Dark

A/N: This came about a personal challenge--a fellow fanfiction writer remarked how many fandoms will have stories that follow a typical romance form and how few "dark" fictions there actually are and the ones that are usually involve angst or self-harm. So, I took it upon myself to write a work for each of the fandoms I play in. It broke my heart to do it and was very difficult since the end couldn't be happy. It isn't exactly what I set out to do since I refused to include self-harm, etc, but it is finished, no happy ending and the challenge is complete.

Forgive me!

Dark

The war was over and Draco Malfoy was destined for Azkaban. Despite his efforts with potions and healing for the Order, the Wizengamot had decided to make Draco a scapegoat for his deceased father's errors. The Malfoy fortune would go to line the pockets of powerful politicians and Draco would be forgotten inside the bleakest, darkest, dampest corner of Azkaban.

Until Harry Potter woke up and testified for him.

An agreement had been reached after that. Instead of Azkaban, Draco was put under house arrest in the home of his savior, Harry Potter, for a month and after that, Draco was free. He would receive his entire inheritance and he would have his wand.

He agreed since his only other choice was Azkaban and Draco rather preferred being sane.

So he was brought to Grimmauld Place, where he had stayed for most of the war, and the Aurors conversed with Potter privately, all of them glancing at Draco now and again, almost as human slave traders would a piece of flesh.

It was relatively quiet that first week and Draco was glad for it. He managed to catch up on the sleep he had missed during the war and managed to finally get his hair to cooperate with his efforts to behave. He was vain, he was unafraid to admit that.

It was in his second week that he felt something off inside the house. He was unable to find the source, but several days of careful observation and he found out that the source was his fellow resident, Harry Potter. He thought at first that the cause was the sheer amount of magic Potter had at his disposal and Draco assumed he had missed it before because of the number of wizards and witches who regularly resided and walked about in the house during the war.

He knew later that he was wrong.

He woke on the night of the new moon, needing to relieve his bladder, and happened to spy a streak of light from the living room. He followed it and was surprised at what he saw.

Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world and its darling, was practicing Dark, Dark magic.

Draco went back upstairs and as soon as the door was shut, started laughing. He didn't know if this would be irony or just plain hilarious.

The next morning, he didn't think so.

Potter was wide awake despite the ritual he had performed and Draco wondered if his initial assumption had been correct, a little anyway. He wondered if Potter had so much excess magical energy that he felt almost no exhaustion when performing even the most difficult of spells.

Nevertheless, Draco knew that even Voldemort, who had held considerable magical energy and talent, would tire after performing the ceremonies he used and that Harry Potter did not...well, it disturbed Draco on a level that he disliked.

