Better Than Cookies {COMPLETE}

A/N: So, I'm not dead as many of you may have feared. My profile tells the whole sad tale of my Internet loss. Tragic, really. Alright! Enough of that. So, this chapter pretty much wrote itself(It's a bit dark, with Harry...breaking, as the chapter heading says)I'm hoping to have the next bit up soon. (maybe this coming weekend?)
Anyway, hope you like it. It's got a little smut. Draco and...? I'll make it a game to guess who it is. I give lots of hints. No big deal if you don't get it, the answer is in the next couple of chapters. As always, I'm open to your thoughts and opinions. Enjoy!

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It was dim and foggy, like the early morning on the moors of Scotland. The air was so thick it felt like breathing water, cool and crisp. The strangely lit space seeming to stretch out forever in every direction. The absence of visibility made it impossible to tell. Remus turned in a circle, squinting. He gave a heavy sigh. After a few beats, his eyes widened as he realized he had no breath.

The space seemed to get darker around him and he wrapped his arms about himself. Strange hoots and cries came from somewhere off to his left. From the wordless noise, he thought he caught a snippet of a human’s voice. He tipped his head to the side. When it didn’t come again, Remus began to move steadily away from the unsettling noises.

“Remus?”

The voice seemed to whisper from just over his left shoulder. Remus whipped around to see nothing but the dark, foggy space.

“Remus?” The voice came louder and a bit more clear from his right side.

“Keep away from me. I warn you.” The hairs rose on the back of his neck as he continued to stumble backwards, away from the voice. Previously unseen brambles and roots tangled about his feet in an attempt to drag him down.

“Remus.” The voice sounded almost wounded. “Do you not remember me?” From the fog, a figure teased just on the edge of Remus’ vision. A brief glimpse made him stop in his tracks.

“It can’t be. You’re…and I’m…” Remus’ tongue refused to speak the words floating vaguely in his mind.

The voice came again, this time a low purr. “I’m dead and you’re dead. Isn’t that what you’re trying to say.” The voice faded again, but not before dropping a kiss on the side of Remus’ neck.

Remus turned toward the warmth only to have it vanish as quick as it had come. “Yes.” He squinted, reaching out with his senses. From the darkness off to his left, a figure slowly began to materialize. Remus turned to face the newly corporeal being. The man approached from the darkness. A boot stepped from the fog followed by a long, darkly clad leg. Remus froze and watched the beginnings of an athletic torso in a loose black shirt.

“Remus.” Long black hair tickled the man’s broad shoulders and framed his handsome face. Twinkling blue eyes met and held Remus’. “Moony.”

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“The train will be leaving at precisely 11 AM. I recommend taking action between the second and third hour of the trip so as to avoid any sabotages by the parents of our Slytherin’s. I have insured Harry will be in the eighth car with only a classmate for protection. I have arranged everything. Do not make light of my careful planning. -A.”

The note instantly burst into brilliant flames the moment the reader finished, fluttering to the floor in a rain of ash. Hurgid sneered down at what remained of the letter before stepping on it and grinding it into the highly polished wood.

Hurgid ignored the stares, snatching his bag of coins from the table, and exiting the pub. He stopped just outside the door and looked both ways down the grimy alley. Cramped stores with darkened windows took up every inch of available space besides the winding path that was filled with shifty and dangerous characters. Hurgid glanced down the hill where a group of whores waved and writhed seductively against the front wall of their establishment. He ultimately turned away and started up the hill to the sound of their disappointed calls.

The light in the alley began to increase the farther up the hill he progressed until finally, a sign hung over head. “Now leaving Knockturn Alley,” was written in sickly grey letters over a pitch black background. A few feet later, another sign proclaimed, “Welcome to Diagon Alley.” The happy green and white sign made Hurgid growl, frightening a group of school girls. At their frightened gasps, he smiled nastily and jerked up his hood to obscure his face.

