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.

Chapter List
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I don't usually update this fast, but this story has me hooked. I hope your enjoying this as much I as am. Let me know what you think! ooOOOOOOOOoooooo

Chapter 2: The Savior is Not Coming
ooOOOOOooOOoooo

Draco continued to drift between the darkness of reality and the darkness of his dreams. The cold hands that traversed his body continued their rampage every now and then. Other than the dry sobs and gut wrenching pain that clawed at him periodically, Draco was a survivor. The sound of grunts and the smack of flesh upon flesh rode with Draco as he surfed the wave of consciousness back into the depths of sleep.
The beat of his heart, the quick intake of breath, his own or his tormentors would arouse Draco and then cause him to writhe a few moments later. Shaking, Draco would often curl into himself only to be unfurled by strong arms lifting him. Sometimes they led him to a position for sexual conquest and other times they led him to the free release of his bladder. Shuddering, Draco would gulp down a lukewarm liquid that smelled of just barely edible soup or gruel. Twice a day it would come and Draco would attempt to fight off the foreign hands only to lose and succumb.
“…last name…be forever…Malfoy…Zabini…”
Draco murmured at the sound of hushed whispers. He finally awoke in response to the freezing temperature around him. He froze at the touch of a person he couldn’t see. Growling low, Draco clutched the mattress again in pain and turned away from the stranger. A thin blanket was placed over him. Draco realized that he was naked and continued to shake under the thin veil of warmth offered by the covering. After a moment of silence, the bed creaked and Draco was joined by the foreigner. He tried to move closer to what he assumed to be a wall, but was pulled toward the new stranger.
“I know you don’t like me any more than I do you, but you need this.” The voice sounded so familiar and the warmth was enticing. The bear like grip heated Draco instantly and despite himself, he successfully struggled to turn around into the embrace. Tears formed and ran from ducts that had dried up long ago or so he thought as a result of the many forced sexual conquests from earlier. The visitors seemed to have grown bored with him and Draco had been allowed peaceful sleep for quite some time now.
The sound of such a voice, almost like the voice of a member of his family touched Draco’s heart in a way he never thought possible. The deliciously warm hand laid gently on his back and slowly began to make circles as sobs racked his body. Blaise was never a true friend and little more than a house ally while Draco had been in Slytherin, but he was glad to be imprisoned with him.
ooOOOOooooOOOOooo

“What! What do you mean in a holding cell? Isn’t there anything you can do?” Harry sat outraged staring disbelivingly at Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry hated being silenced and left alone and out of the loop in the goings on of magical politics. It had been little more than two months since the end of the war and he was just finding out about the holding cells.
Glancing around the table wildly, Harry felt like he couldn’t trust the people he held most dear. Arthur and Molly wouldn’t meet his gaze. Neither would Bill or Professor McGonagall.
“We thought it best, to let you recuperate.”
Harry nodded as calmly as he could muster. He wanted them to think he truly understood their position, “Of course, every minor deserves to placed with actual criminals and Death Eaters at that. Hell, why don’t you just send them to Azkaban and throw away the key?!”
“Harry!” Molly replied sharply, her face aghast.
Harry was fuming and he could barely contain his anger with them, with the ministry, with Kingsley, the acting Minister for Magic. “Did you know? You must have, you knew how I’d react!” Harry turned on Hermione who looked subdued next to him. Ron placed a hand over hers in support.
“It’s not our fault, Harry. It was decided without our knowledge as well.” Harry heard Ron’s words, but he knew from his best mate’s gaze that Ron's eyes said that Hermione was to be left out of it. Harry knew enough about Ron’s fist to know that he was barking up the wrong tree. Furious, Harry shoved himself from the table knowing that they would only try to placate him. He stalked his way over to the back door and slammed his way outside.
The sun was setting to the west and he just wanted to be left alone. Raising his wand, pulled from the inside of his sleeve, Harry conjured a broom reminiscent of his firebolt, mounted it and flew off. He needed time to think.
ooOOooo

