Broken Toy

Warnings: angst, violence, abuse, some romance, hurt/comfort, simply NC17…
Author's Notes:
It was a difficult chapter. I had to rewrite a lot before I was satisfied at last. And I had to do something which… well, read for yourself.

Enjoy the next chapter (if you can, that is, whahaha)!

Chapter Twenty-Three

“That was good!” Harry stretched out comfortably and held his full stomach. It was Saturday, and Harry savoured his day off thoroughly.

They were resting beneath their special tree on the hill, enjoying the sunny afternoon. The heat wasn’t as oppressing as it had been for the last few days, so they had decided to sleep long, skip breakfast, and take a picnic out.

Just when they had been ready to go, Harry received an owl announcing his appointment at the Wizengamot on September 30th. Marriage or vow? Keep the appointment or cancel it? These decisions had been successfully suppressed for a long time, but now were suddenly all too present again. “We will talk about it later,” Harry had said. But actually, they hadn’t.

Harry surveyed the peaceful surroundings. Draco lay at his side, just as lazy and as sated as he himself was. Despite the warm weather the dogs were frolicking as usual, and a light breeze was caressing their skin. They had unbuttoned their shirts, both pretending it was far too hot, but in reality they just enjoyed the sight of their bare chests and nipples and skin.

Harry sighed. He was happy. Of course he couldn’t completely forget all the unsolved problems, but right now, with Draco at his side, he felt happy.

Although he definitely had eaten enough, Harry got up and grabbed for an apple. Propping his head up on his bent arm, he bit into it heartily. It had to be a juicy one, and hastily he tried to lick off some of the fluid running down his chin. His eyes met Draco’s. At once Harry blushed vehemently when he saw the unconcealed hunger in Draco’s eyes.

“Let me do it…” Draco leaned in and licked the rest of the juice off. Naturally the apple rolled out of Harry’s hand and was soon forgotten. Who would bother with fruits when such incredible soft lips were caressing one’s own?

Their kisses were tender and gentle, and Harry smiled happily when after a while Draco rested his head on Harry’s chest, stroking his nipple lightly with his fingertips.

Harry’s heartbeat sped up, and he was convinced that Draco must hear it hammering against Harry’s ribcage. He swallowed. He didn’t know why he was sure all of a sudden. He had to tell him right away.

“Draco?”

“Hm?”

“I…” Damn. Why did he have to stutter all of the time?

“Draco, I’m ready.”

“Huh?” Draco got up to get a better look at Harry’s face.

“I said I’m ready.” Blood poured into Harry’s face when he had to repeat his words. “I mean…” Damn it! “I want you to…” Draco’s eyes widened in disbelief then silenced him with an extraordinarily tender and deep kiss.

Then Draco smiled at him. Harry’s heart did a somersault.

“Are you really sure?” Draco placed a little kiss on Harry’s nose when Harry nodded shyly, but determinedly.

“Not here. Let’s go home. I want this to be special.” Harry was grinning like a Cheshire cat when Draco sprang up and motioned him to follow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was still smiling when he stepped through the French windows of the living room. As he was the first to enter, Draco bumped right into him and knocked his chin into the back of Harry’s head when Harry stopped abruptly in his pace.

The living room, their sacred island of peace and undisturbed intimacy, was crowded with people.

Instinctively Harry had his wand at the ready straight away.

“Harry!” Brown curls were tickling his nose when Hermione slung her arms around him. “Please, don’t be angry.”

But Harry was angry. He simply hated to be surprised by uninvited visitors. Only his best friends knew how to Apparate at his home, and until today they had respected his wish that no one turned up without prior notice.

“What the fuck…?” Harry broke the embrace roughly. He tried to observe the room, but Hermione was blocking his view, standing in front of him with her arms outstretched.

“We’ve got some news! Thorington spilled Pickles’ first name. Isn’t it great? At last we know what the scrawl in his signature means. As you know, you got them all pretty scared after what had happened to Perkins. You did right to question Thorington again yesterday. Last night he…”

“Are you kidding me, Hermione?” Lividly Harry flung his wand on the sofa and grabbed her wrists. “It’s ‘Lander’. Lander Pickles. Of course I got informed already. I’m in touch with the Hit Wizard in charge all of the time. You know that. So what the fuck are you playing at?”

