Bleed Me An Ocean

Disclaimer: The lyrics quoted herein are the sole property of Dax Riggs and Acid Bath. (For HP related disclaimer, see Chapter One)

A/N: The name of the song is "The Bones of Babydolls" for those of you that may want to know. Awesome tune it is. You should all download it. Yep *nods*

About taking so long to update: I took the holidays off. But I assure you all I am back to business as usual. I hope you all had a good one.

(Hogsmeade Weeked)

They trudged through the light snow at the rear of the crowd, just the two of them. Draco walked with his head down and arms wrapped tightly around himself. The sad and tense look made Harry frown. This had been going on for two days, since Draco had received an owl from Lucius telling him he thought it best that he stay at school for the holidays. Although Draco had intended to do just that, having the letter from his father more or less telling him that he wasn't wanted at home had seemed to crush him.

He had looked at Harry after he'd finished reading the letter, his eyes wide with hurt and said, "They don't even want me. My own parents want nothing to do with me."

"All because of music? Draco, that's awful. You don't need that in your life right now," Harry had told him, trying to think of something that would take away the wounded look in his lover's eyes.

"It doesn't matter, does it? Nothing really does," Draco had spoken softly, seeming to grow more morose by the second. He had grabbed his whiskey then and without another word, had risen from the chair they had since placed in their room and went to sit on the pallet, his back against the wall. Staring blankly at the dark blue quilt he'd drank in silence. Nothing Harry said could seem to pull him out of his funk. He'd went to sit beside him then and gently pulled the bottle from Draco's surprisingly strong grip, eliciting a mewl of annoyance from the blonde.

"I'll give it back, love, I promise. But I want you to listen for a moment, please. They are cruel Draco, your father especially. This is just one more way to abuse you. You can't let them get you down, I hate seeing what that man has done - and still does - to you," Harry spoke, his voice quiet and pleading.

"The damage is done, Harry. Your love makes me feel better, but each time that bastard does something like this . . . I fall right back into his trap. He's a sadistic fuck, but he's still my father and no matter how hard I try or what I do, nothing is ever enough. And baby, you can't make that go away. I am grateful for all you've done for me, sorry fuck up that I am, but you can't fix me. I wish you could, but you can't. Just be here with me, that's all I ask. Now, can I have my whiskey back?," he finished, his voice trembling and his eyes taking on that wild, panicked gleam that broke Harry's heart a little bit each time he saw it.

"I hate Lucius Malfoy, HATE HIM," Harry ground out as he handed the bottle back to Draco, "But I do love you and I will be here for you the best I can."

"Thank you," was all Draco said, sliding close to Harry for both warmth and comfort.

He had sat that way the entire evening, drinking until he saw double. Muttering a slurred 'I love you' some hours later, he'd wriggled beneath the covers and pressed close to Harry's leg. Soon he had been snoring drunkenly. Harry could recall running his slender fingers through pale, tousled locks and closing the gap between his body and the stone wall. The cold edges of the rock were sharp against his back but that didn’t matter at the time. He had clenched his eyes shut against the world and silently wept for Draco, for his love. The salty drops of water that oozed from beneath his eyelids and trailed down his cheeks were hot and unforgiving and seemed to scald the tender skin as he sobbed quietly.

Draco had been on a drinking binge ever since. He'd started going to classes once more and it was all Harry could do to wrench the bottle from Draco every morning. He'd been waking up before Harry, sometimes hours before and would start drinking most days before the sun ever came up. Harry had spent more time helping Draco lurch to his classes than he cared to think about. The owl from Lucius combined with the ongoing stress of being treated like a couple of lepers by their classmates seemed to have finally taken its toll on Draco's fragile emotional state and Harry had almost reached his breaking point as well. He had at least been right about Neville, he treated Harry no differently than he had before and was even polite to Draco. He was the only one though. It had been necessary to change Ron's schedule so he didn't share any classes with the two boys. Hermione was still in them, but she never spoke to Harry, barely even looked at him and when she did, her eyes were sad and betrayed.

At least Draco seemed more content when he was drunk, that was all Harry could cling to. His rare moments of sobriety the past three days had been awful. Not only for Draco to feel, but for Harry to watch. It made his stomach churn as he watched what little progress Draco had made in the last couple of weeks go right down the toilet, all thanks to an innocent looking piece of parchment.

