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What happens at Malfoy Manor stays at Malfoy Manor	By : dime Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 15785 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the world and characters of Harry Potter. I make no money with this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
A/N: This chapter is the most consensual of the lot. Also, it involves a lot of posing and grandstanding. Gosh, I love those boys! :P
3. Harry
He went from unconscious to high alert within the fraction of a second. It took but another fraction to parse the information his senses perceived about his circumstances: Darkness. Scent of stone and a hint of mildew. Icy cold, hard floor. Face no longer swollen, other injuries healed as well. Feeling better rested than he had in months, but still tired. Scar not hurting. Footsteps echoing beyond his door.
Within about a second of waking, Harry knew exactly where he was: locked up in a dungeon in Malfoy Manor, alone, with someone approaching his cell at a brisk pace, but no Voldemort anywhere near. His hands shackled to the wall next to his head, having forced him to sleep sitting up, were kind of a dead give-away, too. Yet he further noticed he had been healed, after the Malfoys had obliviated every other person that had seen them.
The question remained, why? Draco Malfoy had lied to protect them, or so it seemed. He could somewhat see his annoying classmate switching sides, but really - his father? Maybe not all of the Malfoys were on their side? Or if the opposite was true and they were, then why was he in a dungeon? Probably, he concluded, the Malfoys were playing both sides, like Snape used to do, and no one but themselves would know exactly what their agenda was until the day they died. Maybe not even then.
The footsteps that had woken him stopped in front of his cell door. The door creaked open and in came Draco Malfoy. The smug wanker looked down on Harry with a self-satisfied smirk. Harry warily watched the potions phial in his hand as the lean, fashion-aware dandy approached with swaggering, arrogant steps. In other circumstances, Harry might even have appreciated the show he was putting on just for him. Now, however, he was a lot more concerned with the question of whether what looked like an innocuous pepper-up potion might not be something else entirely.
Malfoy noticed his looks and the smirk widened. "Scared, Potter?" he asked mockingly.
"You wish." Harry nearly smirked himself at the familiar banter, but the smirk was wiped off his face before it could fully form. Malfoy had taken another step forward, bringing him into grabbing range, and pinched his nose shut. His other hand tipped the potion into Harry's mouth, forcefully holding the phial in place and preventing Harry from breathing around it. Harry angrily struggled for a bit, but eventually had to concede defeat. The potion went down his gullet like fire.
Then, a gratifying cloud of steam exited his ears. Harry tried to mask his relief at finding out it had indeed been nothing more sinister than a pepper-up potion. No sense in admitting any weakness in front of the person who appeared to hold all the cards while Harry himself was shackled helplessly to the wall of a cold, dark dungeon cell.
Harry coughed a little when his mouth and nose were released, then proceeded to glare at Malfoy. "What the hell was that?"
The left corner of Malfoy's mouth turned down in disdain. "Your friends will be allowed to sleep off all of their exhaustion. But I am awake now, and I did not feel like waiting for you to finish your beauty sleep. However, I also do not wish for you to be too tired to pay proper attention to me. Hence the potion."
Harry did not know what kind of attention Malfoy might be talking about and tried not to let his annoyance show when his traitorous, hormone-ridden teenaged body decided that it liked having Malfoy's attention focused on it. Instead, he focused on the fact that Malfoy had referred to Ron and Hermione in future tense, so they were still alive; and well, at that, if Malfoy could be believed. Of course he couldn't; but until Harry had proof to the contrary, he would still choose to believe in what Malfoy had told him. Ron and Hermione were alive and well somewhere in this manor; any other possibility was simply not an option.
"What do you need my attention for?" Harry decided to ask straight-out.
"I have some questions," Malfoy said, measuring him with a calculating look. "I need you to answer them completely and truthfully."
Harry snorted. "Uh-huh. Like I would voluntarily give you any information."
"These ones you will," Malfoy told him. The serious, focused tone of his voice made Harry sit up straighter. "First: If I can guarantee that you leave this manor alive and well without falling into His hands - do you have a chance at defeating him?"
Harry hesitated. If Malfoy was still on the opposing team, Harry's best bet would be feigning incompetence and fear, pretending to be no danger at all. However... that look in Malfoy's grey eyes, and that slight trembling in his voice told a different story. Harry felt the line of his mouth firming along with his resolve. "I will end him. Even at the cost of my own life."
Malfoy nodded, once. His shoulders relaxed and a mild smirk stole onto his lips. "Then I can promise you this, Potter: You will leave this manor alive and in better shape than you entered it. Any harm that may befall you while here will be fully healed before you go, and we will make sure you do not meet anyone undesirable on your way out."
Harry heard the sincerity beyond the smirk and after what had come before, he was not truly surprised. There was one point in this speech, however, that stuck out as a bit odd. "Any harm that may befall me?"
Malfoy's smirk widened and he leaned in closer. Bending his knees until they came down to the dungeon floor between Harry's spread legs - which were still solidly shackled to said floor, preventing him from closing them to protect his tender bits - he rested his hands on Harry's shoulders and breathed into his ear: "Now here comes my second question: Are you a virgin, Potter?"
Harry's cheeks flushed hot and his body took entirely too much notice of Malfoy's closeness. He could see perfectly well, now, where this was going.
Malfoy wanted him to defeat Voldemort, so he would let him leave in one piece.
But Malfoy also wanted him. Any leaving on Harry's part would only be done after Malfoy got what he wanted. Harry was currently without a wand, tied up, and utterly alone. Hermione and Ron, according to Malfoy, were unharmed, but sleeping - and certainly not anywhere close by. They would not come to rescue him. Neither would the elder Malfoys, that much was obvious from Malfoy's talk and bearing. They approved of this.
Malfoy wanted him. And Malfoy would have him.
There was exactly one emotion that gripped Harry above all others at that thought: lust. Slowly, he raised his head which he had previously hung in embarrassment. Malfoy drew his head back just enough to look at Harry's flushed face, but kept close enough that Harry could feel his cool breath on his cheek. He inhaled slowly, savouring the fancy scent of Malfoy's mouthwash, then exhaled just as slowly. Then he let a smirk of his own blossom on his lips.
"Yes. But I am sure you will help me change that."
Malfoy lost the smirk and blinked owlishly. But Harry did not give him a chance to recover. Instead, he kept the hits coming. "I assume from my position in the dungeon, despite your assertions that I will leave in good health - that you are kinky as fuck. You could have just as easily kept me in a guest room, couldn't you? But you chose this. You chose to have me tied up in a dark room, where you can look down on me, feel superior to me, and use me as you please. Am I right?"