Over the rest of his time under Potter's roof, he watched his former school rival and was disturbed even deeper as he watched the former hero descend into Darkness. He wondered if the Weasel and Granger had noted.

~~~

"Malfoy," Potter called as Draco passed the living room on his way up to bed.

Draco backtracked and raised an eyebrow at the state of the room. It wasn't messy, no. Instead, candles were lit and a circle of runes was in on the floor. A tome that looked older than the house lay next to Potter where the other boy sat on the floor.

"I need your help," Potter said.

Draco shrugged. "I'll help if I can." He didn't have to say it was because he was afraid that if he refused, Potter would allow the Ministry to send him to Azkaban, but he knew Potter understood.

Potter pointed to the floor directly across from him. Draco sat, wondering what sort of Dark magic Potter was attempting now that needed such runes as sex, energy, and stamina. Potter handed over the book for Draco to look over.

"Sex magic is banned by the Ministry for a reason, Potter," Draco pointed out. "They'll know the moment you cast anything to do with it."

"They'll know if I cast it with my wand," Potter corrected.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he handed over the book. It was a simple ceremony and he knew he was game for trying it. "Wandless, then?" When Potter nodded, Draco sighed. "And I suppose I'm to trust you not to harm me?"

"You know you want to try," Potter whispered. His eyes bored into Draco's as the dark haired wizard crawled over to Draco. He licked Draco's neck. "Can you even imagine how good it'll feel, sharing my magic?" Draco gasped when he felt said magic reach out to him.

"I'll do it," Draco whispered.

Potter smiled wickedly and pulled Draco into the circle even as he kneeled. Potter flicked his wrist and they were sans clothing. Draco gasped as skin touched skin. Potter was hot and welcoming, his magic enveloping Draco.

"Perfect," Potter whispered. He started chanting, his hand encircling both their erections, and Draco struggled to keep his eyes open against the sudden waves of sexual energy that was surrounding them.

Potter's other hand reached down to stroke Draco's arse, his finger dancing ever closer to the hole. Draco groaned, burying his head in Potter's neck, biting and licking and sucking, thrusting his hips into Potter's hand. Their magic meet and opposed for a brief second until they intertwined, sending a sensual ripple of need through both wizards.

"Fuck," Draco groaned. He needed to come, but knew he wouldn't until Potter commanded it.

"I'm going to be taking from you," Potter whispered.

Draco nodded. "I know. Take it, I want you to."

Potter growled, his finger pushing into Draco's arse and Draco keened. It was dry and fucking hurt and he wanted more. Potter's magic was rushing back into its wizard and with it, a bit of Draco's. Draco was gasping and groaning and bucking his hips, needing to come. His eyelids fluttered even as he struggled to not pass out until the ritual was done. He somehow doubted passing out before Potter had his fill would not make Potter pleasant to live with.

"Now, Malfoy," Potter said. "Come now."

Draco tilted his head back and came in a rush, colors dancing behind his closed eyelids. His magic rushed out of him and he felt it run straight to Potter.

When he opened his eyes, Potter was grinning. "Thank you."

Draco nodded and passed out.

~~~

It had been a couple of weeks since Draco had been granted his freedom and he was glad that he had finally learned from Potter wandless magic. He was proficient in the skill and now was able to do Dark Magic without the Ministry finding out. For all intents and purposes, Draco would be a model citizen, donating to charities and aid the offices in charge of improving Muggle relations.

In the dark of night, however, he would seek out Potter for any Dark rituals. After that first time, Potter had asked Draco to be present for nearly all ceremonies and rituals and they took and gave in equal measure.

Not that they liked each other. In fact, their hatred was as alive as ever and it only added fuel to the fire of the ceremonies and rituals. Dark Magic needed Dark emotions after all and their hatred was like the Muggle gasoline.

Draco smiled to himself as he finally opened his father's hidden study in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. It was here that the family had kept their darkest artifacts and books away from the hands of Ministry officials. Oh, a few things had been brought out from time to time to appease those fools, but the rest was safely hidden behind the wards of the Manor so it was undetectable.

After dismissing quite a few books for their simplicity, he yelled in delight when he found the right one.

Now how did he contact Potter about this book?

~~~

The hall was too brightly lit and Draco longed for something darker, like the dungeons of his manor or even Potter's home. He wondered how anyone else stood it. He drank his champagne in a dark corner, scanning all the attendees of the Charity Ball being thrown in Potter's honor.

He doubted that Potter gave two shits, but Potter would inevitable show up.

In the time since he had been released into society, he had discovered that Potter was up to no good. Draco was not going to stop the man, far from it; he intended to help Potter. He had not agreed with Voldemort's policies and ideals, but Draco suspected that Potter would bring darkness to the wizarding world without endangering its citizens and would also manage to reveal their world to the Muggles.

Draco longed to savor the chaos that would certainly result from it.

When Potter showed up, it seemed like the entire hall had been put under a Silencing Spell. Far from the scruffy, ill-fitting look Potter had sported throughout his entire school career, he was wearing a fitting dark green robe, black trousers, and a green button up. He was without his glasses and Draco noted that it would be easier for their rituals if they did not have to worry about the insipid things.

Potter also carried himself as the powerful wizard he was. He commanded the attention of all those in the room and his eyes sparked with the magic he had.

On his arm was a pretty creature, far prettier than that Ginevera Weasley, and Draco wondered if she had more than a few brain cells. She was dressed up for the occasion and clutched at Potter's arm, looking a little dazed.

She'd probably been picked up a mere four hours ago and dolled up and made ready to return to wherever she'd come from as soon as the night was over. It was Potter's usual habit now.

The night wore on and Draco ensured that he did not go near Potter so the public did not think Potter was being tainted by him or that he was hanging onto Potter like the pretty doll on his arm.

When Potter excused himself and exited toward the bathrooms, Draco followed.

He caught the hero and pulled them into a closet, casting several charms and wards to keep others out of their business. And since the Minister had been giving a speech, no others had been in the hall to have seen Draco pull Potter into said closet.

"I have found a rather interesting book for you," he said. He took the miniature book out of his pocket and handed it over. "I've bookmarked the page."

Potter raised his eyebrow, but returned the book to its proper size and flipped to the page. He read quickly and then shut it. "I like it. The new moon?"

"The new moon."