The day of the Hogsmeade outing had proven no different. Harry had woken up to find Draco standing by the window, bottle in his hand and headphones on. He'd lain there for awhile listening to Draco sing to himself. He never tired of Draco singing, and although he was too shy to sing for Harry as he'd asked him, he always sang along with whatever he was listening to. Harry figured he did it for him, his own way of making up for not being able to bring himself to just sing outright for Harry. Smiling despite himself, Harry had sat up and drowned in the melody of Draco's voice.

Harry had found that the last part of the song had melded itself with his brain and he realized he had been humming it all day. When he replayed the words again in his mind, he was in awe of how accurately the lyrics depicted the situation he and Draco were in. He remembered Draco’s voice cracking slightly as he sang the last part and it made Harry think that he felt the same way.

He sang it softly to himself as he watched Draco stumble over a small drift of snow:

The kite string pops and
I'm swallowed whole by the sky
We smoke the bones of baby dolls
Techno-liquid screaming meat
Heaven's cold beneath my feet
Cyber love the anti-man we make love... because we can

Virgins play where the bayou's blue
Barefoot and bloody eatin' mushroom stew
Work for pay and pay for freedom
Fuck 'em all, we don't need 'em
We smoke the bones of baby dolls

Everything's gone dry
Like bottle glass
Scraping cross the pavement
Everything's gone dry
Like bottle glass
Scraping cross the pavement

He looked away from Draco to see Hogsmeade just ahead and allowed himself a small smile. He figured he'd spend most of the day watching Draco get smashed in some bar, but he didn't really mind. He was just glad to be out of the castle for awhile with Draco. It was nice and he reached to hold his thin hand, always amazed at how well it seemed to fit in his. His smile grew a little wider when he felt those elegant fingers twine through his and looked to see Draco smiling wanly at him, his eyes full of love even though they were glassy from liquor.

"What do you want to do today?," Harry asked, although he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Get drunk in public," was Draco's reply, his face lighting up at the prospect of being able to drink openly without getting expelled.

"Somehow I knew you were going to say that," Harry said, his voice tinged with a little disappointment.

"We can do other stuff, too, Harry. I don't expect you to sit with me in a pub all day. Give me a little fucking credit, ok?," Draco said gently, his eyes searching Harry's face.

Knowing he meant what he said, Harry relaxed a bit and said,"Credit given. Let's get a bite to eat before we go belly up to some bar. A meal that isn't delivered via house elf will be nice."

"Too right," was Draco's reply, "I'm in the mood for roast chicken."

"You? In the mood to eat? When did this happen?," Harry asked, making his voice sound suspicious.

Laughing a little and playfully shoving Harry, Draco said,"Since right now. The idea of food that doesn't come from the castle kitchen seems to have done wonders for my appetite. So tell me, what are you in the mood for?"

"Well . . .," Harry trailed off, his eyes raking over Draco's lithe frame, his eyes sparkling with mischief and unabashed lust.

"I meant what did you want to eat, moron," Draco responded, his own eyes devouring Harry's body.

Without a word, Harry shoved Draco behind an elm tree that stood next to the road and pressed his body against Draco's, reveling in the sensation of the winter-cold cloth and the warmth he could feel beneath it. Tangling his fingers in Draco's hair, Harry pulled his face to his and kissed him deeply, his tongue sliding over Draco's teeth, the smooth molars and the sharp pricks of Draco's canines. Moaning into his mouth, Draco kissed him back, his hands clenching in Harry's bulky black sweater for a moment before sliding beneath it to caress his back. Shuddering at the feel of Draco's cold fingers on his warm skin, Harry pressed against Draco more insistently as he ground the growing bulge in his pants against Draco's thigh.

Pulling away, panting and flushed, Draco said,"Harry we can't do anything here and you know it."

Grinning devilshly, Harry replied,"You can't really blame a boy for trying now can you?"

"No. No, I can't," Draco stated, gently stroking the bulge in Harry's pants before stepping around him and back onto the path.

"Tease!," Harry hissed at Draco as he stepped back onto the path as well. He smiled as he saw Draco's shoulders shaking with pent up laughter.

After entering Hogsmeade, they'd made their way to the closest and least crowded eating establishment. Taking a table in the back of the restaraunt they'd settled in to eat. Draco ordered the roast chicken he'd been craving and Harry settled on a rare steak. Harry'd cleaned his plate and had been pleased to see that Draco had eaten almost all of his food as well.

"What now?," Harry asked as they walked from the restaraunt.

"I know what I want to do, but if you have some other place in mind, we can go. I can wait a little longer," Draco said.

