Kiss Me or Kill Me: Chapter Two
By Mendingausedheart
Beta'd by Layhe
November 20, 2006

Disclaimer: Any relation to the Harry Potter world does not belong to me. The Harry Potter world and the characters in it belong to JK Rowling. The idea for the story belongs to me.

Warning: This is a slash between Harry and Draco. Don't worry this story is not going be a total yaoi. It’s going to be a non-sexual relationship between this two with a little flirting. This story is not going to be graphic. I don't do that type of stuff. I am just warning readers just in case they do not like slashes.

Summary: Harry goes on his own to find the Horcuxes. In a small town he runs into Draco. Should Harry kill him for what he did or is there more to Draco that he wants to discover?

Warning #2: Violence and Language

Chapter Two

Open wounds appeared on Draco’s face, blood streaming down his forehead, nose, cheeks. He could hardly defend himself from angered Harry who was pounding down on him. He opened his eyes slightly. “Potter… Please,” Draco could barely speak, spitting out blood.

“You have no right to say those words,” Harry punched him again. “You are going to pay severely for the consequences you have committed.”

“I was not the one… who…” Draco gasped for air. “Who… killed him.”

“But you sure were the one who let them in that night!” He yelled while giving more deadly blows to Draco’s face.

“Please… they…” Draco’s voice ceased, his eyes slowly closing shut.

Harry paused and noticed that Draco stopped talking. Harry wondered if all his anger finally killed the blonde brat. “Malfoy!” Harry violently shook him, “Malfoy!”

The rainy clouds once again filled the night sky. Raindrops poured down on top of the young men, washing the blood from Draco’s face. Harry stared down at his hands in disbelief, as the rain washed the blood from them. Harry stood up and angrily kicked the trash can beside him. Trash flew all over the alley floor. Draco laid unconscious on the cold, wet surface of the alley while Harry pondered about his enemy's fate.

A few hours later, the rain was still pounding on the rooftops of the small town. Draco didn’t want to open his eyes and abandon the darkness, which was his only comfort in these sinister times. He moved only his palms, observing the strange surface he rested on. Draco felt his body lying on something soft and cushy.  A long cloth was spread over his body, returning the warmth back to his blood. He sighed in relief and lazily opened his eyes. He noticed a blurry figure in front of him, blinked couple of times and everything came into focus. Draco could finally see Harry, pointing a wand straight at him.

“P-P-Potter?” Draco stuttered, trying to get out of bed.

“Don’t you fucking move.” Harry jabbed the tip to Draco’s nose. “If you move one inch, I will blast your tiny little brains right out of your thick skull. That’s if you were born with a brain.”

During this horrendous ordeal, Draco couldn’t believe Harry had time to insult his intelligence. He stared at Harry, jabbing the wand harder on his nose with a murderous in glint his eyes. It was obvious that Draco had to agree with Harry’s commands. He had already been on the wrong side of Harry’s wand before and he didn’t want his brains splattered all over the wall. Draco slowly nodded his head, still staring at the wand.

“Now, tell me where Snape is hiding?” Harry firmly questioned, his voice boiling with rage.

“I don’t know,” Draco hoarsely said, getting punched again.

Harry was getting angrier with each passing second, “Tell me where that murderous bastard is hiding?”

“I've already told you that I don’t know where he is.” Draco replied sharply.

“Wrong answer.” Harry slammed his fist onto Draco’s face, “You stupid Slytherins, always looking after one’s arses.”

“HA! You, of all people, should know that Slytherins are the most egoistic  people of the entire Wizarding world.” Draco spat out.

“SHUT UP!” Harry’s wand glowed brighter, “That didn’t stop Snape from helping you escape that night.”

Draco closed his mouth before responding back. He had been wondering about that, too.  If Snape wanted all the glory of killing Dumbledore, he would have left him on that tower instead of helping him escape. Draco thought to himself about Snape’s motives to protect him.

“Silence only means that you are hiding something.” Harry interrupted his thoughts.

“Please, Potter, I swear to you that I don’t know where Snape is hiding.” Draco’s eyes began to water, “Please, Potter, I'm begging you.”

“I don’t want to hear any of your pleadings.” Harry grasped some of Draco’s hair and pulled his head back, “You happily ignored his pleadings that night.”

“I swear, Potter,” Draco cried, “I never wanted to kill him. I never wanted to do the Dark Lord’s dirty work.”

Harry stared into a pair of unfamiliar silver-hazel eyes, tears rolling down the side of pale cheeks. He realized those were Draco’s eyes and his tears. He remembered the first time he really saw Draco’s eyes. Harry had walked in on Draco crying in the bathroom to Moaning Myrtle. Those were the eyes that revealed the true Draco. He shook that memory out of his mind and pulled Malfoy's hair harder, “I don’t believe a word that comes out of that hole you call a mouth.”

“Please, let me explain.” Draco cried out. Harry’s wand was burning in his hand. He had been waiting all summer and all these years to give what Draco deserved, but then Draco spoke those very words that he dreaded to hear. “I don’t think Professor Dumbledore would have wanted you acting in this particular manner.”