Malfoy's deep, answering flush said it all. Still, he spoke up. "I prefer the term 'open-minded'," he said snottily.
Harry snorted in amusement, but then he scowled. "I have a suspicion that I will not survive the end of this war. Do not mistake me, I will defeat the Dark Bastard, but I rather doubt I will outlive him by much. As such, anything good I can still have in this life, I wish to take. Who knows what will come after?"
The intense look was back in his eyes, which focused entirely on Malfoy, who gulped. "So. I want this to be special. If this is going to happen, there will be rules, and you damn well better keep them, or by Merlin, I will come back to haunt you."
Malfoy's face openly betrayed his doubts, wavering between a sneer and puzzlement. He clearly couldn't decide if he should just override Harry's wishes and take what he wanted without further delay, or listen to Harry's wishes - which might include a real bed, kisses and fluffy bunnies for all he knew. In the end, Malfoy twisted his lips in a moue of distaste, and regally demanded: "Let's hear them, then."
Harry's smirk never wavered. "Very well. Here we go. You will cast a monitoring charm, and whenever that charm tells you that I am seriously unwell, you will stop."
Malfoy nodded. This, he could do; it was a very reasonable request.
Harry continued. "Outside of that charm, however, I want you to pull all the stops." His smirk widened even as his breaths became shorter. "I want you to take me like you mean it. Hurt me, fuck me, use me. Make me scream. I want you to wipe this fucking dungeon floor with me. I want you to make me beg and cry, take me to a place where 'no' means 'yes' and 'please' means 'harder'."
Malfoy's pupils had dilated while Harry spoke. His hands dug into Harry's shoulders like claws.
Harry lost the smirk, his smouldering eyes boring deeply into Malfoy's. "You will take responsibility so I will have none. Leave me no room to say or do or decide anything on my own. When I walk out of here, it will all have been you. Your fantasies, your actions, your perverted ideas. I am just your puppet, your tool. A hole for your use. I will have perfect plausible deniability, for I had not a chance in hell to resist you."
Malfoy frowned even as he was visibly shaking with desire. "Why do you want this?"
The smirk returned. "Because I wish to let go completely. I do not want to second-guess myself, or my performance. I don't want to worry if I do things right, or what my friends will say. I just want to feel, for once, and not think. Can you do that?" The challenge in his eyes was both mocking and intensely serious. "Can you make me forget this fucking war for just this one day? Make me forget who I am, who I am destined to kill? Can you make this good?"
Malfoy slowly retreated, stood up; took a step back. He mutely stared at his school yard enemy of nearly seven years, shackled to the wall in the Malfoy dungeons and tasking him, Draco Malfoy, with fucking him until he forgot his own name.
Harry did not interrupt Malfoy as he stood there, obviously thinking hard. He was glad that Malfoy took him seriously. Harry hoped that Malfoy could live up to what he had asked. Maybe Malfoy had just wanted to feel superior to Harry for once, get off, then leave? Maybe he did not want the responsibility of making it good for Harry, as well. Or maybe he wasn't actually as kinky as all that.
But then Malfoy nodded. Again, it was just a single, wordless nod. That was enough, though. Harry grinned in answer.
Then Malfoy turned around and left the cell. The door clanged shut behind him with a loud clang.

Harry had been sitting alone in the dark and cold for what felt like hours but was probably not even one. He was shivering with a mixture of anticipation and cold and the only thing he was quite sure of was that as soon as that door opened again, there would be no turning back.
He was losing his virginity today to Draco Malfoy, and it was going to be one hell of a ride.
Harry sat up as straight as his shackles allowed. Footsteps. There were footsteps approaching his cell.
The door was pulled open with a sharp gesture, and in came Draco Malfoy. He looked just as elegant as before, but now the pretend-coolness was lined with an edge of want and purpose that had not been nearly as strong before.
Malfoy's wand lit two torches in holders on either side of the cell walls. Then he stepped fully into the cell, letting the door fall shut behind him. The sound echoed loudly in the silence of the dungeon.
"You're mine, Potter," were Malfoy's first words.
Harry shivered. He forced his eyes to meet Malfoy's defiantly. "I only belong to myself, Malfoy. He could not break me, so why do you think you can?"
Malfoy flicked several murmured spells against the door, towards Harry and around the cell, before focusing his entire attention on Harry. He looked down on his helpless prisoner and smirked. "I can, because I know you better than he does." With that, he pointed his wand at Harry's chest. "Diffindo."
Harry's shirt split open along a neat line that travelled from his neck down to his trousers. Cool dungeon air hit the exposed skin and gooseflesh overtook it at once. Harry shivered.
"Diffindo," Malfoy said once more, and this time it was Harry's trousers that split straight down the middle. "Diffindo." Harry's pants were no more.
Blushing fiercely, Harry pulled on his shackles, trying and failing to close his legs, to protect his modestly, but to no avail. He was spread naked and open for Malfoy's perusal.
Malfoy, meanwhile, just stood there - still fully closed - and looked at him. Smirking. "Very nice," he finally said, "very nice indeed."
"Flogger," he then uttered seemingly inconsequentially. Harry blinked. A many-ended whip had just appeared in Malfoy's outstretched hand out of thin air.
House elves, Harry realized. Apparently, the Malfoys had more than one.
That was about as far as Harry's thinking went before his brain stuttered to a halt. Malfoy had stepped closer and was now trailing the soft leather strands of the whip over Harry's cock and balls.
Hot damn.
That felt better than it had any right to. Harry whimpered and felt his face flush when he realized that his cock was quickly hardening, and Malfoy must have a perfect view of it.
Indeed, Malfoy was looking directly at the swelling piece of Harry's anatomy. He kept trailing the whip over it, letting it lightly swing back and forth.
Harry closed his eyes in pleasure. This was not what he had expected, but he certainly was not opposed to the delight of -
"Aargh!"
Harry's eyes flew open. He looked in disbelief at his thigh, where the 'soft' whip had just smacked him pretty darn harshly, indeed. An unholy light seemed to dance in Malfoy's eyes when Harry met them. The blond man was stood in front of Harry, the whip in one hand, all of the strands bundled in the other, raised shoulder-high and obviously ready to let rip with another hit.
Harry's entire body tensed. His hands made several aborted motions towards his groin to protect himself. But in the end, he could do nothing but sit there and take it.
And hope to God that Malfoy's aim was true.
His eyes followed the whip down as though in slow-motion, right until the strands struck down on the tender flesh of his other thigh, very narrowly indeed missing his still straining cock.
