Title: Curative Measures
Author:

shikishi
Rating: R. Warning: Both boys are suffering from the after effects of torture at the hands of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Not graphic, but is involved in the story.
Canon: pre-HBP.
Length: 2,200 words.
Scenario: I promise to look you in the eye the entire time.
Summary: Following their rescue, there are certain things that Draco simply can't escape.
Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of the HP universe. Please see user info for full disclaimer.
Notes: This piece should fall somewhere close to their rescue in

rurounihime's story, Once Spoken. Hopefully she doesn't mind! Thanks to

darkasphodel and

coffeejunkii for the beta and help, any mistakes are purely my own for not listening to her advice. This is the final, revised version.

Curative Measures

Draco doesn't really remember all that much about being rescued; everything sort of swirls and fades in his mind. All he can do is make mental grabs at fragments that slip away too easily. Sometimes what he ends up with is the feeling of spells bombarding the walls of his cell, the dull sound of a door collapsing, clips of conversation that never gel to a cohesive whole, being cradled in the arms of a giant. But always, always it ends with the sound of Harry screaming out his name.

~~~~~~

He awakes in a panic, chest pounding and breath coming in harsh uneven bursts as he struggles for air. Slowly the sound of cold laughter fades; the echoing of heavy soled boots on stone and the terrible noises that come from the darkened corner recede along with the smell of mould and rot. He feels the bed dip and hands tentatively touch his shoulders, unsure of the response they will receive, before they are grabbing him firmly, clutching Draco to a too-thin chest.

Draco closes his eyes tight and buries his face in Harry's neck, allowing the smell of sweat and cinnamon to envelop him. He can feel the skin grow damp around his chin from where he breathes in open-mouthed inhalations and he presses close, bending his nose deep into the hollow joint between neck and shoulder.

Harry's callous rough hands move in circular patterns over Draco's back, bumping over prominent vertebrae and tracing the line of thin shoulders. Slowly the touch becomes firmer, deeper, and Harry's fingers wander down over the V of pale flesh between Draco's hip and thigh, thumbs circling in meandering patterns over the skin of Draco's belly. Draco turns his head, mouth pressing wetly over Harry's jaw until Harry shifts, and stops the movement of Draco's lips with his own. Draco sighs and opens a little further, flickering his tongue slowly before letting it retreat, awaiting Harry's response.

It's as though he is drowning, melting into the heat of Harry's touch, and he falls slowly backwards; drawing Harry down with him. Harry runs his hands desperately over Draco's body, as though trying to memorize every line, every scar, every curve of muscle and projection of bone. Harry's mouth follows the same path as his hands, and Draco whimpers beneath the slide of tongue and fingers, eyes squeezed tightly closed and breathing laboured.

He feels Harry move, nestling in between his open thighs; feels Harry nudge against him bluntly, and his breath quickens. Harry stills, and in the momentary quiet Draco can barely make out his name; a question already asked a dozen times or more.

Draco shakes his head, keeping his eyes shut, and reaches blindly until his fingers wrap securely over the slicked base of Harry's cock and he presses down with a whispered, 'Please'.

He can hear the softly whispered curse above him in the darkness, feel the tension in the forearms under his hand; but Harry finally does, thrusting forward slowly until he is seated fully, buried deep within Draco's heat. Draco cries out as they begin to move.

Afterwards, they lie next to one another, heads barely touching on the shared pillow. Draco stares at the ceiling, tracing the pattern of a water-stain that spreads over the left-hand corner of the room. Harry sighs and places his hand on Draco's arm, leaving it there for long moments, waiting for Draco to reply. After awhile Draco turns and a sad smile flickers across his face. Harry kisses his forehead and returns to the recliner next to the single window where he spends his nights.

Harry never sleeps in the bed, not anymore.

~~~~~~

Draco showers quickly, averting his eyes to stare blankly at the tiled walls as he soaps and shampoos. He towels off and dresses in the bathroom, avoiding the muggle mirror. He does not need to look; he knows what image awaits him there. The mirror shows him a creature, twisted and horrible and ugly: a monstrosity with his eyes.

Pulling on his trousers and heading into the room, he nods at Harry. "I saved you some hot water."

Harry rises from his chair, grabbing a pair of faded jeans out of the wardrobe as he passes it. He stops in front of Draco, green eyes glassy and red-rimmed; he lightly runs his fingers over the trickle of moisture that is gathered in the hollow of Draco's collarbone, exposed by the too-loose neck of his tee-shirt.

Draco closes his eyes and trembles. He waits until he hears the bathroom door shut firmly behind him before he opens them again.