Hermione flinched. “Don’t freak out, please, let me explain…” His fury got the better of him, and Harry shoved Hermione unceremoniously aside and surveyed the room quickly.

Ron was leaning against the fireplace, arms crossed in front of his chest, glaring defiantly at Harry. The minute Harry met his eyes, Ron laid one arm protectively around Ginny’s shoulders, who was standing close to him. Harry ignored her apologetic look and inhaled sharply when his eyes set on Fred and George joining the couple. Right behind them Blaise and Neville stood, apparently embarrassed.

Blaise? Blaise Zabini??? Hot anger exploded somewhere inside his stomach, and it took all of his self-control not to shout. But here was Hermione, one of his rare, true friends. He had to be, he wanted to be reasonable.

“Right,” Harry turned slowly toward Hermione again. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t restrain his agitation completely. His nostrils were flaring slightly; and although he tried his best to act agreeably, he couldn’t prevent hissing his next words through clenched teeth. “Enlighten me. And make your explanation good. I’m curious, very curious, how you will justify the betrayal of my private quarters. No offence taken, I hope, Blaise.” Harry nodded into the direction of Zabini, but kept on fixating Hermione’s flushed face.

How dare they bring Blaise along? He was an outsider, after all. And Hermione knew for a fact that Harry didn’t trust him. He just couldn’t stand him. It wasn’t Zabini being a former Slytherin. The days of Hogwarts and children’s animosities were long gone by now. Plus Harry was sure he wasn’t prejudiced by Zabini’s questionable parentage. He didn’t give a damn about the rumours that Zabini’s mother was supposed to have killed off several husbands, including Blaises’s father. He just couldn’t stand him.

Yes. Harry was definitely angry. And he had not even thought about Fred and George being here.

Distinctive unease joined his rage. He wanted some trivial explanation, and he wanted it now. Stubbornly he refused to listen to his instincts. No! There was nothing, there couldn’t be anything to jeopardize the fragile state of happiness. Draco?

“Harry, I’m sorry,” Hermione cleared her throat. She looked up at him pleadingly. “Blaise is here as a witness. I – we – thought that you might want a confirmation first hand after you informed yourself about what was said in a certain conversation.”

Ron moved as if he wanted to state something, but kept silent.

“What exactly are you trying to tell me?” Harry’s voice was calm. He even managed to grin. It was about time to perform his well proven breathing technique again.

Hermione bit her lower lip. Noticing her hesitation made Harry even more nervous, and suddenly he was afraid.

“I told you!” Ron broke out and took a step forward. “Harry! Mate! How could you… How could you get yourself involved with scum like this? Malfoy. Hah!” He spat out on the floor.

“Ronald!!” Hermione’s disapproval was evident, her eyes were sparkling. “We all agreed that I was going to handle this.” Ron closed his mouth instantly, but Harry didn’t notice. He had turned around; his eyes were searching for Draco.

Harry had to take in a deep breath and exhaled slowly with deliberation. Draco’s face had lost all colour. Nothing was left of the new, healthy suntan; the freckles on his nose stood out in extreme contrast to the pale complexion Harry knew so well from the past.

Harry ignored his fast beating heart. He looked up at Draco imploringly. Their eyes locked briefly, but that was enough. Harry smiled softly when he could read uncertainness and bewilderment in Draco’s gorgeous grey eyes, matching Harry’s own confusion.

At once Harry reached out and touched Draco’s cheek gently, trying to give him all the reassurance Harry badly needed himself. When the grey eyes smiled reluctantly back at him, Harry grinned broadly. He raised one eyebrow and pursed his lips to feign a kiss. Taking Draco’s hand into his to show them once and for all, Harry turned around again.

“Tell me, Hermione,” the urge to giggle was almost overwhelming. “What is it only you can handle?” Whatever it was, it couldn’t touch them.

The unease was back the minute Hermione retorted businesslike, “I don’t want to waste any more time on useless explanations.” She turned around. “Fred? George?”

The twins had undoubtedly waited for some kind of signal; they rushed out and returned in no time with an object Harry knew too well.

It was one of the items of Dumbledore’s legacy: Dumbledore’s Pensieve, now Harry’s Pensieve. Sudden fear blotted out his once more burgeoning rage. Harry kept Dumbledore’s, his Pensieve, well secure at his office at the Ministry. How dare they lay hands on one of his most valuable possessions?

Without forewarning, fury raged through Harry again like hot, liquid metal.

