Eyes of Phthalo Green - DRARRY

Chapter 10 - The Kiss of Death

It was the amalgamation of fire and ice, sun and moon. Their lips met and the world was eclipsed, in a dangerous promise forged between worlds. Breath mingled and armies moved and surged behind their backs. There was no hesitation, much to Draco's surprise. Harry's lips were soft and inviting, if still moist from tears. As soon as they kissed it felt right in its wrongness; the union of yin and yang, most opposite of pairs. It was slow, sweet, as was proper for a first kiss, as though it tried to compensate its crime through a glaze of polite affection. Draco had broken every rule, betrayed every expectation, but for these fleeting seconds of bliss, all was forgiven. 

Reality returned in a rush, as though the floor of his closet had given way and he was falling through the icy waters of the lake. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-," Draco's words echoed Harry's tearful speech from before, but he didn't get nearly as far. The Gryffindor's lips latched onto his with a passion, more forceful than before. For the second time that day, Draco's air supply was sabotaged, and again, he didn't mind. They broke apart to catch their breath, the boys still learning the ropes of this new pleasure. "You," Harry whispered, "are the most oblivious person I have ever met. Do you know how many hints I'd tried to drop? How many times I'd tried to flirt with you with zero reaction? Only to find out you fancied me like this? I might sound like Ron but really, bloody hell!" Draco smirked a little, rolling his eyes. "Happy Christmas to you too, Scarface." Harry pulled his signature lopsided grin, "Shut up and let me kiss you, Ferret."  

The boys fell asleep together that night, fingers just barely clasped in a bridge between their unconscious forms. Draco couldn't think of a better bliss than to be safe in the arms of winter as snow pelted the lake's impassive surface. The gentle warmth of Harry's breath that seeped under the icy pallor of his skin made him blush; silent but alive.

----

It was the scream that woke Draco. It was not human, not animal, undefinable in intent or emotion. It was a rasping, hissing, guttural howl that seemed to echo as though from far away, like words devoured by the darkness of a catacomb only to be thrown back at the speaker in the voices of ghosts and skeletons. It took him a moment to locate the scream's origin, but a furtive glance to his left confirmed Draco's fears.

Harry's face was like a block of ice melting from the inside. A cold sweat covered his skin, and only the faintest trace of breath escaped his half-opened lips. Most horrifying yet, however, was his expression. To the left, his brow was furrowed, eye screwed shut and mouth ajar in ill-disguised terror. But past the median of his face, Harry was transformed. His eye was opened, narrowed to better track his prey. Gone were the beautiful green eye that Draco had so lovingly sketched. Now it glowed an angry red, pupil slitted like a cat's. Gone was the laughing glint behind the irises. Instead, they reflected only gory crimson. Gone was the boy he'd kissed only hours ago. This was no longer Harry.

There was another strange howl and a flash of white upon red. The Gryffindor had bitten down on his imagined victim with such ferocity that his right canine had cut a gash in his lip, letting the blood travel across his skin. Draco's mouth was open in a silent scream, eyes misted in fear as his body fought over whether to rush over and help or run far, far away. Cautiously, he raised a hand to Harry's shoulder, shaking him gently. The boy only hissed at him like one possessed, muscles contorting in turmoil. The Slytherin throttled him again, willing him awake. "Harry! Harry, please. It's just a dream, it's not real! I'm trying to help you...please, wake up!" The tears that had threatened to spill before now streamed down Draco's face. He had never been more scared.

Slowly Harry's eyes closed, and when they reopened, their familiar green had returned. His expression was haggard and sweat still beaded on his furrowed brow. His words were halting as he spoke, edged in horror and disbelief. "I think I killed someone."

----

Draco stood in the doorway to his room, glazed eyes staring blankly at the dark wood in front of him. Moments ago he had handed Harry his invisibility cloak, searching the other boy's eyes for an emotion, whatever it may be. The Gryffindor had merely stared back in complete defiance, only the faintest trace of grief flickering behind his irises. Harry hadn't said much about the nightmare, only that he had to go, immediately. He'd requested his cloak and shut the door without a backwards glance, leaving Draco in the dark to regain his faculties after what he had witnessed. He'd never seen Harry's nightmares first-hand, and in hindsight "nightmare" was far too commonplace a word to describe the reality. It was better suited to a child who wakes in the night, crying for its mum to coo away the scary thoughts. "Nightmare" reeked of grown men who started awake, the voice of a balding accountant rattling off their debts still ringing in their ears. It did not even approach the metamorphosis of a cherubic 15-year-old boy into a fiend of hell who awoke convinced he was a murderer. Something was not right. And Draco suspected the cause.

Why had he been so blind? So naïve as to think that he deserved happiness? How could he have overlooked that he was a Malfoy, no matter what he told himself, and even so a sorry excuse for one. The universe had taunted with him, had let him close to Harry's freedom. It had allowed him to feel, to care, before it reminded him of his place. His place as the son of a Death Eater. Draco had forgotten himself, his duties as a son and hier, and unless he wanted to see Harry get even more hurt he would have to return to the fold. 

This was not the childish denial that had prompted the Dreamless Sleep and sedatives, this was reconcile to the truth. He was not Draco, not anymore than he was Draco Lucius Malfoy. To think there had ever been a difference was pointless. He had had his dalliance with joy, now he must end it. He was darkness, always had been, and it was not his place to mingle with the light. Even if that light had eyes like emeralds and hair like ebony. Even if shadow and shine had shared a kiss, it was to be the kiss of death and would only kill them both. 

"Stone does not feel. Be impassive as ice. Sanctimonia vincet semper...si pudicitia tenebris" Draco whispered to the door, remembering his family's unspoken motto. "Purity will always conquer... if that purity dares to be dark." 

An: I know this is a really short chapter but it felt natural to end it here. Quite the emotional rollercoaster there! Please don't hate me too much, dear readers, if there's one thing I know about Wattpad it's that you all seem to live off drama and emoji sequences. This is my first note in a while, so I thought I'd check in to hear any and all comments/critiques/ideas for future chapters. And please let me know if you want a different POV from a character (I'm itching to write one but won't if you don't want me to). Well, that concludes my author's interlude :) Love you all!

- Ophelia

P.S. Credit to Alek.dar for the beautiful header art! Check out their tumblr! (It's positively stunning)