![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Note that my warning has been changed AGAIN, now that I have finished reading DH. Anyone worried about spoiler issues, please make sure you read it.
Title: The Road (20/?)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rurounihime
Rating: hard R when all is said and done…
Pairing: H/D eventually
Summary: In the midst of a disintegrating war, Harry awaits the arrival of the Order’s last hope.
Warning: violence, character death, spoilers for all seven books. This fic is now AU because of Deathly Hallows. And at the risk of much silliness, I now discover that there are apparently DH spoilers in this story from the beginning. O.o
Disclaimer: The HP characters and most of the spellwork do not belong to me.
A/N: Thank you to April for her fabulous and attentive beta-ing, and to Coffee for constantly letting me bounce ideas off of her. The other major pairing in this is Blaise/Seamus, but there are minor het pairings as well.
…
No artwork or music for this chapter.
…
**ETA: THIS CHAPTER HAS RECEIVED ITS FINAL EDIT**
Previous chapters
Chapter 20: The Trials and Tribulations of Harry Potter
The knock at his door late the next morning was soft. Harry nearly missed it in the swell of Luna’s song. He stood slowly. It could be anyone. Merlin knew the possibilities were growing with every person who drifted into the castle. But something warned him of the presence on the other side of the door.
When he opened it, there was no surprise at seeing straight blond hair, pale skin and deep-water eyes churning different flecks of grey.
* * *
With a strength born of adrenaline, Harry lifted Draco and settled him back against the head of the bed. Draco’s mouth was all over his face and throat, leaving hot patches that stung in the room’s cooler air. Harry gripped Draco’s naked hips and thrust into him, and Draco arched. His legs wrapped vice-like around Harry’s waist. Harry slid his hand under one thigh and held him up. Held him close. Fingernails dug into his back.
It felt damned good to be inside Draco again, like a taste he hadn’t been able to catch as it evaded the tip of his tongue. He suddenly found it full-bodied, all over the inside of his mouth, with barely time to exhale his relief, to start at the shock of having it before it slipped away again. He reached between them, nudging his fingers against Draco’s soft belly and sliding down, wrapping his hand tightly around him, and feeling the wordless, desperate sounds Draco made. Draco’s entire body hitched against him. Harry could feel all five of his fingertips digging into his side.
It always seemed to come so fast with Draco. Over so quickly. Harry had found over the past few days that he couldn’t hold himself back, and it was something he was… not quite relieved about, but in the same family, whenever Draco came just as quickly as he did, shaking and knocking his head against the wall or the mattress, or the wooden bed frame. Eyes rolling up, guarded with fluttering, ashy lashes. Harry had watched it each previous time in rapidly disintegrating silence, moving more raggedly, barely seeing the final, full jerk of Draco’s body before his own climax took him and he couldn’t see much of anything anymore.
This time Harry tugged Draco down to the sheets, flat across the bed at all the wrong angles, intent upon the peak he knew was coming. His own foot hung over the edge, toes cold, Draco’s legs a tensing twist around his sides and his abdomen taut with the effort of raising his hips off the mattress. Harry found his mouth, his tongue, even a vocal sigh at the contact. He pulled back to breathe, just touching Draco’s lips with his own as they moved, air rushing in hot, uneven gusts between them.
But Draco went oddly limp just as Harry stroked over the thin scar running up his side. Harry could still feel Draco’s arousal with his other hand. But the man himself had ceased to move.
Harry curled his fingers gently through the soft, sweaty blond hair beneath them. The roiling heat that had been building in his abdomen began to fade back. “What’s wrong?” he gasped.
“You’re going to do it anyway.” Draco’s voice was devoid of emotion, as though he couldn’t find the energy.
“What?”
Draco swallowed and turned his head. “Weasley, Potter. For fuck’s sake.”
It took Harry a minute to sort out the jumble. He wasn’t ready, or prepared, to talk about Ginny Weasley. His reasons for evading it seemed shameful, but it felt like one thing he could avoid. One thing in all this mess that wasn’t careening toward him quite as fast as everything else. “Don’t,” he whispered. He feared saying any more for what might come out on top of it.
In an instant, Draco was struggling, body still surrounding Harry but trying to gain distance. Harry grabbed his hips instinctively, clenching his eyes shut at the discomfort. Draco halted, shivering, and Harry made a sudden decision, not lifting, not drawing back, but holding Draco firmly where he was. Draco’s fingers curled into a fist against his flesh.
“Let me go, Potter,” he said in a low voice.
Harry gave himself a single breath. And then he let go.
But Draco didn’t move any further. It was as though he’d lost the will to follow through. Or maybe—Harry peered at him sharply, at his flushed face and kiss-reddened mouth. Draco’s eyes slid shut, and for just a moment, his body clenched around Harry.
“Please don’t,” Harry murmured, not sure where the words were coming from, but suddenly certain that Draco didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to part them just yet. He stroked a palm down Draco’s sweat-slick chest, desperate to memorise each arc and hollow in case they should be taken from him.
Draco’s eyelids fluttered. And then snapped open. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he hissed, and pushed Harry’s hand off. His legs rose as if he would roll away. And then they dropped back. Harry took a chance, running both hands up Draco’s bare thighs and back down again soothingly. Up. Down. Draco made no move to stop him. Just stared up at him. His face glowed with the sheen of his exertions in the room’s light.
“Would it make any difference if I said I don’t want to do it?” Harry asked quietly.
Draco’s expression hardened. Harry felt a momentary surge of nostalgia at the sight, but it was only an echo of the strength Draco had once possessed. Gods, three short years were all it took to drain this man of his vitality. Harry wondered, not for the first time, how he himself looked to everyone else. Had he lost any recognisable lustre or was he the same person they’d always seen? How many of them ever really saw the real him anyway?
How many times did he let any of them see?
“Just fulfilling your bloody duty to the cause then, are you?” Draco’s fingers tightened around Harry’s wrist to the threshold of pain. “That’s so magnanimous of you. Let me be the first to thank you.”
Harry shook his head. “You think this is about being a martyr? This whole thing? Fuck.”
“I respond to what I see, Potter,” Draco rejoined immediately, lifting his head off the sheets. He resembled a snake, lithe and gorgeous. Spitting angry in a mortal flash. “I suppose this is all part of it.” He gestured, a furious sweep of one hand, and Harry’s irritation flared. He sat back and Draco winced slightly at the movement.
“You’re the one who came back here,” Harry retorted.
Draco’s expression rolled through several emotions, and Harry’s anger compounded, twining into something he couldn’t decipher. He inhaled sharply. Draco’s legs were a close, heavy heat around him.
“Draco.” He hesitated for one more second, then leaned slowly back over Draco. Draco’s eyes narrowed. His legs bent, sliding higher up Harry’s hips. Harry knew he was feeling the movement inside as well, saw it pass over Draco’s face in a strange sort of shiver. Draco’s cheeks flushed so gradually Harry couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began. He braced himself on his arms, a hand either side of Draco’s head, and shifted his legs closer against Draco one at a time. Draco shuddered bodily, his eyes fixed on Harry’s.
Harry flexed his hips forward gently. Steadily. Draco’s hands tensed around handfuls of sheet. His head fell loosely back to the bed, and the burning in Harry’s belly flickered up out of the depths.
“Harry—”
He heard his name on the next thrust, and he just knew Draco hadn’t meant to say it. But the look on his face, open and helpless, told Harry that Draco didn’t care. Or didn’t know he’d spoken. He kissed the slope of Draco’s throat, and his lover’s head fell to the side, baring a pale expanse that tasted of salt. Harry gave in and sucked on his skin, light, sweet presses of his mouth. Getting harder to control. He exhaled harshly against Draco’s throat and felt the moan ripple beneath his lips. It came out as a weak gasp just at his ear.
“There are a lot of things I don’t want,” Harry managed. Draco’s hands climbed over his shoulders and clutched there, fingers tightening as he spoke. “This…” He almost shied away from speaking it aloud. “…isn’t one of them.”
“Merlin, Harry—”
He kissed Draco into silence, and drew out of it slowly, feeling Draco’s panted breaths rush over his face. His own body was beginning to shake; he was closer than he thought, always so much closer than he ever thought. Harry forced himself to stop moving and nearly broke his resolve immediately as Draco lifted his hips to meet him.
He meant to explain himself, clarify why he couldn’t feel good about any of this, or ask why Draco was here at all. Why he was with Harry after everything that had happened. After everything Harry had done. What came out was, “Please tell me what you want.” Choked, well over the edge into desperate.
Draco’s eyes widened. He stared up at Harry, naked thighs quivering heedlessly at Harry’s waist. His body was almost too hot.
And then his legs dropped. He reached up and flattened a palm against Harry’s chest. “I—What in hell is this, Potter?”
Harry remained silent, sensing the razor edge and not knowing how he’d gotten there so quickly. Draco’s jaw tightened. His eyes darted over Harry’s face, down his body as though searching. He let out a harsh exhalation. “Doesn’t fucking matter. I never get what I want.”
Harry felt the pressure against his chest, but he didn’t move back, and Draco hovered on the edge of pushing him away.
“What do you care what I want?” Draco spat suddenly. “We all have our duties, don’t we?”
Harry frowned, and Draco went the final inch and pushed him off. Out. The loss of contact was sharper than he was prepared for. He knelt between Draco’s knees, staring down at him. “We’re in a war, Draco,” he said. “Duty is necessary. It’s become more important than anything else.”
“Are you even in love with her, Potter?”
Fear frothed in the pit of his stomach like an angry sea. Harry pulled back, jerking a hand through his hair. He got off the bed. “You don’t have any idea…”
“Fuck.” Draco rose, too, snatching his shirt from the floor.
“There are things you don’t know, Draco,” Harry said warningly.