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Hermione watched Harry out of the corner of her eye, careful to make it look as if she were focused on the heavy textbook in her lap. Every few seconds, Harry would shiver violently and wrap a heavy blanket tighter around himself. His eyes never strayed from the wall in front of him, barely even blinking. The Black family tree stretched across the wall like a family of snakes. The thought of the predominantly Slytherin family made her momentarily smile at her wit.

She turned the unread page of her book and raised her free hand to wipe a bead of sweat from her forehead. The fireplace blazed, sending nearly visible waves of heat into the small room, and still Harry shivered uncontrollably. She finally mentally sighed and closed her book quietly. Careful not to startle him, she crossed the room and sank to her knees in front of him.

“Harry? Harry, can you hear me?”

He continued staring over her head as if she had never moved from across the room. “It hurts,” the comment was so quiet, she had to lean forward to catch it.

“Harry, I think you should see Madame Pomphrey. This fever isn’t normal and I’m afraid…” Her voice trailed off and she frowned at his glazed eyes. Hermione lay her hand on his knee lightly. “Harry…” She was cut off by his horrible scream.

Harry leapt from the chair, staring at her as if she had burned him. “No!”

“Harry, please. You have to calm down.” Hermione watched him with mounting panic as he began to pace from one end of the room to the other. “I’m really worried. Something is seriously wrong.”

“Yes.” Harry came to dead stop and turned to look at her strangely, a touch of madness in his eyes. “Bring me Severus.” He instantly began to pace again.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth twice before she nodded and left the room. All the way to the sitting room, she went over Harry’s symptoms in her mind. With the rest, she added the newest one. Harry’s sibilant hiss.

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Draco crept down the staircase silently, careful to avoid scraping the bottom of his boots on the stone steps. At the base of the stairs, he peeked around the corner. The torch-lit hallway was empty in both directions. He quickly crossed to the door directly across from the stairwell and slipped inside the room. The closing of the door eliminated all light and Draco could only wait from the first touch from his lover.

Battle-rough hands seized him by the wrists and jerked him forward until he collided with a solid chest. In the next moment the room filled with the sounds of tearing as his shirt fell to the floor in tatters.

“Aw. My mum had that shirt made for me in France,” the blonde whined. A throaty growl made him sigh dramatically. “I wanted you to see it.”

“I saw it, purpose served. Now it’s just a hindrance.” With one last jerk, the remaining sleeve fell to the ground leaving him naked from the waist up in the chilly room. “Cold?”

“Freezing.” Draco smirked and pressed himself against the chest of his companion. “I can’t see a thing.” He wrinkled his nose and cocked his head to the side as he stared intently into the darkness where his lover’s face should be.

“That’s the point.” The comment was uttered with a growl.

Draco yelped as he was slammed against the wall. His head hit the wall with enough force to make stars dance across his vision. The hard body pressed him to the stone with inhuman force, making each breath a pant that heightened his excitement. He felt his lover’s hair in his face, silky and smelling of wildness. “Are you going to take me here,” he gasped out as sharp teeth grazed his hardened nipples. “Are you going to make me your whore, make me beg in the dark like a slut?”

The hands slid down to his hips and squeezed. “Yes.”

The simple word made Draco moan and press closer. “Oh, please.”

Rich laughter filled the space between them. “My adventurous little dragon.” The endearment was followed by a sharp jerk and a series of thuds as buttons popped free from Draco’s pants.

Sharp nails skimmed Draco’s hardened cock and made him gasp, but press closer. A strong hand curled around him and squeezed rhythmically. “Ah!” Draco reached out with soft, pale hands to touch his lover’s lips. His fingertips skimmed across sharp eyeteeth. In a lightning fast move, his wrists were seized and pinned above his head.

“What are you doing?” his lover growled angrily, pressing hard enough on Draco’s fragile skin to leave bruises.

“I didn’t mean anything.” Draco strained forward to reach the lips just out of reach. He received a thoughtful hum as he succeeded in finding a pair of warm lips. “Now, aren’t you supposed to be fucking me by now?”

