Destiny

Title: Destiny
Author: Ravenna C. Tan
Rating: NC-17
Prompt Set: 50.1
Prompt: #5 "Destiny"
Word Count: 4151
Summary: Harry has always had some of Voldemort's power inside him. What happens when, a year after the Dark Lord is vanquished, that power starts to manifest... in bed?
Warnings: Smut, smut, and more smut. Also some humor.
Beta-reader: Miraba
Disclaimer: This is non-commercial, just-for-fun fan fic. These characters belong to J. K. Rowling and her publishers, not me.


Draco came half-awake that morning, his morning wood twisted under him until he shifted in the bed, pressing his back against Harry. The first light of dawn was barely blueing the sky and he nestled in to sleep for a few more hours. They weren't due at the Ministry until nigh on ten or so and a charm was set to wake them.

He felt Harry's arm snake around him under the covers, as it often did. Then, a more insistent touch, Harry's own erection nudging at his buttcheeks, his hand now rolling Draco onto his stomach.

"Harry..." Draco started to complain sleepily, but he couldn't deny that he'd had fantasies of Harry taking him like this, horny, unwilling to wait, and he gasped as Harry threw off the covers and pressed him down into the mattress. What made him so frisky this morning? He then felt Harry's tongue do something it had previously not, slithering in the crack of Draco's arse until Draco arched back, trying to take the tongue in.

"Merlin, Harry, when did you...?" But Draco broke off as he felt Harry's finger insinuate itself inside. He bit back a whimper and his back bowed with pleasure. Oh yeah, take me you naughty Gryffindor!

Harry tended to be the chocolates and back-massages type. He pampered Draco, which suited Draco just fine, though there were those times when Draco wished he would be a little more... assertive. He was never this intense, this insistent, and Draco melted under the rough treatment. Harry sheathed himself in Draco without further delay and Draco cried out, the edge of pain only pushing his ecstasy higher.

Harry sank his teeth into the back of Draco's shoulder as he fucked him, hard thrusts, as if he could barely control himself. Draco began to come almost before he realized it, the intensity of sensation was so high, but there it was, the hot spurts and spasms under him, where Harry's fucking had rubbed Draco against the bedsheets. Circe's tits, Draco thought, I hope I can convince him to do this again.

The first hint that anything might be wrong came shortly after that, when Harry groaned and emptied himself into Draco. Draco felt a stripe of pain on his arm, but dismissed it as a bit of friction burn from the sheets, then forgot it as they both settled back to sleep. Draco wondered if Harry had been sleep-fucking the whole time.

When the charm woke them, Draco was the first to sit up. He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes and failed. The dawn shag had been delicious but ruined his beauty sleep. He had better not have bags under his eyes. "Come on, Harry. Big day today."

Harry merely groaned.

"Fine. I'll shower first." Draco dragged himself to the bathroom.

Harry, for his part, was used to Draco taking forever in the bathroom, and was looking forward to at least a half-hour more snooze time in bed. But he came awake in an instant, when he heard a sound of distress. "Draco? What's wrong?" He rushed to the bathroom door.

Draco stood at sink, staring at his left forearm. He was blinking.

Harry looked down at his lover's arm. Had he broken a nail? "What?"

"I thought I saw the Mark. But now..."

"The Mark!" Harry reached for Draco's arm, as if to look at it more closely. The moment he touched Draco's wrist, though, he saw it, a flicker, a flash of black, and then it was gone. He pulled his hand back. "Oh my god."

Draco leaned against the sink. "It is one year today since you killed him, Harry."

"I know. That's why they're forcing us to get dressed up and go to the Ministry." Harry looked into Draco's eyes in the mirror. "We should tell Kingsley. I'll owl him. Minerva should know, too. And..." The past year had taught Harry a few things, not the least of which was when one's lover looks terrified, the proper thing to do is take him in one's arms. He broke off strategizing for a moment to pull Draco close. Draco could be an annoying, self-centered prat, but Harry was very protective of his annoying self-centered prat.

"Was the past year just a grace period?" Draco said, pressing his face into Harry's shoulder and pitching his voice for maximum melodramatic effect. "Will we never be rid of the evil?"

