Pairings: Usual- Harry/Draco, Sirius/Remus, this sort of has some Remus/Severus.

Rating: NC17. Usual, rape, angst etc. This one also has a bit of bondage ;-).

Dedicated to Underneath Society- for an amazing review of this fic that put a ridiculous grin on my face for days.

Major Spoilers for Prisoner of Azkaban. (Though I’m assuming you’ve read all four books, thought I’d better write that, just in case J )

Author’s Notes:  
 

Prologue.

Twenty Years Earlier…

"Snape!"

The ruler crashed down onto the desk with a resounding thump that caused the two occupants to jerk in shock. Severus looked up to a pair of amused green eyes staring back.

"I doubt watching Mr. Lupin or Mr. Black work will help you with your potions any more than watching your hapless partner Mr. Malfoy."

The dark haired boy clenched his jaw, in a common tact he used to keep his temper at bay. His eyes, however, would always betray him. The almost black orbs conveyed the utmost loathing at the rather squat Potions Master Romero.

"Five points off Slytherin for your lack of concentration."

Snape’s knuckles turned white from the tightness of his grip on the Nectarus Root he held. He barely realized that the steam rising from the boiling pot was scolding the tender flesh on his wrist, so intent was he on the Gryffindor teacher. For whatever reason, Professor Romero had taken an instant dislike to him as soon as he stepped into his class seven years before at the mere age of eleven. Since then, the favoritism of Gryffindors had soared to unbearable levels, consistent with the beratement of Slytherins, Snape at the top of that particular hierarchy. The teacher continued to glare at him a moment, then moved on. Snape recognized the pain shooting up his wrist and moved his hand away from the cauldron. Lucius glared moodily at him, eyes boring into him. Snape refused to look at him. He was aware he would receive a verbal lashing from the man later. Like his son, Lucius liked to give out, but not take, trouble. A single tarnish on his pristine and shiny self adulation and ego was not to be tolerated. Snape guessed his particular anger at the situation arose because he had been humiliated in front of Narcissa, a pretty blonde he had been trying to impress for months.

"Very good, Remus." The teacher was at HIS table, pouring over him like some lecherous old ding bat. Snape stiffened, his jaw clenching so hard it trembled.

He risked a glance to the table a few rows back, to the God, wearing muggle clothes; jeans and a white T-shirt, his robes slung loosely over so they showed in crumpled patches. Why didn’t he ever have points taken off for not obeying school code?

Or for mere murder by fashion for anyone who saw the hideousness of his clothes, Lucius had once mocked, loud enough for Black to hear and much to the delight of fellow Slytherins.

The God was currently smiling rather worshipfully at HIM, who nodded curtly at the tutor. Romero suddenly twirled around to face the rest of the class.

"Everybody." He seized the beaker on Lupin’s desk, holding deep purple viscous. "This is the colour of your Repardam Potion. Not…" He looked straight at Snape and Lucius, who stared back with venom and scowled into their own beaker respectively. "Bright blue."

The God’s lips curved up into a smile and he raised a brow at the two Slytherins. HE caught Snape’s eyes, the sympathy in those warm brown orbs enough to make the dark haired man want to rush over there and slam him down onto the desk.

Yes, his mind began to wander. Slam him down. Wonder how Black would feel if I started to ravish his lover right there on the table?

Lupin looked away but Snape continued to stare.

Wonder what his mouth would taste like. Better yet, his flesh. Looks so soft. Wonder what it would be like to reach up under those robes-

The ruler slammed down a second time, a sound Snape barely heard in his intense thoughts. Remus caught his eyes once more, perfect brows furrowed a little.

"SNAPE!"

Severus let his eyes casually drift over to Professor in a careless attitude.

Yes, yes. Five points off Slytherin. Oh and detention too? I never would have guessed.

He waited until the professor had finished yelling, then turned to blatantly stare at the Gryffindor once more.
 
 

The wolf whistle rang out loudly through the crowded hall. Snape inwardly cringed but kept a stoic display. For not the first time, he wondered why he was with this man. Lucius passed both a disgusted look and hurried forward, having spied Narcissa ahead gossiping with friends as she sped down the corridor.

"Looking good there, Lupin." Crispin’s piggy eyes followed the backside of the rapidly moving student, stiffened back a sign that he had heard the man. For whatever reason, he was alone, which meant he was subject for Crispin’s often rather sickening remarks. The rather pudgy boy dared not to harass him in front of the other Marauders. But, if he was alone, he was a definite target. Though Snape’s fantasies invariably involved the Gryffindor, he was not apt to reveal his feelings in any way but for the constant staring he seemed unable not to do.

Not that he suspected Crispin capable of love-

Love? Where did that come from?

Snape cleared his throat to admonish him. Did not Crispin realize he was simply embarrassing himself? Snape would never stoop so low as to harass Remus in front of the entire school. He had his pride. Though it was tempting.

"I bet you’d be tight, wouldn’t you? Even though Black’s undoubtedly fucked you hundreds of times."

The boy suddenly turned back and stormed towards Crispin, face set in anger, the gold flecks in his eyes standing out in their fury, lending the orbs an odd, almost canine quality, lips pursed. Snape could feel his heart suddenly race through his chest as though it was competing in the Annual Wizard Broom Marathon. An intense energy surged through the Gryffindor, reaching Snape, enchanting him, urging him to want to throw him up on the wall and…

No, take him to a four poster bed with carved gold headboard and hand-woven sheets and make love to him slowly, make love to him for hours, have him reach his peak again and again. Then simply lay with him.

Snape had already worked out what he would say to him. And how Lupin would respond, as he curled the dark haired man to him and stroked his hair softly.

"It’s alright, Severus. You’re here. You’re safe."

You are such a fool, Severus!

Snape gritted his teeth and glared at the tawny haired boy, anger shooting up his ribs from the lovesick feeling generated in his stomach.

"I feel you owe me an apology."

Snape had the distinct impression of a lull in the movement around them. Indeed, a few of the students had stopped in the hall to watch the proceedings. At six foot two, Crispin towered over Remus by a good nine or ten inches and doubled his body size. For a moment, however, Snape had the distinct impression that Remus was somehow overpowering the taller, larger man, such was the power of his rage. The moment was abruptly ended by Crispin’s laughter.

"Whatever for?"

"You made a rather disparaging remark towards me."

Crispin looked to Snape, blue eyes positively livid with merriness. "I was simply pointing out a few facts, hon. Vis a vis the fact that you are the school’s biggest slut."

A subtle flinching of nose was testament to Remus’ anger. "Would you not agree, Snape?"

In that instant, the God stepped out into the hall, carrying books from the library. Spying the commotion ahead, he rushed forward. Snape pushed his turbulent emotions deep inside of him.

