the words of my wrist (the devil in silk and yet I yearn)

chapter 2

gently, desperately (my heart is yours)

Harry did not want to go back to Hogwarts.

it was a strange thought. He'd always want to go back to Hogwarts, because it was his very first home. The warm cloak of magic that comforted him no matter what happened; where the magic shifted over his skin and Harry could almost taste the ancient, sentient magic that made it his job to comfort him; he could almost hear Hogwart's speaking to him, whispering reassurances like a mother's warm words.

And yet, with Rabastan holding him in a dark alley in Hogsmeade, he didn't want to go.

He didn't want to leave the warm, strong, arms and the dark blue eyes that stared at him like he was a celestial being. Fingers stroked his soul-mark, sending his magic into a tizzy, and making Harry light-headed. Emotions that weren't his pulsed in the back of his mind, almost like lapping waves of an ocean, and they sang with love-adoration-joy-wonderment.

"Take the prophecy to the Dark Lord," Harry murmurs softly, leaning his head on Rabastan's chest. "Tell him as a sign of good faith that I will not fight against him."

His heart twists at the thought of Hermione and Ron leaving his side, but he truly doesn't expect them to stay with him. Hermione has no reason to side with the people who called for the death of those like her, and Ron had no reason to stay with the side that continued to spit on him; Neville surely wouldn't, because why would he be friends with the soulmate of one of his parent's torturers?

"Just- Just don't target my godfathers, please," is his only request. Harry peels his eyes open and looks up at Rabastan. "That's all I ask. Don't hurt Remus or Sirius, please."

Rabastan nods and bends down. Lips press gently against his forehead and the hand on his waist dips down to wrap around his hips. "I will pass the message along," he says. "I will prepare a place for you to stay this summer; unless- unless you wish to stay with your relatives?" Rabastan frowns just a little bit, looking unsure all of a sudden, and a bit confused. As if he couldn't really imagine anybody refusing, but still trying to keep in mind that Harry might have wanted to stay with his relatives.

Harry smiles brightly, despite the shock that reverberated through him.

He cared that much?

Not many had ever been that considerate of Harry's feelings.

Actually it was nobody because everybody thought that they knew better than him.

"That would be lovely," he assures his soulmate, running his hands over the front of Rabastan's robes in a self-soothing motion. "Anywhere is better than with them. And I'll get to see you all the time—I want to get to know my soulmate after all."

That makes Rabastan puff up, a pleased smile spreading across his face, and he nods firmly. "It will be with a Slytherin, but you can trust them; I promise you will be safe with them. They'll approach you in private, most likely, but if they approach you in public, it will all be a guise, especially if they say anything that might offend you."

Harry nods and fiddles with a button on Rabastan's robes. He twisted his lips as he realized that he would have to go, wrinkling his nose in silent protest. "I will see you soon?" he asks, his voice dipping into a high desperation and he winced.

Rabastan only cupped his face and smiled at him. The moonlight glimmered off his dark hair, pale skin, and his eyes looked even deeper than before. Almost like the deepest parts of the ocean: dark and devouring and crushing. "I will not waste a single moment to reach you the moment it is possible. If anybody attempts to stop me, I will just have to greet you coated in their blood."