With Teeth
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
18,797
Reviews:
64
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
18,797
Reviews:
64
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Beside You In Time
**Now that I\'ve decided not to stay
I can feel me start to fade away
Everything is back where it belongs
I will be beside you before long**
--
One foot in front of the other. It was easy; just step up, plant your weight, shift your other foot forward, step up, plant your weight again. Harry’d somehow managed to make it out of his bathroom, through his dorm room, out of his common room, and into the hall without coming across anyone. His luck was phenomenal. It was almost as if the fates wanted him to carry out his plans. So he continued his way, slowly climbing the stairs, traversing the corridors, making his way up and up and up. His body knew his destination, even if his head didn’t.
He hadn’t even made it out of his day old set of pajamas. His flannel pants and thin white tank hung on his pallid frame and he walked as if hypnotized, almost zombie-like. His feet moved themselves. He’d barely even come to terms with what he’d planned to do, but he was slowly acclimating to the fact. He was actually welcoming the oblivion he’d expected would follow. An anticipatory buzz hummed at his edges, and his stomach squirmed, and up he moved.
**
The anticipation never left the edges of his consciousness, but his head cleared and the visions ended. Draco was left panting on the cold tiles he felt so accustomed to by now. The ice against his cheek felt so familiar and welcoming.
One half of Draco’s brain knew this was silly. He’d never spent a night of his life on the bathroom floor. He was the collected one. Never over-indulged, never prone to fits of over-dramatics; but it still comforted him. He supposed that was all that mattered.
And with the new-found clarity the new position brought him, he knew what he had to do.
Rising steadily to his feet and reaching for the nearest thing he could wear (for he knew time was of the essence if his gut was anything to go by) he swept out of the bathroom, through his dorm room, through his common room, and into the hallways. He ignored every comment, rebuffed every proffered advance, and marched towards his destination. His head, as much as his body, knew exactly where he was going. He strode with purpose.
**
Harry reached another staircase, climbing steadily upwards. He had a picture in his mind, of what heaven might be like. He didn’t particularly feel as if he deserved it, but he knew he certainly couldn’t deserve hell. He felt content with small victories. His life was hell, so he could hope the afterlife would be better. The end of the staircase brought another one. He climbed that too.
**
Draco knew time was against him. He was starting in the dungeons, while Harry was starting from a tower. The closer the brunette got to his destination, the tighter Draco’s chest got. He sped his strides, hoping against hope that he’d be able to intercept.
He’d never make it.
**
Finally Harry stood nose to rung with the ladder that took you onto the deck where innocent students studied the stars, and not-so-innocent students studied each other’s bodies. A swallow, and a hand to the course wood, and a foot to the lowest rung; his weak body pulled itself up, one at a time.
Almost there.
**
Draco was finally amongst the towers, and gaining speed with each turn. He knew Harry was there. He knew how close he was, and he prayed he could run just a LITTLE faster. He jumped steps and hurtled round corners, lungs nigh bursting. His feet ached and his head pounded, but he HAD to make it!
**
The cold air, sun not quite risen, and a few stars twinkling their good-nights greeted Harry as he stood in the open air. He breathed in deeply, relishing the sensation he never thought he’d miss. The cold licked at his insides, and sent a gentle shiver down his spine.
Of course, it could have been a shiver of anticipation.
He looked around, arms open wide, spinning in a slow circle; an act to both take in the entirety of Hogwarts, and to say his own good night.
He raised his head to the skies, eyes blinking closed. He felt no remorse for his decision. A gentle sadness washed at his edges masking a dull panic that roared in his ears. He didn’t recognize this panic, and knew it wasn’t his. He pushed the thought out of his head, though, and stepped to the edge of observation deck, hands gently rubbing the stone.
**
Draco knew Harry was there. He could feel his fingertips on the ladder, and could smell his scent on the air. Biting back the last bit of trepidation at what he might find at the top, he scrambled up, completely disregarding all sense of propriety and dignity.
**
At the top, Draco let out a long-held breath. He knew His Harry was okay, so far. He still wasn’t sure how, but he did. And when he saw the brunette silhouetted against the almost-light sky, he fell back against the stone. He wasn’t sure if Harry saw him yet; his back was still to him. He saw his fingers splaying against the stone railing, though, and forced himself to step closer.