"No, I feel ‘whore’ is the correct term, Crispin."

Severus felt a queer sense of victory at the furious and despaired look now on him.

"And I have no time for whores."

Snape hurried away through the students and their kaleidoscope of reactions, ranging from shock and outrage, to bemusement, to indifference. Crispin rushed after him, not before whispering a promise in Remus’ ear that the matter had not yet been settled.
 
 
 
 

"This is most unwelcome news." The old wizard took off his moon glasses and rubbed his eyes, a guesture Snape had not seen in a long time. Twenty years later, Severus felt as though nothing had changed. He had simply gained a few wrinkles and frown lines around his face. Remus was as he remembered him, only more self possessed, if it was possible, and with fine lines around his mouth and eyes now, laugh lines. He recalled the day he had first seen Remus in his new appointment as teacher at Hogwarts. In an echo of their childhood, he could not help but continue to sneak glances at him across the teacher’s table.

Snape detested him so much he felt sick to the stomach every time he saw him.

And now he had humiliation to contend with his already mixed emotions. Dumbledore had insisted on Remus staying to listen to the little conversation between Crispin and Severus, recorded with the Imitus chant, uttered through pursed lips before Snape was apparated with Crispin to the Shrieking Shack. The werewolf had his back to the two men, gripping the edges of the window sill with a tightness that made white his fingers from the effort. Snape, ever the master at not allowing temper to overcome his reason, suffered from his own shaking hands, like a constant DT’s from too much gillywater. This was the result of an adversity to Dumbledore over one to alcohol, however. It was not Lupin’s place to hear such plans, as it had little to do with Draco’s case, in Snape’s opinion.

"I will do my best to keep them protected. You must inform Lucius Malfoy. You are aware of your other, necessary actions."

Snape nodded, dark eyes glittering. Another necessary evil. The thought of being within two feet of the other Death Eaters curled his very stomach, contaminated his skin to the extent the dirt seeped into his body down to his very soul itself. At times, Snape questioned his ever leaving. Things were at least simpler then. One Dark Lord to worship, no questioning morality or ethics. But to be a spy twisted his already knotted soul to the extent that he felt himself lose more of himself with every encounter with the spiteful others.

"I must think this over." The old man finally turned his gaze to Remus, still facing the window. Dumbledore did not need to extract a thought for Severus to know what was on Dumbledore’s mind at that moment.

Proof that it had been Crispin. He had heard it from Snape’s lips, of course, after much cajoling.

Crispin, however, refused to co-operate. As did Remus. With no proof to collaborate that he had even been raped, not even injuries the admittedly genius student had quickly healed after the attack, Dumbledore had no choice but to let it go.

"Would you prepare your Wolfsbane, Severus?"

The Potions Master nodded, allowing a glance back to the straight backed, high shouldered Lupin, before striding out of the room.
 
 

Remus looked to have aged ten years when he stepped into Snape’s dungeon office. Without a word, the Potions Master gestured to a chair and stepped across his worktable to pick up the goblet of liquid from amongst the various ugly and bizarre objects he had picked up in the time he had been at Hogwarts, both as teacher and student. He eyed the man with the sternness of a concerned doctor while he consumed the potion. Though Snape managed professional conduct, his body still responded with simpering lust, by fact of the man alone in the room with him. Lupin took the potion with one gulp, then handed the goblet back to Severus.

Snape cleared his throat. "Don’t excel your already over-inflated arrogance, Lupin. Crispin’s misguided reference to a pathetic childhood ‘crush’ on my part is entirely the result of his overactive imagination."

Lupin closed his eyes a moment. "Yes, of course, Severus."

When he opened them, Snape read absolute disbelief in the goldflecked irises. His hands curled into claws from his attempt to control his impulse to smack the man.

"Oh and by the way…"

Remus stared at the lock of hair so long that Snape began to wonder if he had gone into a shocked trance. He finally released it, the strands fluttering to the floor beneath him. The Potions Master found himself staring at Remus’ hands, amazed by their beauty, the simple elegance of every long finger, the perfect moon shapes of the nails.

Moon. Moony, wasn’t that his nickname?

Yes, Severus had discovered his dirty skeleton in the cupboard. Thanks to Sirius and his little ‘trick’. Severus remembered that all too well.

The werewolf in the Whomping Willow.

Even more vivid was what he had seen a few months before. Remus instantly began to deny that it ever happened. This was despite Crispin still at Hogwarts, still harassing him in the halls, bragging about their ‘little fun’. Remus had simply fobbed it off to the other Marauders as Crispin’s overactive imagination. Snape was certain Lupin had not even told Sirius the full extent as to what happened to him.

No, that’s mine and Remus’ dirty little secret, Snape thought, bitterly. Poor little beautiful werewolf. All out to save everyone else without even saving yourself.

Snape took the chair across from him, noting, with some displeasure, the slight curvedness of the usual erect shoulders, the lowering of the high, proud head.

Yes, that was one thing they shared, Snape conceded, bitterly. Crispin had dirtied them both. Remus’ rape was literal, but Snape considered his own to be on a metaphorical even mental level.

"If you could be thoughtful enough to answer one query for me, Lupin." The teacher moved his tired face up to meet Snape’s eyes. "That night in the Shrieking Shack when Sirius returned, you called my attempted mauling a ‘schoolboy grudge’. I find that rather, let’s say, ironic, considering we are perhaps the only ones that know the full circumstances surrounding."

Remus’ lower lip flinched before he regained his composure. Snape allowed a moment of regret.

"I didn’t want to talk about that in front of the children, Severus."

"Ah, so that’s why you and Black weren’t over each other like dogs in heat as soon as you saw each other."

Snape rarely lost control of his tongue. Every sentence directed at others fulfilled a direct purpose. A lot of the time, this was to humiliate and belittle. But the thought of that night fired a shot of rage through him, forcing unbidden words from his lips. The children didn’t see it but to Snape it was obvious from the locked eyes of the two lovers.

Lupin said nothing, simply regarded him with his annoyingly sympathetic, almost pitiful eyes. Snape wondered how much sympathy Lupin would feel if he walked right over to him and tore those offending orbs straight out of their sockets.

"I do feel your reaction may have been a little too strong, Severus." The man spoke in a very calm, quiet voice. "You did not need to bind me."

Snape caught the underlying fear in his voice. They met eyes a moment. The Potions Master felt his retort die on his lips. He had considered that, after. It had been a spur of the moment idea. And he did not deny he sight of the man writhing and bucking on the ground was not intensely arousing for him. He had been glad he was wearing such heavy robes. Sirius had, certainly, been furious.

