Butterfly Kisses

***

Soft warm lips were pressed against his, coaxing him out of his slumber. Draco teetered on the border between the world of illusions and reality, finally falling into the physical world where that delicious mouth was. He sighed against those lips.

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep. He cracked an eye open to read Harry's response.

'10:38.'

Dread and anxiety oppressed him at the prospect of what the day was going to bring. His body tensed under Harry's. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. What if he couldn't hide his thoughts and feelings from the Dark Lord? That was a simple answer. He wouldn't live to see the next day.

Harry stopped kissing him and was unmoving. Draco opened his eyes.

'What's wrong?'

Draco pushed Harry off of him and got up. "What's wrong?" Draco said incredulously, getting dressed. "Well, where shall I begin? Oh but wait, I don't have any problems because I'm a Malfoy and I'm rich and I don't have a care in the world."

Harry's shock at Draco's uncharacteristic outburst turned to anger. 'I didn't mean it like that and you know it! What's your problem today?'

The Malfoy heir yanked on his robes. "You," he spat.

'Me?'

"Yes, you. I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you."

The Gryffindor proceeded to dress himself with haste. 'So it's my fault that you're in this mess called life. I'm tired of your mood swings. You're like a bloody girl!' Harry stomped past Draco, opened the door, exited, and slammed it with a loud Bang! that resounded throughout the room.

Draco fell on the bed. He had gotten mad at Harry for no reason. This anxiety over the Initiation Ceremony was going to drive him mad. Perhaps he could try to hide his feelings and the memories with Harry from the past three days.

He buried his face in the rumpled sheets. He could still smell Harry's scent. He groaned to himself. Trying to forget Harry just for today was not working if he was around things that reminded him of the black haired boy.

Draco got up and went out the door, shutting it behind him. The Room of Requirement disappeared as the door closed.

~*~*~

His left arm was hurting so much. It felt like a hundred knives was simultaneously cutting into his flesh. It burned him. He wanted to cut it off just so the torture would end.

"Mother," he managed to say between clenched teeth, "help me."

Narcissa looked down at her son's writhing form worriedly, her lips in a thin line. Draco Malfoy, the sole Malfoy heir, her only son, a full-fledged Death Eater, a Slytherin with too much pride and would never ask anyone for help was asking just that of his mother.

"Mum."

He hadn't called her that since he was eight.

"It hurts so much. Help me." Once gloriously brilliant silver eyes, now dull with pain and pent-up emotions, opened to look pleadingly at the person who gave the owner of said eyes life.

Narcissa turned away from him, knowing that there was no possible way she could lessen his pain. She had known that this day was bound to come, but she hadn't expected it to be so soon. From what little information Lucious bothered to tell her, she knew that the Dark Lord was planning something big.

When isn't that crazed lunatic planning something? she thought bitterly. I just wish he'd leave my family out of them. She took one last look at her son and closed the door to his room. Lucius was in the study as she knew he would be. He was lounging in his favorite armchair, sipping a glass of vodka. Cold gray eyes met hers before returning to stare at the fire. Narcissa took a seat in the matching armchair next to her husband.

"How long will it last?" Narcissa broke the silence that usually reigned between Lucius and her.

"He'll be able to tolerate the pain within twelve hours," Lucius' voice was devoid of any emotion.

"Twelve hours!" Narcissa was stunned.

Lucius gave her a cool look. "Yes, twelve hours. If he's a true Malfoy he'lll be able to put up with it. This is how our Lord separates the weak and the strong."

"But he's only a boy!"

"He's a Malfoy."

Lucius' indifference to their son infuriated her. It wasn't the first time, far from it. He had showed a bit more concern for Draco before the Dark Lord's second rise. Now that the Dark Lord was back nothing mattered to Lucius except pleasing him.

Narcissa tugged at her hair, a bad habit she only fell on when she was angry. "How can you sit there and let him suffer?"

"You and I both know there's nothing we can do."

She stood up and glared down at him. "You shouldn't've had him go through this until he was older!"

"Sit down," his voice was soft, yet dangerous.

She knew what that voice meant, but she was too worried over Draco to care about her own pain that was sure to come later. "He's too young!"

