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Poison	By : Ally Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2592 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 1
TITLE: Poison

AUTHOR: Allocin

SUMMARY: Harry's rescue is too late for him, and it is up to Severus to take care of him now.

RATING: NC17

CATEGORIES: Hurt-Comfort/Angst

CHARACTERS: HP, SS

TIMELIME: AU, 6th Year-ish

AUTHOR'S NOTES: My first smut piece in 3 years. My first m/m smut piece ever. Comments greatly appreciated.

TECHNICAL: Italics are song lyrics.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'Harry Potter' or 'Poison'. Don't sue.

INSPIRATION: 'Poison' by Alice Cooper, and my friend Shei.

Poison

When you went missing the summer before your Sixth Year, kidnapped on your way home from King's Cross, no one knew what to do. The wizarding world was thrown into turmoil and not even Dumbledore could keep the chaos at bay. 'Where is the Boy Who Lived?' they cried, 'Where is our saviour?' Nobody knew, and it remained a mystery up until the following Christmas.

My duties as chief spy in Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters continued, and it was through those breached meetings that we learnt who had taken you, and where. I had never seen the Headmaster so close to tears as he did when I told him the news.

"Held at Malfoy Manor, you say?" he had repeated in grave tones, his face lined with more stress than one man is made to carry. I had left him to stew in his own thoughts, burrowing into the welcome retreat of my dungeons, where I fumed for the rest of the night. I myself had been on the receiving end of Lucius' wand - and other toys - on more than one occasion, I knew it was painful to put it mildly. But that had only been for sport, for fun, a petty game of his. You would have had it a thousand times worse.

"Oh Potter, what have you gotten yourself into?" I had muttered, tossing back another shot of gin.

Dumbledore wasted no time in assembling an assault force from the Order. In less than three days plans had been made and the team penetrated Malfoy Manor. Lucius and Narcissa were arrested, but thankfully Draco was at school over the holiday. The wizards who retrieved you didn't speak of what they saw, except to say they found you in the dungeons. I know what the dungeons are like. I could imagine the sight they found.

You were wrapped up safe in the Hospital Wing on Christmas Eve.

Poppy worked tirelessly on you, missing her scheduled sleep in favour of sealing, dejinxing, fusing and mending. You were terribly scarred when she had finished, but the severe bruising had gone and you were no longer on the brink of death. To give her a break, and because I have some degree of healing training due to being a Potions Master, I sat with you the following night, allowing Poppy to sleep.

You woke on Christmas Day with a wailing cry.

The name on your lips was 'Lucius'.

Though your physical diagnosis was promising, mentally you were beyond repair. The psychoanalyst left the Wing with tears in her eyes after no more than five minutes in your company. Poppy cared for you as best she could, but it fell to me to keep you company during the long hours you were awake. It took a long time for you to fall into a regular sleeping pattern, but it was still abnormal enough to disrminemine.

It was decided that it would be best not to send you to St. Mungo's, where the journalists could get to you, and where you would have to deal with unknown doctors. But moving you out of the sanctuary of the Hospital Wing and into my quarters was taxing at best. Poppy was uncharacteristically glad to see the back of you, and I was rather surprised when the Headmaster did not come to see you off. I paid it little mind, as dealing with you was hard enough. You were like an over-excited child, examining the corridors with infantile enthusiasm, grinning for no particulaasonason, eyes sparkling with the innocence of youth.

Those green eyes, glinting in the sunlight like crushed emeralds, scared most people away. Though they looked pure and benign, deep in them lurked a sinister and twisted piece of yourself, wild and frightening. It would surface occasionally, briefly overtaken the cheeky cherub vision of your face. One moment you could be giggling harmlessly, the next you would be toying with a sharp knife that you had conjured wandlessly. Those who visited avoided looking at you, and when they became unsettled they left soon enough. It was fine with me; the dungeons provided me with peace and quiet, even with your juvenile antics.

I had tucked you into bed that night, sweet and innocent in the candlelight. You presented the perfect picture of angelic goodness, and I almost smiled at the delicate soss oss of your face. Lucius had left no scars to mar your features there.

At first I thought I was dreaming when I felt a biting pain in my chest.

