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Wolf in the Making	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8561 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

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Chapter Seven—Destruction

            Harry rose early in the morning, before Malfoy’s light possessive clutch of him across the waist could become a real problem. He grimaced at his ripped shirt. It really was the only one he had, and all the promises in the world wouldn’t be able to clothe him. He rubbed at his chest as he thought.

            Then he raised his head defiantly. Why should he wonder what the other people in Fox Valley thought? The magic-drained victims were too tired to notice anything anyway. The other Marked ones would only think it meant he had finally had sex with Malfoy, and they would be too satisfied to ask questions.

            He strode out of his house, shoulders bristling with tension. But the only ones abroad were a few couples who stayed in the other houses, and as he had thought, they glanced at him and then away as if he were of no account.

            Harry sighed and made his way towards Malfoy’s office. The sooner he got hold of those bracelets Malfoy had been kind enough to babble about, the better. He hoped it wouldn’t take him long to figure out how to use them, and that Malfoy would wake with no memory of last night except the obvious ones.

            The bite mark on his shoulder promptly throbbed in response to the Mark on his arm. Harry bared his teeth. He hadn’t chosen either one of them, but his slavery to them wouldn’t last long now.

*

            Draco opened his eyes. He was cold, and he rolled over and snuggled against his bed partner, wondering if he had deliberately cast a Chilling Charm so that Draco would wake up and have him again.

            He met only sheets, not a cold body.

Draco lay still for some time, letting his rage build. Potter had discarded common notions of decency and courtesy since he arrived in Fox Valley, so perhaps this shouldn’t have been a surprise. But this was more than decency and courtesy, Draco thought. It was a deliberate attempt to ignore what had happened here, and that, he wouldn’t let Potter do.

He took his time about sitting up and stretching. He thought he knew where Potter would be: in the field, practicing his morning Auror exercises and trying to drive the response of his body out of his mind by making himself physically exhausted.

But when Draco concentrated on the sense of Potter in his mind, it pointed towards the center of the Valley, towards his office. In fact, Potter was just then ascending the stairs and passing through the wards that Draco had tuned so that none of his Marked ones would be attacked. They were constantly in and out of his office, running errands, and he didn’t have time to lift the wards each time they needed entrance.

            Draco murmured, “An odd choice.” He didn’t care that no one was there to hear him; he felt as if Potter could sense the words anyway. “Why would you go there? Do you intend to destroy my records in thanks for my seduction of you last night?”

            He allowed himself a smile then, and the memories came rushing back, dancing around his body and mind in a warm, sticky flood like semen. The way Potter’s back had arched when Draco touched him. The way he’d endured it with a humiliated, horrified expression on his face, but yielded the moment Draco put a hand on his cock. His wonderful response to the bite.

            Draco would pound those memories into Potter’s mind by Legilimency if he had to, rather than allow him to deny what had happened between them.

            He rose when he was ready and glanced around the room disdainfully. Potter had refused all the many luxuries that Draco could have offered him, but there was a difference between that and living a poor existence, and he did. Draco would order him into different rooms immediately, rooms closer to Draco’s own and filled with the riches that the current lover of the Fox should enjoy.

            He didn’t hurry to his office. He didn’t have the need. He went at a slow stroll, turning the memories over in his head and chuckling now and then, as well as nodding to his Marked ones when they met him. They all turned to stare after him in wonder, seeming to doubt he could actually be in such a good mood in the morning.

            Let them wonder. Draco would introduce them to Potter in his new role soon enough.

*

            Harry got inside the office easily enough, and had located the drawer with a quick whispered spell that searched for locking charms. Then he’d turned and put a locking charm of his own on the door. It looked like nothing more than a spiderweb, if a large one, but it would take enormous power to break through it. Malfoy probably had the power because of his stored magic.

            On the other hand, Harry hadn’t noticed him wearing any bracelets or other obvious places to store that power last night. He hoped Malfoy would have to hammer through it, and would be exhausted when he finally broke into the office.

            Now, he thought, and began to unwind the locking charms.

            It wasn’t difficult to do this when one understood how the charms inevitably intertwined, but it still took time and patience. Harry focused his eyes on the places where the “hooks” of one spell ran into the “hooks” of another, and chanted softly under his breath, never letting the spells falter as he waved his wand. He couldn’t be sure how much Malfoy would remember of the conversation last night.

            Even if he remembered nothing, it was too much to hope that he wouldn’t notice the disappearance of his two most powerful magical artifacts. Harry intended to take only one, and leave a glamour of the other in its place. That ought to pass at a quick glance, and Malfoy probably wouldn’t have a reason to reach for them both any time soon.

            Until we go after Robards.

