Draco malfoy baby daddy lemon

As always the Portkey left him disorientated and nauseous. It was how Voldemort had managed to abduct him after the TriWizard after all, and who ever had abducted him obviously knew that. "Oh Potter, Potter, Potter. I was led to believe you would be a challenge. And yet here you are, cowering at my feet like the puling TEEN you are.". Harry slowly lifted his eyelids. He knew his contempt for her was shining strongly in his eyes, as she gasped and took a step back. "Yeah, I know. I'll Ennervate him once I get off the Floo. Have you got Malfoy?". "This see this is how I know there is something wrong with you. The Harry I know wouldn't talk like that. He wouldn't even know the meaning of the words. And Before Harry could disabuse him of his hopes, the barely alive figure was kicked from behind and finally slumped over. Harry watched with a strange mix of hope and adoration in his eyes, as Draco finished Voldemort off for good with a simple Abattoir hex, breaking the vile man's neck with a spiralling twist and an unusually satisfying crunch of bone. Green eyes met grey; the overwhelming fatigue and battle weariness was obvious, but alongside that was the joy that they'd both survived. The Sentinel cast searching eyes over Draco's body. He had not come away unscathed, and he could see that a long jagged laceration down the Guides arm would need medical intervention. There was also a scorched area on the thigh of his combat pants that spoke of a burn that could be problematic if it was not dealt with quickly. Soon she seemed to be happy and came to stand in front of him. He waited, hoping to catch her on the back foot as she lifted her wand for Ennervate, Aguamenti or some other similar spell. What he wasn't prepared for was the press of her body against him and her lips covering his in a more than sisterly way. He twisted his head to one side and was pleased to hear a startled little squeak from her. At Harry's quizzical look she spat out, "Snape, that greasy dungeon bat.". The young witch blushed deeply and gave him a sour look. Harry knew pushing her was not a good idea, especially as she was the one seemingly with the upper hand. But he was secure in his ability to cast a mean wandless shield that would keep her busy for a while, at least until he could make a hole in the wards. All he had to do was keep her talking while he worked. Over their telepathic connection, Harry joined his Guide in the final countdown. As he struggled to get his breathing under control, he heard the whoosh of a Floo connection. Although his senses were still out of whack, he decided it was a necessary risk to dial up his hearing and find out just what was going on, before facing whoever it was that was holding him captive; be it a vengeful Death Eater or Dark sympathiser looking to use him for collateral. "Yeah, 'K. He's probably gone to ground at Grimmauld, and I know Kreature will let me in. I'll be there before you know it.". He sat firmly on the adrenaline spike that threatened to push him into a feral state. He was already aware that his chest, legs and wrists were held– and with magical restraints. He knew that try as he might he wouldn't be able to break those, as the more force was applied to them, the more strongly they held. They had been used by the Aurors for the last few years in order to detain prisoners who were about to be Kissed. It meant that the prisoner could be left alone in the room with the Dementors, which was a relief for those chosen for Execution Squad. That was one worry Harry didn't have. There were no Dementors here. There were no screams from Lily Potter or the hissing voice of Voldemort. "Ugh, no. Slippery little ferret had a broom shrunk in his pocket and he kicked off before I could Stupefy him. I managed to get the tracking spell on him though, so I'll follow that.". Luckily he was stronger than anyone knew, and while he couldn't break the restraints hold on him he was still able to cast, as long as he was careful to channel his magic as a trickle rather than a flood. "Now you see, you really won't, Tommy-boy. We've made sure all your nasty soul pieces are gone.". He heard the Floo close, and then the unmistakeable feeling of someone closing the Floo with some really heavy duty wards washed over his magic. He finally could feel his equilibrium returning, but kept his eyes closed as he sent out his senses one at a time to try and map the physical and magical area. Voldemort twirled his wand in contempt, firing off a desultory hex at Harry's rapidly failing shield. Potter's wand lay blasted into tiny splinters only a few feet away, but he couldn't say he was sorry to see it gone. Harry had to admire the strength of will of the other man snake thing snake-man-thing as he stubbornly clung to the last seconds of life, with thick grey/black blood and brain matter pouring from a two-inch hole through his brain. The thin, blue lips sneered and Riddle's eyes flickered to the scar on Harry's forehead. "I nearly chucked up. It was a mess, 'Mione. That must have been some fucking Dark spell they used on him. Seems like you were right.".