Kiss
One-shot
Disclaimer: When pigs fly.
A/N: Oh my god, I should stop with the angst. I miss my happy endings. This probably doesn't make sense and I'm serious when I say that.
Harry finds it impossible to remember, but he's certain that he must have felt a motherly kiss once. He hadn't been an orphan for all of his life.
So he tries to recreate it in his mind and finds that it's surprisingly easy.
His mum, Lily, a very pretty woman who is incandescent in motherhood, is smiling as she lifts a baby Harry up in the air. Baby Harry gurgles in excitement, waving his chubby arms about. Their laughter mixes in the air.
Then Lily brings baby Harry closer to her, hugging the infant to her bosom and Harry touches the soft red strands, childishly fascinated.
With a loving smile on her lips, Lily lowers her face near Harry's and bestows a soft, motherly kiss on his forehead.
Baby Harry pauses, smiles, then continues playing with her hair.
Yes…something like that must have happened.
When puberty hits, oh, maybe mid-third year, Harry tentatively thinks about kissing Cho Chang. Just an innocent peck, on the cheek or, even more nicely, on her lips.
Sometimes, he finds himself staring at her pink mouth from across the Great Hall. He's seat is in a convenient place where he's got a clear view of the dark-haired Ravenclaw.
Cho might be eating, or talking to one of her friends, and Harry is always drawn to the smooth movement of her lips, the quick motion of her tongue.
It isn't until Ron subtly nudges him in the ribs with an unpleasantly bony elbow that Harry realizes he's staring.
Fourth year happens and Harry has stopped thinking of Cho's lips. Now, he only remembers them parted as she weeps for Cedric.
He's being listless, playing over and over the events at the Graveyard more than is healthy. Even once is dangerous. He keeps seeing, in his mind's eye, his mum and dad, Cedric and that old man.
Harry is reminded of a maybe-mum-kiss in the past.
Harry thinks of a strong eager voice that must have promised flying lessons as soon as Harry is old enough – and Lily lets him.
And then Harry thinks of Cedric and everything that would….should have been his: Cho Chang (maybe) placing a maternal kiss on a baby and Cedric promising flying lessons.
For the rest of the year, Harry is silent, secretly bitter. He feels death is finally catching up to him and after thirteen years of waiting, death is sharpening its scythe eagerly.
As Harry rides in Vernon's car back to Privet Drive, Harry feels better than he has in days.
He recalls, with relish, the real Moody threatening Vernon to treat Harry tolerably. And the others stood behind him, forming a sort of protective circle, and Harry had felt their love and care.
He closes his eyes and leans back. His hand drifts up to his cheek where Hermione had, surprisingly, kissed him. His heart beats fast as he fancies that he can still feel the warmth of her lips.
But, Harry realizes, he sees the kiss differently, nothing like the sort of kisses he dreams of sharing with Cho.
No…it was a friendly kiss, a take-care-I'll-miss-you-I-love-you-you're-my-best-friend peck.
It was – and always will be – a kiss that will carry all the love his 'family' has for him.
That simple little gesture keeps Harry from his nightmares for days.
But even that little solace fades away.
"It was…wet."
Truer words have never been said.
Harry knows Ron was trying to stifle his laughter, trying to be a sympathetic best mate. Maybe in a few days, Harry will find the humor in it as well.
But not right now, when he still mourns the loss of one of his first teen fantasies.
It was not the fairytale kiss Harry was expecting. True, Harry rarely expected any fairytale things for him but maybe, he'd hoped, just this once…this crucial, crucial moment in his life will turn out well.
It turned out be an embarrassing, eye-opening experience.
And certainly wet.
Harry feels his face burn and he rolls on his front, burying his face into his pillow. But he isn't sorry; oh no, at least he'd managed to kiss her, pathetic as it was.
This time, he sighs.
Cho's face, attractive even with blotchy eyes and tear tracks down her cheeks, her lips slightly parted and puckered, taunts Harry from behind his closed eyes.
It is a pleasant picture and Harry fancies that the kiss went perfectly: he brushed his own lips against Cho's, hands fisted and shaking slightly in nervousness. They kissed for a few seconds before pulling back, shy smiles on their faces.
But it had not happened that way.
It occurs then to Harry that Cho might not really see him as Harry, not even as the Boy Who Lived. Instead, Cho sees Harry as her last link to Cedric, as Harry was the last person to see Cedric alive…as well as the first person to see him die.
A bitter, hollow feeling spreads inside Harry's chest and he rolls over again, this time on his back. His eyes are suspiciously bright.
Harry now wishes that the kiss never happened at all.