"Let's not overreact. Plenty of old magics have anniversary effects." Harry rubbed his hands up and down Draco's back and then separated from him reluctantly. Damn, but Draco was hot when he was scared. That was probably why he'd ended up shagging him in the first place during the war. "Let's not panic until we find out more. Will Snape be there today?"

"He'll hate it even more than you will, but he'll be there." Draco sighed. "And yes, I'll talk to him so you won't have to."

"I didn't say I wouldn't..."

"Harry, please. I know you'd fight a dragon bare-handed for me. But it'll be better for all of us if I do it." The last time Snape and Harry'd had a casual conversation, Snape had ended up with donkey ears and Harry'd been unable to eat anything but powdered violets for a week. He couldn't stand the smell of violets to this day.

***

The ceremony was long and boring. The new Minister for Magic was even more of a blowhard than Scrimgeour had been, and lacked his sense of drama, which made it all the more dull. At the reception afterward, Draco managed to bring the incident up with Snape, who had seen nothing of the kind on his own skin, while Harry had a brief conference with Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Two days later three Aurors and two mediwizards at St. Mungo's spent the day checking Draco over with a fine-toothed comb and many other uncomfortable and inappropriate-seeming implements. They found nothing. Draco arrived home that evening annoyed and pissy, and perhaps a bit sore in places he didn't care to think about, but convinced that his body did not harbor the soul of evil. Harry fed him beef bourguignon and sent him to bed.

They forgot about the incident until about a month later, when they stumbled home from Ron and Hermione's anniversary party, so drunk they were both flung from the Floo onto the living room rug. Draco might have a low opinion of the Weasleys, but damn did they know how to throw a party. As they spun from the hearth, Draco landed on his back, Harry partly on top of him, and they lay there panting and laughing for a few moments. Draco waited for Harry to get up first, but then Harry stopped laughing and instead of climbing to his feet, he climbed further onto Draco.

His mouth sought Draco's and the kiss was so full of hunger Draco trembled under it. "Ooh, Harry..."

Harry took out his wand, and Draco expected him to banish their party clothes. Instead, Harry muttered a spell Draco hadn't heard before and with slow sweeps of his wand reduced Draco's robes to slashed tatters. Kinky. Harry's hands reached through the rent garments for Draco's skin, running his hands along Draco's ribs, over his hips. Then he bent his head and tasted the skin of Draco's stomach, his abdomen, his mouth finally closing over his half-hard cock.

Draco moaned as he came to full hardness, as Harry's hands were still busy, tugging at the loose skin around his balls and then teasing his anus. "Merlin, Harry, if I'd known you wanted it this badly, we could have done it in the garden..." He gasped as the Lubrication Charm hit him, cold, sudden, not at all the way Harry usually applied it, but then this wasn't the way Harry usually acted when he was aroused.

Harry was out of his own robes now, and his skin felt feverish against Draco's as Draco let himself be gathered up and bent over the ottoman. The only other time he's taken me like this... began Draco's thought as Harry sank the first inch of his cock into Draco, was that morning...

The realization hit at the same time as the burning pain in his arm. The morning he'd seen the Mark. Now Draco clutched at the ottoman, as Harry's stroke turned to a pounding. He had his eyes clenched tight, but he forced them open, forced himself to let go and look at his arm.

The Mark glistened wetly as if oozing out of his pores and Draco screamed. "Harry! Stop, stop!"

But the answer came as a series of hisses. Parseltongue. Draco swallowed hard, wondering what to do. He tried to escape, to twist out of Harry's embrace, but strong arms held him fast, the right wrapping around his chest, the left his stomach. It would have felt great if not for the fact that Draco was now scared out of his wits.

The left hand slid down to tug at his cock, still hard in spite of the terror. If not for the burning Mark on his arm, he could almost believe this was a trick of Harry's, a kinky game. But the Mark was undeniable. Who knew Voldemort would care enough to reach around?

Fear robbed him of most of the pleasure when he came in milky spurts onto the rug, and then he prayed for it to be over quickly, which it was, as Harry--or the thing which possessed him--came quickly after that.