"Ooouff."
Again, Malfoy raised the whip, and again, Harry's body seemed to tense yet further. Harry had never known that just waiting for a blow to fall could be such heavy work. Back with the Dursleys, hits had been predictable for the most part, and once you evaded them and ran away, the tension blew off.
But here, there was no evading. There was also no running. Harry was well and truly fucked.
He knew it, and Malfoy knew it, too. The blond still held the whip raised, ready to strike, but did not let go. Instead, he watched Harry's face, saw the tension there, the wide-eyed fear of the whip. And he saw the exact moment when Harry realized that this time, Malfoy was not aiming for his thighs.
"Wait, NO- AAARRGH!"
Harry's body spasmed as he thrashed in his bonds, trying and failing to categorize the entirely new pain that was coursing through it from where the flogger had come down hard on his cock and balls. "MALFOY! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!!"
A snigger answered him. Harry's disbelieving eyes widened yet further upon realizing that yes, that had indeed been entirely intentional and not a mistake on Malfoy's part. And Malfoy was raising the whip again!
"No-no-no, wait, that is not - NYIIEAAAAH!"
Another hit. "AAH!"
And another. "HAAAAH!"
"GRAHRGH!"
"HHHH-"
"Unh."
"Hhh."
"---"
By now, Harry was clenching his teeth for all he was worth. His body was twitching helplessly and his eyes were glued to the evil smirk on Malfoy's face as he let the strands of the leather whip rain down on Harry's middle again and again.
When Harry stopped vocalizing the intense pain, Malfoy stopped. "Want to beg for mercy, Potter?" he asked evilly.
Harry did not know where he pulled the strength from, but somehow he found the determination to meet that question with the derision it deserved. "Never!"
Malfoy had clearly expected that answer, though. "We'll see about that," was all he said before handing the flogger back into thin air, where, presumably, a house elf took care of it.
Now Malfoy closed in on Harry again, kneeling down in front of his victim and pushing the ragged remains of his torn clothes further down the arms and legs to get them out of his way. His hands flew straight into Harry's crotch and took hold of the abused balls.
Harry whined anew. Malfoy's hands were clearly those of an aristocrat, despite his position on the Quidditch team, and despite frequent manual labour in herbology. There must be spells to keep them this smooth and warm.
Harry's erection had withered and died as he lost himself in the pain. But now, it was quickly springing back to life at Malfoy's soft touches. To Harry's great surprise, nothing seemed seriously bruised. None of Malfoy's touches hurt him, in fact, apart from an intense heat, he felt as though hardly any reminder was left on his battered flesh from the whipping he had just endured. How...?
Harry would probably never find out whether that flogger had any special charms applied to it, or if he had simply over-reacted to his very first contact with a ball-lashing. What he did know right then was that Malfoy really knew what he was about.
That was a good thought. A very good one.
Harry sighed in a mixture of desire and relief and some of the tension seeped out of his shoulders.
"Now don't go falling asleep on me, Potter," Malfoy suddenly sneered. That was all the warning Harry got before one of the soft hands left his balls and instead grabbed a nipple and pinched. Hard.
"AAH!"
"That's better," Malfoy said with obvious satisfaction.
Harry was panting once more and Malfoy was clearly in his element as he now tortured Harry's nipples with one hand, while still rolling his balls in the other. Harry did not know what he looked like right now, with his face flushed, hair probably even messier than usual, mouth open and a continuous stream of screams and moans escaping him. But he was pretty sure Malfoy liked it.
The blond was sat there, pleased as punch, and playing Harry like a harp. Had Harry the necessary emotional distance from the scene, he might have laughed at the kid-in-the-candy-shop look on Draco Malfoy's face. However, Harry was very much part of the action, and as such, had no distance whatsoever to Malfoy's pinching and flicking fingers on his nipples, nor the soft fingers that were now leaving his balls and slowly trailing up his rock-solid erection.
Harry groaned, drawn-out and deeply. Where before, the pain of the whipping had destroyed his erection, now the combined stimulus of pain and pleasure Malfoy's fingers were providing to his nipples and balls had kept it all too alive. It was nearly starting to become painful of its own.
Harry became aware that Malfoy was mumbling soft words into his ear. "That's it, Potter. There is no pain. There is no pleasure. Your pleasure is pain. Your pain is pleasure. There is only feeling. Feel it. Feel all of it."
One long, drawn-out pinch to Harry's left nipple followed those words, increasing in strength until Harry thought he could no longer bear it, and beyond, and Harry thought It's true, there is no pain. His brain had trouble keeping track of the immense pain from his nipple and the immense pleasure from Malfoy's hand which was now firmly stroking up and down Harry's erect shaft. Somehow, the two bled into each other until Harry's erection twitched with the intense feeling in his nipple.
Finally, Malfoy let go of the nipple, and the pain of that beat all that came before.
"Woah," Harry said weakly - and spurted all over Malfoy's hand. His semen shot out of him in a high arch, splashing against his own belly and up, to land between his swollen, red nipples. "Woah," Harry repeated dumbly. "What the fuck."
Malfoy just smirked at him, cool as a you please, and wiped his hand on a fine cloth the house elves must have handed him. "Really, Potter. Have you no self-control?"
Harry flipped him the finger of his shackled left hand. "Piss off."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "You don't really mean that."
Harry slowly roused himself to more awareness, forcing himself out of the pleasant stupor of post-orgasmic bliss. "Mean what?"
Malfoy's eyes were intent. "You don't really want me to piss on you, do you?"
Harry was alert and sitting straight up in a flash. "What? No!! Did I...?!" In a panic, he tried to go back over his words, but couldn't quite make any sense of the last half hour, much less remember a single thing he'd said right after that fantastic orgasm.
He was extremely relieved when Malfoy laughed and said: "Alright, so that is one squick we share. Good to know."
Harry was just about to relax when Malfoy continued: "However. Now that you have brought me and my bodily functions into this, I believe it is high time I took care of my own body's needs rather than yours. Fun though it was to play with you, I am feeling sorely neglected."
Malfoy opened his fly and took out quite a respectable, and angrily red, engorged erection. The way Harry was sitting, it was right in front of his eyes. He watched it with curiosity and not a little alarm. Where would that go, now?
"You sit right where I want you," Malfoy was quick to inform him. "I do not fancy any biting though, intentional or otherwise. Evanesco! - Don't worry, they will grow back."
