Gone Awry

Gone Awry
Chapter 2 of 3


Almost as predicted, Draco refused to do anything about the thing inhabiting their house. He’d woken the next morning determined to ignore it, having been brought up on the belief that if it didn’t receive any attention, it would give up. Harry thought this plan absurd, but could do nothing to talk the Slytherin out of it. He didn’t even want to leave his lover alone in the house, but Draco just laughed at him and pushed him outside. They had one week left before they had to return to work, and Draco wanted to get the house in as close to perfect condition as they could before then. He insisted that Harry continue his progress in the garden, just as he would continue arranging the house.

Still, Harry subtly placed a few protective spells around his lover, as well as alarms in case anything happened to Draco while he was outside. Draco might have been taking everything in stride, but he wasn’t going to let anything happen to his lover. After a couple hours in the garden with nothing out of the ordinary happening, Harry was able to forget about the problems inside and concentrated on the spells for Draco’s potions plants.

The grumbling of his stomach finally drew him away from his work and he realized he’d not heard a word from Draco in nearly four hours. Forcing himself to remain calm, he returned to the house, carefully spelling away all the dirt he’d collected on his boots and clothes before going inside.

“Draco?” he asked, stepping into the kitchen, and looked to his left to find the Slytherin putting together a salad.

“Lunch is almost ready,” he said, shooting a smile at Harry. “I was going to call you in sooner, but you looked so thoroughly enveloped in the plants, I didn’t want to distract you.”

“You can distract me any time you want,” Harry grinned, kissing Draco on the cheek. “I’m going to go take a quick shower and should be back in about ten minutes.” He was almost out of the kitchen before he paused, glancing over his shoulder at his lover. “Any problems?”

“Not a one,” Draco said, then gave him an impish wink. “Those Gryffindor tackling instincts of yours must have scared it off.”

“Ha ha,” Harry glared at him, but didn’t bother to try and continue the conversation. It would only end in an argument neither of them wanted.

He trudged up the stairs, pausing only to peel off his clothes and dump them in the hamper before heading straight to the shower. He turned on the water, magically set to his perfect temperature, and stepped inside, letting it sluice over his body. He quickly washed away the grime of the morning’s work, so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the gradual raise in warmth until the steam nearly filled the bathroom. The water soon began to sting, but when he tried to adjust the temperature, it just continued to grow hotter. He reached to turn the water off, but his hand was met by an electrical shock and he yelped, jerking his hand away and holding it to his chest.

This wasn’t good.

Swallowing the panic rising in his throat, he moved to open the door, but the glass wouldn’t budge.

This definitely wasn’t good.

“Okay, Harry, remain calm,” he muttered to himself, trying to fight his growing panic. “You did not live to defeat Voldemort only to die in your shower. Think.”

As he tried to think of a solution, the water pressure increased, the burning liquid spouting everywhere and leaving him no place to hide.

Fuck thinking. It was time to panic.

“Draco!” he shouted, pounding on the door as the water scalded his skin. If he didn’t get out soon, his own shower would boil him alive. “Draco, help!”

There was no answer, only the relief of a face imprinted on the steamed-over glass, a face that grinned maliciously at his suffering.

“Go away!” Harry shouted, trying to wipe the face off the door, but the mocking grin remained. “Leave me alone!”

With all the moisture in the air and his body temperature increasing, Harry started to have trouble breathing. Spots formed before his eyes and he knew he had only a few minutes at most before he passed out. Turning to his side, he slammed his shoulder against the door. It shook, but didn’t give. He tried again, succeeding only in making himself dizzy.

“DRACO!” he cried out one last time as the darkness started to seep in, and barely had the energy to be surprised when the face disappeared.

“Harry?” The bathroom door opened and Harry nearly sobbed with relief.

“Draco, get me out of here!”

“Harry, it’s a shower,” he said, sliding the door open and turning off the water with the ease of a child. “Though it’s closer to a sauna at the moment. What were you--”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence as the Gryffindor collapsed onto the bathroom door.

“Harry!” Draco uttered a quick drying spell, then lifted him up and carried him to their bedroom. The instant he felt the cool sheets against his skin, Harry shivered. “Harry, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Hot. . . too hot. Thirsty. Need. . . water.”

Draco instantly conjured a glass of ice water and held it to his parched lover’s lips. Harry drank greedily and Draco kept refilling the glass until Harry’s head hit the pillow again. The green eyes closed and he fell into a fitful sleep.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry,” Draco said softly, smoothing the damp strands from Harry’s sweaty forehead. “This is my fault for not letting you get rid of it, but I’ll make it right, love, I promise. That thing could have fucked with me all it wanted, but the second it harmed you. . . Don’t worry, we’ll get rid of it.”

