Curse of the Houses
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,600
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,600
Reviews:
5
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.
Curse of the Houses
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the places, characters etc. they all belong to J.K. Rowling and I do not make any profit from my work.
Chapter One: New Beginnings
“Mmm…” Ron moaned, as a burning sensation shot through him from his toes, right up to his groin. He wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or closed, but all he could see was blackness and the occasional burst of bright stars when something felt extremely good from between his legs.
He was moaning, he knew and yet he could not stop himself and it was because of that wicked tongue he could feel on him. Pushing him to the edge and making him moan louder.
“…Ron,”
That hot, hot mouth drank him down and Ron was close… so close.
“…Ron,”
He could see blond hair shinning through the blackness and he so desperately wanted to run his fingers through it. He wanted to know if it was as soft and as silky as it looked.
“RON!” Ron’s eye sprung open and Hermione’s worried face came into view.
“Are you okay? You were moaning in your sleep,” she asked, giving him an apprehensive look.
Ron felt his cheeks burn up, throwing his robes over the bottom half of body, he sat up, hoping neither Hermione, nor Harry, had noticed the rather painful bulge in his trousers.
“I’m fine, I was just dreaming,” he answered, hoping neither of his best friends could tell he was lying.
“About what?” asked Harry.
“Er… I can’t remember,” Ron flustered.
The three friends were currently aboard the Hogwarts Express, speeding towards their seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ron stretched his arms above his head. It had been uncomfortable sleeping on the hard wooden bench of the train compartment. Not that he had felt it that much, being too entranced by the dream he was having.
Looking out of the window, he saw that night was falling and expected they would be arriving at the castle soon. It felt different, going back to school without the threat of Voldemort hanging over them. However, the prophecy had not come to pass and it had been Albus Dumbledore that had killed the most feared wizard ever to grace the Earth. The Golden Trio had been at the scene when it had happened, although Ron had been the only one to see the curse as it hit Voldemort on the back, sending him spinning into the air and landing by the grave of his own father.
The image of the misty graveyard was now burned into Ron’s mind. He had never seen anyone die before and vaguely wondered how Harry had coped after seeing Cedric being killed in that very same graveyard just over two years ago. It hadn’t just been Voldemort he had seen die that night either, but also Alastor ’mad-eye’ Moody, Tonks and numerous Death Eaters. He was almost glad someone had used the Stupefy spell against Hermione at the beginning of the battle. He was glad she never had to see what he and Harry had seen, for that, he was thankful.
Ron shook his head to clear it of thoughts of the battle. As his mum had said, “everyone fought so that they could live and he shouldn’t waste the life he had been granted by dwelling on the past.”
Ron knew she was right. This was a time of new beginnings. The beginning of a new school year. The beginning of a world free from Voldemort. The beginning of the rest of his life.
*@*
Draco was sucking something. It was hot…very hot. As he teased it with his tongue, he could hear moans coming from above him. Moans he wanted to make louder. Moans he wanted to turn into screams. He couldn’t see who was moaning yet, but he knew whom it was. He always knew who it was. This seemed different thought, more vivid. He could almost smell the other boy, almost taste him. The other boy was close, he could feel it, when suddenly the dream was ripped away from him and he was thrown into consciousness.
As the view of the small, dank train compartment soared into his vision, Draco frowned. He’d had dreams of Ron Weasley before, that was nothing new for the blond Slytherin, but they had never felt so real before. And what had happened at the end? It had felt as if something had literally dragged him away from the dream… away from Ron.
Draco sighed looking out the window at the falling night sky. He was fast approaching his final year at Hogwarts, but this train ride felt different from the previous six he had taken. This year there was no more Voldemort, no more Death Eaters, and no more war. Draco had tried to keep out of the war. He didn’t want to fight for Voldemort, but he didn’t want to betray his family either. However, to his displeasure, his father had tried to haul him on to the dark side. Draco had refused, which had angered his father, who had threatened to disown Draco. When the elder Malfoy realised that his son did not care about his fortune, he had threatened Draco with death. Draco had almost crumbled under the pressure, but had held his head high and told his father that he would rather die than serve Voldemort. Luckily, for Draco, his father had been killed before he could follow through on his threat.
