An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Forgive Those Who Trespass
Lomonaaeren
Chapters: 34/34 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger Additional Tags: Denial, Mutilation, Horror, Body Horror, Psychological Horror, Torture, Muteness
Summary:
Harry Potter was convinced he had an ordinary, if inconvenient, life. Then Ron and Hermione vanished in the Department of Mysteries. And the only person who may know where they are is a mute Draco Malfoy.
Excerpt
Draco, though, halted his swaying and held himself upright, and his eyes opened fully again, a steady gaze that knew what it wanted and what it demanded.
Harry licked his lips. Draco looked at the path of his tongue. Harry thought he should dislike that. Ginny’s reaction had been to blush and lower her eyes, and Harry had been convinced that was the height of erotic demonstrations.
But this—but damn—but he had to think about his plan to free Draco of the maze, which would only hurt him if Harry allowed this to go forward—
But Draco wanted this so badly. Needed it, probably. And Harry’s body was clamoring with curiosity and the stupid attraction it had first manifested to men months ago. So stupid. Why should he care what another man’s mouth tasted like?
He could smell Draco’s breath. It wasn’t awful. It seemed sweetly-scented, even though he’d eaten that orange hours ago. Harry’s face felt so sensitive he was sure he would squirm if Draco moved the hand cupping his cheek.
It wasn’t will that made his head move forwards and his lips touch Draco’s, he told himself. It was gravity, the weight of the situation. It was inevitability.
Draco opened his mouth at once, and if he was surprised or simply delighted, Harry had no idea, because no sounds of any kinds were coming out of him. He did know that Draco’s tongue and mouth tasted different from Ginny’s. What they tasted like, he had no idea, because he wasn’t good with poetic metaphors. But maybe it was orange, and maybe it was desperation, and maybe it was male.
Harry’s heart wanted to pound its way out of his chest. It was the level of excitement that he usually experienced when he was about to actually fuck Ginny, not when he was only kissing her, and he whined helplessly. It wasn’t fair that being gay felt so good. That was a trick, he thought, something to lure him in. His body would make this fixation tempting and good so he couldn’t resist, and then he would find himself in the trap too late to climb out.
His hand tugged on Draco’s hair. Draco angled his head to the side, taking control of the kiss, and then he moved his hand up Harry’s jaw to his ear. Harry jerked and whined again, feeling as if he’d fall over from that simple touch.
Draco closed his eyes and leaned in, his fingers tracing the edge of Harry’s ear this time. Harry shivered so hard that he nearly dislodged Draco’s touch. He could hurt the other man. If he was more afraid than desiring, it was almost inevitable. And Draco had to know that, and yet he didn’t care. He was making himself vulnerable.
And Harry could not reject that gift.
But neither could he allow this to go on. In another moment, he would be lost; he wasn’t sure why he had regained his mental clarity, except that he had looked at Draco’s face. It would be too late to say stop, and—
And they needed to stop.
He pulled his face away when Draco would have cupped the back of his neck, but gently, slowly, so Draco couldn’t have any ridiculous ideas about Harry rejecting him now. When Draco’s eyes flickered open and he tossed an inquiring glance in Harry’s direction, Harry smiled and allowed honest words to emerge from his mouth. “I never thought being gay was like that. Thank you.”
Draco’s face flushed with pink warmth, but he held Harry’s eyes and waited for an answer to his unspoken question all the same.
“We can’t do this here,” Harry whispered. “You’re still hurt, and an enemy may come by at any moment. There are other ways that lead partway through the maze. And do you remember the Unspeakables that came up behind us last time we paused to rest? I do.” Draco’s face was clouding, but his jaw was setting, too, which was probably a sign that he was about to be stubborn. Harry put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “We’re just not safe right now, no matter what we do. Please, let’s wait for more than just kissing until we reach a place we can actually defend.”
Draco raised his eyebrows and stared steadily at Harry. Harry stared back, and hoped Draco wouldn’t realize how terrified he was under his façade of bravado; his heart leaped and thumped dangerously. He hadn’t known—
He really would succumb to these new sensations of pleasure and allow himself to give up all thought of a normal life if this went on.
He had to soothe Draco, show that he accepted him, and at the same time preserve his own life separate from that. He wanted Draco’s friendship; he wanted to save him and keep him comfortable and happy. And he still wanted children, and a partner who, if she wasn’t Ginny, was like the wife he had sometimes dreamed of having whilst he was fighting Voldemort. The only way Harry could think of to have them both was to allow Draco a few liberties right now, and say nothing about his future plans.
And besides, if there’s no way but the one I dreamed up to free him from the maze, then I won’t be part of his life after we leave the maze anyway.
Draco reached for the communication sphere. Harry averted his gaze for just a moment, until he could hear the sound of Draco tapping on the glass. If he kept staring at Draco’s glistening, wet lips, he would kiss him again.
You like that, Draco said.
“Yes, I do,” Harry said, and his voice was hoarse with too much honesty. He winced. Shut up, shut up, he told himself, and especially the part of his brain that had begun to wonder if his fantasies of his future—a family and children—weren’t too limited after all, and whether he wouldn’t rather have something like this.
You think I’m—And Draco glanced up from the sphere with a swift shake of his head. They had no word for “normal,” but the curl of his lip gave Harry no doubts over what was being referred to.
“Yes, I do.” Harry found it in him to smile. “Much more normal than I would have supposed, before I tried it.”
Sheer delight consumed Draco’s expression, but Harry had no idea why until he chose, You have never—from the sphere.
Harry cleared his throat. “I’ve kissed plenty of women,” he said hotly. All right, two, but what difference does number of partners make? The number of kisses is what ought to count. “But you’re the first man I’ve kissed.”
Why?
Harry was starting to resent the fact that each facet of the globe had to carry so much information. Otherwise, he could have ripped out that little piece of glass and flung it away. “Because I didn’t want it to be real. I hoped it would go away if I waited.” He paused. “And I think I told you this already.”
And now?
“Maybe it won’t go away.”
Noble-minded coward, Draco said, but the expression on his face was amiable. He no longer seemed to be drowning in the horror and regret that had consumed him when they came out of the Pensieve. Harry was relieved. This was what he wanted to see, that Draco had strength for the journey ahead.
And if Harry had to kiss him a few more times, touch his face and let Draco touch him, in order to preserve that strength, it was not such a grand sacrifice. Hell, he enjoyed it too.
But he couldn’t let himself enjoy it so much that he lost sight of his goal. Either he might have to give up his life to get Draco out of the maze, or he and Draco would lead separate lives once they were free. Harry couldn’t imagine the bond between them enduring once they had a choice about who to associate with. Oh, everyone heard about whirlwind romances and deep friendships created from experiencing a harrowing situation together; what you didn’t hear about was their lasting.
No. He had to also concentrate on convincing Draco that he was a good person and teaching him how to stand on his own.
It was a tall order, but, for once, Harry was not convinced that Ron or Hermione could do it better. They had no experience in it, either, so far as he knew.
Gazing at Draco’s happy face, he mused, I’ll just have to do the best I can.
꒰♡ˊ͈ ु꒳ ूˋ͈꒱.⑅*♡