He didn’t like everybody gaping at him expectantly; he detested being the center of attention. He couldn’t stand that everybody seemed to know more than he did; he had had enough of this shit all through his student years, thank you very much. He was fed up with his heart pounding too fast in his chest; he just wanted peace and to be left alone. He loathed the feeling of being manipulated; he despised being forced to witness someone else’s memory, he had had enough of that, too. He hated being Harry Potter, the chosen-one, who was able to handle anything; he, for Merlin’s sake, wanted to be just Harry! He felt like puking all over the floor when thinking about…

The pressure of a warm hand, squeezing his own, brought him back to his senses. Draco.

“Harry!” Hermione was speaking. Trying to get his self-control back, breathing as consciously as possible, Harry returned the squeeze of Draco’s hand. There was nothing, there couldn’t be anything to…

“You’ve got to see it and judge for yourself,” Hermione continued. Her voice was sad but still gentle. Ron handed her a small crystal phial, and she uncorked it quickly. With her wand, Hermione tipped the silvery contents of the phial into the bowl. The memory swirled around slowly in the ancient stone basin, and Harry couldn’t help staring at every movement of the silvery substance. There was nothing, there couldn’t be anything. Why couldn’t they accept that he wasn’t the least interested in that blasted piece of memory? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to see it.

“Remember Ginny’s birthday party?”

Of course Harry did. He had some very vivid memories of that event! Another wave of fury rushed through his insides. He forced himself to detach his hypnotised stare and focussed on Hermione. It turned out to be difficult to speak his mind without a tremble in his voice. “I was there, remember? And I saw enough. I don’t want to…”

“Not what happened later on,” Hermione interrupted him with her maddening gentle tone. “Before…” She took his hand and motioned him toward the stone basin. “I will go along, if you want me to. Please, Harry, let me accompany you.”

Harry definitely felt sick. His instinct told him to shout and throw the whole bunch out. But there simply couldn’t be anything to endanger the happy state of his life, right?

Clenching his teeth resolutely, Harry shook off the hands holding onto him. He stepped up to the Pensieve and pushed his head right through the swirling, silvery surface of the memory. At once he underwent the familiar sensation of falling through darkness and instinctively closed his eyes.

When his feet hit solid ground, he knew where he had landed before he opened his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The living room of Grimmauld Place was crowded with numerous guests celebrating Ginny’s birthday. Shaking off the strange feeling of deja vu, Harry turned his head toward the two chairs right beside him. Hermione and he were chatting in a relaxed way. For one moment Harry watched himself curiously. Really, he had actually behaved like a complete fool! Harry had to grin. Although the Harry in the memory was talking amiably with Hermione, his eyes wandered off every now and then toward the spot where Draco was standing. Harry blushed when he saw himself staring intently at Draco. The expression on his face couldn’t be misinterpreted.

His blush deepened. Quickly Harry surveyed the room. Ron was talking with Neville, Dean was snogging Demelza. Justin was chatting up Parvati. Ernie. Luna. Seamus. Fred and George. Harry was relieved. Nobody had noticed him making sheep’s eyes. Good.

The roaring laughter of Seamus and the twins reminded him why he was here. The amused smile faded from his face. Gritting his teeth, he walked right over to the living room door where the long-haired, blond young man had started a conversation with the strikingly handsome, dark-skinned guy.

“I see you prospered after the Dark Lord’s downfall?” Harry heard Draco asking.

“I see you are doing all right, too?” Blaise raised an arrogant eyebrow.

Harry stood right beside Draco, and he noticed Draco’s bewilderment with affection.

“What do you mean?” Harry was delighted by Draco’s reaction. Draco tossed his long blond hair back with a contemptuous gesture as only a condescending Malfoy could. Harry would have never expected it, but he was pleased to see Draco’s lips curl into a sneer. “You mean I was doing all right after you shut your door right in front of my face when I needed your help?” Draco produced an artificial laughter. Harry beamed with pride.

“Not that you were the only one…” another toss of Draco’s head. “I presume you are acquainted with my career, starting after everybody let me down?” Draco raised an eyebrow, examining Blaise’s face closely. When the other nodded, Draco chuckled without humour. ”I’m a whore. I’m offering my ass to anybody who wants to shag it. And, what’s more important, who is willing to pay the price that’s demanded. I am perfect at my profession, so logically the price is adequately high.“

Blaise wiped some nonexistent fluff off his fancy dinner jacket. Draco seemed to enjoy Blaise’s apparent embarrassment, although he hid his satisfaction par excellance. However, Harry recognized it by the almost inconspicuous sparkle in Draco’s grey eyes. Thoroughly amused, Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest. His heartbeat had returned to normal, and he felt absolutely relaxed. He should have known there couldn’t be anything dramatic to be witnessed in this conversation.