Draco had been staring down the end of his father’s wand, preparing himself for the end. His father’s sneer was firmly in place and his cold eyes showed no remorse for what he was about to do. Draco had held his fathers gaze. If he was going to die, then he was going to die with pride, not fear. Fate, however, must have been on Draco’s side that day, as a group of Aurors blasted their way into the Manor. Lucius had attempted to aim unforgivable curses at the group, but had been hit with a killing curse from an unknown Auror. Draco had watched as the lifeless body of his father fell to the floor, landing just in front of him. He stared at the limp body as the Ministry officials searched the manor. He had wondered at the time why he had felt no sadness towards the death of his father, the man had always given him what he wanted, except maybe one thing, that Draco had needed more than material possessions… love.
His mother, who had been in another part of the manor during the incident between Draco and his father, had been arrested during the raid and was now awaiting trail, on charges of participating in Death Eater activities. He felt nothing towards her either. She was his mother, but she had never acted like one. She had let his father control her and that had made her a bad mother.
Draco had been taken to the Ministry that night too, where he was questioned under the influence of Veritaserum. He had been freed once it was confirmed that he was not a Death Eater, nor did he follow their beliefs.
His life had changed so much over the past year and Draco was glad that that part of his life was now over. Although, he still had the whole of the Malfoy Estate to deal with, as he was now the sole benefactor of the large fortune. He was contemplating selling Malfoy Manor. Granted, it had been his childhood home, but it was now filled with memories that Draco would much rather forget.
He sighed, thinking of the past year hurt, but he remembered what his grandfather had once said to him, “don’t morn the endings forever, for they are just a sign that a new beginning is around the corner.”
Draco looked across the compartment to were Crabbe and Goyle were sat muttering to each other, and then returned his gaze to the darkened scenery that was wiping past. His grandfather was right; an ending had brought new beginning. The beginning of a new school year. The beginning of a world were he didn’t have to live by his fathers rules. The beginning of freedom.
Chapter One: New Beginnings
“Mmm…” Ron moaned, as a burning sensation shot through him from his toes, right up to his groin. He wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or closed, but all he could see was blackness and the occasional burst of bright stars when something felt extremely good from between his legs.
He was moaning, he knew and yet he could not stop himself and it was because of that wicked tongue he could feel on him. Pushing him to the edge and making him moan louder.
“…Ron,”
That hot, hot mouth drank him down and Ron was close… so close.
“…Ron,”
He could see blond hair shinning through the blackness and he so desperately wanted to run his fingers through it. He wanted to know if it was as soft and as silky as it looked.
“RON!” Ron’s eye sprung open and Hermione’s worried face came into view.
“Are you okay? You were moaning in your sleep,” she asked, giving him an apprehensive look.
Ron felt his cheeks burn up, throwing his robes over the bottom half of body, he sat up, hoping neither Hermione, nor Harry, had noticed the rather painful bulge in his trousers.
“I’m fine, I was just dreaming,” he answered, hoping neither of his best friends could tell he was lying.
“About what?” asked Harry.
“Er… I can’t remember,” Ron flustered.
The three friends were currently aboard the Hogwarts Express, speeding towards their seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ron stretched his arms above his head. It had been uncomfortable sleeping on the hard wooden bench of the train compartment. Not that he had felt it that much, being too entranced by the dream he was having.
Looking out of the window, he saw that night was falling and expected they would be arriving at the castle soon. It felt different, going back to school without the threat of Voldemort hanging over them. However, the prophecy had not come to pass and it had been Albus Dumbledore that had killed the most feared wizard ever to grace the Earth. The Golden Trio had been at the scene when it had happened, although Ron had been the only one to see the curse as it hit Voldemort on the back, sending him spinning into the air and landing by the grave of his own father.
