Duty-Bound

Duty-Bound

By WiseHeart a.k.a. WiseDraco & darkmosmordreheart

Summary: D&H. Draco Malfoy is a demon straight out of Hell and now, Hell wants him back. Creature fic. After Hogwarts.

Warnings: Slash, sex, language, mentions of rape, violence, crazy Draco . . . just about everything else.

Disclaimer: Neither WheezyD nor ChikitaB are the British woman responsible for some of the greatest literature in existence. Sad, yes, we know.

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Prologue

"Please, help me . . ."

Harry Potter found himself staring into hooded silver eyes that had spent so long despising him; they found it hard to plead. His first instinct was to turn away, to leave the blonde to his own accord, but something was there, in the smaller boy's voice, something Harry never expected to hear from a Malfoy's voice; desperation.

"I'll do anything, Potter...please, help me." And then Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Slytherin, fell to his knees and gripped at Harry's robe. The dark haired wizard stood in shock as he stared down at the shaking blond head. He could see evidence of Draco's tears staining his trainers. He looked back and forth quickly to see if anyone was on the street before yanking the young man up to his feet and pulling him into the house. He didn’t notice the man with long braided hair and lilac eyes standing just across the street.

"Just what the hell are you playing at, Malfoy? Tears won't trick me," Harry snarled weakly, uncertainty coloring his voice. He slammed the door behind him so hard; the stained glass that adorned it rattled fiercely. He turned back to his unwelcome guest with a look of bored reluctance that completely belied the hot anger he felt coursing through his veins.

"Potter . . . Harry, please! I'm-I'm begging!" the other man said, managing a look of hopelessness even as he was falling back onto his knees, shaking like a wet dog instead of the pampered prince he was. "This isn't a trick," the blonde insisted, pale gray eyes struggling to plead silently as well. "Anything. I'll give you anything . . . do anything, Harry."

"Get the fuck away from me, Malfoy," the dark haired boy said flatly, attempting to kick the smaller man away, but Draco held tight to the hem of his robes.

“I’m not spoiled goods, Harry…” the blonde purred trying to appear worldly and tempting, but his eyes betrayed him, their stormy depths glowing with desperation. “No matter what rumors you hear. No one has ever touched me. Ever. I know what you like, Potter, I’ll give it to you.”

"What the fuck Malfoy!?" Harry's eyes widened at what Draco meant. No, not money. Money he could easily refuse, but this . . . the tempting promise in the eyes he gazed down upon . . . "Are you offering yourself to me!?"

"If I have to." Draco stated, standing a moment before he pressed himself flush against Harry and slanted his mouth to the taller boy's. After a few seconds of Harry standing there shocked he shoved Draco away so roughly the blonde fell to the ground in a heap.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Harry repeated, Draco stood up in one fluid motion.

"I need your help...and I don't care what it costs me." The teasing gray eyes suddenly changed, panic filled they pleaded with Harry. "I'll do anything. Please help me.”

What Harry said next seemed to have shocked the Slytherin to the core.

“Why?”

Pale, trembling lips fell open as if words were going to miraculously find their way out of his mouth, but his jaw immediately snapped shut when he realized he had nothing to say. This was the savior of the Wizarding world? A man who had selfishly rejected the needs of another. This was the man meant to save them all? He looked into Harry’s angry gaze and found more weariness than anger.

No, the savior wasn’t heartless; just tired. Draco struggled to find the words. "Because you’re good...you have to help me! Please!"

"Good? Good!?" Harry let out a bark of what should have resembled laughter and turned away from the other man to run shaky fingers through the tangles of thick hair on his head.

"Yes, good! You're fighting for the light side! Dammit! I'll do whatever you want!!"

"You don't have anything I want, Malfoy," Harry snapped coldly, whipping around and beginning to pace back and forth. “No amount of money would be sufficient for me to want to help you, so all you have to give is your body, huh?”

He glanced up and saw the man who still stood trembling at the front door redden with shame, but Draco said nothing to dispute Harry’s words. He even nodded.

"Would you stay on your knees for me, Draco?" Draco nodded fiercely, falling to his knees four what seemed like the millionth time that night.

"Please . . . Harry . . ." Draco crawled to him, his line of vision steadily trained to the hardwood below him.

