Devil's Snare

Title: Devil's Snare

Rating: R

Word Count: 477

014: Rain

Paring: Harry/Draco

Summary: Harry is told to bring Draco to the light side of the war at any cost. Post-HBP, D/s, dubious consent, Post-Hogwarts, war!fic.

Disclaimer: Unoriginal characters and situations belong to JKRowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

Table of Contents found at http://www.livejournal.com/users/mahoganyhandle/9713.html

~

Storm clouds were brewing on the horizon and had been for days. The winter grew grayer and colder. A shrill omen sliced through the air.

Harry Flooed to into Malfoy's parlor after a particularly grueling meeting with the Order. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and fall into a sweet dream, but he needed to look up a few references that Hermione had procured at work.

"Good evening, Mister Potter," said Bethany, a solemn maid in the Malfoy household who had a knack for appearing out of the shadows whenever she was needed. "Master Malfoy is out in the garden, Sir."

"Thank you," Harry said. He headed out to the garden. He came upon Belladonna first, illegally practicing animation spells on the rose bushes with her father's wand. She greeted Harry merrily, as always, and somehow charmed him into teaching her an incantation that would make the flowers sprout legs and dance. They practiced it for perhaps half an hour, until the sky darkened and thunder erupted on the horizon.

Sweeping her into his arms, he said, "Let's go find your Daddy before the rain comes."

"Daddy and Blaise want to be alone for a moment," Bella told him. Harry stiffened upon hearing that. Zabini was here. That could only mean that Malfoy called him over. The thought stoked a rage in Harry that had long remained dormant.

"That's okay," Harry said. "Let's not disturb them." But Harry didn't turn around. He kept going forward until he heard soft voices. Creeping closer, Harry brought them into view. Zabini sat upon a stone bench with Malfoy in his lap, front-to-back, Malfoy's head resting on his shoulder.

"So, what are you going to do?" Malfoy asked.

"Kill him," Zabini answered. "He knows too much about Dulcea. If the Dark Lord gets wind of whom she really is…. And you."

"I'm fine," Malfoy replied.

"No, baby, you're not. Let me protect you."

"Protect me?" Malfoy repeated, voice tinged with amusement. "My hero. Let me show you my appreciation."

Harry took Belladonna inside. He put her to bed as lightening flashed in through the windows, casting a faint blue light on the sleepy manor. She demanded that he read her a bedtime story, and he obliged, three times. The time with her had helped to soothe the fire in his heart.

When he left her, he fetched the recommended books from the library and retired to the master suite to read them in peace by the fireplace. Malfoy came in hours later, flushed and sopping wet. He did not appear startled to see Harry, but Malfoy's reactions were always so muted that Harry had a hard time reading them. Malfoy greeted Harry with a kiss like he usually did, but Harry turned away.

"What's the matter, hero?"

"Nothing," Harry lied.

Malfoy looked like sex and smelled like rain.