The Curse

Chapter Two


*******

Without thinking of the embarrassment that it might have cause both of them, Harry carefully parted Malfoy’s cheeks and then gasped. The skin between Malfoy’s cheeks was chaffed, and his hole was swollen and dark crimson. Malfoy hissed when Harry carefully ran the cloth over his reddened skin, but Harry wasn’t going to be deterred. He had a goal now, and that was to see to it that there wouldn’t be any chance of an infection. Harry continued by lightly rubbing the soapy flannel along Malfoy's crevice, and pretended not to notice the way he was squirming underneath his cloth-covered fingers.

Now Harry was furious. Furious at the person who had caused this. The one who had caused Malfoy to be in this much pain. Not to mention the humiliation Malfoy must have experienced. It no longer mattered that this was Draco Malfoy, Harry’s long time antagonist. No one deserved to be raped.

Harry angrily separated Malfoy's cheeks further to clean his abused hole, but then cursed under his breath at his carelessness when he heard Malfoy loudly cry out. Harry then realised that the flannel was too rough for this delicate area, so he decided to try cleaning it with his bare fingers. He grazed a soapy finger around the outside, taking extra care not to prod too hard. Again Malfoy hissed, and Harry immediately pulled away and whispered, “Sorry.”

Suddenly, Malfoy screamed and doubled over with one of his arms encircling his stomach. He blindly reached out, and snatched one of Harry's hands, and yanked on it, pulling Harry so close that his head almost collided with Malfoy's. Harry tried to get away, but Malfoy had taken his hand in both of his, and drew it towards his chest. Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry's forearm, and held it tight. Harry couldn’t help but close his eyes, and take a deep breath. The smell coming from Malfoy was stronger than ever now, and Harry knew he had to say something.

“Damn it, Malfoy! What the bloody hell is going on with you?”

Malfoy didn’t answer verbally, but rather pulled hard on Harry's arm, causing Harry to lose what balance he had had. He stumbled forward, and landed over Malfoy's side with an “Oof!” Harry quickly righted himself, and tried to pull away, but Malfoy wouldn’t release him. Instead, Malfoy turned on his back, lowered both of their hands to his stomach, and began moving them in slow circles.

“Malfoy! Tell me what’s happening!”

Malfoy shook his head frantically, and streams of tears were falling from out of the corners of his eyes.

Peering up at Harry through moist eyes, Malfoy whispered, “Help me.”

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He couldn’t believe it! Malfoy was pleading with him again? He knew then that he had to fire-call Madam Pomfrey. She’d know what to do. But then Harry suddenly remembered what she had told him:

“I have left some things that will be safe for him to use.”

Perhaps the things that she brought would help Malfoy with the pain. Pomfrey surely would have foreseen all of the possibilities, and left the appropriate remedies.

“Malfoy. Malfoy, let go. I need to give you the medicine that Pomfrey left,” he said, nudging him slightly. “It will help with the pain.”

Malfoy slowly raised his eyes to look up at him. Harry had never seen anyone look so lost.

“Come on, Malfoy,” he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Take just a little bit.”

Malfoy barely nodded, and Harry gently untangled himself from Malfoy's compact grip. Since Harry knew Malfoy wouldn’t be able to sit up by himself, he sat behind him, and allowed Malfoy to fall back against his chest. By doing so, however, Malfoy's face turned towards Harry's neck, and Harry couldn’t help but shudder at the warm breath tickling over his skin. He closed his eyes again, and blindly reached over to the bedside table to retrieve the potion. Harry's arms encircled Malfoy's chest to stabilise him, uncorked the phial, and then placed it near Malfoy's lips.

“Drink slowly,” Harry said softly.

He didn’t know why he recommended that, only that it sounded logical. Malfoy wearily lifted his hand to the bottom of the bottle in a weak attempt to steady it. From that small movement alone, Harry had realised that Malfoy was moving on his own accord. He was tempted to accuse Malfoy of faking his paralysis this whole time, but he had remembered what Pomfrey had said. It would take at least an hour for Malfoy’s voluntary muscles to return to normal. Harry glanced at the clock, and had noticed that an hour had gone by. He thought briefly about ordering Malfoy to do things on his own now, but decided against it. It was obvious that Malfoy was still too weak.

After a few sips, Malfoy pulled back his head and tilted it to one side, indicating that he had swallowed enough. Harry took the bottle away, and set it down, then reached for the tube of what he assumed was some sort of lotion. Harry flushed slightly when it occurred to him what the cream was for, and where it had to be applied.