When Snape later had the chance to run through the events of the night with a small goblet of gilly water in his office, he had pondered at the fury that Sirius had expressed at seeing his lover bound. It may have been simply because Severus was hurting his love, he may have sensed that Snape was enjoying the delicious sight a little more than he should have or…

It may have been because Remus had told him that detail of his sordid story.

Damn that bastard! Damn them both.

Severus had been overjoyed to be the cause of Remus leaving the school. Let him try and get a job of equal prestige. He would always be nothing more than a (beautiful, wonderful) pathetic werewolf, in Severus’ opinion. As for Sirius, it was only Dumbledore who stopped him from getting a little Kiss of his own.

Snape was not inhuman to not feel some guilt for the ‘binding’. But he refused to apologize for it. He was determined to keep whatever pride he had left.

"May I sleep a while?"

Just like him. Always so obscenely polite.

Snape nodded curtly, aware that one of the effects of Wolfsbane was extreme sleepiness.

"I’ll just drop off in this chair, if that’s alright with you."

Snape nodded. Within minutes, the man appeared in a deep rest, his face suddenly younger than his thirty eight years, indeed, regenerating to a version of the seventeen year old boy Severus knew. He could not tear his eyes away from his ashen lashes, the lightly stubbled chin, the tawny hair, streaked with thin tendrils of white. Severus could not resist reaching his hand up to stroke up his cheek to his hair, running his fingers through the strands with a tenderness that confused the Potions Master. He leant forward, breathing in the man’s spicy aftershave and pressed his lips against the neck, the light stubble tickling his lips.

"Mmm… Sirius…"

A hand reached around to stroke down Severus’ back. He jumped back, confusion slicing clean path through himself.

"Bloody werewolf." He muttered and turned back to his work desk, not before picking up the lock of hair from the floor and slipping it into his drawer, ignoring the throbbing excruciation between his legs, but a dim memory of the one in his heart.
 
 

"Would you put that book down and listen?"

Harry sighed and removed his glasses to wipe his eyes. He had gone to the library for a quick study before the first exam from Mr. Nostro’s class the next day. Nostro had as much as informed the entire class that he would fail them unless they scored over seventy percent. Ron had simply refused to go with Harry, stating he would rather die than step foot into Hogwarts Library ever again. Harry found this to be rather ridiculous. Obviously, he would have to look at a book at some stage in the next four years. Ron was adamant, however.

Harry dared not think what Percy thought about stepping into Hogwarts Library after what had happened. If, indeed, he ever did again.

Half way through his study, (or rather, endeavoring to decipher the rather dry language without it starting to blur as his eyes became more and more sleepy) Draco had stepped up and sat down next to him, before commencing to whinge about not making the lead in the Advanced Dramatic Wizard’s Convention, to be held the next semester. Only one person per school was chosen to travel to the convention, held in Italy that term. The lead had been given to Ravenclaw Lester Rondo.

"He can’t even say two words without stu-stu-stuttering and he continues to overannounciate. Besides, his Wizard Welco versus Hag Medalante hair is enough to consider him not fit for any public viewing."

Draco had continued on in this vein, thinking up more and more inventive ways to insult the man. After a while, Harry picked up his book to continue reading.

"I heard it, hon. I’m sorry." Harry leant across to peck him on the cheek. This did not satisfy the Slytherin who continued to scowl.

"Everyone knows I am the best. It simply makes no sense."

Harry took his hand, stroking along his ring finger, as he continued to read. This seemed to appease the boy awhile.

"Harry!"

The Gryffindor jumped. He had finally found a vaguely interesting section to his book and was shocked to be jolted suddenly out of the story of the first ever Qudditch team, the Greenland Bats.

"Why aren’t you listening to me? Oh, I see." He shook his hand free and started to rifle through the pages of his book. "If it isn’t related to Quidditch, you don’t care."

Harry snatched the book from him. "I’ve got an exam tomorrow, Draco. If I don’t pass, Professor Nostro will fail me."

"Harry Potter failing a course. That would be something new for Mr. Perfection. Do you think you’ll die of shock? Just pretend you're Weasley, Potter. That’s as close to imperfection as you can get."

Harry refused to take the bate. It was dangerous to coax Draco when he was in one of those moods. Best to just ignore him until it past. He opened the book and began to very obviously read it. Realizing he wasn’t getting any reaction from the Gryffindor, Draco stormed out of the room, no doubt to find someone else to annoy.
 
 

Harry arrived at Hogwarts Hall for dinner a little early, not surprised to see Hermione seated at the Gryffindor table. She smiled at her friend and stared to offload the books from the table into her bag. Many of them were law related but one in particular caught Harry’s eye. ‘The Silver Isles: Summer Camp of Wizard Life.’ Tacked to the front cover, over the picture of a man totally enthused by all the camp had to offer, was a piece of parchment with a simple name written across it, in Hermione’s writing.

Jonas Fletch.

Assuming it to be the co-ordinator, Harry did not give the name a second thought.

"Thinking of taking up Summer Camp, Hermione?" Harry asked as he sat down next to her.

The girl smiled. "Just a little project of mine, Harry."

Both watched Draco step into the hall, surrounded by other Slytherins.

No doubt giving him all the sympathy I couldn’t.

Harry noted the simpering way some were looking at him and felt his stomach curdle, a righteous fury pushing forth through him, reaching out to wrap around their adoring eyes.

Get your eyes off him!

"Ron."

Hermione indicated the boy stepping into the room amongst a rush of mixed Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. An odd look overtook her face as the large boy stopped him at the entrance. Harry glanced at her in concern, noting anger dance about her brown orbs. Both watched as Goyle tapped the spooked boy on the shoulder, appearing to request him to follow. Ron shook his head and attempted to step forward, only to have the large boy lean forward to whisper into his ear. Ron’s eyes glanced across to Harry, then to Draco, before finally dropping his head and following the boy out.

It was a few minutes later, after dinner had commenced, that Ron arrived back. He sat down and eyed Harry a moment, an expression of extreme consternation and disturbance crossing his features.

"What is it, Ron?"

The redhead shook his head. "I’ll tell you after dinner."

Harry pushed his irritation deep inside of him, tired of everyone’s continuing aloofness. Hermione caught his eyes and smiled. The Gryffindor managed a tired grin back.
 
 
 
 

Draco’s continued heavy breathing into Harry’s ear past climax was enough to bring the Gryffindor over the edge. He pushed up into the boy’s hand once more, shooting his semen over his stomach. Upon reaching the Slytherin common room that night, he had, for once, not wanted to make out. He was exhausted after six hours straight of studying and longed to simply take off his invisibility robe and crawl into Draco’s bed and sleep, without even bothering to enact the sound spell. The Slytherin appeared to have other plans, however and veritably pounced on Harry as soon as he moved under the covers. The fact that there were Slytherins still awake in the room appeared deeply erotic for their fellow Slytherin, who had informed Harry of his plan to give and receive oral pleasure while under the invisibility cloak in the common room. Harry had cursed his extreme tiredness, frustrated that when Draco was willing to experiment, he was only up to mutual masturbation. He wondered if there would ever be a time when both their wants intertwined.