The hands released their hold on his wrists to grasp the waistband of his trousers and jerk them down to his ankles. Seconds later, the hands returned to spin him around and press his hands against the wall. After an exploratory prod, a thick shaft slid into him, slamming him against the wall.

“Ah!” All attempts at eloquence were abandoned as Draco simply focused on continuing to stand while being repeatedly impaled on the huge cock. The hands cushioned the pounding of the wall on his hips.

“I see you came prepared?” The amused voice whispered in his ear.

Draco moaned and nodded hard. “Yes!”

“So, you like this, then?”

Draco screamed at the hard thrust that followed the question. “Again! Please…” The plea tapered off to a ragged moan as a hand clamped over his mouth.

“Shhh. We don’t want your parents to hear do we?” The other hand gently brushed the hair back from the blonde’s forehead.

Draco sobbed and nodded, arching his back. He shook off the hand against his mouth and nearly yelled, “I don’t care. Please!” He did yell at the hand that closed over his cock to give him hard, fast strokes. Back arched in release, his yell joined the animalistic snarl of his lover as they both came almost painfully hard. As the tension faded, they crumpled to the floor in a heap. Draco buried his face in the wild scented clothing and fell asleep cradled carefully against the fully clothed body of his lover.

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Voldemort looked away from the sea of white masks to glare darkly at the late arrivals. The three figures paused inside the door long enough to receive a nod before they continued to their places. Voldemort, mood darkening daily with the loss of his submissive and Machiavellian plotting of Dumbledore, allowed his eyes to follow one of the late arrivals all the way to their place in the lines. He smirked and took great pleasure from the shivers it caused.

Voldemort locked eyes with the frightened Deatheater and spat, “Crucio!”

The man fell to the ground, shrieking shrilly, and vainly scrambling away from the Dark Lord.

Voldemort’s face darkened in annoyance. “You dare to be late? You dare to think yourself equal to me? Even worse than your tardiness, you dare to think you need not beg for forgiveness.” Voldemort ignored the man’s attempts to speak. “No! You will not speak in my presence. No, you will not speak.” His eyes flashed a deeper red as he mumbled out a long string of Latin. At the end of the curse, the man’s screams faded to panicked mumbles.

The less controlled members of the crowd gasped at the sight of the smooth skin where the man’s mouth had been. Bella slowly raised her eyes to the man and the ghost of a smirk curved her lips before she met the Dark Lord’s eyes. The moment ended as the doors of the hall slammed open and Narcissa Malfoy appeared.

“My Lord!” The normally serene woman franticly scanned the room. Her eyes immediately landed on Severus Snape and she ran toward him.

Voldemort watched their exchange with growing panic. His mate’s wife gestured wildly with her hands as she stage whispered to the potions master. Greyback, who stood on Severus’ other side, scowled and turned to the Dark Lord.

*My Lord, Harry is sick. Hermione Granger sent an urgent owl for Severus.*

The room began to shake violently. *Why are they talking? Lucius, do I have to tell you how displeased I will be if anything happens to Harry?*

Lucius grasped Narcissa’s arm and forcefully dragged her from the room. Severus kept pace beside her, scowling and listening to the details of the letter.

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The room had the strongest wards possible and the door, three different locking charms. Still Hermione stood with her back to the corner firing off both light and dark spells at the Weasley twins.

“Come on ‘Mione. Who’s side are you on?” Fred leaned to the right to look at the unconscious form behind her. “You aren’t really going to defend that are you? He’s gone dark. Come on, ‘Mione, just let us have him.”

Hermione smiled darkly. “No.” She took a step closer to the feverish wizard and mumbled under her breath, slipping her hand into her pocket to grip the object there. The second her foot touched Harry’s blanket, the portkey activated, and they vanished from the Order Headquarters.

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P.S.- Any and all spelling/grammar mistakes are my own. Please do not tar and feather me.