Harry gently guided Malfoy back on his stomach, and, surprisingly, Malfoy didn’t resist. Harry tried to remain detached from knowledge that he would be once again touching Malfoy in that private place, and that there would be a danger of Malfoy – and himself - reacting the same way as they had earlier. However, now that Malfoy had taken the potion, maybe they wouldn’t respond the same way. Harry smiled briefly at that thought, but then winced.

What if they did?

When Malfoy was finally positioned on the bed correctly, Harry leaned over Malfoy's legs, which had spread of their own accord again, and unscrewed the cap. He squeezed out a little cream on his right index finger, and parted Malfoy's cheek with his left hand, exposing Malfoy's entrance. Harry's finger grazed over the reddened skin and Malfoy sharply gasped. Instantly, Harry froze straightaway, afraid that he was hurting him. But when Harry had heard the way Malfoy had sighed afterwards, he knew that he wasn’t.

Harry began again by pushing into the side of Malfoy's cleft with his other thumb, whilst his pointer finger on his other hand pressed gingerly in the centre of Malfoy's opening. Harry applied the cream liberally, and Malfoy let out a low and drawn out moan, and gripped the sheets by his head. At the sound of Malfoy's voice, Harry’s eyes fluttered shut. It was mesmerising.

Without thinking, Harry pushed the first digit of his slippery finger just inside, and his breath caught in his throat. A wave of electricity had rushed throughout Harry’s body, and caused him to shiver. Bracing himself with the hand resting on Malfoy's bum, Harry unconsciously began to insert his finger, and didn’t stop until it was fully sheathed. He withdrew it halfway before slowly sliding it back in. The heat escaping from Malfoy’s skin was incredible! It felt like it was coming out of his pores, and burying into Harry's!

Harry's finger slid in and out of Malfoy, twisting every now and then. He dug his other fingers into the side of Malfoy's arse, and started pumping his hips against the edge of the bed, keeping rhythm with his thrusting finger. Harry pinched his eyebrows together, and his breathing accelerated. Oh, Merlin, he was about to come!

Suddenly, Malfoy let out an ear-piercing howl, and Harry's eyes snapped open. He blinked furiously as he came back to his senses. Harry panicked and tried to pull his hands away, but in the instant that he did, Malfoy's anus clenched down around his finger. Every muscle in Malfoy’s body locked up before collapsing bonelessly on the bed, panting hard.

When Harry was finally able to break away, he scurried backwards until his back hit the wall. He sat there gasping, watching as Malfoy's breathing returned to normal. Harry stared at Malfoy in disbelief. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that Malfoy had just… Harry quickly shook his head in denial. No, Malfoy didn’t just … orgasm. He couldn’t have! Harry hid his face in his hands, and then groaned. Yes, he did. And the worst part about it was that Harry had almost come as well!

Harry looked up and stared angrily at the semi-conscious Malfoy as if it was his fault. But unfortunately, Harry knew that deep down inside, Malfoy wasn’t doing this on purpose. He was sure that the reason for Harry's unexplained behaviour, and Malfoy's apparent orgasm, had to be from whatever had happened to Malfoy tonight. Perhaps the joke about Malfoy being struck by a curse that would have turned him into a Veela wasn’t as far-fetched as he originally thought.

Angry and humiliated, Harry jumped up, and ran out of the bedroom. He started pacing the length of the sitting room, thinking wildly.

What the bloody hell had just happened? It was obvious that Malfoy had come, but was it really from a curse? If it was, it would explain Malfoy’s behaviour, but what about Harry’s? He had responded, and the worst part was that he was still hard!

Harry let out a loud, frustrated growl, and then stormed into his small kitchen. Maybe if he got pissed enough, he could pretend that none of this had ever happened. Harry grabbed the bottle of Firewhisky, and began drinking it straight from the bottle.

*******

“Potter!”

Harry’s eyes flew open, and then tried to focus in on the angry face staring down at him.

“What are you doing lying on the floor?” Madam Pomfrey barked.

Harry reached up, and grabbed the edge of the counter. He stumbled to his feet, and swayed slightly.

“Erm,” was all that Harry managed to get out.

“I told you to watch him!”

Harry blinked several times, and then opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out save a small squeaky noise. Pomfrey glared at Harry for a bit longer, then marched out of the room. It was a full two minutes before she returned.

Furious.

“What happened?” she said, accusation clearly in her tone.

“I-I…”

“Potter, I demand to know what happened last night!”

Harry leaned against the counter, and stared at the floor, blushing. “I…he…”

“Potter!”

Harry flinched at her sharp words, then sighed and peered up through his fringe. “I just gave him a bath.”