“There always are,” Draco replied, his voice shaking, and it wasn’t arousal or sorrow this time, but anger. He thrust his arm into one sleeve, pulled the other one on, and yanked the shirt into place so fiercely that Harry expected it to rip. Draco bent and grabbed his trousers, but then just stood there, naked from the waist down and shining with sweat, his last article of clothing clutched in whitened fingers. He thrust a hand out at Harry. “Just once, I wish I didn’t care, you know?”
“What do you want me to do, then?” Harry snapped. “You want me to just sit here? Not do everything in my power to stop that fucking bastard from ruining the whatever’s left? He’s already blighted the entire world! I can stop him, do you understand me? I can. Fuck if I’m just going to hide in here and not use what I have. I can’t let anyone else die!”
“Oh, yes,” Draco seethed, “your precious bond. I know all about it. Weasley isn’t exactly tight-lipped when she’s gloating.”
“You know, I don’t even know if it will work. I don’t know if it can work anymore, not when I’m in—” He stopped, appalled at how close he’d come to complicating everything. But he might as well have said the rest. He knew it at any rate; he wasn’t in love with Ginny. But that would hardly matter to the bond, would it? Love, while a catalyst for the more fiery components, was not exclusively necessary. Or so Dumbledore had believed. So all the books had said. There were other strengths they could get out of such a union.
Gods, he had to speak to Ginny. It was all rolling over him, sliding through kinks he’d not been vigilant enough to close. He sank down onto the bed again. He had to make it clear for her, as clear as it was for him. Had to define this bond, whatever it was, and whatever it was on the way to becoming. What sort of future she had to look forward to, once it was done.
He wondered what she would say to it all.
He was out of options. They all were. It just felt wrong to drag her into something he himself didn’t want, and as for the person he did want—
Bloody hell. He had no right to ask that of him. He’d asked too much already.
“What do you want me to do?” It heaved inside of him, the answer he both wanted and didn’t want, and suddenly he couldn’t keep silent. “Choose someone else?”
But as soon as he said it, he saw that it had always been there. The strange emptying of Draco’s face showed him where both of their thoughts lay, nights and days of shared heat building upon itself. The unspoken was not voiceless at all, and the alternative for the bond hung obviously before them both. Draco swallowed, his throat rippling arrestingly.
“Would you do it?”
It’s not about what I would do, Harry wanted to shout. There was no point in asking what he would do. So many things, so very many things. The first thing would be to live a life that didn’t belong to everyone else. The second would be to cease taking that which was not his to take.
But the third desire, he still might achieve if he held on tightly enough: to pass through whatever life he had left as fluidly as possible, without dragging others into the depths when his time to sink finally arrived. He’d never felt it so near before, a giant rock on the rim of sight.
He’d known what was expected of him for years. But his own death had never felt so real.
Magic had rules that a mere human being could never hope to break. A random prophecy turned into truth by an overzealous and terrified wizard had been more than enough, Harry’d thought. But to have it manifest as it eventually had… Exactly how random were prophecies, really? It was beside the point, now; Dumbledore had said as much, many times, every time Harry had needed to hear it, to stiffen his resolve. It was just… hard, knowing death was most definitely in the cards now.
It was one thing to kill Voldemort. As ugly a deed as that might be, Harry had no doubt that he’d find the incentive. Especially now, with the world half gone.
But… kill himself? He was beginning to think he might not be strong enough to see it through. And what would the Wizarding world do then, when its own saviour couldn’t summon to courage to do what was necessary?
Draco was glaring at him, hand tight around the waistband of his trousers. Harry wanted nothing more than to grab hold of him, pull them together again, relieve him of that damned sadness just behind his eyes, of the incredible loss that had been visited upon him. This bloody, fucking war had done it, and it was Harry’s war, wasn’t it? Even as a baby with absolutely no control, it had been his war, and it was scything through the people he loved one by one.
And now Draco. I want to be enough for you, Harry thought. The idea was a fearful yearning in his chest, like being thirsty and bleeding and sick and well all at the same time. I cannot pave the way for your death, too. Not yours.
“I can’t have what I want either,” Harry whispered. “Especially not…”
He heard the intake of a breath. Then another.
“Are you saying you want me?” It came out very quickly, as though Draco had flung it out against his will. Harry raised his eyes and found Draco looking back. His face was a worn wall, barely holding against whatever lay behind it. Every word of substance left Harry, as they always did. And this… Well. There was no way to answer this question. Not without putting it all out there, things even he couldn’t face. The anger boiled up.
“What are you saying, exactly?” he bit out.
The pause was much too long. Draco’s shoulders heaved.
“One of us has to give it up sometime, Potter.”
Harry held it off for a final beat of his heart and then lurched forward, throwing his hands up. He was gratified to see Draco flinch back at the movement. “Fine. Fine, Malfoy, here it is. I have nothing to offer you. Is that what you’re looking for? I have nothing to offer you. Nothing you can use, at any rate. Nothing worth offering!”
Draco countered his motion, chin jutting out, hands clenched into pale fists. “For fuck’s sake, you’re going to be the judge of what’s worth it to me? Still the same righteous, selfish—”
“The price will be too high!” Harry shouted, and Draco fell silent.
Harry’s body was vibrating, he was so tense. He drew an unsteady breath, furious at where the conversation was going. Not yet. Not here, and not yet.
“It’s too high, Draco,” he muttered. Bonds made and then snapped. Made with the intention to snap them later. He couldn’t look at Draco anymore and looked at the floor instead. His legs felt weak. “And yes, I am going to be the judge this time.”
There, right in front of his eyes, were his crumpled trousers in a heap on the floor. The heat rushed up his body. Merlin. He couldn’t breathe without thinking about Draco, what Draco felt like. Couldn’t even push him away without enjoying the contact.
“You are a selfish prick.” Draco’s voice held an ache that surprised Harry. Almost a keening quality to it. Or maybe that was Harry keening.
Harry shook his head. “Then that’s what I am. And that’s what the bond is, and that’s what my duty is. I’m not allowing the luxury of choice anymore. Every time I do, I get someone killed.”
“So big of you,” Draco lashed back. “Always something getting in the way. Tell me, Harry, if it’s so important to you, then why not with someone else? If that’s what you want so badly.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, don’t you see? It’s never mattered what I want! It has to be her. I don’t know why, and I don’t understand it, but Dumbledore was very clear about his choice.”
“Dumbledore?” Draco cried incredulously. “Dumbledore decided—”
“I have to do what will get the job done! I have to…” He faded out, took a deep breath. There are things coming that you can’t fathom. “I won’t push the price any higher. For anyone.”
“What are you talking about?” Draco whispered.
“I’m talking about why it can’t be you!” Harry shouted, stating the unspoken at last. “It can’t. I’m not going to let it happen.”
Draco’s face went white. He stood in front of Harry, eyes beyond injured, falling toward fury. Harry had never expected his statement to cut so deeply. He had no idea why it shouldn’t; everything about this made a warped sort of sense. But actually seeing it on Draco’s face—loss all over again, that perfect mouth twisting, the mouth he’d kissed and breathed into, the body that he’d touched now completely rigid and trembling—It hurt so much worse.
“Draco.” he tried. His mouth felt so dry.
But Draco spoke first. “Then you’ll be happy to know I won’t be around to get in your way.”
Harry blinked. “What?”
“I’m leaving, Potter.” Draco wasn’t looking at Harry anymore. His fingers made knots of his trouser fabric as he struggled to turn them right-side-in. “I’ve got my orders, and I’ll be gone in a few hours.”
Harry didn’t even have to think. He pushed off the bed, not caring how bare he was or how futile it might be to grab for Draco. “What?”
Draco snapped his head up, halting Harry’s reaching arm abruptly. Grey eyes skipped over his body and something flickered, painful and denied. Then it was gone. “Moody,” he said. It came out like a curse.
“Draco,” Harry hissed. But Draco turned easily out of his reach and tugged his trousers up, hiding those pale hips from sight. Harry’s chest ached fiercely and suddenly at the loss. Had Draco come here because he knew he would soon be sent away? Harry snatched for his arm again, and Draco backed away, fumbling the bottom two buttons of his shirt. He wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes, but Harry could see that Draco’s were dull, too glittery around the edges.
“Fucking hell, Draco, what did he tell you to do?”
Draco said nothing. His hair was a tangled mess, full of light and the damp of sweat. His hands ceased their relentless adjusting and fell to his sides. He glanced up once, as though he couldn’t help himself.
It came to Harry then, what was really going on. He scrambled for his clothes with such intent that they jumped off the floor to meet his reaching hand.
“No,” he growled. Draco moved and Harry spun on him, hand slicing through the air. “Stay here.”
Draco stared at him, eyes both empty and full. Muted outrage was there, but it was secondary to the hopelessness. Harry’s chest burst into an angry fire. He yanked his shirt on, then turned and gripped Draco’s arms with both hands. “Do not leave this room. I’ll be back.”
Draco didn’t answer.
Fuck. Fucking, fucking hell. Harry pulled his trousers on. His dresser was rattling, jumping and scraping against the wall, and he could barely see through the red in his eyes. He strode out of his room, not looking at Draco again, slamming the door much too hard.
They had the ability to search for outsiders at their fingertips and Moody wanted to shove Draco back out into the war, on a bleak mission to find someone he had no way of locating, short of using magic. Which was the point, Harry was sure.
It took him several minutes to reach Moody’s chambers. He shoved through the door without knocking. “You told Malfoy to go.”
Moody looked up from the parchments that were unrolled across the tabletop. He glowered at Harry with his good eye. The other swung back and forth, scanning the room. “You want Finnigan back, Potter?”
Harry bit his cheek to keep from lashing out. “Of course I do. But not at the expense of someone else!”
