Harry opened his eyes slowly to find his head pounding so badly that he could hardly see. The room around his swam into focus very reluctantly and, as he blinked, the low murmur of conversation beside him stilled.
"Harry," Remus' gentle voice said and he tried to make his eyes focus on the blob that he was sure was the werewolf.
It was almost like needing glasses again, only then it hadn't hurt quite so much to make his eyes cooperate.
"How are you feeling?" his friend asked quietly.
"Like the Quidditch team if practising with bludgers in my skull," he replied blearily.
"If you can sit up, Mr Potter," Snape's cool tones cut into his head like knives, "I believe I have something which may help."
Harry was not happy about the moving idea, since the moment he tried the pounding increased, but with Remus' help he managed to make it into a sitting position. At this point, a small flask was pushed into his hand and he upended it into his mouth without waiting to be told. It burned all the way down, but, as with most of Snape's concoctions, it was efficient and it began to work immediately.
"Although not the most effective pain killing potion available," the Potions master said evenly, "I can guarantee that Mr Potter will have no adverse reaction to this one."
"Thank you," Harry said, genuinely grateful as the pounding began to reduce to a manageable level.
Now that he was upright and could use his eyes without fear of reprisal from his brain, he recognised the inside of Arthur's office at the Ministry, and everyone who had been at the hearing with him seemed to be squashed into it. He had been lying on a couch and he suspected that someone had transfigured it.
"How long was I out?" he asked quietly.
"Only about ten minutes," Remus it appeared was spokesperson, "which considering what Fudge put you through is nothing."
The cold feeling came back as Harry remembered what had happened in the court room, but this time it was internal and the Dementor did not make an appearance. The dispassionate, logical part of his mind rationalised that it was probably too weak after returning its only food source. How he had managed that was beyond Harry, and he just couldn't fit his mind round the idea.
"I didn't know," he whispered to Remus, horrified by the whole thing, "I didn't know I'd done it."
"I know, Harry," Remus said soothingly, "and if Fudge hadn't had Peter whisked off you would undoubtedly have undone it far sooner than today. That man is an idiot."
"I had him inside the whole time," Harry continued to whisper in disgust, "and I didn't know. How could I not know?"
The ideas that reliving the memory caused in him brought most of his rational thought to a halt. The Dementor had been his greatest fear for so long and that he had been capable of doing that to someone else was abhorrent to him.
"Dementors cannot give back souls, Harry," Remus said as if reading his mind, "they consume them. You took Peter's soul in revenge, but you did not consume it. That you gave it back is nothing short of a miracle."
The werewolf's words made sense, but they could not reach the core of what Harry was feeling. The horror of having to relive his kidnapping and all subsequent events was too much for him with the whole Wormtail incident on top. The darkness in him was flooded out by simple human distress.
"Please, can we go home?" he asked a little desperately and then he burst into tears.
Remus pulled him close and he sobbed into his friend's shoulder as the stress of the day poured out of him.
"Yes, Harry," Remus said gently, but firmly, "we'll take you home now."
Right then Harry didn't care how they made it back to Hogwarts; all he wanted was the safety and security of his room at the only place that was really his home. At that moment he was not some complicated Dark Creature he was just a boy on the edge of being a man who wanted to return to where he belonged.
Harry was a wreck, this much he was sure of and he barely made it back to Hogwarts. Apparating was not recommended for anyone not of completely sound mind so they had flooed. Having staggered out of the fireplace in Dumbledore's office he had managed to say goodbye to everyone except Remus, without whom he tended to sway worryingly, and the headmaster, who helped return him to the corridor containing the Room of Requirement without the rest of the school seeing him. It was interesting to find out how Dumbledore managed to move around the school so efficiently; the castle made passages for him if he requested it and the route to the upper corridor was by ways Harry had never seen before.
What he said to Dumbledore he had no idea, and he barely managed to tell Jeremy to let them into the room. Only as Remus half walked, half carried him into his living quarters did some of Harry senses switch back on and he looked up to see a very worried-looking Draco come to a halt in the middle of the room with a paper forgotten in his hand. His lover was staring at Remus warily, and it then occurred to Harry that having not been able to stay at Hogwarts over the last week, Remus was unaware of what had been going on with Draco. As far as Remus knew, Draco was a vaguely hostile victim of Voldemort who for his own reasons had chosen to call in Dumbledore, not a friend and definitely not Harry's chosen lover.
"What in Merlin's name happened to him?" Draco demanded rather shortly, and continued his progress to Harry, which pleased different parts of him for very different reasons.