Immediately, tension filled the small room, and Harry’s shoulders shook. He knew he had done exactly what she had told him to do, but somehow today it felt… wrong.

Finally, “Do you know what you have done?” she screamed. “Of all the irresponsible things you have done in the past, this was - ”

“But that’s what you told me to do!” Harry argued.

“I did not tell you to bathe him! I told you to clean him, and I would have hoped that you knew which part of his body to clean!”

“I-I...” Harry stuttered before looking away ashamed.

There was a long silence.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Well, I just hope you realise what this means.”

“No, I don’t!” Harry instantly spouted. “So why don’t you tell me!”

“You sped up the curse!”

Harry’s eyes bulged. He had guessed right?

“The curse?” Harry whispered. “W-what curse?”

Pomfrey clenched her teeth. “That will be Mr Malfoy’s responsibility to tell you.” She held up a hand when she saw Harry open his mouth to argue. “However, I will instruct him to do so.”

With that, she spun on her heels and left. Harry could hear the two of them shouting in the distance. Pomfrey reappeared, looking extremely agitated.

“I will be back this evening,” she said sharply, and turned to leave.

“Wait!” Harry cried.

But it was too late. She disappeared without another word spoken.

“Argh!”

Harry stormed into the bedroom.

“All right, Malfoy! Tell me what the bloody hell is going on!”

“Piss off, Potter.”

“Tell me!”

Malfoy pulled the duvet up to his shoulders, and turned to face the wall. Harry stood there shaking.

“Fine!” Harry shouted. “I’ll be back for lunch, and when I get back, you better have a good enough answer!”

Malfoy quickly rolled over, and looked at him with horrified eyes.

“What? You’re leaving?” Malfoy exclaimed.

“Yes, I’m leaving, you prat! Some of us work for a living!”

Malfoy opened and closed his mouth.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Malfoy looked down and shook his head solemnly. “Then I’ll be back in a few hours. I’m already late.”

*******

Harry was sitting quietly at his desk at the Ministry when he felt it. Someone had broken through his wards at his flat! He jumped up, and ran to the fireplace just outside of his office. He threw the Floo powder down, and disappeared behind a cloud of green smoke. As soon as Harry stepped out into his sitting room, he could hear Malfoy. He was crying. Crying, for Merlin's sake!

Harry burst into his bedroom, and found Malfoy naked on the floor, sobbing hysterically. Harry noticed there was blood running down the inside of Malfoy's thighs. It was apparent that someone had tried to rape Malfoy again. Harry landed hard on his knees, and shook Malfoy’s shoulders.

“Malfoy! Malfoy, what happened?” Harry screamed.

“Y-you …left… me,” Malfoy said between sobs. “You left me.”

Harry instinctively lifted Malfoy, and held him in his arms tightly.

“Shh, I’m here now.”

Harry rocked him back and forth, unconsciously stroking his arms. After a few minutes, Harry helped Malfoy up and onto the bed. He started to move away, but Malfoy instantly grabbed his hand.

“S-stay,” Malfoy whispered.

Harry didn’t know why, but he nodded and lay down next to him, covering Malfoy with the duvet, and cradling Malfoy in his arms once again. It was an hour before Malfoy stopped shaking, and another before they both fell fast asleep.

*******

Harry jerked awake, and it took a moment to get his bearings and realise where he was. He had had the oddest dream, but strangely, he couldn’t remember it. Harry glanced down his body, and saw Malfoy’s head resting on his chest, and his leg was entwined with his. Harry panicked, and wanted to push Malfoy away, but a part of himself told him not to. So instead, Harry gently nudged the sleeping man.

“Malfoy,” he whispered. “Malfoy, wake up.”

When the only response was a soft snore, Harry closed his eyes, and took a deep, cleansing breath. Instantly, a familiar aroma filled Harry’s nostrils, and he could feel himself harden. As if on cue, Malfoy pressed his groin against Harry’s side, and slowly rotated his hips. Harry began to squirm. The desire to get off was consuming him. Harry scrambled away, and landed on the floor with a thud.

“Stop that!” Harry said, more to himself than to Malfoy.

Malfoy fell forward on the bed, hid his face in the pillow, and began to tremble. “Please,” Malfoy moaned weakly. “Please, finish it. I don’t want him to be the father.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat. “W-what did you say?”

Draco turned his head, and looked at Harry through tear-filled eyes. “R-rather you than him,” Malfoy whispered.

Harry sprang to his feet, and started shaking him. “What the hell did you just say?” Harry screamed.

Malfoy closed his eyes tightly. “Please, Potter.”