I froze beneath the burning sensation, but slowly I came awake to the feel of my blood leaving crimson rivers across my ribcage. There was a dead weight resting across my hips and thighs, and a small, Quidditch-roughened hand held me still beneath the torturous movements of the blade.

"H-Harry," I stuttered. The look on your face was of the utmost reverence as you carved random patterns into my flesh, tender yet firm, full bottom lip drawn between your teeth in concentration. Despite my best efforts my hips bucked lightly, pressing the hardness there into your ass. You gasped, head falling back with a deep sigh, before those green eyes locked on miThe The knife was back in my chest, pain lancing along my nerves, mingling with sudden, unexpected pleasure as you bent and latched your mouth onto a nipple, at the same time grinding your hips with mine. Sharp teeth bit, a tongue laved, all the while pointed nails gouged long lines over my stomach.

Somehow I managed to force a strangled whimper past the constriction in my throat. You looked up, shattered eyes locking with mine as that pink tongue snaked out and drew across my abused torso, following the lines my spilt blood had taken greedily. I watched, transfixed, as your lips paved deceptively gentle kisses down the centre of my torso, nipping and sucking at the flesh laid beneath you. A noise of hunger pd ind in your throat.

The knife stroked up and down my flanks, barely scratching the surface as your hand delved beneath the waistband of my pyjama bottoms, callused fingers wrapping deftly around my straining cock. I flexed into your willing hand, breath escaping me in a drawn-out hiss. Part of me was convinced it was a dream, a beautiful, strange dream; the other part of me was lost in the feel of your fingers squeezing and caressing my erection expertly. Suddenly I felt a light breeze, air blown delicately over my straining cock. My hips bucked despite me, and I tried to ignore your childish giggle. Then there was blissful wet heat engulfing me, your tormenting pink tongue working magic as teeth scraped up my length. Your small hands cupped my balls with confidence, but at the time I wasn't concerned with where you had learnt your skills.

Hands in your messy black hair, twisting and clenching, yet you doggedly persisted. I was dizzy with blood loss, so when I came - powerfully, into the welcoming abyss of your mouth - the suction forced me into unconsciousness. It didn't take long for me to come back to the land of the living, with your knife slicing into the skin of my naked thighs. Your overactive tongue followed the streams of blood, lapping up the drops like a cat. I pulled you away from the weeping wounds, arranging you to lie on my chest.

It wasn't long before your hips began to rock, rubbing your hardness against my leg. Mind blown from my orgasm, but already coming back to myself with a sense of guilty doom, I was passive beneath you, but I could feel blood pounding into my cock again. It rose traitorously to meet you. You gasped as it pressed into your inner thigh, hips losing their rhythm and thrusting erratically. I couldn't help but stare at the grimace of pleasure on your face, a blush in your cheeks and your eyes closed to simply feel the ecstasy coursing through your veins. I could feel the wet warmth staining your pyjamas as you came, calling breathlessly,

"Lucius!"

Green eyes glinted demonically in the dark of my chambers, eyeing me with feral satisfaction. You bent and left one last bite to my chest, licking away traces of blood, before you climbed off both the bed and me. You seemed to walk from the room a bit unsteadily, but were the vision of confident fulfilment as you stood in the doorway, glowing golden from the candlelight outside. You looked over your shoulder at me, eyes roving over my abused body, a smirk twisting your lips. Then you were gone. Only the draft from the open doorway and the burn in my skin convinced me it hadn't been a figment of my imagination.

You came to me every night after that, sometimes with a knife, sometimes with a potion from my own stores, sometimes just you. I don't know why I let you hurt me, why I was motionless beneath you as you brought me to orgasm over andr agr again, my white come painting your scarred body, but I did. The morning would find me staring at the reflection in the mirror, a mosaic of colourful bruises and teeth marks, nail scratches and knife slices, occasionally a burn. When you followed, doing no more than rub yourself against my leg, it was always 'Lucius' on your lips, and a part of me was jealous.

"Lucius!"

"Lucius!"

"Lucius!"

In your insane way, you were showing me what he had done to you, but there was always an edge of gentleness to your actions; you never meant me true harm, as he meant you. I would heal myself swiftly and put the night behind me, but I could never look Granger or Weasley in the eyes again.