"I was young too," he said. "Now sit down."

"You didn't receive your Dark Mark until you were nineteen. He's barely turned seventeen!"

His eyes flashed. "Sit. Down."

Narcissa shook her head furiously. She felt her hair coming loose from the pins. It cascaded down her shoulders, the golden locks reflecting the soft orange and red glow from the fire. Her cheeks were flushed a delicate shade of pink. She didn't know that Lucius usually argued with her just to see her like this.

"I won't sit. Stop worrying about me and more about Draco."

Lucius stood up, towering over his wife. "You will not tell me what to do, Narcissa. I know what is good for Dra-- "

"I doubt that," she hissed at him. "What father lets their child go through that pain?"

"You knew when we were married that whatever children we had would serve the Dark Lord. You're only alive because I begged our Lord to spare you when you refused to receive the Mark."

Narcissa lifted her chin. "I'm glad I did. If the Dark Mark was going to make me like you I would have gladly killed myself. And in case you don't remember, I had no choice but to marry you."

"You would have married me even if it hadn't been arranged."

"I never would! I hate you!" she said.

Lucius grabbed her wrists and pulled her against him. She struggled to break free, dreading what would come. His grip didn't even loosen in the slightest.

"Let me go, Lucius," she said.

He lowered his head and brushed his lips across her forehead. She could already feel her traitorous body burning for him. She tried to pull away once more in vain before collapsing against him.

"No," she whispered. Tears gathered in her eyes. She was shamed, humiliated, and angry that Lucius could arouse her with just a simple touch. And damn the man for knowing it.

Lucius let go of her wrists. He lifted her chin so he could look into blue eyes that glistened with unshed tears. Narcissa could detect no other emotions in the gray depths except triumph. She looked down at the ground.

He touched his lips to hers, his other hand coming to wrap around her waist to pull her against him. Her arms wrapped around his neck of their own volition as Lucius deepened the kiss. She could feel his erection pressing into her stomach. That only made her blood run faster.

"Lucius," she murmured against his lips, pulling him closer.

He pulled back. Narcissa was ashamed to find herself groaning in protest. A sardonic smile crossed his face.

"You say you hate me, but you still want me. Do you know what you say during your climax?"

Narcissa shook her head weakly, not wanting to hear the answer.

"It begins with an 'I' and ends with a 'u'," he whispered in her ear.

Narcissa swallowed. She loathed the man now more than ever. She did love him, but it was a twisted love. She wished he was back in Azkaban right now.

He smirked. "See, Cissa? You don't hate me."

"Don't call me that," she moaned as he moved to dominate her.

~*~*~

He coulnd't escape from the pain. It seemed to weave in and out of every cell of his body until he felt like he was made of the red hot, burning sensation. He could even feel it in his sleep. The pain had lessened slightly since the Ceremony, but it still hurt enough that it made him scream.

Draco was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He did all he could to protect and hide the feelings that he had for Harry and the memories of him and Harry. Thankfully the Dark Lord hadn't probed his mind.

He nad never known there were that many Death Eaters. Over two-hundred. Every one had come to witness Draco's Initiation. Right after You-Know-Who had given him the Dark Mark, Draco passed out from the excruciating pain. He woke up in his bed later to see his mother. The pain then came back so that he couldn't talk to her. Not that they talked on a regular basis person to person. They tended to speak through letters. But she had looked so worried and helpless. He knew that she loved him. He was her own flesh and blood after all. Draco knew in his heart that deep down she felt that one of them had to love their son since Lucius didn't seem to.

He screamed as something sharp seemed to pierce his organs. It burned his insides, and never before could he feel so many of his nerves. He laid there panting, dimly aware that the bedsheets were soaked with his sweat.

The agonizing pain was replaced by a lesser pain. He wanted this to be over. The physical pain, but mostly the darkness that was poisoning his mind and soul.

Voldmort's.

I belong to no one.

Voldemort's.

I'm a Malfoy.

He branded you.

I belong to myself.

He can make you do horrible things.

"I also have no doubt in my mind that Voldemort will make you do some horrible things. Are you positive, Draco?"