“This is war. When are you going to learn that there’s always some sort of ‘expense’?”
Harry stalked forward. “I thought we agreed that—”
Moody slashed a gnarled hand through the air, cutting off his words. “We didn’t agree. You ordered, Potter. Kingsley and I came to a different conclusion.”
“Kingsley decided this, did he?”
Moody frowned at him and bent back over his parchments. Maps, older ones. It was all they had left. And Harry couldn’t find it in himself to care. He set his hands flat on the table and leaned in. Moody raised his head, stared at him with both eyes.
“I’m asking you to order him to stay,” Harry said.
Moody scowled at Harry. “You can’t control the entire war, Potter. Malfoy has duties elsewhere.”
It was becoming habit, forcing himself to remain calm, but that didn’t make it any easier. “What, he hasn’t done enough? He’s fulfilled his ‘duties.’ For Godric’s sake, Moody—”
The older man spun on him, lurching forward on his uneven limbs. “Have you forgotten already? The war’s not going to wait until it’s convenient for us. He’s going.”
Harry threw a hand out toward the door, his stomach beginning to roll and clutch. “He’s in danger! If he leaves, they’ll find him and kill him.”
“Probably what they’re doing to Finnigan right now,” Moody snapped. “You were all so keen on getting him back yesterday. You’d rather I sent out Weasley? Or you? Don’t be an idiot, Potter.”
A year ago, Harry would never have been able to stare Alastor Moody down. Now it was too simple, considering what was at stake. “This isn’t about the job and you bloody well know it.”
Moody’s beady eye narrowed fiercely. “Just what are you insinuating, Potter?”
“You know damn well what I’m saying,” Harry snarled. Moody’s jaw tightened, but Harry’d had more than enough. The whole damn day was spiralling on him. He could still feel the heat of Draco around him, the slide and the salt on his lips. And now, there was the horrid feeling that despite his request, Draco was no longer in his bedroom. He just knew it, as if he’d watched Draco finish dressing and pull open the door. Far away, and getting further. The candelabra on Moody’s bookshelf began to vibrate, clattering closer to the edge.
“He’s not leaving,” Harry ground out. “I’ll make sure of it.”
When Moody said nothing in return, Harry turned and went right out the door. He strode down the hall in a red haze, heading for Luna’s chamber.
She’d as much as said she would look, that it would be little trouble. Luna was many things, but she was not a liar, not to make anyone happy or to suit any ulterior purpose. Harry was no fool: he knew her wards would be strained. He also knew it was the safer option. Until they exhausted it, it was ludicrous to send anyone out after Seamus. He didn’t need another death on his head.
He had no idea what would become of him if that death turned out to be Draco’s. Maybe then he’d be able to let himself die like he was supposed—
“Shit.,” Harry stopped flat in the hallway. His bones hurt. His muscles panged in a spiteful reminder of how he’d spent his morning. And the futility of this walk, this attempt to make everything right again—things that couldn’t be made right, he was in the middle of a fucking war—struck hollowly on his nerves. Doesn’t matter, his mind whispered. You’re not ever going to see the rewards of such a venture. Draco’s acquiescence to his orders stabbed into his ears as if the man were there in front of him, speaking the words again.
Fuck almighty, he wasn’t even with Draco anymore. Twenty minutes ago, he’d thought it the best morning he’d had in years. Funny how everything flipped on its head.
But he couldn’t let him go. Everything inside was screaming against it, knowing that to open that door was to let Draco… “No.” He clamped down on the thought, hard. He wasn’t going there. Fuck Moody’s bitter little vengeances.
He had a whole tirade of things to rail against when he at last slung open Luna’s door. But when he saw her, dressed in rose pink and looking curiously toward him, the impetus left him so quickly he shuddered. He came to a stop just over the threshold and drew a painful breath. “Luna,” he managed, “don’t let anyone out of the castle. Please.”
She blinked slowly, and it was only then that he saw how vague her eyes really were. Their depths seemed clouded, the usual light turned inward. Is someone leaving?
“Draco,” Harry said, then feared the use of the name, the tumbling of a secret. But Luna just guided her fingers over the strings of her harp. Very sluggishly, actually. The tune was distorted.
Oh. Yes. I know all about that. Two solid, isolated notes. You should keep him closer, Harry. Always letting him get away from you.
Harry blushed. Did she see it all, or could she hear it? There was no telling what she knew and what she didn’t know. Harry recalled the slide of Draco’s hands down his chest and stomach, then lower, then a mouth. He shook his head, too unsettled by the thought of Luna having ‘witnessed’ it.
“Luna, I’m…” Oh, what to say? Please don’t let my clandestine lover out into the chaos because I’m not ready to let him go? “I’m not ready to do anything,” he muttered.
Ready? She sounded far off, reedier than usual. I don’t think being ready matters.
Wasn’t that the truth. Voldemort waited for no one. But it wasn’t what Harry meant, and it only exacerbated the problem. He wasn’t ready to bind himself away from the one person he did want, and he sure as all hells wasn’t ready to force the bond on that person when he couldn’t figure out another way for it to end. Time was what he needed: time to explain himself to Ginny, time to fix whatever it was that let Draco get away from him, as Luna put it. Hells, time to find an alternative to this damnable bond. And all the while, time was ticking away, Blaise was finishing his task, and Voldemort was drawing ever closer to forcing Harry’s hand. Then the bond would not only be necessary, it would be the only fucking thing the Order had left to throw at the Dark Lord. The only thing he had left. “Luna, what do I do? Gods, what do I…”
Her face swung slowly around to him again, and Harry’s voice died. He watched her slackened expression, the slow-motion blink of her great eyes. He looked at her hands and saw that they hung limply at her wrists, bobbing up and down to pluck each dragging note, and then falling again. The song droned on. Harry frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Wrong? Luna cocked her head to one side, but her eyes remained distant. She stared at the wall behind Harry. There’s nothing wrong, really. It’s just that I’ve never had eyes that could do this.
It was amazing how little it took to jog his mind off his own problems. Perhaps he was too willing to push them aside. “You’re looking? Luna—”
It’s fascinating, Harry. I can see everything. Like a little bird, with its tail caught on the turret, spinning round and round... She pointed upward with one finger and turned to him with another vague smile. I’m sorry. My music must sound very odd.
“You…” Harry licked his lips, heart pounding. “How long?”
I woke this morning and thought, yes, I think I shall today, she said. The hint of a grin crinkled the corners of her eyes. I’ve no idea why I haven’t done this before. It’s so very easy.
Harry looked up at the vaulted ceiling, and then down again at his friend. She was not seeing him, it was obvious now. Her song fluctuated strangely. “What about the castle? Are the wards alright?”
Luna tilted her head thoughtfully, but the movement was disconcertingly slow. I don’t believe I’ll let anyone leave just now. I don’t fancy opening doors left and right. Like falling asleep in the middle of a Quidditch pitch, I should think.
So she was vulnerable, to some extent. And so were they. Harry pressed his fingers to his forehead, unsure whether to feel relief, fear, or vengeful satisfaction. Let Moody make what he would of this. “Luna, can you see Seamus?”
No, she said wonderingly, and then nothing more. She trilled two strings on her harp and the effect was the ominous ticking of a clock. Harry nodded unsteadily. The comfort of her current actions, while fleeting, was disappearing, leaving him with the same problems, save the one involving Draco’s imminent departure. What did he expect, that Seamus’ miraculous retrieval would set everything to rights? Harry would be right back where he’d started, watching his mortality swing up to meet him like a pendulum. Luna had her own problems, and here he was, burdening her with his. Harry rubbed his hands over his forearms and nodded again. “Alright.”
He got three steps back toward the door when Luna spoke.
You’ve changed your mind, then.
Harry stopped, hands helpless at his sides, hovering between flushing and speaking. Finally he got his mouth to work. “About what?”
This time her foggy eyes swivelled with a detached exasperation. Him.
Harry straightened. He let the room fill with discordant music again, and then spoke. “There was never anything to change,” he said quietly.
Oh. Luna blinked. Her eyes grew even cloudier. Almost white; the original blue glowed under the film like an afterimage. It was so eerie. Shouldn’t it be him, though? she asked curiously. Frankly. In the manner only Luna could manage.
Harry shut his eyes. It was like staring at a dead body, one that strummed at a harp and sat straight up, and spoke difficult and all-too-simple questions into his head. “Yes.”
She nodded once. Twice. Kept nodding, her head were bobbing on an axis. Harry grimaced, reading certainty in her face where perhaps there was none, but… “I can’t. I can’t make him do that. I can’t make any of them do it. Not when it means I end up leaving them alone.”
Luna’s face had sobered in some small way. I would not want to be asked, she reasoned. I would not like my future.
It struck Harry as incredibly funny. He snorted. “You wouldn’t like your future? Luna.”
Oh, but I chose this, she said. I think knowing in advance was a good thing in my case.
Merlin, what would she be when the spell ended? If the spell ended. He pictured Luna unable to speak, a withered wisp of the woman she’d been, every year for the rest of her life. His stomach hurt worse than ever. “Then you know I can’t make them choose the future I have to offer,” Harry whispered.
You can ask. Luna shrugged. Again, a stilted echo of a familiar movement. She turned a wide, watery smile his way. It never hurts to ask.
It was so simple to her. One step at a time. Why couldn’t he think like that? Instead he kept seeing the ending and everything leading up to it. A troubling number of those steps had his name on them, his voice behind them. And they all led to a place he didn’t want to go. He’d been successfully fighting it since he’d first known how things would turn out. For moments at a time, he thought he’d gotten used to the idea. But it was foolish: no one could ever get used to such an outcome.
They were all on borrowed time. He was nothing special. It just felt so immediate.