Twenty minutes later Harry steps out amidst a cloud of steam, dressed in baggy jeans that hang low on his bony hips, barefoot and towelling his hair. Draco glances up from his book, eyes moving over the now familiar body before him. Harry is too thin and looks older than his twenty years. The bruises have finally faded, but the deep red welts still remain, fragmenting the golden skin of his back and waist into puzzle pieces. The bone of his shoulder sits oddly in its socket; it will never heal properly after being left disjointed for so long. Draco's eyes drink in the sight.

By the time Harry lowers the towel and looks at him, Draco has returned his gaze to his unread book. He hears Harry move quietly around the room and feels the sway of the bed as he climbs up on to it, leaning against the head board.

"The hearings start tomorrow." Harry's voice is tired and worn.

Draco glances up and nods. He feels the cool weight of Harry's hand against his cheek and he closes his eyes and leans into it.

~~~~~~

On the third night of the Ministry's hearings Draco is jolted awake from yet another nightmare, a scream dying on his lips. Harry is already there, arms encompassing him, holding him tight. Draco searches frantically in his self-imposed darkness, sealing his mouth over Harry's in wet desperation and keening low in his throat.

Draco pulls on Harry's shoulders, wrapping his arms tightly around Harry's neck and digging his fingers hard into Harry's scalp. He moves down against the lumpy mattress, dragging Harry's weight on top of his own, and Harry follows.

Harry's hands are hot as they move over Draco's body, searing him, branding Draco as his own. Draco twists and arches into the touch, making soft noises of acceptance and reciprocating with his own fleeting touch over Harry's back and thighs and hips.

Draco keeps his eyes clenched shut, wishing this would never end, that they could stay here - in this moment - forever; a place where there is no reason for nightmares, no screaming, no pain. A place where he could live on touch and feeling and sensation alone, and never have to wake up to the reality of what the now has become.

Draco sobs as he feels Harry move over him, fingers trailing over the soft inside skin of his thighs and higher. He cries out as Harry enters him, moving slowly, almost too slowly; hands bracing Draco's hips to the bed to keep Draco from thrusting upward, impaling himself in his escape.

Something wet falls against Draco's chest and he frowns, then all motion stops. He hears, almost as if from a distance, the harsh whisper of Harry's voice.

"Draco."

Draco shakes his head, his hands moving to cover Harry's own where they strain to brace himself over Draco's body. "No."

"Draco, please."

Draco feels his heart pound and his stomach twist. He feels Harry begin to withdraw, to pull away from him, and he tightens his grip around Harry's waist, heels pressing sharply into the small of his back and anchoring him there inside Draco's body.

"Harry." Draco's voice is cracked and he feels tears seeping out from beneath his closed lids. "Harry, please don't do this. Please."

"I... I can't anymore." He hears Harry sigh, feels the tremble of air beneath his hand, as it shudders down his spine. Harry's head lowers slightly, hair brushing against Draco's chest. "Draco, please! Goddamnit, just open your eyes!"

Draco's breath hitches in his throat and he feels his jaw ache. The air he releases is wet and faltering as he once again shakes his head, "I can't, Harry, you have to under..."

"Understand what! That you can't stand to look at me anymore? Am I that much of a monster, Draco, that even now, even while..." Draco feels the bed shudder as Harry punches into it, feels Harry's knuckles graze the skin of his arm. Shaking uncontrollably, he grasps onto Harry's shoulders, trying to pull him near, to make him understand, but Harry yanks roughly away and collapses onto the mattress next to him, breathing heavily.

Slowly Draco opens his eyes and glances over. Harry's arm is pressed tight over his face, and his chest moves in harsh, sporadic movements.

"Harry, I..." Draco props himself on his elbow and bends low, lips hovering just above the silvery-white scar on Harry's upper chest. He kisses it slowly, lips moving gently against the skin. His tongue darts out, tentatively, to trace over the raised ridge of it. Draco pulls slowly away, dipping his head a little lower and finding a twist of angry red that winds itself over the paler skin of Harry's stomach. He presses his lips just above it and whispers into the skin, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Draco makes his way over Harry's body, stopping to investigate each scar, each mark, each knot of burned and twisted flesh with lips and fingers until he finally works his way back to Harry's mouth. Draco blinks down at him, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously, before capturing Harry's lips with his own.

Harry sighs beneath him and returns his stare. Draco deepens the kiss, hands moving slowly over Harry's shoulders and arms until they cover Harry's own, eyes remaining open and unblinking. Draco moves slowly, melding himself to the sharps contours of Harry's body, feeling Harry shift under him, arching and pressing back.

Draco pulls back just a little, placing soft kisses to Harry's jaw, gaze never leaving Harry's face.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I... I..." Draco's voice is strained and weak; he feels his lids begin to lower and he forces them open; leaning forward to press his forehead against Harry's, staring into red-rimmed emerald. "I promise, Harry, from now on...." Draco's breath shudders in his chest. "From now on I promise to look you in the eye the entire time."

Harry trembles beneath him and then he is crushed close, Harry's mouth moving wetly over his own, teeth grazing his lower lip; Harry's tongue tastes of salt. Draco moves slowly, eyes wide, as he pulls away slightly, bracing himself on his knees as his hands wander over Harry's chest.

When he finally lowers himself onto Harry, stretching and being filled completely, his eyes widen, and he sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep from screaming. Harry's eyes roam over his body, stopping at each scar and twist, each horrible disfigurement. Draco wants to pull away, to close his eyes and become nothing more than sensation, to forget; but he doesn't. Instead he watches Harry watching him, watches as Harry's eyes finally slide shut and he loses himself completely, watches as Harry trembles and thrust and falls apart beneath him; green eyes opening wide as his orgasm claims him.

Draco falls forward; face buried in Harry's neck as he trembles and allows the tight spiralling heat to sweep through him. His lips move over the sweat-slick skin, slowly sliding upward to once more claim Harry's mouth under his own.

Later, spooned tightly against one another, Draco's back pressed tight to Harry's chest, Draco smiles slowly and entwines his fingers with Harry's. As sleep slowly overcomes him he feels Harry yawn against his shoulder and settle deeper into the mattress, pulling the faded sheet up to cover them both.

