Heir of Darkness
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,251
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,251
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
September first
text thoughts
~text~ mind speech
*text* dreams
{text} Writing
Chapter 5: September First
*Eyes opening to see long black hair pooled around him. Fingers slowly travailing from his face across his neck and down his chest. Green eyes watching his own silver ones.
He reached up to run his fingers through the other man’s ebony locks. The hand on his chest moves lower to grasp his hard length, slowly, but firmly, stroking with some unheard rhythm.
Eyes close to bask in the pleasure of his partner’s talented hands. The hand disappears. He moans, wishing it would return.
The moan becomes a gasp of pleasure.
He finds himself bound to the bed, both hands tied above his head, the black hair and green eyes above him, his body reaches its completion...*
“HAAARRRYY!!!!!!!!!” Draco’s eyes flashed open as he awoke into the morning light streaming into his windows. Stupid Potter, growing his hair out, looking hot, acting all evil...damn him. And now I have to get on that stupid train along with him. He sighed to himself, this was going to be an interesting year.
.~*~.
Harry awoke quite early on the first of September. He had gathered all of the things that he thought he would need the night before, and they sat in his trunk, neatly packed.
After going through his normal morning routine, he dressed in muggle cloths for the trip to King’s Cross. A tight pair of jeans and a tee-shirt, nothing special, but completely blending in. The shirt sported the name of a band he had discovered in a small music store in Muggle London, Lacuna Coil. All in all he thought he looked very muggle.
He sat down to eat a bit of breakfast. Next to his plate was a stack of parchments that he had taken from the house he had found Voldemort in. The parchments held lists of names. The names were of families: everyone from prominent purebloods to Death Eaters to Mudbloods, it seems that Dark Lords had very good bookkeepers, he would have to find one of his own.
He had spent that past few days going over the lists. Each one was marked with green ink.
He marked names of those he thought would join him. He marked names of those he would have to kill. And he marked those who were to be saved from his forces. As he ate, he went over the lists one last time, and marked a few names he had missed.
When he had finished both his work and his meal, he packed up the parchments into a carefully spelled silver box which also held the gem he had recived from Kuro when he destroyed Voldemort, and placed them into his trunk.
A glance at the clock told him it was time to get going to King’s Cross, so he gathered his things together, shrunk his trunk to an easy to cary size, grabbed Hedgwig’s cage, and headed to the station.
* * *
The shiny red locomotive blew smoke into the crisp autumn air. The platform was filled with children bidding their parents good-bye. Students climbed onto the train and embraced friends. A new year was ready to begin and the war of the old year was gone.
Harry Potter met his own friends on the platform. The trio got onto the train with Ron and Hermione chattering about who they thought would be teaching Defense agents the Dark Arts this year.
They soon found an empty compartment and Harry took a seat next to the window. The other two sat in the seat across from him, Hermione rested her head on Ron’s shoulder. The train whistle blew its last call and slowly pulled out of the station.
Harry gazed out onto the world flashing past them, Hermione and Ron pushed closer to each other. Harry sighed to himself and looked at his two friends.
“I’ll go find somewhere else to sit, I can see that you two need some alone time” Before they could protest, he was put the door and looking for another compartment. He was halfway down the train before he found what he was looking for.
The compartment was thankfully empty and Harry stretched across one of the seats and opened the book he had been reading. It was the same book that he had been reading since his birthday - ‘Becoming a Dark Lord’. He thought it was a rather dumb name for a book, but Kuro informed him that the book had held several names and this one hid the books true nature.
Each chapter of the thick leather-bound book filled his mind with everything he needed to know in his new position. Issues from what made a dark lord, to the correct procedure for torturing captives, to a history of dark lords.
Harry was deeply amerced in Chapter 28, The Call of Darkness, when the door to the compartment opened and a familiar pale figure stormed in, growled, and sat in the empty seat, the door closing firmly behind him.
Harry glanced up at the intrusion, and seeing who it was, smirked to himself and carefully marked his place in the book. “Hello Draco.”
“Potter, I am not here for the conversation, what more you have no right to call me by my given name.” Draco seemed to be in a royal huff.
“My dear Malfoy, I believe that I have every right to call you by your given name. This is the first time you have told me otherwise, so I see no reason why prior to that moment I could not call you ‘Draco’.”
Draco glanced at the book in Harry’s lap, “Still fashioning yourself to be the next Dark Lord? What do your friends say on the matter?”
“I thought you weren’t here for conversation.” Harry sent Draco’s words back to him.
“I realized that there is nothing else to do, and I’m wondering how you stomach parts of that book.” Draco’s voice was board, as though the idea of Harry being a Dark Lord was the most mundane thing to happen to him.
