The Curse

Well, here it is...

The last chapter of The Curse - now revised! I hope you have enjoyed the story! I also want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has commented! I never knew that so many of you would enjoy it! *HUGS YOU TIGHTLY*

Thanks again!

Annie

Chapter Six

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Harry bent over, pulled on his pants, and threw his trousers and shoes in the direction of his clothes basket, then headed to the loo to check on Malfoy. Malfoy was just beginning to stand up, so Harry rushed over to see if he needed any help. He touched Malfoy's arm tenderly, but Malfoy just shrugged it off, quipping,

“I can manage, thanks.”

Harry took a step back and watched Malfoy as he turned on the tap to wash his face. After drying it off, Malfoy began brushing his teeth. Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained himself. ‘Leave it to Malfoy to make sure his breath smelled minty fresh,’ he thought to himself.

“I know what you're thinking, Potter,” Malfoy said once he had spit out the rinse water. “But I refuse to have a soiled taste in my mouth.” He glanced at Harry in the mirror. “And before you act all offended, I was referring to the bile.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I knew what you meant.”

Malfoy dried his hands on the hanging flannel, and then turned to face Harry. “Sure you did,” he said, smirking as he pushed past Harry. Entering the hall, he nearly stumbled and fell on Harry’s discarded clothes.

“Damnit, Potter! There’s a basket there for a reason!”

Grumbling, Harry scooped his trousers up and tossed them inside, and then kicked his shoes into the corner. He followed Malfoy into the bedroom.

“Happy now?” Harry said sarcastically with a grin, but it quickly faded by a dark look from Malfoy.

Malfoy lay on the bed and folded his arms behind his head. Harry didn’t know exactly what to do, so he stupidly stood next to him, waiting for Malfoy to say something. Instead, Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, and then slowly shook his head.

“Merlin, Potter, I won't bite.”

Blushing, Harry gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. Malfoy scoffed and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him backwards.

“Lie down already,” Malfoy said impatiently.

Slightly irritated, Harry crawled over Malfoy, and lay down beside him, resting his back against the wall. A few uncomfortable moments went by before Malfoy closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“I’m fine, Potter.”

Harry blinked in surprise. “A-are you…sure?”

Malfoy cracked open one lid and glared. Harry looked away and cleared his throat. He heard Malfoy make a noise of impatience.

“Potter, just ask already and get it over with,” Malfoy said, closing his eyes again.

“Sorry?” Harry replied, confused.

Malfoy sighed in annoyance. “Right before you want to ask me a question, you always clear your throat.”

“I do not!” Harry maintained.

Malfoy opened his eyes, and lifted a brow to challenge him. Harry quickly darted his eyes away. He hated it when Malfoy was right.

“W-well,” Harry began, stuttering. He cleared his throat again and Malfoy chuckled. “Oh, shut up!”

“Potter, just ask,” Malfoy said, sounding almost bored.

“Fine!” Harry snapped. “When are you going to tell me what happened?”

“When are you going to stop asking me?”

“When you finally tell me!”

“Well, there you go,” Malfoy said, smirking.

“Damnit, Malfoy! You’re impossible!”

Malfoy chuckled again. “I am, aren’t I?”

“It’s not bloody funny, Malfoy; now tell me!”

Malfoy met Harry’s eyes and gave him a heated glare. “No,” he hissed, suddenly angry.

“Why not?” Harry asked, surprised. Malfoy had never said ‘no’ - he usually just skirted the question.

“Because you’d go all fucking Gryffindor noble on me and kill him.”

“Of course, I would!” Harry spouted, but then realised Malfoy had a good point.

Why should Malfoy tell him, knowing that Harry would take action? It would be like issuing a death sentence for the unknown assailant.

Harry closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw. He knew that the only way Malfoy would tell Harry would be to promise him that he wouldn’t harm … whoever it was. Harry wondered why Malfoy was protecting this guy so fiercely.

Harry inhaled deeply and then held it, silently counting to ten.

“It’s no use, Potter. You’re not going to find out.”

Harry looked down at Malfoy sadly, who in return, rolled his eyes. Malfoy then closed them, and shook his head decidedly.

“I said no.”

“Malfoy, come on. I swear that I--”

“Prove it.”

Harry blinked. “Pardon?”

“Prove that you won't do anything.”

