Chapter Twenty-Two of 'Nova Cupiditas'- All Doubled

[lomonaaeren]

Chapter Twenty-One.

Title: Nova Cupiditas (22/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Warnings: Attempted rape, issues of consent, violence, gore, sex, heavy angst, profanity. Ignores the epilogue.
Summary: Nova cupiditas—the curse that makes the victim desire someone they hate. There is no cure, and the consequences grow increasingly violent the more the desire is denied. And now someone has cursed Draco Malfoy to desire Harry Potter.
Author’s Notes: This is a very dark story. It will probably be between twelve and twenty chapters.

Chapter One.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Twenty-Two--All Doubled

Someone pounded on Harry's door. He started to his feet, swearing. He had spent only a few hours in his room attempting to think, to deal with his memories of the torture and near-rape and murder that Draco had done, and trying to understand why he wanted to excuse them more than anything.

Well, all right, so he knew why he wanted to excuse them. That didn't mean that it was a noble or honorable reason, or one he wanted to admit to himself.

"What?" he shouted. He had thought that Hermione, and Ron if he had come back for the evening, would understand his need to be alone.

The door opened, and Hermione's head appeared around it. She was pale in a way that made Harry wince and regret shouting. He didn't want to hurt his friends any more than he really wanted to blame Draco for what he had done under the curse's influence. It was just hard to think of a way of dealing with—everything.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione began.

"No, I am," Harry said, and smiled at her. "It must be something important, or you wouldn't have knocked like that. What is it?"

"Malfoy is here," Hermione said, eyes so big that they looked like brown suns, and Harry groaned as every burden on his shoulders suddenly became twice as complicated.

*

Draco knocked on the front door of Harry's house again and stood there, waiting with a small smile on his face. Ordinarily, he might have felt humiliated that Harry was making him, a Malfoy, wait, but in this case, he was within the wards that would keep him from the sight of anyone passing by, and the only ones who would know of his potential humiliation were the people inside the house.

Which, granted, could include Harry's friends. But Draco had greater things to worry about when it came to them, such as the Dark curse that he had used on Weasley, than a momentary and fleeting experience of being forced to stand outside.

He had also briefly had the thought that Harry might be hiding from him. Draco had sneered at it the first time it appeared, and banished it to its proper place in the back of his head. He really didn't think that Harry was doing that. If he was, then he deserved to be left behind by Draco, who was ready to face and think about and challenge what lay between them.

Draco snorted a bit at that thought. He wondered how long this reckless confidence would last. He had been sent into near-ecstasy by having challenged his father and walked away, a result he wouldn't have expected before the curse, but he knew a refusal from Harry could dash his good mood as easily.

Then Weasley opened the door, and Draco discovered another thing that could.

His mind filled with a blazing vision of Weasley standing in the lab with his hand on Harry's shoulder, his expression smug as he watched Draco. It was so strong that it actually blotted out the picture of Weasley's face as Draco saw it here and now.

The jealousy took his limbs over and jerked them like a puppet's. Draco knocked Weasley backwards, pressing him against the wall opposite the door, growling under his breath as he held his wand against Weasley's throat.

"Have you touched him?" he hissed.

"Look down, Malfoy," was what Weasley said, his eyes narrowed. Draco felt the pressure of the wand between his ribs then.

Draco knew he should have hesitated, or backed away, especially because Weasley was acting with unusual restraint for an Auror with a grudge against Malfoys. But he couldn't. When he tried to take a breath, the jealousy constricted his chest. He could feel, with the same diamond-edged clarity that that emotion had given him when he was still under the curse, the suspicion cutting into his mind that Weasley had taken Harry to bed the moment Draco was out of the picture.

"I want to know," he said, his vision bursting with images like sunrises, "if you've touched him." His voice was stunningly calm. That would have reassured him more if he could have pulled his hand and his wand away from Weasley's throat.