Harry leant his head forward onto his lover’s forehead as his robes were put back into place, after his mess was cleaned. He reached a hand up to the boy’s cheek, stroking along the fine bone down to the jaw, before pushing the boy back until his back lay on the bed, Harry’s head on his chest. The Gryffindor decided to wait until morning to tell Draco the disturbing news Ron had informed him of that night.
 
 
 
 

Harry woke up to a pair of very amused grey eyes staring back.

"Sweet dreams, Harry?"

The Gryffindor groaned as a hand reached into his robes to give his erection a quick tug.

Yes, he did have sweet dreams. Very, very sweet dreams.

Harry’s groans and whimpers continued as the expert hand continued to work its own magic.

"When are you going to tell me about those dreams that have you whimpering my name throughout the morning?"

He heard?

Harry felt his face suddenly grow very hot.

"Aw, don’t be embarrassed!" Draco loped a leg over until he was straddling Harry. "I find it really sexy."

He slid down the bed, pulling Harry’s robes apart to expose his erection.

Oh no, hon. I’m too close.

Harry bit his hand to keep from crying out as his lover’s lips enclosed around his erection, tongue, lips and teeth sucking and scraping, hands reaching under his robes to stroke along his thigh. In under thirty seconds, the Gryffindor was biting down so hard into his hand his teeth tore right into the skin as all muscles clamped, before tremoring senselessly in the throes of a major orgasm.

He watched lazily as his lover made a face and spat the semen over the bed covers, before using his wand to clean it up. He looked at Harry and smiled.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Your dream."

Harry felt his face go red as he talked. "Well, it was…er… in my house. And you were um… cuffed to my bed. That’s-"

Draco raised a brow. "Yes, I am aware what that is, Harry. Continue."

Harry felt as if he could gladly disappear straight through the ground, past the common room below, further and further down through Hogwarts until he was in the Earth itself.

"And we were… making love."

"How? Sucking each other? Or were you jerking me off? Give me details, Harry."

Harry suddenly found he couldn’t look him in the eye.

He’s going to think I’m an absolute pervert.

"I was… er… making love to you. You know, the way… the full on way."

Draco burst out laughing. "So, let me get this straight. You were fucking me cuffed to the bed. So, Harry Potter’s a kinky slut. What a revelation."

He reached his hand under Harry’s chin to pull his face up. "I think that will keep me for the rest of the day, Harry. Personally, I think it’s hot."

Harry’s mouth opened in shock. He had thought Draco would be furious with him, considering his own inability to actually commit to the act Harry consistently dreamt about. Voices filtered through the closed curtains of the bed. Harry recognized Janus and Crabbe’s voices.

"Under the invisibility cloak!"

Harry grabbed the boy close to him and threw on the cloak just as the curtains were swished open, two sets of eyes staring directly at them.

"Not here." Janus sat on the edge of the bed, disturbingly close to where the two boys lay curled up together. "Probably gone off to fuck Harry Potter, somewhere. I’m surprised, Crabbe. You were friends with him for years and not once tried to fuck him?"

Something flashed in Crabbe’s eyes, then that Harry could not quite interpret. Janus chuckled.

"Should have followed Marcus’ example. Too soft, that’s your problem."

Harry felt Draco stiffen beside him.

"What are we doing here?" Crabbe’s voice sounded strangely wooden.

Janus shrugged. "Dunno. He hasn’t talked to me the past few days. Thought I’d ask him why."

"He hates me."

Harry thought he detected a hint of pain in the tenor voice. Janus’ head shot up to look directly at the boy, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Not that I care." The boy added, perhaps a little too quickly. "He always treated me like a moron. I’m so proud of… um… Marcus for bringing him down."

Harry had to use all of his might to still the boy desperately endeavoring to move out of the invisibility cloak, his hand clamped over Draco’s mouth. Janus turned and stared directly at the two a moment, eyes narrowing, before he stood up.

"Come on. Let’s go raid the kitchen."

When he stepped away, Crabbe stood where he was a moment, eyes crinkling, mouth quivering. Harry blinked at what looked like tears in his eyes. The large boy then sighed loudly and stepped away to follow Janus.

Harry let go of Draco, who promptly punched him on the arm.

"Don’t you ever do that again, Harry!"

He shrugged off the invisibility robe to glare at the Gryffindor. Harry could see that he was trembling.

"I’m sorry but they couldn’t have seen you! We’d both get expelled if it was known I’ve been sneaking into your dormitory at night."

"I want to hear it right now. Tell me you won’t ever try and hold me against my will again."

Harry closed his eyes. " I won’t ever hold you against your will again."

Draco nodded, apparently satisfied and stood up to change his robes. Harry sat up on the bed. Now was the time to tell him. Yet, the Gryffindor felt strangely nervous.

"Draco…" He began, apprehensively. The Slytherin had shrugged out of his robes and was slipping on a pair of black slacks. He looked up to Harry in concern.

"Everything alright, Harry?"

Harry simply looked at his lover a moment.

He’s tiny. How tall would he be? Five foot five? Five foot six?

He tried to recall an image of the Hateful one in his mind. He must have been at least six foot one or two, rippling muscles a testament to his strength.

He fought him. Even though he must have known he didn’t stand a chance. Maybe that’s why Marcus was so rough with him.

"I’ve found out what happened with the watch." Harry could not contain the bitterness in his voice. Draco, who had shrugged a shirt over his shoulders, froze, mid button, face turning even paler, if it were possible.

"Goyle went up and told Ron. He apparently overheard some Slytherins talking. You see, after that bastard Janus found out about your ‘gift’ for me, he devised a spell to swap your gift from me for the watch he’d stolen from the Informatory."

"He… stole…that? Why?" Draco was looking so deathly white that Harry was afraid he would pass out from loss of blood.

"I don’t know, Draco."

Harry suspected it was to fulfill a perverse need of the boy’s own, to own an object used in the violation of another. He couldn’t possibly tell Draco, however.

"Well, it’s settled then." Draco turned back to his shirt. "I want that present back. It’s yours, Harry."
 
 

Harry felt he was making good time on his exam when he was surreptitiously nudged by his best friend. Ron placed a finger to his lips and pointed down between his legs. Harry’s brow crinkled, then raised as he followed the boy’s hand to the jar he kept in his open bag. Even though the glass was soundproof, Harry would not have been surprised if Professor Nostro could hear the bug buzzing viciously against the sides of jar. He smiled at Ron.