Draco’s eyes squinted slightly. “However, I can’t help being who I am. No Malfoy forgets. And no Malfoy forgives.”

“Ah, come on, Draco, Slytherin pals stick together, don’t they?” Blaise was impudent enough to stroke Draco’s fringe out of his face. Harry remembered only too well observing the scene and what he had felt at that precise moment. His vision got blurred; jealousy was blinding him once more. Harry had to blink several times to get a clear view of what was going on.

“Yes. Of course.” A smirk played around Draco’s lips. The volume of his voice had increased. “We know where our loyalties lie, don’t we?”

“Loyalties? Err, sorry, but what exactly do you mean by that?” Apparently Blaise was at a loss, and so was Harry. Involuntarily he leaned forward.

“Come on, Blaise. We both know that you admired the Dark Lord and adored his doctrines. And I bet you still do, don’t you?” Harry forgot to breathe when Draco winked conspiratorially.

“Sorry, but I still…” Blaise started, but was cut off by Draco, pushing his long hair behind his ear with an impatient gesture.

“No need to pretend, Blaise. I know that you fraternized with the Mudbloods and Blood-traitors, but you still despise them! Just like you loathed the scum when we were at Hogwarts. Remember? You were a Death-Eater heart and soul! Just like me.” Blaise opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a dismissive motion of Draco’s hand.

Draco nodded with sympathy. “I know. We have got to be cautious. We don’t use phrases like ‘Mudbloods’ any more. They are friends now, our equals! The fuck they are... However, I know just like you do, this unedifying, twisted new order won’t last forever. We are used to patience, aren’t we? We will bide our time… just like we did before. And in the meantime…” Draco grinned knowingly. “So by now you have re-established your reputation and standing? Well done. That’s what we need: people in influential positions, a vast amount of ready money to bribe and finance, and of course the right attitude.” Draco’s grin broadened. “And, by the way, you were accurate when you stated I am doing all right!”

Harry’s lungs cried out for oxygen. He hadn’t noticed that he had held his breath for such a long time; he had simply forgotten to breathe. Gasping for air like a fish deprived of water, Harry stared wide-eyed at Draco. Biding his time? Twisted new order? And he… he was grinning? No. That couldn’t be. That just couldn’t… No. He… Draco?

“You are?” Blaise asked faintly. “How? Tell me!” Blaise seemed to need an answer as urgently as Harry. But no, that was wrong. Blaise was watching Draco expectantly, but calmly, whereas Harry was desperately struggling to get his breathing under control again. In vain. Something was constricting his throat, making it hard to catch air; and his heart was pounding like thunderous drumbeats in his ears.

He wanted to shout, to holler, to rave, but the only sound Harry was able to manage was a low, agonized moan.

“It won’t be long and I will get back everything I have lost.” Draco nodded. His eyes were half closed, and he looked utterly pleased with himself. “I just have to play out my cards with deliberation, and I will achieve even more than I possessed before!”

Harry’s head started to shake his head. No. He didn’t want to listen any more; he didn’t want to see Draco’s smug face any more, he couldn’t cope with being betrayed and exploited once again. He wanted to turn and run, run, run; no matter where, simply away from here, far away.

But he remained standing with his arms embracing his chest, he had to stay here, hugging himself as tightly as he could, slowly rocking back and forth, knowing that he would have to remain until the memory was over, knowing that he hadn’t even heard the worst, knowing that Draco’s next words would destroy everything he had ever believed in.

The last weeks had been just too good to be true.

Harry’s smile was miserable. He swallowed hard then smiled again. He was ready for the final blow.

“You see that imbecile over there?” Draco motioned backward with his head into the direction of the memory-Harry chatting with Hermione, blissfully ignorant. “He’s my return ticket!”

“Return ticket?” Blaise repeated nonplussed.

Harry hung on to the irrational delusion that whatever he was to hear next would hurt less if he listened to it with a smile on his face. So he kept on smiling, not being surprised at all when Draco snickered.