The moment his lover was in reach, Harry's arm snaked out to pull him closer and, with Remus on one side and Draco on the other, he let his head fall onto his lover's shoulder. Just the smell of Draco and the feel of him so close helped calm his raging thoughts.
"He gave back a soul," Remus said eventually and Harry knew his friend sounded confused and reluctant.
"Stupid Gryffindor," Draco said pointedly, "what did you go and do that for; they could never have proved it was you?"
That made Harry's head come up again as he looked his lover straight in the face. Something about Draco's tone caught his attention.
"You knew," he said plainly, totally at a loss to explain it any other way, "how?"
"I saw you, on the way out with Mother," the Slytherin said as he looked Harry over rather worriedly.
Harry couldn't quite comprehend that.
"But you came back," he said incredulously; Draco had seen him eat Wormtail's soul and yet he'd still come back.
"I told you I couldn't explain why I came back," his lover said pointedly, "so don't ask me. Why did you give the slimy bastard his soul back?"
"Fudge dragged him into the hearing," Harry said angrily, the heat in his belly giving him some of the strength he seemed to have lost, "I looked him in the eye. What was I supposed to do?"
"Let him rot," Draco replied resolutely, "he's a coward and a liar. Voldemort brought Dementors to the Manor at times, there would have been traces; Fudge could never have proved it was you."
Something was off here, his lover's argument sounded almost personal.
"What did he do to you?" he asked a little more gently, still annoyed, but curbing his reaction with concern.
Draco pulled away, anger on his face, but Harry knew it was not at him.
"He was Voldemort's messenger," the Slytherin said shortly, obviously uncomfortable with talking about the situation with Remus present, "he would come to my room every night with Voldemort's latest offer. He was a lackey of the worst order."
The last few words were spoken with a finality that Harry recognised and he knew he would not extract any more information out of Draco, at least not with Remus there. Gathering his strength he pulled himself away from the werewolf and turned to look at his friend.
"Thank you," he said sincerely, "I wouldn't have made it without you."
"You're welcome, Harry," Remus replied, his eyes flicking to Draco, "alright if I come and see you later?"
"That would be great," he said honestly, "I'll send Dobby when I'm free if that's okay."
Remus smiled at that.
"Dumbledore has given me a room for the night," the werewolf replied, "so I'll be here all afternoon and this evening, until tomorrow lunchtime in fact. Just let me know when to visit."
Harry squeezed Remus' hand and then his friend headed for the door at which point he turned his attention back to Draco. The Slytherin's back was taught and he resonated tension; Draco's dislike of Wormtail seemed to run almost as deep as Harry's. Taking a step towards his lover, he reached out and then discovered that walking and standing up were two different things and although he had strength for the latter, he did not have for the former.
"Oh bugger," he said pointedly as his knees began to cave.
Draco turned instantly, but even with Seeker reflexes he was just that bit too far away to be of assistance. Shifting his weight on the way down, Harry managed to land on his backside, but the bounce still hurt and he growled rather loudly at himself and the world in general.
"Temper, temper," was Draco's opinion on the matter, which earned the Slytherin another growl for his trouble.
"Are you bloody going to help me up or not?" Harry demanded waspishly.
"And there I was going to be nice to you and take your mind off your awful morning," Draco said as he bent down to help drag Harry up.
It then occurred to Harry that it wasn't even lunch time and his lover was not actually supposed to be there.
"Shouldn't you be in lessons?" he asked, trying to distract the distinctly surly part of his nature that was doing its best to surface.
"I couldn't concentrate," Draco said without the slightest sound of remorse, "so I came here to wait. So far no one has tried to pry me away."
Harry snorted his acknowledgement of that statement; there would have been little point, Draco was almost as stubborn as he was. With help Harry found that standing up was much easier and it didn't take too much to manoeuvre him to the bed. He ended up on his back, staring at the ceiling and looking up at Draco who was standing over him. Gazing into his lover's intense grey eyes, Harry felt the incubus in him stir, unfortunately the desire was there, but he had absolutely no energy to do anything about it. However, Draco must have seen the need in his face because he climbed on to the bed.
"You look like you could sleep for a week," his lover said, calmly throwing his leg over Harry and straddling him, "but I won't get further than a couple of feet will I?"
That was a very good assessment of the situation as far as Harry was concerned; he had no energy, but that didn't mean that if his darker side took over completely he wouldn't find some from somewhere.
"Stay put," Draco said firmly, "let me do the work. Where's you wand?"