Harry knew that Draco was referring to alcohol and the 'little longer' part had been meant to tell Harry that he still had a slight buzz and would be alright for awhile. Looking up the muddy lane that ran through the village, Harry sighed. He really kind of wanted to go to the candystore, but everywhere he looked he saw students from Hogwarts. Ron had just walked into the one place he'd wanted to go and he definitely did not want to run into him or anyone else he and Draco knew.

His shoulders drooped momentarily as the look in Ron's eyes that day in the dungeon corridor flashed across his mind and he forced a shrug to compensate. With an inaudible sigh, he spoke, "Well, we already did what I had in mind and I really can't think of anything else at the moment, so lead the way."

It was apparent that Draco had missed the minute flicker of sorrow in Harry's emerald green eyes when he replied with a simple "Alright then," and started walking away. Harry fell in step behind him and thought, This should be interesting, as he looked reproachfully at the building they were approaching. He knew it to be a pub - that much had been evident by the slight gleam in Draco's eyes before he turned away - and he could only pray the inside was better than the outside. The exterior of the building was faded and worn and looked like something from a bad horror flick. It sat farther back than the other buildings and stores, nestled on the outskirts of town and Harry jogged slightly to catch up with his lover. If he had to go into a place like that, he would rather be close by Draco.

They entered the pub and much to Harry's relief, it did look better on the inside, albeit minimally so. It was surprisingly clean and warm though, the well-worn wooden floorboards gleamed with polish and the scarred and slightly warped bar still glistened wetly from a recent wiping.

"Welcome to The Wolf's Maw," spoke the proprietess from behind the bar cheerfully, "What'll it be for you fellas?"

"A double whiskey, neat, for me," Draco spoke as he sat at the far end of the bar, "And nothing - I think? - for my friend."

Harry eyed Draco for a moment, noticing how the lines of tension visibly eased from his face at the thought of a drink. He had never fancied himself a drinker, but he figured he would make the best of the situation at hand. “Actually I’ll have what he’s having,” he said with a note of finality and defeat.

"Alrighty then. Coming right up," the barmaid replied, smiling at them. Harry realized that she was a very beautiful woman. Her teeth were brilliantly white and her thick, dark hair fell in loose curls all the way to her waist without a speck of grey. He wondered why on Earth she was working in a rundown pub like The Wolf's Maw.

Draco's voice drew Harry from his inspection of the woman as he whispered,"I thought you hated whiskey, said it tasted awful."

Harry almost felt like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He was more than a bit anxiety ridden at the prospect of drinking something stronger than butterbeer - and so early in the day no less - but the idea of being relaxed even a little won out."Well, I only tasted it that one time. I figure it deserves another chance."

Giving him a funny look, Draco only nodded in acceptance and said, "You're a strange man, Harry Potter, but that's why I love you," he locked his gaze with Harry's and smiled at him before saying, "And I have to admit, it'll be nice to have someone to drink with for a change. Always drinking by yourself can get a bit lonely at times."

"I am sure so," Harry replied, trying not to fidget as the woman poured their drinks before them.

"Leave the bottle," Draco said, almost snapping at the woman as she moved to replace the alcohol on the shelf behind the bar.

"Sure thing honey," she stated, "By the way, my name's Nyx. If you two need anything else, just holler," and with that said she walked away, leaving them to drink and talk in the relative privacy of the near-empty pub. The only other patron was a wizard in a travel stained cloak that was asleep at one of the tables close to the door.

"To us," Draco said, lifting his drink in a toast as his other hand slid up Harry's thigh.

"To us," Harry repeated, raising his own glass. He watched as Draco turned his drink up and drank it all in a couple of hearty swallows. He frowned, he knew if he tried that he'd likely strangle or throw up. Possibly both. Taking a deep breath, he sipped his own whiskey tentatively. He was pleasantly surprised that he didn't choke on it, in fact, the whiskey tasted much better than he recalled. It had a mellow, slightly oaky flavor to it, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. He took another sip with more enthusiasm as Draco's fingers moved higher to his crotch.

With a sharp intake of breath, Harry tried to squirm away from Draco's questing fingers, "Draco! Stop it!," he hissed,"We're in public. What about what you said on the road into town?"

"That was then, this is now," Draco said offhandedly,"Besides, there are a LOT less people in here than there were outside and no one's even paying attention to us."

A quick look around showed Harry that Draco was right. The wizard was still dozing at his table and Nyx had her back to them, apparently taking inventory. Draco began to stroke and squeeze Harry's erection through his pants and he took another quick sip of his whiskey to drown out the groan that was poised on his lips. Gods! His hands, those beautiful hands!, Harry thought, losing himself in the touch on his cock and the muzzy feeling he was already starting to get from the liquor.