The image of the misty graveyard was now burned into Ron’s mind. He had never seen anyone die before and vaguely wondered how Harry had coped after seeing Cedric being killed in that very same graveyard just over two years ago. It hadn’t just been Voldemort he had seen die that night either, but also Alastor ’mad-eye’ Moody, Tonks and numerous Death Eaters. He was almost glad someone had used the Stupefy spell against Hermione at the beginning of the battle. He was glad she never had to see what he and Harry had seen, for that, he was thankful.
Ron shook his head to clear it of thoughts of the battle. As his mum had said, “everyone fought so that they could live and he shouldn’t waste the life he had been granted by dwelling on the past.”
Ron knew she was right. This was a time of new beginnings. The beginning of a new school year. The beginning of a world free from Voldemort. The beginning of the rest of his life.
*@*
Draco was sucking something. It was hot…very hot. As he teased it with his tongue, he could hear moans coming from above him. Moans he wanted to make louder. Moans he wanted to turn into screams. He couldn’t see who was moaning yet, but he knew whom it was. He always knew who it was. This seemed different thought, more vivid. He could almost smell the other boy, almost taste him. The other boy was close, he could feel it, when suddenly the dream was ripped away from him and he was thrown into consciousness.
As the view of the small, dank train compartment soared into his vision, Draco frowned. He’d had dreams of Ron Weasley before, that was nothing new for the blond Slytherin, but they had never felt so real before. And what had happened at the end? It had felt as if something had literally dragged him away from the dream… away from Ron.
Draco sighed looking out the window at the falling night sky. He was fast approaching his final year at Hogwarts, but this train ride felt different from the previous six he had taken. This year there was no more Voldemort, no more Death Eaters, and no more war. Draco had tried to keep out of the war. He didn’t want to fight for Voldemort, but he didn’t want to betray his family either. However, to his displeasure, his father had tried to haul him on to the dark side. Draco had refused, which had angered his father, who had threatened to disown Draco. When the elder Malfoy realised that his son did not care about his fortune, he had threatened Draco with death. Draco had almost crumbled under the pressure, but had held his head high and told his father that he would rather die than serve Voldemort. Luckily, for Draco, his father had been killed before he could follow through on his threat.
Draco had been staring down the end of his father’s wand, preparing himself for the end. His father’s sneer was firmly in place and his cold eyes showed no remorse for what he was about to do. Draco had held his fathers gaze. If he was going to die, then he was going to die with pride, not fear. Fate, however, must have been on Draco’s side that day, as a group of Aurors blasted their way into the Manor. Lucius had attempted to aim unforgivable curses at the group, but had been hit with a killing curse from an unknown Auror. Draco had watched as the lifeless body of his father fell to the floor, landing just in front of him. He stared at the limp body as the Ministry officials searched the manor. He had wondered at the time why he had felt no sadness towards the death of his father, the man had always given him what he wanted, except maybe one thing, that Draco had needed more than material possessions… love.
His mother, who had been in another part of the manor during the incident between Draco and his father, had been arrested during the raid and was now awaiting trail, on charges of participating in Death Eater activities. He felt nothing towards her either. She was his mother, but she had never acted like one. She had let his father control her and that had made her a bad mother.
Draco had been taken to the Ministry that night too, where he was questioned under the influence of Veritaserum. He had been freed once it was confirmed that he was not a Death Eater, nor did he follow their beliefs.
His life had changed so much over the past year and Draco was glad that that part of his life was now over. Although, he still had the whole of the Malfoy Estate to deal with, as he was now the sole benefactor of the large fortune. He was contemplating selling Malfoy Manor. Granted, it had been his childhood home, but it was now filled with memories that Draco would much rather forget.
He sighed, thinking of the past year hurt, but he remembered what his grandfather had once said to him, “don’t morn the endings forever, for they are just a sign that a new beginning is around the corner.”
Draco looked across the compartment to were Crabbe and Goyle were sat muttering to each other, and then returned his gaze to the darkened scenery that was wiping past. His grandfather was right; an ending had brought new beginning. The beginning of a new school year. The beginning of a world were he didn’t have to live by his fathers rules. The beginning of freedom.