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Rage	By : Penner Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7334 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter fandom or any of the characters, and make no money on the fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Draco Dominates
- 2-Humiliation
- 1
- 2
SET DURING HALF-BLOOD PRINCE

-CHAPTER ONE-
Harry had finished his Potions Essay, his Charms revision and his Quidditch practice so he was left to the devices he had in the Gryffindor Dormitory, having been rudely asked to leave the Common Room by a group of Seventh Years who were intent on studying by the fireplace. Ron was getting some extra Keeper practice and Hermione was occupied by the extra homework she had asked for, so Harry was alone in the Tower.
The Marauder’s Map lay open on Harry’s bedside table next to his Pocket Sneakoscope and a box of Every-Flavour Beans in which only the vomit and troll-dung flavours remained. Footsteps patterned the Map’s parchment in various places amongst the castle and grounds of Hogwarts and Harry, once reaching the Dormitory (‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.’), immediately hunted for the name that had been burned into his retina for weeks. Draco Malfoy. It was Draco who Harry had been watching every night, spying on his every move, desperate to know where he was going every time he vanished from the map. As each day passed, Harry grew more obsessed, more attached to the Map and more mystified by the idea of Draco Malfoy, and what the blonde, young man was doing in his hours away from the castle. Even when Harry was in conversation with his best friends, he could only think of the pale skin, the grey eyes and the pink lips. He had grown less interested in Quidditch and found himself doodling trails of footprints during class, which he would begin to label before Ron asked him what he was doing.
Harry scanned the Map’s paper, clawing at the folds until he saw it. And the two words that moved down the Potions corridor stirred something inside his stomach – desperation, hunger. The name itself raised the hairs on Harry’s neck, prickling down his spine and tickling his balls. He lay in the silence, staring at the footprints and dwelling in the world of the paper, longing his existence to the presence of the Slytherin.
The door of the Dormitory burst open, prying Harry’s attention from the Map, but not quite from Him. In came Dean, pulling Ginny in his wake.
‘Blimey, Harry! Sorry, we thought it would be empty at this time.’
Harry caught on, seeing the ravished look in Ginny’s face, something in his heart beginning to twitch violently.
‘Oh, I’ll be going then,’ Harry said and he studied Ginny’s face a little more. She looked at Harry, almost sad and with a longing that Harry was sure had been for Dean. But as her eyes grew more desperate for some form of pleasure, her face was replaced in Harry’s mind. The brown irises became grey, the flaming hair extinguishing to pale blonde. The image of the girl Harry had loved was now the boy with which he was obsessed.
Dean mumbled, ‘are you sure?’
Harry nodded, blinking the image out of his head and passing them to the stairs that lead back down to the Common Room. He descended to the sound of Ginny’s giggles and the creaking of a bed, the Map clenched in his fist.
There was no room in the Common Room, not even for one, so he bypassed the sitting students and left through the portrait hole. His conscious pre-occupied, Harry’s subconscious lead him down the Grand Staircase and before he knew it, he was on the ground floor, making his way to the cold emptiness of the Dungeons – empty that was, apart from one. He passed suits of armour that blended into the walls behind them, his entire being tingling. Moments ago, he had been sitting looking at the name on paper and now, he was being thrust into that world, that very corridor that had been home to those footprints. Harry opened the map. He saw his own name, bobbling along the corridor and looked ahead of his path. There was the name and its footsteps were going far slower than the pumping of Harry’s heart. Draco Malfoy looked purposeless, heading neither here nor there – wandering, pondering. Harry moved himself quicker, the name would become a face, he would find Draco and he would...What would he do? Interrogate him about his journeys? Explain that he had come looking for Draco? Harry would have stopped and turned back had his legs allowed it, but on they walked, faster and faster until they finally found what they had been heading for. Harry looked up from the map.
The young man stood arms against the wall, his side to Harry. His blonde hair remained flawlessly sleeked back, his sweating forehead frowning angrily at something. Draco wasn’t wearing a robe. His shirt was unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest in his own intense heat, his tie slung untied over his shoulder. Harry heard Draco taking deep breaths, saw him wipe his forehead and sigh. Draco hadn’t noticed Harry; his mind was somewhere else and clearly struggling with that something else. Harry wondered if this undeniable stress had something to do with Draco’s disappearances on the map. He began to walk closer to Draco, his muscles clenched, his state sympathetic. Draco heard the footsteps and swung around.