After what seemed like an hour in the air, high above the trees, Harry slowly descended. A thought occurred to him, he’d seen Luna’s circular house and acted on instinct. He was surprised upon his landing that the house looked intact compared to how he’d left it a few months before in semi-destruction.
“Why hello there Harry,” Luna greeted him as she closed the rounded door behind her. She sounded as if she was expecting him, but Harry hadn’t even decided to land until a few minutes ago.
Luna was wearing a plain light blue jumper and tan trousers. Her pale blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders. Her large eyes were still oddly focused on him yet appeared to be seeing through him.
“Didn’t know you were expecting me,” Harry said earnestly.
“I heard you.”
Harry nodded unsure about what she had heard about him specifically. Did the Weasleys ask Luna to keep an eye out for him? Harry shifted nervously on his feet.
“May I come in Luna?” Harry sighed gratefully as Luna turned back towards the entrance and left the door open for him without a response. Harry pocketed his wand after it shrank back to its normal size and followed her.
The house hadn’t changed much. After declining a cup of tea, Harry followed her up the circular staircase, past the living room and Mr. Lovegood in his study and into her bedroom. The room looked just as Harry remembered it and he was thankful for that. Normalcy was something Harry coveted. The pictures of himself, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville excited something inside of him. Although, he felt that someone was missing. He’d been feeling that a lot recently like there was something he forgot to do.
Settling on some large pillows on the floor Harry found himself suddenly very tired. “You’d think after so many weeks of sleeping and crying I’d be alert for the rest of my life,” Harry mused aloud half heartedly.
“No,” Luna replied, “I don’t think so.” Luna glanced away from him for a moment. Harry yawned and collapsed completely on the bed of pillows, noting how soft they were and how nicely they conformed to his body. Harry closed his eyes and waited for Luna to gather whatever mental points she needed to voice whatever it was she wanted to say to him.
“Draco is in the holding cells, Harry, he shouldn’t be there.”
“I know.” Harry still didn’t want to open his eyes. Draco was the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. So much anger and history between them.
“What are you thinking about doing?”
“About him?”
“Yes, about him. I’ve written to Kingsley and Father has mentioned it in the Quibbler. So far, nothing productive has been done. The trials are going in alphabetical order. M is very far down on the list Harry.”
Raising his arm so that the crook of his elbow was covering his nose and eyes, Harry moaned is a mock distressed manner. “I yelled at everyone about that. Kingsley says there nothing he can do. No one will let me leave to talk some sense into the ministry officials. You’d think that the Savior would have some influence right?” Harry chuckled sardonically to himself.
Silence reigned heavily in the room. Harry felt so powerless. Here he was master of the elder wand, the invisible cloak and the resurrection stone (although he'd purposely lost it) and there was nothing he could do to stop this madness. Soft humming fell on Harry’s ears and he was eager to once again embrace the comfort it offered. Who kept humming and how did they know that it pacified him so?
Harry lowered his arm and curled into himself remembering calling Kreacher for a nice sandwich of all things after telling Hermione and Ron about his adventure into the Forbidden Forest to face his death. Dumbledore’s portrait had been tearfully congratulating him. He’d been able to see his mother and his father and Sirius and Remus one final time. If Harry let himself think about it for too long, he knew that the emptiness inside of him was still there. The war was won, but he was no happier no closer to feeling any more fulfilled than before. Dark eyes floated before his closed eyelids and Harry realized they were the eyes of his long time protector and professor: Snape. Harry had never given him a chance. Then again they’d both been at fault for their behavior to one another. But Harry couldn’t let go. Severus Snape had given his life for Harry’s and how had Harry repaid him? By allowing Draco, Snape’s godson to be committed to an -albeit brief- internment in the holding cells. Harry was continuing the legacy of pain between them.
Morbid fascination drew Harry to his former enemy. He was a legal adult wizard now. He was old enough to decide for himself without too much prejudice blinding him that Draco was as much a victim as Harry was himself. Harry couldn’t help the fact that he was alone in the world save close friends who were like his family and Draco, who’s family was so intertwined with the evil that had been defeated that it would be hard for the ministry to discern his innocence. Harry knew that he would vouch for him as soon as the Malfoy name came up. It would be a few more weeks, depending on how long it took for each trial to convene and either innocence or guilt to be proven. The ministry had the absurd idea of going in alphabetical order. They didn’t even take age into account. Not that it mattered. There were no wizards under the consenting age in the holding cells, but there were plenty of Hogwarts’ nearly graduated seventh year Slytherins in there. Draco was one among many.
ooOOOOoooooOOOooOOOoooOOOo