Harry collapsed onto the floor then, and Draco scrambled up. He threw a handful of Floo powder into the hearth and for one moment considered fleeing, naked and ravaged, right back to the party where he knew most of the Order had probably lingered. Hmm, that would be the talk of Wizarding society for months and would probably scandalize his mother into an early grave. Almost worth it. But he was ultimately more concerned about Harry than himself. Instead he just put his head through, and screamed bloody murder.

***

An hour later Harry was still unconscious, Draco was clothed, and the Mark had once again faded. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley sat on either side of him on the couch, questioning him, while a few others were clustered around Harry.

Arthur was shaking his head. "You're absolutely sure that it wasn't that you both had too much to drink? You didn't imagine it?"

Draco narrowed his eyes to slits. "Just because you don't approve of me and Harry doesn't mean I'm making this up."

"Now, I never said that..." Weasley sputtered, looking to Shacklebolt for help.

Kingsley picked up the questioning. "So you came home, Harry became very... forceful with you, and then... then you saw the Dark Mark." Kingsley looked, if possible, even more uncomfortable than Arthur in discussing the details. Draco was fairly sure he was a closet case, anyway.

"It's not the first time," Draco reminded him. "The first time was the morning of the ceremony. Remember?"

"Harry hadn't mentioned anything about... um..."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm mentioning it now. He plowed me like a freight train that morning and then it appeared."

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, I'd say given what has happened and given all the tests you underwent at St. Mungo's that you are not the problem here. He is."

They all looked where Harry was laid out on the floor, looking for all the world like he was passed out after a night of drunken revelry.

"What do we do now?" Draco asked.

"Snape is on his way," Kingsley said, as if that explained everything.

Later, much later, as Harry slept in bed and a smaller group strategized in the kitchen, Draco decided he didn't much like the more detailed explanation that Snape gave. It didn't matter that this was a group of veterans of the war; Snape still lectured as though they were a class of fourth years. He stood at the refrigerator with his hands folded behind his back and spoke using ten-galleon words.

"I do not believe what we have here is a case of resurrection or possession in traditional terms. This is the good news--the Dark Lord is not returning. The truth of the matter is that Potter has always had a piece of his power lodged in him."

"Then why haven't we seen this before?" Draco asked. "I've been living with him almost a year."

"I postulate that a convergence of circumstances has allowed the power to manifest, including the resonance with the anniversary of the Dark Lord's defeat, and the susceptibility of Mr. Potter to it when in certain states of mind."

"Speak plainly, Snape," said Arthur Weasley. "Resonance? States of mind?"

"What he's trying to say," Draco cut in, "is that something about the anniversary brought this on. Maybe even just Harry thinking about it so much. And as for states of mind, maybe he's more susceptible when he's half-asleep."

"Or drunk," nodded Weasley.

"Or ... aroused," Snape finished, with a glance at Draco.

Draco felt himself blush. He might be a wanton slut in the bedroom but that didn't mean he wanted a bunch of middle-aged wizards discussing his sex life. "Am I in danger?" Draco asked.

Snape met his eyes. "I do not know. Has he acted violently toward you?"

Draco reddened further as he said "Not exactly."

"Could you defend yourself?" Snape drawled.

"I suppose."

Snape drew himself up before the group. "I do not believe you are in immediate danger, then. But this still leaves us the question of what to do with Mr. Potter."

Weasley leaned on the table. "Do? Should we do anything? If it doesn't get worse then..."

"Pardon me, Weasley," Draco interrupted once more, "But I would strongly prefer that every time my own lover gets a little frisky I don't end up raped by the spirit of the Snake King, thank you very much." Even if it was kind of fun. He saw Kingsley stifle a smirk. "What do you suggest, Snape?"

Snape flexed his fingers. "Are you at all familiar with the rites associated with exorcism?"

***

Convincing Harry was the hardest part. Draco'd been the one to tell him.

"God, Draco, I don't remember any of that," he said, as they'd talked it over during breakfast the next morning. (Well, afternoon, really. Who gets up early after a truly historic bender and an evil possession? Not even The Boy Who Lived.)

