Comments: Written for oconel as part of the hp_loveletters fic fest.
Draco Malfoy grimaced as he rested his forehead against the cold stone of the shower wall. Professor Snape had given him a potion to dull the pain, but he could still feel his skin splitting apart as Potter bellowed SECTUMSEMPRA!. Everything that had happened from that moment onwards seemed less than real somehow. It was like his brain was refusing to accept what had happened. The only thing it seemed able to acknowledge was the pain.
Grainy images flashed before his eyes as the water ran down his back. Potter's face, scarlet with rage. Snape suddenly appearing in the background, his velvety voice cracking with anger. Potter, no longer scarlet, but porcelain white, clearly scared. Over it all, his skin tore itself apart.
Draco had never heard of sectumsempra before Harry had screamed it at him. It seemed to be some type of Dark Magic and his father had seen to it that he knew all there was to know about that particular discipline. So why had he never heard of it? One thing was certain, there had been hatred behind the spell. Pure, unbridled hatred. Draco knew that he and Harry were rivals, but Potter was the poster child for the good guys. He wasn't supposed to hate anyone. Disagree with their methods, yes. Crusade to stop them, of course, but hate them? Dumbledore's entire philosophy was based on love, and yet there was Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, seething with hatred and rage.
Hatred and rage he had directed at Draco. And what for? Some adolescent taunts? What reason did Harry have to hate him so much? If anything, it was Draco who should have been running around the castle casting Dark spells directed at Harry. If it wasn't for him, Draco wouldn't be trapped. If Harry fucking Potter had died as a baby - like he had been supposed to - then none of this would be happening. He had plenty of reasons to hate Harry, but what fucking right did Harry fucking Potter have to hate him?
The pain surged to the front of his mind again, interrupting his thoughts of Saint bloody Potter. Grimacing again, he tried to let the sensation of the hot water push the pain away. Gradually, his hand drifted downwards, seeking a distraction from it all.
* * * *
With an exasperated sigh, Harry Potter gave up on sleep. He'd been tossing and turning in bed for what seemed like hours, but his mind just refused to turn off. He couldn't stop thinking about Draco Malfoy.
Not, he had to admit, that that was exactly unusual these days. He honestly could not understand why Ron and Hermione weren't interested in what Draco had been up to all year. The little weasel was clearly doing something, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that it probably wasn't something good. This was Draco Malfoy, after all, the bloody poster boy for Voldemort and the Dark Arts.
Things were a bit different tonight though. He wasn't trying to figure out what Draco was hiding, he was thinking about how he had almost killed him. Harry was torn between some kind of loyalty to the Prince, who had never steered him wrong before, and a desperate wish that he had never set eyes on the page containing the sectumsempra spell. 'For enemies.' That could have meant anything! There was absolutely no way he could have know what the spell would do.
"Which is why you shouldn't have used it," a small voice in the back of his head pointed out. Harry frowned. Malfoy had tried to cast cruciatus, so why shouldn't he have used it? It had been instinct. He hadn't had time to stop and consider the moral viewpoints of using an unknown spell. It had been self-defence, plain and simple.
But that still didn't seem to make it right.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Draco lying on the bathroom floor, blood pouring from his face and chest. He saw the shock in Draco's eyes, and the pure outrage in Snape's.
But he hadn't meant it.
Not that anyone seemed to bloody believe that. Hermione, especially, had been doubtful, prattling on about the dangers of using anything connected to the Prince. Ginny had been the only one with anything vaguely comforting to say. She had been right too. Malfoy had been about to cast and Unforgivable Curse at him. Only no one seemed to care about that, did they?
Harry's anger levels rose with every breath he took. One thing was absolutely crystal clear - this was all Draco sodding Malfoy's fault. If the little prick hadn't been running around the castle trying to be all secretive and stealthy, Harry wouldn't have been trying to find him, and if he hadn't tried to cast an Unforgivable, Harry would never had had to use the Prince's spell. He pulled the Marauder's Map out of his bag and muttered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Lines spread across the parchment and he followed them closely, looking for Draco. A few seconds later, he found him.
Harry sneered. Draco seemed to be making hanging out in bathrooms into something of a habit. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, searching out his slippers. He was going to go and give the Slytherin bastard a piece of his mind.
* * * *
By the time Harry reached the bathroom that Draco seemed to be hiding out in, he had prepared a sizeable rant that he planned to inflict on the other boy. Narrowing his eyes, he burst into the room. His angry words melted away at the sight that met him. Draco was standing under one of the showers, eyes closed, one hand stroking his erect cock.
Harry was frozen to the spot with shock. Across from him, Draco's hand continued to move up and down in an ever-quickening rhythm. He moaned softly, and Harry jumped. Able to move again, he backed up quickly, and, it seemed, noisily, for Draco's hand stopped moving and his eyes fixed firmly on Harry's face.
