere mention of his name." Lucius' chin tilted even higher. "I beseech you to remain our ally. I can assemble the entire Order and have them rescue your son safely without you having to leave this office."

Lucius did not answer for several moments. Then he had a calculating gaze in his eyes as he combed over the proposal. "Distantly presuming you rescue Draco successively, I still have the Manor to lose as I couldn't risk returning there," he drawled with either another fleeting smile that could be regarded either as wry or sardonic.

"Believe me when I say we are hard at work in defeating the Dark Lord. I daren't say it is simple, but it is most definitely guaranteed, by me and Mr Potter here."

Lucius had a look on his face that clearly said, 'Did the man honestly think he could take his and Potter's - who was conveniently unconscious for this - word for it?' He gave a single, refined bark of laughter, and then he took a deep breath that rather signified the time for pragmatic action and simultaneously told of his exasperation. "Dumbledore, my son is possibly, as we speak, being either tortured by the Dark Lord himself or... harmed by that despicable Fenrir. We will take our leave now, thank you." He cast a disdainful look at the now rousing Harry before whirling around and pulling open the oaken doors. "Cissa," he said perfunctorily to his wife and followed her out.

"Wait." A somnolent slur.

Harry's stubbornly blurred vision defiantly fixed at the smudge of platinum-blond hair. He gave Dumbledore a brief, thankful, if embarrassed glance and made to stand on his own two feet, wondering how an old man could carry a teenager like that. He guessed he wasn't as heavy as he thought he was; curse the Dursleys once more. Dumbledore readily obliged and put him down on the floor. Harry only vaguely remembered feeling angry towards Dumbledore when he had woken from the nightmare, but for the life of him, he couldn't exactly recall anything that happened after that. He looked ahead through the aperture of the door at the now rapidly clearing image of Lucius Malfoy.

He watched the man step inside once again and glare at him mildly. He had an air of urgency about him.

"What is it, Potter?" Malfoy hissed through seemingly unmoving lips.

Why did Slytherins always talk so subtly? He thought this had been previously attributable to the Malfoys exclusively (when Draco wasn't heatedly cursing his and his friends' bloodlines) but even Snape had a tendency to do this when he was in his darker moods.

Harry scrunched his eyes shut for a second before opening them again. "Draco. How can you allow Voldemort (a satisfying flinch from Lucius) to do... what he does to him? Don't you care at least about your own son?"

Snape, Ron, and Hermione slipped into the office just as Lucius stepped forward and made to slip his wand out of his snake cane, a snarl on his lips.

"That isn't necessary, Mr Malfoy," Dumbledore warned calmly just as Ron and Hermione whipped out their own wands and trained them on Lucius. "That includes you two as well, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger."

The two wands lingered fixedly for a few seconds before the wary expressions relented and Ron and Hermione lowered their wands, but did not stow them away. In all of this, Lucius' stony glare hadn't wavered from Harry and his expression hadn't changed, which effectively meant he hadn't deemed the then raised wands as remotely threatening. Lucius then slowly lowered and unhanded his cane, and tossed a few strands of hair off his shoulders.

"Watch your tongue, boy. You needn't enlighten us with your..." Lucius' eyes shot to Snape and back. "...valued opinions." Both men's lips twitched for a moment. "You don't know what you're talking about. No doubt you're exerc--" And just then, Lucius seemed to realize something, perhaps that if he had been possessed by Voldemort that night, then yes, Harry probably did know what he was talking about. Ignited, silver marbles looked back into accusing emeralds in silent incredulity, stunned for the second time that night by Harry.

"I DO know what I'm talking about! I bloody see what he does to him every nigh--" Harry stopped sharply, and his uncertain eyes shot to Ron and Hermione before quickly returning to Lucius, assuming their previous heat. In that moment, all, less Ron and Hermione, shared the same fear: the exposure of Draco's Unforgivable predicament. Lucius' wary gaze narrowed minutely at Harry.

"Harry," Dumbledore inserted prudently in the hiatus, "do you perhaps wish to lie down for a while? I'm sure you feel fine but I don't think Poppy could forgive me for not following proper protocol." He chuckled a little at his words.

Lucius' upper lip curled backed.

Snape smirked at Lucius' reaction in turn; obviously, Lucius wasn't vastly acquainted with Dumbledore's humour, or lack thereof, perhaps. He waved his wand furtively, and at the same time, Ron's and Hermione's frowns lifted.

"Yes, Harry, you took a bad fall and hit your head. Sit down," Hermione said firmly, after shaking her head as though to snap herself out a trance and in a tone that told Harry he was better off obeying.

Ron nodded at Harry as he prodded the insides of his ears with his fingers, looking similarly disoriented.

"I'm fine," Harry ground out curtly, standing his ground. He had only eyes for the man supposed to be Draco's father, the primary man who was supposed to protect him.

Lucius effortlessly matched Harry's glare. "This little reunion of sorts is all well and good, but I do need to get going." His eyes swivelled up to Dumbledore's. "Unless you can guarantee my family's safety and continued access to the Manor, Headmaster, I cannot waste my time here any longer. Severus," he said perfunctorily in farewell before sweeping out the office again.

Harry was hot on his heels.

"Malfoy!"

Harry didn't completely understand why the man was here in the first place, but he did know that he was doing nothing to help Draco, his own son. Perhaps Malfoy had been here to ask for that help from Dumbledore tonight. But Dumbledore was useless! He promised but he didn't live up to them! Before disappearing into the vestibule, he turned an angry glare at said person, which in its wake left flabbergasted expressions by Ron and Hermione while Snape raised his eyebrow.

"Malfoy!"

He followed the man down the descending spiralling stairs and into the hallway, where he saw Narcissa Malfoy standing majestically. Oh yes, she was here as well, he vaguely recalled. Even in this urgent situation, even in his anger and indignation, he could still process the majestic beauty of Narcissa Malfoy, long, sweeping purple robes adorning her graceful figure. The chin was level with the ground and the hands clasped with the elbows turned out slightly.

Her face was now pensive, thoughtful, but if Harry's eyes weren't deceiving him, he could see a slight, upward curl to her lips that made her look wistful but almost blissful as well - the Mona Lisa smile epitomized. Petite, and everything about her extremely refined, she so eloquently conveyed that honed, perhaps even natural, air of superiority.

She held onto her husband's arm as he approached. Lucius Malfoy was ignoring Harry and proceeding with his wife to traverse the hallway, probably to the school gates to Disapparate.

"Why aren't you doing anything to protect Draco from that sadistic snake?"

Lucius Malfoy didn't deign to even look his way. "I told you to mind your incorrigible tongue, Mr Potter. Otherwise, I can easily relieve you of it." He indicated his snake cane, where his wand lay.

Daring not to take this as an idle threat, especially considering his Death Eater status, which probably came with torturing talents, Harry swallowed but continued to track his and his wife's progress down the hallway.

"I needn't tell you this, but I am doing everything I can at this moment, so kindly depart from my vicinity, Mr Potter." Lucius' swift and elegant strides carried him down the corridor with his wife in hand.

Harry's steps faltered and he lingered back for a while, watching the fading heads of blond hair. I can't just watch Draco suffer anymore; he made up his mind.

"I'm coming with!"