With one deft movement, Draco unzipped Harry's pants and slid his thin hand into the opening, working it through the fly of Harry's boxers to wrap his fingers around Harry's fully erect cock. Dragging the ball of his thumb across the head, he gathered the precum on his finger and withdrew his hand. Harry shuddered as Draco brought his glistening thumb to his lips and sucked it clean, his platinum eyes glittering lasciviously as he did so. Leaning close, he kissed Harry, sliding his tongue into his mouth and Harry sucked the salty flavor of himself from Draco's tongue, losing himself as always in the taste of the whiskey that lingered there. He shuddered again as he felt Draco's hand slide back into his pants even as he pulled away from the kiss. Biting his lip as those fingers once again started touching him lightly, dancing across the skin of his turgid cock, Harry shakily grabbed his glass of whiskey once more, trying to force himself not to moan and draw attention to himself. Taking a much larger swallow than any of the previous ones, he floated away as the pleasure of Draco's touch and the liquor flooded his nerve endings.

The delicious, yet teasing touch finally ceased as Draco gripped his cock firmly and started pumping his hand up and down the aching shaft, soothing Harry's need to feel something stronger on his flesh. Gasping harshly, Harry grabbed the cedar bar in a deathgrip as he neared a quick orgasm. The idea of doing this in public only heightened his arousal and he raised his hips slightly in rhythm to Draco's now rapid strokes. Fucking his boyfriend's hand in a pub was not something he'd ever imagined doing, but he'd done a lot of things he'd never thought he'd do since he'd gotten with Draco and he was once more silently thankful to him for opening such doors.

"Ah gods . . . Kali help me," he whispered hoarsely as his orgasm built and settled into his belly, "Harder."

Complying with his request, Draco began to stroke Harry's prick with as much force as he could manage with the barrier of cloth impeding his movements. Harry savagely bit down on his own bottom lip, drawing a small bead of blood, as his orgasm stormed through him, making him tremble and gasp. He covered his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. Draco grinned at the muffled moans and the look of sheer bliss on Harry's face as he continued to jerk his cock, slowing his pace until finally, it seemed that the last ebbs of the orgasm had washed over Harry. Pulling his hand out of Harry's jeans, he hastily licked the white fluid from his fingers and his hand, moaning a bit himself as the taste of Harry's semen filled his mouth.

Opening his eyes, he saw that Harry had also opened his and was watching him intently. "You taste so fucking good, Harry," Draco said in response to the look.

Blushing slightly, Harry grinned, "Thanks. You taste pretty damn good yourself. I wouldn't mind a little taste."

"Maybe later. That was just for you. We have all day though, so don't worry, I am sure you'll have the chance to repay the favor," Draco stated, looking at Harry with promise evident in his eyes.

"Fine then," Harry replied a little sulkily as he watched Draco pour himself another drink, the whiskey nearly overflowing the top of the glass.

Deciding to take a chance and see what happened, Harry lifted his drink and looked at the dark amber liquid for a moment before thinking, Screw it, and turning the glass up. Having drained it, he sat it back on the bar, gasping for breath as the whiskey seared his throat and settled in his stomach. A wave of heat washed over him suddenly and he began to sweat. Swiping his damp forehead he saw Draco looking at him, seeming puzzled and somewhat impressed all at once.

"I didn't know you had it in you," he said, looking at Harry's red, sweating face.

"I wanted to try it is all. You make it look so easy," he responded, shaking his hair out of his face.

"Well, I've had a lot more practice. You need to take it slow or you'll be shitfaced shortly," Draco said.

"And maybe I want to try getting drunk for a change," Harry shot back.

"No need to get belligerent, drink all you want. Who the hell am I to say anything?," Draco said.

"Ok then, pour me another," Harry said, swaying a bit on his stool.

"Sure thing," Draco replied, reaching for the bottle and splashing a little into the glass.

"No. Give me as much as you have," Harry said, his voice tense and nervous, but determined.

"Yeah. Sure. Ok," Draco stated, pouring Harry a glass full whilst giving him a doubtful look. If he keeps this up, they're gonna have to carry us both out of here, he thought.

=*|*=

An hour and half later they had taken their bottle and moved to a table at the rear of the bar. They were both drunk as all get out and laughing hysterically at the others' sloppy antics.

"Good show!," Draco said, clapping as Harry tried to mop up the drink he'd just sloshed all over the table and himself.

