Magia Scura

(Dedicated to Graballz, who always leaves great reviews, and probably thinks I'm a maniac XD)

A ten ton weight had lifted from his chest and shoulders after having told Snape about the false Potter. He almost could have skipped back down to the dorms, he felt so light hearted and free. Voldemort was still inside the school, still lurking behind a face that eighty five percent of the population trusted implicitly, but now Draco wasn't the only one who knew about it, and he wasn't required to do anything about it now.

When he arrived back in the common room, chaos greeted him. Harry was standing in the middle of what looked like a cyclone of damage, and there were other students lurking around him, warily. They turned when Draco came in, and everyone was silent for about five seconds before they all started talking at once.

"Draco, you'll never believe what this stupid-"

"How did he get in here? Are you-"

"I want him out! He called me a mud-"

"Draco!"

The loudest voice was from Harry himself, and a dazzling grin lit up his face. He threw himself forward and latched onto Draco's arm, nuzzling him. "I tried, Draco, I tried, but they don't believe me. I think I'll have to start in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff first."

The sight of the Famous Harry Potter cuddled up against Draco Malfoy was more than most of them could handle. The majority of the students retreated back to wherever they'd come from before Potter wandered out into their midst, and the rest settled in to watch whatever happened next. They were expecting something dramatic, like Draco's imminent explosion, or maybe a fantastic fight between the two boys.

To everyone's complete surprise, Draco simply put his free arm around Harry's shoulders and steered him towards the dorms. As they were exiting the common room, Harry turned his head back and smirked at the thirty or so flabbergasted students, and stuck his tongue out at them.

*

Draco deposited Harry back in his room, and went into the private shower afforded to prefects. It wasn't the same as the Prefect's bath, but it would do for a quick wash in some hot water. Especially after the situations he'd just come from.

So, Voldemort had failed miserably with the Slytherins. That wasn't surprising, considering he'd employed his usual tactics of marching into the thick of things and assuming he was correct. He'd been out of Slytherin for too long. To his horror, Draco found himself working out strategies for the currently-teenaged dark lord, and immediately shook everything out of his head. He'd just gotten the water to the correct temperature, and was stripping out of his clothes when the door opened.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Harry's voice was nervous, and he chewed on his lower lip. Draco was puzzled, and set his mind to the problem. Obviously, Voldemort wasn't nervous, or tentative, or apologetic, or any number of things he'd displayed upon merging with Potter. Perhaps the underlying Gryffindor-ishness was seeping into his Slytherin Dark Lord persona. Seeing as how Draco knew, he had no reason to keep up any sort of pretenses around the blond, and so that couldn't possibly be a reason for the peculiar behavior. The only thing that Draco could think of was that Harry's personality was leaking through the Dark Lord's consciousness, creating a mix of the two of them.

Realizing that Harry was still waiting for an answer, he thought about that. He'd want sex, and the shower was meant to relax him. Still, getting off would surely be relaxing, especially considering he didn't have classes until the next day. "Certainly," Draco said, and Harry's face lit up.

"Thank you."

This was now downright disturbing. He wasn't Voldemort... and he wasn't Harry, either. Unabashedly watching him strip, Draco stepped into the spray of water, and almost moaned. It was almost scalding, just the way he liked it, and the water pressure was incredibly high. Thank god for attentive house-elves.

Harry stepped in behind him, making a small noise at the temperature. "You like it hot, eh?" He asked, smirking. Draco felt hands on his shoulders, rubbing and sliding against the skin, working the tension out of the muscles beneath it.

"Oh god yes," Draco murmured, then felt his face flame a moment later. He was going to get nowhere if he allowed Harry to distract him by touching him!!

A stray train of thought told him that he'd told himself this before, with about the same reaction. He could completely appreciate the struggle Snape went through to remain loyal to Dumbledore while appearing loyal to the Dark Lord and without upsetting either of them. As Harry's hands slipped lower, working out the knots in the middle of his back, Draco wondered if, once Voldemort had been evicted, and Potter hadn't been killed in the process, he'd be willing to keep this relationship up.

"can I fuck you?" Harry whispered into his ear, having to get up on his tiptoes to do so. Draco realized how much shorter Harry was compared to him, and nodded, his throat suddenly dry. "Can you do it standing up?"

There was the ten galleon question. He'd fucked Pansy while they were standing up, after the Yule Ball in fourth year, but his reactions to Harry's touches were so much more intense than they'd been to Pansy. "Sure," he gasped out, figuring that if he couldn't keep his feet, then the shower was large enough to accomodate them.