“I-I… how?”

“Do an Unbreakable Vow.”

“W-what?” Harry sputtered, completely surprised. Malfoy was calmly staring at him, apparently waiting for an answer. “I-I…” Harry sighed and then gave in. “All right,” he said quietly.

“All right?” Malfoy asked suspiciously.

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

Harry could almost hear Malfoy grinding his teeth. There was a long pause.

Malfoy’s expression grew dark, and his eyes revealed his internal struggle. “Potter, I swear to god you better not do anything to him,” he warned.

“I won't!” Harry insisted. Malfoy raised a sceptical brow. “I won't!”

Again, Malfoy seemed to think it over. Glancing sideways at Harry, he gave a curt nod. “Fine,” Malfoy muttered.

Harry was elated. After all this time, he would finally find out who had tried to rape Malfoy!

“I meant what I said, Potter,” Malfoy warned again.

Harry sat up with a smile. “I know, I know!”

Malfoy scoffed, and then he barely shook his head. Glancing away, he said somberly, “Well, I suppose it was inevitable.” He looked over to Harry again. “Here,” he said, grabbing Harry's hand. “Rub my stomach.”

Harry frowned, confused. “Don’t we have to do something for the Unbreak--”

“I have your word, and I’m taking it as such,” Malfoy said levelly. “Don’t fuck me over, or you will never--”

“I won't! I won't!” Harry said happily.

Malfoy stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, whilst Harry lazily rubbed his stomach.

“You didn’t know I was gay, did you?” Malfoy asked, although it came out as more of a statement. Harry shook his head, causing Malfoy to smirk. “Only you, Potter.”

Harry parted his lips, wanting to defend himself, but instantly closed it. He didn’t want to give Malfoy a reason to change his mind.

“Well, as you probably could guess, I had very discreet... friends.” He glanced at Harry, who only nodded with understanding. “Well, there was one who didn’t want to end our relationship.”

Excited and without thinking, Harry’s mouth opened wide to ask whom.

“Let me finish,” Malfoy said curtly.

Harry shut his mouth quickly, and then blushed. “Right. Sorry.”

Malfoy grunted then began where he left off.

“Anyway, I broke up with him because he was too, shall I say, ‘needy’,” Malfoy explained. “He was following me everywhere; always had to be with me,” Malfoy said, cringing. “The worst part of it was that he constantly questioned our relationship. ‘Where was it was going?’ ‘Where were we going to live after Hogwarts?’ It was really graining on my nerves. I had other things on my mind.” Malfoy gave Harry a pointed look, to which Harry just nodded.

“Well, when I told him that I had had enough, he threatened me by saying that he was going to go to the Daily Prophet, and try and tarnish the Malfoy name.” Malfoy paused to scoff. “I told him to go ahead. The only one who would be ruined would be my father,” Malfoy said, smirking. “When that didn’t work, he had tried begging. It was pathetic, really.”

At this point, Harry pinched his brows together, and tried to recall whom Malfoy had hung around with. Malfoy seemed to sense this.

“Give it up, Potter. You’ll never be able to guess,” Malfoy said with a slight grin. “Now, should I continue?”

Harry nodded eagerly, and Malfoy shook his head his head in amusement. But his expression changed as soon as he started to recount what happened next.

“Well, after a few months, he had stopped trying. I thought perhaps that he had finally given up. Turns out I was wrong.” Ignoring Harry questioning look, he continued. “I started seeing another chap, and things were going well at first. But, by the end of the second month, he became distant. Not that we were that serious, mind you. We just… Well, truthfully, our relationship was mainly based on sex.”

Malfoy looked away at this point and scowled angrily. “Turns out that Mister…” he emphasised, but then stopped short, obviously realising that he had almost said his ex’s name.

Harry frowned with disappointed, and Malfoy continued on; pretending that he said nothing.

“I finally cornered him one night – the chap I’d been seeing,” Malfoy clarified. “And he told me that it was over.” He glanced at Harry. “Seems he didn’t want his balls sent off to his father.”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock. “He actually…?”

“Yes, my ex threatened him,” Malfoy confirmed as he sneered with disgust.

“Wha-at did you do?”

“What do you think?” Malfoy scoffed. “I confronted the little prick. He denied it, of course. Said he was ‘over me’.” Malfoy laughed humorously. “I found it amusing, however, that he immediately assured me that I could do better. And then he proceeded to offer himself to me.”