"Beg for it, Draco," Harry growled through clenched teeth, his face a mask of disgust that the other man's eyes were careful to avoid.

"Please, Harry please!"

When the blonde was at his feet once more, Harry leaned forward, just enough so that the skin of his cheek skimmed the skin of Draco's. "No."

Platinum hair flared out in all directions as Draco's head shot up "How dare you! How dare you reject me! I’ve offered you all I have! Y-You can’t refuse to help me!”"

"How dare I?" Harry smirked, leaning against the wall behind him and crossing his arms. "You offered me everything. I have chosen to take nothing."

Draco barely concealed his sudden, violent flinch, but Harry saw it. All the anger faded from his face and he paled incredibly, his skin going from ivory to a sickly white; pale as snow.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry looked down at the trembling frame, crumpled on the ground before him. The blonde's head was in his shaking hands, his shoulders were slumped with defeat, his body tired and helpless. Harry looked down at the trembling frame, crumpled on the ground before him. The blonde's head was in his shaking hands, his shoulders were slumped with defeat, his body tired and helpless.

“I’ve killed her. I've killed my own mother.” The statement caught Harry's attention more than Draco's pleading face did, after all Malfoy's were best known for lying.

"What?"

"My mother. He's going to kill her, but you have to save her, Harry, please. She didn't know what she was doing when she married my father, she didn’t know he would be so loyal to Voldemort. She should have left him before I was born." Harry stared, Draco Malfoy the most narcissistic person to ever live was basically wishing he had never been born? Before Harry knew it he was voicing a response.

“I’ll help your mum,” he said quietly, sliding down the wall and sinking to the floor to become eye-level with the dazed look on Draco’s face. He had no idea why he agreed to help, maybe because he didn’t want another to suffer the fate of losing a mother, but he had agreed and he would help. The blonde looked as if he didn’t know what to do, he just sat in shocked silence, wondering about the total 180 Harry had performed.

“Harry?”

The dark-haired man nodded and gave a small smile. “I’ll help you, Draco, but . . .”

Draco’s heart sank as Harry’s voice faded away. He should have known . . . nothing was ever free.

Harry jerked back and hit his head terribly on the wall behind him when he suddenly found himself with a mouthful of Draco Malfoy’s tongue. What he assumed was innocent gratefulness soon turned into something more. Long, slender hands found their way into his robe and were now stroking his skin suggestively. His body arched involuntarily, but his mind quickly registered what this was. It was payment. He gently curled his hands around delicate wrists and pushed the blonde away. "You don't have to. I'll help. I just . . . need your word. You have to remain on the light side. You and your mother, Malfoy."

Harry tried to ignore the shocked albeit embarrassed expression of his opposite as Draco pulled back. The blonde recovered quickly and set his jaw in determination.

"You have my word, sworn on my magic," said the urgently anxious man.

"You don't even know what you’re promising yet, Draco," Harry chuckled humorlessly.

"It doesn't matter. Just help my mother."

"You're really scared." Harry stated; it wasn't a question. A softer edge of the Malfoy facade seemed to settle on the blonde's features.

"Yes."

"You have sworn yourself to me." Harry said. Draco's face didn't change.

"Very well. And you promise to protect my mother?"

"On my magic...I swear to protect your mother until my last breath."

They clasped hands and a single dark ribbon of smoke shot out and linked them together; mind, body, and soul.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Four Years Later . . .

‘Wake up . . .’

Harry let out a loud snore and flipped over onto his stomach.

‘Harry . . . Wake up, Harry . . .’

A small groan sounded in the dark bedroom, but Harry still remained in deep slumber.

‘Harry . . . Harry . . . Wake up, you filthy, lazy Mudblood!’

“Hmm?” Harry mumbled yawning loudly; his eyes in the same shut tight position they were before. “Tom?” he asked aloud, then went directly to speaking to Tom with his mind. When Harry had first discovered that the former Dark Lord had someone been lodged into his brain and would not leave he had spoken to the incessantly annoying man aloud and he could remember the looks he had gotten for that. “Not now, go back to sleep. Dream of Wormtail or Dumbledore or whoever it is you dream about . . .”

‘Wake up!’

