Devil's Snare | By : lashton Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 13009 -:- 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. |
Title: Devil's Snare
Rating: R
Word Count: 947
033: Spring
Paring: Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry is told to bring Draco to the light side of the war at any cost. Post-HBP, D/s, dubious consent, Post-Hogwarts, war!fic.
Disclaimer: Unoriginal characters and situations belong to JKRowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
Table of Contents found at http://www.livejournal.com/users/mahoganyhandle/9713.html
A/N: One of these days I'll get the hang of updating when I mean to.
~
When Harry was released from St. Mungo's, he received a summons from Pansy, asking him to meet her in secret in a hidden chamber in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. The door was concealed beyond a fake wall in the fireplace – quite ingenious, in Harry's opinion. What witch or wizard would think twice about seeing someone waltzing into or out of the hearth?
A long winding stair led down into a furnished suite, complete with kitchen and – as far as Harry could tell – Floo access. Noise carried alarmingly well down here, and Harry shuffled along slowly, trying to remain silent. He had been invited, but neither of the voices drifting down the hall belonged to Pansy. He had been set up to find Snape here.
"We will make our move in the spring," came Snape's deep, smooth timber.
Malfoy made a surprised, almost whining sound, and said, "But I thought we were going to wait until after my birthday."
Sucking in a breath, Harry drew his magic over himself, activating the nullifying shield that removed or hid all traces of his presence. With this firmly in place, he crept forward and slipped in through the open door and hedged to the far side of the room. He gagged at what he saw.
Malfoy sat up against the headboard of a massive, canopied bed, drawn in on himself, wearing only a black pair of pants. Hideous red welts rose up on his skin, along his chest, back, arms and legs, crisscrossing with still bleeding cuts and abrasions. Snape paced at the foot of the bed, his wandtip glowing blood red. Speckles of blood dried on his hands, pale swathes against his severe black robes.
"Are you questioning me, Draco?" Snape asked at last.
"No, Sir," Malfoy replied quietly.
"It sounded like you were questioning me."
"Well, I wasn't," Malfoy snapped, "Sir. I was only surprised by the sudden change in plans."
"I don't see why you ought to be surprised when you are the one who facilitated the change." Malfoy flushed, as if embarrassed, and squirmed. "In fact, you deliberately disobeyed me to facilitate such an alteration in our plans. If you could forget your insubordination so easily, perhaps I have been too lenient with you."
"You haven't, Sir."
"Clearly," Snape retorted, flicking his wand. The sheets beneath Malfoy rippled, became rigid and grainy. It took Harry a moment to realize what it was: sandpaper. "And you aren't speaking out of turn." Malfoy stiffened, going disconcertingly still. He had done that before, in Harry's presence, when Harry's temper flared. It made Harry ill to think that Malfoy could associate him with such barbarism.
Another flick of the wand made Malfoy's leg jerk out from under him, as if caught at the ankle. Levicorpus, Harry knew, the spell of Snape's own making. He shuddered, thinking of what would come next, hating that he couldn't step in. Despite his training, he yet was no match for Snape, and Malfoy certainly wouldn't help him out of a tight spot. Every time he'd faced Snape in a duel, Harry had only gotten away because Snape allowed him to get away.
Even though he could anticipate Snape's next move, Malfoy stared at Snape flatly through his fringe, face still warmly flushed, and not pinched in the least. Snape sneered at him, crooked yellow teeth practically gnashing.
"Won't you cry for me, my pretty baby?" Snape cooed mockingly. "Or will you continue this unruly display? I do not find it endearing."
Malfoy lifted his head, eyes closed. There were already tears streaming down his cheeks, glistening in the ambient light. How appalling that Malfoy could cry on command! For, Harry had seen Malfoy cry before, both times with the dramatic flair he flaunted in all aspects of his life.
"Are you remorseful?" asked Snape gravely.
"Yes, Sir," Malfoy dutifully replied. No indicator of distress lingered in his voice.
"Will you disobey me again?" Malfoy shook his head. "Answer me, Mr. Malfoy."
"No, Sir."
"That is good, very pleasing to me. But you know that I must continue this. You have earned this punishment, and no amount of sudden guilt will convince me that you've truly learned your lesson."
"I understand, Sir," Malfoy said. Snape nodded and flicked his wand. Malfoy yelped as he was thrust back against the sandpaper bed and dragged down its agonizingly long length. A stark, red streak of blood stained the sheet. It was over swiftly, like tearing off a band aid, but it left Malfoy curled at the end of the bed, convulsing as he curled into a fetal position, biting his fist to muffle his screams. The lashes that streamed down his back like rivers had opened and deepened, and abraded tributaries sprung out from them. His back was raw and crimson, from blood and chafing.
"Let me see you, Draco," Snape said, voice unapologetic and unsympathetic. Harry wanted to lash out, and he barely managed to hold himself back. He doubted that taking Snape by surprise would be much of an advantage in the long run.
Malfoy rolled over onto his stomach, still wracked with tremors. Snape prodded his back with his wand. Malfoy whimpered, but did not speak.
"Finish what you have started with Potter, Draco, but do not step out of line again. Do not forget who I am. Do not forget what you promised me. Perhaps this will serve to ground you." Snape jabbed his wand into Malfoy's back again. Malfoy whimpered again as a black cloud drifted from the wand and seeped into his wounds. Snape stepped away. "Prepare Potter for what will come in the spring," he added, then Apparated away.
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