"Hello, Potter. I was just thinking about you."
Harry gawped at him. Draco's hand began to move again, up and down, in languid strokes. "Come to finish me off, have you?" Draco's eyes gleamed as he waited for Harry to answer him. It was either this or break down into a pathetic, weeping idiot.
"I - eh..." Harry's eyes darted from place to place, looking everywhere and at everything but Draco.
"Don't be afraid, Potter," Draco said darkly. "Take a good, long look at your handiwork." Angry pink scars criss-crossed Draco's pale upper body, spreading from his chest to his face. The farther up they went, the fainter they seemed to become. Swallowing nervously, Harry looked at Draco's face. The scars there were much fainter, and already white.
"Madam Pomfrey paid my face more attention. There was only so much she could do, and so she concentrated her efforts there. Of course, they'll never fade completely."
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. He had done that. He had marked another person permanently. He had always hated Voldemort for giving him his scar, and now he had given Draco dozens.
"I - Malfoy - I - I mean - God - You were going to use and Unforgivable but - I - I didn't mean to - I - God. I'm sorry."
"Shut up, Potter." Harry's mouth snapped closed, but his face remained frozen in a look of horror. "Don't," continued Draco. "Don't you fucking dare feel sorry for me. This is all your fault. The sainted Boy-Who-Lived, crusading against darkness. Who cares what he destroys along the way."
"Wh - what?"
"Fuck you, Potter. You've ruined my life."
"Your life?" spluttered Harry. "Your precious bloody face, maybe, but hardly your life!"
"You tried to kill me."
"You were going to use an Unforgivable curse, Malfoy!"
"You deserved it. You've been stalking me all year. Leave me the fuck alone."
Harry's horror was quickly being replaced by his earlier anger. "Not until I find out what you're doing in the Room of Requirement!"
"Can't you see I'm busy?" drawled Draco, in his laziest tone. His eyes widened slightly as Harry's wand suddenly pressed into his throat.
"Or do you want to watch?" The wand dug deeper into Draco's skin as Harry's green eyes narrowed.
"What's the matter, Malfoy? Can't you find anyone to fuck? How sad that none of your groupies'll get you off."
Draco smiled slightly. "Don't pretend you're not hard, Potter. There's quite the tell-tale bulge in your pyjama bottoms. Like it rough, do you?" Before Harry could react, Draco lunged forward and grabbed Harry's pyjama top, pulling him into the shower. His lips connected with Harry's in a sudden and fierce movement. Roughly, he pushed his tongue into Harry's mouth.
When there was no reaction from Harry, Draco broke the kiss and slipped a hand under Harry's pyjama bottoms. As he had guessed, Harry was hard, his cock straining against the flimsy material. Draco grasped it firmly and ran his thumb over the tip causing Harry to gasp. With a smirk, Draco pulled his hand away.
"Take off your pyjamas."
"What?" demanded Harry, somewhat dazedly.
"I said, take off your pyjamas." When Harry failed to do so, Draco pushed the pyjama bottoms down. "If you leave them hanging around your feet like that, you'll trip, and I won't give a damn." Slowly, Harry kicked them away. Draco caught the other boy's mouth in a kiss again, pushing their bodies together. Harry moaned as their erections met, and squirmed, causing friction between them.
"If we're going to do this, let's just bloody well do it."
Without a word, Draco pushed Harry's shoulder, forcing him to turn around. Bending his neck slightly, he began to kiss and bite his way down Harry's neck. Harry tensed as the kisses became less frequent and the bites more aggressive. Then the mouth disappeared from his neck and Draco was against his back. His erection pushed between Harry's arsecheeks, and his arms encircled Harry, both hands grabbing hold of his cock.
"I'm going to fuck you, Potter. Right now," and he began to move. Realising that Draco meant exactly what he said, Harry managed to mutter the appropriate spell just in time. Draco pushed into Harry in one swift movement. He made no attempt at preparation and drove in as far as he could go. Harry's eyes widened as he felt Draco move inside of him, stretching him uncomfortably, despite the spell Harry had managed to perform. While he thrust hard and fast into Harry, his hands pumped Harry's erection. Moaning, Harry began to drive himself back on to Draco, causing unbelievable feelings to surge through him. They moved together, Draco fucking Harry and Harry fucking Draco, until Harry could take no more. He cried out as he came, spurting all over Draco's fingers, but Draco wasn't finished. Roughly, he pushed Harry against the wall, not breaking his rhythm. His cock was driving into Harry so hard that Harry thought he might split in two. Draco's movements became erratic and he dug his fingers into Harry's hips as he came.
Almost immediately he pulled away and stepped out of the shower. Pulling his robes around him, he glared at Harry. "Least you could fucking do for me." And with that he left the bathroom and Harry behind, smiling grimly. At least tonight he had been the one in control.