Harry did worry, and very much so. His teeth had vanished!!! "Not funny, Malfoy!", he wanted to scream angrily, but it came out rather odd, his pronunciation shot to hell by the missing bits. Then screaming became a non-issue, anyway, as he suddenly had his mouth full of Malfoy's cock.
"Ngh!"
Harry had never had sex before, and especially not with a guy. Nor had he ever even touched a prick not his own. To now suddenly have one forcefully shoved into his mouth was a bit much.
"Suck it, Potter!" Malfoy commanded.
Harry glowered at him.
"Still playing coy, are we?" Malfoy's lips twisted in that evil smirk again. "I would have let you go slow, you know." His hand stroked over Harry's hair, then the fingers twisted in it and gave one short yank. "But not now." His other hand delivered a sharp smack to Harry's cheek. Looking straight into Harry's fearfully raised eyes, he hissed down at him: "Now that you tried to deny me, you'll find out just what a bad idea that was."
Harry was in serious need of air. Malfoy's hot, fat prick filled his mouth completely, bumping against the back of his mouth and blocking his airway. Worse, after his angry words, Malfoy started shoving it further inside!
Harry's eyes went wide as saucers and he once more looked up at Malfoy incredulously. Hello, choking here! he thought a bit frantically. And there's only so much room in a guy's mouth, you know! This is a dead end, stop humping the wall!
But Malfoy did not stop.
Tears shot into Harry's mouth and his burning need for air was the topmost thought in his mind when Malfoy's cock forced its way down his throat. Harry tried to bite, thinking correctly that even without teeth, he might do some damage; but Malfoy had anticipated him and before Harry could apply any real force, had jammed the thumb and index of his free hand into Harry's cheeks to forcefully keep them open.
Harry could not scream. He could not bite. His hands and legs were trapped, and Malfoy was not giving him an inch. Blood was pounding in Harry's head, hot blood was pounding in the veins on Malfoy's cock, and Harry was slowly suffocating with his nose pressed into Draco Malfoy's crotch.
Fuck. Not the way I intended to go.
His hands were clenched into tight fists, only his legs still twitching a little. Everything else was tense to the point of tearing. Tears were liberally streaming down Harry's cheeks as his body kept trying and failing to draw breath around the obstruction in his throat.
Finally, finally!, Malfoy slowly pulled back out. But he only exited Harry's throat, keeping it in his mouth. Harry frantically tried to draw breath, but snot was blocking his nose, and his lips would not open any further than the stretch around Malfoy's cock. Malfoy's hold on his cheeks prevented it.
Panic seized him. He could not die like this. He could not!!!
Warmth bloomed in Harry's chest. His magic awoke, and even without a wand, he suddenly knew he was not helpless. Harry's pupils, which had reduced to tiny dots in his panic, slowly widened again and a green light like a killing curse swirled in their depths.
Malfoy took one look at those eyes and hastily pulled back. He withdrew his organ from Harry's mouth and released his hair and cheeks, instead raising both hands in a placating gesture. "Potter, don't do anything rash, now."
Harry barely noticed. He was panting madly, struggling to draw in the missing oxygen despite the snot and tears and the burn in his throat. Hacking coughs racked his body and he ended up spitting out a chunk of goo before he finally began to calm down.
He gave Malfoy a very evil look. "That was a bit much."
"I noticed."
Malfoy slowly approached him again and pasted a somewhat shaky smirk on his face. "Still, you did ask for no mercy."
"So I did..."
"Still want that?"
Harry remained silent for a spell. Did he? He had been truly panicked by the lack of air when he was also lacking control. Images of dark water and mermen with wicked spears floated in front of his eyes. Maybe he had reason to fear situations with a lack of oxygen. "I suppose I don't deal well with suffocation," he said in a conciliatory tone. "But otherwise, yes; I do want to go on."
"Good."
Harry was startled when his shackles rearranged themselves with a lot of clanging and rattling. His body was forced to twist and turn until he was on his knees in the middle of the cell, his ankles far apart, and his arms stretched out above his head, hands shackled directly to the floor. Then, Malfoy made his teeth regrow. It was blindingly painful for a moment, but then his mouth was back to normal.
Except for the bruises on his cheeks and inside his throat, of course.
"Let's try something new," Malfoy mused. "I think you will like this. - Cane."
Harry tried to glance back, but his wrists were shackled right next to each other, making his arms stretch over his head and effectively keeping his head down. Therefore he had now warning before the cane smacked against his arse cheeks.
"Ow!"
"A different sound from before; interesting," Malfoy commented and hit him again.
"Ow!"
Several more hits produced more "Ow!"s, before Malfoy paused, then hit Harry with a lot more force.
"OI! Watch it, damn you, that bloody HURT!"
Malfoy chuckled. "That is rather the point. I still did not get to come, you know, so I am a tad bit frustrated right now. And since your bottom provides such an inviting target, I shall now relieve all my frustrations on it. Besides, the hat was right to put you in Gryffindor, did you know that? Red really suits you."
Malfoy followed that with a stream of cane hits, each a little stronger than the previous one.
Harry was soon screaming and cursing at the top of his abused lungs, and still Malfoy did not stop. His arse cheeks were on fire. Harry was sure it would not take much more and the skin would split and bleed. This was rather different from the flogger earlier, the hard wood did serious damage to his skin and Malfoy was not holding back one bit.
When Malfoy did pause for a moment, Harry did not dare sigh with relief; he was starting to learn better. Indeed, he had done well to stay alert. That way, he could just so hold back the mortifying yelp of surprise that threatened to escape when Malfoy's shoe pushed up against Harry's crotch from behind.
"You're such a slut, Potter," Malfoy said with derisively, yet obviously amused. In a moment of sudden clarity, Harry realized that he had gotten hard again. Oh my god! He'd gotten hard from a caning?
Harry had known he had some deviant fantasies, and as such he had grasped the chance to be pretend-raped by Draco Malfoy with both hands. But he hadn't really expected he would like it so much.
"You want to come again, Potter, don't you?" Malfoy was now saying, and Harry had the dark premonition that no matter how he answered that question, he would regret it.
"Coming is nice," he offered cautiously.
"Indeed it is," Malfoy agreed. "What is the most times you have ever made yourself come in one session, Potter?"
"Um, three."
"Let's make it four, then, shall we?" The smirk was back in Malfoy's voice. "And I will be nice and help you with that. - Potion!"
Harry discovered that it was, after all, possible to raise his head in spite of his taut arms. At least, it was if Draco Malfoy had a hold of his chin and was ruthlessly twisting it upwards. Harry had little choice about swallowing the potion Malfoy forced on him, just like he had no choice about the pepper-up, earlier.