Harry fished in his pocket and gave his lover his wand without a second thought. Only as Draco looked at him thoughtfully and waved the wand did he realise how strange that could have seemed, since he had just given an ex-Death Eater his only weapon. As Draco spoke two words that Harry did not catch he felt magic leap at him and suddenly he was completely naked.
"What did you do?" he asked, a little shocked by the sudden lack of clothes.
"A spell Father taught me when I hit sixteen," Draco said unrepentantly. "Just don't ask me what he intended me to use it for. Your clothes are over there."
His lover pointed vaguely to the left, but Harry did not bother to look, he was more interested in Draco.
"You still have yours on," he pointed out with the usual burr in his voice that came with the incubus' arousal.
Draco pointed the wand at himself and spoke the same two words; this time Harry committed them to memory, he could see this charm being useful in the future. Suddenly they were skin on skin and he felt his power jump in response as his body and magic reacted. Energy radiated between them wherever they touched and Harry felt the lethargy falling away.
"Try and keep it inside, Harry," Draco said breathily just as Harry felt his physical body start to change.
"I can't," he replied as, in response, he tried desperately to grapple with his reactions.
"I think you can," his lover said with a smouldering smile, "just for a minute, for me."
It was like trying to hold on to water, and Harry had no idea why Draco had asked this of him, but he did his best. With efficient, but careful movements Draco pointed the wand at himself again and rattled off three charms in quick succession. The feel of the magic was almost more that Harry could take and he clung on to his more human appearance by the skin of his teeth.
"What was that?" he asked in a desperate attempt to keep at least a portion of his mind distracted.
"Cleaning, relaxing and lubricating spells," Draco said, placing the wand on the bed; "not as much fun as manual methods, but useful at times like this."
Harry groaned at the mental image that gave him.
"Not long now," his lover said playfully, "it'll be worth it, I promise."
The incubus in him wanted control, and it wanted control immediately; Harry had never fought it before and it was almost worse than the vampire as it fed off his body's reactions. He was already hard; one sniff of Draco these days and his anatomy made itself known, and he needed to let the transition occur for his arousal to become complete.
When Draco lifted himself into a crouch and then took hold of Harry's cock in one hand he knew what was coming and he had to bite hard on his lip and dig his talon like nails into the palms of his hands to hang on to the incubus.
"Draco," he begged as thought tried to flee at the sensation of his lover slowly lowering himself on to him.
Watching Draco sink down onto his stiff erection was possibly the most erotic thing Harry had ever seen, especially as his lover made the most enticing noises, head back and eyes closed.
"I can't..." he tried to tell Draco that he was about to loose control when the Slytherin opened his eyes again and looked him straight in the eye with the most wanton expression of lust.
That was all the permission Harry needed and he let go instantly. Incubus power flowed into every cell and he felt even the smallest change as his body shifted. His torso tingled as the rows of blunt spines erupted from his skin and his senses came even further alive. It was then that he realised what Draco had been after as he felt his cock lengthen and swell; the groan and complete abandon on his lover's face as Harry changed, stretching Draco from the inside, was the answer to any questions he may have had. The Slytherin's reaction was so extreme that Harry had to reach up and steady his lover as Draco's legs threatened to give out.
The feeling of tight muscle completely surrounding him was enough to make Harry pant out his pleasure as well and neither of them moved for a long moment. Seated almost completely in Draco he felt connected as he never did at any other time and he longed for the feeling to go on forever. Dark magic moved under his skin, he could feel its currents as, woken from its sleep, it demanded to be fed. This angel crouched above him, surrounding him, was the nectar he required and he found himself growling low in his throat, almost purring. He knew how to elicit the responses he needed; the fulfilment in his lover which would shower them both in sexual energy, and he allowed the power inside him to trickle through the point where their bodies connected.
"Harry," Draco said breathlessly, whatever he was going to say being interrupted by the moan that fell from parted lips, "no more," another moan, "unless you want this over now."
He stopped the flow of power; now was too soon. The incubus wanted instant gratification and the energy Draco's release would provide, but his human side wanted this to last longer. Resisting the urge to flip them both and take over completely, Harry thrust up experimentally and the encouraging sound Draco made as his lover rode the movement persuaded him to do it again. With the dark creature in charge, strength was not a problem, and Draco's weight was irrelevant as Harry pushed himself upwards, holding his lover in place with his hands and forcing himself even deeper into Draco's body. When he found the sweet spot of his lover's prostate the explosive gasp of air that Draco expelled informed him of his success, and the trickle of energy he felt being returned was a good indication as well.