            Harry shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. He would just have to figure out how to use the stored magic before then, that was all.

            He had undone two of the locking charms when someone knocked on the door, and Malfoy’s effortlessly polite voice said, “I do hope that you’re entertaining yourself in there without destroying anything, Harry.”

            Harry’s skin crawled, and it was difficult for him to breathe or say anything for long moments. Malfoy was such an actor. Everything he did was false, every word intended for a lie. Harry wondered that he didn’t get tired of it.

            More, he wondered how Malfoy possibly thought he could be attractive to someone like Harry, who lived by the rules of honesty.

            Easy, Harry snapped back at himself. He doesn’t care about being attractive to me. In fact, he probably relishes the challenge of not being my first choice, because he wants to crush resistance and make me into his lover against my will. He wouldn’t enjoy it as much if I came to him with open arms.

            Harry wished that he was a good enough actor to pretend to like Malfoy and so put him off, but he wasn’t, and Malfoy knew it. He bent down to work on the locking charm again.

*

            Draco sighed. Potter hadn’t responded to his sally, even with a grumble or a curse, and that meant he was going to be difficult. Well, Draco was armed with his memories and his new knowledge of Potter’s body. He was fairly confident that he could bring the most difficult lover to his knees with a few discreet touches. The knowledge was only a garnish.

            He reached out, gripped the door handle, and then found he couldn’t turn it. He might as well have been touching a fake decoration of wood.

            Draco paused and raised his eyebrows. So Potter thought he could use magic against Draco? He was about to find out that he couldn’t, at least not without Draco’s knowledge and cooperation, as he’d received during their duels.

            Draco did consider for a moment before he laid his left arm against the door. He was revealing a powerful secret that, of all his Marked ones, only Lisa knew about, since he had had to work the hardest to subdue her. But he decided, in the end, that it was worth it. He had to make Potter understand that his rebellions were largely useless.

            Potter’s Mark was on one side of the door. Draco was on the other, and so was the patch of skin on his left arm that should have borne the Mark if he had consented to have one. It was attuned to his slaves’ Marks besides. He only had to attune them more closely, think of the stylized fox and the mirror magic in the Mark, and then command the barrier between them to get out of the way.

            It did, in the simplest way possible. There was a distinct spluttering noise that a locking charm made when undone, and the door swung open. Draco strolled in.

            He was just in time to catch a glimpse of Potter springing back from his desk and turning to face him, while stuffing a jade-and-silver bracelet in his pocket. His eyes were wild, his mouth contorted in a snarl.

            He looked, at the moment, more like the vision of himself that Draco had seen in dreams than he had ever seen him look in waking life.

            “What are you doing here?” Potter said, voice low enough to vibrate in Draco’s bones.

            Draco did feel the urge to laugh as he shut the door behind him, though, and nearly gave in to it. He would have if he didn’t want to keep the mood serious for Potter’s sake.

            “This is my office,” he responded, walking closer. Potter’s eyes went darker still. They looked like jade, Draco thought, like the jade pieces in the bracelet he had picked up. “I have every right to be here. What are you doing here?”

            Potter seemed to hang in the balance between lying and telling the truth, between giving in and resisting. Draco had never had a Marked one, or for that matter a visitor to the Valley, who intrigued him so much. He didn’t know what was going to happen, which rendered him less in control of the situation than he liked, but also made him more interested. He waited, his arms folded and his head slightly bowed so that he wouldn’t miss a single flicker of expression that might cross Potter’s face.

*

            Harry was burning with pure, uncomplicated rage. He had almost forgotten what that felt like, given the complexities of his situation since he had come to the Valley and found himself as neatly trapped by his plans as he wanted Malfoy to be.

            I am going to destroy him. I have to destroy him. But I don’t know what will happen if I can’t kill him immediately—and he claims that the Mark can last beyond death. I don’t think he’s telling the truth, but there’s no way I can risk it until I know more.

            But he wanted to lash out. Oh, how he wanted to do that. No desire had ever been so strong, not even the desire for his friends’ company after they had moved to Australia. He had to destroy.

            And he had to keep the desire in check.

            Harry reached down into the depths of his soul and brought back his control, somehow. He knotted it around his rage like a net of many meshes and weighed it down to the point that he could manage a casual shrug. “I wanted to challenge you,” he said, honestly, though the words didn’t have the meaning that Malfoy would assign them. “I wanted to see what would happen if I broke into the office and took one of your bracelets.” He touched the bracelet that still stood out of his pocket with casualness that he hoped would fool Malfoy. “Is this one that you’re going to let me use? You did promise to share the stored magic with me, let me access it, if I remember your words accurately.”

