Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Tarnished Lion	By : InvidiaRed Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 56639 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I make no money off of this fanfiction. Harry Potter and its world isn't mine. Any and all resemblance is entirely coincidental. Again, All fun and practice.

Chapter List
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Bartemius Crouch Junior heard the thundering footsteps of giants overhead, and he groaned as his head rang with an ironclad punch.

He rubbed his head as his vision slowly focused; he was in a cupboard—a cluttered cupboard with only a single bed.

He groaned and rubbed his temples. He looked for his wand but couldn't find it anywhere.

He slowly got to his feet. His head hit the top of the cupboard, and he gripped his pounding headache.

An overwhelming green brilliance, then... Nothing.

What had transpired? Where was his master? His lord who bound him so sweetly?

He looked for a door to find only a forlorn bare wall.

"There is no door." Barty Jr. Jumped and smashed his head against the roof of the cupboard.

He groaned as he hunched over to nurse his head.

"Who is there?" Barty Junior demanded.

"Who is there? You bloody nonce. You know who I am. I defeated the dark lord in the graveyard you bleeding pervert. I am Harry Fucking Potter! Savior of The Wizarding World!"

Barty Jr. Giggled happily as he heard the voice of his master.

He clapped his hands happily. It sent a pang racing downward. As his loins stirred to life.

He remembered that cock swallowing hole. He remembered how he taught his rising lord to take it. Was that not the duty of a lover?

To show one another all the dirty, dirty things one can do for one another?

He turned to witness his master, and there was no way it wasn't his lord.

His liege.

Sitting on the crowded bed. Barty Jr's mouth grew dry.

"Why are you looking at me like that pervert?" Harry Potter demanded as Barty Jr ripped his clothes off, and he stared at his master covered in clothes far too big for him.

Obscured his perfection. He was leaking, and he had never been so rock-hard in his life. His turgid throbbing cock was so solid steel itself would blanche at its rigidity.

To see those emerald eyes widen, to catch his master's sudden breath! Pure aphrodisiac that put amortentia to shame. Love potions were but sugar water in comparison.

Was this Love? he wanted to drown in it.

Barty took in the smell of semen, the scent of fear, and the potpourri rhapsody of smell that could only palely comprise the essence of his master.

The perfection of his master was not to be hidden away! He grabbed that ugly, oversized thing and brutally tore it away.

Barty towered over the more petite man, and there was nowhere to go, no door in a cramped place.

Harry had to accept his Love! The groan as Barty grabbed those trousers and ripped them off in tatters. Harry cried out as his monstrosity was exposed.

The mark of his master, he could smell the blackness slowly oozing from its tip.

Sweeter than anything at honeydukes. "What are you doing you pervert?!" Harry yelled, as his flesh touched his master's.

Unglistening blacker than black oil slowly dribbled out of that delightful monstrous cock more at home on a troll than a man.

Barty easily grabbed Harry's leg, and from his arse, a soddening darkness leaked. Barty was in bliss.

Here, without magic, he was bigger than his lord, his object of affection, his love. His Master!

Barty was drunk and did not care; If this was drowning, he wanted to be beneath that dark forevermore. Barty landed atop the more petite man.

He had to get more of that seductive black. More, MORE!

The shifting and protesting of Harry's slowly tapered off as he rubbed their members together. More of that intoxicating delight flowed out with all the agonizing slowness of honey.

Barty needed more. He required so much more, as the contact to Harry wasn't cutting it.

Barty thrusted, spreading that caliginous slipperiness and smearing it upon them both. Slippery, yet it clung to them stickier than glue.

Barty languidly rubbed the sheer bliss of his skin upon his master's drained-like potion in a sieved cauldron.

He needed intimate contact to be so close and yet to need for more as those emerald green eyes widened in wanted with half-heartedly flailing.

Barty had won as Harry's breathing deepened. That throbbing monstrosity between his legs woke from its torpor to waking throbbing steel.

Barty Junior was enraptured as it dwarfed his own prodding prick. That delightful black honey issued forth in greater quantity, but it was still not enough!

"Did you not say you do not withold affection as punishment?" Barty languished as that haggard breathing was all the confirmation was all he needed.

It was heartbreaking as Barty, with the utmost reluctance and tears in his eyes, got off Harry and dragged his arse the edge of the bed.

Barty placed his crown at Harry's entrance as a battering ram. The languid blackness lazily dripped in large droplets.

A skittering sound resounded behind him, yet Barty didn't care as he rolled his hips in a decadently lazy circle.

Pressing on the barrier where the source of the blackness oozed and pressed forward.

They cried out in tortured bliss as his crown slipped unimpeded into the smaller wizard. He pressed forward on and on until he bottomed out his pubes snug against those heavenly cheeks.

Harry's mouth was open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Barty groaned as he felt the silky caliginous dark stream pass his cock, and he couldn't contain the bliss.

It was like his cock was an inverted finger in the dike; his penetration allowed the blackness to stream into this place.

He felt something pierce his arse, it was too much sensation, and he was too sensitive. What he was began to slip and fray into madness.

He felt it all at once; he was penetrator and penetrated, was saw himself and the terrible skinless thing that had crept and entered; they saw through his eyes and they him.

A moment of ceaseless perfect violation, A moment of transcendent almighty bliss.

The impending orgasm was an inbound tidal wave. He could feel the parts of what made him him. Dissapate like a fading shield charm.

Part of him wanted to get away, to run to flee; the sticky blackness held him firm as Harry pushed back against him, and the one behind him pressed in, striking that spot inside him that made him shudder uncontrollably. Flesh slipped and slid and flowed together. Guided by the darkness steadily streaming into cupboard.