This potion did not produce any steam and Harry was fairly sure he had never tasted it before. But after Malfoy's words, he had a pretty good idea of what it would do. "I do not need potions to come."
"Maybe not. But you do need this potion to come four times, and recover as quickly as I want you to in-between."
Was that a promise or a threat? Harry decided it was probably both. Expecting Malfoy to go back to caning him or maybe further teasing his hard cock with his shoe, Harry tried to jump a mile despite his shackles when that shoe was suddenly between his arse cheeks.
He sharply sucked in his breath.
That shoe wiggled around a little, poking, nudging, then finally retreated. It was immediately replaced by a slick object, nothing large, but still enough to be rather noticeable when Malfoy pushed it inside him.
Harry shifted around in discomfort as much as the shackles would let him. He'd never had anything in there, and he didn't even know what that thing was! It was thin, smooth and cold.
It could be anything.
Malfoy clucked his tongue, then nudged Harry's left leg with one shoe. Was it the same one that had just been between his arse cheeks? Harry flushed brightly at the thought.
The nudge resulted in Harry's shackles rearranging themselves once more. He ended up supine on the floor, arms stretched out to the sides, legs bent and spread open. "Better," Malfoy said. Taking yet another object out of thin air, he bent down over Harry's still proudly erect prick.
"Fuck, no," Harry cursed when a ring was pulled tight around the base of his erection. He'd heard of such things, and he seriously did not know how Malfoy expected him to come with that on him.
Malfoy just laughed at him. "This is not exactly what you think," he said mysteriously.
"Oh, no?" Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant and failing utterly. "Then what is it?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Harry could have happily put his fist through that smirk right about now. As it was, though, once more he could do nothing else than lie there passively and take it. That was still true when Malfoy took out a third toy, this one a matching set of clamps, and attached it to his already sore nipples.
Malfoy stood up and brushed off his clothes. Somewhere along the line, he had tucked his prick back into his pants. Malfoy looked impeccable once more. He was all poncy nobleman when he looked down on Harry and said: "Well, do enjoy your four times." Then he opened the cell door and left.
"Malfoy, what the fuck! Come back here! MALFOY!"

Draco laughed loudly as soon as the door had fallen shut behind him. Maybe Potter could hear him through the door, but if so, it hardly hurt Malfoy's standing in Potter's eyes. Right now, Draco was pretty sure, Potter was busy cursing him with every name in the book for walking out on him like that.
He'd curse even louder once the torches went out.
Draco calmly made his way up to his bedroom. There, he activated the large, full-length wall-mirror that connected directly to the cell that held Potter. Without an inkling that this particular creature comfort was inspired by a Muggle home entertainment system, he added the surround sound to the video.
...bloody, stupid, buggering son-of-a...", Potter's voice was transported to his ears. Draco allowed himself a pleased huff. Potter's rant was already losing steam, but he knew it would soon pick up again.
The lights went out.
"Fuck."
Contrary to Draco's expectation, Potter did not appear to mind the dark. Draco himself did not mind, either, the charms on the cell allowing him to see Potter perfectly well even without the torch light. Still, this was a surprise.
Draco took a sip of water and snatched a few grapes from a plate on his dresser, then he settled back comfortably against his bed. And like a Muggle would hit 'play' on his remote, he activated the charms on Harry's toys.

A white light flashed through the darkness.
Harry blinked, unsure of whether he had just imagined it, when the ring around his cock vibrated.
Oh.
The light flashed again, and with about a second's delay, the vibration was repeated. Harry tried to raise his head and look at what was going on when the next light flashed, but there was nothing much to be seen - a quick flash, then darkness. Then vibrations.
Harry let his head sink back to the floor and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. If that was all that was going to happen, he'd be here a while...
Of course, he should not have underestimated Malfoy like that. And really, he did know better. He just had absolutely no idea what to expect. So when a blue light flashed, he was so surprised it took him a moment to understand that there was no vibration this time; rather, a feeling like a jolt of electricity ran through his body, starting in his arse.
This was getting interesting.
Another flash of white light announced more vibrations, several more of those followed; then another flash of blue. Harry's body jerked. That had been stronger than before.
Harry was getting a little troubled by this. Where had Malfoy gone? Was this setup safe to be left alone with? What if something went wrong, would Malfoy know? Harry could be electrocuted in this cell without Malfoy being any the wiser as far as Harry knew.
Damn that snake.
Still, Harry could not deny that the increasing frequency of the vibrations on his cock were pleasant, and so far, the jolts from that thing in his arse were also more pleasure than pain. Harry decided not to worry about things he could not change anyway and just to enjoy what was happening.
Soon, he was moaning loudly and writhing on the floor in abandon as the vibrations became near-constant and the jolts flashing through him at irregular intervals had him gasping in delicious pleasure-pain.
Then a red light flashed.
Harry froze. What...?
"AAAARGH!"
The third toy had activated and the clamps bit down fiercely into his nipples.
Harry gasped painfully. Fuck, but that hurt!
He had no time to recover from the shock of that pain, though, for already the other lights were flashing again and his hard erection was valiantly trying to get even harder. Harry was soon immersed in the pleasure of the vibrations and hot jolts of magic or electricity or whatever-else-don't-care-but-it-feels-good once more. But this time, he remained alert and anxiously on the lookout for the red light at all times.
When it flashed again, he tried to brace himself for the pain; still, it hit him just as badly as before.
"AAAAAH! FUCK! ...Fuck!"
This time, there was even less recovery time than before. Considering that before, he'd already termed it 'none', that was pretty impressive. What happened was that instead of keeping to the same frequency as before, the flashing of the other toys increased the moment the red light flashed. Harry shuddered and moaned wildly, his brain once more struggling to separate the pain and pleasure running like fire up and down his body.
Harry's body twitched and spasmed on the cold dungeon floor, and he threw his head back and forth with abandon. He wanted his hands, wanted to touch himself and bring himself to completion, wanted to rut against this fucking cold floor, dammit, he wanted to move! But he was trapped and helpless and reduced to this by Draco bloody Malfoy and oh wow, what a picture he must make right now, OUCH, RED LIGHT! and the white light was near-constant now, and damn those spanks had felt good earlier and oh wow, the sight of Malfoy's cock and wow, that blue light really was something else and he wondered if when Malfoy came back he was going to fuck -
RED LIGHT!
And with the image of Malfoy fucking him at the forefront of his mind, Harry came with a strangled groan.
The light-show stopped.
Harry lay panting in the dark, trying to get his wits back about him, trying to recover from the exhausting business of being subjected to such wildly different stimuli outwith his own control.