Harry looked at him curiously. “Did your father…. I mean, what did your father say? Did he even know what was going on?”

Malfoy turned and glared at him. “Who the fuck cursed me, Potter?” he snapped.

“No! That’s not what I meant! I meant…” Harry's words lingered for a moment, but he tried again. “I just meant…” Harry sighed. “I don’t know what I meant.” Harry shrugged, glanced at Malfoy then looked away. “Sorry. Just forget it.”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, then Harry flinched when Malfoy touched his hand to get his attention. Looking over to him, Harry was met by a small smile, and an expression that said ‘It’s all right. I know you’re just curious.’

Harry pinched his brows together and frowned. Malfoy actually understood? This wasn’t like Malfoy.

Carefully, Harry asked, “Um, so who was…”

Malfoy ignored him, and started again. “Everything was fine after a year or so. I hadn’t heard from him again, although I was curious why.” Malfoy paused, obviously thinking. He blinked and then continued. “Anyway, after the Dark Lord was defeated, my father had been more concerned with his good standing than his only son,” he said with unconcealed contempt.

“Of course, that changed once he had become ‘important’ within the Ministry. I suppose that he suddenly realised that the name of ‘Malfoy’ would be ending with me,” Malfoy said, scowling. “He had confronted me about it, and I simply told him that I had no intentions of marrying just to beget him a grandson.” Malfoy paused to smirk. “He was furious, of course.”

Harry nodded. In a way, though, he could kind of understand Mr Malfoy’s point of view. Not that the way he handled things later was an excuse, of course.

“So, what he did to you… Was it because he, um, lost, so to speak?”

Malfoy smiled at him. “Very good, Potter. Yes, I told my father that if he was to keep on about it, I would leave and he would never see me again.” Malfoy sighed dejectedly. “I just figured that he wouldn’t care one way or another.” He glanced at Harry. “Having a gay son wasn’t exactly… respectable.”

Harry scoffed. “Nice.”

“My feelings exactly,” Malfoy replied. “A few weeks later, I ran into--”

Harry sat up straight, anxious to hear the name. But Malfoy caught himself again, and then sneered at Harry, who then slouched. Apparently, Malfoy was still unsure whether or not to tell him, and asking him about wasn’t helping.

“As you can imagine, I was a bit surprised to see him. He had left me alone for so long that I had assumed he had given up and found someone else.” Malfoy paused and then shook his head slowly. “I was wrong again,” he finished, disappointment showing in his voice.

Harry cleared his throat. “Um, so what did he want?”

“Can’t you figure that out by yourself?” Malfoy snapped.

Harry blushed and lowered his head. “Yeah, I … I can,” he whispered, feeling stupid.

There was a moment of silence, so Harry peered up at Malfoy. He was staring at the ceiling.

“Look, I’m sorry I--”

“Forget it, Potter.” Malfoy sat up and looked away. After a few seconds of thinking, Malfoy began again. “He … He began harassing me. Well, pleading was more like it. He had wanted me back.” His eyes met Harry’s. “You know, it really didn’t make me angry, surprisingly enough. Just annoyed. So, after I told him again, for the umpteenth million time, ‘No’, he started crying. Gods, he really was pathetic,” Malfoy said, shaking his head.

Harry reached out to Malfoy to comfort him, but Malfoy quickly shrugged it off.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said. It was the only thing he could think of to say.

Malfoy glared at him. “I don’t need your pity, Potter,” he sneered.

Harry looked down at his lap. “Sorry. I was just trying to be... Sorry.”

A few more minutes of silence lingered.

Finally, Malfoy continued. “Anyway, I had to get away from him, but he caught me by the arm. He told me...” Malfoy’s jaw tightened. “He begged me to reconsider because my father was plotting something against me, and he didn’t want to see me get hurt. I had no idea what my father could possibly do to me - save use the Imperius Curse - to make me marry someone.”

Harry gasped. “But he wouldn’t do that. He’d be locked up in--”

“I know that, and so does he, fool,” Malfoy snapped, obviously insulted that Harry implied that they were both too stupid to know that.

Again Harry apologised, but Malfoy only sat there staring at him.

Harry tried again. “I really am sorry, Malfoy.”