"Ten points off Gryffindor!"

Harry jumped to a pair of eagle eyes staring at him, before the man turned back to look over the shoulder of an obviously stumped boy, in what to Harry looked like an attempt to make him more awkward. He dared not glance at Ron but wondered the same thing. How did the man know they had exchanged a glance? Nostro eerily reminded him of Professor Moody, whose own magic eye could see through the back of his head, or so it seemed. Harry dared not think about anything but Quidditch, in the odd thought the man could read thoughts. His mind slipped towards the bug, however. He would have to question Hermione about that later. But then, he hadn’t seen the girl in the past few days. This was a little odd but not worriedly so. For Hermione was sometimes apt to spend literally days in the library. Harry simply assumed that the times he had been in the library the past two days, the girl had simply gone off to relieve herself or obtain some food. It was a little strange, however, that he kept missing her.
 
 

"So, where is Hermione?" Harry asked Ron as they stalked the halls after class, Ron still fuming for getting ten points taken off for sneezing.

"He’s just like Snape. Only worse, if that’s possible!"

Harry repeated his question.

"I don’t know." Ron frowned. "She just told me to look after Rita while she was gone, so-"

"Weasley! Potter!" Both boys jumped, Ron favoring Harry with a look of absolute despair, before turning to face the teacher.

"Weasley, please put your bag down and open it."

Ron glanced at Harry but did as the Professor asked. Both boy’s expressions of annoyance turned to worry when the man bought the jar up, face twisted in an ugly grimace as he twisted it in his clawed hands.

"Answer me this, Weasley. Do you think I’m a fool?"

Harry bit his lip to keep from smiling.

"I don’t know what you mean, sir." Ron gave Harry a warning glance.

"So you don’t think I wouldn’t find it odd that you would bring along such a large sack to my class." He kicked lightly at the bag. "Why, this is twice the size of your usual one. Now, why are you keeping bugs in my class room?"

"No! Don’t!"

Both boys protested as the Professor flicked off the lid. Ron let out a frustrated exclamation that Harry was sure Nostro would not be very pleased about as the Rita Skeeter bug quickly buzzed away down the hall.

"Fifty points! And I am disgusted that you would use such gutter language around a Professor, Weasley."

He said the last word as if it was a very unpleasant object he’d found at the bottom of his shoe. Ron stared at Nostro as if he would gladly rip his head from his shoulders.

"Professor Nostro."

Mcgonagall nodded at Harry and Ron and turned to the man. Nostro smiled, revealing three rows of teeth. His eyes remained hard.

"High school Gryffindor/ Hufflepuff match next week end. May the best team win."

Neither of the boys could close their gaping mouths. Mcgonagall looked back to wink at the Gryffindors. "Though I would say Gryffindor has the advantage."

Nostro’s upper lip curled. "Do not doubt the strength of Olivier Chan, Mcgonagall."

Ron shook his head as he picked up his bag. Both boys used the opportunity to make a hasty retreat.

"Hufflepuff? Hufflepuff? Has the world gone mad?" Ron shook his head, as they rushed down the hall.
 
 

Harry wasn’t sure what to expect, when he received the note from Draco during Dinner. It had simply read:

Time for the Dragon to create a little fire. Our room at twelve o’clock if you want to watch.

Their room was an abandoned classroom they had discovered on the sixth floor during a search for another place beside the oak for privacy. From the state of the desks, falling apart at the nails and blackboard half collapsed off the wall, both were assured they wouldn’t be disturbed.

The unsightly stain on their place stood grandly in the centre of the room, his broad hands on his hips. Draco positioned before him, virtually dwarfed by the overbearing presence. Harry sat on the teacher’s desk, a little back from the two. He was sure they could hear his hyperactive breathing. This was due to his certainty that if the man went a little crazy, he and Draco would not be able to handle him.

It wasn’t as though Snape was there to protect them from potential trouble.

"So, do you have it?"

Janus searched his pockets a few moments, before coming up with a peculiar object. Harry squinted his eyes, as though that would somehow cause the object to be familiar. It looked to be, was that…?

He finally realized what he was looking at. It was… a doll.

Why would Draco give me a doll?

He almost gave himself away by giggling but managed to hold it in.

"This says a lot about yours and Harry’s relationship, you know."

Draco stroked down the black curls with his hands a moment ,before throwing it towards the desk. Harry scuttled to the side as it landed where he had just sat. He looked down to the cherubic face, the full cheeks, the large blue eyes, totally baffled. It was dressed in a snow white dress, the colour of-

His skin. Harry, get a grip!

"Why did you do it?" Draco had acquired the cold voice he used to reserve only for Harry Potter.

"It was an accident. I was trying to get rid of the watch. See, Marcus gave it to me-"

BANG!

Harry jumped, the invisibility cloak slipping off him a little. He recovered himself only to realize there was no point to it. Draco stood with his wand out, pointed precisely where the boy was standing. In his place was a small black spider, scuttering about. Harry slipped his cloak off and rushed forward.

"Should I do it, Harry?" He lifted a foot a little. Harry touched his hand, shook his head. Draco bent down to pick up the arachnid as Harry had a stray thought that if Ron were there, he would be the one scuttering about, in pure terror.

"This is what happens when you lie to me." The spider ceased its movement, then appeared to lower its miniature Janus head down to the Slytherin’s flesh. "Ah, you see that isn’t going to help. You can’t bite me, Janus. Count yourself lucky. I would have squashed you, if Harry didn’t care more for your well being than I do."

He gently lay the spider on the floor and held his wand on it again.

"Finite Incatum!"

The man reappeared and looked from Draco to Harry and back to Draco again. Harry read murder in his eyes.

We are in trouble.

"No, Draco. You shouldn’t have done that." His tone was of that reserved for a four year old.

The Slytherin continued to hold his wand on the man. Harry was so busy searching his robes for his wand that he didn’t see the man’s movement. Another loud BANG sounded and Harry vaguely heard Draco’s dismayed cry and a second loud noise before everything suddenly became very large, very large indeed. In fact, the other two appeared as giants. Harry realized he was barely reaching their ankles. Fear cursed through his entire body (whatever body) and he tried to gather his limbs to move, only to realize that whatever he had turned into hadn’t the capacity to stand on two legs, as he was currently endeavoring to do. He managed a squawk of a kind (or so it sounded to his ears) and rushed to move away as a giant hand moved over to pick him up.

Not Draco.

