The Scent Of Malice | drarry

twenty five | lakes like lovers

Harry's lips hurt more after that kiss in the rain than they had after any of the others before. It felt like Draco had really taken something from him this time, something internal.

It was a Dementor's kiss, that's what it was like.

Like every time Draco's lips touched Harry's he sucked away a little more life, a little more spirit and resolve, and in its place was coldness and heartache and spite.

Despite this, Harry had been hoping to catch the other boy that morning to give him the gift he'd found in Hogsmeade the day before, but he was nowhere to be found.

Harry wasn't sure Malfoy deserved a gift, if truth be told, but he hadn't known what else to do. He wasn't sure Malfoy deserved love either, but he still gave him that.

But the Slytherin was up with the sun as ever, desperate to avoid Harry, and so his Christmas present went unopened.

Why would you expect him to act like a normal person? Harry berated himself afterwards. Why would he bother to say goodbye to you? He doesn't owe you that.

But he was still distraught.

So distraught, in fact, that he decided not to even get on the Express; he didn't want to ruin the Weasleys' Christmas with his own colossal feelings. Better to attempt to deal with the thoughts on his own over the holidays.

Ron and Hermione would be upset and confused when they realised he wasn't on the train, of course, but he knew they'd get over it. Anything would be better than burdening them the way he'd been trying not to for months now.

"God, Potter," he whispered in an uncannily Malfoy-esque tone as he watched the train pull away from the station. "What's become of you?"

He only managed one glimpse of the blonde head he craved so badly before it was out of sight entirely.

***

The next few days were a blur. No other Gryffindors Harry knew had chosen to stay over the holidays, and the other House tables were relatively empty too. He avoided the Hall at mealtimes for this reason, or if his hunger was unignorable then he'd just slip in, grab just enough to keep him going, and slip back out again.

He took his broom up a lot more than usual these days in an attempt to outrun his thoughts and get rid of the flashes of Malfoy that ruled both his waking and his dreaming consciousness. He'd fly as fast as he dared and often faster to feel invincible, but sometimes when he caught sight of his silhouette in the Black Lake he was struck by how small and lonely he looked. Like a little boy playing pretend with a broom.

When he wasn't in the air, Harry had taken to going down to the banks of the lake at erratic times, and forcing himself in though the ice sometimes had to be cracked around the edges - December that year was particularly unforgiving in a number of ways.

And his mind - his mind was manic, constantly hungering after the next hit, the next thrill. With Malfoy gone there was nothing so cleansing as the cruel coldness of the Lake to Harry's bones. It was a familiar coldness that satiated his constant need for sensation, for a reminder that his heart was beating.

The Lake treats me like Malfoy does, Harry realised, basking in the vice-like grip of the water as though it were a soft cradle. It felt as though the water was lulling him into a gentle death. He holds me like this, takes all my air like this.

He let it hold him just to the point of danger, then forced himself out before his muscles seized and dragged him under. Another grim similarity, he thought.

Later, he dressed in front of the mirror, hardly breaking eye contact with the eyes that stared impassively back at him. Lily's eyes, Lupin said, Sirius said. Had they ever looked this empty? Greenless, ringed with ghostly shadows. Like one of Draco's drawings.

A week without him. Only a week more. Why was it killing him so much to be alone?

He'd stopped hoping Malfoy would write days ago, but sometimes Harry replied to Ron and Hermione's letters to pass the time. Sometimes he didn't.

There was one from Ginny a couple of days after Christmas, a long apology that he half read before tossing it on the fire, though it hurt him not to read the words that she wrote. God knew he'd done vile things for love too.

Good that you apologised, Gin, he'd written back, trying not to sound too curt. I feel you owe more than just me an apology though. I know he's inevitably to blame too, he often is, but think about it.

She probably wouldn't think about it, though, and Malfoy probably didn't deserve an apology, but Harry felt powerless if he didn't at least ask. Despite it all, he found he still wanted to win favour with the other boy, in the hopes that he'd - what? Fuck him again? Love him? Maybe not laugh about his dead parents again? He didn't know.

One night, after a swim so late that the Lake was indistinguishable from the sky, Harry paused on the staircase up to the Gryffindor dormitories. Pictured Malfoy's bed lying empty in the Slytherin dorms, pictured his own white costume robes on the bedpost from after the infamous Slytherin party.

"I'll just get my robes then come up to my own bed," he told himself, making the turn down the stairs before they swung out behind him, though he knew he had no interest in the robes above a slight sentimental value.

His pace quickened as he neared the basement, and he hoped that he'd been right, and none of Draco's dorm-mates would have stayed over the vac. Slytherins didn't usually tend to; they often had lavish Pureblood stately homes to return to, and servants awaiting their every breath - but you could of course never be certain of privacy in a communal space.

The snake at the portrait let him in as before, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung open and revealed an empty dorm. Dark as ever, walled in by the Lake that Harry had just left, it was a calming and oddly familiar atmosphere bearing in mind this was only his third ever visit.

Draco's bed on the far side was immaculately made as ever, but Harry was surprised to find that his own robes weren't where he'd left them after all. This must mean Draco's touched them to put them away, he realised with an odd hot rush, and then rolled his eyes at himself. Is that really all it takes for you now???

But he didn't even look for the robes.

Instead, he stripped and slid under Draco's sheets, only shivering slightly as the familiar scent washed over him. It wasn't as strong as it had been last time he was there - but last time he'd been there he had been in Draco's arms, the other boy's flat stomach pushed up burningly against Harry's back, so it was no wonder really that the scent had been stronger.

In a series of beautiful snapshots, Harry pictured that night.

Draco's face above Harry's in the half-light, the opaline glow that reflected off their skin, those celestial grey eyes dancing with anticipation... it was haunting. His mouth had pushed so softly down on Harry's, spilling tenderness and sweet wine off his tongue like honey and rosehip, and Harry had one hell of a sweet tooth for it.

He realised suddenly that that was the only time he'd been allowed to watch Draco while they fucked, really watch him.

To watch the way his face contorted and let out those little electric hisses and moans, the way his eyes fluttered shut at some points, rolled back when it got to the end.

The way his tongue licked out over his lips before he could stop it, the way he bit down on it in raptures, the way his body rocked and trembled and surged, all of it was nothing short of magnetism. And Harry's heart broke that he might never have that connection again.

Draco was wonderful on ecstasy, Harry decided. He wondered what it would be like to have that all the time, the way they'd discussed that night. Delirious, he presumed.

But as it was, he knew he had to go without. "I hurt you even when I'm not trying to," Malfoy had told him that last night by the lake. Harry wasn't sure how hard Malfoy ever tried not to hurt him, exactly, but it was nice to pretend he did nonetheless.

He slept better that night than he had in weeks.

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a/n: a slow update and a filler chapter i'm so sorry! please still vote if you enjoyed, idk why this one was hard to write but the next ones are more eventful so should flow better for me. hope you enjoyed anyway!!!

~ paradisedraco