You should go and find him, Luna said. He’s happier with you.
Harry blushed. “Luna—”
You are happier too.
“No,” he said shortly. “I’m—No. I’ve made an absolute mess of this. Luna, what about Ginny?” He rubbed his face and thought about the hope in Ginny’s eyes, and the fact that it stirred nothing within him anymore. She’d been so willing, and he’d bollocksed it all up for a couple nights spent where he yearned to be forever, and for what? To fuck everything up with some well-placed words and a similarity to someone else? He wanted Draco, but couldn’t seem to keep hold of him. He had to bond, but he couldn’t ask it of the person he wanted to bond with.
It’s alright to be happy. People think they shouldn’t be, during a war, but they really should. You could be very happy with the right—
Luna stopped. Her head turned sideways as though listening. The index finger of her right hand halted on a single string and strummed it over and over and over.
Harry…
A very peculiar expression passed over her face. But a second later, what it turned into shocked Harry to his core. Luna’s hands abandoned the harp and reached for him, fingers curling. Darting back. She blinked rapidly, her head twitching. Harry lunged, snatching at one of her hands. “Luna.”
Found him.
He held her hand tightly, feeling a strange tremble in it. Her fingers clenched and plucked at the air. He pressed her hand hurriedly back to the harp’s strings, uncertain what to do. “Who? Seamus?”
She nodded erratically, eyes unfocussed and aimed at the floor some ways in front of her. Her mouth opened, but the sound that issued from it broke across the note. Harry looked around, waiting for some sign of falling wards, of… something, and in that instant, Luna’s fingers dug hard and fast into his flesh. She stared straight at him, eyes watering.
I’ve found him, I’ve… he’s… Them. Two? Oh, Harry, Harry, I can’t see…
Harry lurched to his feet, his hand still clenched in hers, and craned as far toward the open door as he could. “Moody! Moody, get in here!”
Seamus? Luna whispered. Oh… close…
Harry struggled to extricate his hand, thinking of Sonorus, thinking of the damage further magic might do to the wards and to Luna. But she would not let go. She clung onto his hand, and finally he fell back to his knees and grabbed for her shoulders, shaking her once. “Luna! Luna, stop, look at me.”
She did. He could see her attention being yanked back across a void he couldn’t begin to understand. Harry grabbed her free hand, ignoring the agony of her nails as they dug into his wrist, and placed it on the abandoned harp. For an instant, her fingers shuddered. Then they began to pluck. Weak notes filled the air once more.
The wards wavered.
“It’s Seamus?” he asked. Luna nodded.
Injured. Harry, he’s… They.
And then it hit him. Seamus was with Blaise.
A thousand thoughts: Why should Luna have such trouble distinguishing, why was this arrival different, where in fuck had they come from that she hadn’t felt their approach? He asked none of them.
Footsteps skidded down the corridor and Oliver barrelled into the room. He ran to Luna’s side and dropped hard onto the floor by at her chair, sliding to a stop. “Luna, what the hell is going on?”
Harry could hear others running in the hallways, calling to each other, yelling about wands and wards. Luna paid no attention. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she leaned into her chair, the fingers of one hand still jerking intermittently at the harp strings.
I’m letting them in.
Harry felt the wards begin to drop, folding down layer by layer. It was all wrong, everything felt wrong this time. Harry’s stomach lurched. Something in the castle shimmied violently. He pulled with all his might and finally succeeded in freeing his hand from Luna’s grip. He closed one of Oliver’s hands over hers and squeezed his arm hard until the other man turned to face him.
“Hold her. Whatever you do, don’t let her stop playing!”
He didn’t give Oliver time to nod. He was already on his feet.
...
Chapter 21
Title: The Road (20/?)
Author:
rurounihimeRating: hard R when all is said and done…
Pairing: H/D eventually
Summary: In the midst of a disintegrating war, Harry awaits the arrival of the Order’s last hope.
Warning: violence, character death, spoilers for all seven books. This fic is now AU because of Deathly Hallows. And at the risk of much silliness, I now discover that there are apparently DH spoilers in this story from the beginning. O.o
Disclaimer: The HP characters and most of the spellwork do not belong to me.
A/N: Thank you to April for her fabulous and attentive beta-ing, and to Coffee for constantly letting me bounce ideas off of her. The other major pairing in this is Blaise/Seamus, but there are minor het pairings as well.
…
No artwork or music for this chapter.
…
**ETA: THIS CHAPTER HAS RECEIVED ITS FINAL EDIT**
Previous chapters
Chapter 20: The Trials and Tribulations of Harry Potter
The knock at his door late the next morning was soft. Harry nearly missed it in the swell of Luna’s song. He stood slowly. It could be anyone. Merlin knew the possibilities were growing with every person who drifted into the castle. But something warned him of the presence on the other side of the door.
When he opened it, there was no surprise at seeing straight blond hair, pale skin and deep-water eyes churning different flecks of grey.
* * *
With a strength born of adrenaline, Harry lifted Draco and settled him back against the head of the bed. Draco’s mouth was all over his face and throat, leaving hot patches that stung in the room’s cooler air. Harry gripped Draco’s naked hips and thrust into him, and Draco arched. His legs wrapped vice-like around Harry’s waist. Harry slid his hand under one thigh and held him up. Held him close. Fingernails dug into his back.
It felt damned good to be inside Draco again, like a taste he hadn’t been able to catch as it evaded the tip of his tongue. He suddenly found it full-bodied, all over the inside of his mouth, with barely time to exhale his relief, to start at the shock of having it before it slipped away again. He reached between them, nudging his fingers against Draco’s soft belly and sliding down, wrapping his hand tightly around him, and feeling the wordless, desperate sounds Draco made. Draco’s entire body hitched against him. Harry could feel all five of his fingertips digging into his side.
It always seemed to come so fast with Draco. Over so quickly. Harry had found over the past few days that he couldn’t hold himself back, and it was something he was… not quite relieved about, but in the same family, whenever Draco came just as quickly as he did, shaking and knocking his head against the wall or the mattress, or the wooden bed frame. Eyes rolling up, guarded with fluttering, ashy lashes. Harry had watched it each previous time in rapidly disintegrating silence, moving more raggedly, barely seeing the final, full jerk of Draco’s body before his own climax took him and he couldn’t see much of anything anymore.
This time Harry tugged Draco down to the sheets, flat across the bed at all the wrong angles, intent upon the peak he knew was coming. His own foot hung over the edge, toes cold, Draco’s legs a tensing twist around his sides and his abdomen taut with the effort of raising his hips off the mattress. Harry found his mouth, his tongue, even a vocal sigh at the contact. He pulled back to breathe, just touching Draco’s lips with his own as they moved, air rushing in hot, uneven gusts between them.
But Draco went oddly limp just as Harry stroked over the thin scar running up his side. Harry could still feel Draco’s arousal with his other hand. But the man himself had ceased to move.
Harry curled his fingers gently through the soft, sweaty blond hair beneath them. The roiling heat that had been building in his abdomen began to fade back. “What’s wrong?” he gasped.
“You’re going to do it anyway.” Draco’s voice was devoid of emotion, as though he couldn’t find the energy.
“What?”
Draco swallowed and turned his head. “Weasley, Potter. For fuck’s sake.”
It took Harry a minute to sort out the jumble. He wasn’t ready, or prepared, to talk about Ginny Weasley. His reasons for evading it seemed shameful, but it felt like one thing he could avoid. One thing in all this mess that wasn’t careening toward him quite as fast as everything else. “Don’t,” he whispered. He feared saying any more for what might come out on top of it.
In an instant, Draco was struggling, body still surrounding Harry but trying to gain distance. Harry grabbed his hips instinctively, clenching his eyes shut at the discomfort. Draco halted, shivering, and Harry made a sudden decision, not lifting, not drawing back, but holding Draco firmly where he was. Draco’s fingers curled into a fist against his flesh.
“Let me go, Potter,” he said in a low voice.
Harry gave himself a single breath. And then he let go.
But Draco didn’t move any further. It was as though he’d lost the will to follow through. Or maybe—Harry peered at him sharply, at his flushed face and kiss-reddened mouth. Draco’s eyes slid shut, and for just a moment, his body clenched around Harry.
“Please don’t,” Harry murmured, not sure where the words were coming from, but suddenly certain that Draco didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to part them just yet. He stroked a palm down Draco’s sweat-slick chest, desperate to memorise each arc and hollow in case they should be taken from him.
Draco’s eyelids fluttered. And then snapped open. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he hissed, and pushed Harry’s hand off. His legs rose as if he would roll away. And then they dropped back. Harry took a chance, running both hands up Draco’s bare thighs and back down again soothingly. Up. Down. Draco made no move to stop him. Just stared up at him. His face glowed with the sheen of his exertions in the room’s light.
“Would it make any difference if I said I don’t want to do it?” Harry asked quietly.
Draco’s expression hardened. Harry felt a momentary surge of nostalgia at the sight, but it was only an echo of the strength Draco had once possessed. Gods, three short years were all it took to drain this man of his vitality. Harry wondered, not for the first time, how he himself looked to everyone else. Had he lost any recognisable lustre or was he the same person they’d always seen? How many of them ever really saw the real him anyway?
How many times did he let any of them see?
“Just fulfilling your bloody duty to the cause then, are you?” Draco’s fingers tightened around Harry’s wrist to the threshold of pain. “That’s so magnanimous of you. Let me be the first to thank you.”
Harry shook his head. “You think this is about being a martyr? This whole thing? Fuck.”
“I respond to what I see, Potter,” Draco rejoined immediately, lifting his head off the sheets. He resembled a snake, lithe and gorgeous. Spitting angry in a mortal flash. “I suppose this is all part of it.” He gestured, a furious sweep of one hand, and Harry’s irritation flared. He sat back and Draco winced slightly at the movement.