This hand was broader, had thicker fingers. He could just make out tiny black hairs running from the back of the palm up to the arm. The sounds seemed to roar around him, as he was bought up the extremely large body. He squawked once more, frustrated at his inability to place his hands over his ears at the tremendous booming about him, jolting his small frame. He could not make out words, only the incessant, overwhelming noise. He looked up to an enormous face, fascinated by the open pores across the nose, the whirling stubble across the cheeks, upper lip, chin and neck. A large hand stroked along his back and he shuddered, attempting to move away. Disgust turned to panic as the hand wrapped around his back and stomach and squeezed. Harry jolted and shuddered in the boy’s hand, attempting to claw him in his haste to escape the pain. He suddenly found himself moving. Janus now held him out a little from his body, so he was facing the two others. Harry’s struggles ceased as he saw what Janus was doing to Draco. His Draco. Janus stood so close to the boy that his belly brushed up against his slack arms and ribs. Draco’s eyes, staring directly at Harry, were dead. Not an iota of any emotion shined through the usually vivid grey orbs. Janus had one hand through the silver blonde hair strands, then moved it down to gently caress his neck with a tenderness at odds with the obtrusion. His lips moved across his unwilling participant’s ear, his words low enough for Harry to hear them without bursting his eardrums.

"You’re so lovely. So sweet."

That was enough for Harry. Janus could squeeze the life out of him but he would not suffer one more word from that man’s lips. He struggled as mightily as he could and bit down hard into Janus’ hand. The man screamed and, on impulse, opened his hand. Harry had a few moments to realize that he was no longer connected to anything but air before he hit the floor with a thud. He lay still for a few moments, dazed.

Draco. Must get up.

Harry felt the jolt over his entire body. He did not actually feel himself change. One moment he was… whatever he was and the next he was Harry potter.

Harry Potter. Human. Five foot eight. Walked on two legs. Harry took a moment to check that he had everything necessary for a human. Yes, two legs, two arms, hair, a nose, a mouth. He ran his hands over every body part, never more thrilled in that moment to be human.

Draco.

He stood up (I can stand!) and rushed over to the boy. He had his wand out once more, this time over an unconscious man, his having enacted a sleeping spell on him. Harry took one look at his lover’s face and drew his leg back to kick Janus a few times in the stomach, feeling a dim satisfaction at hearing the bones crunch on impact.

"We should go."

Draco went to move away but Harry ceased him with a touch to his hand. "Are you alright? I… ah… saw what he was doing."

The blonde shook him off. "He didn’t do anything. I’m fine." He looked down a moment, a slight flush to his face. "Thank you, Harry. You know, for… for biting him."

Harry regarded the sleeping man once more and uttered the most colourful profanity he could think of before kicking him, this time in the groin.

"Only I am allowed to tell Mr. Draco Malfoy how lovely and sweet and wonderful he is." It was meant as a joke but Harry could not help the undercurrent of anger to his tone.

Draco’s brow crinkled a little. "Hey, I’m Slytherin, Harry. I’m neither lovely or sweet or wonderful. I’ll go with sexy, alluring and dark. You’re the bloody Gryffindor."

Harry smiled. "I think you’re very sweet and lovely."

Draco rolled his eyes then changed the subject. "Let’s go. I don’t want to be here when he wakes up."

At that instant, the door burst open and Snape strode through, Goyle waddling in behind him. He took one look at the boy on the floor then advanced on Harry.

"I should have known you were behind this, Potter."

Harry could only stare at him, utterly baffled.

"Now, would you please tell me what has occurred here, Mr. Malfoy." Snape kept his eyes on Harry the entire time.

"Well, it’s sort of a long story…"

"Then stop hesitating! I haven’t got all night!"

"Janus here had something of mine that I wanted back. We came here to swap it."

Snape nodded. "I find it very interesting, Mr. Malfoy that you would go to an abandoned Potions classroom to perform a swap and then knock the man unconscious."

"He attacked us-"

"Did I tell you to talk, Potter?" The man’s dark eyes glittered in menace.

"He turned-"

"I said-"

"Me into-"

"Be quiet-"

"HE STOLE THE WATCH FROM THE INFIRMARY!"

Snape blinked, finally shifted his gaze to Draco, who looked to the ground, cheeks flushed pink.

"And where is the watch now? Draco?"

The fellow Slytherin was silent a moment. "He swapped it for a gift of mine for Harry. When Harry opened it, he found the watch."

"Ah, so then Potter has it!"

"No, I smashed it."

"YOU SMASHED A VALUABLE PIECE OF EVIDENCE?"

Snape seemed positively beside himself. He advanced on his favourite student, hands raised to claws. Draco was at least now looking the man in the face, his mouth open, tears seeping down his cheeks. Harry suddenly realized it was he first time he had ever heard Snape raise his voice at Draco.

The blonde Slytherin attempted to talk a moment, only to have incoherent vowels issue out. He finally let out a sob of frustration and covered his face with his hands. Snape stopped, stilled, as though in shock as to the boy’s reaction.

"I had to. I couldn’t bear… I’m sorry. I… just to look at it…"

Harry moved forward to comfort his lover, only to be pushed aside by a much larger boy, who rushed forward, awkwardly patting the boy on the back.

"Please, please, Draco. Don’t cry." Goyle pleaded.

"Don’t TOUCH ME, Goyle!" Draco pushed him back. He was barely able to move the much larger boy but Goyle very obviously got the point.

"Harry…"

Harry barely heard his lover. He was too preoccupied with the wailing sob as the large Slytherin raced out of the room, his face in his hands.

"Please, Harry…" The words were said so quietly, so tragically. Harry moved over to gather the smaller boy into his arms, stroking his hair and whispering words of comfort, feeling absolutely helpless to stop his lover’s pain. Snape cleared his throat, clearly somewhat awkward. He finally walked over to the coming to boy and clicked his fingers in front of his eyes. Janus blinked.

"Come along, Mr. Copper. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore would not condone you stealing evidence from a rape case."

He smiled, revealing his stained teeth, the merriment not reaching his eyes.

"Malfoy knocked me out, Snape. He’s-"

"You need not concern yourself with Mr. Malfoy at the moment. Now stand up."

Janus shakily rose to his feet. He and Harry met eyes a moment, before Janus’ moved down to the one in his arms. He then hanged his head and moved towards the door. Snape looked to the lovers, then stole a quick glance to a table three rows from the back before returning to Harry and Draco once more.

"Five points, Potter, for going out of bounds."
 
 
 
 

Harry was half way back to the Gryffindor common room when he suddenly remembered he had forgotten the doll. Draco had likewise not mentioned it on their quiet jaunt to the Slytherin Portal, both too involved in their own thoughts. Outside the portal, Draco hugged Harry so tight, he woke up the next morning with bruises across his back.

