Coveting Thy Enemy

Chapter 19: Emotion

When Draco's body collapsed upon his, Harry snaked his arms around him and barrel rolled them to their sides. Facing each other, the boys paused a moment for their trembling to subside. Draco regained composure first, and gazed at Harry, whose eyes were closed and trying to catch his breath. Draco kissed Harry's eyelids and giggled when his lashes tickled his lips when his eyes open. His lips then moved to Harry's cheek, and down to his jaw. Pulling his head up to Harry's unwavering gaze, he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and smoothed it down to his waist. This set them both to trembling again, and they decided to just give in to the emotion.

Harry propped himself up and said, "Roll over, love." Draco conceded, rolling over onto his back. Harry was hesitant at first. "Draco, I don't know what I'm doing."

"It's all right Harry. I've wanted you for so long, please just touch me." Draco said, biting his bottom lip under the pure torture of Harry's missing touch. Harry leaned in and took control of Draco's ear. His teeth lightly bit a soft earlobe, his tongue swirling slowly the ridges of the shell of the ear. Draco groaned under these ministrations, and he reached up pulling Harry to his lips. Both boys had completely given into passion by then, all embarrassment long forgotten. When Harry pulled away, it was to trail butterfly kisses down Draco's neck to his collarbone. When his gaze moved farther down, he stared entranced at a pink nipple before kissing the nub to hardness. He heard Draco gasp, and the boy's hands went into his hair, holding his head at his breast. Harry spiralled the velvety hard nipple with his tongue until Draco groaned, then he moved to the other one. After being awarded with another groan, he moved down to the center of Draco's abdomen, licking and kissing, not wanting to mar the beautiful expanse of pale flesh beneath his lips.

When Harry's mouth encountered the band of Draco's trousers he looked up at silver eyes questioningly. "You don't have to if you don't want to," Draco said breathlessly.

"Do you want me to?"

"Hell, yes."

Harry flashed a smug grin up at the silver-haired Slytherin and began unbuttoning the trousers. It was a difficult job since Harry's hands were shaking and Draco was so swollen beneath the fly, but he was finally able to pull them off and toss them unceremoniously to the floor. Draco's black briefs followed suit. When Draco was lying before him like a feast spread before a starving man, Harry realized he was at eye-level with Draco's sex. He should have known that every part of the boy would be beautiful, but he hadn't realized how beautiful another boy could actually be. Draco was very aroused, and his erection jutted out at Harry, waiting to be explored. Harry traced a tentative fingertip along the head of Draco's member. The other boy gasped then, and looking up, Harry watched as the silver eyes glazed over with need. Gathering up as much courage as he could muster, Harry slipped his mouth over Draco, tasting him.

Draco gasped loudly when Harry had all but swallowed him. He had never experienced anything like this before, and he bit at his lower lip, trying to keep control. He had wanted Harry so long, he was afraid he would finish before it even began. When Harry looked up at him, a question in his eyes, Draco nodded for him to continue. Although Harry was inexperienced, he seemed to know what Draco liked through experiment. Draco closed his eyes and let the emotionsHarry must have sensed what was going on with him because he didn't move until Draco was comfortable with him. wash over him. When he dared to look down, seeing his lover between his legs almost undid him once, and he didn't want that to happen so soon.

Harry began by slowly sliding his mouth up and down the Slytherin, liking the oxymoron of the soft hardness of him. When he grew accustomed to the situation, he began moving faster, applying pressure. When Draco began gasping and calling his name, he slowed down, adding his hand, mouth and hand moving simultaneously, until the beautiful blond boy finally shuddered. Harry reveled in Draco's taste. He then let Draco go, and began kissing back up his body until he met Draco's mouth. Draco's eyes still had that unbelievable color when he yanked Harry down to him by the nape of his neck, kissing him passionately, possessively. The kiss was short because neither boy was breathing yet.

"Harry Oh, Gods, Harry," Draco said, burying his face in Harry's neck. He seemed to be trying to recapture his breath.

When Draco seemed to no longer be at risk of hyperventilating, Harry asked nervously, "So, did I do it right?"

"Bloody hell, Harry. Sometimes your naivety irks me. You did it right. You were perfect." Draco said, watching the Gryffindor blush.

"Good."

Draco shook his head, "No, not good, fantastic. Now, what can I do for you?"

This seemed to embarrass Harry more. "I . . um. Err."

