Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 71
- 72
- 73
Revenge
Harry woke Draco with soft kisses. He’d cracked open their bed hangings and let in the lamp light to dance and flutter over them. Draco sighed, tension leaving his frame as he pulled Harry against his chest.
Their lips slid sensually and slowly against each other, Draco’s tongue taking languid swipes at the inside of Harry’s mouth. His hands tangled in Harry’s thick, messy hair as they kissed, scratching gently at the boy’s scalp and making him shiver. It felt amazing to have Harry’s warm, pliant body pressed against his. It felt like home and comfort.
Sighing again, Draco broke their kiss, trailing his wet lips along Harry’s jaw. His hands tightened in his boy’s hair, lifting Harry’s head so that he could get to his throat. Harry gave a soft whine as Draco bit down on his leather collar.
* Love you, * he whispered into his boy’s mind.
- joy LOVE - poured through the bond like warm syrup.
“What time is it?” Draco whispered, hands exploring Harry’s naked back and sides.
Harry pulled away to reach for his glasses and Draco’s watch. It had been a gift from Ted for Draco’s eleventh birthday. It had a thin black leather band and a round silver face. The background was a light emerald green in color, nearly the exact shade of Harry’s crystalline eyes. The numbers were roman numerals and the hands were thin and delicate with a spade-like shape at each tip. Draco didn’t prefer to have things around his wrists or fingers, but he’d taken to wearing the watch once they’d started Hogwarts.
Harry read it carefully and answered, “Quarter to six.”
Draco sat up and ran his hands through his hair with a frustrated frown. He’d missed his midnight meeting with the twins! He wondered how upset they’d be if he went and woke them up now. Mentally shrugging, he decided to find out.
“You have Quidditch practice in thirty minutes. Get ready,” Draco ordered.
Quidditch season hadn’t officially started yet, but Wood was running practice for last year’s members twice a week - on Tuesday and Thursday. Once try-outs were held and the season officially kicked off, practice would be five days a week - Monday through Friday morning, six-fifteen to eight.
“I’m going to go talk to Fred and George. I’ll meet you at the pitch to walk you to breakfast.” Draco felt safe enough letting Harry go alone. Very few people were awake at this hour and the dust had yet to settle after the last attack. Harry should be safe.
“Yes, Draco.” Harry smiled and happily accepted the last gentle kiss that Draco placed on his lips. He climbed out of bed, but looked back curiously as Draco grabbed his wrist.
Draco crawled to the edge of the bed and sat, lifting Harry’s nightshirt. He ran a hand over the fading yellow and green bruises on each soft butt cheek. It would be a couple more days before they healed fully. Riding a broom must be painful.
Draco looked up at Harry and considered healing it, but the calmness of the green eyes that stared back at him over a soft, round shoulder decided him against it. The bruises still hurt, but Harry wasn’t upset about it and it really was a lesson that Draco wanted Harry to take to heart. With that in mind, he took a handful of each round cheek and squeezed a bit, making Harry hiss softly under his breath.
“Remember to be careful,” Draco whispered against Harry’s neck, the boy’s head bowed submissively forward. “You need to make sure you’re always well enough to heal us if necessary.” He stood and hugged the boy from behind before giving him a gentle shove forward. “Now get ready,” he repeated.
Harry obeyed with another soft, “Yes, Draco,” filled with - regret determination gratitude.
“Good boy,” he murmured and accepted the school uniform Harry handed him.
…
Draco found the twins’ room by stalking silently through the dark dorms one by one. He shook his head in wonder. Not one of the doors had been locked. He wondered briefly what the others would think when they realized they locked their door at night. Draco shook his head. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it.
He found the twins in the fourth room that he searched. He smiled when he saw that they shared a bed. They didn’t cuddle, however. One twin was almost diagonal across the mattress, his arms and legs flung wide. The other lay on their side with their arms and legs pulled close. If he had to guess, he bet it was Fred sprawled out and George curled up.
Draco climbed onto the bed with them, kneeling by the teen curled up on his side, and pulled the hangings closed to muffle his voice. He left it cracked toward the top so that some of the lamp light would spill inside.
“George, Fred,” he whispered softly in the dark. “Wake up.”
The twin closest to him gave a sleepy mumble and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. The one sprawled out curled up, mirroring his brother as he rolled onto his side.
“George.” Draco poked the redhead’s shoulder. He was more sure than ever that was who lay next to him. “Wake up, George.”
