Fic: The Black Mirror
Jul. 27th, 2010 03:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dripping_cherryTitle: The Black Mirror 1/36
Author: Maxine
Translator:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
drippingcherry
Link to German original: here
Wordcount: ~2,200
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R/NC-17
Timeline: 6 years post-Hogwarts (begun in 2004, so not compliant with HBP or DH)
Warnings: Rape/non-con, dark themes, violence, angst.
Summary: “When will you be able to look in the mirror again, and not feel guilt?” – “Not until you can look me in the eyes without fear.”
Translator's note: This is one of my all-time favorite H/D fics, and I'm happy to be able to share it with you. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did. The author and I appreciate your feedback.
***
Black mirror,
I no longer recognize myself in you.
All I see is his eyes,
through which I can glimpse
into the depths of his soul.
They reflect the horror
that he suffered because of me.
And I burn
in the purgatory of guilt.
***
“The question isn’t whether I can forgive you,
but whether you can forgive yourself.”
The Black Mirror
It was unbearably hot. The tight fabric of his Auror uniform clung to his body as he fought his way through the thicket. Twigs lashed at his face and left bloody stripes on his cheeks. His wheezing breath and the sound of branches breaking beneath his feet sounded unnaturally loud in the silence of the Forbidden Forest.
Barely any moonlight passed through the dense forest canopy. He couldn’t see much anyway. It seemed like an eternity since he’d lost his glasses somewhere in the thick underwood. For a moment, a feeling of utter helplessness had rolled over him, and he had almost given up. But in a last act of desperation, he had suppressed his panic and continued running.
He didn’t know where he was running to. He had lost his sense of direction a long while ago. He cast a quick look over his shoulder to check if they were still following him. Although he saw nothing but blurred darkness, he could feel their presence. They were there, and they were catching up. Slowly and steadily.
He resisted the urge to turn around and cast a few curses into that terrible, all-consuming darkness. He knew all too well that it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Maybe, if luck was on his side, he would get one of them. But doing so would only point them in his direction. He thought he heard quiet laughter, as if it were affirming his thoughts. Yet he could not tell which direction it came from.
As he picked up his pace again, the fear for Ginny and Terry’s safety, which he had so far been able to push to the back of his mind, resurfaced. He prayed in earnest that both of the other Aurors on his team, who had accompanied him on this mission, had made it back safely. Maybe they would be able to get help, should he fall into the hands of the Death Eaters. He knew that he couldn’t avert the inevitable. He could only draw it out. It was almost like a game. It was a horrible game they were playing with him, chasing him through the Forbidden Forest like a predator hunting its prey.
Suddenly, he stopped short and squinted. A light seemed to be shining through the shrubbery, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Had he already made it to the edge of the forest? Was the light was coming from Hagrid’s hut?
It was only a few steps away. A spark of hope rose inside him. Was he only seconds away from safety? Or was it…?
He didn’t get to complete the thought. A hex struck him hard on the back and knocked him to the ground. He never even felt the impact.
*****
He regained consciousness to find every bone in his body aching. He was sitting on the ground, his back leaning against a wall. His hands were bound. It smelled musty. Cold wetness hung in the air and seeped through to his very bones. Blinking, he opened his eyes and tried to identify his surroundings.
The room in which he found himself was small and illuminated by the soft light of a lantern. It took him a moment to become accustomed to the brightness, and a while longer to reach the painful realization that he hadn’t landed in Hagrid’s hut.
They’d hauled him to an old chapel in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. Only the stone altar appeared to have survived the ravages of time. Everything else was weathered. Water dripped quietly from the walls.
His pursuers were there. At first, only an ill-defined, threatening black mass that quietly came upon him. Then, gradually, their faces began to assume features. They weren’t wearing hoods. He recognized only four of them.
Antonin Dolohov. Augustus Rookwood. He had seen their pictures in the newspapers often since their escape from Azkaban. Their features seemed to have burned themselves into his memory.