He wished he hadn't said yes to Dumbledore. What was so wrong about hiding, anyway? There was no pain involved. And no lunatic tried to leave a mark on your soul.

Draco screamed his already hoarse voice even more hoarse as another attack of unimaginable pain hit him. Blissful blackness claimed him and he willingly accepted her.

~*~*~

Something cool was lessening his heated skin. Draco opened his heavily lidded eyes to see his mother bathing his torso with a cloth. Even though the woman felt an obligation to love him, he had to admit that she took good care of him.

"Mother," he whispered.

If the room hadn't been so quiet Narcissa wouldn't have been able to hear him. She looked into his eyes. Lucius' eyes. "Yes, Draco?"

Her son silently examined her. Her hair was loose and flowing freely around her shoulders. She never took her hair out of her bun, and if she did, she would never leave it like that. Her lips seemed more red and fuller. Draco glanced at his mother's white neck and saw a red mark near her jaw. He suddenly felt very sick. His mother and father had been fucking eachother while their son was screaming in pain.

What the fuck is wrong with them? he wondered for the first time. How could they posssibly do that when they knew that he was screaming, wanting to escape his body and the pain? He turned his head very slowly, so as not to bring more pain, and looked at the wall so he wouldn't have to look at her.

"Can you take me back to Hogwarts?" It was a command hidden inside a polite question.

His mother was clearly taken off guard. "What? Why?"

Because I can't stay in the same house with you or Lucius another minute.

"Just take me there," he said quietly.

"Draco, if you go back to Hogwarts in this state you'll be in big trouble. Dumbledore will know, and your father will be sent back to Azkaban and you could be sent there too," Narcissa said, a pleading note could be perceived in the otherwise apathetic voice.

"Blaise and Snape will take care of me. I'll be careful," Draco replied, still staring at the wall.

Narcissa was silent for a while, examining her son and thinking. She sounded doubtful when she spoke. "Alright. Traveling by floo will be quite painful in your condition." She put the cloth on his night table. "I'll help you to the fireplace and send your things after you."

Every part of him screamed in protest as Narcissa helped him to a sitting position. He sucked in his breath through his teeth, unwilling to cry out. He carefully eased his feet to the floor, relishing the cool feel of the stone floor. He draped an arm around his mother's shoulder. She grabbed onto his waist.

"Ready?"

Draco nodded.

With a soft grunt, Narcissa pulled him up.

Draco didn't think his legs would be able to support him. He leaned on his mother, glad that her slight build belied her strength. The world spun dangerously. He closed his eyes until things felt steady. With his mother's help and his determination, they finally reached the fireplace. Narcissa reached up, took some floor powder, and threw it into the fire.

Draco stepped away from her and into the fire. "Hogwarts, Snape's Chambers," he croaked. It was painful. He bit his lower lip to keep back the scream and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt solid ground and fell in a heap. He laid there, breathing hard. A few minutes later he heard two thuds that announced the arrival of his luggage that his mother had said she'd send.

"Mr. Malfoy?'

Draco forced himself to look into black eyes. "Professor Snape. C-Could you give me some pain potion?"

Snape nodded curtly. He magically lifted Draco and laid him on a couch. Draco heard him leave, then come back a few moments later. He drank the red, viscuous potion that was handed to him.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "I'll go back to my dorm as soon as the potion takes effect."

"Don't be riddiculous," Snap said. "You shall stay here until you are better. We cannot have others see you like this." Snape conjured a blanket and pillow for Draco and left to go see Dumbledore.

The pain began to recede. Once he felt the effects, Draco slowly stood up. He opened the door and stepped out into the dark dungeon corridor. He had been in Snape's private quarters. He made his way to the stairs that led to the main floor. His body still throbbed with pain, but just not as bad. He hoped he could make it to the Gryffindor tower. A part of him was willing to put up with the pain of climbing stairs just so he could see Harry. The other part of his mind was cursing at him for wanting to see Harry of all people, especially when he was in this state.

Unfortunately for Draco, the sheer physical strength he was demanding from his tired body was too much. He blacked out at the foot of the stairs leading to the third floor.

***