A brown eye cracked open, the exact same color as their older brother Percy. “Wha?” he slurred.
“Sorry I didn’t meet you. I was… busy. Can we meet now?” he asked gently, grey eyes warm and earnest.
George snaked his arm out and pulled Draco down with an arm hooked around his waist. “It’s okay. Just a dream…” the redhead soothed sweetly. He tucked Draco against his chest, his cheek rubbing sleepily against Draco’s soft, white-blond hair.
Draco laughed quietly. “I didn’t have a bad dream, George, but thank you. Come on, wake up…” He wiggled around so that he faced George and ran his hand over the redhead’s face in gentle swipes from his forehead, over his nose, and back up. “What were you guys going to show me?”
“Show?” George’s eyes blinked slowly open once more only to close again. “Tha’s nice.”
Draco sighed and stopped. He couldn’t imagine going back to sleep when someone was touching him. The twins were weird. He shook the teen’s shoulder a bit more firmly. “Yeah, what were you going to show me?”
George’s eyes opened up and squinted at him. “What time s’it?”
Draco slithered his arm up between their chests and checked his watch. He had to squint in the low light. “Almost six-fifteen.”
“Six…” Fred groaned from behind his brother. “Really. And you're in our bed, why?”
“I wanted to know what you were going to show me,” Draco explained patiently. “To help me get past the portraits.”
“At six,” Fred repeated grumpily.
“Yes,” Draco said, amused. He still lay in George’s loose embrace, looking into the teen’s sleepy eyes from only a few inches away. “What time do you usually get up?”
“Depends,” George answered in a sleepy whisper. “Is it for a prank?”
“Trust me. It’ll be epic,” Draco promised, voice dark and low.
Fred’s head appeared above George’s shoulder, propped up by his hand. “Fine.” He sat up and stretched, whacking his brother across the back. “Up, George.”
George grumbled, hugged Draco one last time, and sat up. “Fine. I’m up.”
Draco flashed them a winning smile, sitting up with them. “Great!”
Fred climbed out of bed and grabbed something from their trunk. Draco took note that the trunk at least had been locked with at least three spells as far as Draco could tell. It made him relax a little, knowing he wasn’t be seen as strange by the others for locking their dorm door. Not that he cared what anyone thought about him, but he’d come to realize that it sometimes caused more problems than it was worth when they got too much negative attention.
Fred climbed back onto the bed, maneuvering so that Draco sat between him and George. They put their heads close to Draco’s and slowly unveiled their treasure.
It was a map. A very, very special map. It was… beyond anything Draco could have conceived. It had every secret passage and everyone in the castle marked out in real time.
With wide yes, Draco touched the soft parchment with reverent fingers. He wanted it badly, but he knew they’d never give it up, which made him insanely frustrated for a brief moment before he took a deep breath. At least the map existed at all and the twins would let him use it occasionally. He should be grateful.
The mental pep-talk only did so much. Draco still wanted it, but he was able to relax his shoulders and smile at the twins. “This is brilliant.”
They nodded in unison and echoed with solemn agreement, “Brilliant.”
“How did you figure out the code words to turn it on and off?” Draco asked curiously, eyes bright with excitement, a lock of blond hair falling across his face.
“Well, when it’s off and you speak to it while tapping it with your wand, words appear and talk back,” George explained.
Fred grinned. “After enough experiments, we were able to piece together clues by the end of First-year and voila!”
“We opened the Marauder’s Map,” they said together, clearly proud of themselves.
“Amazing.” Draco forced his hand to drop from the pages. “So what’s your advice?”
They put their heads together and figured out a way to bypass the portraits and get Draco to the Slytherin common room without being seen. In return, Draco described his plan. Fred and George stared at him for a moment before breaking into identical grins.
“Epic,” the said together, their voices one.
Just over an hour later, Draco left the twins and trotted happily out to the pitch. Today was going to be a great day. Not only would he get his revenge, it was also Tuesday. Tuesday was one of only two class days where they didn’t have a class with Slytherin. The only other day that happened was Friday.
Today they had their Potions intensive with just the Gryffindor First-years, History of Magic and Herbology with Hufflepuff, and their Transfiguration practical with Ravenclaw. Neville had been studying Potions hard every night, so when they were given a quiz, he answered two out of three questions right.