Standing up, Draco put a shielding spell around the bed. “Sleep safe, love. I’m going to go talk to Hermione. If anyone can find a way to get rid of this thing, she can.”

With one last look at Harry, Draco quietly left the room for his study down the hall where he immediately contacted Hermione through the fire.

Twenty minutes later, Harry woke from his restless doze. He sat up, peering around the room, then smiled to see Draco sitting in a chair near the window.

“Feeling better?” the Slytherin asked, immediately moving to sit next to him on the bed.

“Much, thanks to you. If you hadn’t come--”

“Shh. . .” Draco smiled, putting a finger to his lips. “I did come, and it’s all right now. Hermione’s doing research even as we speak, and soon, the house will be ours again, like it’s meant to be.”

“Are you sure?” Harry said, forehead creasing with a slight frown. “I mean, maybe this is a sign. Maybe--”

Indignation flared in the silver eyes. “Harry James Potter, don’t you say it! Don’t you even think it! Whatever is happening here has nothing to do with us! It’s coincidence, nothing more.”

Harry looked up at him, desperately needing reassurance after what had happened. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do.” Smiling, Draco leaned down to kiss Harry’s lips, then keeping his eyes locked to his lover’s, slowly slid his tongue down his neck and over his chest until he’d covered the entire length of Harry’s torso.

“Draco!” Harry gasped as the Slytherin’s tongue flicked across the tip of his cock.

“Relax, Harry,” he said. “You’ve just been through a traumatic ordeal, and I need to make you feel better.”

Though he wouldn’t have thought it possible after nearly being drowned by his own shower, Harry’s cock began to swell beneath Draco’s ministrations. Closing his eyes, he gave all his senses over to the feel of the tongue on his sensitive skin, the movement of those silky lips up and down his hardened length.

“Draco. . .” he moaned as chilly fingers began to caress his tightening balls, and a voice answered from the doorway, “Oh, bloody hell. I can’t leave you alone for two minutes without you getting into some sort of trouble, can I?”

Harry started, looking over to see Draco storm over to the foot of the bed, his eyes blazing with fury. Harry then looked down to the Draco between his legs and the creature lunged forward, transforming into a rotting corpse as it kissed his lips, then vanished.

Gagging, Harry rolled off the bed and ran towards the bathroom, then stopped at remembering what had happened the last time he’d gone in there.

“FUCK!” he shouted, slamming a hand against the doorframe. He took several deep breaths, waiting for the nausea to pass, then turned around to find Draco waiting for him, holding out a pair of trousers.

“If you wouldn’t mind. . .”

Harry quickly pulled them on, then sank to the floor, his hands buried in his hair.

“I’m assuming it’s you,” he muttered to his knees.

“Your assumption is correct,” Draco answered, icicles hanging from his words.

“I didn’t know.”

“I’m aware.”

“If I had known, I wouldn’t have. . .”

“No, I suppose not,” Draco said, sitting down in front of him. “I don’t understand what this thing is trying to do. First it tries to kill you, then it tries to give you a blow job. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What about Hermione? What did she say?”

“She’s doing the research now.”

“And what are we going to do?”

“As the Yanks would say, we’re getting the hell out of Dodge.”

Harry raised his head, his eyes narrowed as he looked at his lover. “No.”

Draco arched an eyebrow. “No?”

“I’m not going to let it win.”

“Harry,” he said shaking his head, “this is no time to play hero.”

“I’m not playing hero. I’m just not backing down to whatever the fuck it is. You were right. This is our home, this is where we belong, and nothing is going to take that away from us.”

“You know we can make a home anywhere, don’t you? I don’t care where we are, so long as we’re together.”

Harry looked up at him, green eyes softening for a moment before they hardened again. “I have defeated countless numbers of evil. One more isn’t going to kill me. Besides, I like it here. This place is perfect for us, and you know it. I’m not leaving.”

Draco sighed, his shoulders slumping with an odd combination of love and defeat. “All right. But if this turns out to be the one evil that does kill you, you can be damn well sure the last words you hear from me will be ‘I told you so’.”

“Unless it gets us both,” Harry said, his voice forcefully cheerful and earning him a dirty look.

“Since that thing is capable of breaking through our wards, maybe Snape knows something that’ll help,” Draco muttered as he stood up, heading back towards the fireplace in his study.

Harry considered going after him, but a jaw-splitting yawn made him realize how tired he was. He’d forgotten how exhausting near-death experiences could be. With another wary look at the bathroom door, Harry crawled back into bed, practically rolling himself up in the blankets to keep whatever it was from reaching him, and fell asleep.



Trying to fight off his irritation, Draco slammed closed the dusty tome and added it to the pile of other useless books Hermione had sent. He’d insisted that she ship over the books so he could help speed up the research process, but he was beginning to think he was wasting his time. He’d searched through six volumes so far, and none had given him a clue as to what was going on inside his house.