Ron doesn't know, nobody knows, but during the summer after fifth year, Harry and Hermione share kisses that are far from friendly.
Harry is hurting terribly because of Sirius' death and Hermione offers her comfort.
Sometimes though, Harry thinks Ron knows because when he wakes up after a nightmare, Ron, who is very much awake, doesn't ask him if he's all right.
Life still sucks without Sirius and that's a black hole in Harry's heart but he's coping. Especially with Ginny's small hand in his, her lips moving against his.
It's not that Harry likes her all that much in that way, but he is attracted to her and everyone expects them to…so why not? He does not want to be alone anyway, because alone he thinks of dangerous things.
Like what Draco Malfoy is up to.
Because of Harry's obsession, he's reduced to stalking Malfoy in the shadows or under his Cloak. He knows, it's a gut-feeling that Malfoy is planning something and Harry intends to find out what, even if no one believes him.
It hurts him that his friends don't believe him, that his girlfriend thinks he's being paranoid. Someone even dared to say that Harry is looking for trouble so he can go and be the hero again.
…But if Harry isn't a hero all the time, even if he often hates it, then what is he?
So Harry skulks after Malfoy, noticing small things like the Slytherin's weight loss and the dark circles under his eyes.
Or that Malfoy always seems so tired and if one looks close enough, skittish and frightened.
This intrigues Harry and only fuels his obsession. He misses dates with Ginny and time with his friends. His fixation is slowly spiraling out of control.
Harry first realizes this when he wakes up at the crack of dawn breathing hard and gasping as he comes.
And Harry's certain he'd dreamt of blond hair and cold grey eyes.
Harry thinks Malfoy has never seemed more human (and pretty) as he did crying in Myrtle's bathroom. His incredible dreams swirl in his mind and it's like he's drawn by a damning magnet as he approaches Malfoy.
Malfoy notices and he stares at Harry with horrified, tearful eyes. He stands up, suddenly furious and whips out his wand.
In three steps Harry is in front of Malfoy and gripping his thin shoulders (fuck Malfoy is so thin now) and before Harry thinks about it, he kisses Malfoy.
A second later, Malfoy kisses back.
It is rough and angry, with biting teeth and lots of tongue.
Then the lusty fog clears from Harry's mind and he's suddenly pushing Malfoy away. They both look disgusted and Malfoy curses him.
Before Harry thinks about it (AGAIN), he cries "Sectumsempra!"
Blood.
So much blood.
It paints the bathroom floor and Harry feels ashamed and scared. He thinks he sees Malfoy's blood on his hands as well. He still feels Malfoy on his lips even as the blood flows.
Harry feels guilty for what he did to Malfoy.
Maybe he should apologize.
But events conspire against Harry and he's preoccupied with thoughts of Voldemort and Horcruxes. Then Dumbledore brings Harry to that cave and his mind is horror-struck as he tremblingly feeds a hysterical Dumbledore the liquid.
As they return, Harry's mentor terribly weak, they see the Dark Mark and cold dread fills both of them.
They hurry back to know if anyone is dead.
The dead is Albus Dumbledore.
Malfoy did not kill him, Snape did. But Harry's anger is clear and bright for both of them. Even if Malfoy had lowered his wand, the Slytherin was the one to provide Death Eaters entrance to the school.
The guilt is already gone, killed by the bright flash of green that took away Dumbledore's life.
But Harry cannot stop the dreams that are quickly turning into nightmares. His unfortunate kiss shared with Malfoy, so full of fire and lust, now brings his erotic hateful dreams to another level. He goes back to the Dursleys with plans of vengeance swirling in his mind. His relatives feel the rage coming off him in waves and smartly back off. Harry broods and boils as summer passes. Ideas storm his thoughts day and night and he finds new and satisfying ways to make Snape and Malfoy suffer as he lies on his bed.
But first…first Harry has to find the Horcruxes and get rid of Voldemort.
When he turns seventeen, Harry picks up his trunk, Hedwig's cage, holds his wand and blasts the doors open. The Dursleys are too scared to yell at him now that Harry is old enough to use magic out of school.
He leaves them and never returns, not even when they die of Death Eater raids.
Harry goes to Grimmauld Place, squashing the sad stirrings in his heart as he steps into the old house of Black. The Order is there, Hermione and Ron, and part of Harry feels hostile to them. They kept him in the dark, again, even when Dumbledore is gone. He goes straight to the library and searches for clues for the remaining Horcruxes.
Everyone tiptoes around him, knowing Harry is like a ticking time-bomb with his grief and anger. Hermione and Ron help Harry's research in silence.
The war begins.