"Well, it happened," Draco said, buttering his toast viciously.

Harry came around and hugged him from behind. "I'm so sorry. I never want to hurt you."

Draco huffed in irritation. Harry was an extremely considerate lover. The type who came home with champagne and roses, and who could and would suck Draco for hours at a time. But he didn't seem to grasp that the thorny end of the rose could be nice, too... "You didn't hurt me," he said. "It was, um, kind of nice, actually. Except that you were possessed by the Power of Evil, of course."

"And you say Snape can fix it?" Harry took his seat again and smothered a piece of toast with honey.

"Say what you will about him, darling, but he happens to be both brilliant at the Dark Arts and doesn't want to see either of us dead, unlike some other former Death Eaters I could name. You've got honey on your chin," Draco said, as he leaned over to lick it off Harry's face.

In the end it had been Harry who made the final decision that only Snape, Draco, and himself be present for the proceedings. Half the Order wanted to be involved--of course they did, since it nominally involved defeating Voldemort again--but once he had heard some of the details the rite might entail, Harry had put his foot down. Both Snape and Draco had argued this was best left to the Slytherins, and for once they were probably right. That and Harry preferred the fewest number of witnesses possible. In fact, if he'd been able to stand it, he might have even tried to limit it to just himself and Snape, but having Draco there was a comfort he would not give up.

Now he sat crosslegged in the center of a ritual circle, and from where Draco was standing at the side of the room, it looked like the potion Harry had just drunk had a kick like a mule. Snape loomed.

"My god, Snape," Harry said, as he got onto all fours. "What the hell was in that potion? I can't even see straight."

"Have you forgotten that your spectacles are not on your face?" Snape asked. "If so, then the potion is working perfectly. Its purpose is to disconnect you from reality, to parallel the dream state or the drunken state you were in when the power last manifested."

"Thank you, Mister Exposition," Harry retorted, and Draco was glad Harry did not have his wand. Snape had really not appreciated the week with donkey ears.

"Well, Potter? Any surges of evil power?"

"Not yet," Harry answered, though he waved his hand in front of his eyes in apparent fascination.

"May I suggest we proceed to the next phase of the experiment?" Snape said softly.

Draco knew the potion was working when Harry did not even hesitate to slip open his robes--he wasn't wearing anything underneath for just this purpose--and waved his dick at Snape. Any inhibitions he had were definitely blown away.

It wasn't long before he was hard and panting, tugging on his cock with abandon.

Draco paced the short wall of the Manor's dungeon. Snape's eyes were fixed on Harry's erection, his expression as cold and severe as ever, yet his eyes did not waver. This was the part of the plan that Draco disliked the most, and he was sure it was the part that later Harry would want Obliviated from his memory. Really. Harry could barely stand to be in the same room with the former Potions professor, and now he had to wank in front of him?

Suddenly Harry shrugged out of the robe entirely and lay back on it, tugging furiously on his meat and making a sound deep in his throat. Snape knelt by him, asking if he was all right.

Harry's unused hand then closed over Snape's forearm and Draco saw Snape double over in pain.

"No," Snape roared, a command to Draco not to cross the circle. Then he could say no more as Harry toppled him and kissed him.

No, Harry definitely wasn't going to want to remember this. Draco was sure of it. He watched in horror as Harry, naked and erect, humped Snape even as he fought for Snape's wand. He had gotten himself between Snape's trousered legs. Draco bit his lip--the sight was infuriating, as jealousy surged through him, and arousing as he watched them tumble back and forth.

Snape, fortunately for both of them, was the better fighter, and he not only kept his grip on his wand, he eventually was able to Stupefy Harry, who went limp on top of him. Snape crawled out from under the body, stood, and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He took down the wards and cleared the circle, then tended to Harry, turning him onto his back.

Draco was there in an instant. "I thought once the power manifested, all you had to do was speak the incantation to banish it."

Snape bristled under the criticism. "I'd like to see you try to incant fourteen lines of Latin while, as you so succinctly put it, the Snake King is trying to rape you."