Your cruel deep eyes

Your blood, like ice

One look could kill

My pain, your thrill

Your reaction to the Headmaster was surprising, to say the least, when he confronted me about our night-time activities. You locked your cracked eyes with his as sharp nails raked down my arm, drawing blood. You made sure he watched as you leaned down, tongue laving firmly over the abused flesh, smearing the blood over your chin. I could feel the cold rage radiating from you, though I had never thought you would understand what the Headmaster was saying. I have learnt since that you understand when you want to. Suffice to say, Dumbledore exited immediately, and didn't return to the dungeons for a long time after. The celebration of this new side to your possession of me lasted for hours, and left my skin mottled with bites.

I wanna love you but I better not touch (Don't touch)

I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop

I wanna kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)

I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison

You're poison running through my veins

You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains

Tonight you have me chained to the bed, heavy shackles locked firmly around my wrists. The cold metal bites into my skin, but all I have to do is look at the deeply engraved scars around yours and it doesn't matter so much. You climb onto the bed, straddling my naked waist and wriggling. A groan escapes me as my head falls back onto the pillow, hair fanning out haphazardly. Unexpectedly you run your fingers through it, gently teasing out the knots. I force my eyes open to watch the reverent expression on your face. If I didn't know aetteetter, I would say it was love.

I lean up to kiss you, to take away that frightening look, but the chains aren't long enough to let me. You grin at me, pushing my shoulders back onto the bed and pressing your mouth hungrily to mine, nipping and sucking at my lips with violent fervour. The kisses trail down my jaw, to my neck. You pay particularly attention to my jugular, biting in time to my racing heartbeat. All the while, your fingers are not idle, roaming over my chest, pinching at my nipples, scratching over my ribs and down my flanks. Your knees dig into my hips where they grip me, preventing them from bucking into you.

You pull back, and my eyes open to see what you do next. With a wave of your hand you summon a candle from the bracket on the wall. A smile ghosts over your face as you breathe a fire into life. I stare, hypnotised. The scent of smoke fills the room. You hold the candle over my chest, and the wax drips. It scolds, and I hiss, instinctively trying to move away from it. Your legs only clamp harder. More wax drips, sliding sluggishly over my skin as it begins to harden. Your tongue follows, as expressive as always, soothing the aggrieved flesh with cool strokes. You repeat the actions, until I don't writhe so much with pain but more with pleasure.

Then you go lower, dripping candle wax onto my erect cock. A scream lodges in my throat, my hips bucking wildly into air. Your firm hand holds me still, and without any preamble you swallow me whole.

Your mouth, so hot

Your web, I'm caught

Your skin, so wet

Black lace on sweat

Burning heat encasing me, the centre of my universe, my whole life, found within the dark cavern of your mouth. It feels hotter than the wax, but I don't care. Entranced, I watch your b hea head bob up and down on my shaft. Your eyes flick up to meet mine as you work, black meeting green, and I can fmy bmy balls tighten in preparation for release. You pull away, and the cold dungeon air wraps around my bereft cock. I whimper, so close to release. In your hand suddenly appears a length of lace, black as your hair. You tie it around my cock, not too tight but tight enough to prevent my coming. I gasp, thrusting uselessly against your arm, desperate for the friction even though it makes me ache more.

The candle is back, melted wax dribbling onto my erection, followed by your deft tongue, slurping as it eagerly licks me clean. Over and over and over again, until my head is thrashing on the pillows and I'm moaning constantly. You hum over the head of my cock, and I wish I could come right then. The lace tie digs into the base of my erection, the pressure building behind it.

You slither up my body, licking and nipping the flesh beneath you on your way, paying particular attention to the red burn marks where the candle wax fell, until you are perched on my chest. Your cock protrudes stubbornly, proud and painful, and I would give anything to take it into my mouth and suck you until you are dry. Jagged nails rip down my outstretched arms, irritating the skin and sending blood pulsing to my erection, thrusting wildly into nothing.

"H-Har � Please," I hear myself beg, my voice taut, every muscle in my body tense. My nerves feel aflame, fire burning through my veins. It's unbearable. Reality intrudes slightly when the dead weight of your body disappears, and I squint through blurred vision. You are balanced on your knees, frowning in concentration as you lower yourself painfully slowly onto my shaft. No stretching, no lubrication, just straight down.