Thomas Avery. Timothy Nott. Their mouths twisted into derisive grins. Their faces almost like masks.
“It looks like a very special fish has got caught in our net this time,” Avery said cynically as he took another step towards him. “Welcome to hell, Harry Potter.”
It wasn’t easy to stand up with aching limbs and his hands tied behind his back. Only on the second try did it work. They didn’t attempt to stop him, preferring to watch silently as he struggled. Shivering, he pressed himself back against the wall and looked past Avery to the door, where another Death Eater had just emerged. He was younger than the others. Damp, blond strands clung to his forehead. Harry felt something tighten inside him. He held the blank, emotionless gaze of those grey eyes for only a few seconds before turning his head. He couldn’t let them notice anything. He couldn’t betray Malfoy.
Harry had never questioned that Draco Malfoy would someday join Voldemort. His path as a Death Eater seemed to have been laid out before him. But then the day had come when Harry’s view of the world had begun to waver. The fact that the former Slytherin, following the as-of-yet unexplained death of his father, had switched sides and begun working as a spy for Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix had thrown Harry completely off course. Malfoy didn’t talk much when they met at the Order’s headquarters, which was seldom enough. They had both grown up, and yet not much had changed between them since they had graduated from Hogwarts. They could not overcome their old animosity as much as the distrust that hung between them. Harry had often asked himself why Dumbledore was so sure that Malfoy could really be trusted. Because there was no question that the Headmaster trusted him.
“What are you going to do to me?” With effort, he managed to keep his voice from trembling. He couldn’t let them know that he was gripped by fear. He wouldn’t beg for mercy, that much was certain.
“What are we going to do to you?” Rookwood grinned sadistically. His disparaging, slightly feverish gaze slid down Harry’s body. “We will take our revenge— for you and the Order always managing to thwart the Dark Lord’s plans.” His smile faded. Hatred blazed in his eyes.
Harry took in the sight of Rookwood’s repulsive, pox-scarred face with a feigned calmness that was difficult to uphold. A few days earlier, Voldemort had been forced to endure bitter defeat against Dumbledore and the Members of the Order. The battle had taken place in the Forbidden Forest. Ginny, Terry, and he had been sent back to search for tracks.
“Are you going to kill me?” Harry was surprised that he had managed to remain composed as the question left his lips. The mustiness of the chapel was nauseating.
“You can be sure of that,” Dolohov said in a voice that resonated with dark amusement. His skin was as sallow as a corpse’s. “But before we get to that, I have a different sort of entertainment in mind…” His stinking breath grazed Harry’s face, whereupon he closed his eyes in disgust.
“Undress him!” Dolohov barked.
Harry felt as if someone had stepped on his stomach. Dolohov’s laugh sounded diabolical, and in his eyes lay unconcealed lust. The other Death Eaters laughed softly. Horror flooded over Harry like a cold wave. He couldn’t do anything to stop it.
*****
Fuck, fuck, fuck! His expression may have appeared emotionless, but inside Draco was in a state of turmoil. He’d been wracking his brains for minutes now, but still he couldn’t figure out a way to get Potter of this unpleasant situation without blowing his cover, which would mean certain death. Why had Fudge sent the three young Aurors out into the Forbidden Forest alone? That man was incompetence personified. A weakened Dark Lord did not make the other Death Eaters any less dangerous.
He could see the fear on Potter’s face, even though the other man tried to hide it. That striking face suddenly looked so vulnerable without its glasses. Draco felt something akin to pity stir inside him. Granted, he had wished the plague on Harry many times in the past. But to be raped by several Death Eaters—that he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy. He shuddered, remembering that Death Eaters didn’t play nice with their victims.
As Draco continued to think feverishly, Timothy Nott robbed Harry of his clothing with a casual wave of his wand and a cold laugh. Draco blinked repeatedly— he didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to add to Potter’s humiliation. Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the breathtaking sight of that naked body.