“So, you’ve read it before? I find it quite interesting, I’m looking forward to the chapters on torture.” Harry’s voice was full of energy, He seemed quite exited at the prospects of having a conversation about what he had been reading.
“I read parts of it. In general I found it either intriguing or distasteful. Some of the techniques for marking one’s followers are rather nauseating.” Draco drawled.
“I found that to be one of the most fascinating chapters. Mordred’s methods of marking were so inspiring. The idea of being able to call different parts of a group at different times and still maintain the same symbolism in general makes a great deal of sence.” Harry was waiting for Draco’s reaction. I wonder what he will think of all this. I hope I don’t scare him away...but I also hope that I can convince him.
“I agree that his methods make sence, but his technique was flawed-” Draco was cut off by the tea trolly making its rounds.
Both boys selected a mix of sweets and other items, then closed the door of the compartment as the trolly and its vender continued down the train.
The compartment was silent for a few moments save the sound of the wrappers coming off of chocolate frogs and the caps coming off of butterbeers. It was Harry who broke the silence, “You were saying?”
“Right, Mordred’s techniques were flawed due to how atrocious the very idea of them is.” Draco shivered thinking about what he had read.
“I can see what you’re saying. Though many of the acids he used can be made less painful with the right potions. I, as you know am not very good at potion making; however, and I do find his methods most appealing. They are the most appalling as well...” Through this little speech Draco had sat silently with a thoughtful look on his face.
“So why aren\'t you sitting with the Weasel and the Mudblood?” Draco was doing his best to avoid the subject of him joining the ranks of Harry’s army.
Harry grinned, he would give Draco his time, there was no need to force him, yet. “They decided that snogging each other was more important then talking with me. Not that I mind. Do you realize that this is the first civil conversation we have ever had?”
Draco suddenly sat up very straight, “Well don’t expect it to happen again, Potter. Anyway, we’re here. We’d better get in our school robes.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
This is the art that inspired a lot of how I see the characters. http://www.furiae.com/ I will give you specific names and locations of pieces as they show up in scenes in this fic. A lot of my main characters are there...how about we play a game, and you try to figure out which picture I chose for who, and how close to the pic I will bring the story, and we’ll see how close you get.-those who get the most right will get an extra chapter...probably a lovely slashy smutty chapter.
This could be fun!
~text~ mind speech
*text* dreams
{text} Writing
Chapter 5: September First
*Eyes opening to see long black hair pooled around him. Fingers slowly travailing from his face across his neck and down his chest. Green eyes watching his own silver ones.
He reached up to run his fingers through the other man’s ebony locks. The hand on his chest moves lower to grasp his hard length, slowly, but firmly, stroking with some unheard rhythm.
Eyes close to bask in the pleasure of his partner’s talented hands. The hand disappears. He moans, wishing it would return.
The moan becomes a gasp of pleasure.
He finds himself bound to the bed, both hands tied above his head, the black hair and green eyes above him, his body reaches its completion...*
“HAAARRRYY!!!!!!!!!” Draco’s eyes flashed open as he awoke into the morning light streaming into his windows. Stupid Potter, growing his hair out, looking hot, acting all evil...damn him. And now I have to get on that stupid train along with him. He sighed to himself, this was going to be an interesting year.
.~*~.
Harry awoke quite early on the first of September. He had gathered all of the things that he thought he would need the night before, and they sat in his trunk, neatly packed.
After going through his normal morning routine, he dressed in muggle cloths for the trip to King’s Cross. A tight pair of jeans and a tee-shirt, nothing special, but completely blending in. The shirt sported the name of a band he had discovered in a small music store in Muggle London, Lacuna Coil. All in all he thought he looked very muggle.
He sat down to eat a bit of breakfast. Next to his plate was a stack of parchments that he had taken from the house he had found Voldemort in. The parchments held lists of names. The names were of families: everyone from prominent purebloods to Death Eaters to Mudbloods, it seems that Dark Lords had very good bookkeepers, he would have to find one of his own.
He had spent that past few days going over the lists. Each one was marked with green ink.
He marked names of those he thought would join him. He marked names of those he would have to kill. And he marked those who were to be saved from his forces. As he ate, he went over the lists one last time, and marked a few names he had missed.
When he had finished both his work and his meal, he packed up the parchments into a carefully spelled silver box which also held the gem he had recived from Kuro when he destroyed Voldemort, and placed them into his trunk.
A glance at the clock told him it was time to get going to King’s Cross, so he gathered his things together, shrunk his trunk to an easy to cary size, grabbed Hedgwig’s cage, and headed to the station.