~~~

There was cloud cover that night and Draco felt the wild, dark, raw magic creeping along the streets as he walked to the chosen site for the ritual. It was far from either of their homes and an entirely Muggle village. There would be no chance for interruption that night.

"Potter," he greeted and put down the bag of the necessary ingredients for the ritual. They had agreed to bring half each of what was needed.

Potter merely held out his hand and Draco handed over everything in order. Ten minutes later and Draco's blood was pouring into the cauldron. He drank the Blood-Replenishing potion he'd brought and then handed Potter one after Potter added his own blood.

The potion they'd created simmered and frothed, a dark purple color that spoke of things that had been long forgotten. Potter looked up. "It's ready. Are you?"

Draco smirked and disrobed. He stood across from Potter and together they drank a cup of the foul liquid. Potter tossed the cauldron to the side as he leaped across the circle to devour Draco's lips. They bit and scratched each other, wrestling for the right to top. Draco gave in, being the lesser wizard, and he cried out when Potter went in dry and without preparation.

Potter was chanting and Draco joined in when he was called to. His blood was spilling from his hand where it had reopened and he grabbed Potter's similarly bleeding hand. Their blood mingled as their magic rejoined like old friends.

When they came, their magic exploded, ripping trees out by the roots and scattering wood debris for fifty miles.

"I don't think the Ministry will have missed that," Draco said.

Potter smirked. With his face half-cloaked in shadow, he looked like the Dark wizard he was and more. "They won't know. I put up a very old, very ancient ward that they have forgotten about. Keeps out detection. Ancient tribes used it to prepare for war."

Draco laughed even as wolf howled in the distance.

~~~

When a cup of tea exploded as Draco tried to call it to him, he knew the ritual had worked.

It felt amazing, knowing that he had accumulated that much magic.

He wondered if Potter felt the same, knowing that they had accomplished far beyond what Voldemort ever had.

In fact, Draco would say that they had done what no other wizard or witch had done for several centuries.

And next, the wizarding world, Draco thought.

~~~

Several years down the road, Draco was in a manor he shared with Potter and he looked back on what had been accomplished and how. After that ceremony when they both had increased their magic, Potter had really gotten his hands in the political mess of the Ministry and used his considerable influence to manipulate the employees into doing what he wanted.

All without a single drop of Dark magic. It had been accomplished on nothing but charm and charisma.

It was when rumors started flying about how Potter had too much power, that perhaps it was time to bind Potter's magic, that the Dark magic came in handy. One by one, silently, those rumor mongers had vanished into the night. To keep all suspicions at bay, Potter had allowed the Aurors to investigate it all and even had killed some minor, unimportant people so it would not seem as though only those against Potter were vanishing.

Potter had found a simpering, weak, low-rung Ministry official to take over as Minister of Magic and it had only taken a few placed words to convince the man to take on the challenge. With Potter backing the man, the public had elected the official within five years.

Shortly after, Potter had several agents across the globe perform magic before Muggles and the Aurors had been outnumbered. Unable to Obliviate them, the Muggles who had seen spread the word, using their cellular phones and still photos. A few factions had attempted to begin the witch hunts anew, but Potter's people had stopped them.