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Harry angrily snapped at him, but somehow he knew that Draco was right. Professor Dumbledore, may he rest in peace, would never want him to seek revenge with murderous intents in his heart. Harry lowered his wand, releasing Draco’s hair from his grip. “You have five minutes and then I'll throw you back out into the streets, like a filthy rat.”

Draco nodded in agreement, trying to sit up straight, but his bruises and bones ached. He finally found a comfortable spot. “After the Death Eaters and I fled from Hogwarts, we were supposed to go back to the Dark Lord’s hideout, but we Apparated in a dark forest. They formed a circle around me and just stared at me from behind their masks. I was going to open my mouth to speak, but one of them pushed me on the ground. They all started to laugh and taunt me. I shouted at them to stop and reminded them who my father was, but they didn’t listen.”

“So, what happened next?” Harry calmly asked.

“They all took turns in beating and kicking me. I tried to fight back, but one of them took my wand and broke it in half.” Draco cried, “I lost consciousness and when I woke up they were gone.” He wiped his tears, “I guess they reported back to the Dark Lord, telling him that my carcass laid rotting in some unknown forest, where no one could ever find me. ”

“How did you make it out… alive? Since you are solely dependent on magic.” Harry interrupted again.

“It’s a good thing I paid attention in Herbology and Potion’s class.” Draco said, giving Harry a one sided smirk. Harry rolled his eyes at the thought of Snape’s lessons, saving one’s life.

“I was able to use some plants in the forest to heal some of my wounds from getting infected.” He opened his shirt and revealed dried green substance on his open cut wounds. “I couldn’t go back home, knowing my mother will act a fool and tell Aunt Bellatrix that I am still alive.” Draco wiped his tears with the dirty long sleeve of his shirt.

Harry’s mind opened to the possibility that Draco might, for once, be telling the truth, but he was not going to trust him that easily. Harry noticed old unattended wounds and the fresh ones he gave Draco, all over his face and peeking through his open shirt. Draco’s once groomed, combed back hair was now a tangle of long dirty-blond mess full of dried mud and leaves. Harry also smelled something horrible, possibly coming from Draco. He felt a bit of pity towards his enemy.

Harry walked into the bathroom and snatched one of the towels from the rack. “I can’t believe I'm doing this.” Harry gripped the towel tightly in his hands and stared up at the ceiling, “I am only doing this for you.”

Harry came out of the bathroom and tossed the towel at Draco, hitting him in the face. “Go and get clean up,” Harry said with a discontented look.

Draco stared down at the towel with confusion in his eyes. “I thought you were-”

“Well, I changed my mind, besides I can’t stand the stench that is radiating from you. Much more horrible than the usual toxic you sprayed around you at school.” Harry stated, pulling on his jacket.

Harry's hand slipped inside one of the jacket's pockets and took out a plastic wrapped sandwich. He was saving it for departure tomorrow.

“You can eat this after you've taken a shower.” Harry said and placed the sandwich on the nightstand.

Draco stared in astonishment as Harry walked out the door. He thought Harry would had enjoyed seeing him in this state of filth, looking like a ragged, helpless house-elf. He didn't really like taking orders from a Gryffindor, but if it prevented him from sleeping in dirty alleys and getting caught by the Death Eaters, he'll follow his enemy's commands.

Draco staggered into the bathroom, leaning on the door for support. He turned on the water, as he struggled to get into the shower. The warm water stung his wounds, washing away all the dirt and dried blood, calming each aching muscle. After his soothing shower, Draco found a pair of pale gray and green pajamas on the towel rack. He wondered where the pajamas appeared from. He didn't notice them there before when he hung his towel. Harry must had come back, but he didn't hear anyone in the next room and just shrugged it off.

Draco stared himself in the mirror, wiping away the condensation. “Wow, seemed like a thousand hippogriffs danced all over my face.” He said to himself while caressing his face. “A good potion will fix this horrific face right up, but I doubt there's a wizardry store near this rigid muggle town.”

Draco stepped out the bathroom, wearing the mysterious pajamas. He remembered the sandwich, Harry left on the nightstand. The sandwich didn't look too appetizing for him. It was smooched in half and some of the condiments were bursting out of the plastic wrapper. Draco's stomach was growling loudly and it had a been long time since he tasted real food. He quickly unwrapped the sandwich and took a big bite out of it. This was Draco's first night without fighting with the alley cats for scraps of food in the dumpsters.

Upon returning, Harry found an empty sandwich wrap and Draco, sleeping on the only bed in the room. “You are still a spoiled little Slytherin.” Harry sighed in frustration, slamming Mrs. Grey's first aid kit at the foot of the bed.

Then he saw Draco shutter violently and curl up like a frighten child scared of the dark. Draco had a panicked expression on his face. Harry stared helplessly, knowing that he couldn't make Draco's nightmare go away. He pulled the rest of the comforter over him, unknowingly, reaching up to brush away some strains of Draco's hair. Harry thought Draco's blond hair seemed much longer, giving him a resemblance to his father.

Draco rolled over on his back and smiled. Harry quickly stepped away from the bed and stared at his hand. He couldn't believe he touched the person he hated so much. All he needed was to get a good night's rest to throw Draco out of his mind. Harry took out a spare blanket from the closet and sat down in the wooden armchair near the fireplace.

“Spoiled little bastard.” Harry grunted under his breath, trying to make himself comfortable.

TBC