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Title:The One Unconquered
Author: [livejournal.com profile] nicevenn
Rating:NC-17
Pairing:Harry/Draco
Beta/Brit-pick: [livejournal.com profile] nursedarry
Wordcount: 1.2 k
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: angst, rough oral
Summary: They say that pride is the worst of the Seven Deadly Sins.
A/N: This was written for [livejournal.com profile] kayoko in exchange for her charity V-gift. She said she would like to see a fic inspired by the Seven Sins. Er… happy holidays, [livejournal.com profile] kayoko ? I'm still offering charity fics. For more info, see this post.




I. Avaritia


"Draco, will you marry me?"

Harry opened the lid of the small box he had "found" while decorating the Christmas tree and looked up at Draco. His eyes were greener than the conifer behind him, and full of hope.

For the briefest of moments, Draco felt like he was the happiest man alive. Then he looked back down at the mahogany box in Harry's hands, and his face fell. Its lining didn't bear the gold initials of the wizarding world's most prestigious jeweler.

Harry drew his lower lip between his teeth as the seconds on the grandfather clock ticked by. "Draco?"

The ring itself was perfect. A platinum band accented with a single diamond and engraved with the phrase Omnia vincit Amor in elegant letters.

"Yes." Draco smiled and extended his hand, silently cursing himself for the pang of disappointment he felt as Harry slid the ring onto his finger.



II. Gula


"More?"

"Yeah."

Harry's hand shook as he poured Draco another glass of wine, and some of the liquid spilled onto the tablecloth. He didn't apologise or even curse. The elves would get the burgundy stain out. And if they didn't, well – the Malfoys could afford a new tablecloth.

Harry felt his limbs getting heavier and heavier. His head was spinning just a little, but he had made it through Christmas dinner at Malfoy Manor. It was a necessary sacrifice after Draco had joined him at the Burrow on Christmas Eve.

Draco leaned forward and helped himself to more pudding. Harry watched him close his lips around his spoon and hoped that when dinner was over Draco would still have room for a mouthful of come.



III. Luxuria


Draco gave amazing head.
Harry couldn't imagine a more sensuous mouth to have around his cock at the end of the day. Usually he would lie back and allow Draco to do as he pleased, but now, his body buzzing from one too many glasses of wine, he found that he did not possess his usual degree of self-restraint.

As the pressure began to build, Harry grabbed fistfuls of Draco's hair and began to thrust, forcing his cock in deeper each time. He knew Draco didn't enjoy deep-throating, but he was only seconds from coming and it was impossible to hold back when his blood felt so hot in his veins.

He pushed forward one last time, burying himself to the balls in Draco's mouth, and held Draco's head in place as his orgasm ripped through him. Fingernails dug into the backs of his thighs, but he welcomed the pain. There was no way he could pull out now, when his cock was pulsing deep in the other man's throat. Just a few more seconds, he thought.



IV. Invidia


"I heard Williamson's going to be the new Head Auror."

Draco couldn't keep the bitterness out of his tone. Ever since he had heard about Robards' upcoming retirement, he'd been hoping Harry would be the one chosen to succeed him. With their wedding only months away, such a promotion would have rounded things off nicely.

Harry gave a slow nod. "He deserves it."

Draco's hands curled into fists at his sides. "Right, because the bloody Saviour of the Wizarding World doesn't." He started at the sound of Harry's mug being slammed down on the table.

"We're not having this conversation again, Draco. I've no ambitions of becoming the next Head Auror. Sorry to disappoint you." With that, Harry pushed back his chair and stormed out of the kitchen.



V. Acedia


"You missed work again?" Draco asked as took in the mess in the sitting room. The low table was covered with plates, half-empty teacups, a whisky glass, and a bottle of Ogden's Old.

Harry didn't even bother too look at Draco. "What's it look like?"

"Did you at least send an owl this time?"
After a long moment, Harry shook his head.

Draco sighed and dropped down on the sofa beside him. "Harry, if you keep this up, they're going to let you go. They already transferred your last case over to…"

"I don't care if they let me go, Draco," Harry interrupted. "I've done my service to the wizarding world."

Draco knew better than to ask if Harry intended on spending the rest of his life on the sofa, drinking.



VI. Ira


"Why does everything always have to be about you?"

Harry ignored the question and continued to stare out the window, knowing that if he turned around and saw the frustration in Draco's face, he'd only lose his temper more quickly.

"We're engaged, remember?" Draco continued, shouting at Harry's back. "Your actions affect me, too. Unlike you, I care about my career."

Slowly, Harry turned around. "So you're saying I'm making you look bad?"

Draco's mouth tightened into a thin line, but he said nothing.

Something burst inside Harry then, and anger flared up inside him like Fiendfyre.

"Go ahead and leave me, then, if you think I'm not good enough for you," he said, advancing on Draco. "Just don't forget who got you that bloody position at the Ministry." His tone turned more acidic with every word. "Do you think Shacklebolt would have hired you if I hadn't given him my word that he could trust you? All he would have seen is a former Death Eater who got off too easily. Because that's all you are. You'd be lucky to be stacking books at Flourish and Blott's if it weren't for me."

By the time Harry ended his tirade Draco's eyes had begun to shine. Harry felt his knees begin to tremble; he was afraid he'd said too much. But there was no taking it back now.

Draco's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. They stared at each other for a few agonizing seconds, and then Draco turned on his heel and left.

Harry sank down in the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands.



VII. Superbia


"I didn't mean it," Harry said softly.

"You didn't mean to say it." Draco corrected him.

The moment Draco had made the decision to break it off, he'd felt icy-cold fingers wrap themselves around his heart. They'd remained there ever since, loosening their grip whenever he entertained the thought of forgiving Harry, and tightening whenever he took any action towards going through with his decision. At the moment, they were so tight he could barely breathe.

Harry looked deep into his eyes. "I don't care what others think of you, Draco. I love you. That's all that matters."

Maybe that was all that should matter, but Draco knew he couldn't stand living with a man who thought he was better than him. Even if it was the truth. Even if that man loved him despite his past.

"Just go," Draco said, and the cold fingers clenched his heart even tighter. He pulled the ring Harry had given him off his finger and held it out. "And take this."

"I don't want it," Harry said. "It would only remind me that what it says isn't true." He gave Draco a sad, lingering smile and Apparated away.

As soon as Harry was gone, Draco sank to the floor where he stood and let the tears fall.

The End.
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