Harry gasped, released Malfoy, and ran to the sitting room’s fireplace.

“Hermione’s!”

*******

As to be expected, Hermione screamed when she saw Harry burst into her small Muggle flat.

“Harry! What in Merlin’s blood do you think you're doing by barging in here at three o’clock in the morning!”

Harry stopped short. His eyes widened and stood there staring at her. Three o’clock in the morning? Had Malfoy and him slept that long? Impossible! What the hell happened to Madam Pomfrey? She had said she was going to stop by. Had she already, and then decided to leave after she saw them sleeping… together? Harry shook his head to clear it. He’d have to find out about that later when he’d see her again.

“You have to help me!”

*******

Harry spent the next hour pacing back and forth in Hermione's small sitting room, explaining everything that had happened. Everything save the physical reactions Harry had felt anyway. She sat in her dressing gown, nodding every now and then, patiently waiting for Harry to finish. Once he was done, Harry plopped down unceremoniously onto her sofa. Hermione looked at him thoughtfully.

“So,” she began slowly. “You’re telling me that Malfoy is at your place, and that he was struck with the Heir Curse.”

“Yes!” Harry said quickly, then stopped and blinked. “The …WHAT?” Harry bellowed.

“The Heir Curse,” she repeated calmly.

“What the bloody fuck is that?”

Hermione took a deep breath – the kind of breath Harry knew all too well. It was the kind she always did before going into a huge lecture.

“In ancient times, when a son refused to produce an heir of his own, his father would place a curse on him.” Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione stopped him with a wave of her hand. “Let me finish, Harry,” she said curtly.

Harry reluctantly nodded, but then spoke up anyway. “Why would a father curse his own son?”

Hermione made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. “There are numerous reasons. It could be that, for whatever reason, the son did not want to continue the family name. Most commonly, however, it was because the son was a homosexual.”

“Are you saying that Lucius Malfoy struck Malfoy with that ...that… curse?”

“It seems so.”

“And that Malfoy is… is …gay?” Harry said in a half-whisper.

“It makes sense.”

“Gay?” he repeated.

Hermione frowned. “You look surprised.”

“W-well, yeah!”

Hermione shook her head. “Honestly, Harry. Everyone knows that Malfoy is gay.”

“But, but, but…Malfoy?”

Hermione suddenly scowled. “What bothers you more, Harry?” she asked crisply. “That Malfoy’s gay or…” She paused to sneer at Harry. “Are you just repulsed with homosexuals in general?”

“Yes! I mean no! Not about homosexuals, but about Malfoy being one!”

“I see,” Hermione said coldly.

Harry shook his head frantically. “I’m serious! I’m not a homophobe, I’m just…” Harry stopped and sighed. “Surprised.” He decided it was time to quickly change the subject. “Malfoy said that he didn’t want ‘him’ to be the father. Who is ‘him’?”

“Obviously, somebody who was hand-picked by Mr Malfoy.”

“And Malfoy – Draco – wants me to be the father?”

Hermione nodded. “The spell must not have been completed when you found him, and so, if you were the first to -”

“But I wasn’t! I told you! Someone was there before me, remember? There was blood and - ”

“Well, whoever it was, must have been – if you’ll excuse the expression – ‘turned off’ by the blood, and wasn’t able to consummate,” Hermione said. “Either that or the curse repelled him because it was too soon.”

“What do you mean, ‘too soon’?”

“Once an Heir Curse has been placed, the victim will be placid enough so the intended can consummate without any disruptions from the victim. However, if done too soon – within the first fifteen minutes – the quarry won't be ready.”

“Ready?”

“For insemination,” Hermione said simply.

Reality finally hit Harry. “Wait a minute! Insemination? Malfoy is a guy!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, what do you think the Heir Curse does to the victim?” Seeing a blank look on Harry's face, she answered for him. “The Heir Curse changes the male body’s internal organs to accommodate the unborn child.”

“Y-you mean…?”

“Yes, Harry. Malfoy is growing a uterus.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. The pain, the screaming, their two hands rubbing on Malfoy's stomach…

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“What will happen if the curse is not fulfilled?”

“Well, that usually doesn’t happen,” Hermione stated.

“Why not?”

“Because the curse will eventually recognise a father.”

“And that someone is me?” Harry asked nervously.

“Not necessarily. Malfoy only requested that it would be you. That alone can’t bind you, simply because it is the curse that will choose, and, in order for the curse to recognise you as the father, physical contact must be made,” Hermione finished confidently.

Harry blushed deep red. “What kind of contact?”

