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What it comes down to	By : melinda1293 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 115219 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 5. The Long Night

Harry met Ginny on the first floor landing after depositing his birthday presents on the camp bed in Ron’s bedroom.

“Come into my room a minute, Harry,” she said, grabbing his hand.

Feeling nervous, he glanced around to see if anyone was nearby. He’d never been in her room before. Ginny led him in and closed the door behind her, then turned to face him. She had a hard look in her eyes that he’d seen only a few times before.

“I wanted to get you something special for your birthday, but I couldn’t think what to get.”

“You don’t have to get me anything, Ginny,” he began.

“Something for you to remember me by,” she continued, stepping closer to him. “You know, if you meet some Veela when you’re off with Ron and Hermione, doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

Harry swallowed. Ginny was closing the gap between them, and he ached to touch her.

“Well, I don’t think there will be that many dating opportunities on the ground, to be quite honest,” he told her with a nervous laugh.

“There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for,” she replied. Then she was kissing him like she’d never kissed him before, and he was kissing her back, his hand between her shoulder blades, pulling her into his chest, the other in her glorious hair.

Her hands were on his face, in his hair, holding him firmly to her, pressing his glasses into his face. No Ron burst in on them this time, however, and the kiss deepened, grew more frantic. She ran her tongue along his lips, and Harry opened his mouth automatically to accept it. A thrill of excitement and longing shot through him as they explored each other’s mouths with their tongues, and Harry didn’t care any longer that he was alone with Ginny in her bedroom, that her entire family was downstairs and could come charging in at any moment. Or that he was supposed to be staying away from her now for her own protection. All he could think of was how good she felt, how much he’d missed her, and how much he wanted her. He hadn’t realized she had been slowly walking him backwards until his backside hit the wall and then his head, breaking them apart.

“Oh, God, Ginny,” he groaned. “You’re so beautiful!”

Her eyes blazed again, and she pressed their bodies together from chest to knee. Fire erupted through his veins. His hands gripped her hips, trying to pull her even closer as she ground herself into him. His whole body shook with need, and he moaned in pleasure. They were kissing again, her hands back in his hair, then trailing down his chest and onto the front of his zipper, cupping him. Blood pounded in his ears, his heartbeat frantic in his chest. What she was doing to him was causing his vision to darken with lust, his breath to come in pants, and his head to swim. He had never been with her like this before. She’d never been so bold, and he moaned again when she rubbed him through the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Please don’t stop,” he whispered breathlessly into her hair. “Please don’t.”

“Does it feel good, Harry?”

“Yeeeessss,” he hissed through gritted teeth, which made her laugh into his ear.

But I wasn’t Ginny’s laugh. It was someone else’s, someone he despised. It was the laugh she gave when Harry was chasing her through the Ministry of Magic after Sirius had fallen through the veil.

“I killed Sirius Black,” she sang, laughing her mad laughter.

Harry’s eyes flew open, and he made to sit up, but he was strapped down by his arms and ankles, flat on his back. It only took a moment for him to realize where he was, in the torture room at Malfoy Manor, and who was with him, Bellatrix Lestrange.

“No!” he yelled, balling his hands into fists. “NOOOOO!”

“Come now, Harry,” she purred, leaning over him so he could see her cruel face. “That’s not what you were saying a moment ago. Please don’t stop,” she mocked in breathless tones, an innocent smile spreading across her face.

He was on the table, her hand around his fully erect cock, pumping him slowly. Pre-cum gathered at the tip, lubricating her hand, making it glide over the head, down the shaft and back up again, slowly, rhythmically. God, it felt good. The lingering arousal from the dream still clouded his brain. Harry shook his head violently to clear it, and when that didn’t work, slammed the back of it against the table.

“Get off me!” he growled, trying to get control of the muscles in his back and legs which were straining against his will for more of the sensation she had given him. His arse clenching, he arched off the table, trying to force himself further into her hand as she squeezed the head, pausing on the way back down again to run her thumb around the sensitive rim.

“Oh no, Potter, I don’t think so. I have so many lessons left to teach you, and I’ve got all night.”

He hated her. God, he hated her, almost more than Voldemort. Certainly right now she was at the very top of an ever-growing list. He actually opened his hands, reaching for her, and if he could, he would have wrapped them around her throat, squeezing with all his might, watching the life drain out of her. But he couldn’t touch her. Instead, he fought with himself, waging a war of wills with his own body, trying to deny her everything he could.

Harry tried to block out her voice, to ignore what her hands were doing. He tried to calm his breathing, slow his pounding heart, and relax his muscles one by one. It was like trying to employ Occlumency, but her teaching method in the art was far worse than any lesson Snape had ever made him endure. He would gladly have welcomed a round of mind fucking with Snape right now over this.

He wondered fleetingly if this was how she’d taught her nephew. A disgusting image of Draco in his position, his own aunt fondling him, came to Harry’s mind. It was working, though, he realized with relief, as he finally lay limp on the table, boneless.

Then suddenly she was on him, straddling him, and then he was inside her. FUCK! Her wet heat surrounded him, gripping him, her muscular thighs trapping his sides. Her full breasts were swaying over him as she began to rock her hips into him in a steady rhythm, causing his body to inch up and down the table.

Leaning back, her arms behind her, she gripped his thighs, her nails digging into his flesh as she continued to ride him. Her head was thrown back, pushing her breasts upwards, causing her hardened nipples to point towards the ceiling. Then she was raising herself off him a little, pulling up slightly and then slamming back down, her mouth open, a grunt escaping her on every downward stroke.