It still wasn’t an O, but it was passing. When Draco gave him a nod of recognition, it made Neville so happy that he became even more determined to get an O and earn his forgiveness. Hermione, of course, was the only one who answered all three questions correctly.
Harry felt terrible, answering only two out of the three correctly. Draco had gotten the same score, but it was because they hadn’t been studying as much as they could be. The rest of the class only answered one right, which was a failing grade.
Professor Binns began his lecture almost as soon as they walked in and concluded over an hour later with, “Another very notable moment in history during this time, children, was the wildcat Gargoyle Strike of 1911. Now, a wildcat strike action is a strike action undertaken by unionized workers without union leadership’s authorization, support, or approval. This is sometimes termed an unofficial industrial action. Wildcat strikes were the key pressure tactic union workers would use against the unjust workforce as well as a complacent union. The wildcats were winning during the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 when something noteworthy happened. I want you to write three inches inferring from what I’ve told you today what that action may have been and include an explanation supporting your hypothesis.”
They staggered out of his class groggy from listening to his ghostly voice and in desperate need of a dictionary. Lunch was just the thing they needed to perk themselves back up and fortunately the following two classes were more hands on. They practiced the Fire-Making Spell in Herbology so that they would be able to handle the Spiky Bush that they would be dealing with in their classes next week.
As a demonstration and to motivate the students, Professor Sprout had brought a potted one into the class. The terrifying bush was small since it was in a pot, and she promised the ones in the greenhouse would be twice as big.
The potted plant stood about half their height, but it was three times as wide and almost perfectly round. It had pale yellow spikes growing out of the thick green leaves. Professor Sprout demonstrated its danger by approaching with a fast, violent hand gesture. The yellow spikes were launched through the air with horrifying speed. A quick Incendio and the spikes turned to ash before they impaled the short, chubby woman.
In Transfiguration, they reviewed the transformation formula, which was that the intended transformation was directly influenced by bodyweight, viciousness, wand power, concentration, and a fifth unknown variable. Then they began to try to transform matches into needles. It was surprisingly difficult, but Hermione was again able to master the new spell in a single class period, much to the rest of the class’s frustration and Harry’s shame.
Harry wasn’t proud of his academic progress so far. He needed to do better. He had to find time to study and practice more. He refused to be a burden to Draco. After class, they had almost an hour before dinner, so he asked politely if anyone wanted to join him in the library. Hermione instantly agreed. So did Neville.
Draco frowned thoughtfully. “Go straight there and wait for me to get you before going down to dinner,” he decided. “I have something to do.”
Harry agreed, but Hermione bristled at Harry being ordered around.
“He can do what he wants. If you’re so worried, come with us,” she snapped and crossed her arms firmly over her chest.
Draco stared her down, making her blush and scowl. “Harry’s not your concern,” he said lowly. “You have your own problems to worry about, Hermione,” he finished with brutal honesty.
They were just into their second week of school and already the rest of the Gryffindor First-years were beginning to avoid her like the plague. Her reputation for being a stuck-up know-it-all was spreading. Hardly anyone except for Neville would willingly partner with her in classes.
Harry and Neville shifted nervously, looking back and forth between their faces.
Hermione glared, but she said nothing.
Draco finally moved his eyes back to Harry. “See you soon.”
Harry’s eyes dropped submissively as he answered, “Yes, Draco.”
* Good boy, * Draco praised in a whisper directly into Harry’s mind.
Harry’s head came back up, a happy flush brightening his cheeks.
Hermione complained about Draco all the way to the library until Harry was able to distract her with their assignments. Their Magical Theory essay was due tomorrow. Harry and Neville had only written half of it, much to Hermione’s horror.
…
Draco made his way quickly to the owlery. He took out the treats he’d put in his pocket and fed Hedwig some before launching her out the window with the order to go to Remus. He’d given the man enough time to get what he needed ready.
Draco perched in the window as he waited for her to return and quickly scratched out the outlines of an essay that was due tomorrow. He didn’t have to wait long. About half an hour later, Hedwig winged back in over his head, dropping a fist-sized box into his lap.
With a dangerous grin, Draco carelessly shoved his essay into his bag and immediately headed back into the castle along the route he’d memorized with the twins early that morning. His heart thundered in his chest. Soon he’d have his revenge. He’d make it clear there would be a heavy cost for attacking who was his.