‘What the fuck are you doing here, Potter?’
Harry didn’t say anything but kept walking until he was only a metre away from Draco.
‘Well? I asked you a question?’
‘I came to ask you,’ answered Harry, and then he changed his mind, ‘if you’re okay.’
Draco looked astounded, and also as though he had never felt more insulted.
‘You arrogant arse.’ Draco was seething with anger and hatred. ‘You might want to watch your mouth, Potter. I know people who want to see you skinned and have the tools to do it - you’re just lucky you’ve got Dumbledore to protect you.’
Draco inched closer. His nose was now millimetres from Harry’s, his face no longer sweating as he aired with confidence. He knew he could take Potter, without magic. He looked at those round spectacles and his heart burned. Potter was the reason for all of this, for the task the Dark Lord had given him, for the torture his family had endured. Draco just wanted to kick the shit out of the sixteen-year-old git.
‘I wasn’t kidding,’ Harry said, ‘I just-’
Harry couldn’t finish. Draco had slapped him in the face, hard. His skin burned and the force had interrupted his balance, knocking him clumsily into the wall. Harry was more surprised than anything; it wasn’t like Draco to take him on like this, without his cronies behind him.
It had felt so good, like a release Draco had been waiting for, hunting for. He couldn’t stop, now that he had got into the rhythm of it. He clenched Harry’s hair in his fist and pulled Harry’s face into his own.
‘Potter, Potter...I just realised you’re just the person I’ve been dying to see, to beat up.’
Harry was going to reply ‘What makes you think I’m going to let you?’ but stopped himself. There was something about being in Draco’s grasp that he couldn’t go against. This obsession with the young man had grown so far over the past weeks – he had been looking only at Draco’s footprints. There was a longing, something like he had seen on Ginny’s face, a longing to feel something other than empty hunger. He wanted to feel something that the intangible world of the Marauder’s Map could not give him. So he only looked into those thin, grey eyes and let the situation unfold.
Draco gazed back into Harry’s green ones for a moment, wanting to bite them out and show Harry Potter the pain he had been through since last summer, and then he slammed Harry’s face down on his knee. Harry’s nose burst and blood seeped out, pain erupting in every fibre of the face. He slumped to the ground, his cheek resting on Draco’s shoe.
Draco saw the next opportunity: here Potter lay, practically helpless and alone, Draco could take what he wanted, with those months of scrutiny and pain behind him like a plague of the past. The blonde boy leaned down and pushed Harry’s nose into the leather of his shoe, the feeling of power finally charging through him and eradicating all of those failed attempts Draco had made to achieve the Dark Lord’s task. Harry groaned in pain, still feeling as though he could get up and fight back but staying on the ground out of that twisted desire arousing in him, in his penis. It was now pushing uncomfortably against his fly. He let all of his energy sink out of him, allowing Draco the entirety of the release Harry knew he was taking. The Slytherin leaned down and smirked at Harry, ‘not so brilliant now, are you?’
Draco pushed Harry onto his back with his shoe and took a fistful of his shirt. He dragged the Gryffindor down the corridor where they found a broom cupboard which allowed them a few square metres of room. Draco pushed Harry to the ground and kept him there with a knee that pushed murderously into Harry’s chest, before undoing his own belt from around his pinstriped waist and flashing it before Harry’s eyes to ensure he saw it.
‘See this, Potter? This is my victory,’ he spat, saliva drowsing Harry’s right eye.
Draco then wrapped the belt around Harry’s wrists and fastened then agonizingly together before pulling both arms up and tying them a broom that sat horizontally unmovable on a shelf.
The pain was getting more extreme by the minute, and the leather that cut into Harry’s arms shook some anger into his head, replacing some of his arousal. Draco had broken his nose once this year already, on the Hogwarts Express when it had arrived at Hogsmeade Station – Harry already owed himself revenge but he lay there. Besides, it was already too late to make any move of defense, he was powerless in Draco’s fastenings and could only move his legs.
‘Anything to say, Potter? Or are you just too humiliated that you’re just my bitch now?’
Harry looked up to Draco, once more absorbing the fact that he was truly staring into them, that they were not just a ghostly image belonging to his mind.