Hermione frowned and raised a curious brow. “Harry, is there something you haven't told me yet?”

“No!” Harry said immediately.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, and stared at him for a moment before her mouth dropped open. “Harry James Potter! What did you do?” she screeched.

“Nothing!” he yelled defensively.

“Then what happened?” she asked, half-yelling.

Harry stood up, and started pacing again. “Pomfrey said Malfoy needed a bath, well, she didn’t say bath, she said clean him, but I thought she meant bath, so I…” Harry paused, then added quietly, “bathed him.”

Hermione studied Harry briefly, then asked slowly, “Harry, did you or Malfoy orgasm during that time?”

Harry’s face flushed. “Erm… I think he did,” he whispered.

Hermione hid her face in her hands. “Merlin's blood,” she mumbled. She sat up, and looked Harry straight in the eye. “The curse now has a father.”

There was a moment of silence before Harry screamed, “WHAT?”

Hermione nodded. “I’m afraid so, Harry.”

“What if I refuse?” he cried.

Hermione looked at him sadly. “Do you really want to know?”

Harry began pacing again. “He’ll die, won't he? That’s what you're going to tell me, isn’t it? That he’ll die?”

Hermione could only nod.

Harry waved his arms about. “Oh, that’s great! That’s just bloody great! Harry Potter has to be the saviour once again! Fucking great! I thought I could just live my life in peace. Have a normal life for once, and grow old with no worries!” He turned to Hermione. “All I have ever wanted was a family that I never had, and don’t you dare say, ‘now here’s your chance’!”

Hermione tried to suppress a grin.

“What will Ginny say? What will the Wizarding world say? Oh, I know what everyone will say!”

“Harry,” Hermione began softly. “Don’t forget that the real victim is Malfoy.”

“Oh, right,” Harry drawled. “I’m just the ‘father’ or whatever you call it. And Malfoy – Lucius – will get exactly what he wanted! An heir!”

“Well, technically, he won't.”

Harry stopped pacing, and spun around to face Hermione. “Of course, he will!”

“Harry, do you know why no one uses the Heir Curse anymore?” Harry shook his head. “Because only 5% of the babies come out male.”

Harry stared at her with a blank expression.

Hermione scoffed. “That means that 95% of the babies will be female, and therefore, when they marry, will lose the family name!” she said, voice rising to make a point.

“But wouldn’t Mr Malfoy have known what the odds were when he placed the curse on Malfoy?”

“Oh, I’m sure he did. But he is probably arrogant enough to believe that he would be one of the 5%.”

Harry nodded. “That sounds about right.” He frowned and thought a minute. “But if I’m the father, and not Malfoy, wouldn’t the…” He paused to gulp, “…baby have my last name, anyway?”

“No. Malfoy may be the ‘mother’, but he is also considered the father as well.”

“Great. I’m just the ‘donor’,” Harry mumbled. He walked over to the sofa and sat down. “What should I do, Hermione?” he asked uncertainly.

Hermione sighed heavily. “I wish I could tell you, but I can't. That decision is up to you.”

Harry hung his head. “I knew you'd say that.”

Hermione stood up, walked over to Harry, and kneeled at his feet. She rubbed his shoulder.

“Harry,” she whispered. “I know this is a hard choice to make, but - ”

“There is no other choice, is there?” Harry snapped, interrupting her. “Malfoy will die if I don’t complete the curse, won't he?”

Hermione looked at the floor. “Yes,” she whispered. “The uterus that the curse made will demand a foetus, and if it does not receive one…” She paused to meet Harry's eyes. “The pain will eventually kill Malfoy.”

Harry thought for a moment, and then looked up at Hermione.

“What if I can't… you know? I mean, I’m not…”

Hermione looked at him curiously. “Harry, when you were with Malfoy, did you feel… different? Behave differently?”

Harry flushed, remembering. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “But only when I was close to him,” he added.

Hermione nodded. “I thought so. The curse is making Malfoy… inviting for you.”

“So what I felt was from the curse?” Hermione nodded again. “Is that why he smelled?”

“Smelled?”

“Yeah. He smelled. It seemed really familiar, but I can't remember where I had smelt it before.”

“It’s a female scent, Harry. Malfoy has female hormones now.”

Harry scrunched up his face. “Hormones smell?” he asked, appalled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Women have a distinct smell just like men do.”

“We do?”

“Honestly, Harry.”

For the first time that night, Harry smiled, but it was short lived. He glanced over at Hermione, frowning.

“Well, there’s only one thing left to do then, isn’t there?” Harry said tiredly.

Hermione leaned closer, and wrapped her arms around Harry.

*******