Draco felt that same pull again and the warmth was gone. He thought in his distant mind that a scuffle was occurring and he slowly rolled over until he was at the edge of his bed. Without sitting up and causing unwanted dizziness, Draco eased one leg over the side and wished for more light in the dark cell. His eyesight had been able to pick up a slight change in the room every once in a while, but overall it was still poor. He was still much too tired to sit up although the cramping had lessened. His breathing was even. He was still unclothed.
Cold feet pressed firmly onto the solid cold stone floor beneath him as Draco attempted to steady himself into an upright position. Instead of landing the other foot successfully when he tried to stand, Draco fell to the floor. Hands at first supportive steadied him from his face planted position to a more upright position on his knees. Draco's breath hitched when the hands did not release him upon him finding firmly set on his knees. They coveted him again and Draco reached for Blaise blindly. The hands were so different, rough, calloused. Gulping the stale chilled air, Draco pulled away in distress leaning forward. The hands separated. One rested at his belly holding him in place and the other worked up and down his left thigh.
All Draco could hear was a stranger's heavy breathing, shivering at the foreign touch, Draco pulled away. The tightening of the hands around him made Draco wonder where Zabini was and why he would let this happen? Just as his legs were parted causing Draco to lose balance again, he felt the same cramping in his stomach. His heart was beating fast. Perspiration was forming at his brow and under his arms. After so long without a proper bath, Draco was sure he reeked. He feverishly leaned forward and was allowed to press his forehead into the mattress. He turned his head to the side. It didn’t matter if he fought back, like all the other times before Draco knew the assailant would have his way. Each time this occurred it was as if Zabini was removed from existence for all his lack of aid.
Tears fell freely from Draco’s eyes dampening the thin mattress beneath him. Squeezing his eyes shut, Draco waited for the inevitable and he wasn’t disappointed. The hand holding his torso steadied him as he was pressed further into the mattress, he could hear the springs squeal as if under assault. The rugged breathing from behind him accelerated. Wet lips sucked his right earlobe as the wandering hands located his heat and stretched him raw before indulging. Draco tried to visualize his mother's face or his favorite pastime, lounging in the Slytherin common room telling discriminatory jokes to a laughing rapt audience. Both attempts failed as his own prick was grasped and pumped. Jumping from the inclusion, Draco gasped and clawed the surface of the mattress.
Whispering ‘no’, Draco knew he was aroused against his will. This knowledge did not impede the heightened exclamations of subdued pleasure from his lips as his voice returned to him. Nor did it stop the obvious enjoyment his rapist was taking from his forced acquisition. The hand on his belly moved upward, pulling him into an upright position, the agony that ripped through his stomach seared Draco anew. Inhaling sporadically, Draco heard the harsh whispers of his tormentor, “You know you like it. Fucking whore.”
As the thrusting began with renewed vigor, Draco’s whimpers became more high pitched as he felt his assailant hit something that reverberated a feeling of ecstasy intense enough to push the pain from his stomach to the background of his mind. Again, and again he was thrust into and Draco cried out to his tormentor in compliance. Draco knew that he was coming and the session was at an end when he was lowered. Draco ignored the slick semen left inside of him when he his rapist left him alone. The man had deposited him back against the bed after moving away to adjust himself. Draco hadn’t ejaculated and it was with a harsh laugh that his rapist purposely grabbed his prick and pumped it to near ejaculation. Only when his moans showcased his nearness did the hand disappear and Draco was unceremoniously lifted and dumped back onto his bed.
Trembling with rage and disgust, Draco found the wall and curled up against it. Without the protection of the blanket that he'd lost or the heat of his tormentor, Draco grew cold. The pain in his belly was back again it raged within him as it pulsed causing a headache to emerge. Breathing shallowly, Draco could feel that his erection was not abating and he moaned softly wondering vaguely if he’d have to touch himself where those nasty foreign hands had been. The thought was a stray one and disappeared as he was joined yet again by none other than his missing comrade.
“Enjoy the show?” Draco quietly whispered dejectedly. Solid warm arms wrapped around him and Draco didn’t move to welcome or throw them off. Zabini pressed himself firmly against Draco’s back and reached over grasping Draco’s hardened length.
Draco tried not to move or make a sound letting on how grateful he was to his fellow prisoner. The feel of a gentle hand that moved with delicate precision was comforting. He rested for a while in the warm embrace and allowed a small smile of satisfaction to grace his face when he was finally given release. Drifting into a troubled yet tired slumber, Draco tried to remember why he was where he was.
“The fever’s returning, isn’t it?” He heard a foreign voice utter as he drifted like a sailor slowly losing sight of his boat as he drifted further and further into the depths of the sea with only a lifesaver keeping him afloat.
ooOOOOoooOOOoooOOOOoOOOOooOOOooOOO

“Morning,” Harry’s eyes fluttered open at the greeting. Luna. What was Luna doing in his room? Why was she at the Burrow? Did something happen?
“The war’s over Harry, you won. Remember?” Luna sat back and tilted her head to the side. For some reason, Luna greeted him with the same line every morning.
Rising slowly, Harry wiped the saliva that had collected at the side of his mouth. He’d been hiding out at Luna’s for four days. He was surprised that she hadn’t grown tired of his angry tirades and outbursts of hatred to the ministry and to his own perceived powerlessness. Mr. Lovegood murmured about odd energy in the room being the result of some strange rare –most likely imaginary- magical creature. He often left in the morning for a walk, although Harry suspected him of visiting the Burrow.
Hermione had come tearfully with a copy of Severus Snape’s will which Harry had been unable to read the other day. Although Ron didn’t accompany her, Harry was sure that he’d never hear the end of it if he started anything with her. So, he silently and hatefully snatched the sealed parchment from her fingertips and slammed the door in her face only to have Luna open it and attempt to invite the lone Gryffindor in for tea. Harry had sulked the rest of the morning before opening it to discover that Snape had left him everything: Spinners End, his coveted possessions inside of Hogwarts, even access to his Gringotts bank account. The only off-putting part about the inheritance aside from the obvious history of their rivalry was Snape’s request that he and his godson, Draco Malfoy were to share it.
Draco had inherited half of the property. Draco who was still imprisoned in a holding cell. Draco who was utterly defenseless against the evils and mistreatment of the ministry. Draco Malfoy, Harry’s sworn enemy since first year. Harry had gone to bed that night terribly upset and upon waking, he felt no better. The Malfoy’s cases would be heard in the coming weeks and he needed a plan.
Gazing into Luna’s large eyes, he found something surprising. A calculating look was passed between them and Harry knew what Luna had heard before he arrived. She had heard his heart.
ooOOoo

R&R I'm going through the story proof reading and adding a little here and there. Chapters have been redone if the there are inserted horizontal lines breaking the story into segments.
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