~~~~~~

As the pre-dawn light shines weakly into the room from between the torn edges of the shade, Draco sighs and rolls over, feeling the warm embrace that surrounds his waist spasm and relax slightly. He blinks open his eyes and stares into the vibrant green of Harry's.

Harry smiles slowly, moving over Draco's body and pressing a thin, naked thigh between Draco's own. Draco reaches upward, dragging Harry's lips down to meet his; eyes wide in the pale bluish light that filters over the bed. Later he knows that Harry will return to his chair; but later doesn't matter. As Draco watches Harry's dark head lower to place damp kisses along his shoulder and chest, he wants nothing more than to remain in the now.

{About the Eros Affair • Fics by Scenario • Fics by Author • Project Notes}



	Title: Curative Measures Author: shikishi Rating: R. Warning: Both boys are suffering from the after effects of torture at the hands of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Not graphic, but is involved in the story. Canon: pre-HBP. Length: 2,200 words. Scenario: I promise to look you in the eye the entire time. Summary: Following their rescue, there are certain things that Draco simply can't escape. Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of the HP universe. Please see user info for full disclaimer. Notes: This piece should fall somewhere close to their rescue in rurounihime's story, Once Spoken. Hopefully she doesn't mind! Thanks to darkasphodel and coffeejunkii for the beta and help, any mistakes are purely my own for not listening to her advice. This is the final, revised version. Curative Measures Draco doesn't really remember all that much about being rescued; everything sort of swirls and fades in his mind. All he can do is make mental grabs at fragments that slip away too easily. Sometimes what he ends up with is the feeling of spells bombarding the walls of his cell, the dull sound of a door collapsing, clips of conversation that never gel to a cohesive whole, being cradled in the arms of a giant. But always, always it ends with the sound of Harry screaming out his name. ~~~~~~ He awakes in a panic, chest pounding and breath coming in harsh uneven bursts as he struggles for air. Slowly the sound of cold laughter fades; the echoing of heavy soled boots on stone and the terrible noises that come from the darkened corner recede along with the smell of mould and rot. He feels the bed dip and hands tentatively touch his shoulders, unsure of the response they will receive, before they are grabbing him firmly, clutching Draco to a too-thin chest. Draco closes his eyes tight and buries his face in Harry's neck, allowing the smell of sweat and cinnamon to envelop him. He can feel the skin grow damp around his chin from where he breathes in open-mouthed inhalations and he presses close, bending his nose deep into the hollow joint between neck and shoulder. Harry's callous rough hands move in circular patterns over Draco's back, bumping over prominent vertebrae and tracing the line of thin shoulders. Slowly the touch becomes firmer, deeper, and Harry's fingers wander down over the V of pale flesh between Draco's hip and thigh, thumbs circling in meandering patterns over the skin of Draco's belly. Draco turns his head, mouth pressing wetly over Harry's jaw until Harry shifts, and stops the movement of Draco's lips with his own. Draco sighs and opens a little further, flickering his tongue slowly before letting it retreat, awaiting Harry's response. It's as though he is drowning, melting into the heat of Harry's touch, and he falls slowly backwards; drawing Harry down with him. Harry runs his hands desperately over Draco's body, as though trying to memorize every line, every scar, every curve of muscle and projection of bone. Harry's mouth follows the same path as his hands, and Draco whimpers beneath the slide of tongue and fingers, eyes squeezed tightly closed and breathing laboured. He feels Harry move, nestling in between his open thighs; feels Harry nudge against him bluntly, and his breath quickens. Harry stills, and in the momentary quiet Draco can barely make out his name; a question already asked a dozen times or more. Draco shakes his head, keeping his eyes shut, and reaches blindly until his fingers wrap securely over the slicked base of Harry's cock and he presses down with a whispered, 'Please'. He can hear the softly whispered curse above him in the darkness, feel the tension in the forearms under his hand; but Harry finally does, thrusting forward slowly until he is seated fully, buried deep within Draco's heat. Draco cries out as they begin to move. Afterwards, they lie next