
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/871801.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Harry_Potter, Albus_Dumbledore, Narcissa_Black_Malfoy,
      Poppy_Pomfrey
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Chan, Incest, Parent/Child_Incest, dark_thematic
      elements, Adult_Content, Romance, One_Shot, TSS, The_Silver_Snitch,
      written_in_2005
  Series:
      Part 12 of the_original_The_Silver_Snitch_stories
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-06 Words: 2547
****** The Deepest Sin ******
by Bonfoi
Summary
     He hated her with a passion. Not like the passion he had for Harry
     Potter. Oh, no! The hate for her was bone-deep, coursing through his
     veins every time he remembered he was alive. What he felt for Harry
     wasn’t hate; he lusted after Harry’s body, he envied him his friends
     and allies, he even wanted to be him sometimes, but, Draco Malfoy
     never hated the Boy-Who-Lived. But oh, he hated Narcissa Malfoy…
Notes
     Please note the warnings. If rape/incest squicks you, please stop
     reading now. There are dark themes touched upon in this fic. Read at
     your own peril.
     =====================================================================
     A/N: Originally published 07/07/2005 on The Silver Snitch.
See the end of the work for more notes
                                  §§§º§§§º§§§
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the
copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and
affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any
malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses
who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the
ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
                                  §§§º§§§º§§§
“Get up, Potter!” The voice wouldn’t let him rest. It was always there, always
making him move, breathe…live! Why? Why did it always push its way into his
dreams? Why were there soft kisses on his face? Why could he feel the faintest,
sweetest breath across his lips? All Harry Potter ever wanted was to be loved,
and to exist in peace. Well, he had his peace…why wouldn’t the voice leave him
alone to enjoy it?
                      hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd
After three months of haunting the infirmary, Draco had become a fixture.
Actually, after three days, Madame Pomfrey had given up trying to remove the
young man.
At seventeen, Draco already stood six-feet-two-inches and carried his lithe
Quidditch-trained muscles well. His shoulders had broadened and his baby-faced
angles had softened somewhat. All this on top of living through a war, and
being secretly in love with the savior of the wizarding world, was enough to
mature anyone. The fact that he’d been first on the scene after Harry had
somehow not only killed Tom Riddle, but, incapacitated all the Death Eaters
lent a patina of tragedy to an otherwise cold face.
“Wake up, Pryderi. (1) I need you here to liven up my days, don’t you know, you
insufferable prat?” His voice was always whispering into Harry’s ear, seeming
to search out any response that showed the Boy Wonder was still within reach.
“It’s been three months exactly, and my life is really boring without you
arguing and taking the limelight.”
There was a shiver of motion, just a hint of movement, at that last comment. It
had been happening more and more frequently ever since Draco had taken to
pointing out Harry’s celebrity status. If not for a chance word with the
Weasley’s, he wouldn’t have understood Harry’s almost rabid obsession with
privacy and denying his appeal to the world of Magic.
Draco couldn’t help himself, and he awarded Harry with a brief kiss on his
eyelids. Again, a mere ripple of motion, and he had to smile. “So, you’re more
interested in kisses than in popularity…” His voice trailed off as Harry’s
right hand reached out blindly. Stunned but still functioning, Draco slipped
his hand into that cherished appendage and cradled it gently. A random tear
slipped down his face as he smiled at their clasped hands. “Oh, damn,
Harry…Looks like I’ve gone and caught you again,” he whispered.
                      hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd
Narcissa Malfoy stared into the flames before her. Her Dark Lord was dead,
destroyed at the hands of a teenage boy. Her husband was…somewhere…beyond her
reach. And, her Precious, her Draco, was hiding behind Dumbledore and the wards
of Hogwarts.
Her burning eyes flared with want. She wanted her Precious back. Under
Voldemort, she’d enjoyed unlimited power over the scion of Malfoy. She wanted
that delicious power back. She wanted her son back in her bed.
She remembered the first time she’s fucked her son, for that’s what it had
been. A most amazing sexual experience and she’d done it as often she could
those two summers, without Lucius being any the wiser. The Imperious curse
she’d put on Draco had seen to that detail. Draco had come home from his third
year at Hogwarts, a gangly youth, just a shadow of the man he’d become, but
oh…he was desirable. His fine hands, his pouty pink lips, his lithe boy’s body.
She had indulged in many vices under the Dark Lord, yet, even he drew the line
at incest; however, Narcissa had never denied herself anything; thus, she took
her son’s virginity that summer. And, she took his innocence and dreams every
night after that. For two years, he had been hers.
Her fingers had crawled under her robes, flirting with the soft skin of her
inner thighs, weaving like drunken spiders on the smooth skin of her sex. She
abhorred the kinky hair that grew there and had spelled it away after her first
time with Draco; she loved the feel of their skins crushing together as she had
him take her. With this memory, she delved into herself, rubbing and thrusting
onto her fingers.