He was no longer in control as the fuck continued unabated.

Pleasure.

Intensified in every loop of this triumvirate.

He rocked back only to be sucked back in as the oil black torrented around his member, soaking him sodden in its blackness. He was dissolving as soap met warm water.

They moaned and drowned out his groan of over-stimulus again, again. Picking up speed toward that point of no return. Flesh hit flesh. Molten wax hit molten wax as that which separated them, that which denied them, languished and fell apart—conjoined by flesh no longer all their own.

Faster and far more intensely, he was harry; he was the thing sodomizing him in turn.

Was he the one the pushed, or the one that pulled? The smell of sex was overwhelming. The stink of their rutting lust, raw and wanton, echoed in his ear. His cry their lips.

He couldn't handle it; Barty Junior drowned in that thundering, cataclysmic orgasm; the last dregs that he was gave way like spun sugar soaked in water. He felt his own balls tighten; he felt the fluid be rawly fucked out of his cock.

Barty slid beneath the unvarnished black.

They trembled, a shuddering mass of limbs shivering from a ceaseless climax.

Barty faded to a rapturous whisper as he was together with his true lord, his objective liege lord. His gloriously dark lord in all things, Closer than lovers, deeper than thoughts.

They would have it no other way.

"You have always placed far too much importance on purity of blood! Cornelius Oswald Fudge!" Dumbledore lectured lightly to the minister of magic.

For how much longer, he couldn't say.

"Not enough, Dumbledore!" Fudge spat back venomously as he sat down in his chair and deflated

"Narcissa murdered, Her son beaten to within an hair of being beyond magical aid itself. Lucius sequestered behind wards so thick even the curse breakers would balk at the sight of his manor!"

"The scions of the sacred twenty-eight are scared, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore wanted to curse the foolish office-loving oaf and be done with it, but niceties had to be addressed first. He was nice, but even he would at least give the poor man some comfort before dropping the guillotine.

There was something a lord could do that would terrify even a self-pitying troll.

A lord had the right to challenge the minister of magic to a duel.
Dumbledore had never denied what he was, but now he was at last in a position to begin to atone for one of his mistakes.

"Minister! Your attention please!" As a courier barged into the room.

It was bad news. Dumbledore could feel it, a pit in his stomach; something terrible happened. He could feel the world begin to shift.

Was this the beginning of the shift? Away from imbalance and back towards the balance of his youth?... before he wrecked it?

"A lord has perished." Dumbledore raised his brow and clasped his wand firmly.

"The crouch line has been extinguished. Bartemius Crouch Junior's body was found.... Kissed."

"As per guidelines, His body was administered a draught of living death, In a state of suspended animation until such a time if ever that a cure can be found for the Kiss."

Uncertainty twinged in his mind. There had always been the distinct possibility that Tom Riddle's so-called death eaters weren't actually death eaters but were, in truth a, creature of someone... else.

He needed time to work through this new information. Dumbledore did not want to think about this, but information might have changed parameters.

Tom's misguided crusade of blood purity was a horrible proliferation of what transpired in his weakest moments. Grindelwald's words had seduced him. He had dared to love another lord and in repayment, his family had been torn asunder!

This was not what he had wanted. A misguided love that took far more than it should have!

A splinter to his broken heart. How had he had been so stupidly naive? He'd never intended such disasters! Never had in his darkest dreams foretold the horrors he would unintentionally.

... A needle of doubt. He... He needed to think, he needed time.
Dumbledore's plans had all hinged on the idea of Tom Riddle being on his own.

If he had help... It would explain many troubling things. If Tom Riddle wasn't a alone wolf, Then the outcome would be far more dire, and the consequences horizon seeking!

He needed to be alone, he needed to ponder and sort this whole mess out. The most damning whisper of all began to percolate in his mind.

What if he'd been wrong?

Dumbledore needed time.

His mind blanked in bafflement at the body of Bartemius Crouch Junior. Floated in by the gesture of a ministry official. How ghoulish!

"How morbidly macabre!"

He had not seen the wizard led so far astray, not since the trial in which he had been condemned for what the young man with a bright future had done.

To torture the Longbottoms alongside Bellatrix Lestrange, it was unspeakable. The face had aged, but without a doubt, it was Bartemius Crouch Junior!

"Dumbledore." The Minister of Magic stated as he watched as the headmaster got up from his seat.

"Cornelius Oswald Fudge, What a spectacular failure you have become. Even now, you spare no expense for those who line your coffers."

"Where is that enchantingly nasty piece of work? Ah- No matter."

"My counsel is wasted on you. You besotted with your love of office! You will allow Tom a second chance to destroy everything we've sought to rebuild."

Dumbledore flicked his wand, and the minister's desk cracked in half. Fudge looked horrified.

"I have errored in allowing you to think that I am content. That old age has addled me. For a time, it was beneficial. I see now, that this has only allowed your delusions to flourish. As with many things, my apologies!"

It started softly as a whisper down his spine. The first few notes of a hauntingly song of unspeakable beauty. As a glorious phoenix burst into the room with a fiery flutter.

His phoenix humbled Dumbledore as the firey song washed away his troubles.

Dumbledore rose to his highest height, "Do not confuse me with an demented old wizard Minister of Magic. You have slandered me; you have spoken lies about me."

"You know the law, and so do I! My good will is spent, force my hand, and I will challenge you before the entire wizengamot and deliver unto you a permanent resignation!"

"There is but one lord in this room, and it is not YOU!"

Dumbledore bellowed as he clapped his hands. His fingertip touched his beloved Fawkes, and he vanished in a crescendo of flame.
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Tarnished Lion