Potter may have been small and scrawny back in school, but now the rigorous physical training of the Auror Academy was apparent in the well-built form of the man standing before him. The coldness of the chapel had raised the fine hairs covering his skin. Draco licked his lips. He felt the burning need to touch that skin rise inside him. His fingers prickled. He could hardly retain his sanity. He wanted Harry, had always wanted him. The striking sight before his eyes made him realize that he could no longer deny it.
Harry held his head straight and didn’t let his adversaries out of his sight for one second. Even under the present circumstances, he still managed to preserve his remaining dignity. Draco couldn’t help but admire him for it.
“Is that all you’ve got?” The former Gryffindor’s voice sounded cool and controlled. Apparently, he didn’t want to make things too easy for them. He wanted to prove that he wouldn’t be broken that easily.
The corners of Rookwood’s mouth curved upwards in amusement. “That was only the beginning,” he chortled. “Now, you have to choose.”
“Choose what?” Harry asked.
The Death Eater with the pox-scarred face came up very close to Harry and stroked his bare chest almost gently. Harry drew back against the damp wall. His lips quivered slightly, and his eyes were wide. Draco felt a surge of rage inside him, but he forced himself to stay calm. There was nothing he could do for Potter at the moment.
Rookwood’s eyes flashed with pleasure. “You may choose, which one of us gets to take you,” he whispered in his ear. “And the others will watch.”
Draco saw Harry become a hint paler than he had already been. He began to tremble slightly, although his posture remained remarkably straight. He looked from one of them to another, meeting Draco’s gaze for a second. Not a sound escaped his lips. Apparently, Rookwood’s pronouncement had rendered him incapable of speech.
“Choose quickly, handsome. Or else we’ll take turns with you.”
Cold laughter filled the small room and echoed off the stone walls. Draco could see the horror flare in Harry’s eyes, and the sight brought a stab pain to his gut. The seconds stretched on. Harry cleared his throat, but his answer was nothing more than a quiet murmur.
“You’ll have to speak more clearly, or we won’t be able to understand you.” Rookwood was clearly enjoying himself. Draco cursed him silently.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I choose Malfoy,” he said loudly, and looked away. His cheeks were flushed.
A quiet muttering rose among the Death Eaters. Rookwood gave a nasty laugh.
Draco stood petrified with horror. His heart was racing. He felt as if someone had pulled the ground from beneath his feet. Everything began to sway. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from whirling inside his head. He hardly noticed that the other Death Eaters were watching him expectantly.
“An excellent choice,” said Dolohov, grinning. “It’s about time that the boy acquired some… practical experience.” He clapped Draco encouragingly on the shoulder, and Draco tensed. “Just don’t be too gentle with him!” Dolohov added.
Draco’s mouth felt dry, as if he hadn’t drunk anything in days. There was no escaping this, either for him, or for Potter. He swallowed repeatedly as he stepped out of the half circle of Death Eaters and approached Harry with trembling knees. He tried to look only at the other man’s face. Panic flickered in Harry’s eyes.
Chapter 2
Author: Maxine
Translator:
drippingcherryLink to German original: here
Wordcount: ~2,200
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R/NC-17
Timeline: 6 years post-Hogwarts (begun in 2004, so not compliant with HBP or DH)
Warnings: Rape/non-con, dark themes, violence, angst.
Summary: “When will you be able to look in the mirror again, and not feel guilt?” – “Not until you can look me in the eyes without fear.”
Translator's note: This is one of my all-time favorite H/D fics, and I'm happy to be able to share it with you. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did. The author and I appreciate your feedback.
Black mirror,
I no longer recognize myself in you.
All I see is his eyes,
through which I can glimpse
into the depths of his soul.
They reflect the horror
that he suffered because of me.
And I burn
in the purgatory of guilt.