“You’re the one who came back here,” Harry retorted.
Draco’s expression rolled through several emotions, and Harry’s anger compounded, twining into something he couldn’t decipher. He inhaled sharply. Draco’s legs were a close, heavy heat around him.
“Draco.” He hesitated for one more second, then leaned slowly back over Draco. Draco’s eyes narrowed. His legs bent, sliding higher up Harry’s hips. Harry knew he was feeling the movement inside as well, saw it pass over Draco’s face in a strange sort of shiver. Draco’s cheeks flushed so gradually Harry couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began. He braced himself on his arms, a hand either side of Draco’s head, and shifted his legs closer against Draco one at a time. Draco shuddered bodily, his eyes fixed on Harry’s.
Harry flexed his hips forward gently. Steadily. Draco’s hands tensed around handfuls of sheet. His head fell loosely back to the bed, and the burning in Harry’s belly flickered up out of the depths.
“Harry—”
He heard his name on the next thrust, and he just knew Draco hadn’t meant to say it. But the look on his face, open and helpless, told Harry that Draco didn’t care. Or didn’t know he’d spoken. He kissed the slope of Draco’s throat, and his lover’s head fell to the side, baring a pale expanse that tasted of salt. Harry gave in and sucked on his skin, light, sweet presses of his mouth. Getting harder to control. He exhaled harshly against Draco’s throat and felt the moan ripple beneath his lips. It came out as a weak gasp just at his ear.
“There are a lot of things I don’t want,” Harry managed. Draco’s hands climbed over his shoulders and clutched there, fingers tightening as he spoke. “This…” He almost shied away from speaking it aloud. “…isn’t one of them.”
“Merlin, Harry—”
He kissed Draco into silence, and drew out of it slowly, feeling Draco’s panted breaths rush over his face. His own body was beginning to shake; he was closer than he thought, always so much closer than he ever thought. Harry forced himself to stop moving and nearly broke his resolve immediately as Draco lifted his hips to meet him.
He meant to explain himself, clarify why he couldn’t feel good about any of this, or ask why Draco was here at all. Why he was with Harry after everything that had happened. After everything Harry had done. What came out was, “Please tell me what you want.” Choked, well over the edge into desperate.
Draco’s eyes widened. He stared up at Harry, naked thighs quivering heedlessly at Harry’s waist. His body was almost too hot.
And then his legs dropped. He reached up and flattened a palm against Harry’s chest. “I—What in hell is this, Potter?”
Harry remained silent, sensing the razor edge and not knowing how he’d gotten there so quickly. Draco’s jaw tightened. His eyes darted over Harry’s face, down his body as though searching. He let out a harsh exhalation. “Doesn’t fucking matter. I never get what I want.”
Harry felt the pressure against his chest, but he didn’t move back, and Draco hovered on the edge of pushing him away.
“What do you care what I want?” Draco spat suddenly. “We all have our duties, don’t we?”
Harry frowned, and Draco went the final inch and pushed him off. Out. The loss of contact was sharper than he was prepared for. He knelt between Draco’s knees, staring down at him. “We’re in a war, Draco,” he said. “Duty is necessary. It’s become more important than anything else.”
“Are you even in love with her, Potter?”
Fear frothed in the pit of his stomach like an angry sea. Harry pulled back, jerking a hand through his hair. He got off the bed. “You don’t have any idea…”
“Fuck.” Draco rose, too, snatching his shirt from the floor.
“There are things you don’t know, Draco,” Harry said warningly.
“There always are,” Draco replied, his voice shaking, and it wasn’t arousal or sorrow this time, but anger. He thrust his arm into one sleeve, pulled the other one on, and yanked the shirt into place so fiercely that Harry expected it to rip. Draco bent and grabbed his trousers, but then just stood there, naked from the waist down and shining with sweat, his last article of clothing clutched in whitened fingers. He thrust a hand out at Harry. “Just once, I wish I didn’t care, you know?”
“What do you want me to do, then?” Harry snapped. “You want me to just sit here? Not do everything in my power to stop that fucking bastard from ruining the whatever’s left? He’s already blighted the entire world! I can stop him, do you understand me? I can. Fuck if I’m just going to hide in here and not use what I have. I can’t let anyone else die!”
“Oh, yes,” Draco seethed, “your precious bond. I know all about it. Weasley isn’t exactly tight-lipped when she’s gloating.”
“You know, I don’t even know if it will work. I don’t know if it can work anymore, not when I’m in—” He stopped, appalled at how close he’d come to complicating everything. But he might as well have said the rest. He knew it at any rate; he wasn’t in love with Ginny. But that would hardly matter to the bond, would it? Love, while a catalyst for the more fiery components, was not exclusively necessary. Or so Dumbledore had believed. So all the books had said. There were other strengths they could get out of such a union.
Gods, he had to speak to Ginny. It was all rolling over him, sliding through kinks he’d not been vigilant enough to close. He sank down onto the bed again. He had to make it clear for her, as clear as it was for him. Had to define this bond, whatever it was, and whatever it was on the way to becoming. What sort of future she had to look forward to, once it was done.
He wondered what she would say to it all.
He was out of options. They all were. It just felt wrong to drag her into something he himself didn’t want, and as for the person he did want—
Bloody hell. He had no right to ask that of him. He’d asked too much already.
“What do you want me to do?” It heaved inside of him, the answer he both wanted and didn’t want, and suddenly he couldn’t keep silent. “Choose someone else?”
But as soon as he said it, he saw that it had always been there. The strange emptying of Draco’s face showed him where both of their thoughts lay, nights and days of shared heat building upon itself. The unspoken was not voiceless at all, and the alternative for the bond hung obviously before them both. Draco swallowed, his throat rippling arrestingly.
“Would you do it?”
It’s not about what I would do, Harry wanted to shout. There was no point in asking what he would do. So many things, so very many things. The first thing would be to live a life that didn’t belong to everyone else. The second would be to cease taking that which was not his to take.
But the third desire, he still might achieve if he held on tightly enough: to pass through whatever life he had left as fluidly as possible, without dragging others into the depths when his time to sink finally arrived. He’d never felt it so near before, a giant rock on the rim of sight.
He’d known what was expected of him for years. But his own death had never felt so real.
Magic had rules that a mere human being could never hope to break. A random prophecy turned into truth by an overzealous and terrified wizard had been more than enough, Harry’d thought. But to have it manifest as it eventually had… Exactly how random were prophecies, really? It was beside the point, now; Dumbledore had said as much, many times, every time Harry had needed to hear it, to stiffen his resolve. It was just… hard, knowing death was most definitely in the cards now.
It was one thing to kill Voldemort. As ugly a deed as that might be, Harry had no doubt that he’d find the incentive. Especially now, with the world half gone.
But… kill himself? He was beginning to think he might not be strong enough to see it through. And what would the Wizarding world do then, when its own saviour couldn’t summon to courage to do what was necessary?
Draco was glaring at him, hand tight around the waistband of his trousers. Harry wanted nothing more than to grab hold of him, pull them together again, relieve him of that damned sadness just behind his eyes, of the incredible loss that had been visited upon him. This bloody, fucking war had done it, and it was Harry’s war, wasn’t it? Even as a baby with absolutely no control, it had been his war, and it was scything through the people he loved one by one.
And now Draco. I want to be enough for you, Harry thought. The idea was a fearful yearning in his chest, like being thirsty and bleeding and sick and well all at the same time. I cannot pave the way for your death, too. Not yours.
“I can’t have what I want either,” Harry whispered. “Especially not…”
He heard the intake of a breath. Then another.
“Are you saying you want me?” It came out very quickly, as though Draco had flung it out against his will. Harry raised his eyes and found Draco looking back. His face was a worn wall, barely holding against whatever lay behind it. Every word of substance left Harry, as they always did. And this… Well. There was no way to answer this question. Not without putting it all out there, things even he couldn’t face. The anger boiled up.
“What are you saying, exactly?” he bit out.
The pause was much too long. Draco’s shoulders heaved.
“One of us has to give it up sometime, Potter.”
Harry held it off for a final beat of his heart and then lurched forward, throwing his hands up. He was gratified to see Draco flinch back at the movement. “Fine. Fine, Malfoy, here it is. I have nothing to offer you. Is that what you’re looking for? I have nothing to offer you. Nothing you can use, at any rate. Nothing worth offering!”
Draco countered his motion, chin jutting out, hands clenched into pale fists. “For fuck’s sake, you’re going to be the judge of what’s worth it to me? Still the same righteous, selfish—”
“The price will be too high!” Harry shouted, and Draco fell silent.
Harry’s body was vibrating, he was so tense. He drew an unsteady breath, furious at where the conversation was going. Not yet. Not here, and not yet.
“It’s too high, Draco,” he muttered. Bonds made and then snapped. Made with the intention to snap them later. He couldn’t look at Draco anymore and looked at the floor instead. His legs felt weak. “And yes, I am going to be the judge this time.”
There, right in front of his eyes, were his crumpled trousers in a heap on the floor. The heat rushed up his body. Merlin. He couldn’t breathe without thinking about Draco, what Draco felt like. Couldn’t even push him away without enjoying the contact.
“You are a selfish prick.” Draco’s voice held an ache that surprised Harry. Almost a keening quality to it. Or maybe that was Harry keening.
Harry shook his head. “Then that’s what I am. And that’s what the bond is, and that’s what my duty is. I’m not allowing the luxury of choice anymore. Every time I do, I get someone killed.”
“So big of you,” Draco lashed back. “Always something getting in the way. Tell me, Harry, if it’s so important to you, then why not with someone else? If that’s what you want so badly.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, don’t you see? It’s never mattered what I want! It has to be her. I don’t know why, and I don’t understand it, but Dumbledore was very clear about his choice.”