By the time Harry finally made it to the Gryffindor common room, doll in hand, he was about ready to collapse as soon as he stepped into the portal, exhausted on emotional wretchedness. Ron was the only occupant of the room. He sat staring into the fire, eyes misty. Harry collapsed in the armchair next to him. It wasn’t until he caught Ron’s amused glance at the object in his arms that he realized he hadn’t let go of the doll.

"That was the present?" Ron’s face crinkled in confusion. "Why did Malfoy give you a doll?" He looked to Harry, eyes momentarily flashing embarrassment. "Maybe I don’t want to know."

Harry placed it on the floor beneath him. "I don’t know why he gave me this."

Ron reached over and picked it up, turning it over in his hands to examine it. "It’s definitely not new. I’d say it’s been well loved." A thought occurred to him. "Do you think it was Malfoy’s?"

Harry shook his head. "The type of toys he had as a child cost an entire allotment at Gringotts. I was given the ‘toy tour’ at the Malfoy Mansion." He gently took it from Ron’s hands. "I have no idea what this means."

Ron seemed to suddenly remember how Harry had the doll in the first place. "How did it go?"

Harry closed his eyes, suddenly feeling too tired to recite the events of the night. Perhaps if he waited until morning-

"Ron?"

That voice was familiar. Harry opened his eyes to see Percy stepping down the stairs to the dormitories to warm his hands before the fire. He wore one of Mrs. Weasley’s knitted jumpers, with a large P on the front and pajama bottoms that looked suspiciously like they had been ironed.

"Harry." He nodded. Ron gave Harry a look of absolute despair, then loudly yawned.

I’d better get to bed. Just thought I’d stay up to see you got in ok, Harry."

Lie. Ron was well aware that there would be a good chance Harry would stay in the Slytherin Dormitory that night. Harry couldn’t understand why Ron was so awkward around his brother.

"Night, Harry. Night, Percy."

Harry and Percy watched him clump up the stairs before standing and sitting in awkward silence a moment.

"Why are you here, Percy?"

"Dumbledore has graciously allowed me to return here to study professional wizard’s law."

Harry was confused. "But you already have. Draco’s case…"

"Draco’s case had me realize the skills I need to brush up on."

"I thought you were brilliant."

The man allowed a smile to touch his lips. "Thank you. I do appreciate the compliment."

Harry felt himself go red in response to his blurted out enthusiasm. Percy sat down in the chair beside Harry’s, folding his hands neatly before him, closing his eyes a moment to enjoy the heat of the fire. Harry could feel himself start to drift off before Percy’s soft tones startled him awake.

"Is Draco alright?"

Harry hesitated before answering. How to answer that? Was Draco ever ‘alright’? As in one hundred percent alright?

"He’s fine."

Percy caught the hesitancy. "He is very fortunate to have you, Harry. When I first had him recite the events of his… violation, it was, obviously, extremely harrowing and difficult. So I told him to recount a vivid happy memory. Hence, with a single word, I could recount that happy memory and entitle him that bliss for a few moments. The memory he chose involved you, Harry. So the word I chose was ‘Harry’."

Harry suddenly felt his heard pound in his chest. "Does that mean every time he hears-?"

Percy shook his head. "The spell only lasted those sessions. And it was only me who could recount the word."

"What memory was it?"

Percy’s cheeks suddenly flushed deep red. "I believed it was the first kiss. Though the circumstances surrounding it weren’t rather blissful but it appeared to work." He added, quickly.

Harry looked to the flames, amazed. Draco could have chosen anything, his first firebolt, arriving at Hogwarts the first time. The Gryffindor puzzled over it. Had the situation been reversed, what would he have chosen? First arriving at Hogwarts? Receiving the letter?

Would he have chosen the first kiss?

No, he decided. He had been too confused and Draco had seemed too upset. Plus, he had loused things up by allowing his lust to overcome his reason. No, he wouldn’t go for such an extravagant memory. For Harry, often the most blissful moments involved just lying in bed with his lover, not even necessarily touching, watching him sleep, or read, or puzzle over a new gadget his father had bought him.

"What would you have chosen?" Harry suddenly asked.

Percy waited so long before answering that Harry thought he hadn’t heard the question. He opened his mouth to repeat it before the redhead spoke.

"During my fifth year, I was fortunate to look into the Mirror of Erised. I saw myself as head of the Ministry of Magic." The man smiled a little. "I don’t know what I would see in it, now. Blissful memories of the past at times seem so silly, now…" He shook his head sadly. "Although I would give anything to be as naïve as I was then." He seemed to be talking more to himself, now. "Life is so much easier when one deludes themselves into thinking that their only troubles involve varying widths of cauldrons."

Harry felt a stab of guilt dig deep into his rib at the thought of him mocking Percy for his seeming anal retentiveness. It appeared in the past year he had a huge wallop in the guts for not looking closer at people, judging them purely by their outside masks. Had there always been more to them than he had seen? Or had they changed? Perhaps it was a bit of both. Harry was well aware of exactly who he’d see if he looked into the Mirror of Erised, now.

And he would be completely, utterly without shame or humiliation. He would not have any marks of that disease, that Marcus, on him whatsoever.

Percy politely covered his mouth as he yawned. "I’m sorry, Harry. I actually came down here to talk to Ron. Not that it hasn’t been a pleasure talking to you. But I’m afraid I must sleep, now."

Harry smiled. "Good night, Percy."

He bent down to pick up the doll, frowning over it a moment, before placing it on the chair beside himself. He felt tempted to ask it if it was warm enough , and chuckled a little to himself.

And he would have told me what the doll is about.
 
 

Harry was snatched as soon as he crawled onto his boyfriend’s bed. He was able to manage a gasp as he was thrown down on the covers, his hands held high above his head. Blazing grey eyes stared down onto him and he barely had time to cognize the wand before it was thrown away.

"I’ve been thinking about your dream all day, Harry." Draco heaved a leg over his lover, pulling his legs up so they rested on his stomach, the robes falling down, exposing Harry’s legs. The Gryffindor reached up to stroke his lover’s cheek, only to realize his hands simply wouldn’t move.

He had been bound.

"And I’ve decided I want to reenact it. In reverse."

As he talked, Draco ran a hand up and down the flesh of Harry’s thigh. Harry felt totally and utterly under the domination of his lover.

He was so close he felt that if Draco even touched him there, he would spout copious gallons over the bed.

"You’re forgetting something, Draco." He managed between gasps. "I used handcuffs."

The blonde shrugged. "Sometimes, one has to improvise."

Harry moaned as an alabaster hand trailed across his chest, scraping over a nipple, moving down further. He moved his legs around Draco’s waist, pushing his erection against his stomach.