But he wasn’t going to give up.

Harry was determined to stay, and frankly, he hadn’t been too thrilled about the idea of giving up their home either, but anything that put Harry in danger wasn’t worth it. Only the Gryffindor was determined, as usual, to put himself in danger, so Draco had no other choice but to keep an eye on him, making sure he didn’t lose a limb or, considering the thing’s choice in activities, something Draco might really miss.

With an annoyed sigh, he reached for the next book with one hand, conjuring up a cup of hot tea with the other. He quickly began perusing the pages, trying to read as fast as he could without missing anything. The side of his neck began to tickle and he didn’t bother to look away from the page as he brushed away the errant strand of hair. This must have disrupted the natural fall of the silver-blond mane because an entire spot on top of his head felt out of place. He gave his head a quick shake and immersed himself in the book once more. Reaching for his tea, he paused with one hand on the cup as he came across a particularly interesting passage about curses known to feed off of its victim’s emotions. Considering everything he and Harry had experienced since moving in, there was a good possibility that they might have been providing its power source.

He was so excited about the discovery, it took him a moment to realize the skin on the back of his hand was twitching. Raising his eyes, he nearly jumped to see that he wasn’t alone. With two legs resting on his hand and six on the table, a brown spider about the size of his fist was watching him.

Draco drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening. “Look at you! I know some potions you would be perfect for. Just wait there and--”

But as Draco tried to pull his hand away, the spider jerked forward so that it now had six legs on Draco and two on the table. He tried to move again and the spider’s front legs bent as if it was preparing to jump.

“Okay,” Draco said, his stomach twisting with a hint of fear, “what are you up to, little guy?”

There was a movement in the corner of his eye, and without turning his head, he slid his gaze over to the floor at his feet. Another spider stood near his toes, watching him. There was more movement and he jerked his head towards the ceiling where yet another spider was slowly lowering itself, aimed to land directly on him. The immediate danger, however, came from movement in his hair and he felt legs brush across his forehead.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered with growing dread as large brown arachnids began crawling out of every dark corner in the room, all moving towards him, unnerving black eyes trained on him.

“Harry,” he said in a strangled voice, then cleared his throat which had grown strangely tight. “Harry!”

The spiders flinched at the sound and hastened towards him. He shivered, causing the nearest spiders to flex their legs, the one on his head twisting to get a better position.

“Very well then, no more yelling,” he murmured, silver gaze darting around him, trying to keep track of which spiders were the closest. “Maybe I should try making a break for it.”

The spider on his hand twitched, almost as if reading his thoughts and warning him not to make a move, but that decision was almost immediately taken from him. A weight landed on his shoulder and he gave a shriek of surprise. He jumped to his feet, frantically brushing at his shoulder, his head, his chest as he ran for the door. The spiders immediately scurried after him and he pulled open the door only to run directly into a giant web.

“Fuck! HARRY!” he shouted, struggling against the sticky threads. “Harry, HELP!”

He felt the thumps of spiders against his back and legs as they landed on him, causing him to struggle more and entangle himself even further.

“HAR--” His cry for help was muffled as his mouth was suddenly filled with a writhing spider. He gagged on the arachnid, not wanting to close his mouth but wanting more than anything to spit it out. Gurgles of panic emitted from the back of his throat as tiny footprints made their way over his body. Tears streamed down his face as the web got caught in his nostrils and with the spider still sitting in his mouth, his main source of air was effectively removed. He would either have to bite down or risk being smothered to death.

Clenching his eyes shut, he began to close his jaws.

“Draco?” murmured a sleepy voice. “Did you yell?”

Eyes flying open, Draco found web and spiders had disappeared and he was heading face first towards the floor. With a yelp, he caught himself just in time.

“FUCK!”

“Draco? Are you all right?” Harry asked, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. Growling, Draco jumped to his feet.

“No, I am not all right! I was just attacked by a contingent of spiders, one of which nearly turned my mouth into its new home.”

Harry looked around them, then looked back at Draco with confused eyes. “What spiders?”

“I don’t know where they went,” Draco snarled, brushing his hands over his body to try and banish the feeling of little legs crawling all over him. “I just know they were there.”

“You know, I think our ‘friend’ was playing another trick on you.”

“Yes, well, our ‘friend’ had better enjoy itself while it can,” he snapped, storming back into the room and grabbing the book he’d been reading. “Because as soon as I figure out what’s going on, it’s history.”

Harry watched as Draco sat back down, silver eyes glancing up from the pages to scour the room every few seconds, then shook his head and shuffled down the stairs. He tried to ignore the fact that eyes appeared in the walls to watch him as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Hope you enjoy the sight of me eating a sandwich,” he grumbled. Every other eye winked, and Harry sighed.