He felt the smirk Harry pressed into his shoulder, as those hands dipped down across his bum, massaging it gently. I'm so weak, he thought, trying to keep his noises to a minimum as Harry gently coaxed his cock into life. He wasn't aware of the former Gryffindor dropping to the floor, but the soft warm tongue against the cleft of his arse made him jerk forward, then backward. "Ah! Harry!"

It was a few short moments before Draco was reduced to incoherent babbling again, and Harry took ruthless advantage of it. He'd brought or summoned a small bottle into the bathroom, and now put it to use, replacing his tongue with his fingers and pressing them against Draco's prostate. His knees were weak, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stay upright if this kept up much longer. Then Harry was pressing into him, and it felt wonderful. When a rough, Quidditch-callused hand reached around and began stroking him, Draco fell forward against the shower tiles, letting the water stream around them. His moans mingled with Harry's, and he had time to realize that he liked the sound of Harry getting off with him, and then remember that it wasn't Harry inside before he was jerking, his climax flinging its way out of his body and against the wall. Harry thrust twice more, and then paused as he emptied his seed into Draco's body before leaning against him. "I love your body, Draco," he whispered, stroking the soft skin of Draco's stomach.

He jerked away slightly, and Draco turned to look at him and make sure he was alright. Potter was back in control; Draco was beginning to see a pattern.

"Am I just doomed to see you post-coital every time?!" he demanded. Clearly Voldemort's personality was leaking over to him just as much as his was leaking to Voldemort.

"It's not my fault that every time we have sex he switches with you," Draco said mildly, pleasantly 'post coital,' as Potter had said.

"I notice that you've failed to get rid of me," Potter sneered. "And I also realize that we're in Hogwarts now. You're all doomed, you know. There's no way out of this. He failed with the Slytherins for now, but it won't be long before he's got the whole school eating out of his hand. How long did it take with you? Oh I remember, about ten minutes. Long enough for him to fuck you into your own bedspr-"

Draco slammed him against the tiles, feeling the water temperature dropping. "You just shut the fuck up right now," he growled. "You have no idea what's going on."

"I know exactly what's going on. I'm still in here!" He shouted at last. "I can see what he sees! I know what he's thinking! He's not aware that I'm still in here, but it's only a matter of time before you slip up and let him know, and then he'll get rid of me, and I'll REALLY be dead, you jackass!"

"I'm not going to let him, or anyone else kill you!" Draco said, his voice raising to match Potter's. "I won't allow it!"

"And why not? It's not so long ago that you would have loved to see me strung up on the pitch, bleeding and broken." Potter's voice returned to normal decibels.

"That was ... before." It was lame, and he knew it.

"Before what?" Potter sounded genuinely curious, and Draco found himself flushing.

"Back in the Manor," he said. "You stood up to him, even though you were naked and being tortured. There's not many people who could... There's no one else who could have done that. It made me... respect you."

"You... respect me?" It was the last thing he said before he toppled forward. When he next opened his eyes, it was Voldemort in control again. He looked completely perplexed.

"What happens when we finish having sex?" He asked. "I don't remember anything."

Draco shrugged. "You usually fade off for a few moments, and then come too. I didn't know I was so arousing." He tried to pass it off as being normal, nothing to worry about, I'm not talking to your captive while you're unconscious. It worked, and Harry laughed.

"Draco, you're the sexiest thing to walk this planet, and you know it. I suppose it's just the body. He's just weak, and can't handle mind-blowing sex. Don't worry, it won't always be that way." Harry spoke with an easy reassurance, something that didn't reassure Draco at all. His extended conversation with Potter left his head spinning. Briefly, he wondered if he could maybe talk Harry into having sex again, and maybe getting a chance to talk to Potter some more. Then he recalled that they had classes in the morning, and he was impossibly tired.

"Let's go to bed," he said, halting any further conversation, and turning the water off. He walked stiffly, but felt languid inside, and as he dried off, Harry climbed out of the shower.

"We've got classes tomorrow, yes?" There was a devious light in his eyes that Draco didn't like.

"What are you going to do about the scar? And the dark mark?" Harry looked down at his arm in surprise, as though he'd forgotten it was there. Great, there was a scatterbrained Slytherin and a ginkie Gryffindor both occupying the same space.

"Hm... The scar can be easily magicked back. The mark... well, I suppose I'll just wear long sleeves all the time. At least until I reveal the true plan, of course."