“Go to sleep.”

‘Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.’

“Do you need help or something? Here, try counting the Death Eaters jumping over dead Muggles.”

'I can go on like this for a while, Harry . . . wake up wake up wake up . . . time to get up . . . you have to piss, I know it. So wake up . . . and I do not dream of anything, you know that. Only you dream and I am lowered to watching that plebeian theatre. Are you really that loud when you have sex?'

“One Death Eater jumping over a dead Muggle. Two Death Eaters jumping over a dead Muggle . . .”

‘But why do you make so much noise?’

“Fine! I’m getting up!”

‘But why the noise, Harry?’

“Have you ever had sex, scaly-butt?” Harry asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rubbing his knobby knees. “Noise is a good thing.”

‘Ahhh Oh YES, right there---’ Tom mocked, Harry stopped him,

“Hit it. Hit it. Hit it. Yes, I know, Tom. I was there.”

‘Hm, yes . . . but who were you doing? And why do you always do blondes?’

“Because, obviously, blondes have more fun . . . stop with the questions, already! I said I was getting up,” he yawned, scrubbing a hand over his face and sparing a glance to the large green letters of his digital clock. “What the bloody hell---Tom! It’s four in the morning!”

‘Oh, is it? Hmm . . . didn’t know that . . . You have to pee, anyway.’

“Yes, I am aware of my bodily function, Tom.” He stood unsteadily and cautiously moved across the room. He swung the door to his bathroom open and dragged himself towards the toilet.

‘I’m bored. Entertain me.’

“Bloody bitter . . . How about I entertain you by singing along to the sound of my piss? Doesn’t that sound lovely? Singing in the rain---”

‘Shut up or I will wake you up at 4 am for the rest of your pitiful life.’

“Oh, then how will I wake up to your angelic tones ever again?” Harry asked, marking his sincerity with a flush of the toilet. He moved to wash his hands, then picked up his toothbrush.

‘Exactly, now you see the problem. And this is your entire fault, anyway. You’re the one who killed me.’

“You’re not dead! If you really were, I would still be asleep!” he snapped with a mouth full of minty foam.

‘Well, I’m not very well alive . . . I don’t have my own body. You could always get me one and then this little issue would all be a thing of the past. You could sleep whenever you wanted.’

“Do you remember what happened the last time you had a body, mister? We are not going through that again. Besides, how could you ever live without me?”

‘I think I’d manage very well . . . killing Muggles . . . hacking Mudbloods to bits . . . it would be rather satisfying. In fact, it sounds divine. Someone is at the door.’

“Yeah, I assume it would be,” Harry sighed, splashing water on his face. “What about the door?”

As if on cue the doorbell went off.

‘The doorbell is ringing . . . ninny.’

Harry ignored the ringing, even as it went off again, wary that it was just Tom screwing with his thoughts again.

“You’re the nin-" Again the ringing went off, Harry threw up his hands in frustration and began to make his way toward the living room. "Who the hell is at the door at four in the morning?!” Harry complained out loud, “It better not be that Mrs. Priggins come to discuss the size of Cissy’s garden again! ‘It clearly crosses into my lawn, Mr. Potter. I could call authorities about this!’” he mocked in Mrs. Priggins shrill voice as their visitor gave up on the bell and began to knock excessively.

‘You should hack her to bits.’

“Why is that your solution to everything?” Harry asked absently, turning the corner to the front foyer and trying to see the outline of their guest through the stained glass.

The figure shifted and resorted to pounding on the door.

‘Because" Tom started then growled in frustration, "MERLIN! Answer the door!’

“FINE!” Harry reached out and swung the door open. A man stood before him and though he wore Muggle clothing, every cell in Harry’s body told him otherwise. The man had a long ponytail that seemed to be comprised of all colors; auburn, sienna, ebony, ivory, silver, gold . . . It trailed lazily over his shoulder, the tip of it almost touching his hip. If Harry couldn’t already sense the magic of the man standing opposite of him, the man’s eyes would have confirmed it. They were an unnatural lilac color. Pale and almost liquid in appearance, the steady gaze disconcerted him. But what bothered Harry most of all was the bloody form the man cradled to his side like a child or something precious.

“Draco?”