“Dumbledore?” Draco cried incredulously. “Dumbledore decided—”
“I have to do what will get the job done! I have to…” He faded out, took a deep breath. There are things coming that you can’t fathom. “I won’t push the price any higher. For anyone.”
“What are you talking about?” Draco whispered.
“I’m talking about why it can’t be you!” Harry shouted, stating the unspoken at last. “It can’t. I’m not going to let it happen.”
Draco’s face went white. He stood in front of Harry, eyes beyond injured, falling toward fury. Harry had never expected his statement to cut so deeply. He had no idea why it shouldn’t; everything about this made a warped sort of sense. But actually seeing it on Draco’s face—loss all over again, that perfect mouth twisting, the mouth he’d kissed and breathed into, the body that he’d touched now completely rigid and trembling—It hurt so much worse.
“Draco.” he tried. His mouth felt so dry.
But Draco spoke first. “Then you’ll be happy to know I won’t be around to get in your way.”
Harry blinked. “What?”
“I’m leaving, Potter.” Draco wasn’t looking at Harry anymore. His fingers made knots of his trouser fabric as he struggled to turn them right-side-in. “I’ve got my orders, and I’ll be gone in a few hours.”
Harry didn’t even have to think. He pushed off the bed, not caring how bare he was or how futile it might be to grab for Draco. “What?”
Draco snapped his head up, halting Harry’s reaching arm abruptly. Grey eyes skipped over his body and something flickered, painful and denied. Then it was gone. “Moody,” he said. It came out like a curse.
“Draco,” Harry hissed. But Draco turned easily out of his reach and tugged his trousers up, hiding those pale hips from sight. Harry’s chest ached fiercely and suddenly at the loss. Had Draco come here because he knew he would soon be sent away? Harry snatched for his arm again, and Draco backed away, fumbling the bottom two buttons of his shirt. He wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes, but Harry could see that Draco’s were dull, too glittery around the edges.
“Fucking hell, Draco, what did he tell you to do?”
Draco said nothing. His hair was a tangled mess, full of light and the damp of sweat. His hands ceased their relentless adjusting and fell to his sides. He glanced up once, as though he couldn’t help himself.
It came to Harry then, what was really going on. He scrambled for his clothes with such intent that they jumped off the floor to meet his reaching hand.
“No,” he growled. Draco moved and Harry spun on him, hand slicing through the air. “Stay here.”
Draco stared at him, eyes both empty and full. Muted outrage was there, but it was secondary to the hopelessness. Harry’s chest burst into an angry fire. He yanked his shirt on, then turned and gripped Draco’s arms with both hands. “Do not leave this room. I’ll be back.”
Draco didn’t answer.
Fuck. Fucking, fucking hell. Harry pulled his trousers on. His dresser was rattling, jumping and scraping against the wall, and he could barely see through the red in his eyes. He strode out of his room, not looking at Draco again, slamming the door much too hard.
They had the ability to search for outsiders at their fingertips and Moody wanted to shove Draco back out into the war, on a bleak mission to find someone he had no way of locating, short of using magic. Which was the point, Harry was sure.
It took him several minutes to reach Moody’s chambers. He shoved through the door without knocking. “You told Malfoy to go.”
Moody looked up from the parchments that were unrolled across the tabletop. He glowered at Harry with his good eye. The other swung back and forth, scanning the room. “You want Finnigan back, Potter?”
Harry bit his cheek to keep from lashing out. “Of course I do. But not at the expense of someone else!”
“This is war. When are you going to learn that there’s always some sort of ‘expense’?”
Harry stalked forward. “I thought we agreed that—”
Moody slashed a gnarled hand through the air, cutting off his words. “We didn’t agree. You ordered, Potter. Kingsley and I came to a different conclusion.”
“Kingsley decided this, did he?”
Moody frowned at him and bent back over his parchments. Maps, older ones. It was all they had left. And Harry couldn’t find it in himself to care. He set his hands flat on the table and leaned in. Moody raised his head, stared at him with both eyes.
“I’m asking you to order him to stay,” Harry said.
Moody scowled at Harry. “You can’t control the entire war, Potter. Malfoy has duties elsewhere.”
It was becoming habit, forcing himself to remain calm, but that didn’t make it any easier. “What, he hasn’t done enough? He’s fulfilled his ‘duties.’ For Godric’s sake, Moody—”
The older man spun on him, lurching forward on his uneven limbs. “Have you forgotten already? The war’s not going to wait until it’s convenient for us. He’s going.”
Harry threw a hand out toward the door, his stomach beginning to roll and clutch. “He’s in danger! If he leaves, they’ll find him and kill him.”
“Probably what they’re doing to Finnigan right now,” Moody snapped. “You were all so keen on getting him back yesterday. You’d rather I sent out Weasley? Or you? Don’t be an idiot, Potter.”
A year ago, Harry would never have been able to stare Alastor Moody down. Now it was too simple, considering what was at stake. “This isn’t about the job and you bloody well know it.”
Moody’s beady eye narrowed fiercely. “Just what are you insinuating, Potter?”
“You know damn well what I’m saying,” Harry snarled. Moody’s jaw tightened, but Harry’d had more than enough. The whole damn day was spiralling on him. He could still feel the heat of Draco around him, the slide and the salt on his lips. And now, there was the horrid feeling that despite his request, Draco was no longer in his bedroom. He just knew it, as if he’d watched Draco finish dressing and pull open the door. Far away, and getting further. The candelabra on Moody’s bookshelf began to vibrate, clattering closer to the edge.
“He’s not leaving,” Harry ground out. “I’ll make sure of it.”
When Moody said nothing in return, Harry turned and went right out the door. He strode down the hall in a red haze, heading for Luna’s chamber.
She’d as much as said she would look, that it would be little trouble. Luna was many things, but she was not a liar, not to make anyone happy or to suit any ulterior purpose. Harry was no fool: he knew her wards would be strained. He also knew it was the safer option. Until they exhausted it, it was ludicrous to send anyone out after Seamus. He didn’t need another death on his head.
He had no idea what would become of him if that death turned out to be Draco’s. Maybe then he’d be able to let himself die like he was supposed—
“Shit.,” Harry stopped flat in the hallway. His bones hurt. His muscles panged in a spiteful reminder of how he’d spent his morning. And the futility of this walk, this attempt to make everything right again—things that couldn’t be made right, he was in the middle of a fucking war—struck hollowly on his nerves. Doesn’t matter, his mind whispered. You’re not ever going to see the rewards of such a venture. Draco’s acquiescence to his orders stabbed into his ears as if the man were there in front of him, speaking the words again.
Fuck almighty, he wasn’t even with Draco anymore. Twenty minutes ago, he’d thought it the best morning he’d had in years. Funny how everything flipped on its head.
But he couldn’t let him go. Everything inside was screaming against it, knowing that to open that door was to let Draco… “No.” He clamped down on the thought, hard. He wasn’t going there. Fuck Moody’s bitter little vengeances.
He had a whole tirade of things to rail against when he at last slung open Luna’s door. But when he saw her, dressed in rose pink and looking curiously toward him, the impetus left him so quickly he shuddered. He came to a stop just over the threshold and drew a painful breath. “Luna,” he managed, “don’t let anyone out of the castle. Please.”
She blinked slowly, and it was only then that he saw how vague her eyes really were. Their depths seemed clouded, the usual light turned inward. Is someone leaving?
“Draco,” Harry said, then feared the use of the name, the tumbling of a secret. But Luna just guided her fingers over the strings of her harp. Very sluggishly, actually. The tune was distorted.
Oh. Yes. I know all about that. Two solid, isolated notes. You should keep him closer, Harry. Always letting him get away from you.
Harry blushed. Did she see it all, or could she hear it? There was no telling what she knew and what she didn’t know. Harry recalled the slide of Draco’s hands down his chest and stomach, then lower, then a mouth. He shook his head, too unsettled by the thought of Luna having ‘witnessed’ it.
“Luna, I’m…” Oh, what to say? Please don’t let my clandestine lover out into the chaos because I’m not ready to let him go? “I’m not ready to do anything,” he muttered.
Ready? She sounded far off, reedier than usual. I don’t think being ready matters.
Wasn’t that the truth. Voldemort waited for no one. But it wasn’t what Harry meant, and it only exacerbated the problem. He wasn’t ready to bind himself away from the one person he did want, and he sure as all hells wasn’t ready to force the bond on that person when he couldn’t figure out another way for it to end. Time was what he needed: time to explain himself to Ginny, time to fix whatever it was that let Draco get away from him, as Luna put it. Hells, time to find an alternative to this damnable bond. And all the while, time was ticking away, Blaise was finishing his task, and Voldemort was drawing ever closer to forcing Harry’s hand. Then the bond would not only be necessary, it would be the only fucking thing the Order had left to throw at the Dark Lord. The only thing he had left. “Luna, what do I do? Gods, what do I…”
Her face swung slowly around to him again, and Harry’s voice died. He watched her slackened expression, the slow-motion blink of her great eyes. He looked at her hands and saw that they hung limply at her wrists, bobbing up and down to pluck each dragging note, and then falling again. The song droned on. Harry frowned. “What’s wrong?”
Wrong? Luna cocked her head to one side, but her eyes remained distant. She stared at the wall behind Harry. There’s nothing wrong, really. It’s just that I’ve never had eyes that could do this.
It was amazing how little it took to jog his mind off his own problems. Perhaps he was too willing to push them aside. “You’re looking? Luna—”
It’s fascinating, Harry. I can see everything. Like a little bird, with its tail caught on the turret, spinning round and round... She pointed upward with one finger and turned to him with another vague smile. I’m sorry. My music must sound very odd.