His vision almost tunneled in, he was so focused on his task. Every sound, smell, and shifting shadow registered as he moved silently through the secret corridors and rarely-used back hallways. No portrait saw him. No ghost sensed his presence. Draco was hunting, and he wouldn’t be stopped until he had the blood of his prey filling his mouth.
Heart beating strong in his chest, Draco slipped out of the shadows at the door to the Slytherin common room. A whispered password later, provided by the devious twins of course, he was able to crack the door. Luck was with him, no one was inside, thanks to the Felix Felicis that Remus had bought. Remus had also provided the shrunk crate.
Draco slipped in quickly and went to the nearest dark corner. He pulled the nearly fist-sized wooden box out of his pocket and tapped it three times with his wand. It expanded to almost four times its size. The soft sounds of something moving inside of it could be heard, making Draco grin fiercely. This next part would be tricky. It would require all of his concentration and willpower. Draco summoned the memory of Harry floating limp, blood spilling, face pale as death and found all the determination he needed.
…
Harry shifted subtly on his chair. The library chairs were harder than the ones in the classrooms or even the Great Hall. Probably to keep students who were studying late into the night awake, but it made his butt ache fiercely.
The sharp burn reminded him of the bed digging into his stomach and the repeated blows that struck his burning skin, sending pain shooting up his spine. It made him remember Draco’s tearful eyes and the worry and exhaustion there. Made him remember his failure.
“Harry,” Hermione hissed, annoyed. She tapped the table in front of him. “You’re clearly tired. Let’s go eat. Dinner started nearly half an hour ago!”
Harry shook his head, keeping his face averted. He felt unexpectedly raw, his mask slipping from his features. He pulled his transfiguration textbook closer, lifting the muggle pencil more firmly in his hand to take more notes in his composition notebook. He had to study. He had to get better. He had to be strong enough to help Draco.
“Five more minutes,” Neville asked softly, trying to keep the peace.
This was the third time he'd asked for more time and Hermione wasn’t having it, her face painted red with frustration. She had opened her mouth to insist more strongly that Harry put away his books and come eat when Draco strode into the library distracting her. The blond had his hair tucked tightly behind his ears. It was darker than normal and oily from sweat. He had dust and grime on one cheek and across his forehead, his school robe looked as if it had been hastily brushed off, and the tips of his short nails were dark with dirt underneath.
“What were you doing?” she demanded. It annoyed her to no end that Harry, who just as second ago had refused to go to dinner, had immediately closed his books.
Draco gave her a cool look, his expression hard. He deliberately didn’t answer, instead looking to Harry and grabbing his hand. Hermione glared at the blond’s back the whole way to dinner, ignoring Neville’s every attempt to distract her with conversation.
…
Percy had been busy carrying out Draco’s request. Throughout the last few days, he’d casually spread the information that Harry had needed seven healing spells and two potions to the right people. He emphasized that, had Harry not been minutes from the Infirmary, he’d likely have died from the fall. That meant by the end of dinner Tuesday night everyone knew about it.
He gave Draco a subtle nod as he ate. The blond didn’t acknowledge him in any way and yet Percy knew with certainty that Draco had seen and understood his signal. He smiled down into his soup, content to wait to see what the boy had planned.
…
Draco positioned himself so that he was standing at the Great Hall doors, supposedly waiting for Harry who had gone back to the Weasley twins to tell them something, when the group of Slytherin Third-years began to leave the Hall after dinner. Draco watched them with with hard, predatory eyes.
The teens shifted with unease and unconsciously grouped even tighter together as they walked up to the blond, their voices dropping to nervous whispers. When it was clear that Draco was staring at Pucey, the group parted, none of the other teens wanting to stand close to the target of that intimidating stare as they walked past.
Pucey felt almost compelled to meet Draco’s silver-eyed stare. His face went pale and then flushed red with defensive anger. His hands fisted at his sides and he glared hatefully back at the younger, smaller boy. “What are you looking at?” he spat furiously.
Draco gave a closed-mouth smile that had not an ounce of humor in it. “You know, I heard an interesting legend earlier and it made me think of you.”
Sweat slicked Pucey’s palms, making his clenched fists feel damp. “Yeah?” he blustered. “I don’t fucking care.” He began to stomp past.
“Hogwarts will take revenge on those who make her chosen bleed,” Draco said in a soft, dangerous voice.
Pucey continued past, pretending he hadn’t heard.
Of course, the few students who still sat near the doors definitely had and excited whispers began to spread across the Hall.
