A War at the End of the World

I don’t Harry and the Potter series. I wish I did. Anywho:

I’m going to have to take a couple of days off from writing this because I’m getting wisdom teeth pulled. I’ll try to keep up the work, but we’ll see. My mouth hurts.


Chapter 7: Slight of Hand


It was nice to be able to take a shower. He had begun to think that all the sweat and other fluids that have been rubbed into his skin would become something a bit more permanent than Harry believed to be hygienically sound. Not to mention he didn’t think he could face Hermione smelling like semen. Even if it was Draco’s. The memory of the previous night brought a smile to Harry’s lips as he turned off the taps in the bathroom.

Between Draco’s blatant lust and his own desire to break in the bond that the two now shared, neither of them had gotten much sleep. Their had been things that Draco had done to him last night that Harry was sure should be illegal, and once or twice, Harry knew he had heard a charm or two that most definitely was.

“Oye, Potter, would you stop hogging the bathroom like you were a girl. Some of us have routines.”

Harry could hear the smile in the blonde’s voice, the same smile that had been in place since the other boy had woken up and discovered Harry watching him contently. Draco would have kissed the other boy good morning had he not been unceremoniously thrown to the other side of the bed once Harry realized he could do so without waking the boy up. A yelled apology about having to use the bathroom was all he got before the bathroom door had closed.

“Quiet Malfoy. You can’t expect to bugger your mate all night and then throw him out of the bathroom just when you feel like it,” Harry yelled back as he dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist.

“Hmmm,” said a voice from behind the raven-haired boy that had him spinning around in surprise.

“I don’t suppose you could use some help in here?” Draco asked with the worst attempt at an innocent expression that Harry had ever seen.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Harry’s voice squeaked a bit, but he was almost positive that Draco didn’t notice.

Almost.

Draco moved towards Harry, pressing the other boy into the bathroom wall right next to the door.

“Well my dear, Potter,” Draco said as he ghosted his breath up and down Harry’s throat. “There are many things I can do now as a mated veela that I couldn’t do before.”

“Like what,” Harry stuttered out. He didn’t want to waste the opportunity to learn something about Draco, but at the same time, he was so hard.

“Well,” Draco said, elongating each word, suggesting that maybe Harry would soon need another shower. “One thing a mated veela can do is move himself to where ever it is his mate happens to be. No matter the distance or whatever else might stand between them.”

Harry traded his lust filled look to one of intense awe. “Draco that’s bloody brilliant. I can’t believe you can do that now.”

Harry gasped then as Draco slipped his hand between his mate’s thighs, caressing and kneading the erection he found there.

“And it’s not all I can do,” Draco said wantonly. “I’ve got a whole bag of tricks now.”

Harry groaned and tried to respond, but found his lips caught in a fierce kiss that shattered his thoughts and left him with nothing else but the want of Draco. Just as the kissed reached a fevered pitch, Harry felt a wash of cool air rush over him as the bathroom door was opened and he was promptly pushed out into the room.

“I’ll only be a minute or two love and then we can go have breakfast,” Draco said with a sly, almost sadistic smile, and a wink. “You might want to take care of that, by the way.”

Draco promptly closed the door.

Harry stood outside of the door staring at it, wondering when the joke would be over and Draco would come out and ravish him. He waited for a count of one hundred before he realized that Draco wasn’t coming out. Still he didn’t move away from the door until he heard the water running and the sound of Draco getting into the shower. Harry turned in a huff and walked over to Draco’s closet. He didn’t know where his clothes had gone when he had been transformed back into a human, but he knew that they hadn’t come with him. Not that it mattered, if Draco was going to be a prat and tease him then he could stand to lose a few things.

Harry seriously considered setting fire to the whole thing before he picked out what he wanted and headed back to the bed to lay it all out. He would have to transfigure the crest and robe, and make everything a little shorter, but in the pinch the clothes would do. Just as Harry took the towel off to get dressed, he felt a sudden presence behind him, and a warm wet body tackle him into the mattress.

“Hey there lover,” Draco said into Harry’s ear as he reached down and began to prepare Harry hurriedly before positioning himself at the other boy’s entrance.

“Draco,” Harry gasped out. “What the hell are you doing?”

Draco leaned down and smiled into his mate’s shoulder.

“If you can’t tell then I’m not doing my job right. Let’s fix that, eh?”

And with that Draco plunged all the way into Harry making the other boy scream in pure ecstasy. Draco held still for a moment his cock pressed firmly up against his mate’s prostate, which from the way the smaller boy was moving beneath him was a good thing.

“Draco, please, move or something!”

“I’m the dominant in this relationship,” Draco said loudly, but began to move in Harry. “I give the orders here.”