She bounced on his swollen cock while rubbing herself vigorously, and it went on and on, until his ears rang, until his vision swam, and he broke out in a cold sweat all over his body. When she was close, she gathered speed, slamming into him with more force, causing the breath to be forced out of him in painful gasps, his body so damaged from the last beating.

Then Harry could see it coming over her. Her whole body flushing with color, the muscles going tense in her thighs. Her lips pulled back from her teeth. Her face was straining, and then with a cry, she came, the muscles surrounding his throbbing cock clenching, and still he hung on, though he was aching, drenched with sweat, shaking from the effort, and almost deaf from the roaring in his ears.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned, rolling her hips, rubbing herself in lazy circles as she came back down, her muscles still convulsing around him sporadically.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never been so hard in his life. His need was actually causing him pain, but he refused to let go because what he hated the most was that she was making him a participant in his own fucking rape!

She sat back up suddenly and laughed, her hands on his chest, her hair falling forward into his face as her warm breath blew across the scar and the sweat-dampened hair on his forehead.

“Well, well, little Harry, you’re better at this than I thought. Who knew someone of your age and experience would have so much stamina.”

“Maybe you’re just a shit teacher,” Harry bit back through gritted teeth, though his body told a different story. “Are you done yet?”

She faltered a moment, but quickly recovered. “I’m just getting started,” she replied coldly, reaching around to fondle his aching balls. “Before I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

She squeezed, pulling the loose skin into her palm, digging her nails in the flesh. Then she was rolling her hips again, and he could feel her squeezing her inner muscles around his engorged dick, making him groan involuntarily.

“Say you want me, Potter,” she ordered, breathlessly.

“No!”

“Tell me how much you need it.”

“No!” he ground out.

Then she reached for her wand. Harry flinched away from it instinctively.

“Imperio,” she cried.

The most wonderful feeling came over Harry. He didn’t know how much pain he’d been in until it was all wiped away. He felt like he was floating, no thoughts in his head, no worries troubling him.

“Tell me you love it, Harry,” she commanded, her voice drifting over him as if from a dream. “You don’t want me to stop, do you? Tell me how good it feels. Please don’t stop,” she prompted. “Say it!”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, his eyes focusing on her face.

“Fuck You!” he spat, and in an instant, the spell was broken as he threw off the curse.

The pain crashed back into his body like the waves at high tide, seemingly worse after the momentary bliss when it had all been taken away. Every inch of him ached, and his breathing was labored as if someone was pressing on his chest. Harry knew he would pay for that remark, but he didn’t care.

Her face registered surprise at first, then turned to fury, and Harry braced for what he knew was coming. He’d seen that look on his uncle’s face enough times to know what to expect for his insolence, and he wasn’t disappointed when the blow came. Bellatrix backhanded him so hard across the cheek, it jerked his head to the side and caused him to bite his own tongue.

“Crucio!” she shouted, and her fury was such that Harry couldn’t even scream.

Sucking in great searing lung-fulls of air as his whole body was set on fire from within, Harry convulsed under her. Blood from his tongue filled his mouth and lungs, and he was aspirating on it. His eyes rolled in his head. Then everything went dark.

“ENVENARATE!” she screamed, and Harry swam reluctantly back into consciousness.

“GODDAMMIT!” he roared. He was so tired, and every muscle in his body was screaming. He’d thought he had beaten her, but she would not be denied.

Planting her hands on his chest, claws digging into his bruised flesh, Bellatrix rode him back to full hardness. She ground into him relentlessly, no longer interested in her own pleasure, but hell bent on making him come, on winning this battle of wills. Yet still he refused, though his body was begging for release.

Then her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard, her thumbs pressing painfully down on his Adam’s apple so that Harry saw stars as she constricted his breathing. He knew it was over then. He could feel himself poising for release, throbbing, the head of his cock expanding, and when he had nearly blacked out from the lack of oxygen, she released him, and he erupted inside her as the rush of fresh oxygen filled his lungs. Shuddering, his whole body heaving, he arched up into her as he came. His arms strained to reach her, to hold her hips to him as his cock convulsed, shooting his seed into her in long streams.

Leave it to Bellatrix to find and exploit the one kink he didn’t even know he had until now: autoerotic asphyxiation. But she knew it now, and had complete control over him. If she could bring him to arousal, she could make him come at will. And she did so several more times during the long night until he had nothing left in him, until he physically could no longer hold an erection, either through her ministrations or by any artificial method like the full body bind, though not for lack of trying. The Petrificus Totalus spell did work the first time.

When she finally left him in the morning, Harry felt raw, delirious from sleep deprivation, exhausted, his whole body begging to shut down for a while.

~ . ~

For those of you worried, this won't be a H/D pairing. It's not exactly a romance fic :) Harry is in love with Ginny, Ron's in love with Hermione. Draco is Draco, Snape is Snape. It's simply my random fantasies of Harry being abused sexually and physically that I'm trying to string together into a story. I'm not saying that there won't be an encounter with Draco or Snape (Particularly with Snape. The hatred between them is too tempting to ignore) in future chapters though but it won't be a major theme or anything.
I really hate (or suck at) dialogue so the silencing charm made that easy for me. Now that it's down, even if only temporarily, its harder for me to write.
While I think these experiences will fundamentally change Harry, and the relationship of the trio. Harry won't be falling in love with one of his tormentors, or saviors for that matter.
It's set, of course, during the time of the Deathly Hallows but I am changing certain things to suit myself as I have been fantasizing about some of these things since book 5!

I'm writing this for myself. Mostly to see where it goes and to satisfy my own curiosity about the images I have conjured over the years, but I appreciate all the comments,especially the constructive ones as this is the first time I've ever written fanfiction. Thank you for reading.
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What it comes down to

Chapter 5. The Long Night