Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Stream of Consciousness	By : AngelNarcissa90 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12234 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. Neither do I profit from the pleasurable experience of writing. Warning: Rape and Abuse Featured.

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Stream of Consciousness
By: MaryMasu89
Didn’t like the epilogue, so I’ve decided to do something about it. Bare with me. The story is done in my head, I’ve just got to translate it here for you to read and weigh in. Judge me, help me to make this the best story I can make it.
This is a WIP and I am going to finish it. I also know that I’ve got other stories started and unfinished, but I really am going to finish them…
On with the fic…
ooOOOoooOO

Draco laid still. The mattress was thin and his back hurt. It pained him to think about where he was and how he got there. It was dark. The only light came from the cell door. A dark figure would stand over him every once in awhile before wandering away from his line of vision. Goyle. Goyle was in here with him. Of that Draco was sure. He remembered the sentencing or rather the merciless condemnation as he was forcibly snatched from his parents’ arms and taken here. Here to the holding cells. Where everyone suspected of or having actually followed the Dark Lord was being kept.
Draco knew that he wasn’t innocent, but he hadn’t taken the Dark Mark. He was innocent of that at least. There was no surprise that the Savior hadn’t tried to rescue him. What with all the celebration going on it was hard to believe that the Ministry had thought far enough ahead to allow some wizards to miss the festivities to supervise the jailing of these hated criminals. No rest for the wicked, Draco supposed.
Moaning, Draco squeezed his eyes shut as another cramp ensnared him. His hands ached from clutching the corners of the mattress beneath him. He faintly felt a cool cloth press against his forehead. Why was Goyle attending to him? Did he know? Did he know that it was Draco that he was helping? Did he not care or was he nursing him in order to gain his trust? Was that his plan to heal him, to gain Draco’s trust only to crush it when he needed it the most?
“No,” Draco tossed the cloth off his forehead as he roughly turned his head from side to side. The cloth was not replaced. Draco heard the creak of the mattress next to him being occupied. Draco supposed that he was lucky in that Goyle wasn’t randy. He would be easy prey right about now; easy enough for Goyle to force himself on. Gasping roughly, Draco realized that he was losing control over his perception of reality. The darkness of the cell was closing in. Cold tendrils of sleep were binding him. They fully engulfed him and Draco knew no more.
oooooooOOOOOOOOOOOooooOOO

“Please, please, we have to do something. Hermione.”
“No, no, Harry we can’t. The Ministry is taking care of everything here. Just relax, relax. Everything will be taken care of. We’ve done all that we can.”
Harry settled on to the Weasley’s couch and pulled the knitted blanket over his body as Mrs. Weasley had suggested after they arrived. He was still in shock. The war was over. The Elder wand was with Dumbledore even though Harry was now the master of the wand. Fred was still dead. Tonks and Remus and Sirius were still gone. Nothing would bring them back. Ginny was taking long shaky breaths as Percy wrapped an arm around her.
Arthur Weasley was brining a warm mug of tea to his chapped lips as Molly passed George a similar mug. Ron was standing next to the fireplace a glass of fire whiskey in between his hands. Fleur, Bill and Charlie were seated in chairs brought in from the kitchen. All of them had their attention focused on Harry. He hadn’t slept in a long time and the echoes of Dumbledore’s voice could still be heard in his ears.
How could he leave things as they were? Fighting to contain his anger, Harry settled back into the cushions of the couch. No one would let him out of the room, let alone the house if he kept up his angry tirade. Kingsley had seen Harry to the Burrow with strict instructions to the Weasleys to keep him there. Harry had no intention of disobeying them yet.
Once he was rested, Harry promised himself that he would attempt to figure out just what the hell was going on. Talk about trials had already begun. The dust had barely settled on the battlefield and already, witch hunts were beginning to punish those who’d supported or were suspected of supporting the Dark Lord.
“What you need to do now is rest.” Molly’s voice carried over to Harry as he found a comfortable position. He really was much too tired to protest. When he got his energy back he’d figure out his next move. Slipping into unconsciousness, Harry felt a hand gently caress his face. A soft hum had begun and it wrapped him in a soft embrace of love. As he descended, Harry remembered his walk through the woods with his mother. He was there again only the fear was gone. Sirius and Remus and James were there leading him.
ooooooooOOOOOOOOooo