Everyone is busy fighting or dying. Especially Harry. He trains tirelessly, mastering curses and Harry is powerful enough to bend them to his control. Harry kills Death Eaters, learns how to torture them for information and Moody praises him and says he will become a powerful Auror after the war.
Harry grows distant and Hermione and Ron don't know what to do. Their best friend is lost beneath all that fury, all that bitterness. Harry cuts through Voldemort's men like they are mere insects in his way. He is like a madman in his quest for revenge. It is no longer a quest to defeat the Dark but to avenge all the pain in Harry's life.
Soon, his friends learn to fear him.
As for Harry, there is something immovable and painful always urging him on, telling him to cast another curse, to press more for information, to never stop until the hollow, hollow feeling in him disappears.
At night, Harry barely sleeps. Strategies fill his head and he no longer thinks of Sirius and Dumbledore, of his parents or of kissing Malfoy.
Finally, it all comes to a head one stormy afternoon.
News of a possible Death Eater attack reaches the Order and a team of Aurors and a few Order members are dispatched to the site, Harry being one of them.
They go to Hogwarts, where it is no longer a school but a refuge for the homeless or injured. McGonagall welcomes them in, looking decades older. She is tense at the possible attack and has already sent the people taking refuge in the castle to the deepest part of the dungeons.
She sees Harry but barely recognizes him. He no longer looks like a boy (has he ever looked like one?) but a fierce, embittered man whose eyes shine like the Killing Curse.
Soon, one of the Aurors alerts them that a large group of Death Eaters are marching their way to Hogwarts.
Harry waits in the shadows, anticipation rising in him.
Hermione joins him and her eyes look sadly into his.
"Stay alive, Harry," Hermione whispers and bravely kisses his cheek.
Harry flashes back to fourth year when she had done the same gesture. His heart aches but he remains silent.
A large piercing wail resounds with the blasts of thunder as the Hogwarts wards finally fail.
Harry dodges a Cruciatus in time, hurling a Blasting curse aimed at a black-cloaked figure. His magic slams into the Death Eater, sending him crashing into a large tree trunk with a sickening thud before falling to the ground.
The battle is fierce and there is no clear winner. When one Death Eater drops, another member of their side follows. Harry sends an Expelliarmus at a Death Eater who is trying to sneak behind Hermione and Hermione whirls around, casting the full-body bind.
Hexes and curses and spells fly in vivid color in every direction. Some badly aimed ones sail into the Forbidden Forest.
Harry Crucios a nearby figure and looks around for anyone who needs help.
Rain falls from the sky and the battle becomes even more difficult with slippery puddles of mud.
"GINNY!"
Harry turns around at Ron's wild yell and sees Ginny take a bad hit from another dark-cloaked figure and he goes to her rescue. The Death Eater stands over the fallen redhead and seems to be speaking to her, wand pointed at her frightened face.
"…you filthy, slimy, Mudblood-loving bitch…"
Harry feels a surge of adrenaline and he lifts his wand and before he even thinks of it, he casts the Killing Curse. The bright green light flashes so brightly and engulfs the Death Eater before he can even react. The figure falls to the ground, dead, and his wand clutters to the mud.
Harry breathes heavily and he helps Ginny stand on her feet. She is shaking, eyes staring widely down at the dead body.
Ron rushes up to his sister and hugs her, demanding if she is all right but Ginny is struck dumb. Harry realizes that the rest of the Death Eaters are fleeing and they have won this round.
"Ginny…Ginny! What's wrong?" Ron is frantic, wiping his wet hair away from his face.
Ginny blinks and raindrops trail down her cheeks (or tears?) and she shakily points at the slumped body.
"That's…that's…"
Harry bends down; rain dripping down his glasses, and pulls down the thick wet cloak. Silvery-blond hair flutters and Draco Malfoy, face twisted in anger and hate, lies there dead.
Shock slams into Harry without warning and he falls to his knees. Ron is cursing and leads Ginny away.
Harry's head is spinning as he stares at Malfoy's face. He killed him. Harry killed Malfoy.
For all the unforgiving voices rejoicing within Harry, his heart still manages to break.
Tears rush to Harry's eyes as for the first time in months he sees what he has become: a monster.
"Oh Malfoy," Harry murmurs and brushes the soaked hair away from his nemesis's pale face.
Hermione stands behind him, drenched from the rain and sporting an injured arm. "Harry…"
Harry looks back at her and his eyes are wide and bright, full of hurt and reflecting the image of the lost boy Hermione remembers long ago. Then Harry looks down at Malfoy again and leans forward and there on the colorless lips he places a gentle kiss.
END
(what happens with the rest of the war is up to you)