“You…” Harry licked his lips, heart pounding. “How long?”
I woke this morning and thought, yes, I think I shall today, she said. The hint of a grin crinkled the corners of her eyes. I’ve no idea why I haven’t done this before. It’s so very easy.
Harry looked up at the vaulted ceiling, and then down again at his friend. She was not seeing him, it was obvious now. Her song fluctuated strangely. “What about the castle? Are the wards alright?”
Luna tilted her head thoughtfully, but the movement was disconcertingly slow. I don’t believe I’ll let anyone leave just now. I don’t fancy opening doors left and right. Like falling asleep in the middle of a Quidditch pitch, I should think.
So she was vulnerable, to some extent. And so were they. Harry pressed his fingers to his forehead, unsure whether to feel relief, fear, or vengeful satisfaction. Let Moody make what he would of this. “Luna, can you see Seamus?”
No, she said wonderingly, and then nothing more. She trilled two strings on her harp and the effect was the ominous ticking of a clock. Harry nodded unsteadily. The comfort of her current actions, while fleeting, was disappearing, leaving him with the same problems, save the one involving Draco’s imminent departure. What did he expect, that Seamus’ miraculous retrieval would set everything to rights? Harry would be right back where he’d started, watching his mortality swing up to meet him like a pendulum. Luna had her own problems, and here he was, burdening her with his. Harry rubbed his hands over his forearms and nodded again. “Alright.”
He got three steps back toward the door when Luna spoke.
You’ve changed your mind, then.
Harry stopped, hands helpless at his sides, hovering between flushing and speaking. Finally he got his mouth to work. “About what?”
This time her foggy eyes swivelled with a detached exasperation. Him.
Harry straightened. He let the room fill with discordant music again, and then spoke. “There was never anything to change,” he said quietly.
Oh. Luna blinked. Her eyes grew even cloudier. Almost white; the original blue glowed under the film like an afterimage. It was so eerie. Shouldn’t it be him, though? she asked curiously. Frankly. In the manner only Luna could manage.
Harry shut his eyes. It was like staring at a dead body, one that strummed at a harp and sat straight up, and spoke difficult and all-too-simple questions into his head. “Yes.”
She nodded once. Twice. Kept nodding, her head were bobbing on an axis. Harry grimaced, reading certainty in her face where perhaps there was none, but… “I can’t. I can’t make him do that. I can’t make any of them do it. Not when it means I end up leaving them alone.”
Luna’s face had sobered in some small way. I would not want to be asked, she reasoned. I would not like my future.
It struck Harry as incredibly funny. He snorted. “You wouldn’t like your future? Luna.”
Oh, but I chose this, she said. I think knowing in advance was a good thing in my case.
Merlin, what would she be when the spell ended? If the spell ended. He pictured Luna unable to speak, a withered wisp of the woman she’d been, every year for the rest of her life. His stomach hurt worse than ever. “Then you know I can’t make them choose the future I have to offer,” Harry whispered.
You can ask. Luna shrugged. Again, a stilted echo of a familiar movement. She turned a wide, watery smile his way. It never hurts to ask.
It was so simple to her. One step at a time. Why couldn’t he think like that? Instead he kept seeing the ending and everything leading up to it. A troubling number of those steps had his name on them, his voice behind them. And they all led to a place he didn’t want to go. He’d been successfully fighting it since he’d first known how things would turn out. For moments at a time, he thought he’d gotten used to the idea. But it was foolish: no one could ever get used to such an outcome.
They were all on borrowed time. He was nothing special. It just felt so immediate.
You should go and find him, Luna said. He’s happier with you.
Harry blushed. “Luna—”
You are happier too.
“No,” he said shortly. “I’m—No. I’ve made an absolute mess of this. Luna, what about Ginny?” He rubbed his face and thought about the hope in Ginny’s eyes, and the fact that it stirred nothing within him anymore. She’d been so willing, and he’d bollocksed it all up for a couple nights spent where he yearned to be forever, and for what? To fuck everything up with some well-placed words and a similarity to someone else? He wanted Draco, but couldn’t seem to keep hold of him. He had to bond, but he couldn’t ask it of the person he wanted to bond with.
It’s alright to be happy. People think they shouldn’t be, during a war, but they really should. You could be very happy with the right—
Luna stopped. Her head turned sideways as though listening. The index finger of her right hand halted on a single string and strummed it over and over and over.
Harry…
A very peculiar expression passed over her face. But a second later, what it turned into shocked Harry to his core. Luna’s hands abandoned the harp and reached for him, fingers curling. Darting back. She blinked rapidly, her head twitching. Harry lunged, snatching at one of her hands. “Luna.”
Found him.
He held her hand tightly, feeling a strange tremble in it. Her fingers clenched and plucked at the air. He pressed her hand hurriedly back to the harp’s strings, uncertain what to do. “Who? Seamus?”
She nodded erratically, eyes unfocussed and aimed at the floor some ways in front of her. Her mouth opened, but the sound that issued from it broke across the note. Harry looked around, waiting for some sign of falling wards, of… something, and in that instant, Luna’s fingers dug hard and fast into his flesh. She stared straight at him, eyes watering.
I’ve found him, I’ve… he’s… Them. Two? Oh, Harry, Harry, I can’t see…
Harry lurched to his feet, his hand still clenched in hers, and craned as far toward the open door as he could. “Moody! Moody, get in here!”
Seamus? Luna whispered. Oh… close…
Harry struggled to extricate his hand, thinking of Sonorus, thinking of the damage further magic might do to the wards and to Luna. But she would not let go. She clung onto his hand, and finally he fell back to his knees and grabbed for her shoulders, shaking her once. “Luna! Luna, stop, look at me.”
She did. He could see her attention being yanked back across a void he couldn’t begin to understand. Harry grabbed her free hand, ignoring the agony of her nails as they dug into his wrist, and placed it on the abandoned harp. For an instant, her fingers shuddered. Then they began to pluck. Weak notes filled the air once more.
The wards wavered.
“It’s Seamus?” he asked. Luna nodded.
Injured. Harry, he’s… They.
And then it hit him. Seamus was with Blaise.
A thousand thoughts: Why should Luna have such trouble distinguishing, why was this arrival different, where in fuck had they come from that she hadn’t felt their approach? He asked none of them.
Footsteps skidded down the corridor and Oliver barrelled into the room. He ran to Luna’s side and dropped hard onto the floor by at her chair, sliding to a stop. “Luna, what the hell is going on?”
Harry could hear others running in the hallways, calling to each other, yelling about wands and wards. Luna paid no attention. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she leaned into her chair, the fingers of one hand still jerking intermittently at the harp strings.
I’m letting them in.
Harry felt the wards begin to drop, folding down layer by layer. It was all wrong, everything felt wrong this time. Harry’s stomach lurched. Something in the castle shimmied violently. He pulled with all his might and finally succeeded in freeing his hand from Luna’s grip. He closed one of Oliver’s hands over hers and squeezed his arm hard until the other man turned to face him.
“Hold her. Whatever you do, don’t let her stop playing!”
He didn’t give Oliver time to nod. He was already on his feet.
...
Chapter 21
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 08:13 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:16 pm (UTC)From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 09:24 am (UTC)From:What the crispy crap is happening?!
Um, besides the freaking out over possible death and destruction, awesome chapter, especially now that answers are starting to make their slow, painful way out. It's always miscommunication with Draco and Harry, and I love the way you have them circle around what they really want to say. Thanks for sharing!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 04:30 pm (UTC)From:rotflmao
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 11:43 am (UTC)From:But the chapter is great. I hope Harry manages to bond with the right person!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:19 pm (UTC)From:Thank you so much for sticking with the story! ♥
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 03:43 pm (UTC)From:Superb chapter, I must say. I am begining to wonder what Ginny is thinking all this time. She knows they've slept together. Has she seen Harry recently or is she still sat with Fred?
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:21 pm (UTC)From:Heh, I definitely need to go back to Ginny soon. Girl must be yanking her hair out. She's seen both of them recently, during the talk with Hermione. But of course, she couldn't lash out then or the others would see it all. *ponders Ginny-lashing*
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 04:01 pm (UTC)From:I'm honouring the occasion with a new icon. Perhaps some H/D loveliness can tempt you to come out with a new chapter real soon? :)
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:24 pm (UTC)From:Heh, I have been looking forward to this as well. ^__^ It's about time one of them slapped the other upside the head and made him spill his inner turmoil.
I LOVE that you picked up on Draco's impending departure. I wasn't sure if that would come through until Draco stated it aloud, but I know people were worried over Moody's pondering and Ginny's outburst last chapter, so it's great to see that you picked up on that.
OOH lovely icon! *drools* Yummmm... ^______^ No worries, chapters coming very soon. Thank you for reading!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 04:27 pm (UTC)From:"One of us has to give it up sometime, Potter,"
!!!! Exactly! Just one of you tell the other already!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:25 pm (UTC)From:Hahahaha! A little bit of that, but more to come, for sure. Thank you so much for sticking with it, cliffies included. *loves*
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 04:28 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:26 pm (UTC)From:I love you for your comment on the building climax. It makes me feel so happy. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 04:28 pm (UTC)From:“Please tell me what you want.” It was choked, well over the edge into desperate.
“Doesn’t fucking matter. I never get what I want.”
Gods, these two...and they were so close to letting it all out, so close... and I love Harry confiding in Luna, and how eerie Luna has become and OMG Seamus/Blaise!! At one point I was chanting "oh no oh no oh no".
Awesome, awesome chapter.
*attempts to shove images of story from mind and move on with day*
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:29 pm (UTC)From:*glomps you* Wow, thank you! That's a WONDERFUL thing to say!