The more experienced he became with sex, the more he could feel coming back from his partner. The first time it had been all his need, his want, the second more of the same, but the last couple of times he had had enough control to appreciate the experience for its other merits as well. He was far more aware of Draco now; he had always known how to push the right buttons per say, however, he was coming to understand more of the subtleties. The eddies of energy from Draco spoke to his instincts, but he was also beginning to understand them at a conscious level.
Draco placed both of his palms on Harry's chest, urging him to a halt. The tightness of the muscles in his lover's legs and the straining stomach muscles holding Draco in place were all adding to the sensual images filling Harry's brain.
"Beautiful," he whispered, the burr of power even more pronounced now.
This human belonged to him; he had marked him; Draco had surrendered to him; and his lover willingly came to him time and again. Yet his prize was still fragile, still vulnerable and he knew he would do anything to protect what was his; Draco had become a part of him he would never willingly let go. Grey eyes watched him from beneath long lashes and it was almost as it Draco knew what he was thinking, as if his lover understood what it really meant to be here.
"I want to know who you are," Draco said in no more than a whisper, "show me."
Slowly Harry sat up, supporting his lover with very little effort and maintaining their connection. Instinctively Draco tensed as his centre of gravity was offset, and Harry could not suppress the groan that erupted from his chest as it wasn't just his lover's limbs that tightened.
"Relax," he said breathlessly, "I've got you."
"How strong are you?" Draco asked as he did as he was told.
"Don't know," Harry replied with a small smile, and he really didn't, he'd had no reason to test his limits.
"I'm trusting you not to drop me," his lover said slightly nervously.
"I'm not going to drop you," he replied, bracing his feet on the end of the bed.
Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Harry had other ideas and moving his pelvis he experimentally thrust forward and up; whatever his lover had been about to say dissolved into a very satisfied moan.
"Okay," Draco said, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders, "you drive."
That caused him to grin and he began to move in a rhythmic manner, and all responses from Draco; physical and magical indicated that he was hitting exactly the right spot. It was not easy, but it was fun and his earlier weakness was completely forgotten as he made love to the beautiful Slytherin in his arms. Magic and sex were a heady mixture between two normal wizards and between an incubus and a wizard it did not take long for the rest of the world to fade into insignificance.
Power and arousal built in equal measure and eventually Harry could not prevent himself allowing magic to flow into his lover as they came together time and time again. The grip on his shoulders became harder and harder and Draco's eyes closed in ecstasy as they moved in harmony. The rubbing of his lover's cock against his stomach was stimulating more than just the nerves where it touched and Harry knew that neither of them would last much longer. The energy they were generating actually began to pickle on his skin.
"What's that?" Draco voice was almost non-existent, but the Slytherin still managed to groan out his question.
It seemed to Harry that the universe was determined to surprise him at the most inopportune moments, but it made little difference as the power level shot up in response to Draco loosing all coherence. That was all that was needed to send both of them spiralling over the edge and Harry found himself clinging to Draco as their rode out their sexual high together. When they were together, Draco was never a quiet lover and the loud, shuddering cries of completion that seemed to fall, unfettered from the Slytherin's mouth filled Harry with a deep seated joy he did not understand.
His lover was holding himself away from him at arms length, almost as if he could not bear any further skin on skin contact, and possibly Draco couldn't, since power flowed between them wherever they touched. Harry wanted to crush his lover to him and flood him completely, but he also did not want to hurt Draco in any shape or form, not now, so he clung on, allowing the Slytherin his space. However, the energy coursing through his body seemed to have other ideas and as the magic crackled between them, he saw a spark arc from Draco's chest to his and back again. Grey's eyes that had closed to ride out the waves of passion opened in shock and stared down as the little bolt of lightening continued to dance across their skin. Never before had the energy transfer been visible and Harry stared as much as Draco, but he was far too enrapt to do anything other than look until the strength in Draco's arms suddenly gave out and they were too close together to see anything.
When they finally started to come down he found that Draco was sitting in his lap, rather than crouching even partially and they had slipped apart. He was breathing hard and he was buzzing with the power they had generated, but the tiredness was beginning to touch at the edges of his consciousness again. It seemed that sex could invigorate him, but it could not completely remove the lethargy which his earlier activity had caused. Draco also appeared somewhere between dazed and ready to go all over again, making Harry grin rather like a loon.
"Are you going to explain the little lights?" his lover asked eventually, his head still resting on Harry shoulder.
"Can't," Harry replied honestly, since he had no idea why or what this new turn of events meant. "You going to tell me why you seem to hate Wormtail as much as I do?"
"Oh, of course," Draco replied with a laugh, "about the same time you let me top."
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