"Of course," Draco murmured, flopping into his bed fully naked and still wet. It was a few more moments before Harry cautiously joined him, curling up beside him like a puppy.

*

He awoke early the next morning, probably around five, to a very naked, very horny seventeen year old possessed boy lying on top of him. "Wake up, lover," he whispered, stroking Draco into hardness. Draco was aroused before he was fully awake, and kissed blindly. It looked like Potter, and he was having such a nice dream...

"wanna fuckyou..." he breathed, and there was a moment of hesitation.

"Alright," came a quiet response. There was some shifting around, and then pressure as the smaller body lowered itself onto his length. Draco moaned, probably too loudly, but the feeling of his erection sinking into the tight heat of another's body was too much to keep quiet about. The body above him shifted a little, and then squeaked in surprise, before rocking back and forth. Draco added little thrusts upwards, and the two of them had established a rhythm before too long. He was so hard, and the stimulation was so good, that it wasn't long before he was climaxing. He felt something hot and wet pool on his stomach as his partner followed him over the edge, and collapsed next to him. Draco softened in his body, but didn't pull out.

"What the fuck!?"

"Go t'sleep, baby," Draco murmured, pulling him tight against his chest and rolling over. There was a brief struggle, and as Draco slipped back into sleep, he heard a soft sigh and an affectionate, "Jackass."

*

The next time Draco awoke, it was because the alarm clock he'd charmed to wake him up at seven was ringing incessantly in his ear.

"What is that manic device and how do you shut it off?!" Harry said, hands covering his ears. Draco chuckled, and flicked his wand at it. The noise ceased instantly, and Harry relaxed.

"We've got to get ready for class," Draco said, rolling out of the bed. He felt energetic and springy, and practically bounced into the shower. He washed quickly, and dressed, and by the time he had gotten around to styling his hair, Harry finally made his way out of the shower. He was walking gingerly, almost limping, and Draco nearly asked why before the events of the early morning rendezvous returned to his conscious memory. The comb fell out of numb fingers, and he gazed at his reflection in shock. He'd actually fucked Harry. That hadn't been a dream.

"Are you alright to go to classes?" he asked, and was rewarded with a smile.

"I'm fine. I'm glad it hurts. It gives me something to remember it by." He sounded chirpy enough, but Draco was still worried.

"Are you sure? We can sneak off to the medical wing before we have to go to class."

"I'm fine," Harry said again, his voice hardening for just a moment. Draco was abruptly reminded of who and what he was dealing with, and his mouth snapped shut with an audible click of his teeth. Harry dug through his trunk, which had been relocated to Draco's dorm as promised, and was faintly amused to see the Slytherin tie instead of a Gryffindor one. The patch on his robes had changed, too. He dressed in silence, gathered his books, and accompanied Draco to Potions.

It wasn't until they were walking through the classroom doors and Snape glowered down at them from the head of the room that he realized that they were going to have to deal with the Gryffindor's, and pray that Snape didn't give the game away too soon.

Almost on cue, the mudblood and weasel burst through the doors. She immediately launched herself at Harry, who was taken completely off guard.

"GET OFF OF ME!" He shouted, and Draco was thoroughly glad that class hadn't officially started yet, and that they were early enough that the other students were limited. Granger turned him loose immediately, looking shocked and hurt, and Harry apologised immediately. "I'm sorry!" He said, sounding convincing. His eyes didn't match his voice, though. "I don't like being touched. It's... the Death Eeaters..." He gave the same story as he had to McGonnagal, and they bought it just as readily as she had.

"I'm sorry, mate," Weasley said, making a move as though to put a hand on his shoulder. Harry flinched, and he pulled back without making contact.

"I'm so sorry!" Granger sobbed. "We should have done something! We should have been able to... to do something!"

"Hey... uh... Hermione. It's alright. I'm okay, I just.. I don't feel very comfortable around people right now. Draco saved me. I feel safe with him." To prove his point, he leaned closer to Draco, who allowed the contact while blithely ignoring the two Gryffindors.

"Harry, your robes...?" The Weasel sounded betrayed, and Draco chuckled inwardly. You don't know the half of it, Weasley.

"I told you," Harry said. "Draco's the only one I feel safe around. I can't stay in Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat told me I could go to Slytherin, and it's okay."

"It's not okay!" Granger all but shouted, but by then more people were arriving, and Harry hurried over to Draco's seat, trying to avoid touching people. All through the class he felt Granger and Weasley's harsh stares boring into the back of his skull, but Draco ignored them both, only speaking to Snape or Harry when spoken too.

---
TBC.

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