Eesh, things are building on several fronts... I am loving the response to Luna so far, and Seamus and Blaise are getting a lot of nail chewing going... Sorry to keep you in suspense for so long. Thank you so much for sticking with it, dear. I worship you for it.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 04:51 pm (UTC)From:Dear, GOD, what an emotional chapter! So freakin' well written! And GUH I cant wait till the next one!
SO MUCH LOVE <333
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:29 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 05:00 pm (UTC)From:::flails violently for the next chapter::
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:30 pm (UTC)From:Haha, thank you for sticking with it!
And I love your icon. ^_~
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 05:18 pm (UTC)From:And now you've got this horrible cliffhanger. I didn't completely understand the magic at the beginning and it totally confused me and now I find myself to wrapped up in it. Great chapter!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:33 pm (UTC)From:Oh, thank you! *is very happy right now* Thank you so much for this. I don't think they CAN let each other go, especially Draco, who knows he will be leaving at that point. I like to think it took Draco a monumental effort to finally detach himself from Harry and get up.
Thank you for sticking with it, despite the confusing magic. Anything in particular you would like more explanation for? ^__^
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 06:40 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:34 pm (UTC)From:More talking to come, including a rather BIG talk that I really have been waiting for impatiently. *laughs* It will be nice to reach that point in the story, finally.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 06:48 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:35 pm (UTC)From:Thank you for reading!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 07:10 pm (UTC)From:I found it interesting how Harry doesn't want Draco to get hurt because he potentially could if Harry dies when they are bonded yet he's willing to let Ginny bond with him (although of course he'd rather have no one bond with him- he wantd draco but he doesn't want him to be hurt even though he will be hurt anyway) God, this boy is a mess of contradictions, no wonder he's so miserable!!
Loved Luna, had a feeling that she was over stressing her powers. Should make the plot move along and force Harry into action. Obviously it's the bond that wacked up her ability to track the two!! (shows how powerful the bond is then eh?). God I hope he takes her advice, although that would be all too easy (with Harry running towards Seamus and Blaise at the end of the chapter I hope that Draco isn't under the impression he forgot about him or w/e)
I was a little upset that Harry didn't go back to his room in this segment to deal with Draco. This was probably because I find the story a little hard to follow in the chronogical sense (I really have only a very very very vague sense of just how long Ginny and Draco have been here) and with the updates sort of irregular I tend to forget the intensity of the situation in the last chapter or whatever.
And wow, this review was long, sorry about that! All in all it was wonderful as usual and I got goosebumps and teared up for the boys!! (so silly those boys! )
Kay
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:42 pm (UTC)From:*hums in an irritatingly vague manner* ^_~ I love hearing people's hypotheses.
I'm so happy you like Harry. I've been getting mixed reviews about him, and that was partly my fault because I insisted on keeping him mum about his issues until now. It's nice to get some of it out in the open, finally.
Loved Luna, had a feeling that she was over stressing her powers. Should make the plot move along and force Harry into action.
Hahahaha! *loves*
Obviously it's the bond that wacked up her ability to track the two!! (shows how powerful the bond is then eh?).
Hole in one. ^____^
I was a little upset that Harry didn't go back to his room in this segment to deal with Draco. This was probably because I find the story a little hard to follow in the chronogical sense (I really have only a very very very vague sense of just how long Ginny and Draco have been here) and with the updates sort of irregular I tend to forget the intensity of the situation in the last chapter or whatever.
I have a feeling this fic might be better read all at once in some respects... Sorry about that. As for chronology, it's only been a few days since they arrived at the castle. About five, if my count is correct. Feels like longer, doesn't it? *laughs wearily* They're all going to get gray hairs if they don't relax soon...
Thank you so much for such a long, wonderful review! I loved reading it. ♥
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 07:32 pm (UTC)From:Great chapter!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:43 pm (UTC)From:Thank you for reading!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:43 pm (UTC)From:♥
no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 12:13 am (UTC)From:I just love how Draco so unexpectedly appears at Harry's door and how this appearance foreshadows the revelation that Moody's ordered him away on a (suicide) mission. The whole scene beginning with the all-encompassing passion, descending to a morose depression, then progressing to the poignant refusal to let go (of each other)... it was, in a word, GAHHHH! I read that part twice and in my head I was thinking don'tletgodon'tletgodon'tletgo. And of course when they do let go and finally get to the heart of matters Harry/Draco, it's just so FUBAR that you want to cry.
The contrast of the complications Harry and Draco share with Luna's stoic simplicity is brilliant. I'm so worried about the "wrongness" Harry feels when the wards drop. It feels like we're getting closer to showtime. There was so much to love here, I'd be all day describing teh awesomeness. Suffice it to say, I await the next chapter on pins and needles.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:52 pm (UTC)From:The whole scene beginning with the all-encompassing passion, descending to a morose depression, then progressing to the poignant refusal to let go (of each other)... it was, in a word, GAHHHH!
Hahahaha! *hugs* Thank you so much not only for reading it, but for RE-reading it. That's so wonderful.
I'm so worried about the "wrongness" Harry feels when the wards drop. It feels like we're getting closer to showtime.
Yes. Oh, yes. Luna has most definitely overexerted herself, though in her defense, I will say the bad effect has as much to do with Seamus and Blaise's bond as it does with Luna herself. She wasn't expecting that...
Thank you for reading my fic! ♥
C is for..confuddled >_<
Date: 2007-08-16 01:47 am (UTC)From:Re: C is for..confuddled >_<
Date: 2007-08-16 04:02 am (UTC)From:Re: C is for..confuddled >_<
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2007-08-16 10:38 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: C is for..confuddled >_<
From:Re: C is for..confuddled >_<
From:Re: C is for..confuddled >_<
From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 01:01 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:49 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-17 07:47 am (UTC)From:I can't even describe the genius that is you. I feel like a broken record but this chapter was so intense. And it's in Harry's POV. And I love it because we don't get to see that much of Harry. :-D
We also get to see Harry admit how much Draco means to him, not in exact those words but close. I was actually wondering if Harry and Draco already had some sort of intimate history before we see them hook up the first time. Because when we first see them hook up in this story it seemed like there was already some familiarity there. Unless I'm an idiot and you're going, "Duh! Yes, they've hooked up before." :-P
It was also a real surprise that Dumbledore was the one who chose Ginny to bond with Harry. Is it because Dumbledore thought that Harry was in love with her?
And what's going on with Luna?!?!
So many questions. I can't wait for the next update. I'm so glad a story like this exists. It's utterly brilliant and I love you so much for writing it.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:56 pm (UTC)From:Awww!! *snuggles tightly* Thank you for saying that!
Because when we first see them hook up in this story it seemed like there was already some familiarity there.
Alas, no past sexual history, unless you count the burgeoning amounts of UST. *laughs* But then, that's always the case, yes? ^__^ But they are definitley in tune with each other, more than either one wants to admit.
It was also a real surprise that Dumbledore was the one who chose Ginny to bond with Harry. Is it because Dumbledore thought that Harry was in love with her?
Answers are coming, no worries.
And what's going on with Luna?!?!
In my mind, Luna would have been just fine looking for Seamus and Blaise that way if not for the completely unexpected presence of their bond. She wasn't expecting it. The bond magic is as ancient as her ward, and they are both incredibly powerful. When they meet, not always so good. ^_~
Thank YOU so much for reading my story! *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 08:53 am (UTC)From:I swear I should stick to my decision to not read a story until it is completed. I don't think my heart can take it when I read something as awesome as this chapter and then have to wait for the next part. Seriously, it' why I usually wait until a TV show has been on for a season or two before I start watching it. That way I can still pace myself but if I've just watched a cliffhanger and can't seem to find any patience to wait for the next episode, I can just go ahead a keep watching. Sad isn't it?
Anyway, I just love you and the way you take the time to develop you characters. I get soo drawn in when I read your fics. And this one has so much going on and is all dark and angsty that it kills me. But in a good way of course.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 06:58 pm (UTC)From:O.o Wow! That is a fantastic comment. Thank you so much for GIVING me the power over you. It's as much you as it is me.
I actually kind of think this story might be better read once it IS complete. Alas, I definitely cannot be that patient. I'm sorry for the constant cliffies. *pets*
Thank you for reading my story, and for sticking with it. I will work hard to get chapters ready in a timely manner. ♥
no subject
Date: 2007-08-19 05:32 am (UTC)From:With the arrival of Seamus and Blaise, I'm sure new light will be shed on the subject of bonds. I'm anxious to see what condition the two will be in.
And Draco needs to work on his pillow talk. ; ) What timing!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 05:03 pm (UTC)From:*griiiiiiin* You are an intelligent reader, you. *hugs*
But to answer your question, no, the only encounters they have had are the ones detailed or mentioned in the fic. It doesn't take much for this bond in the right (or wrong) circumstances.
And yeah, I agree: Pillow-talk failed Draco this time around. *laughs*
no subject
Date: 2007-08-21 03:19 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 05:05 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 03:24 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 05:05 pm (UTC)From:have a good winter
Date: 2007-09-05 05:37 pm (UTC)From:i'm saying all this because i have run out of different ways to express how much i adore your writing, how much your characters move me and how much your plot has sucked me in. this chapter was just wonderful, even though your boys are going to give me an ulcer. you know i won't forgive you if you kill blaise right? i also won't forgive you if you let anything too bad happen to luna. consider yourself warned.
Re: have a good winter
Date: 2007-09-29 05:58 am (UTC)From:I hope your trip was fabulous! And indeed, it sounds as though it definitely was. Thank you for the traditional greeting!
I will do my best to get back to writing The Road as soon as I feel up to it. I am antsy to get back to it! *grins* Thank you so much for reading it, and for immersing yourself in it as you have. It means a lot. ^_^