The shifting of bare feet on stone behind him caught Harr’s ear, and he held his breath. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of the blonde behind him and stiffened. His brain was in conflict with itself. Should he kneel? Avert his gaze? Call him Sir? Ignore him completely? Pretend nothing ever happened between them? Beg for forgiveness? Fall to his knees and start crying?
That’s what he felt like doing.
As the tears pricked at his eyes, and it grew more difficult to breath, it took all he had to just stand still. He could feel the blonde advancing, and he realized how it made him feel.
Like a trapped animal.
“Don’t.”
The blonde was surprised to hear him speaking. He didn’t know what he expected, but it was more along the lines of him leaping over the edge the second he realized he was there.
“Harry, what are you doing?”
The gentleness in Draco’s voice was just too much. Harry just knew that he was coddling him because he felt guilty. He didn’t care, he just thought it was his fault; wanted to assuage his conscience.
He set his jaw and bit his tongue hard, brassy liquid filling his mouth. He heard the gasp behind him, and saw a flash in his head of the blonde’s mouth filled with blood. Turning around, he locked his gaze on His Angel. The longing, pulling from his chest and reaching out for the other boy, crippled his resolve. As his eyes filled too high with tears, he turned back to the railing and pulled himself atop the stone.
“Wait!”
The panic surprised both of them, and again they both stopped in their tracks. The wind kicking up around them, whipping Harry’s flannels against his legs. His hair seemed right at home in the flipping air, and at any other time Draco would have had to bite back a gasp, but just then all he could think about was that he didn’t want His Harry to die. He’d die before letting him go, and he said it out loud.
Unfortunately, in his angst ridden mind, Harry was convinced the statement was more of a jeer. A taunt indicating Draco didn’t think he could do it.
Draco shook his head at how out of touch His Harry seemed to be. He could hear everything His Harry was thinking, but he was too clouded and muddled by his own emotions to hear how the blonde felt. Draco still didn’t understand their tangible connection, but he was glad for it. He never wanted to quit feeling what His Harry was feeling; even the incredible malcontent he was feeling now.
Through his musings, he found himself closer to the teetering brunette. Harry now stood on the edge, stock still and staring down to the ground below. His eyes were glazed, as if not even seeing the ground at all. Maybe he believed he’d never hit. Maybe he thought he’d just float away. Draco watched as he shook his head, almost as if to himself. Draco stepped even closer as he watched Harry toe at the edge, sliding his foot forward until it hung freely in the air.
“Harry, please.”
He didn’t care that his voice broke, cracking slightly. He just wanted His Harry down, in his arms. But Harry didn’t respond to his voice this time. The pull from the grounds below seemed magnetic and he watched as His Harry leaned further, arms spreading wide and catching the wind that still fluttered madly around them.
Finally Harry turned around to look into the face of the man that both graced and tortured his dreams. Draco could see the tears in his eyes, and was petrified of the waver in Harry’s step as he leaned both against and away from the wind.
“Harry, come down.”
Harry shook his head in answer, not even realizing he was answering. Draco was afraid of approaching quicker, especially with Harry watching him. Any sudden movement, any surprise, might send him over. They stared into each other’s eyes. Their breath matched the other’s. A flurry of thoughts knocked at the edges of Draco’s consciousness. He heard it clearly, Harry’s voice.
“I’m sorry.”
“I love you.”
“I’ll be with you soon.”
“It’ll be better next time.”
All of thoughts, unconscious streams of ideas pouring from Harry’s brain to his. It was almost too much, the monotonous words, so full of emotion, assaulting his senses.
“Stop.”
A whisper.
He blearily noticed as Harry’s glasses were set on the stone at his feet.
“Stop.”
Louder now, almost drowning out the sound.
Harry looked over his shoulder at the ground one last time, clearly not seeing anything through the incredible blur.
“Stop!”
A shout, much too late as the foot edged back, meeting thin air.
The wind blew through dark hair as an almost peaceful, quietly resigned face fell back to meet its fate. Draco threw himself forward, pale hands gripping stone, and watched as green eyes flew open to lock on his once more. He bit back a gasp at the fear and love that poured from them, and without thinking leaned forward, throwing his hand out as if to stop traffic.
The wind roared in his ears as it nearly carried away his shouted words, taking away the one thing in his life that ever meant anything.