I nearly pass out from the feel of being in such a hot, tight hole. You groan, softly, a minor tremble in your throat as you sink lower and lower, until I'm buried to the hilt. I don't move, waiting with bated breath for some sign. Hands brace on my chest, slippery with sweat and saliva, and you rise again, eyes squeezed tight shut. Your rhythm increases, and I thrust with you in earnest, all too aware of the lace tied around my cock. Perspirations glows on you like a second skin, shining in the dim light of the room, accenting the deep grooves of your scars. I bend my head to lick and nip at your wrist, which you move closer to my mouth so I can continue my ministrations in a better position. Your breaths come in short pants, you're getting closer to the edge. Hands fumble with the knottace,ace, at least you haven't forgotten, and we're surging together, harder and faster, uncaring of pain or pleasure, needing only release.

"Lucius! Lucius! Lucius!"

I hear you calling and it's needles and pins (And pins)

I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name

Don't wanna touch you but you're under my skin (Deep in)

I wanna kiss you but your lips are venomous poison

You're poison running through my veins

You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains

Poison

My orgasm is powerful - you did your work well - but I cannot help my anger. You always call out to him, every night, have done so for months now, and it echoes piercingly in my ears. I know I should not care, that I have no possession over you as you do over me, but if my hands were not restrained I would dig my naintointo your flesh, see if that makes you bellow for me instead.

You ride out the last wavespleapleasure, mouth hanging open slightly. Were I not restrained I would kiss you too, but if I do I should be lost. The chains clink as I relax against the pillows, waiting for you to move. You stay perfectly still for longer than normal, a small frown creasing your smooth forehead.

"Harry," I murmur when my legs begin to go numb. Your eyes open, glimmering intensely in the dark of the room. You get off me as if dismounting a horse, but do not head towards the door as you usually do. Pausing only to banish the chains with a wave of your hand, you press an almost chaste kiss to my cheek. I look into your eyes, and though there still prowls that glint of something disturbed, you seem to be expressing a plea.

'Have patience with me'.

Then you turn and make your way to your room on unsteady legs. You give me the customary once over before exiting, but I'm sure it's not just my imagination when I sense an air of sadness to the glance. My anger flees me, and I resign myself to exhausted sleep.

One look could kill

My pain, your thrill

I wanna love you but I better not touch (Don't touch)

I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop

I wanna kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)

I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison

You're poison running through my veins

You're poison, I don't wanna break these chains

Poison

The change in you is brought more forcefully to my attention when you do not come to me the next night. Instead I find myself padding quietly to your room. You are awake; I can hear you pacing behind the closed door. I knock and it creaks open beneath my hand. You grin at me as I enter. Your eyes seem especially wild tonight. Taking me by the hand, you guide me to your bed, knocking me on my back. Mouth on mine, tongues duelling, but I can feel the change more deeply. You have ceded control tonight. I test this revelation by rolling over, trapping you beneath me. There is panic in your bright wide eyes, but you are suppressing it. I admire you for that. I slow our pace, turning the passionate kiss into something altogether more relaxed. My tongue traces your lips before moving further along your jaw, kissing and nipping lightly at your sweet skin. Your arms wrap around my neck in acquiescence.

I move down your neck, careful to be as tender as possible as I pop open the buttons of your pyjamas. Fingers and lips map your exposed skin, tracing the crisscrossing network of scars with utmost awe. How did you survive it? The months locked in his dungeons, subjected to his every whim, tormented beyond all reason. I glance up at your face, at your starry, wondering eyes, and realise you didn't survive. Not really; you simply retreated into yourself.

Your fingers stroke my cheek, matching the smile on your face perfectly. I take your infingfinger into my mouth, nibbling at the callused skin, locking my gaze with yours as I swirl my tongue over and under the digit. Your head thumps back against the pillow, and I know I have you now.

My lips dance just above the waistband of your pyjama buttons, warning you of where I'm going to go. You lift your hips obediently, allowing me to slide your trousers off with no problem. Greeting me is your cock, the large mass of hard flesh that I have been aching tste sincsince I first laid eyes on it. My mouth feels quite suddenly dry, and I lick my lips. I can feel your eyes watching, staring, as I circle the purple head with my tongue like I had your finger. Your breath comes in pants, filling the quiet of the room until it resounds in my head, urging me on. I widen my mouth, readjust my tongue and take you in deeper, as deep as I can.