“Sorry, Draco,” Harry said sweetly, smiling as he returned to the blond's side. “I’m finished.”
“It’s okay,” Draco answered, expression relaxed, the dangerous edge to his features completely gone. He took the slightly smaller boy’s hand in his own. “Come on.”
…
Deep in the dungeons, the door to the Slytherin common room opened as the first group of kids returned from dinner and triggered a timing spell Draco had painstakingly laid according to Remus’s explicit and detailed instruction.
Unwary and oblivious, Slytherins of all ages gathered in the nooks and crannies of the common room. They talked about school, plots, and gossip, relaxing after a long day. Quite a few were talking about Draco’s parting words after dinner.
Exactly an hour after the first Slytherin had stepped into the room, shadows began to shift in one corner of the room as an invisible box began to dissolve. The snakes that had been trapped inside were released, spelled by Remus to target the owner of a particular sock he’d been given. Percy’s informants included the Hogwarts elves and it had been easy enough to get one to give him a sock of Pucey’s with the promise it would be returned.
A scream rent the air as a girl caught the zip of a snake across a green and black rug. Her alarm alerted the others and more cries went up. Pucey, sitting in a armchair in the corner with a few like-minded friends and bitching about Draco-sodding-Malfoy, looked up to see snakes zig-zagging fast across the floor, moving directly toward him.
The boy was able to jerk back in his chair, mouth falling open with a cry, before they were on him. It was that fast. They wound up his legs or launched with surprising force and speed from the ground, latching onto his torso, arms, thighs, and stomach before anyone could lift a wand.
A blood curdling scream of pain and fear tore through Pucey’s throat. The bites burned like lava, searing down to his bones, boiling his blood. He screamed again, collapsing and thrashing with desperate terror, completely hysterical. Other screams joined his. Students ran terrified, saving themselves.
Only a few spells were cast at Pucey, his friends trying to help him, but their spells did nothing. Pucey flung himself at the floor, at the coffee table, the armchair, anything, trying to get them off, but the pain was so great he could hardly think, could only draw breath enough to scream and wail helplessly.
…
McGonagall walked Draco and Ron silently to the Headmaster’s Tower, looking grimmer than ever. Neither Ron nor Draco said a word. Snape was waiting with Dumbledore. Without explanation and without asking a single question, they took the boys’ wands and tested them.
Ron stood red-faced, furious he was being suspected of something he had no clue about. Draco merely looked bored. When nothing came up besides the spells they were learning in class, they’d been dismissed just as Pucey had been.
Snape gave Draco an intense look as he left the office. It had not been a happy expression, almost thunderous. It made Ron sweat and feel scared, and it hadn’t even been directed at him, but Draco had turned away easily. He didn’t give a fuck about Snape.
Ron gave Draco side-eyed, curious looks all they way back to the Tower, saying only, “Sooo… Pucey’s been attacked,” when they’d reached the portrait.
Draco said nothing, staring at him through almost animalistic grey eyes.
Ron backed off immediately. “Not that the punk didn’t deserve it or that you had anything to do with it,” he muttered. “Just saying.” He sighed in relief when Draco’s gaze left him.
Hermione was waiting for them in the common room. So was most of the House. They had known something serious was up when McGonagall had appeared like the personification of Death and asked for Ron and Draco to follow her immediately.
Ron rubbed the back of his head and gave a nervous grin. “Dumbledore wanted to check our wands. Seems Pucey’s been attacked and since I accused him of hurting Harry…”
Of course everyone clamored to know what had happened, but Ron didn’t know any more than that. The professors hadn’t said, but he could guess it had been bad from their serious expressions.
Hermione slunk close to the blond’s side while everyone was peppering Ron with questions. It wasn’t hard to do. Draco had melded into the background as Ron took the spot light. Harry stood at his side, expression calm, although that didn’t reassure Hermione any. Draco could do no wrong in Harry’s eyes, and it pissed her off that even Neville seemed to think Draco was something special.
“You had something to do with it, didn’t you?” she whispered in a tense hiss.
Draco’s eyes flashed as he went from calm to angry in a second. “What’s you’re problem with me, Hermione?”
She flushed, her chin jutting up as her voice rose to match his. “You came back all dirty before dinner.”
Draco began to yell, gaining the attention of others around them. “So that makes me guilty? My wand came up clean! That should be good enough for you.” He took as step closer and glared dangerously as she held her ground. “I don’t have to explain myself to you or bullies like Raul! You shame the Longbottom name by accusing me without any proof!”