She could remember how Draco’s cock had changed as he grew up, and she felt the
memory of those changes as she stroked herself to completion. The tremors and
the glow of release merely dampened her desire for her Precious. She would have
him, again. They’d pay for stealing her precious boy from her!
                      hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd
Sunshine, even muted by thick curtains, will hurt the eyes of one who wakes up
after three months in a coma. However, that identical sunshine showing the
person whose voice had been your only lifeline over those same three months was
priceless, and worth every tear. The barest whisper, “Draaccoo…Llyrrr?” (2)
The book in Draco’s lap slipped to the floor as he went from sitting to
kneeling. “Harry?” Those emerald orbs were touched with silvery speckles, but,
they could see him. They could see him!!! “’Bout damn time, Potter! I’ve been
waiting for you for months!” The tears he’d always held in overflowed. His
Pryderi, his Harry, was awake!
“Wa…ter?” Harry croaked. Draco handed him a small glass, and got a nutrient
potion down his throat as well. Then a sudden shout: “Madame Pomfrey! He’s done
it again!” The smile in that voice could have brightened the gloomiest face,
Snape’s included.
Bustling footsteps sounded, and Madame Pomfrey’s beaming face came into view.
“Just hold the dear boy’s hand, Draco. I’ll examine him quickly.” A few passes
of her wand, some mumbled spells, and she looked relieved. “He’s going to be
fine, if a bit more magical than before.” She sighed, and smiled down at Harry.
“We’ve missed you fiercely, my boy. And, I’ll thank you not to be doing
anything like that again!” On that note, the mediwitch winked, nodded to both
young men, and went off to spread the good news.
Hand trembling as he pushed Harry’s fringe off of his forehead, Draco gave into
his softer side and climbed onto the bed to cuddle with the now-awake patient.
Some tender complaining aside, they settled themselves together. “You have the
most demanding voice in the world, Llyr…” Harry sighed out. Feeling his lover’s
glance, he smiled. “I always said I’d follow you anywhere, as long as you
talked to me…”
“Well, my fine young man, I’ll have you know that this voice is yours for
forever.” Draco leaned into Harry’s neck and softly nuzzled the tender skin of
his collar bone. Whispering, “I’d be lost without you, oh prat of my heart!” He
could feel Harry’s chuckle, even if he couldn’t hear it.
An hour later, Madame Pomfrey and Severus Snape found Harry Potter wrapped in
Draco Malfoy’s arms, much like they had been after that final battle with
Voldemort, but for one difference…Both young men were smiling in their sleep
like angels rewarded with their own piece of Heaven. Sharing a look, they left
the pair to their healing sleep.
                      hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd
“Dumbledore, I’m here for my son.” The once dulcet tones of Narcissa Malfoy had
grown strident with each minute spent in the old wizard’s presence. She had
finally come for her Precious, and she would not be denied. She’d have her
vengeance on Potter, and her gratification at the same time. The old fool in
front of her was merely a bump in the road.
“I’m sorry I cannot help you, Mrs. Malfoy.” Albus Dumbledore had finally heard
of Draco’s nightmares after the second summer of his mother’s abuse. He would
no more turn the young man over to her than willingly take the Dark Mark, even
if it were still possible.
Luckily, after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, he’d hidden Lucius Malfoy away.
Well, if putting him into Severus Snape’s not-so-tender-care counted as hiding.
And, it was from him that Albus had the letter saving Draco from Narcissa’s
clutches. A letter he’d had ratified with the Ministry of Magic and the
Governors of Hogwarts. She would have to break even more laws to get to her
son.
“You have no power over young Mr. Malfoy, Narcissa. I have a letter stating
Draco is to be under my guardianship until he reaches his majority. With that
in mind, he will stay here, under my care, until he is ready to leave.” Even
Fawkes agreed with that sentiment, trilling out a series of sweet notes.
Seeing red, Narcissa pulled out her wand. Aiming at the interfering old fool,
she shot off a curse, “Crucio!” Unfortunately for her, the office of the
Headmaster was heavily warded for such instances. The curse backfired.
As she writhed in pain, Dumbledore stood over her. For once, the maddening
twinkle was absent from his eyes. This was the mage that defeated Grindelwald.
“You will never harm Draco again, Narcissa. You will more than likely never
even be able to practice magic again due to your problem.”
While she was still under the curse, he hexed her with Withered Hands (3), thus
siphoning her magic into Hogwarts’ walls. It was an ancient defense that hadn’t
been used for almost five hundred years, but, the Headmaster knew if there was
someone deserving of its punishment, she was passing out in front of him.
“Finite Incantatem Crucio.” He ended her curse, but, let the siphoning continue
until only a hint of the malignant woman existed.
Taking a pinch of Floo powder, he strode to the fireplace. “St. Mungo’s,
Terminal Ward.” Within minutes, a mediwitch and magical stretcher were in his
office removing the insensate body of Narcissa Malfoy. Unbeknownst to them,
part of the hex was still ongoing; within her ravaged—now non-magical
body—Narcissa was living everything over and over again, only this time from
the point-of-view of both her husband and son. She would be mad, then dead,
within the space of two weeks. Unloved, and unmourned.
                      hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd
::Six_months_later::
“Llyr…Llyr…You have to…urgh!” An elbow to the ribs will do that to one. Harry’s
eyes crept slowly open in a grimace as he surveyed his lover. Well, now, his
husband. And he did love that word. In a simple ceremony, Lucius (the Lucky, in
Harry’s opinion!) gave his son Draco away, while Molly Weasley brought Harry
forth.