"We give criminals a warning," Weasley said. He remained steady, too, and Draco knew in the back of his mind--the part that always stayed rational, now, the part that had fully escaped the curse--that Weasley's tranquility was more real than his. He had been trained to handle dangerous Dark wizards. Draco was running off instinct and magic. He still didn't care. "We tell them to put down their wands and surrender. Given that you're important to Harry--God knows why--I'm going to give you the chance to do that, even though you attacked me. You'll back away if you know what's good for you."

Draco was still drunk with rage, and incapable of paying attention to his advice. He didn't even pay that much to the pounding of footsteps that heralded the arrival of Granger in another doorway. She put one hand over her mouth as she stared at them, and then whirled and ran away. It didn't matter. Draco doubted she would go far with her husband, or lover, or whatever he was, in danger, and as long as she didn't, then he could track her down and do what had to be done if she'd slept with Harry.

Harry. The lust caused him to shiver, stuck his joints full of ice-tipped needles, and made him sigh all at once. But he had to deal with the threats to his sleeping with Harry before he could actually do it, and therefore, he made himself focus.

"I can't," he whispered. "You know that I can't, where Harry is concerned."

Weasley suddenly looked more interested than frightened, which was not the way, as far as Draco knew, that it was supposed to work. "I had thought he'd mostly cured you," he muttered. "And that it was the curse that was responsible for your Dark and obsessive behavior. Perhaps not? Perhaps it has some other origin, some other means of continuation?"

"Such big words," Draco sneered, but he was watching Weasley carefully now. Someone who could speak like that rather than cower with Draco's wand near their neck was someone who might strike back just when Draco thought he had him properly subdued.

"I wonder," Weasley breathed, "if we should have blamed you for more of what happened than we did. That's it, isn't it? You had us fooled, thinking it was that bloody curse, but it wasn't. Perhaps Nova Cupiditas wasn't the spell cast on you, which would explain why Harry cured it so easily. I never did trust that. I mean, I love Harry, but--"

Draco snarled the first spell that came to mind, the spell that had destroyed several of the Mudbloods in the meadow who had captured Harry.

He wasn't halfway through the spell when someone cast one that knocked his wand free. Draco spun around, his eyes locking on the one who had dared to do that, the one who stood at the head of the stairs with his wand in his hand and his hair flyaway around his head--

Harry.

*

Harry couldn't believe the tableau he saw when he came around the corner. Ron, held captive by Draco? Harry would have thought it more likely to be the other way around, since Ron had reason to dislike Draco because of the curse he'd cast on him.

And then he recognized the glaze in Draco's eyes and the shimmer of rage that practically shone around him, and reacted as he knew he should have done in the past, taking Draco's wand away with a practiced Expelliarmus.

Draco whipped around to face him, and his demeanor changed at once, remarkably. He smirked, and then began to stalk forwards with fluid, rolling motions of his hips, his eyes so wide that Harry wondered if was trying to fake innocence or simply wasn't able to contain all his emotions.

"Hullo, Harry," he murmured. "You see what being without you does to me?"

Harry held his ground, reminded himself that there was little that Draco could do to him with his wand in Harry's possession and the curse reduced in strength, and answered calmly. "A few days without me shouldn't have done that to you, Draco. In fact, we saw each other not long ago. Why are you acting like this now? What made you lose your mind?" He could see Ron beyond Draco, his wand and one eyebrow raised in question. Harry shook his head furiously. Ron snorted in indignation and probably disbelief, but lowered his wand.

"Coming here did it." Draco looked up at him with eyes that were once again blown, but more rational than they had been when Nova Cupiditas was still at full strength. "Being close to your friends again, knowing that they might be sleeping with you." His lips parted, and he looked as if he would turn around and try to kill Ron again with the sheer force of his stare.

Harry cursed under his breath. He hadn't anticipated this, had no idea why it was happening, and needed Draco near to cast the spells that would let him construct a coherent theory. He held his hand out. "All right, Draco," he said, trying to speak with the serene authority that he would have liked to really feel. "Come here, and we'll see what we can do to repair this."