            Malfoy crossed the room with a light leap and a bound, landing directly in front of Harry and gripping his wrists. Harry had expected the sudden movement, had even noted spells in the room that he knew were meant to let Malfoy move more quickly, but it was still a shock to see it happen right in front of him. He twitched and stiffened, and it was a greater effort not to pull back when Malfoy took his wrists than it had been to subdue his fury.

            “You didn’t pick that bracelet randomly,” Malfoy said quietly. He smoothed his fingers up and down the skin over Harry’s pulse, smiling into Harry’s eyes as if he could see every change of his emotions and valued them. Harry felt the black hatred trying to eat into his soul and shivered again with holding it down. “You would have to get through threefold locking charms before you could touch it. What made you choose it?”

            “I sensed the power,” Harry said, with a shrug that he hoped would convince Malfoy to release him. It didn’t. Harry was rapidly losing his control with Malfoy touching him like this, so he planted his feet next to the desk and shrugged more firmly.

            “Did you not wonder how I came through the door, through the locking spell that you had so cleverly set up?” Malfoy breathed. He shifted his weight and leaned forwards, maintaining his hold and bending Harry down over the desk. Then he bent down on top of him, so that their faces were less than an inch apart. His breath was warm and moist on Harry’s lips. The bite mark on Harry’s shoulder throbbed, and Harry didn’t think it was just because it was pushed against the wood of the desk. “Do you not worry about my power, start when you see it, admire it?”

            “Nothing could make me admire you,” Harry said. Words were the only outlet he had at the moment. Yes, he could let himself go and hit Malfoy, but he knew that if he did that right now, when his anger was boiling and churning beneath the surface, he would seriously try to kill him. The time wasn’t right for that yet.

*

            Draco knew how to read the signals of eyes and hands, faces and bodies. And everything from the flush on Potter’s face to the flash in his eyes said that he was on the edge of exploding.

            No hardness, though, from the push of Draco’s groin against Potter’s. He had hoped there would be. He let his weight drape more firmly there and smiled into Potter’s eyes, wanting to goad him into leaping. Then Draco could meet him with mouth and hands and show the “punishment” he had in mind for him.

            “Are you sure about that?” Draco whispered. “I know that you admire new Dark knowledge, that you fight wizards whom the Aurors assign you to hunt but that you also pick up their tricks. What if I showed you new spells? What if I let you have access to the stored magic, under my proper supervision, without your having to break in and steal it? Wouldn’t that be a good basis for admiration?”

            Potter laughed. The sound could have cracked glass. “You mistake practicality for admiration,” he said. “Yes, of course I would take what I could from you, so that I could destroy you in the end. You have this mad idea that I’m going to fall in love with you or something. I’m never going to forget that you enslaved me, Malfoy. Never.”

            Draco smiled. He understood the words for what they were: a defense against Potter’s own feelings, his own arousal and desire and slow longing for the way that Draco could touch and teach him. Yes, he might miss his freedom, but freedom was just an abstraction. He was hardly a slave at the moment, when Draco had never forced him to do anything after the first day when he had demonstrated the Mark’s capabilities.

            “Come, come,” Draco said, and then chuckled at his own awful pun. He reached down and cupped Potter’s groin, rubbing gently. Yes, there was a stirring under his fingers less than a second later. “You can’t deny that you enjoyed what we did last night.”

            Potter’s eyes flickered open and shut erratically. His breathing was so harsh that Draco might have been worried if he hadn’t been lying right on top of him and known the cause for that harshness. Potter shifted, spreading his legs wider, and Draco settled between them more comfortably, never taking his eyes off Potter’s face or his fingers off his cock.

            He had never envisioned that he could have a permanent companion when he began accumulating power and wealth. Someone would always hate him because of that power and wealth. He could have slept with his Marked ones, but that wasn’t much to his taste when they would only give in because of the Mark.

            But here was someone who resisted and who was just as interested in the accumulation of power as Draco was, though for different reasons. With some persuasion, Draco thought he could teach him to be interested in the accumulation of wealth, too. It would have been harder to detach him from the Aurors, but Robards had handily accomplished that. The news Draco had heard from outside the Valley claimed that Potter had died in a heroic effort on a secret investigation and that the wizarding world was mourning him.

            Here was someone Draco wanted to fuck, and fuck again, and corrupt, and seduce. Here was a Dark wizard who wouldn’t acknowledge that he was Dark and who had personal reasons to despise Draco—and was acting more out of them at the moment than out of morality, whatever he might think.

            Here was someone who would provide the same endless challenge that the accumulation of power and money did, and of whom Draco would never grow tired.

            He had to possess Potter. Never mind the cost. Draco had been avoiding high costs all his life, or finding unorthodox means to pay them. He would find a way around the cost that his instincts were warning him of now: that Potter might kill him.