Harry made a rude noise that wasn’t quite as rude as it should have been with Draco fucking him in the ass in slow, deep thrusts.

“I thought you had a shower to take?” Harry asked still slightly miffed about being thrown out of the bathroom earlier. He groaned at the end as Draco did that thing that he liked with his hips.

“I decided that I didn’t want to take a shower alone,” Draco said as he began to pound into Harry with almost reckless abandon. “Now shut up. I have to get you dirty again.”

Harry himself flipped onto his back without ever being taken off of Draco’s cock. He stared up into the blonde’s eyes and saw something there that made his heart do something ridiculously girly.

“Well then get to it,” Harry said covering his reaction to the other boy. “We still have breakfast to get to.”

The boys stop talking after that. Whether it was from a lack of need or a lack a breath couldn’t really be said.




Blaise couldn’t tell what was worse: the utter silence or the sad notes that were vibrating down his connection to Ron. The redhead had slept the rest of the day and the entire night, Greyback’s fist giving some explanation, but the spell the Blaise having the most to do with the boy’s sleeping. When he had woke up there had been a moment when he looked up at Blaise, who had been watching his love quietly, and smiled.

And then like a tidal wave, Blaise had felt it through his connection as Ron remembered everything that had happened the day before and found himself having to jump out of bed to avoid being punched in the face. Ron would have followed, but he was still weak from the magic working and felt dizzy, which gave Blaise ample opportunity to move to the table where he was still sitting miserably.

“So am I?” Ron asked in a very angry and tired voice. “The bait. Are you going to use me to get to Harry or just send him a message?”

Ron almost felt bad when he saw the stricken look cross Blaise’s face. Almost. And then he remembered who knocked the wand out of his hand.

Blaise gave Ron a pleading look, willing the other boy to understand and accept what he was about to say.

“Ron you were never bait. And I know how it looked, but its not what your thinking.”

“Really? So that wasn’t Voldemort who just flooed in here, I didn’t just get pummeled by the werewolf that attacked my brother, and you didn’t keep me from defending myself. That was a dream?” Ron’s voice was sharp and unkind, about what Blaise had expected. Though the hurt look on the boy’s face was a little worse than he hoped for.

“So it was exactly what you thought. Still things aren’t so simple any more, you should believe me.”

The last was said in almost a chiding way that made Ron feel like he had done something wrong, which made him angry. He was the victim and he was not going to feel bad about being angry that his boyfriend was a Deatheater.

Ron made a horrified sound. He thought of Blaise as his boyfriend.

His boyfriend was a Deatheater.

The day was turning out to be total rubbish.

Blaise sighed and made a face and moved to the bed to sit next to Ron. If he was going to get Ron to at least try and trust him, even a little, without using the spell that he cast on the redhead, he couldn’t do it from across the room. Plus he didn’t like being separated from the boy either. Ron was fast becoming an addiction for Blaise, one that he was perfectly happy to have.

“I know this sounds strange, but there is a reason for everything. Would you at least do me a favor and try listening to me before you decide that I’m a heartless Deatheater here to destroy you.”

“And humiliate. You forgot humiliate.”

Blaise snorted. “Ronnie, if I wanted to humiliate you I would record what you sound like during sex.”

Ron blushed a startlingly deep shade of pink.

“Thanks for that,” Ron mumbled.

Blaise smiled at the boy, sure that they were making some progress. “So are you going to listen to me or do we sit here and stare at each other?”

Ron tried to look away, but Blaise grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him.

“Ron, you know you at least owe me the benefit of the doubt.”

“I don’t really owe you anything,” Ron said pulling himself out of Blaise’s grasp.

“Then you owe us the benefit of the doubt. Or were you just going to throw what we have away because you want to be a jerk?” Blaise’s eyes were heated and bored into Ron. Blaise’s eyes looked as if they were glowing, but that may have just been the way the light was hitting them. “At least let me try to explain.”

Ron would have said no, should have, but didn’t. Blaise was right. He did owe them the benefit of the doubt and more importantly he owed himself (though he didn’t know it.) The idea that he had fallen for someone, the wrong someone, wasn’t hurting him now, but he knew that it would slowly start to tear him down inside. He had to listen to Blaise, if only for the sense of closure it could give him.

“Alright then,” Ron said as he scooted back until his back was resting against the headboard of the bed. “Explain away. But this had better be amazing.”

Blaise smiled and began to relate everything that Voldemort had told him about the ministry and Dumbledore’s decision to enlist the aide of the Darklord and his Deatheaters. He took his time explaining the reasons that Voldemort would agree to any plan set forth by the headmaster while answering any and all questions, to the best of his ability. The only thing Blaise left out was what made Harry so different that he was now being targeted in the first place, which was only because he didn’t know. A fact that Ron realized sometime later in Blaise’s retelling. Not that he filled the other boy in on the fact.