***
“The question isn’t whether I can forgive you,
but whether you can forgive yourself.”
The Black Mirror
It was unbearably hot. The tight fabric of his Auror uniform clung to his body as he fought his way through the thicket. Twigs lashed at his face and left bloody stripes on his cheeks. His wheezing breath and the sound of branches breaking beneath his feet sounded unnaturally loud in the silence of the Forbidden Forest.
Barely any moonlight passed through the dense forest canopy. He couldn’t see much anyway. It seemed like an eternity since he’d lost his glasses somewhere in the thick underwood. For a moment, a feeling of utter helplessness had rolled over him, and he had almost given up. But in a last act of desperation, he had suppressed his panic and continued running.
He didn’t know where he was running to. He had lost his sense of direction a long while ago. He cast a quick look over his shoulder to check if they were still following him. Although he saw nothing but blurred darkness, he could feel their presence. They were there, and they were catching up. Slowly and steadily.
He resisted the urge to turn around and cast a few curses into that terrible, all-consuming darkness. He knew all too well that it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Maybe, if luck was on his side, he would get one of them. But doing so would only point them in his direction. He thought he heard quiet laughter, as if it were affirming his thoughts. Yet he could not tell which direction it came from.
As he picked up his pace again, the fear for Ginny and Terry’s safety, which he had so far been able to push to the back of his mind, resurfaced. He prayed in earnest that both of the other Aurors on his team, who had accompanied him on this mission, had made it back safely. Maybe they would be able to get help, should he fall into the hands of the Death Eaters. He knew that he couldn’t avert the inevitable. He could only draw it out. It was almost like a game. It was a horrible game they were playing with him, chasing him through the Forbidden Forest like a predator hunting its prey.
Suddenly, he stopped short and squinted. A light seemed to be shining through the shrubbery, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Had he already made it to the edge of the forest? Was the light was coming from Hagrid’s hut?
It was only a few steps away. A spark of hope rose inside him. Was he only seconds away from safety? Or was it…?
He didn’t get to complete the thought. A hex struck him hard on the back and knocked him to the ground. He never even felt the impact.
*****
He regained consciousness to find every bone in his body aching. He was sitting on the ground, his back leaning against a wall. His hands were bound. It smelled musty. Cold wetness hung in the air and seeped through to his very bones. Blinking, he opened his eyes and tried to identify his surroundings.
The room in which he found himself was small and illuminated by the soft light of a lantern. It took him a moment to become accustomed to the brightness, and a while longer to reach the painful realization that he hadn’t landed in Hagrid’s hut.
They’d hauled him to an old chapel in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. Only the stone altar appeared to have survived the ravages of time. Everything else was weathered. Water dripped quietly from the walls.
His pursuers were there. At first, only an ill-defined, threatening black mass that quietly came upon him. Then, gradually, their faces began to assume features. They weren’t wearing hoods. He recognized only four of them.
Antonin Dolohov. Augustus Rookwood. He had seen their pictures in the newspapers often since their escape from Azkaban. Their features seemed to have burned themselves into his memory.
Thomas Avery. Timothy Nott. Their mouths twisted into derisive grins. Their faces almost like masks.
“It looks like a very special fish has got caught in our net this time,” Avery said cynically as he took another step towards him. “Welcome to hell, Harry Potter.”
It wasn’t easy to stand up with aching limbs and his hands tied behind his back. Only on the second try did it work. They didn’t attempt to stop him, preferring to watch silently as he struggled. Shivering, he pressed himself back against the wall and looked past Avery to the door, where another Death Eater had just emerged. He was younger than the others. Damp, blond strands clung to his forehead. Harry felt something tighten inside him. He held the blank, emotionless gaze of those grey eyes for only a few seconds before turning his head. He couldn’t let them notice anything. He couldn’t betray Malfoy.