It was a deliberately low blow. She flinched.
Draco held tightly to Harry’s hand and stormed away. He wasn’t really mad, of course. He’d just needed to put her in her place. He admired her mind, but she was pushing against the wrong person. Besides, rumors of their fight would spread and hopefully that would make other people hesitate to accuse him.
- love adoration pride -
Draco smiled as he shut the door safely behind him. A quick spell made sure no one else could get in for as long as the spell lasted. He pulled his boy against his chest as he leaned back against the door and kissed Harry’s lips with nearly brutal force, making them red and swollen.
Harry’s whole body throbbed with heat. His butt ached with every hard beat of his heart and it made his heart want to fly out of his chest. He stared up at Draco with complete adoration. “You’re amazing, Draco.”
Draco preened under the praise, heart thundering as he finally let his triumph free. He walked Harry backward, hands tight in the boy’s black, messy hair. His mouth bit and sucked at Harry’s neck and collar, knowing what it would do to Harry.
- desire need pleasure - boomed through their bond, making Draco bare his teeth in a fierce grin.
Harry let out the most delicious gasps and moans. He moved backward, obedient and responsive, collapsing back on the bed with Draco on top. Draco immediately began driving his hips into Harry’s with slow, bruising force.
Harry cried out softly as his ass was driven hard into the bed. Pain and pleasure exploded from his center as Draco pressed hard against his crotch and rubbed his hips up and down in a slow, maddening rhythm. Whimpering, Harry opened his thighs, welcoming more of the pleasure-pain. I belong to Draco, resonated through his whole being as he stared unblinking up at the dominating blond.
Draco growled and bent down, pressing Harry even harder against the bed. Something that had been coiled in his chest finally began to unwind. Harry had been threatened and Draco had finally been able to act to make him safe. Pucey would think hard before ever attacking Harry again. Harry was safe and cared for and his.
Triumph and a hungry desire rose up from deep in his gut, nearly choking Draco with the urge to howl in glee. His hands slipped between them and open their belts. His hips never stopped rocking. He unsnapped their buttons and unzipped them so that their stiff cocks could rub together. The bite of their metal zippers stung their skin with each firm rock forward, making Draco's grin wider and Harry’s gasps sweeter.
Harry’s whole body began to rock with Draco’s thrusts. His hair splayed messily about his head as he clung to Draco’s shoulders. Draco stared hungrily down into his eyes as Harry panted and moaned, limp under Draco's possessive, glowing gaze.
“You’re mine,” Draco growled, hoarse and breathless and almost there already. Heat burned through him, his blood thundering through his veins. Harry was his! His hands reached forward and wrapped around Harry’s throat, the collar pressing into his palms.
Harry’s eyes went impossibly wide, - DESIRE need trustlove - and his mouth fell open, wet and red. A gasped wheeze escaped his constricted throat as Harry’s arms fell limp, hands curled peacefully by his head, submitting to Draco’s force.
Draco put his mouth over Harry’s, their lips barely touching. He sucked in Harry’s last exhale, taking it into his lungs, and then clenched his hands harder until Harry couldn’t breathe at all.
Harry’s face instantly went red - euphoria painpleasure LUST. Draco continued to stare unblinking into his eyes with that look he got of absolute, silver-eyed focus and Harry couldn’t breathe, was under Draco’s complete control, was going to cum, his vision tunneling, oh god yours Draco forever please yes yours. His dick and butt throbbed as Draco continued to rock hard and slow against him, a painful-pleasurable push-pull of strong, thin hips.
The room was practically swirling with their magic, the air damp and heavy like a swamp. Draco’s hips rubbed hard against Harry’s, their skin warm and wet with sweat. He thrilled in the way that Harry made no move to escape or breathe, just lay under his power, trusting and safe and god Draco was gonna cum so hard all over his boy…
Harry held his body open and didn’t even twitch to fight Draco’s hold until his body arched involuntarily, green eyes rolling back. Draco watched, hands around a slender throat, enraptured as Harry’s beautiful eyes went unfocused, the boy beginning to lose consciousness.