Much more of this, and he had a feeling he and Draco would be making their home in St. Mungo’s.

He walked into the kitchen and ducked as a knife flew at his head.

“Missed me!” he shouted.

“What?” Draco called from upstairs.

“Nothing!” he yelled back while giving the eyes in the walls a two-finger salute. The walls chuckled, a dark, eerie sound that made the hairs rise on the back of his neck. A shudder ran through his entire body and he did his best to block out the walls and the eyes watching him as he continued across the kitchen.



Harry sat up in the bed, arms flailing around him as he gasped for air. It took him a moment to realize he was safe in bed, not being pulled down to the bottom of an icy lake by pale blue-tinged hands. Taking several deep breaths, he turned to Draco seeking warmth only to discover the Slytherin’s side of the bed was empty.

“Draco?” He glanced to the bathroom, but the light was off. Looking towards the bedroom door, he saw that it was open a crack and figured that Draco must have gone off to do more research.

Sliding out from between the sheets, the cold air made him shiver and Harry grabbed his robe before going in search of his lover. Opening the bedroom door wide enough so he could fit through, he looked to his left, and then to his right. There was a light coming from downstairs, but when he reached the bottom of the stairs, the light began to move.

“Draco? Is that you?” he asked as he followed the light. It led him to the door which opened to the basement where Draco had set up his potions lab. “Draco, are you down there?”

The light remained steady, and with a swift glance to make sure there weren’t any nasty surprises waiting behind him, Harry stepped down into the basement. The further he went, the more the light began to flicker. The passageway quickly began to fill with smoke and he coughed, holding his arm up over his nose and mouth.

Reaching the door that led into the lab, he placed his hand on the knob then gasped, yanking it away. The metal was too hot to touch and had burnt the skin of his palm. He noticed smoke seeping through the cracks around the door and began to grow panicked.

“Draco? Draco, are you in there?!”

There was no answer.

Pulling his robe over his hand, he quickly turned the knob and forced the door open with his shoulder.

Flames and smoke poured through the entranceway and he cried out, falling backwards onto the stairs. He hurriedly regained his feet, peering through the fire to see if his lover was somewhere in the inferno.

“Draco?! Draco, if you’re in there, answer me!”

His eyes began to tear from the smoke and he wiped furiously at them as he squinted past the flames to try and spot anything remotely resembling the Slytherin. The intense heat caused his skin to stiffen and burn with unnatural warmth, and he couldn’t stop coughing. He knew he had to get out of there, but not without knowing--

“DRACO!”

Harry spotted his lover’s unmoving body lying across the main workbench, silver-blond hair spread around him, flames licking at his robes.

“Draco, don’t move! I’m coming!”

Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes and appeared at Draco’s side. Pulling the Slytherin into his arms, he apparated into the garden.

Still coughing to try and clear his lungs, he beat out the flames on Draco’s robes and brushed the hair from his lover’s face with his sooty hands. They were both covered in ash and smoke, both singed from the fire’s fury, but it was Draco who had suffered the most. The empty gaze of the silver eyes reached up into the night’s sky, not seeing the terrified face of the man looking down at him.

“Draco, no,” Harry whispered, raising the pliant head so that the blankly staring eyes met his. “Draco, look at me. Look at me, damnit! Don’t you fucking dare do this to me!”

He began coughing again and a thought occurred to him. “The smoke! You inhaled too much smoke! But I can do CPR and then you’ll be able to breathe again.”

Tilting Draco’s head back, he opened his lover’s mouth and forced air into his lungs. Draco’s chest moved up and down with each breath, but never of its own volition.

“Come on, Draco. You can do it! Fight!” Harry said as he placed his hands over the unbeating heart and tried to force life back into it. “Fight for me!”

Harry continued to create an artificial heartbeat, continued to make the lungs move with artificial breath, until his arms grew tired and his own lungs ached for air.

It was all for nothing.

The silver eyes remained unblinking, staring at the open sky, the pale body unresponsive. Finally, Harry was forced to admit defeat and he collapsed over his lover’s vacant form, shaking with grief.

“Draco, no! Come back to me! Please, you can’t leave me alone!”

His entreaties went unheard. His Draco was gone.

Raising his head, he let out a howl of such anguish that the world seemed to draw away from him, his pain too sharp for it to touch. When he lowered his head again, the green in his eyes burned, his power quickly coming forward to shine through his entire body. Glowing with this unnatural light, Harry Potter stood up and began walking purposefully across the lawn towards the house that had been destined to the beginning of their life, not the end.

He was going to find the thing that had taken Draco from him. He was going to fill it with the pain that was tearing him apart, he was going to make it experience his breaking heart, and then he was going to destroy it, even if he had to search through every brick, every stone, every slab of wood that made up their house to find it. He would bring the entire structure to the ground, and the creature with it.