“Right. Would you believe it? Harry Perfect Potter, rescuer of the Wizarding world, defender of the Mudbloods, will help me. Me!” Draco sighed exaggeratedly. “He’s so simple-minded… He’s so naïve, it actually hurts! He can be deceived so easily, you don’t have to be an extraordinary actor to have him fooled!”

“Tell me more!” Blaise showed interest.

Harry’s frozen smile was troubling him now; the corners of his mouth started to tremble slightly with tension. But with grim determination, he kept on smiling.

“Oh, you just have to tell him some sob stories, and he will pity you. You know, Blaise, how imaginative I can become! My best stories always had been about my miserable past, remember? And if you are convincing, which, as I told you, doesn’t take much effort, he will even want to adopt you. He is just crazy about lost and mistreated creatures! And then you just have to add some tender care… You will have his entire devotion forever.” Draco chortled. “But the best thing is… his in-no-cence!” Draco had problems to pronounce the last word properly; his amusement got the better of him. He burst out laughing.

“Little Harrykins is a virgin!” Draco almost choked on guffawing. “Oh, yes, he has shagged before… But he hasn’t got the slightest idea what it is like to fuck.” Draco clapped his hand heartily on Blaise’s shoulder. “I already turned him on. Just touched his prick and his hormones turned wild like a teenager. Can you imagine that? Blaise! I still can’t believe it.” Draco’s sneer was malicious. “Just a prediction by someone who ought to know: It will take me a few days, a week at least, and all his retarded brain can think of will be wanting to fuck me as often as he possibly can. And then…”

Blaise raised a questioning eyebrow.

“…he will be mine completely. He will fall for me, body and soul,” Draco grinned complacently. “It’s so easy, almost too easy, not what I would call a real challenge, you know? He will be dependent on me in no time. And when he’s ready, he is going to marry me.” Draco nodded smugly. “Little Harrykins is going to provide me with his vast fortune, standing, and reputation. He will do anything to gain me access to the Wizarding world again. You know what I can do then to help our cause!”

Draco chuckled. “And there’s a little add-on to sweeten my endeavours! At last I’ll get the revenge I was hoping for such a long time. You know how much I despised filthy, daft Half-blood Potter at Hogwarts! It will do me good to exploit him shamelessly. Vengeance will be so sweet!“

Draco’s expression went hard, and his lips curled in disgust. “I just hope I will be able to endure his clumsy strokes until he has married me…His wet hands make me want to puke every time he touches me.”

Without forewarning, the memory ended. Harry’s paralyzed body was soaring up through the familiar darkness back into the present.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry found himself on his hands and knees, staring at the wooden floor of his living room. Except for the roaring noise in his ears it was deadly quiet.

Maybe all of them had left? But Harry knew that everybody was staring at him; he could actually sense their pitiful eyes upon his back. Everybody knew, had known before him, what the memory was about.

His stomach turned, but he didn’t retch.

He tried to get up.

He failed.

It didn’t matter.

He tried again.

This time he got up and stood.

Draco.

Harry stared ahead, but his brain didn’t register what his eyes took in. His expression was blank. There simply wasn’t anything that could be expressed.

He didn’t feel anything.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Funny…

“Harry?”

He didn’t want to listen. He didn’t want to talk, nor meet anybody’s eyes.

“Harry!”

Please Hermione; don’t make me have to respond. I don’t want to. I can’t. I just can’t.

Draco.

Suddenly everybody talked at once, getting into his line of vision, demanding his attention, even touching him.

“Mate, I told you! I told you that he’s scum, but you preferred not to listen!” - “Please, Harry, look at me!” - “Shall we punch him?” - “Yeah, let’s punch him!!!” – “I’m first.” – “No, I want to be first.” – “Harry, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” – “Harry, let me help you…” – “He isn’t worth it, he’s scum!”

His ears were ringing. However, Harry could hear their voices loud enough. But he didn’t want to listen.

Draco.

“Get out,” his voice was low.

“He will be arrested, it’s clear.” – “Right, his return ticket will be a ticket to Azkaban.” – “He will be charged with high treason, collaborating with Death-Eaters, it’s clear.” – “Planning to upset the new order of the Wizarding World.” – “I’m sorry, Harry, but it’s criminal.” – “There is no other way.”

“Get out,” he repeated, as low as before.