‘Draco,’ Harry spluttered, spit running down his face in tears, ‘why are you doing this?’
Underneath the twisted bliss that Harry was feeling, the question hung like a gallow in his mind. Why was Draco so angry? Why did he need this release? Harry was sure that it all lead back to his disappearances on the Map.
‘Why?’ Draco hissed, ‘because you deserve this, that’s why. You’re the reason my life is so fucked up. You caused everything, my father’s imprisonment, his disowning, my family’s embarrassment.’
Harry wasn’t convinced. ‘Then why were you sweating earlier? It’s snowing outside and you’re in the dungeons. That wasn’t all just because of me.’
In reply, Draco knelt down on Harry’s balls, not lacking strength or conviction.
‘Mind your own business, Potter. Now, let’s have some fun, shall we?’
Harry screamed through his teeth as his balls were crushed. He threw his head back against the shelves as Draco pushed down harder and harder. The more bruised Harry’s balls grew, the stiffer his penis became. Perhaps it was natural stimulation, his body merely reacting to the pressure... Harry stuck with this explanation, not wanting to explore the part of his mind that suggested a sexual attraction to the Slytherin. Despite his obsession with Draco, Harry had not forgtten how cruel the boy was, and did not ignore his true opposition to the young man.
Draco cackled. He felt as though this was the most enjoyable thing he had done in all of his life. Potter was so much weaker than he was, inferior, as he had always known. Harry wiped his wet face awkwardly on his shoulders, his glasses pushing upwards as his lower half writhed in pain.
‘Told you I was better,’ Draco whispered, leaning down to Harry’s ear. ‘And it’s not just because I’m pureblood. I’m better. I could do anything I wanted to you, and you could do fuck all about it.’
Harry was suddenly aware of the wetness in his boxers, they were now so tight he could feel everything that went on in his crotch area from the beautiful pain in his sack to the dripping of cum on his thigh.
‘Where are you going every night?’ Harry mumbled, pulling back some energy that he had let go.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You vanish every night on the Map. You’re up to something.’
‘What Map are you talking about, Potter. Are you deluded or something?’
Harry reached instinctively to the Map in his pocket but was unable due to his leather barriers.
‘I have a Map that show where everyone is,’ he coughed.
Draco grabbed the Parchment that hung out of Harry’s pocket.
‘This piece of shit?’ Draco asked.
Harry tried to pull himself forward to take the Map back, pushed with all his might, somewhat regretting his own allowance for Draco’s violent actions. The blonde boy took the parchment and tore it in front of Harry’s green eyes. Harry dropped limply, sighing with a deep furiosity.
‘Fuck you,’ he called with little effort.
‘Do you want to fuck me, Potter?’
Draco let the question hang there, now glad that Harry had brought the subject up - even if out of context. Harry didn’t answer. Draco slid a hand down to the middle of his own chest where the first button of his shirt was fastened.
‘Do you want to be inside me, you little cunt?’
He unbuttoned his shirt down to his belly button, revealing prominent pecs and firm nipples. He brought his finger to the tips of one and circled it.
Harry’s eyes were stuck on Draco’s finger, his nipple. He had never witnessed anything more stimulating, more visually penetrating. Without thinking, he nodded shamefully, beginning to feel extremely stuffy in his black robes.
‘I knew it. You want to fuck me, because I’m better than you.’
Draco continued to stroke his nipples, eventually bringing his finger down his chest where he fully unbuttoned his shirt. Draco moved closer to Harry, perched above him on both feet, moving over Harry’s stretched out legs. The Slytherin sat on the Gryffindor’s thighs thinking of course he’s attracted to me, it’s not that surprising a fact.
Harry wished he hadn’t nodded his head. This had changed everything, his entire relationship with Draco Malfoy, his own understanding of his sexuality. Never before had Harry been attracted to a male, not once in his life. But Draco’s chest, his firm buttocks pushing tightly out of the pinstripes, and his viciously angelic face had Harry’s penis thumping like as drum in his trousers. Harry wondered about Draco though, is he attracted to me or is he just abusing his power? Harry looked up at Draco, his nose still bloody and his eye slightly blackened from the impact of Draco’s knee. Harry didn’t stop looking at Draco’s eyes, like oceans of grey swirling in violent currents, ready to drown their closest victim. Draco rubbed his abdominal area with his hand, his own touch arousing him as he looked down to Harry’s bulge. He decided that he had spoken enough, and that any further words would disturb the actions he was about to take.