"Shurrup," Harry snarled, giggling like a fool himself.

"But . . . but . . . Harry . . . whishkey is shuch a good look on you," Draco screamed, tears of mirth rolling down his cheeks as he rocked back in his chair. "Oops!," he started as he felt the chair going over, flailing madly for a second before thumping onto the floor in a blonde heap, "Well, motherfucker," he said, struggling to right himself as Harry's laughter intensified and floated down to him.

"That'sh going to hurt like a bitsch tomorrow," Harry said, peering over the edge of the table to look at his struggling boyfriend.

"Yesh, it shertainly will," Draco said, starting to laugh himself at his own clumsiness.

Finally righting himself and his chair, Draco plopped back into it and stared at Harry with bleary eyes that still twinkled with humor. A glance at the clock over the bar told him it was time to go, but he didn't want to. He wanted to stay at The Wolf's Maw with his roaring drunk lover forever. He hadn't felt as good as he did at that moment in literally years. It was the best time he could ever remember having with someone.

"Wha?," Harry asked, looking back at Draco with equally bleary eyes. He hiccuped loudly as Draco seemed to sway and then double before him. Harry didn't care about anything for once, all that mattered was he and Draco. It was a nice feeling that he wished could last forever, but he knew as soon as he sobered up, reality would come crashing back down on him. All of the responsibility of being some kind of hero and the stress, the aching stress, of being treated like an outcast just because he chose to love someone people didn't think he should. He was pleased with himself for having kept up with Draco when it came to drinking, too, he knew he was likely ten times more inebriated, but he was still standing (or sitting as it were). And I'm not the one that fell out of a chair, he thought smugly.

"I'm happy, Harry. Right now, here with you, I am happy," Draco replied, his eyes shining with love.

"I'm happy, too, Draco. I don't want this day to ever end," Harry said, eyes clouding over as the knowledge that they would have to go soon came crashing back to him.

"We have to go soon," Draco spoke, echoing Harry's thoughts, the sad look that swam across his grey orbs matching the one in Harry's own green ones.

"I know. I know," was all Harry could bring himself to say. He finished his drink in one swallow, his head tilting back as he did so and making him dizzy. He somehow knew then as his head started to swim and his limbs felt at once leaden and feather-light that he had just transcended drunk and was now officially plastered. He knew he was breathing, but he couldn't even feel his breath rushing into his lungs. It was at once an interesting and wholly disquieting sensation.

Draco did the same as Harry and finished his drink, quickly pouring himself one more after that, then another. He was swaying in his seat after the third drink, now drunker than Harry. Rising unsteadily, Harry made his way carefully to where Draco sat and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go," he said gently.

Draco dropped his head against his chest in defeat. Right here, right now everything was perfect. He was with the one person he loved and they were both happy. He really, really didn't want to leave and knowing what awaited them outside and back at school did little to calm his uneasiness. "Ok," he whispered softly. Why couldn't things always be this way? Why did they have to go through so much just to try and be happy? Lifting his head, he gazed at Harry and whispered again, "Can't we just run away Harry, disappear from this hell hole?"

"I wish we could, but we can't. C'mon, my love, we have to leave," Harry said, his eyes sad and his head floating.

Draco rose from the table, staggering as he did so and nearly falling into the table. Harry grasped his arm tightly and propelled him to the bar where Nyx stood, organizing glasses. Tossing some money on the bar, he and Draco turned and made their slow, shuffling way out of the pub and into the gathering dusk.

They were both relieved to see that they were the last ones out of Hogsmeade. All of their classmates were far ahead of them on the road. Harry could just make out the flaming red of Ron's hair near the front of the crowd and Hermione's bushy brown hair beside him. He felt sadness for his lost friendships tighten in his chest for a moment until he felt a slight tug on his hand and looked to see Draco staring back at him expectantly. The unassuming look on his face made Harry smile then, he knew he was truly loved by at least one person and somehow, that made a lot of what had happened recently worth it.

They made their unsteady way out of Hogsmeade, arms wrapped tightly around each others' waist, alcohol induced apathy once again causing them to become uncaring about what lay ahead of them for the time being. Passing the bottle Draco always had at hand back and forth between them, they paused once on the way back and kissed slowly in the dying light of the autumn sun before turning back to the road and making their drunken way to Hogwarts.

A/N: Don't hate me about this chapter, this story WILL have a happy(ish) ending. I was just indulging my inner realist again. I will explain more in later chapters.

As always, I hope you like it and pretty please review. :)