Wow, what a rush.

On his bed in his nicely sun-bathed bedroom, Draco lay comfortably pleasuring himself to the sound of Potter's moans. He watched Potter's face as he came and it nearly brought him off himself. But Draco had plans yet for today, and he did not want to take the potion he had forced on Potter.
He fancied himself above such things.
So he kept leisurely stroking himself while Potter lay struggling with the aftermath of his orgasm. Let's not be too nice, Draco decided after less than three minutes. On with the show.
The red light that flashed across his mirror was bright enough to nearly make Draco himself jump, but he had been forewarned and so he just flinched minutely before focusing his entire attention on Potter's face and the look of doom that overtook it at the sight of that immensely bright red light.
"I'm so screwed," he thought he heard Potter say before an ear-piercing scream tore through his room.
Draco laughed and leaned back to watch more comfortably as Potter was bombarded with red lights, with only a few minutes of soothing whites and the occasional blue thrown in to let him catch his breath. And even so, Potter's erection eventually recovered and came back full-out after - he checked his clock - not even twenty minutes. Much more of a masochist than I'd imagined in my wildest dreams!
He'd never look at that man with the same eyes again.
The tension in the cell built quickly, this time, and Draco's eyes grew glassy as he watched and listened to Potter being tortured by the toys he had placed on him, and in him. He had done this to Potter, and the frazzled, debauched state of the Gryffindor poster boy was entirely his work.
Rarely had he been so proud of himself.
A loud, plaintive moan from the mirror went straight to Draco's cock and he began stroking himself more vigorously. Then a series of blue lights shook Potter like an unforgivable curse and the look on his face drove Draco crazy.
"Fuck you, Malfoy!" he heard right before Potter erupted for the second time in Draco's mirror. Draco tugged at himself harshly as Potter whined with the strength of his orgasm. Then, with barely a minute's pause, the white light came back on.
Potter's face twisted in horror.
And Draco came.

Despite the lack of a break before the Third Round, as Harry had termed it in his head, this one was a lot less intense than the painful second one. There were plenty of vibrations, and while his prick was having a hard time getting up again, it was not yet stimulated to the point of being more painful than anything else. The red light barely made any appearances, which Harry was grateful for, since he felt as though his nipples would be chewed clean off with just a few more of those attacks.
When Harry came, he came from a single jolt of blue amidst the white. He sighed in blissful relief.
It was over.
...Or so he thought. For about five minutes. Then the lights slowly started up again.
"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me. Malfoy, you said four times. I've come four times, let me up! MALFOY, DAMN YOU, YOU STINKING FERRET! GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE RIGHT NOW AND SWITCH THIS CRAP THE FUCK OFF!"
Nothing.
Except for a bright red light.
"FUCK!"
Harry was exhausted. He didn't think he could get it up again if his life depended on it. He was dehydrated, tired and completely shagged out. Everything hurt, his nipples most of all. It was enough!
He should never have believed a stupid Slytherin's word.
Harry kept groaning and angrily mumbling to himself for a good ten minutes, before deciding it was simply too much work. He didn't have the energy for it.
So instead, he once more fell back into the flashing lights, trying vainly to detect any kind of pattern. And, rather against his will, his cock twitched, then grew again.
What was in that phial?!
This time, the lights started out very much like the first time. White lights at long intervals, slowly joined by blue ones, then finally red ones showing up, as well. Still, the blue jolts were stronger and the red ones weaker than before, so Harry did not trust things to be exactly as before.
He felt his fifth climax slowly, but relentlessly approaching when the pattern finally changed in a dramatic fashion.
First, the white light came on and stayed on for what felt like a full minute. Harry enjoyed the vibrations, but was afraid what that would mean for the others.
He was right to be afraid.
The blue light went next, and while it may have stayed on shorter than the white, it was still long enough to keep Harry twitching from the consecutive jolts for quite a while after it was over.
The red light was pure, undiluted agony. Had Harry thought before that his nipples were about to come off, now he was suddenly hyper-aware of just where they were joined to his body, for the pain seemed to project outward from them towards his belly, his arms and his shoulders. It was so intense that it took his breath away for several seconds.
Panting, he came down from that head rush, his eyes thrown wide open to prepare as best he could for the next onslaught.
White lights flashed. And again. Again. Regularly, this time. It was like a countdown, Harry thought with dry humour. ...six... five... four... three... two... one...
All hell broke lose.
Harry's cell was illuminated bright as day as red, blue and white lights started chaotically flashing atop each other.
"Oh no-no-no-No-No-NO-NONONOO- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!"
When the pain and pleasure hit after that second of time delay, Harry knew what was coming, but was absolutely unprepared to meet it. During the first three turns, he had never had two stimuli coinciding for more than a half a second or so; and usually only at half strength. Now, they were hitting him with full force, one atop the other - his cock vibrating down the entire length, with his balls humming along and even his thighs quaking; his arse clenching tightly around the little rod that sent pulse after pulse of heightened sensation through all the veins in his body; and the clamps seeming to rotate on his blasted nipples, chewing, pinching, hurting them for all they were worth.
Harry screamed.
And screamed.
And came.

Draco watched with immense pleasure as Potter blacked out from that last orgasm.
He had laughed himself silly at the Gryffindor's look when he realized that Draco had not meant a total of four orgasms, but rather four without counting that first one Draco had given to him directly when he was still down in that cell with Potter.
Then, he had watched with great anticipation for the great, furious conclusion. Potter's incredulous face and his chant of "no-no-no", as though to ward of his doom, cracked Draco up again and he was wiping a tear from his eye when he opened the door to Potter's cell.
Potter was just slowly coming to, lifting his head woozily and peering at Draco from under his tousled, sweat-soaked mop of raven hair. "You're mad, Malfoy. You know that, right?"
"You have a best friend who considers expulsion worse than dying; your parents' best friend considers you dinner the night of the full moon; and you have a Dark Lord out for your blood. I assume you calling me mad is a compliment."
Potter forced a weak smile. "You do have a point," he rasped. "And you don't even know my relatives."
Draco decided that was a story for another time. "Have some water," he said instead, holding a bottle of clear spring water to Potter's lips. The man drank eagerly. In one fluid motion, Draco replaced the water bottle with a potions phial, and the still disoriented Potter drank that down, as well. Steam rose from his ears.
Right afterwards, he became a lot more alert. "Umh. Why do I need pepper-up now?"
Draco smirked. "I am not done with you yet, Potter."
Potter groaned.

