Nights Harry spent in front of the veil, listening to the whispers. They scratched his skin with a thousand tiny claws, dried his mouth like cotton wool. There were voices in there, words, but he could never quite make them come clear. Sirius, Cedric, his parents, all just out of focus. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he reached out to draw the veil aside.
Each time, the veil became a mirror, shimmering like a lake, cold as ice on his fingers. Harry caught a glimpse of someone standing behind him and then the mirror shattered into shards as fine as sand. Harry woke up to sweat-soaked sheets and seven years bad luck.
He could never quite see who was behind him.
Days Harry spent in school, listening to the noise. He sat with Ron and Hermione and heard them talk, heard the chatter of the students in the Great Hall. It rose and rose until he felt battered by it, caught in a storm of sound. He took to leaving meals early and lying on his bed, curtains drawn, fingers in his ears.
In the corridors, he heard footsteps behind him. They stopped when he stopped, started when he started. Sometimes there was a breath of wind, a murmur in the air around him. Someone was there, someone was watching him.
Harry tried to catch him in the act. He would turn around suddenly and throw himself to where he thought an invisible person might be. He blew dust into the air to see where it disappeared. On the grounds, he walked through mud, through puddles, to look for tracks.
They were always watching him, weren't they? All his life, someone always keeping track. They watched and whispered and wrote things about him and accused him and tried to kill him.
Hermione would tell him what to do, Ron would help him do it. They were on Harry's side. He went to find them. When he opened the portrait to the common room, he could hear their voices, low and secret. We can't, Hermione said. No one needs to know, Ron told her.
Harry shut the door and walked away.
People stared at Harry whenever he walked by. When he was alone, the voices in the corridors got louder, the footsteps didn't die away. He kept his wand in his fist, his invisibility cloak in his satchel, and a knife strapped to his thigh.
Harry hunted the castle for places to hide, places to trap an invisible foe. One day he turned a corner new to him and stopped dead when he saw Draco Malfoy standing in the shadows, a Ravenclaw boy kneeling in front of him.
They hadn't seen him. Harry watched until they'd finished and now he couldn't hear the whispers for the blood roaring in his ears. It was like the moment when a spell works for the first time. It was as if one of the broken pieces inside of him had finally found a place to click lock fit.
The next day, Harry jinxed Crabbe and Goyle and left them in a heap underneath a staircase. Then he found Malfoy and pushed him against the wall. Malfoy sneered and struggled and Harry got his hands under Malfoy's robes and made him come.
They were together every night. They fought together, teeth cracking, fingers raking. Malfoy bruised Harry's arms, bit his throat, fucked Harry so hard Harry was sore for hours afterwards. And all that Harry could hear was Malfoy grunting as he thrust, moaning as he spent.
Harry knew that Malfoy couldn't hurt him. He had no guile, no skill, no power. He was just a schoolboy with empty threats and sharp nails. In the afternoons, Malfoy leaned against the wall and smoked a cigarette while Harry sucked him.
I'm going to kill you, Malfoy always said, and then he told Harry how. Hold his head under the lake until he drowned and sank to the bottom. Curse him with an incurable disease. Push him off his broom from fifty feet up. Ash drifted down onto Harry's face and he stuck a finger into Malfoy's arse.
I'll stab you in the heart, Malfoy said, and came in Harry's mouth.
When Harry left Malfoy, the whispers started up again. The footsteps pattered behind him and he clutched his wand more tightly.
Hermione spoke to him, but Harry turned away. Ron shouted and Harry raised his wand. They didn't talk to him again. They watched him, though, heads together, mouths moving, and Harry knew he'd have to be careful.
He set wards around his bed at night and sat up until he heard Ron's snores. He went to Hogsmeade and bought packaged food, taking different sorts each time. The only thing Harry swallowed that he hadn't bought himself was Malfoy's come.
The teachers muttered when he went by and the students stared. Harry knew he wasn't safe here, they were watching him, they all were. He had to get away, away with Malfoy, and then no one could hurt them.
They had to leave today. Now. Harry wouldn't let anyone stop them. He took Malfoy's arm and pulled him down the corridor. Hurry, he said. They're coming.
Get the fuck away from me, Potter, Malfoy said and wrenched his arm away. Pain shot through Harry's chest.
Then he heard the footsteps behind him, loud, urgent. You can't stop me, Harry yelled. He turned around and drew the knife.
FINIS
This one kept me absolutely mesmorized. I have to say that it is the best one of yours that I have read so far.
It wasn't too short. It wasn't missing anything or rushed. I thought it perfect. Intriguing.
Congrats.
~Vale