Draco walked towards him as carefully as though the floor was full of splinters, and willingly grasped Harry's offered hand. His skin burned with heat, Harry noted, and cursed again. He had thought he'd done a better job than this.

"What's happening to me?" Draco asked. His voice was less impassioned than it had been a few seconds ago, Harry noticed at once. He sighed in relief. He didn't want to think about what Ron would have done if Draco had continued as wild as he had been before.

"That's what we're going to try and discover," Harry said soothingly, leading him into the lab. Hermione was on the stairs now, staring at them as if she was trying to figure out what incantation would solve the problem. Draco saw her and at once drew nearer Harry, his grip on him tightening to the point of pain.

Harry caught Hermione's gaze and, very firmly, shook his head. When she opened her mouth to protest, he narrowed his eyes, and she gave in and bowed her head until it looked as though her hair would sweep across her waist.

Harry sighed again. He knew that Hermione was worried about him, the same way Ron was, and didn't want to leave him alone with Draco. But it really was best if he could solve this problem alone.

"I agree," Draco murmured into his ear, and Harry started as he realized that he must have spoken the words aloud. He would have to watch that, he thought. Draco was likely to suffer unless Harry was in control of his every word and action.

Pain touched him and didn't touch him at the thought. Yes, it would be horrible to think that he hadn't done his job right after all, and because he might be responsible for his friends' suffering in the future.

But he couldn't deny that it would be wonderful if he could resume his relationship with Draco on a footing of helpfulness, which would confuse them both less than the kind of bond they had right now.

*

Draco was glad to feel the jealousy clearing from his mind as they came down into the lab. He could think and feel, now, and remember what his original purpose had been in coming to Harry's house. He wanted to find out whether Harry would feel able to date him--fuck him, be with him, Draco wasn't picky about the designation--knowing that some of Draco's actions might be controlled, still, by the curse.

And now he has graphic proof, and I reckon that I'll have less trouble getting him to commit to a choice, Draco thought, allowing himself to be turned around in the middle of the lab so that he was looking into Harry's eyes.

"How often do these emotions come to you?" Harry asked, as if he were a Healer, peering into Draco's face and frowning. He had raised a mask of cool indifference already, Draco saw, amazed. Of course, it probably helped that he would have to deal with Draco as a human being, otherwise. "The jealousy and the lust? Which is stronger? Does anything seem to prompt them?"

"The jealousy, thoughts of you with someone else," Draco said. "I think it was stronger today because I saw someone I thought could have been sleeping with you, rather than thinking about it in the manner of a fantasy."

Harry frowned. "Would it help if I reassured you that I would never sleep with Ron?"

"No," Draco admitted, and caught Harry's wrist before he could pull his hands free of Draco's shoulders. "The things I see in my mind are ridiculous and far-fetched. I know that. But I think the only thing that could combat them is reality."

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand. You want to speak to Ron and Hermione and hear them testify about how strong their marriage is, about how they'll never want anyone but each other?"

"You don't understand because you choose not to understand," Draco murmured, and shifted closer. "I mean that nothing else will content me but the reality of sleeping with you."

He waited to see what Harry would do with that. He could have leaned forwards and initiated a kiss, but he thought he had done quite enough of that lately. If Harry wanted him, he should sometimes take the lead and say so.

Harry closed his eyes. His breathing was very fast, Draco noted, and his face was very pale. Yet he didn't try to move away, and Draco didn't think that all came from Harry fearing that doing so would unleash another blast of the curse-influenced emotions. "We need to figure out some way around that," Harry murmured. "If they're only strong when you're near me, then staying away from me should do the trick."

"They're strongest near you," Draco corrected, squeezing down on Harry's wrist as a punishment for that particular misconception. "That doesn't mean they're nonexistent elsewhere."

"Oh," Harry said, and his eyes opened. They were so full of distress that Draco would have asked what was wrong, except that, first, he knew perfectly well, and, second, Harry was doing most of this to himself. "Then I don't--Draco, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to do some more research and try to figure out a more permanent cure."