He is mad, Harry thought. Barking!
Malfoy had whipped his balls, wanked him, spanked him, choked him, then left him to be driven mad by repeated use of some toys that were almost certainly dark magic. Harry had been made to come four times, had endured immense amounts of pain and pleasure, and all he wanted to do now was sleep. And Malfoy still didn't have enough?!
"Do you think I'm super-human or something?" he asked, his voice scratchy from screaming.
"No," Malfoy answered, "but I do believe in strengthening potions. Also, I still haven't made good use of you. Or, not directly, anyway."
"Huh?"
Harry did not like the look on Malfoy's face one bit as the blond withdrew a tiny hand mirror from his pocket. "You gave me a very lovely show," Malfoy said while activating the mirror. He held it in front of Harry's face - which flushed beet red in no time.
The mirror showed himself, writhing on the dungeon floor in exquisite agony, testing his bonds to the limit as semen spurted from his erect penis. He looked utterly ravished and, if he did say so himself, extremely hot.
"Huh." Harry did not feel that his response was appropriately eloquent, but, well, what did one say to that?
Apparently, Malfoy did not expect him to say anything more. Once more, he rearranged Harry's shackles. This time, Harry ended up on hands and knees, facing one wall. This wall was where Malfoy then hung his little pocket mirror, expanding it to a full two meters diameter. Harry looked himself in the eyes, saw a smirking Malfoy behind him, and was torn between embarrassment and ...lust.
He had not thought he had the energy left, for while the other potion had given him stamina, pepper-up would just give his body in general a boost; and that would surely not be enough to get him excited again any time this year.
Well, apparently he'd underestimated his own randiness. Harry couldn't help it - he smirked at his own mirror image. "Pervert," he mouthed.
Meanwhile, Malfoy had made himself comfortable behind Harry. Now, he reached for Harry and despite all that had already happened to him, Harry flinched when he withdrew the tiny rod from his arse.
Harry noticed he left the ring and clamps in place.
A soft, manicured finger probing at his hole made Harry's breath hitch. To have so much happening to his body over the last several hours, and then to realize that he was still technically a virgin - that was a ridiculous thought. And yet he all at once felt pretty virginal and vulnerable when Malfoy pushed that finger inside.
The tiny device had stretched him a little simply by being there. Still, it was uncomfortable having a live finger inside such an intimate place. Also, it hurt. And that was just one finger!
"Hurts," he breathed, no longer ashamed to say the first thing that came to mind. Not after he had realized that Malfoy had witnessed his ranting, moaning and finally, fainting, of the past hours through that mirror.
The finger was withdrawn. "Well, we can't have that unless I'm doing it on purpose," Malfoy commented.
When the finger returned, it was slick with some kind of goo, and it went in a lot more easily. Harry hummed his appreciation. This was colder, but felt a lot safer. He was exhausted, but he still had enough strength to derive a little pleasure from the slick finger moving in and out of his hole.
A second finger joined the first, and though there was a mild burn, Harry did not much mind. To his surprise, even the third finger did not hurt much at all. Harry supposed he was just that relaxed from all the strenuous activities of the past hours. Or maybe Malfoy was using super-special magical lube. He neither knew nor cared, just as long as there was no excess of pain involved.
In altogether much less time than Harry would have thought, Malfoy proclaimed him ready and got into position behind Harry. The blunt tip of his penis pressed against Harry's hole and he felt his own cock stiffening again. Oh wow, but this was something else!
Harry looked straight ahead into the mirror and watched Malfoy's face as the blond entered him. The look of intense concentration slowly gave way to deep lust and animalistic hunger. A shiver ran down Harry's spine at that look. He felt like prey, only he had not a chance of running.
Malfoy pushed forward and what seemed like a huge cock indeed forced its way into Harry's body. Harry groaned deeply. Fuck, that was a lot to take! But strangely, it also felt really good. Full, but not in a bad way. The burn around the ring of muscles at his entrance was delicious, and when Malfoy bumped against his prostate, sending sparks of an entirely different kind than the toys' impulses through Harry's body, he was well and truly hooked.
"Oh, fuuck!"
"Indeed."
"Smartass."
"Tight ass."
"True."
Both men paused, considering the utter ridiculousness of that exchange.
Then Malfoy shrugged and leant forward, pushing all the way in. Harry groaned deeply, and even Malfoy let out a breathy gasp. Then his hands clenched down on Harry's hips and he started moving in earnest.
Malfoy set a punishing pace. It was all Harry could do to lock his elbows and keep from face-planting into the floor. His muscles and nerves soon screamed in protest, yet Malfoy relentlessly kept fucking him.
Harry was exhausted. Pepper-up was all nice and good, but it wasn't the same as a good rest, and he was not only physically, but also mentally exhausted. Still, this was such a fantastic experience, he wanted to be awake and alert during all of it, wanted to treasure it. But it was simply too much!
A tear escaped Harry's eye, followed by a tiny whimper. He couldn't... he just...
"Please..."
Malfoy paused. Slowly, his eyes searched for and found Harry's in the mirror. An unreadable expression was on his face as he asked: "Do you remember what you asked of me at the start, Potter?"
Harry stared at him blankly.
"You said, and I quote," Malfoy said, a smile breaking out on his face that spelled DOOM in capital letters to Harry's mind, "'I want you to make me beg and cry, take me to a place where 'no' means 'yes' and 'please' means 'harder'.' Well then, Potter: beg for me!"
With these words, Malfoy began fucking him in earnest, his hips pistoning into Harry at a punishing pace. Harry gasped and shuddered, his arms trembled and finally gave way. His face on the floor, Harry was helplessly pushed and pulled back and forth by Malfoy's furious thrusts. He felt the skin of his left cheek tear on the rough floor, but he could simply not get his arms underneath his body once more.
Helplessly, he lay there as Malfoy fucked him, not participating any longer, but being well and truly used.
Harry did not know when he had started crying, but the sound of his own sobs startled him out of it. Now he did manage to push himself back up on his hands, after all. He looked up to see his own bloodshot eyes and bloody cheek, then raised his gaze further to meet Malfoy's steel grey orbs, looking at him with that superior smirk. One eyebrow was raised as though asking if he were ready to beg, yet.
Harry firmly set his jaws before baring his teeth, just once.
Malfoy understood. He grinned, then focused once again on pounding Harry through the dungeon floor.
Christ, but the man had stamina! Harry wondered what kind of potions Draco Malfoy might have taken before returning to his cell. Surely, no man should be allowed to go on for this long and still not have come?