You jerk, hips bucking into my face, but I quickly hold you down, beginning a rhythmic suction on your cock. I cup your balls in one hand, the other keeping your hips still. My long hair brushes your thighs, and I can hear you stifle a giggle. I'm glad; I don't want to think of that right now. Bobbing up and down, I can feel your balls tighten in my hand. You are close, and I feel giddy apprehension weave through my gut - I've never tasted you like this before. I increase my pace, applying slight pressure with my teeth.

With a shout you come, spurting into the back of my throat. I suck at you greedily, wanting to savour every last drop you provide. It is an acquired taste, but yours I could live with. Your cock falls from my mouth, softening in the cool dungeon air. I lie beside you, stretched out and free to move, for once. You look up at me as your fingers brush tantalising patterns on my side.

"Alright?" I ask softly. You smile at me, giggling childishly. The sound grates, but I ignore it with practice. You roll onto your side, mimicking me in propping yourself up on your elbow. From beneath your lashes I can see your mischievous eyes focusing on my lips. We draw together, kissing unhurriedly. You fall back beneath me as I roll above you, tongues touching and caressing w. Yo. Your cock is rapidly hardening against my thigh, and mine was not relieved in the first place. One of us rocks against the other, starting a lazy rubbing only stopped when we break from our intimate kiss.

You hold beneath my nose a small bottle, from my own stores. I recognise it immediately, and take rom rom your hand. Swiftly I dip in my fingers, coating them in the viscous fluid. Your legs curl upwards obediently, revealing the opening that has pleasured me these long months. It looks deceptively small, but that doesn't stop me from teasing it with a finger, circling the entrance until it is slick with lubrication. I penetrate, and your muscles clench about me, but you relax quickly enough and I continue preparing you, circling and rubbing, adding one finger, and then another. You are soon writhing beneath me, thrusting onto my hand, face flushed and eyes clenched shut. You mouth something, I cannot tell what, but I can take a hint. Quickly I coat my own cock in the substance, forcing myself not to thrust into my own hand. I position myself over you, catching your eyes and holding them.

Thrusting into your tight heat is a gift I treasure, but I make sure not to lose control. I would likthinthing better than to simply pound you into the mattress, but this isn't about me. It never has been. I move slowly, easing into you gently, forcing my eyes open so I can see the look on your face. Pleasure alights your features, steals my breath away, and I lean down to kiss you, to see if I can taste the pleasure in you. I draw back out, purposely angling against your prostate. You roll your hips, and I nearly lose control. That felt good.

We settle into an effortless rhythm, rocking back and forth in synchronicity. The pleasure flows through us, around us, powerful and deep. I can feel it reverberating in my bones, and coil in the pit of my stomach, building and building until our pace is frantic, bucking against each other. Your hand is pumping your own cock, and mine covers yours, so we work you together, going faster and faster until I can see stars and someone is bellowing as my release floods into you. I hear another voice, yours, calling out,

"Sssseverussssss."

Said with such sibilance I'm sure it must be Parseltongue. After a long moment dedicated to regaining some semblance of control, I roll onto my side, breathless and spent. You clean the come from your stomach with a gesture of your hand before turning to face me. Fingers thread through my hair, and I thought I saw a glimpse of the real Harry, the one we knew from Fifth Year and before. But as soon as I see it, the deranged expression appears again, eyes glinting with madness. You curl up against my side, giggling to yourselt sht shreds my insides to hear it, even more so when I hear you singing softly to yourself.

I wrap you in my arms, holding you close as sleep draws ever nearer, and wonder what I have done in coming to you out of choice. My life is locked with yours forever now, and the taste of you is still on my lips like the lingering taint of poison. P>I wanna love you but I better not touch (Don't touch)

I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop

I wanna kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)

I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison, yeah

I don't wanna break these chains

Poison, oh no

Runnin' deep inside my veins,

Burnin' deep inside my veins

It's poison

I don't wanna break these chains

Poison
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Poison