The blonde young man reached forward with his warmed hand and stroked Harry’s crotch. Harry suddenly groaned in pleasure, finally breaking eye contact with Draco. He felt a surge of pre-cum sprouting from his cock like a poorly cast Patronus. Draco, with his other hand pulled Harry’s thick, black hair upwards to his torso until Harry’s lips, nose and forehead touched him. Harry let his tongue taste Draco’s pale skin. He moved it in rivulets, creating warm moisture on Draco’s stomach and moving up to his nipple, straining his neck and burying his head deeper. Draco now lightly squeezed Harry’s cock enjoying the taste of domination that was pulsing through his blood. Draco let out a deep, husky laugh and grinned menacingly at his prey.
For a little while, Harry sucked on Draco’s chest, like a baby to its mother, both enjoying the connection to the other. Harry felt strange, as though a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He was completely under the control of someone else, he needn’t make any dangerous choices for once, or face any true dangers (he hoped). He didn’t have to lead.
But then Draco grew too aroused for the mild contact that they now made. He stood up suddenly, leaving Harry’s head hanging forward, his tongue between his teeth. Draco removed his shirt entirely and dropped it down over Harry’s face. The soft cotton rubbed against Harry’s skin, the indescribable smell of Draco flooding him. Harry instinctively inhaled as he heard Draco shuffling about, wishing he could see but somehow made more aroused by the fact that he couldn’t. Draco removed his shoes and then socks. An idea flashed across his mind that he could use the socks to muffle out screams that he could inflict on Harry. Draco then slid off his tight trousers, seeing his own thighs which prickled his neck. Perhaps this sight of this muscular flesh had made his realise exactly what he was doing - and he loved it. It was like a drug, every part of his being felt unencumbered by all but desire, the burning heat of temptation. All that clung to Draco’s young, fit body were tight white boxer shorts which struggled to contain the monstrous cock within which was growing every second. Draco then lowered to his knees.
He removed Harry’s shoes, and the feeling and sight of the black leather caused his own penis to spray warm cum inside his boxers. He took of Harry’s socks and then raised a hand to Harry’s face, rubbing it on top of the shirt. Draco imagined Harry wearing black, leather trousers and his stomach flipped. He bowed down to Harry’s thighs, smelling them. Realising that he had gone too long without harming Harry, he bit into Harry’s legs hard.
Harry moaned loudly, but any form of complaint had long fled from his mind.
Draco suddenly took his wand from his trouser lining, thinking of something.
‘Diffindo.’
Harry’s trousers fell to pieces and this made him look wild, like a man who had turned to a beast, a beast too strong for human clothes. But Draco flew the pieces away with a wave of his wand, leaving Harry’s legs bear.
Draco rose to his feet, wand still in his hand. He pulled down his boxers. And the penis was free. Reaching a hand out, Draco slid the shirt from Harry’s face.
The sight was inhuman.
Harry’s eyes must have grown to twice their usual size. He could not remember such a strong feeling of desire rushing through him; a small sweat even broke out on his forehead. Draco stood, arms pushed back so that his chest was pushed forwards. Harry looked at the pale arms and noticed the veins running from hand to muscle. Draco hid his strength well beneath his cloak, but Harry saw it now. The pecs were full, the nipples firm above a stomach smooth and strong. And then there was the cock. It was huge and pink, and Harry for a moment felt a strong sense of envy at Draco’s physical perfection. But a sin so dark turned to lust and Harry’s own penis bulged achingly under his boxers.
The tip of Draco’s penis was noticeably pulsing and began to drip onto his feet below his slender but strong legs.
‘Oh God,’ Harry blurted without control.
Draco chuckled, a deep cold chuckle. He placed one foot forward and placed a hand firmly on Harry’s head. Harry’s whole being lurched and flipped on the inside. Draco took the magic wand in his right hand - long and thin - and slid it into Harry’s mouth. Harry’s felt the polished wood pass through his lids. But it didn’t stop, and Draco pushed it to the edge of Harry’s throat. Harry wretched. Draco slid the wand out more slowly than he had pushed it in.