The next surge that went through Draco then was not fear--it was certainty. "Okay. Sure. Teach me the incantation."

Snape's sharp look was a rebuke. "That is insanity. There is too much chance you will get it wrong if you are... distracted."

"Fine. Then you say the incantation, but let him maul me instead." Draco began to unbutton his robe.

"I don't think that now..."

"Snape, think. What's going to happen when we Ennervate him?" He pointed to Harry's erection, which throbbed in time with his heart.

"Hmm, you may be correct. One normally does not maintain tumescence while stupefied."

In other words, that is one evil hard on, Draco thought. He tossed his robes into the corner. "Give me a minute."

Snape nodded, and went to rebuild the warding of the circle.

Draco knelt next to Harry. "Well, lover," he said. "I always said I wanted it rougher. I suppose this is yet another case of 'be careful what you wish for.'" He ran his fingers over the silken hardness of Harry's erection, squeezing a bit of pre-come from the tip. He bent over and licked the dewy drop, then sat back on his heels. He cast a slow, warm, Lubrication Charm on himself and then stroked his own erection until he was hard.

"I'm ready, Snape."

The dark form of his old professor loomed behind him. "Very well. Ennervate."

Harry surged up, and Draco could see a red gleam in his eyes. Harry's tongue darted out of his mouth as his gaze fixed on Draco.

"What are you waiting for, Snape?" Draco said, as Harry crawled onto him.

"For the monster to be sufficiently... engaged."

Draco bit his lip as Harry stuffed his cock into his arse, wrapping his legs around him to improve the angle. Then Harry began to speak in Parseltongue--Draco wondered what he was saying. Did snakes talk dirty? What would Voldemort consider dirty talk, anyway? Hey, pretty baby, you're such a slut, I'm going to kill all the Muggleborns in Surrey for you...?

Meanwhile, Snape had begun his incantation.

"Harder," Draco said into Harry's ear, as he gripped him by the shoulders. "Come on, I can take it."

And he could. They were face to face and Draco had never had a pounding like this one, but damn it felt good. Okay, sure, it was Voldemort, but it was Harry's body, Harry's cock, Harry the way he had always wanted him.

"Oh, yes, Harry, yes..." he said, as his arousal mounted and he clenched tighter.

There was a sound like a thunderclap and Draco smelled ozone in the air. He brought his legs up, and with the change in angle Harry was able to move faster and yet deeper at the same time.

"Harder," Draco pleaded. "Oh, come on, Harry, don't let up now."

Harry didn't. He did say something, though, in English, which sounded to Draco like "ohmyfuckinggod..." and then very clearly "Draco..."

"I'm going to come, Harry," Draco said, through gritted teeth. "Don’t you dare back off now."

"Not... going... to..." Harry managed as he exerted himself thoroughly in the activity of slamming his meat into Draco's ass.

When Draco came, he nearly blacked out, as every nerve in his body seemed to twang at once. He came so hard he hit himself in the eye with his come and pulled a muscle in his leg. It hardly mattered. "Circe's tits, Harry. I've never come so hard in my life."

"I didn't even have to touch your cock."

"That was the fucking best sex I've ever had."

Harry slid out of him with a groan, quite spent himself. "Why didn't you tell me you liked it like that? My god, I would have been banging you much harder all along."

"You would? You will?" Draco pulled Harry down for a sweaty kiss.

The sound of a throat clearing from above them made them look up. Snape was looking down his long nose. "I believe the exorcism has been successful. If you two don't mind, I'll take my leave now."

Draco waved a hand at his retreating back. "We'll owl you the next time the Spirit of Evil shows up!" And to think I have Voldemort to thank for this. Fate works in strange ways.

Harry was nuzzling insistently behind his ear, interrupting his interior monologue. "I want you again."

"Already?"

"Hey, I missed half of last time because I was possessed. Seems hardly fair."

"And, um, Harry? Will you speak Parseltongue? Goddamn, I never knew it was so sexy."


-fin-


[If you would like to read all my H/D fics and my other smutty Potterverse stories, friend my LJ: Http://ravenna-c-tan.livejournal.com]