Malfoy’s jaw clenched, but he looked like he was considering whether to continue or not. He took a deep and steady breath, and his expression slowly relaxed. He nodded his forgiveness, and Harry sighed, relieved. Malfoy began again.

“I asked him straight out what it was that my father had planned. He wouldn’t come out and say it, but he had hinted that my father was going to get an heir to the Malfoy name. Suddenly, I knew I was in danger.” At this point, Malfoy closed his eyes. “I ran home and started packing, even though I knew it would be useless to run away.” Malfoy sighed and stared at the distant wall. “I knew he’d eventually find me,” he whispered.

Harry cringed at this point. To think Malfoy - Draco - was forced to leave everything behind because of his own father.

“After I had packed, however, I realised that I didn’t want to leave,” Malfoy said, looking down at his lap. “I knew that the only way I would be able to stay and fight him, would be to find out everything a person could do to someone like me.”

Malfoy glanced at Harry, who nodded his agreement.

“So, I went to the library and began researching everything I could.” Malfoy hugged himself at this point. “That’s when I learned about the Heir Curse. I began to wonder who my father would get to be the... father, but I realised I already knew.”

“Your ex,” Harry replied knowingly.

Malfoy nodded. “Yes. So, it wasn’t just to get back with me; he wanted me to comply so he wouldn’t have to …” Malfoy swallowed hard. “Rape me.”

“But he did, didn’t he?” Harry spat, getting angry now.

Malfoy could only nod.

“Tell me who he is, Malfoy!”

Malfoy snapped his head over to glare at him. “You have to understand, Potter! He had no choice!”

“The hell he didn’t!” Harry shot back.

“You don’t know what kind of influence my father has! He would have made him do it whether he wanted to or not!”

“But he wanted to, didn’t he?” Harry snapped.

“That’s beside the point!” Malfoy shouted.

“No, it’s not! He’s just as guilty as your father!” Harry spouted, voice rising.

Malfoy started to get up. “This conversation is over,” he sneered.

Harry suddenly panicked, and took hold of Malfoy’s arm. “No, wait! Wait! I’m sorry, Malfoy. I just... what he did was wrong, and he needs to be held accountable.”

Malfoy reluctantly sat back down, but he brushed Harry’s hand away.

“I know,” Malfoy said quietly. “But I don’t blame him. Not completely.”

Harry didn’t agree, but he decided he’d let it go.

For now.

Changing the subject, Harry asked, “So, it happened the night I found you?”

“Yes,” Malfoy said distantly.

Harry thought maybe Malfoy didn’t want to talk about this anymore, but the look he gave Harry told him differently.

“Yes, it happened right before you found me. I had just left the pub. I didn’t see my father, but I felt the curse hit me like a ton of bricks. Within seconds, he – my ex – came rushing over to me, crying like a fool. He apologised over and over again, but apparently, the curse took hold of him because he proceeded to … well, you know.”

Malfoy shivered at the memory. “He was, in a word, possessed. He just …” Malfoy stopped again, and tears began to form in his eyes. “He had never touched me like that,” Malfoy insisted, looking at Harry. “Never,” he emphasised again.

Harry nodded. That’s all he could do, because he was speechless. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like for Malfoy.

“It was horrible,” Malfoy whispered, closing his eyes. “I had never felt so much pain. I knew he had ripped me opened, given that I was unprepared.”

He glanced over at Harry, and Harry nodded again, now understanding what ‘preparing’ was.

“I don’t know how he did it, but he had managed to stop. I can only guess that it was causing him as much pain.”

Harry remembered what Hermione had told him:

“The curse repelled him because it was too soon.”

“So, he got up and ran away, and that’s when you found me,” Malfoy finished, sounding relieved that his story was over.

“He tried again, didn’t he?” Harry whispered. “That day I went to work?”

Malfoy nodded. “Yes. He probably went to my father and told him, who ordered him to finish the curse.”

“How did your father know where you were?”

Malfoy looked at Harry like he was insane. “The curse, of course.”

Ignoring Malfoy’s sarcastic tone, Harry probed, “But how did he manage to penetrate my wards?”

Malfoy shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“So, he – your ex - couldn’t complete the curse then?”

Malfoy smirked at Harry. “The curse had already recognised a father. Don’t you remember?” Malfoy drawled playfully.