Silver-grey eyes opened languidly to see the man he’d married the evening
before. As a seventeenth birthday present, his father and Dumbledore had
arranged their marriage. A small affair, they had only Headmaster Dumbledore
and Professor Snape, Lucius and Molly to witness. Harry had somehow found an
ancient binding ritual that would allow their love to only grow and deepen as
they aged, and even gave them the power to have children, should they so
choose. “Merlin, Pryderi, love…You’re noisy…” he murmured against Harry’s lips.
Well, what was an arm that had fallen asleep or an elbow to the ribs when your
one-and-only was kissing you? Harry neither minded nor bothered with the pins-
and-needles feeling. His lover was kissing him awake.
Gentle fingertips traced over muscles with the intent of rememorizing every
nuance of their texture, their extent. Both men grew even more aroused as they
turned in each other’s arms. “Make love to me.” Smirking grey eyes met dazed
emerald ones. They had said it at the same time.
Draco’s questing fingers were closer to Harry’s hardening cock. He feathered
his fingertips up and down, lightly grazing the leaking tip with his thumb.
Harry’s wheezing gasps and tremors gave him the sense that he was doing just as
he ought. And, to add spice, he nuzzled and nipped his way across his husband’s
collar bone, leaving his mark for all to see.
Harry’s hands hadn’t been idle. He grasped Draco’s bum and kneaded it in
ecstasy, grinding Draco’s arousal into his. They rubbed and gasped together.
The combined pre-come of each added to the gliding sensation.
“Llyr…take…take me…” Harry gasped out. “Love me…”
With a smirk and a soft, “As you wish!” Draco’s other hand slipped off to the
side, searching for the small pot of lubricant. Ah, there it was. Dipping his
fingers into the never-tip pot, he scooped a dollop onto one finger and brought
it to Harry’s entrance. The night before, Harry had licked and tongued his
entrance before joining them; this morning, Draco would be the traditionalist.
He gently prodded his greased finger into the tight heat, slowly sliding into
the place he never wanted to leave. A second finger, scissoring in and grazing
Harry’s prostate, then a third. “Mmmm…Dra..co…pleeeaase…” Harry’s descent into
incoherency was almost complete. More grazes of the prostate and Harry was a
quivering mass of man, just on the verge of coming apart.
Leaning down to worship his chest, Draco licked each nipples in turn, with the
barest of suckles and nips. He then proceeded to kiss his way back to Harry’s
plump lips. “I love you, my Pryderi.” He kissed him, deeply, sucking his tongue
and exploring that oh-so-wonderful mouth. As he did so, Draco maneuvered his
way into Harry’s heat. The world waiting in awe as they became one.
When he was fully seated and waiting for his husband to adjust, Draco rocked in
and out, inches at a time. “Mmm…ore….” With that command, he sped up, finally
pounding in and out of the man who held his heart. “So…tight…so good!
Gods…love…you…Harry!” They came within seconds of each other, crying out each
other’s names like a benediction.
An hour passed, and the lovers still lay entwined on the bed. Well, why
shouldn’t they? It was their honeymoon; there was no dark lord to vanquish;
and, the evil that had hung over Draco’s life had been nullified. They could
afford to relax.
“So, Mr. Gryffin, what do you say to staying here forever?”
Draco still had to marvel at the devious Harry Potter…no, Gryffin. By changing
his name—as the Heir of Gryffindor he had the right to it—he was trying to
circumvent the rabid interest everyone paid him and his life. And, in doing so,
he also was giving Draco a future of hope, not darkness. “Well, Mr. Gryffin, I
say we shag like bunnies for the rest of our lives and enjoy our newfound
peace.”
With that thought, the two young lovers again consummated their marriage. In
the years to come, they would fight and make-up, laugh and cry, but, they would
never do it alone. After all, when you are the world’s most powerful wizard of
an age, you get to have the family you want, especially after you cast the
right spells.
                                  §§§º§§§º§§§
       ~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.
                          Thank you for reading. ~~~
End Notes
                      hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd
     Reference:
     (1) In Welsh mythology, King Pryderi of Dyfed was the son of Pwyll
     and Rhiannon. From: Pryderi_on_Wikipedia.com
     His name means ‘worry’. Pryderi_on_Pantheon.org
     (2) In Celtic mythology, Lir ("the sea") . He is also called Llyr in
     Welsh. From: Llyr_on_Wikipedia.com
     Also: The Welsh sea god. Llyr (Lir Llyr) is the father of Bran,
     Branwen, and Manawydan. He is equal to the Irish god Lir. From: Llyr
     on_Pantheon.org
     (3) Withered Hands was a spell made up specifically by me, for this
     fiction.
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