CONQUERED - DRARRY

22

DRACOS POV
I followed Voldemort into the centre of the pitch, eyeing him warily. I walked between him and Harry, my wand held tight in my fist.

It was unnerving, Voldemort looking like Bonnie. She walked casually ahead, looking out at the crowd and smiling, with a quick wave every few seconds. If I didn't know any better I'd think it was really Bonnie. But now and again, he would look back, eyes glazing past me and his eyes falling on Harry. Harry, the kind boy he was, no doubt smiled at him, thinking it was Bonnie.

It wasn't Bonnie, I wanted to scream. I wanted to protect Harry, not kill him.

We'd reached the middle of the pitch, Voldemorts grin was nearly overwhelming. I wanted to stopper his grin and curse him with every curse I knew and stab him through his cold, uncaring heart.

But the task was about to start.

The ministry offical waved his hand, and the excited crowd fell silent, a hush falling over them.
"Welcome to the second task, witches and wizards!"
He smiled hugely, his canine teeth sharp and white. His face looked uncomfortably happy, like he was trying to fight back a scream. I lent forward, narrowing my eyes.
"The task has had some minor-" he coughed. "Changes, but the winner will be clear. Champions, ready yourselves!"

My mouth fell open. Is that really all the information he would give us about this task? How would we know what to do? I glanced at Harry, and the look on his face told me he was thinking the exact thing. He looked back at me, and his expression changed. He bit his lip, a hint of excitement yet hesitance in his eyes. I felt a pulling sensation, desperate to embrace him and protect him against the evil that was about to befall him.

My heart wrenched. Maybe nothing in my life was clear. Maybe I'd spend the rest of it dying slowly of self loathing. But fuck, I couldn't deny it anymore. His smooth olive face, his slightly crooked nose, his emerald green eyes and silver glasses slightly askew. His lenses were just catching the sunlight, and I knew I loved him.

But what did it matter?

Our stories were written before we were born. It didn't matter I was in love with him. It didn't matter that we met. I was dark, and he was light.

I tore my eyes away from his, blinking back sudden miserable tears. I didn't care about this task. I didn't care that the most powerful dark wizard was standing next to me. I didn't care about magic, about Durmstrang or Hogwarts, about the goddamn sun rising in the morning.
I just cared about him.
But I didn't deserve him.

The ministry official, his face looking stuck in a smile, drew his wand. He swirled it through the air delicately, and in a flash of red light, a book appeared. Rulebook, it was titled.

It drifted toward us slowly, as the crowds volume began to rise again. Cheers and shrieks of eagerness started making my ears ring.

"Place your hands on it at the same time, champions!" The ministry wizards smile, for a split second, faltered, and his eyes looked terrified. But the next second, it was gone. I raised my hand. Harry did too, then Voldemorts hand followed with a smile, and together we clasped the book.

Instantly, there was a pull in my stomach. I looked around wildly, but everything was a blur, apart from Harry and Bonnie's faces. The quidditch pitch was gone, and the sky grey and swirling.

A portkey.

The next second, my back slammed on the ground. I blinked, and instantly jumped to my feet. Where was Harry?
A groan made me spin around quickly, my eyes landing on Harry, who'd evidently landed on his hand. It was bent, and looked all wrong, already purpling. Harry looked at it, forehead beading with sweat and pain.
"Harry," I whispered, falling to my knees next to him. Tears welled in my eyes, as I glanced up into his, which looked strained. Unable to help myself, my hand went to his cheek. His face was warm, my palms no doubt cold, but he didn't throw me off. He blinked.
"Draco," he said softly.