Draco felt feverish and irritable as hands wandered over his body. They were cold and stiff. Weakly, Draco attempted to fight the hands off. They were too heavy though. Nothing he did to stop them worked. He heard whispers above him, perhaps a warning to stop, but the hands didn’t listen. They continued to explore him.
First they were at his shoulders and then they were beneath his shirt, removing his shirt. The damp cold was everywhere now. Something wet and cavernous sucked at his neck and continued down his chest. Hot and hungry, Draco felt the need of those lips as they paved their way in saliva. Again, Draco tried to shake them off but steady hands held him still.
Pulling his legs upwards, Draco attempted to force the body holding him down off. His attempt failed as the weight of the man on top of him moved itself between his legs straddling him and continued to suck at his lips. Breathing hard, Draco opened his eyes and saw nothing in front of him. His eyesight had been going for some time and he wasn’t sure if it was the darkness of the cell or a physical ailment. Then the grinding started. Draco heard sighs, pants of lust next his ear as those lips encircled his earlobe and sucked. The sound made Draco gasp at the odd display of affection. Draco turned his head to deter his tormentor.
Lurching forward, Draco breathed harder. He wasn’t cold anymore. The fondling moved downward as hands unclasped his trousers and began to push them down. Fully exposed, the grinding became rougher and more forceful. The breathy pants were stronger and the hold of the body above him was more aggressive. Draco couldn’t keep up, desire and testoterone made his hips want to move on their own accord. His mind was foggy with sleep and a distant hunger and pain that throbbed in his back. Again the lips suckled at his neck, nipping and lightly biting him.
The rough feeling of the cloth between the clothed form above him and his own nakedness made the feeling of arousal that much more acute. Slowly it began in the deep bowel of his belly and unfurled as his prick hardened. The quick intakes of breath were becoming more guttural. The speed of his assailant quickened before it all but disappeared.
Draco was suddenly left cold and naked. His trousers were gathered around his ankles. The weight was still above him hovering. Draco sighed drawing a deep breath not knowing if the body would descend again. He moaned as another cramp wracked his body and his hands clawed at the mattress. Just as the pain climaxed inside of him the weight of the stranger was back. His trousers were removed from his ankles and nothing, not even the feel of rough cloth protected him from the solid shadowy figure above.
The slightly chilled skin warmed as it began to create heat with the same pace of dry humping as before. Draco’s breath hitched as his erection became further stimulated. He attempted to whisper stop, but his throat wouldn’t cooperate. There was little he could do without the strength and energy to end the physical gratification the body above him was receiving.
The force of hands lifting up and parting his legs further caused Draco to shudder. Moaning silently, Draco bit his bottom lip as felt himself being prepared. This had happened to him before, only once before and Draco refused to allow his mind to wander to the nightmare of Fenrir Greyback. Another cramp tore its way through his insides as the grating intensified. Breathing harder, feeling the slime of his assailants spit on his check as he drooled over him, Draco cried out. Nothing but a hoarse groan met his ears and he thought he heard a distinct chuckle at his side.
The nails dug in deeper, almost piercing his skin as his thighs were raised to an adjustable height. Draco inhaled deeply through his nose. It wasn’t hard to understand what the man above him was trying to achieve. Draco was much too tired to hold his legs in the heightened position the stranger wanted, needed for penetration. Draco was relieved until something cold and clammy lifted him. He felt himself being dragged backward and rested against a solid wall of cool skin that moved him upward with every breath. There were more people in the room than Draco first assumed.
His breath quickened again as those cold hands replaced the now warm ones of the person above him. Sightless, Draco gasped several times fear overtaking him. Rape was the one word that floated through his mind as those same hands found his hips, the back of his thighs and the parting of his bum. They felt around, dry and lukewarm for his entrance. Once found they savagely forced their way through into his heat.
Whimpering, Draco struggled uselessly. Again another cramp scraped at him and his hands unable to grasp the mattress beneath him, curled into themselves. Aided by the slam of his assailant’s length into him, Draco couldn’t breathe. Over and over, Draco was pierced while the body behind him held him in place. With every painful thrust came a guttural cry and slow retreat. Hands grabbed at his shoulders to steady his body for the rapist. No words were exchanged between the person above Draco and the person behind him. Tears filled his eyes as his breaths slowed and heightened. He couldn’t keep up and his own length quickly shrank.
Turning his head away, Draco’s lips met those of the person behind him. They bit and sucked brutally at his own lips. Their actions spoke of their promise to dominant and possess him next. Crying out in pain with another hoarse barely audible shout, Draco fought to ground himself. He clutched his hands into fists at the feeling of his belly being turning inside out. The tears slowly stifled as did the thrusts. The manic pace evened although the hands still dug into his shoulders. Eventually, the assailant stilled at his climax and thrust to the hilt into Draco pressing his forehead against Draco’s. Dizzy, Draco tipped his head backwards. The sticky fluid seeping out of the person above Draco into himself made his stomach churn.
Tears ran haphazardly down his face as Draco inhaled sharply at the rough exit. His legs were lowered and in their stiffness, couldn’t properly straighten out on the bed beneath him. Choking with sobs of pain and humiliation, Draco felt himself being lowered onto the bed beneath him. Sleep didn’t come easily with the pain in his bum, belly and his back.
oooooOOOOOooooOOOooOOOOooOO

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Stream of Consciousness