--
**Oh, we will never die
Oh, beside you in time
Oh, we will never die
Oh, beside you in time**
I can feel me start to fade away
Everything is back where it belongs
I will be beside you before long**
--
One foot in front of the other. It was easy; just step up, plant your weight, shift your other foot forward, step up, plant your weight again. Harry’d somehow managed to make it out of his bathroom, through his dorm room, out of his common room, and into the hall without coming across anyone. His luck was phenomenal. It was almost as if the fates wanted him to carry out his plans. So he continued his way, slowly climbing the stairs, traversing the corridors, making his way up and up and up. His body knew his destination, even if his head didn’t.
He hadn’t even made it out of his day old set of pajamas. His flannel pants and thin white tank hung on his pallid frame and he walked as if hypnotized, almost zombie-like. His feet moved themselves. He’d barely even come to terms with what he’d planned to do, but he was slowly acclimating to the fact. He was actually welcoming the oblivion he’d expected would follow. An anticipatory buzz hummed at his edges, and his stomach squirmed, and up he moved.
**
The anticipation never left the edges of his consciousness, but his head cleared and the visions ended. Draco was left panting on the cold tiles he felt so accustomed to by now. The ice against his cheek felt so familiar and welcoming.
One half of Draco’s brain knew this was silly. He’d never spent a night of his life on the bathroom floor. He was the collected one. Never over-indulged, never prone to fits of over-dramatics; but it still comforted him. He supposed that was all that mattered.
And with the new-found clarity the new position brought him, he knew what he had to do.
Rising steadily to his feet and reaching for the nearest thing he could wear (for he knew time was of the essence if his gut was anything to go by) he swept out of the bathroom, through his dorm room, through his common room, and into the hallways. He ignored every comment, rebuffed every proffered advance, and marched towards his destination. His head, as much as his body, knew exactly where he was going. He strode with purpose.
**
Harry reached another staircase, climbing steadily upwards. He had a picture in his mind, of what heaven might be like. He didn’t particularly feel as if he deserved it, but he knew he certainly couldn’t deserve hell. He felt content with small victories. His life was hell, so he could hope the afterlife would be better. The end of the staircase brought another one. He climbed that too.
**
Draco knew time was against him. He was starting in the dungeons, while Harry was starting from a tower. The closer the brunette got to his destination, the tighter Draco’s chest got. He sped his strides, hoping against hope that he’d be able to intercept.
He’d never make it.
**
Finally Harry stood nose to rung with the ladder that took you onto the deck where innocent students studied the stars, and not-so-innocent students studied each other’s bodies. A swallow, and a hand to the course wood, and a foot to the lowest rung; his weak body pulled itself up, one at a time.
Almost there.
**
Draco was finally amongst the towers, and gaining speed with each turn. He knew Harry was there. He knew how close he was, and he prayed he could run just a LITTLE faster. He jumped steps and hurtled round corners, lungs nigh bursting. His feet ached and his head pounded, but he HAD to make it!
**
The cold air, sun not quite risen, and a few stars twinkling their good-nights greeted Harry as he stood in the open air. He breathed in deeply, relishing the sensation he never thought he’d miss. The cold licked at his insides, and sent a gentle shiver down his spine.
Of course, it could have been a shiver of anticipation.
He looked around, arms open wide, spinning in a slow circle; an act to both take in the entirety of Hogwarts, and to say his own good night.
He raised his head to the skies, eyes blinking closed. He felt no remorse for his decision. A gentle sadness washed at his edges masking a dull panic that roared in his ears. He didn’t recognize this panic, and knew it wasn’t his. He pushed the thought out of his head, though, and stepped to the edge of observation deck, hands gently rubbing the stone.
**
Draco knew Harry was there. He could feel his fingertips on the ladder, and could smell his scent on the air. Biting back the last bit of trepidation at what he might find at the top, he scrambled up, completely disregarding all sense of propriety and dignity.
**
At the top, Draco let out a long-held breath. He knew His Harry was okay, so far. He still wasn’t sure how, but he did. And when he saw the brunette silhouetted against the almost-light sky, he fell back against the stone. He wasn’t sure if Harry saw him yet; his back was still to him. He saw his fingers splaying against the stone railing, though, and forced himself to step closer.