Draco laughed. It would be some time before Harry would be ready to tell him exactly what he wanted, but that was okay because he could experiment too. Rolling Harry over on his back, he took the dominant position. Harry's naivety had almost empowered him to the point that he was no longer unsure of himself. His soul desire at that point was to make Harry feel just as good as he felt when Harry had loved him. With loving hands, he stroked his way down Harry's body, his mouth and tongue following leader with his palms. When Harry's pants and boxers joined Draco's on the floor, Draco appraised his lover. Harry was something artists would kill one another to paint, he was a masterpiece. Harry had an athlete's body, slim but muscular. Harry hadn't lost his tan from the previous summer, although it was somewhat faded. Draco placed his arm atop of Harry's sculpted thigh, amazed at the difference in color, a vivid white against a darker tan. They were complete opposites, but fit so well together. A paradox of rightness. He would never cease to be amazed at this.

Draco eased his palms up Harry's slim thighs to his manhood. He and Harry were about the same length, but Harry seemed thicker. Looking up at Harry, he noticed Harry was watching his every movement. His emerald eyes radiating a passion that spurred Draco on. Draco kissed it, then he slid his mouth over Harry, hearing him groan. Watching every expression, every muscle twitch in Harry's face, Draco moved until, with a scream of Draco's name, Harry came. When Draco had cleaned Harry thoroughly, he finally rejoined him at the head of the bed.

Several minutes later, Harry turned over on his side, facing his lover. "Draco. . . I .. . Shit, I don't know how to say what that felt like . . ."

"Shhh. I know, love. There's no need to explain anything." Draco said, pushing a lock of ebony hair off of his cheek. Draco then noticed how cold it was in the room. It was always cold in the dungeons, but with sex-induced sweat evaporating off their skin, it was chillier than usual. He reached down and grabbed the green coverlet that had somehow landed on the floor and spread it over them. "Better?"

"Mmmhmm." They lay silently for quite a while. It was a comfortable silence brought on by the amazing sensations they had just shared.

Draco was the first to break the silence. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you stay?"

Harry looked at him tenderly. "Tomorrow's Sunday, I can stay as long as you like."

"How about forever?"

Harry laughed. "I think we would starve to death."

"It would be worth it."

"Yea." Harry said, still laughing. Everything with Draco, about Draco, was worth so much. He wanted to experience everything with him, to know everything about him. And, this was as good a time as ever to start asking some questions. Actually it was the best time, knowing Draco was in an exceptionally good mood. "Umm, Draco?"

"What, Harry?" Draco asked, snuggling himself up against Harry's side until he was laying with his head on Harry's shoulder and his fingers tangled in Harry's necklace.

Harry looked down at the top of the silvery-blonde head, wishing he could see Draco's face, but maybe it was better this way. "Are you ready to tell me about your summer?"

Draco paused for so long, Harry wondered if he fell asleep. But finally, "yes. I'll tell you anything you want to know, love. Just-Just, can we turn the light out?"

Harry knew that sometimes it was better to confess things when you couldn't see the expression of the one you was confessing to, so he sidled out from under Draco's body and finding his trousers crumpled on the floor, he removed his wand from the inside pocket. "Nox," he said, the dungeon room going complete black.

When he lay back, he reached for Draco and pulled him into the same position. "Whenever you're ready," he said.

Draco swallowed audibly and closed his eyes, despite the fact the room was already dark. He knew that sooner or later he would have to tell Harry all that had happened. He wanted to tell Harry all that happened, but it was still painful to dredge up the memory. "You of course know that my father was training me to be a Death Eater, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I guess you could say he had begun training me from birth. Little things at first. I had mastered the Unforgivable curses by the time I was seven. He began by bringing me insects at first, and then moved on to bigger and bigger animals. He even had me do Avada Kedavera on a unicorn once." Although Harry gasped, he went on. The tale was going to get worse, and he didn't want to pause now, or he wouldn't be able to continue. "Yes, I'm a master at the Avada Kedavera. My father made sure of that," he said, biting back the bitterness in his voice.

"By the time I came to Hogwarts, I was so well versed in the Dark Arts, I could probably teach a course. You probably knew that, though, or at least suspected it. The thing is, I didn't know any better, that was how I was raised, damn it! When I offered my hand to you in friendship, I assumed you had learned the same things. I assumed everybody had learned the same things. Needless to say, coming to Hogwarts and meeting other students and realizing I was different really unnerved me. So, I reacted the best I could. I was a mean bastard to everyone, especially to you, because you were the first one to reject me."

"Draco . . ."