“We will summon the Aurors straight away.” – “Dark Magic, you know.” – “The sooner he’s sent off to Azkaban, the better.” – “Scum, nothing but scum!” – “Don’t you worry, he will be gone in no time…”

“GET OOOOUUUUT!!!”

At least they were quiet now.

But no one moved. They just stood and gaped at him. He couldn’t stand their stares for one moment longer, pitying him.

“FINE! If you don’t want to leave, I’LL GO!” Harry turned on his heels.

“Follow me!” he hissed at Draco as he passed him. He wasn’t able to meet his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry marched ahead without being able to stop, with Draco and Jack-o following at his heels.

He passed the garden, crossed the path, and headed towards the barn. He could have marched on forever, but that would solve nothing. He knew what he had seen, knew what he had heard, but he still couldn’t believe it. He cursed himself for feeling so naïve and cursed himself again for being so good-hearted that he couldn’t believe what the Pensieve had shown. He had to ask Draco; he had to know for sure.

Behind the barn, Harry stopped and whirled around. Draco had trotted dutifully right behind him, so he bumped right into Harry the moment he turned around. The sudden, intimate contact with Draco’s body hit Harry as if being electrified.

Instantly, he jumped a step back, holding his hands up to fend off any further coincidental touch. There wasn’t any way to prevent looking up at Draco’s face; it happened naturally. Draco’s anxious expression almost drove him insane.

“Stop it!” This wasn’t how Harry had intended to confront Draco.

“Stop what?” Draco furrowed his brow; his eyes showed nothing but concern. His hand reached out to touch Harry’s face. But Harry’s reaction was quick, his head yanked sideways as he took another step backwards. He almost stumbled over Jack, who was busily sniffing at something only dogs were able to notice.

Ignoring the hurt look on Draco’s face, Harry spat out, “I presume you know where my trip into the Pensive went?”

Draco shrugged his shoulders. “Well… Ginny’s birthday party. That much I could…”

Harry cut him short. He felt cold, and his voice was bare any emotion. “Right. Ginny’s birthday party. It was Blaise’s memory. You were talking to him, remember?”

“Of course I do. I’m not suffering from memory loss, you know.” Draco’s answer was cheeky, but nevertheless cautious. Why cautious? Why, Draco, why?

“Am I your return ticket?” Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. Jack started to bark like mad. “Stop it, Jack! Shut up!” Jack whined and started to scratch hectically at the earth beneath the dense, overhanging laurel tree next to them.

“Return ticket?” Draco blanched. “Harry, if I said something idiotic like that then, please do keep in mind that…”

“Did you say it or didn’t you!” Harry insisted.

“Well, I might have…”

“Am I naïve? Easy to deceive?”

“Please, Harry, I…”

“Easy to be fooled?”

“Harry!” Draco screamed his name, grabbing Harry’s forearm. As if a switch had been turned on, Jack started to bark and to growl like a maniac, loud and persistent.

“DON’T!” Harry shook his arm loose, he couldn’t stand the contact. “DON’T EVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!” He was shaking all over. His shoulders slumped down.

“I hope you’re satisfied now,” Harry tried hard not to let his voice tremble. “You can be proud of yourself. You really are convincing. But, of course, it doesn’t take much to deceive me… I know that I’m a bloody imbecile…” His voice trailed away. “OH, SHUT UP, JACK!” Harry sighed. There was nothing left to say. Except just one thing.

Harry raised his head proudly, looking straight into Draco’s grey eyes. “I don’t want to deprive you of the pleasure of relishing your final victory. You deserve it. You were really good, you succeeded all right. I was crazy about you. I wanted you to make love to me, to be my first.” Harry continued to stare into Draco’s eyes. “You won. I fell in love with you. I was even dumb enough to believe your cared for me too,” Harry tried to sneer, but the corners of his mouth twitched treacherously. “Are you happy now?”

Harry didn’t wait for an answer. He didn’t expect one anyhow. He turned to leave.

Jack’s barking stopped abruptly; his unnatural whimper made Harry whirl around just in time to watch his dog drop dead to the ground. Instantly Harry’s head jerked towards the direction where Deadly Curse had came from and grabbed for his wand. It was useless; he had forgotten to pocket it.

Desperately he yanked his arms up, tried to defend himself with wandless magic, but it was too late.

It hurt terribly. That was all he was able to register when the stunner hit his chest. Then he knew no more.