The shifting of bare feet on stone behind him caught Harr’s ear, and he held his breath. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of the blonde behind him and stiffened. His brain was in conflict with itself. Should he kneel? Avert his gaze? Call him Sir? Ignore him completely? Pretend nothing ever happened between them? Beg for forgiveness? Fall to his knees and start crying?
That’s what he felt like doing.
As the tears pricked at his eyes, and it grew more difficult to breath, it took all he had to just stand still. He could feel the blonde advancing, and he realized how it made him feel.
Like a trapped animal.
“Don’t.”
The blonde was surprised to hear him speaking. He didn’t know what he expected, but it was more along the lines of him leaping over the edge the second he realized he was there.
“Harry, what are you doing?”
The gentleness in Draco’s voice was just too much. Harry just knew that he was coddling him because he felt guilty. He didn’t care, he just thought it was his fault; wanted to assuage his conscience.
He set his jaw and bit his tongue hard, brassy liquid filling his mouth. He heard the gasp behind him, and saw a flash in his head of the blonde’s mouth filled with blood. Turning around, he locked his gaze on His Angel. The longing, pulling from his chest and reaching out for the other boy, crippled his resolve. As his eyes filled too high with tears, he turned back to the railing and pulled himself atop the stone.
“Wait!”
The panic surprised both of them, and again they both stopped in their tracks. The wind kicking up around them, whipping Harry’s flannels against his legs. His hair seemed right at home in the flipping air, and at any other time Draco would have had to bite back a gasp, but just then all he could think about was that he didn’t want His Harry to die. He’d die before letting him go, and he said it out loud.
Unfortunately, in his angst ridden mind, Harry was convinced the statement was more of a jeer. A taunt indicating Draco didn’t think he could do it.
Draco shook his head at how out of touch His Harry seemed to be. He could hear everything His Harry was thinking, but he was too clouded and muddled by his own emotions to hear how the blonde felt. Draco still didn’t understand their tangible connection, but he was glad for it. He never wanted to quit feeling what His Harry was feeling; even the incredible malcontent he was feeling now.
Through his musings, he found himself closer to the teetering brunette. Harry now stood on the edge, stock still and staring down to the ground below. His eyes were glazed, as if not even seeing the ground at all. Maybe he believed he’d never hit. Maybe he thought he’d just float away. Draco watched as he shook his head, almost as if to himself. Draco stepped even closer as he watched Harry toe at the edge, sliding his foot forward until it hung freely in the air.
“Harry, please.”
He didn’t care that his voice broke, cracking slightly. He just wanted His Harry down, in his arms. But Harry didn’t respond to his voice this time. The pull from the grounds below seemed magnetic and he watched as His Harry leaned further, arms spreading wide and catching the wind that still fluttered madly around them.
Finally Harry turned around to look into the face of the man that both graced and tortured his dreams. Draco could see the tears in his eyes, and was petrified of the waver in Harry’s step as he leaned both against and away from the wind.
“Harry, come down.”
Harry shook his head in answer, not even realizing he was answering. Draco was afraid of approaching quicker, especially with Harry watching him. Any sudden movement, any surprise, might send him over. They stared into each other’s eyes. Their breath matched the other’s. A flurry of thoughts knocked at the edges of Draco’s consciousness. He heard it clearly, Harry’s voice.
“I’m sorry.”
“I love you.”
“I’ll be with you soon.”
“It’ll be better next time.”
All of thoughts, unconscious streams of ideas pouring from Harry’s brain to his. It was almost too much, the monotonous words, so full of emotion, assaulting his senses.
“Stop.”
A whisper.
He blearily noticed as Harry’s glasses were set on the stone at his feet.
“Stop.”
Louder now, almost drowning out the sound.
Harry looked over his shoulder at the ground one last time, clearly not seeing anything through the incredible blur.
“Stop!”
A shout, much too late as the foot edged back, meeting thin air.
The wind blew through dark hair as an almost peaceful, quietly resigned face fell back to meet its fate. Draco threw himself forward, pale hands gripping stone, and watched as green eyes flew open to lock on his once more. He bit back a gasp at the fear and love that poured from them, and without thinking leaned forward, throwing his hand out as if to stop traffic.
The wind roared in his ears as it nearly carried away his shouted words, taking away the one thing in his life that ever meant anything.
--
**Oh, we will never die
Oh, beside you in time
Oh, we will never die
Oh, beside you in time**