"Shhh, Harry. Let me finish, please. My father raised me to believe that Malfoys were better than everyone else, and I believed him. I even admired the bastard, but that all changed after the end of sixth year. When you and your friends were going home on summer vacation, I was sent to Death Eater training. After all, that was what I was born for. Did you know that? My father promised me to Voldemort before I was even conceived!" He felt Harry shudder beneath his cheek. "Every day my father would blindfold me, then we would use a portkey to some place. I don't know where because he wouldn't remove my blindfold until we was with Voldemort. At first the training was pretty easy. I just had to prove to Voldemort I knew the Unforgivables. You know, on animals. It was child's play, really. Then, Voldemort began to teach me some of the harder Dark Arts stuff, like controlling the souls of the dead. That was easy, too. He was even pretty nice to me, like I was a protégé or something. Then, on my seventeenth birthday, I had to go through initiation. My father, Voldemort, and I met in a cavern of some sort. They were planning to raid a Muggle house. I was really nervous because they were planning to kill the Muggles who lived there, just for sport. I had never killed anyone before, and I really didn't want to kill anyone. But, my father wanted me to, and so I figured it was al right. After all, they were only Muggles. 'Only Muggles.' That's how I thought then . . ."

Draco paused for a moment. Harry knew he wasn't expected to say anything. He didn't think Draco even wanted him to say anything at that moment, so he kept silent. Finally, Draco was able to go on. "The Muggles who lived there must have been pretty wealthy because the house was huge, a castle almost. We apparated inside the house, surprising the people who were there. I remember, they were watching television. The whole family were in the family room. There were five of them, the mother, the father, a teenage girl, and two twin toddlers. There were kids, for crying out loud! Voldemort killed the father quickly with the killing curse, and my father killed the mother just as quickly. When they got to the kids, though, they took their time. The girl had tried to shelter the twins with her body, but my father put Cruciatus on her. She was screaming so loudly, I can still hear it in my dreams at night. He did that. He kept putting her under Cruciatus until she was babbling nonsense. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she was drooling. She must have gone insane. Throughout all of this, the twins had huddled into a corner, they were crying. The bastards had made them watch their whole family die! I was almost glad when Voldemort used the killing curse on the girl. I couldn't stand to see her suffer anymore.

When it came to the twins, they weren't as controlled. It seems they get off on killing children . . . They began placing hexes on them left and right. Some of them I never heard of before. They especially liked the hexes that caused some type of pain. They were playing with them, enjoying the pain they were causing. After about an hour of torturing them, my father took out a knife and slit one of their throats. It took him about ten minutes to die. I'll never forget that. Then, my father handed the knife to me and said, "Go on, son. It's your turn." But, I couldn't do it. I just stared at the knife he was holding out to me. It was almost like I was paralyzed. My father told me that if I didn't do it, then I wouldn't get the Dark Mark. But, I was glad. I didn't want the Dark Mark. I'm not sure if I ever really wanted it. All I wanted was respect from my father. Until that point. I stopped respecting him the moment I saw him kill another human being. So, I shook my head and told him I didn't want the mark, and if he wanted the boy dead, he would have to do it himself. And he did. But, because of my refusal, he seemed to need to torture the boy even more. He sliced him with that knife, almost everywhere. He was still living when my father finally put him out of his misery."

Harry arms encircled him, giving him warmth. He was cold, so damn cold! "Do you know why they call them Death Eaters, Harry?"

"No."

"Because, that's what they do. They're cannibals, Harry. They drink their blood, then they eat their hearts when they're through. I watched both Voldemort and my father do this that night. I watched them not only kill five people, but cannibalize them, and I didn't do a damn thing to stop them!"

Harry sighed. It seemed that Draco had been living with overwhelming guilt for quite some time. "Draco, could you have done anything? Could you have stopped either your father or Voldemort?"

"No. I didn't even have my wand that night. I wasn't allowed to bring it. But, at least I could have tried. Even if I died trying, I could have at least given a fight."

"No, Draco. Would your death have solved anything?" He waited for Draco to answer, but he didn't. "No, it wouldn't. Those people would have still been killed, and the death count would have been six, not five."

"You're right, I guess. But, it doesn't make me feel much better." Draco admitted.

Harry wished he could see Draco's eyes at that moment, but he couldn't. "It'll take time to heal, Draco, and I'll be here for you to help you. I promise you that." Harry said and kissed the top of Draco's head, nuzzling his face in the soft hair, absorbing Draco's scent. When he spoke again, his breath rustled through Draco's hair warmly. "What did he do after that? Your father, I mean."

"The same thing he always does when I disobey. He beat me until I passed out."

Harry wasn't surprised at this. He knew from subtle hints Draco had been giving him over the last few months that Lucius Malfoy was abusive. He pulled the Slytherin even tighter into his embrace, holding him for several minutes. Finally, the dam broke and Draco began sobbing into his chest. Harry didn't say anything, he just let him cry, rubbing his back soothingly as he did so. Draco cried for a very long time, until there didn't seem to be any tears left. They were tears that he had been holding back for a long time. Some were from six months ago, others had been held for seventeen years. Harry simply held him after he cried until he could feel the other boy's deep breathing against his chest. Draco had fallen asleep, and Harry followed suit soon afterward.