* * *
The shiny red locomotive blew smoke into the crisp autumn air. The platform was filled with children bidding their parents good-bye. Students climbed onto the train and embraced friends. A new year was ready to begin and the war of the old year was gone.
Harry Potter met his own friends on the platform. The trio got onto the train with Ron and Hermione chattering about who they thought would be teaching Defense agents the Dark Arts this year.
They soon found an empty compartment and Harry took a seat next to the window. The other two sat in the seat across from him, Hermione rested her head on Ron’s shoulder. The train whistle blew its last call and slowly pulled out of the station.
Harry gazed out onto the world flashing past them, Hermione and Ron pushed closer to each other. Harry sighed to himself and looked at his two friends.
“I’ll go find somewhere else to sit, I can see that you two need some alone time” Before they could protest, he was put the door and looking for another compartment. He was halfway down the train before he found what he was looking for.
The compartment was thankfully empty and Harry stretched across one of the seats and opened the book he had been reading. It was the same book that he had been reading since his birthday - ‘Becoming a Dark Lord’. He thought it was a rather dumb name for a book, but Kuro informed him that the book had held several names and this one hid the books true nature.
Each chapter of the thick leather-bound book filled his mind with everything he needed to know in his new position. Issues from what made a dark lord, to the correct procedure for torturing captives, to a history of dark lords.
Harry was deeply amerced in Chapter 28, The Call of Darkness, when the door to the compartment opened and a familiar pale figure stormed in, growled, and sat in the empty seat, the door closing firmly behind him.
Harry glanced up at the intrusion, and seeing who it was, smirked to himself and carefully marked his place in the book. “Hello Draco.”
“Potter, I am not here for the conversation, what more you have no right to call me by my given name.” Draco seemed to be in a royal huff.
“My dear Malfoy, I believe that I have every right to call you by your given name. This is the first time you have told me otherwise, so I see no reason why prior to that moment I could not call you ‘Draco’.”
Draco glanced at the book in Harry’s lap, “Still fashioning yourself to be the next Dark Lord? What do your friends say on the matter?”
“I thought you weren’t here for conversation.” Harry sent Draco’s words back to him.
“I realized that there is nothing else to do, and I’m wondering how you stomach parts of that book.” Draco’s voice was board, as though the idea of Harry being a Dark Lord was the most mundane thing to happen to him.
“So, you’ve read it before? I find it quite interesting, I’m looking forward to the chapters on torture.” Harry’s voice was full of energy, He seemed quite exited at the prospects of having a conversation about what he had been reading.
“I read parts of it. In general I found it either intriguing or distasteful. Some of the techniques for marking one’s followers are rather nauseating.” Draco drawled.
“I found that to be one of the most fascinating chapters. Mordred’s methods of marking were so inspiring. The idea of being able to call different parts of a group at different times and still maintain the same symbolism in general makes a great deal of sence.” Harry was waiting for Draco’s reaction. I wonder what he will think of all this. I hope I don’t scare him away...but I also hope that I can convince him.
“I agree that his methods make sence, but his technique was flawed-” Draco was cut off by the tea trolly making its rounds.
Both boys selected a mix of sweets and other items, then closed the door of the compartment as the trolly and its vender continued down the train.
The compartment was silent for a few moments save the sound of the wrappers coming off of chocolate frogs and the caps coming off of butterbeers. It was Harry who broke the silence, “You were saying?”
“Right, Mordred’s techniques were flawed due to how atrocious the very idea of them is.” Draco shivered thinking about what he had read.
“I can see what you’re saying. Though many of the acids he used can be made less painful with the right potions. I, as you know am not very good at potion making; however, and I do find his methods most appealing. They are the most appalling as well...” Through this little speech Draco had sat silently with a thoughtful look on his face.
“So why aren\'t you sitting with the Weasel and the Mudblood?” Draco was doing his best to avoid the subject of him joining the ranks of Harry’s army.
Harry grinned, he would give Draco his time, there was no need to force him, yet. “They decided that snogging each other was more important then talking with me. Not that I mind. Do you realize that this is the first civil conversation we have ever had?”
Draco suddenly sat up very straight, “Well don’t expect it to happen again, Potter. Anyway, we’re here. We’d better get in our school robes.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
This is the art that inspired a lot of how I see the characters. http://www.furiae.com/ I will give you specific names and locations of pieces as they show up in scenes in this fic. A lot of my main characters are there...how about we play a game, and you try to figure out which picture I chose for who, and how close to the pic I will bring the story, and we’ll see how close you get.-those who get the most right will get an extra chapter...probably a lovely slashy smutty chapter.
This could be fun!