Harry's face turned bright red and looked away, trying to hide his face. “Yeah, I remember.”

“So, there you have it. Now will you let it go?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Not until you tell me his name.”

Malfoy sighed. “Does it really matter?”

Harry clenched his fists. “Yes!”

Malfoy looked at him accusingly. “You’ll only do something stupid, Potter. Like confront him.” Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Malfoy held up a hand. “Yes, you will, Potter. I can see it in your eyes.”

Harry took several deep breaths, and closed his eyes. Deep down inside, Harry knew that Malfoy was right. He would confront the bastard.

But stubbornly, Harry just had to know.

Looking at Malfoy with as much sincerity as he possibly could muster, he said calmly, “Look, Malfoy. I can’t guarantee that I won’t confront him… but I will try not to. Fair enough?’”

Malfoy turned his head away from Harry. “Blaise Zabini,” he whispered, so softly that Harry almost didn’t hear him say anything.

“Who?” Harry asked loudly.

Malfoy’s head snapped back over to glare at him. “If you didn’t hear me, Potter, then that’s your problem. I said it and I won’t say it again,” he stated firmly.

Harry's mind was racing. It was Blaise. Blaise Zabini. He knew that’s what he had heard. Harry smiled. Malfoy had finally told him.

Malfoy lay back down on the bed, and then gently placed Harry's hand over his belly. “Now, would you mind rubbing my stomach again? All this talk is upsetting her,” he said with a wink.

Suddenly, Harry blinked. “What?” Harry squeaked. Did Malfoy just imply…? He stared at Malfoy, barely shaking his head in disbelief. Suddenly felt his face grow pale, and bile was rising in his throat. “W-what did you just say?” Harry whispered.

Malfoy chuckled. “I said that you’re going to be a father. Now get to it, my stom--”

Harry jerked his hand away, covered his mouth, and then jumped off the bed to run to the loo.

Malfoy laughed then called out, “Hey, I’m the only one who is supposed to get sick!”


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As Draco listened to the sounds of Potter’s retching, he couldn’t help but smile. A huge weight had been lifted off Draco’s shoulders. He closed his eyes and sighed. Draco was actually glad he told Potter what happened. He knew there would be a risk of Potter revenging Blaise, but…

Well, if truth be told, Draco would be disappointed if Potter didn’t.

Draco glared at the ceiling. Fucking Gryffindors. Bringing out his need to feel protected? It almost wanted him to blast Harry. Just for good measure. Draco suddenly laughed at the image of Potter’s confused face that said, “What the hell did you do that for?”

Suddenly, Draco’s stomach churned, and he immediately rubbed his stomach. Perhaps he shouldn’t be thinking of such things whilst he was pregnant. He was going to have enough problems as it was.

His thoughts then turned to the future. He no longer had doubts that this strange relationship wouldn’t work. Granted, Potter was still a pain in the ass, but Draco had handled worse boyfriends. Draco cringed, thinking of who that was.

But, Draco knew that Potter was different. He also knew that Potter would be so easy to manipulate if he wanted something. Not that Draco would have to, though. The stupid Gryffindor would probably do anything for him.

And it wasn’t just because Draco was pregnant. It was because Potter would want Draco to just shut up.

Sometimes it was good to be a prat.

Draco couldn’t help but chuckle again, but then a shiver went over him. It was odd thinking of Potter as his ‘boyfriend’. Who would have thought? Certainly not him.

Draco glanced over to the loo. Potter was brushing his teeth. Draco sniggered. The look on Potter’s face was priceless when Draco had told him that he was pregnant. And the timing was perfect.

When Madam Pomfrey came by earlier, however, and told Draco the news, he wasn’t sure if he could wait till Potter came home. He wanted to tell him there and then. Draco smiled, glancing back over to Potter. He was glad he was able to hold out.

Draco closed his eyes, took in a huge lungful of air, and melted into the mattress. Now there weren’t any more secrets.

Well… save one.

Of course, Draco would tell Harry what it was, but not yet. His father would have the privilege of finding out that secret first.

Draco grinned evilly just thinking about it.

Not only would Draco be informing his father that he was getting a grand-son, but that Draco was going to make damn sure that the boy would have Potter’s last name.

Draco’s laughter filled the small flat.

Life was good.
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~ THE END ~

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Roedhunt
2009

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