Instead, Potter's elected man stepped forward and created a new treaty, one which would bind all wizards and Muggles. If a wizard or Muggle breached the peace between the two societies, a death sentence was guaranteed and anyone found conspiring to breach the peace, a life sentence in Azkaban with the returned Boggarts was immediate.

When it had all been accomplished, Potter "retired" to northern England, presumably to live out his life in peace.

Draco chuckled. Oh, how wrong they had been.

Potter had intended to retire, yes, he had. As he confessed later to Draco, he had started using Dark magic to silence any who opposed him. When his vision of a perfect world had been reached, he swore he'd stop using.

Draco found himself dragged out of his family home half a year after Potter had "retired" and into an opulent castle. It had been abandoned when Potter had bought it and renovated it. An army of house-elves kept it immaculate and bowed to every whim of Potter's.

In the dungeons, Potter had built a library of the books he'd used during his years of building a perfect world and all the little extras he had used. He'd locked it and turned away from it. If he stepped within a few feet of it, he would be thrown across the Atlantic. Rather clever, really.

But the call of the Dark magic was too strong and after several attempts to open the doors, Potter had broken down and called on Draco who opened the door with only a twist of his wrist. Potter had cried out in joy and ran in, fingers trailing over every little part of the room.

And then...

Well, then...Potter had unleashed chaos onto the world. Since his magic was undetectable to the Ministry and since he had placed that ward around his home to keep the Ministry from detecting the Dark magic ceremonies and rituals, Potter was able to break the law and breach the peace between the two societies with no consequence.

Except, of course, the inevitable effects of using Dark magic.

Draco had several years ahead of him since he had not used as much as Potter had and had been moved into the manor some months ago to care for the aging wizard. The house-elves refused to go near him, sensing what their master had turned into.

"Malfoy," Potter called.

Draco walked forward, practicing disinterest. He sat on the chair that he'd placed beside Potter's bed. "Yes?"

Potter coughed, blood dribbling out of his chin. "Kill me, please."

Draco smirked and shook his head. "No. I won't."

Potter let out an inhuman roar and the decanter of wine on the dresser flew across the room, brushing Draco's cheek. Draco didn't flinch at all. Potter fell back against the pillows. "I hate you."

Draco nodded and cleared away the blood that had poured out of Potter's mouth. "I know. But you've only got me."

Potter's eyes cut into Draco's. "I know you did it on purpose, that spell all those years ago. When we both increased our magic. You knew what that would do to me."

Draco shrugged innocently. "Of course. I have centuries of Malfoy breeding, Potter. I can resist the call. But you...the wizarding world's Golden Boy, you had no defense against it."

The glasses that went with the decanter also flew off the shelf. Draco chuckled. "Your aim is getting worse."

"My control is getting worse," Potter croaked.

"It happens with all Dark wizards," Draco said. "Tell me truthfully, please. Was it really that horrible these last years, tormenting Muggles and wizards alike? It was fun for me, watching as they died or were tortured in a number of ways."

There was silence for a moment and then Potter said, "I always felt some pride and happiness when I tortured the Death Eaters in the war. And when I killed the opposition when I was setting up my empire, it felt amazing. So, yes, it was fun these last years. I would not have changed a thing."

Draco cooed. "I'm glad, Potter." He stood and opened the curtains. He waved his hand and the entire window transformed into a viewing portal. He stepped back. "This is the latest battle. It has been going on for the last couple of days and no one is really winning yet. Only loosing. It's been rather delicious."

Potter smiled. "Thank you. I miss this when you don't leave it open for me to watch."

Draco bent and kissed Potter's forehead. "I have to see to the house-elves. They're worried about something. I'll see you later."

Potter waved his hand, neither of them noticing when a wall sconce broke into a thousand pieces.

Later that night, watching the battle still being waged, Draco felt pride.

He, Draco Malfoy, had managed to destroy Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Now that was something to celebrate. He'd make sure to tell his son when he visited the little one in Germany next month.

It certainly was something that would live on in the family for generations to come.

FIN