The Scent Of Malice | drarry

twenty two | the artist and his muse

[tw: drug reference in this chapter]

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Harry had been expecting the "something" Draco wanted to show him to be Draco's dick (it would have been a rather on-brand joke for the Slytherin) but instead when they got down to Draco's part of the boys' dorms, the blonde knelt down and pulled a large leatherbound book from under his bed.

Wordlessly, he laid it out on the sheets and Harry joined him in a kneeling position on the floorboards to have a better look.

Nothing could have prepared him for the contents.

Hours and hours of the most delicate artwork Harry'd ever seen covered every beautiful page; pictures of the castle shrouded in clouds, of the view of the lake from his window, and dark, twisted self-portraits, where Draco had drawn himself in charcoal with his eyes scored out and the Dark Mark emblazoned over his forehead and chest as well as both his arms. That particular series had small wet splatters all over it, which had been smudged out with chalky fingers.

And then, towards the back, was Harry.

The sketches weren't at all explicit or vulgar, yet they still had an incredible intimacy about them which made them feel as though they shouldn't be viewed. It was Harry, in a way that only Draco had ever seen him. Harry, beautiful, but torn apart and angry and wrecked. Harry's soul on the page.

He'd left the colour out of the sketches but somehow Draco knew you could still feel it. Harry clearly could, because he went red the second he saw it.

He's drawn me in venom, Harry couldn't help thinking, drawn me dripping in it, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

"I didn't know you did this," he whispered, and Draco shrugged.

"I don't know why I do."

After a frozen moment of consideration, Draco arched his muse gently back over the pictures of himself, hovering above his face for a second to drink him in: and so the artist makes love to his art, he thought. What a dream.

Then he took a sip from his glass, set it aside, and opened his mouth to let a pretty stream of wine drip from his lips into Harry's willing open mouth, and that was enough of a wave to start the tsunami.

Harry's head was spinning hard before he even he kissed Draco back, and his skin tingled with an unfamiliar level of elation - part of it must be the alcohol, he assumed, but part had to be the intoxicating glory of Draco Malfoy and his mouth.

One thing was different, though, and that was the lack of resistance between their hips, which became increasingly concerning for Harry. Even when he'd really hated him, Malfoy had never struggled to get it up- was it something Harry had done?

Luckily, Draco knew exactly what was going on.

"I just need to get something," he said, and he straddled Harry to reach his drawers, putting more weight on him than he had before. He rummaged through his drawers and drew out a plastic sheet of blue tablets marked with a telltale 'V', the packet at least a quarter empty.

He popped one out and broke off half, which he necked with a drag of his wine. It looked like a little piece of blue chalk on his tongue. "Do you want the other half?" he asked. "I can tell the drink has affected you the same way."

"What is it?"

"Viagra."

Harry laughed incredulously. "You're seventeen, why do you have viagra?" he asked.

Draco looked at him as if he was stupid.
"Obviously because I fuck on molly?" he replied, gesturing to his drink.

Harry's eyes widened as the realisation sunk in. "Molly? Draco-"

"What?"

"There's ecstasy in this? I didn't know! I didn't even know you could drink ecstasy?!"

Draco looked at him with a slightly scornful frown. "Oh, yeah. And you can if it's powdered up. I'm sorry I assumed you'd know what 'fairy wine' was, Potter. It should be hitting by now."

"Why didn't you check with me?" Harry asked, but he was unable to feel particularly panicked or angry about it, as Draco was right and it was hitting.

"Because it's about to change your life," the blonde whispered, pushing the other half of the tablet into Harry's mouth with his tongue and spitting a little to help him get it down.

He left his tongue in there long after Harry had swallowed the tablet, swirling it gently around the inside of his mouth, and Harry reciprocated gladly. Every nerve was heightened by the chemicals in what they'd drunk, every cell in their bodies appeared to be animated and fizzing, and even just kissing was heavenly.

"I'm in love with you," Harry whispered suddenly, shock and devotion and shame bleeding into his words. "I'm in love with you, and I hope you know."

He wasn't sure quite why he said it other than that he was beautifully high and it felt like the right thing to do, but Draco didn't stop him so Harry carried on.

"I love you, Draco," he moaned against Draco's mouth, and though the other boy never returned the sentiment, he found he couldn't stop saying it. It was the most intense and dangerous feeling in the world.

When they were ready to take it further, Draco stayed chest-to-chest with Harry the whole time instead of just forcing the boy's head down or his hips up like normal, and for this Harry was grateful.

Their bodies moved much in the way that a wave does, in cascades of pleasure and elation, and for a time all the love on the planet existed between the two souls on Draco Malfoy's bedsheets.

"Have you ever loved someone as much as I love you?" Harry panted as he got close, screwing up his eyes as though it hurt him to think about it.

"More," Draco shook his head, and then he kissed him with such love it was almost a tragedy, and the front of Harry's head exploded with white heat - this is euphoria, he said - Draco's skin glimmered under his touch.

His heart seems to speak the same language mine does, Harry recognised at once. It was some kind of beautiful tiny heaven contained in a boy.

And it was over, and a million tiny fragments of infinity scattered over their bodies as the boys threw themselves back on the sheets, illuminating their skin in colours that didn't have names, and sewing together the gaping wounds they'd made in each other's souls for the past few years.

"Can you see that?" Harry asked, breathless with wonder and the weight of his joy, and Draco nodded.

"You could live in colour like this forever, you know," he said quietly, and he slid the pages out from behind Harry's head, so that colourless drawing-Harry and real-Harry stared up at him as one.

"I could make your life look like this without ecstasy. If you wanted."

"You know I want that," Harry smiled softly. "But this is you and me we're talking about. I don't think we even know what that kind of stability is."

His jaw had begun to tense and grind by now, and upon seeing this Draco swiftly reached into the pocket of his discarded robes for another lollipop, his lips still lightly crimson from the first.

"That's what these are here for," he told Harry as he tore the wrapper off. "Ecstasy makes you grind your teeth and these are a good distraction. Open your mouth for me."

"Always," Harry said dreamily, only half-joking. He paused, soaking in the moment and enjoying the wash of sugar over his tongue. "Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I stay here tonight?"

Draco paused, torn between his high, his attraction, and his common sense. The latter lost. It didn't even put up a fight.

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said. "Stay with me."

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a/n: so draco didn't spike him! it's all good haha some of you were worried;)
hope you enjoyed this chapter though, i loved writing it 🤍🤍🤍

vote & comment if you did!

~ paradisedraco