Harry had never questioned that Draco Malfoy would someday join Voldemort. His path as a Death Eater seemed to have been laid out before him. But then the day had come when Harry’s view of the world had begun to waver. The fact that the former Slytherin, following the as-of-yet unexplained death of his father, had switched sides and begun working as a spy for Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix had thrown Harry completely off course. Malfoy didn’t talk much when they met at the Order’s headquarters, which was seldom enough. They had both grown up, and yet not much had changed between them since they had graduated from Hogwarts. They could not overcome their old animosity as much as the distrust that hung between them. Harry had often asked himself why Dumbledore was so sure that Malfoy could really be trusted. Because there was no question that the Headmaster trusted him.
“What are you going to do to me?” With effort, he managed to keep his voice from trembling. He couldn’t let them know that he was gripped by fear. He wouldn’t beg for mercy, that much was certain.
“What are we going to do to you?” Rookwood grinned sadistically. His disparaging, slightly feverish gaze slid down Harry’s body. “We will take our revenge— for you and the Order always managing to thwart the Dark Lord’s plans.” His smile faded. Hatred blazed in his eyes.
Harry took in the sight of Rookwood’s repulsive, pox-scarred face with a feigned calmness that was difficult to uphold. A few days earlier, Voldemort had been forced to endure bitter defeat against Dumbledore and the Members of the Order. The battle had taken place in the Forbidden Forest. Ginny, Terry, and he had been sent back to search for tracks.
“Are you going to kill me?” Harry was surprised that he had managed to remain composed as the question left his lips. The mustiness of the chapel was nauseating.
“You can be sure of that,” Dolohov said in a voice that resonated with dark amusement. His skin was as sallow as a corpse’s. “But before we get to that, I have a different sort of entertainment in mind…” His stinking breath grazed Harry’s face, whereupon he closed his eyes in disgust.
“Undress him!” Dolohov barked.
Harry felt as if someone had stepped on his stomach. Dolohov’s laugh sounded diabolical, and in his eyes lay unconcealed lust. The other Death Eaters laughed softly. Horror flooded over Harry like a cold wave. He couldn’t do anything to stop it.
*****
Fuck, fuck, fuck! His expression may have appeared emotionless, but inside Draco was in a state of turmoil. He’d been wracking his brains for minutes now, but still he couldn’t figure out a way to get Potter of this unpleasant situation without blowing his cover, which would mean certain death. Why had Fudge sent the three young Aurors out into the Forbidden Forest alone? That man was incompetence personified. A weakened Dark Lord did not make the other Death Eaters any less dangerous.
He could see the fear on Potter’s face, even though the other man tried to hide it. That striking face suddenly looked so vulnerable without its glasses. Draco felt something akin to pity stir inside him. Granted, he had wished the plague on Harry many times in the past. But to be raped by several Death Eaters—that he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy. He shuddered, remembering that Death Eaters didn’t play nice with their victims.
As Draco continued to think feverishly, Timothy Nott robbed Harry of his clothing with a casual wave of his wand and a cold laugh. Draco blinked repeatedly— he didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to add to Potter’s humiliation. Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the breathtaking sight of that naked body.
Potter may have been small and scrawny back in school, but now the rigorous physical training of the Auror Academy was apparent in the well-built form of the man standing before him. The coldness of the chapel had raised the fine hairs covering his skin. Draco licked his lips. He felt the burning need to touch that skin rise inside him. His fingers prickled. He could hardly retain his sanity. He wanted Harry, had always wanted him. The striking sight before his eyes made him realize that he could no longer deny it.
Harry held his head straight and didn’t let his adversaries out of his sight for one second. Even under the present circumstances, he still managed to preserve his remaining dignity. Draco couldn’t help but admire him for it.
“Is that all you’ve got?” The former Gryffindor’s voice sounded cool and controlled. Apparently, he didn’t want to make things too easy for them. He wanted to prove that he wouldn’t be broken that easily.