His arse started aching, now. The rest of his body was aching anyway, every part of him feeling tired and abused. Then Malfoy had the brilliant idea to switch on the vibrating ring again.
"No, oh god, please, no!"
"I am glad you like it," Malfoy said evilly.
Harry was out of his mind with exhaustion, with lust and with this whole fucking situation. Every time he raised his head, he was faced with his own devastated appearance - bloody, tear-streaked and exhausted, with his clothes hanging from his underarms and ankles in rags - in contrast with Malfoy's: flushed and sweaty, still fully dressed except for his open fly, and appearing fully in control of the situation.
God, what a bastard.
Harry hated him. And admired him.
And right now, very much needed him. Harry was approaching his climax once more, for the sixth time today. But he had the distinct feeling that the humming of the ring would no longer be enough to get him off, not after his body having gone through so many more intense experiences today. So even while he hated Malfoy for continuing his relentless, bruising pace, Harry also loved him for it. It was nearly sure to get him off.
Only, it didn't.
Harry didn't understand it. He felt just like he had before when he had come, only he wasn't coming. He whined in frustration. He was hot, he was aroused, his prick was hurting like mad and he needed to come! Why couldn't his stupid body do what it was supposed to?
A chuckle broke him out of his furious thoughts. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head and met Malfoy's thoroughly amused eyes. "Like the change to the ring?" the blond devil asked.
Harry sobbed. "You didn't."
"I assure you I did."
Harry's strength left him for the second time and he once more crashed to the floor. But Malfoy would have none of that. Ordering a rubber bit and reins from a house elf, Malfoy had outfitted Harry like a horse in no time and was forcing his head up. Harry had no choice but to lock his elbows anew with his last remaining strength and keep himself on his hands and knees.
Once more, Malfoy immersed himself in the taxing business of fucking the living daylights out of Harry. The pain and exhaustion and that bloody fucking hell of a vibrator around his cock little by little drove Harry out of his mind until he was floating far off in subspace. Every push of that cock inside his arse was bliss, every hum of the vibrator like a mini-orgasm. Harry drifted off on the sensations, hugging them to himself at the same time as he felt distanced from his own body.
More than ever, he knew he had absolutely no control over what was happening to him.
But just then, he did not awfully mind.
Harry did not know how long he had been floating, or whether Malfoy's pace had changed at all during that time. What he did know was that Malfoy was reaching for his wand, saying a spell - and the nipple clamps that had been on him for hours came off, opening in no time at all.
Harry roared. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
The pain was intense! Worse than anything that had gone before. Worse than those disco lights of red and white and blue at the end of the last round. Worse than having both his upper and lower cheeks split open. Worse than being nearly choked to death. Worse than falling from his broom in third year, come to think of it.
Harry's world was pain. Far away, at the outer fringes of his awareness, he heard a low groan and felt something changing inside him. He would later connect the dots that this was Malfoy coming, driven over the edge by Harry's intense pain.
But for now, all he knew was blackness.

Harry slowly came awake to an odd sensation in his lower regions. It was warm, and wet, and though it chafed a little, it wasn't altogether unpleasant... Harry kept his eyes closed and his head resting where it lay and just floated on the comfortable sensation as long as he could.
Eventually, though, he knew he'd have to open his eyes. So, after a while, he did.
Lifting his head, he saw a sight that matched the sensations perfectly, but still managed to surprise him: Draco Malfoy, lying on his stomach between Harry's legs, and sucking his cock.
"Oh."
The mouth came off him with a slurping sound. "Welcome back, Potter." Then Malfoy bent back to his task.
Harry groaned. "You are determined to kill me, aren't you?"
Malfoy chuckled, which felt really odd. Harry's balls drew up and he remembered a certain problem he'd had with coming before. A whine escaped before he could stop it. "Malfoy, please...!"
Once more, the mouth was pulled off. "Wish granted," was all he said before bending down to lick and suck more vigorously than ever.
Harry first noticed that his hands and legs were finally free when one of his arms found its way into Malfoy's hair of its own accord.
Huh. That seemed oddly familiar, only wrong way around.
Malfoy chuckled again.
Harry wondered dazedly if he was supposed to push Malfoy's head down. But somehow, he couldn't be bothered to do that. Why would he? Malfoy's head was great right where it was... Harry thought he might be missing something here, but it would surely come back to him later. When he was more awake. Less tired. Less preoccupied with watching his cock vanishing between those soft, full lips.
Harry moaned softly. Then more loudly. He hoped very much that Malfoy hadn't lied to him.
"Malfoy, I - I..."
He could feel the smirk around Malfoy's lips even as the other man swallowed him down to the root.
"Ngaah!" Harry came, his back arching, his cock spurting every last drop of his semen down Malfoy's throat.
Slowly, Harry sank back down to the floor.
"T-Thank you, I suppose," he managed.
"You are welcome," Malfoy said, licking a lost spot of come from the corner of his mouth.
"Shit that's hot. But I'm seriously too exhausted to really appreciate it right now," Harry babbled.
Malfoy gave a soft laugh that wasn't at all sneering or aloof. "I can believe that."
When Harry once more raised his eyes, Malfoy's grey ones looked back at him with a warmth that had never been in there before. "So, was it everything you hoped for, Potter?" he asked, and Harry heard no doubt or hesitation there.
"It was," he answered honestly, smirking: "And then some."
Suddenly, both boys stiffened at the sound of foot steps.
"Who?" Harry asked.
"That would be your friends coming to rescue you. But my parents said four p.m.! Surely, it can't have been eight hours already?!"
Harry rasped a tired laugh. "Rather feels like eighteen, if you ask me!"
Malfoy grinned sheepishly. "I promised you more rest than this. I am sorry. - Another pepper-up, quickly! And a healing potion!" He was handed the requested bottles and shoved them at Harry, who drank one after the other down with a resigned air.
Next, Malfoy raised his wand to repair Harry's clothes. He looked the other man over critically. Harry did the same in the mirror. Everything about him was still screaming "went through hell" to the untrained eye, or "just shagged" to the more discerning observer. But all the obvious signs were gone. His clothes were mostly patched, both sets of cheeks healed, the weak handprint on one cheek also gone, only the tear tracks remained, winding down through some indistinguishable dirt on his face.
"Good enough," Malfoy said. With a last nod to Harry, he vanished from the cell.
Only minutes later, the door was forced open from the outside, and a horrified Ron, Hermione, and several other sets of eyes looked in at a thoroughly shattered Harry Potter.
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What happens at Malfoy Manor stays at Malfoy Manor