Ron was still feeling a mite bitter about the disarming charm after all.

“So you’re telling me that Voldemort came here yesterday to give you this pendant thing to set off a spell that Dumbledore created, only you don’t know what the spell is, or even what the plan is, or even when to set it off.”

“Right,” Blaise replied, realizing that he must sound like a complete twit. “I was told that I would know when the time was right.”

Ron looked at Blaise skeptically, making the other boy a bit defensive.

“Oye. I have a bit of intuition you know. I knew you liked it in the bum didn’t I?”

“Oh and knowing how to give a bloke a good rodgering is going to save the world now, is it?”

Blaise stuck his tongue out at Ron and they both broke down in peals of laughter.

“So you believe me?” Blaise asked. He watched the redheads face, but also paid special attention to the vibrations coming from the connection between them.

“Well. I would except that I don’t understand one thing.” Ron actually looked like he believed the entire story, but was really perplexed about something.

“What’s that then?”

“Why you?” He asked bluntly. “Why not Malfoy or someone else. Why ask you to set off them spell?”

“Oh, well probably because Draco is going through his veela mating season and is about as useful as a limp rag for the first couple of weeks of it.”

“He’s a veela?”

“You couldn’t tell?” Blaise seemed almost shocked. In fact he was quite shocked. “The beautiful hair, the allure, the sex atmosphere. He’s like a walking aphrodisiac.”

Ron shrugged. “Never noticed I suppose. Not my type.”

A huge smile grew across Blaise’s face. Ron didn’t think the drop dead gorgeous veela was drop dead gorgeous. It made something light in Blaise.

“So how do you know Voldemort isn’t sacrificing you to get rid of all of us and making up stories to do it?” Ron asked.

“My clan would kill him,” Blaise said without thinking.

“Your clan?”

“Well it’s long and complicated,” Blaise began. “I can explain it—”

“And you will,” Ron said casting a quick tempus. “But you’ll do it over breakfast. And don’t think I forgot that you let Greyback knock me in the head.”

Blaise’s eyes darkened at the mention of the werewolf. He hadn’t forgotten either.

“Alright,” Blaise said as he caught Ron’s wrist as he got off the bed to head for the bathroom. “But we’re okay now then, right?”

Ron had no reason to trust Blaise. There was still the question as to why the Darklord wouldn’t sacrifice Blaise to accomplish a goal as high as getting rid of Harry. There was also the issue of Blaise being in some kind of alliance with Voldemort. But even with those large things stacked against him, Ron was sure that he could trust Blaise.

Something in his heart urged him too.

“We’re good.” And he punctuated the words with a kiss.

Blaise deepened the kiss, but then let Ron go. “Go get ready. I’m hungry.”

Ron scowled at Blaise affectionately for a moment before heading into the bathroom.

Outside the bathroom door, Blaise stared at nothing at all. Things had gone well. Too well. But maybe that was okay this time. Blaise made a small shift in his head and stared at the red cord that lead from his chest to the bathroom door and the redhead behind it. He wondered if he should end the spell now. And see what happened, but then decided against it.

Just in case. For the future. That’s what he told himself.

And contented himself that it was for the best.


Dumbledore sat on a rock. The rock was seated on a cliff that overlooked the town of Hogsmeade from one direction and the school from another. It was a lovely spot and he wished he could have come to the place more when he needed to think.

“You know I was doing the same thing with Lucious the other night,” Tom said quietly beside the headmaster. There had been nothing to alert Albus of his presence. Not that Albus seemed surprised.

“It is a lovely spot. Quite lovely.”

“The last part of your plan is in motion. The ministry is planning to move tomorrow.”

Dumbledore turned to look at the Darklord with a clever glint in his eyes.

“Mr. Weasely is good at getting you your information.”

If Voldemort was surprised that Albus knew who his spy at the ministry was he didn’t bother to show it. It would be impossible to say what Albus did or didn’t know. The man was obnoxious.

“So we are all prepared,” Dumbledore stated solidly.

“As long as your spell works the way you say.”

“It should. But I don’t really know. Never had a reason to test it before.”

Voldemort smirked. “No I suppose you wouldn’t.”

“Ah, well, no time like the present. Tom. I will most certainly see you tomorrow.”

He was gone then. No flash, no wind, simply gone. A dream maybe.

Lord Voldemort stared out at the School for Witchcraft and Wizardry and had a moment to feel sorry for the ministry.

Dumbledore had made his move. And it was a good one.