"Stop with this torture!" He groaned as he felt lips touch his ear. "You know what you want to do. Please."

The silver blonde continued his little kisses across to his mouth, where he entered his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Harry could taste the blackberry pie that had been served at dinner that day. They finally released.

"I want to. I want to so much. Can I?"

Harry bit back a frown. This was not the way it was meant to happen! He suddenly wanted rail at his boyfriend for spoiling the fantasy. Draco wasn’t meant to ask! This wasn’t becoming of a Slytherin.

The blonde hovered above him, expecting an answer.

"Hurry up." Harry grinned at him. He was granted some relief when the blonde slipped down with his wand to point it at Harry’s opening.

"Lubricous."

He then crawled up until he was face to face with the raven-haired boy, who wrapped his legs around his lover. Then he simply stopped, staring into Harry’s face with an expression he couldn’t read.

"I’m sorry, Harry. I can’t."

What?

Draco pointed his wand at the Gryffindor and undid the binds. Harry had enough. He rolled them so he was on top, kissing down the boy’s face, wrapping his legs around his waist once more, grinding their erections together.

"Do it. You won’t hurt me. I’m ready."

"No." Draco’s face betrayed conflicting emotions. He moaned as Harry commenced to suck tenderly on his ear. Harry grabbed his lover and pulled it towards his opening.

"Please, Harry…"

Confusion swirled around Harry’s head. Had he somehow stepped into a vast alternate universe? Draco Malfoy was refusing to have sex with Harry Potter? Harry half expected the Earth to suddenly lose all gravity. He started to rub his lover against his opening, causing both to moan. How could this happen? Harry knew he wasn’t the one that should have been initiating. After all, wasn’t Draco the Slytherin? Harry sighed, ceased all movement. Draco continued to kiss his neck, causing tiny thrills up Harry’s spine with every movement of lips against skin. The blonde stopped, moved up to stare at Harry.

"What’s wrong?"

Where to begin? You’re just not acting the way you should. You should be just taking me. Don’t you understand?

Harry engulfed his mouth on his lover’s a moment before releasing. How to say it? He decided on sly teasing, and pushed his embarrassment deep down to speak.

"I always had this fantasy. Even before we were together. Draco Malfoy forcing me into the Slytherin’s dormitories and taking me. Not rape because I’ve been secretly wanting it, yearning for it. You were just… exherting some of that Slytherin power."

The speech had the opposite effect than he desired. Whereas he been expecting Draco to find his fantasy erotic, instead the Slytherin froze beneath him. Harry instantly berated himself.

Congratulations, Harry. You’ve managed to find once more prove your immense capacity to say the possibly worst thing.

Harry wasn’t exactly sure how the words he had just spoken to Draco were the worst possible in that moment . All he knew was that Draco suddenly looked up with him with such anger, it virtually became a physical force, knocking him back like a punch to the jaw.

Then, as quickly as it began, it suddenly disappeared. Draco rolled them so he was on top. Harry gasped as he felt his lover at his entrance and wrapped his legs around his waist. He groaned as he was entered, every hair on his body standing on end, not believing that this was happening, that Draco was allowing this.

His lover thrust up, hitting his prostate. Harry cried out, bucking in his arms, frustration racing through him at his inability to prolong the passion. Draco gasped from the sensation of his lover pulsing around him in the throes of orgasm and went over the edge himself. Before he had even finished seeping his semen into the Gryffindor, he abruptly pulled out. Harry flinched a little from the shock of it.

Draco rearranged his robes and slipped down on the bed, rolling to face away from Harry. The Gryffindor felt him stiffen as he wrapped his arms around his waist, moving his head up to kiss his cheek. He grabbed Draco’s wand and cleaned the result of their passion. When he turned back to his lover, he was shocked to find him silently crying.

"I didn’t hurt you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at all."

Draco rolled to face him, eyes blazing with anger once more. "Do you know what that sick bastard made me do?"

Harry wasn’t sure but he could make an established guess.

"Because he was Sirius. Do you understand? He wanted to degrade Sirius as well. It probably makes no sense. It didn’t even make sense to me. And he wanted me to… you know… inside him but I couldn’t. So that’s when he used his mouth to make me…"

Harry felt his own eyes prick with tears. "I’m sorry, if I forced you-"

"Forced me? Harry Potter doesn’t FORCE Draco Malfoy to do anything. I wanted to, Harry. I’m sick of it. I wanted to prove that I could. That he can’t stop me from doing what I want."

He reached across and drew Harry into his embrace, resting his head against his chest.

"Maybe next time it might last a little longer."

Harry giggled a little, wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist and breathed in the Earthy aroma of his hair.

Ah, changed shampoos.

"I can finally brag that I had Harry Potter."

"I’m offended, Malfoy that you didn’t think to brag about a false tryst with me before." He planted kisses throughout his hair.

"What’s the point? I knew I could have a real tryst with you if I really worked it."

Harry laughed. "Oh really. What makes you say that?"

"Oh come on, Harry. Do you even remember who you’re talking to?"

Stuck up, narcissistic little… the most annoying aspect being that he is one hundred percent right. He could have had me any time he wanted. Bastard.

Harry placed one last kiss to his lover’s hair, before resting his head back to the pillows.

"Stop being so fucking pathetic, Malfoy."

Harry shot his head up, so quickly he startled Draco awake. "What is it, Harry?"

"Do you really think the Centaurs can save you? They can’t get through the field, idiot!"

Harry covered his ears, but the words continued, unbidden. It was as though Marcus was standing right next to him, talking and panting into his ear. The next shaky words, punctuated by fearful, anguished sobs, had Draco’s tone, though the pursed lips of the boy looking up to him did not move.

"Please, please stop. If it’s revenge for something my father did to you, then consider the debt paid."

Draco looked very concerned. The Gryffindor could see him mouthing words with his mouth, not matching those in his head. He was suddenly struck with the notion that Marcus had used his own voice, even as ‘Sirius’. Surely Draco would have recognised the voice? But then, perhaps not. He was, after all, deeply traumatized.

"I couldn’t stop now, pretty Dragon, even if I tried."

Harry could feel tears prick at his eyes, in confusion as to what was occurring to him. The talk was suddenly overwhelmed by Marcus’ moans intermingled with his victim’s cries of anguish and pain.

"Make it stop. Please, make it stop."

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s trembling frame. "Stop it, Harry! You’re scaring me!"

Harry didn’t hear him. He was overwhelmed by the sudden sharp keening cry of the rapist as he reached the height of his dark passions, soiling his victim.

Destroying my beautiful one. That bastard.

Harry cried out himself in before darkness claimed him and he slipped to unconsciousness.

TBC…