to one another, heads barely touching on the shared pillow. Draco stares at the ceiling, tracing the pattern of a water-stain that spreads over the left-hand corner of the room. Harry sighs and places his hand on Draco's arm, leaving it there for long moments, waiting for Draco to reply. After awhile Draco turns and a sad smile flickers across his face. Harry kisses his forehead and returns to the recliner next to the single window where he spends his nights. Harry never sleeps in the bed, not anymore. ~~~~~~ Draco showers quickly, averting his eyes to stare blankly at the tiled walls as he soaps and shampoos. He towels off and dresses in the bathroom, avoiding the muggle mirror. He does not need to look; he knows what image awaits him there. The mirror shows him a creature, twisted and horrible and ugly: a monstrosity with his eyes. Pulling on his trousers and heading into the room, he nods at Harry. "I saved you some hot water." Harry rises from his chair, grabbing a pair of faded jeans out of the wardrobe as he passes it. He stops in front of Draco, green eyes glassy and red-rimmed; he lightly runs his fingers over the trickle of moisture that is gathered in the hollow of Draco's collarbone, exposed by the too-loose neck of his tee-shirt. Draco closes his eyes and trembles. He waits until he hears the bathroom door shut firmly behind him before he opens them again. Twenty minutes later Harry steps out amidst a cloud of steam, dressed in baggy jeans that hang low on his bony hips, barefoot and towelling his hair. Draco glances up from his book, eyes moving over the now familiar body before him. Harry is too thin and looks older than his twenty years. The bruises have finally faded, but the deep red welts still remain, fragmenting the golden skin of his back and waist into puzzle pieces. The bone of his shoulder sits oddly in its socket; it will never heal properly after being left disjointed for so long. Draco's eyes drink in the sight. By the time Harry lowers the towel and looks at him, Draco has returned his gaze to his unread book. He hears Harry move quietly around the room and feels the sway of the bed as he climbs up on to it, leaning against the head board. "The hearings start tomorrow." Harry's voice is tired and worn. Draco glances up and nods. He feels the cool weight of Harry's hand against his cheek and he closes his eyes and leans into it. ~~~~~~ On the third night of the Ministry's hearings Draco is jolted awake from yet another nightmare, a scream dying on his lips. Harry is already there, arms encompassing him, holding him tight. Draco searches frantically in his self-imposed darkness, sealing his mouth over Harry's in wet desperation and keening low in his throat. Draco pulls on Harry's shoulders, wrapping his arms tightly around Harry's neck and digging his fingers hard into Harry's scalp. He moves down against the lumpy mattress, dragging Harry's weight on top of his own, and Harry follows. Harry's hands are hot as they move over Draco's body, searing him, branding Draco as his own. Draco twists and arches into the touch, making soft noises of acceptance and reciprocating with his own fleeting touch over Harry's back and thighs and hips. Draco keeps his eyes clenched shut, wishing this would never end, that they could stay here - in this moment - forever; a place where there is no reason for nightmares, no screaming, no pain. A place where he could live on touch and feeling and sensation alone, and never have to wake up to the reality of what the now has become. Draco sobs as he feels Harry move over him, fingers trailing over the soft inside skin of his thighs and higher. He cries out as Harry enters him, moving slowly, almost too slowly; hands bracing Draco's hips to the bed to keep Draco from thrusting upward, impaling himself in his escape. Something wet falls against Draco's chest and he frowns, then all motion stops. He hears, almost as if from a distance, the harsh whisper of Harry's voice. "Draco." Draco shakes his head, his hands moving to cover Harry's own where they strain to brace himself over Draco's body. "No." "Draco, please." Draco feels his heart pound and his stomach twist. He feels Harry begin to withdraw, to pull away from him, and he tightens his grip around Harry's waist, heels pressing sharply into the small of his back and anchoring him there inside Draco's body. "Harry." Draco's voice is cracked and he feels tears seeping out from beneath his closed lids. "Harry, please don't do this. Please." "I... I can't anymore." He hears Harry sigh, feels the tremble of air beneath his hand, as it shudders down his spine. Harry's head lowers slightly, hair brushing