The corners of Rookwood’s mouth curved upwards in amusement. “That was only the beginning,” he chortled. “Now, you have to choose.”
“Choose what?” Harry asked.
The Death Eater with the pox-scarred face came up very close to Harry and stroked his bare chest almost gently. Harry drew back against the damp wall. His lips quivered slightly, and his eyes were wide. Draco felt a surge of rage inside him, but he forced himself to stay calm. There was nothing he could do for Potter at the moment.
Rookwood’s eyes flashed with pleasure. “You may choose, which one of us gets to take you,” he whispered in his ear. “And the others will watch.”
Draco saw Harry become a hint paler than he had already been. He began to tremble slightly, although his posture remained remarkably straight. He looked from one of them to another, meeting Draco’s gaze for a second. Not a sound escaped his lips. Apparently, Rookwood’s pronouncement had rendered him incapable of speech.
“Choose quickly, handsome. Or else we’ll take turns with you.”
Cold laughter filled the small room and echoed off the stone walls. Draco could see the horror flare in Harry’s eyes, and the sight brought a stab pain to his gut. The seconds stretched on. Harry cleared his throat, but his answer was nothing more than a quiet murmur.
“You’ll have to speak more clearly, or we won’t be able to understand you.” Rookwood was clearly enjoying himself. Draco cursed him silently.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I choose Malfoy,” he said loudly, and looked away. His cheeks were flushed.
A quiet muttering rose among the Death Eaters. Rookwood gave a nasty laugh.
Draco stood petrified with horror. His heart was racing. He felt as if someone had pulled the ground from beneath his feet. Everything began to sway. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from whirling inside his head. He hardly noticed that the other Death Eaters were watching him expectantly.
“An excellent choice,” said Dolohov, grinning. “It’s about time that the boy acquired some… practical experience.” He clapped Draco encouragingly on the shoulder, and Draco tensed. “Just don’t be too gentle with him!” Dolohov added.
Draco’s mouth felt dry, as if he hadn’t drunk anything in days. There was no escaping this, either for him, or for Potter. He swallowed repeatedly as he stepped out of the half circle of Death Eaters and approached Harry with trembling knees. He tried to look only at the other man’s face. Panic flickered in Harry’s eyes.
Chapter 2
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 10:09 am (UTC)For some reason it's driving me nuts. Sorry for being so anal-attentive? ^^"
no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 12:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 10:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 12:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 12:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 07:10 pm (UTC)Ich glaube ich habe die Story schon auf deutsch gelesen...mir kommt das Kapitel so bekannt vor, dass es wahrscheinlich kein Zufall ist :)
Aber ich lese auf fanfiktion.de schon lange kein HP mehr, nur noch Originale.
Jedenfalls bin ich über dein Journal gestolpert, weil ich angefangen habe Shaken and Stirred zu lesen und ich finde es super. Und dann hab ich gleich auch noch deine fic von smoochfest gelesen, und weil die mir auch gefallen hat, füge ich dich jetzt als Freund hinzu!
Hoffe das ist ok, ich bin auch ganz lieb! :D
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 03:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 08:40 pm (UTC)I'm curious to see how dark and graphic the next chapter will be since it will definitely set the tone for the rest of the story. There are so many things that could happen and so many things that could go wrong. Draco dear, what ARE you going to do?
I'm looking forward to this story! Thanks for your hard work!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 03:45 am (UTC)*luvs you*
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 06:33 pm (UTC)Fanfiction has made me so desensitized to things I should find disturbing like non-con. I really don't know what to make of it.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 06:42 pm (UTC)Fanfiction has made me so desensitized to things I should find disturbing like non-con. I really don't know what to make of it.
Same here.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 04:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 03:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 03:50 am (UTC)Yes, the story is complete. I'll be updating at least once a week, twice if I can.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 10:54 pm (UTC)this is definitely the first time that i've read something like this.. :)
no subject
Date: 2010-07-29 01:16 am (UTC)