Draco cleaned his wand on Harry’s left cheek. He waved it, and the leather belt which had pinned Harry’s hand together against the broom fell to the side. Harry was free, but did not think to attack or flee.
Draco then pointed his wand at Harry’s chest. Harry’s tie removed itself along with his robes. The charm did not extend to his shirt, but Draco dropped his wand and got even closer to Harry. So close that Draco’s stiff penis prodded Harry’s eye.
Harry would never forget that first sloppy, slippery contact.
Draco took a fistful of Harry’s shirt and then tore. The shirt fell apart just as the trousers had, and Harry - for a moment - wondered when and how he was going to get back to the Common Room.
Draco looked down at Harry’s chest. It was less pale than his own, almost warm. But it was strong. Harry’s nipples were firm and the position he was seated in emphasised his abdominals.
‘Not bad, Potter,’ Draco smirked, licking his lips which had gotten very dry. ‘Take off your boxers.’
Harry’s wrists still hurt, but this was no barrier to following Draco’s command. Draco grabbed the boxers from Harry’s hands, raised them to his nose and sniffed. They smelled like the cum he knew, but more pleasant From experience, Draco knew his own cum tasted sweet. Harry’s was too but had a salty tinge to its scent and taste. Draco then discarded the boxers.
‘Shall we begin?’ Draco said.
Both young men were fully naked. Draco got onto his knees, and then climbed on top of Harry. Flesh pressed against flesh, Draco’s body cold; Harry’s hot. Both Harry and Draco felt the most exquisite sensation throughout their whole beings. All anger was forgotten, pain dissolved. Their rivalry was merely a ghost.
Draco pressed his lips against Harry’s and looked up at the jet black hair. Something about it was indescribably attractive to Draco. Harry looked into the hard grey eyes, bold and stern. He raised a hand to Draco’s firm buttocks and squeezed. Draco’s tongue wriggled in Harry’s mouth, along his teeth and round his gums. Then Draco bit down on Harry’s lips, and their eyes met.
It was as though animals had been given fresh meat for the first time. They did not hold back, but pressed violently against each other, not stopping for breath. Draco began to thrust his penis against Harry’s, and Harry gasped, squeezing Draco’s arse harder. They both needed more.
‘Put your head down,’ Draco said.
Harry did so. Draco stood up, turned to face Harry’s feet. Harry looked up at the pale bottom, cheeks tight and strong. Draco sat down on Harry’s face. Harry’s tongue was already out. It slipped into Draco’s hole instinctively and licked. Draco moaned and ran his hands along Harry’s thighs.
‘Dear God,’ he shouted. Harry’s own cock grew harder. Draco saw and ran his hand along it.
But this had ended it’s stiffness.
Something wonderful and heavenly ran from Harry’s stomach right through his cock, its fallout exploding through his whole being. Cum fired from Harry’s penis, hitting the wall of the broom closet. Draco caught some on his hand and tasted it. Underneath Draco’s bottom, Harry gasped for breath. When his body finished writhing, he let Draco sink onto him. Draco removed his arse from Harry’s face and turned to sit on his sweating chest.
‘Cum on me,’ Harry gasped. Harry then grabbed Draco’s cock and began to violently rub the foreskin up and down. Draco called out, ‘fuck, Harry...’ And then the blonde man cummed right onto the Gryffindor’s face. Harry’s face and hair were sticky with it, his mouth swallowing the sweet ejaculation. Draco sank flat onto Harry, both breathing heavily. Harry wrapped his legs around Draco’s slim, strong body, tightening around the arse he had tasted.
‘That’s enough,’ Draco said. He shoved Harry onto the ground then quickly got up. He pulled on his shirt, trousers, socks (he hadn’t used them as a gag; maybe next time, he thought, but then dismissed the possibility) and shoes, and then slid his wand into his pocket.
Harry looked up at the young man who just given him the strongest physical pleasure he had ever received. Draco was about to put on his robes, but then dropped them onto Harry.

Draco kicked Harry aside, and then left the closet, and Harry behind.
Harry lay, his body sticky with sweat and cum, his heart-pounding and his penis flimsy, thinking of the bed that awaited him in Gryffindor tower.
The torn pages of the Marauder’s Map lay forgotten.
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