against Draco's chest. "Draco, please! Goddamnit, just open your eyes!" Draco's breath hitches in his throat and he feels his jaw ache. The air he releases is wet and faltering as he once again shakes his head, "I can't, Harry, you have to under..." "Understand what! That you can't stand to look at me anymore? Am I that much of a monster, Draco, that even now, even while..." Draco feels the bed shudder as Harry punches into it, feels Harry's knuckles graze the skin of his arm. Shaking uncontrollably, he grasps onto Harry's shoulders, trying to pull him near, to make him understand, but Harry yanks roughly away and collapses onto the mattress next to him, breathing heavily. Slowly Draco opens his eyes and glances over. Harry's arm is pressed tight over his face, and his chest moves in harsh, sporadic movements. "Harry, I..." Draco props himself on his elbow and bends low, lips hovering just above the silvery-white scar on Harry's upper chest. He kisses it slowly, lips moving gently against the skin. His tongue darts out, tentatively, to trace over the raised ridge of it. Draco pulls slowly away, dipping his head a little lower and finding a twist of angry red that winds itself over the paler skin of Harry's stomach. He presses his lips just above it and whispers into the skin, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Draco makes his way over Harry's body, stopping to investigate each scar, each mark, each knot of burned and twisted flesh with lips and fingers until he finally works his way back to Harry's mouth. Draco blinks down at him, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously, before capturing Harry's lips with his own. Harry sighs beneath him and returns his stare. Draco deepens the kiss, hands moving slowly over Harry's shoulders and arms until they cover Harry's own, eyes remaining open and unblinking. Draco moves slowly, melding himself to the sharps contours of Harry's body, feeling Harry shift under him, arching and pressing back. Draco pulls back just a little, placing soft kisses to Harry's jaw, gaze never leaving Harry's face. "I'm sorry, Harry, I... I..." Draco's voice is strained and weak; he feels his lids begin to lower and he forces them open; leaning forward to press his forehead against Harry's, staring into red-rimmed emerald. "I promise, Harry, from now on...." Draco's breath shudders in his chest. "From now on I promise to look you in the eye the entire time." Harry trembles beneath him and then he is crushed close, Harry's mouth moving wetly over his own, teeth grazing his lower lip; Harry's tongue tastes of salt. Draco moves slowly, eyes wide, as he pulls away slightly, bracing himself on his knees as his hands wander over Harry's chest. When he finally lowers himself onto Harry, stretching and being filled completely, his eyes widen, and he sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep from screaming. Harry's eyes roam over his body, stopping at each scar and twist, each horrible disfigurement. Draco wants to pull away, to close his eyes and become nothing more than sensation, to forget; but he doesn't. Instead he watches Harry watching him, watches as Harry's eyes finally slide shut and he loses himself completely, watches as Harry trembles and thrust and falls apart beneath him; green eyes opening wide as his orgasm claims him. Draco falls forward; face buried in Harry's neck as he trembles and allows the tight spiralling heat to sweep through him. His lips move over the sweat-slick skin, slowly sliding upward to once more claim Harry's mouth under his own. Later, spooned tightly against one another, Draco's back pressed tight to Harry's chest, Draco smiles slowly and entwines his fingers with Harry's. As sleep slowly overcomes him he feels Harry yawn against his shoulder and settle deeper into the mattress, pulling the faded sheet up to cover them both. ~~~~~~ As the pre-dawn light shines weakly into the room from between the torn edges of the shade, Draco sighs and rolls over, feeling the warm embrace that surrounds his waist spasm and relax slightly. He blinks open his eyes and stares into the vibrant green of Harry's. Harry smiles slowly, moving over Draco's body and pressing a thin, naked thigh between Draco's own. Draco reaches upward, dragging Harry's lips down to meet his; eyes wide in the pale bluish light that filters over the bed. Later he knows that Harry will return to his chair; but later doesn't matter. As Draco watches Harry's dark head lower to place damp kisses along his shoulder and chest, he wants nothing more than to remain in the now. {About the Eros Affair • Fics by Scenario • Fics by Author • Project Notes}