"Yes," Draco agreed, letting go of Harry's wrist so that he could stroke his shoulder. The feel of rough cloth beneath his hand and warm skin beneath that wasn't so different from anyone else's Draco had ever felt, but it made him shudder with pleasure anyway. Most of his feelings towards Harry weren't rational, Draco knew, and the most rational thing to do with that was to admit it and go on. "In the meantime, let me tell you what I've decided. The decision remains the same whether or not you manage to completely cure me."

*

Harry felt a ripple of dread travel through him. For a moment, he was sure that Draco was going to say that they should stay away from each other while Harry did what research he could.

Then he scolded himself for stupidity. Draco already knew they would need nearness for the research to take effect in the first place, and why would he have come here, instead of owling, if he wanted to stay away?

Harry licked his lips, told himself to act like a man and not like the whimpering child he half-felt himself to be, and nodded. "All right. What did you decide?"

Draco smiled. It was the dazzling smile Harry had seen hints of during their confrontation yesterday, but it had a darker undertone, too, which reminded Harry of the way Draco had looked and behaved after Harry had cast the spell that temporarily banished the magical infatuation. His fingers played lightly along the edges of Harry's shoulders, down his neck, along his arms. Harry held himself firm in spite of that, and didn't look away from Draco's face.

"I decided that I can live with the uncertainty," Draco said.

"Huh?" Not his most brilliant moment, Harry thought, but he'd been distracted by Draco's touches.

"I can live with the uncertainty, the fact that the spell controls some of my emotions but not all." Draco was regarding him with calm, patient eyes, leaning back on air now as though Harry was a Potions experiment. Harry hated the desperation that coiled through him. Here he thought he'd been so composed and collected, and now he wanted nothing more than for Draco to continue touching him until they fell into bed because they had no choice. "I cast a spell that allowed me to see exactly how much influence the spell has over me. It's immense, but subtle. It would be impossible for me to question every action and know whether it's coming from the curse or from me, unless I'm feeling an immediate blast of jealousy or lust when I do it."

"Uh." Harry bowed his head and closed his eyes. The desperation still turned in his stomach, but now it had another cause. "Draco--I need to do something else. Something that will give you back your freedom."

"Complete freedom is an illusion," Draco said repressively, crushing his fingers down against Harry's arms. "That's what I've realized, and what I need you to--no, what I came to see if you can realize. I'm influenced by the things my parents taught me, by my pure-blood heritage, by what happened during the war. There's no way you can get past everything that has happened to you during your life, because you are those experiences. I can live with that, with wanting you and not knowing exactly why. Can you?"

Harry swallowed. His throat felt so dry that it was difficult. "Draco," he said.

Draco rolled his eyes, and the expression was comforting and not, at the same time. Harry was trying to remember if he had ever seen Draco look exactly like this, with exactly that expression on his face, so that he could know how much of the real Draco was facing him now, and how much was the Draco under the spell of either his hormones or the curse.

"I know what you're going to say," he said. "You're going to apologize again how horrible and how stupid you are for managing to only cure half of a curse that would have meant instant death for anyone it was cast on, before. And I'm going to stop you, because you're not stupid and I don't want you to act like it. No one I'm attracted to is allowed to be unintelligent."

"I wasn't going to say that," Harry argued, but weakly, because he completely had been. "I was going to say--has it occurred to you that there would never have been an attraction to me in the first place, if the curse hadn't happened? Do you want to be together only because the Seekers of Justice brought us together?"

"Of course not," Draco responded, and Harry's heart leaped and sank at the same time, which was an uncomfortable sensation. "That's why I've made the decision to tolerate the uncertainty. For now. Can you make the same one? Can you make this your choice, or are your hopes and fears always going to get in the way?" He stepped back, drawing his hands away from Harry's body as though he wanted to be sure that Harry made the decision free of his own lust. His eyes were challenging.