*

            Fool. Idiot. You were trying to convince him he was seducing you, and resisting him like this will only set your plan back!

            Harry shut his eyes, shivering. And it wasn’t because of the shivers of desire trying to creep through him as Malfoy rubbed his erection, thanks very much, because Harry needed an emotional connection to make sex mean anything. That had always been true.

            He had exploded because he could not stand lying beneath Malfoy and being talked down to. It was respond or have a rage attack that might result in random destructions of things in the room with wandless magic, including the bracelet he wanted to possess.

            The bracelet.

            It gave him the seeds of a plan. He would challenge Malfoy to share the stored magic with him willingly, as he had promised but not done yet, with an implicit promise himself to trust and believe if Malfoy did it. There was no way he could disguise his intense hatred at the moment, but he could make up for it, and by the best of all possible methods: letting Malfoy believe he was corrupting Harry as well as seducing him.

            Harry waited until he was sure that he wouldn’t lash out and destroy Malfoy the way he had wanted to, and then clenched his fingers around the bracelet and pulled it out of his pocket. “I can tell this is powerful,” he said. “Were you actually going to let me have the power inside it, the way you claimed you were the other day? Or was that another ruse to get me into your bed and wank me like you haven’t touched another person since you were sixteen?”

            Malfoy’s eyes went bright. Harry relaxed, a bit. He knew the difference between anger and desire on Malfoy’s face.

            Perhaps how he knew that was a bit disturbing, but he had enough complications with considering his own reactions to Malfoy’s seduction strategies. He wasn’t going to go out of his way to worry about how he knew other things.

            “I offered you the power if you work at my side, with me,” Malfoy said. His lips barely moved, and his hold on Harry’s wrists had changed to a simple pressure instead of a half-caress. He had moved his body back so that their groins no longer pressed together, either. “I thought you would have a moral problem taking the magic from people.”

            Harry snorted. “This magic is already drained. I would be a fool if I spent too much time worrying about where the resource came from when I could be thinking how to use it.”

            He let bitterness and frustration leak into his voice, and Malfoy smiled.

            He isn’t to know where the frustration and bitterness really come from, Harry thought, and glared up at him until Malfoy moved back and let him go. Harry had barely stood up when Malfoy seized him again, whirling him around so that Harry’s back pressed tight to his chest and linking his arms together around Harry’s waist.

            Harry controlled his reaction to that, too. This is all part of the plan. Remember that he has to trust you enough to teach you something, or your plan won’t matter and won’t work. Do what you have to do and regret later.

            “Understand this,” Malfoy whispered to him, breath hissing in Harry’s ear like a Muggle gas leak. “I’ll have no problem crippling you if you betray me. I’ll never kill you. It’s too much fun to own you. Push me too far and you’ll find out what being owned means.” He traced one long finger over Harry’s Mark. “Do you understand?”

            Harry nodded jerkily and tried to tear himself free, assuming Malfoy had made his point. But Malfoy ran his finger up Harry’s chest to his left nipple and pinched it roughly, rolling it between his fingers until he had made some point known only to himself. Harry had to grit his teeth against the pleasure that impaled him.

            “Good,” Malfoy said, and then stepped away from him and picked up the other jade-and-silver bracelet from the drawer that Harry had opened as if nothing had happened. “This is how you access the stored magic…”

            Harry paid close, furious attention, determined that he would learn all he needed to know before their attack on Robards. He had “submitted” to Malfoy for the present because he wanted revenge and freedom. The moment he had his revenge, there was no reason to stay.

            I still wish I could destroy him, but escaping is more important.

*

            Draco was well-content. Potter was still struggling, still dancing on the slippery slope, which was expected, but he would fall at last. No one whose eyes grew so bright with appreciation of the skills Draco was teaching could escape the pit forever.

            I will be happiest when he comes begging for me to fuck him, but keeping him willingly at my side is more important.

*

            Clau: Harry has to ignore that inner voice, or at least part of his self-confidence will collapse, and his chances of escape with it.

            Ron and Hermione will be showing up in the third story at least. As for what the rest of the world thinks, Robards controls all the information, and he’s done a good job of spreading lies around.

            mrequecky: Thank you!

            SP777: Harry has noticed Draco’s obsession, thus his comment in this chapter. ;)

            Draco’s people help mostly with the administrative duties of the Valley. No matter what Draco’s obsession, he’s smart enough not to place him in charge of the Valley.

            Oscillum: Thanks so much!

            polka dot: Harry always intended to move fast.

            thrnbrooke: Draco has not remembered so far.

            purple-er: Thank you!
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Wolf in the Making