Harry took a slow, deep breath. "We probably shouldn't be discussing this," he said. "We should probably get rid of as much of the curse as possible, first."

"If we set a limit," Draco said calmly.

Harry shook his head, unable to stop himself from frowning. "If we set a limit to what? How many times we're going to kiss between the times that I'm working on research?"

Draco laughed. Harry's body reacted unfairly to that laugh. "No," he said. "A limit on how many times you're going to try and remove the curse. The problem with deciding that you'll remove it completely is that it might not be possible, and you'll only blame yourself and convince yourself that it is possible if we don't set a limit. Four tries, I think. You're only allowed to blame yourself four times. After that, if we haven't managed it, then we live with the consequences of the curse the way that I would have lived with scars if I'd mutilated myself."

"This is a bit more serious than scars," Harry hissed. "You could have killed Ron."

Draco smiled. "Next time, we'll know that. That's the first time we've been around your friends since the curse was halved. We didn't know. But we can prepare and we can make sure that we take the right precautions next time." He shook his head when Harry stared at him. "I don't know what else you want me to do, Harry."

"Why are you the one making all the decisions?" Harry asked. He knew that he sounded mulish, and he couldn't help himself. Draco seemed to be arranging their future together very prettily, except that he'd left Harry out of it.

"Because you don't want to make them," Draco said bluntly. "Because you're afraid, and you'll only hide your head and whinge about hurting me if I don't."

*

Draco wondered if he should smile at the expression on Harry's face, or if that would hurt Harry's feelings. But he had only spoken the truth as he saw it. Harry would dither forever about making important choices if someone didn't force his hand.

And Draco still felt the impatient burn in himself that he had when he departed the Manor. Yes, the jealousy being that strong at the sight of Harry's friends was an unpleasant surprise. But he didn't see why he should give up, stop seeing Harry, and brood in a corner about how things would never get better, so he might as well marry the woman his father wanted him to. He was at least going to grasp at the chances he had along the way.

He also refused to waste time worrying, as Harry wanted him to, about where and why this attraction had entered his life. Yes, with the curse. Yes, he would have been different if the Seekers of Justice had never cast Nova Cupiditas on him.

But he didn't know that things would be better, necessarily. Perhaps he would have married to his father's specifications and been bored the rest of his life. Perhaps the Seekers of Justice would have cast the curse on him later, pointing him towards someone else--someone who couldn't save him. You couldn't know what would happen, which made the yearning for a different past pointless.

He held Harry's eyes and waited, patiently, for him to realize that, too. But Harry stood there worrying his lip and looking so absurd that Draco sighed.

"Two decisions you need to make," he said. "Can you live with the uncertainty? Can you live with only trying four times to solve the curse?"

Harry gave a quick nod, which didn't actually agree to anything, but pressed on before Draco could say anything. "As long as you try to control yourself around Ron, Hermione, and anyone else. I don't want you to curse someone and land in prison."

Draco inclined his head. "You've made sacrifices for me, and I appreciate that," he said, in the purring tone that many people had told him was his most seductive. "I'll do my best. Now. Your decision."

Harry closed his eyes as if he was about to jump off a cliff. Draco wondered if he should make a joke about being as hard as one, and then decided against it.

*

What am I doing? I might hurt him.

But he already had. Harry could hear the screams Draco had uttered when he suffered under the breaking curse, because of the connections that Harry hadn't noticed in time.

And yet, Draco was willing to give him another chance, and the only thing he needed from Harry was an answer.

Harry felt as if he was jumping into the future, and for a moment, bitterly resented the Seekers of Justice that had made this decision necessary.

Or is it? Draco could have decided to ignore me for the rest of his life. I could have let him be prosecuted, or at least arrested. I could have decided he was too dangerous to help and left him in St. Mungo's that first day.

Their choices had already been changing and affecting things. If the curse was out of their control, other things might not be.

"Yes," said a voice that didn't sound like his own. "I agree."

Harry jumped.