It was all too good. Harry felt like he was coming apart at the seems. Completely under Draco’s control, his lungs screaming for air, his eyes blind, intensifying the sensation of Draco rubbing against his dick oh god it felt so good; the sharp sting of their zippers even better, Harry felt the sparks build under his skin, at the tip of his dick, in his nipples, deep in his gut… His mind fuzzing, going dark, body spasming as a wave of pure ecstasy crashed over him, Draco god YES!, sending him soaring into lightening-streaked darkness…
Harry's eyes fluttered mostly closed, only a sliver of white remaining, as he blacked out and went limp. Draco gasped, excited and so fucking close to cumming, as he felt Harry’s hot cum squirt against his skin. Their magic throbbed and trembled, needing Draco’s orgasm to be complete.
Grunting, growling, he released Harry’s throat, snaked his arms under Harry’s back, and hooked his hands on his shoulders, driving Harry’s body downward, holding him in place as Draco thrust with sudden, brutal speed against Harry’s unconscious body. Harry’s head rolled limply, Draco’s dick sliding in the warm, slick Harry had produced, and Draco choked out a low cry as a wave of pure pleasure crashed down on top him, soaking him from head to toe.
His back arched away from Harry’s body, only their hips touching… * MINE! * he howled triumphantly before cumming all over Harry’s stomach. Magic punched outward in an intangible wave, absorbing into the walls.
Dazed, he slid down Harry’s body to his knees, his head pillowed on Harry’s splayed thigh, eyes half-lidded and hardly coherent as he panted and shuddered, mini-explosions continuing to fire through his core. His pants hung open, his skin wet and cooling with their mixed cum, otherwise he was fully dressed.
Draco gently stroked Harry’s calf, listening as the boy wheezed in soft, shallow breaths. He shuddered knowing without seeing it that Harry’s throat would bruise if he didn’t heal it. When Harry came to, it would ache and burn like hell. It made Draco’s hips jerk reflexively, one last thrust against Harry’s leg at the knowledge that Harry would want the bruises to stay… would want it to swell so that it would hurt every time he swallowed… as a reminder of Draco’s power and lust… would be sad when he forced him to heal it.
“Mine,” he whispered once more, content and purring, nuzzling against the inside of the boy’s thigh.
Eventually, he rose to his knees, folding himself over Harry’s damp crotch and pat gently at Harry’s cheeks. The boy began to take deeper breaths and his eyes fluttered open. Harry's thighs flexed and Draco climbed to his feet, leaning over and bracing his hands on either side of Harry’s head. Harry smiled sweetly up at him, foggy with pleasure and warmth, as Draco bent to pepper his face with butterfly kisses, nuzzling and purring and praising him.
- contentment adoration - “Yours,” Harry whispered unprompted, voice wrecked and hoarse.
Draco hummed happily and licked and nibbled at Harry’s jaw.
…
Adrian opened his eyes to see the white of the Infirmary. A touch on his hand made him flinch and turn his head to see his mother. She sat beside him, dark eyes solemn. He looked up past her to see his father standing at her side, staring down at him, dressed in his dark robes with his hair slicked back. He was not happy.
“Father…” he croaked.
“I’d ask you what you’ve done, but it’s obvious,” Mr. Pucey said softly and Adrian shivered in dread. “You’ve challenged someone before you were ready and now you reap the consequences.”
“Lord Malfoy has turned his attention to our affairs,” Ms. Pucey explained. “We’ve already lost several good clients.”
Adrian bowed his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Father, Mother. I acted rashly. I… I just… Malfoy acts so fucking smug, like he doesn’t know what a disgrace he is to the Cause… and, and Potter was such an easy target, weak and…”
“And guarded by a dragon,” Mr. Pucey hissed, interrupting his son’s babble. He leaned down, putting his face close. “You will stay away from Malfoy and Potter. You will not act on your own again. Or I will bring you home. Permanently.”
Adrian shuddered. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. He’d be Crucio-ed for sure if he did. “Y-yes, F-Father…” he managed to stutter and closed his eyes to escape the pain of the bites that still burned as well as his parents’ painful attention.
…
Pucey was missing from class the next day and Slytherin House as a whole was subdued and withdrawn. They stayed well clear of Draco and Harry. Even the First-years who took classes with them kept their head down and mouths shut, even Nott. Of course, the other Houses were confused and suspicious, but Draco merely shrugged when questions came his way.
“Must’ve got what was coming to him. Everyone knows Harry’s special. Hogwarts must think so, too.”
Of course, when no one else was looking, Draco would give the Slytherins the most chilling smile.
…
It took three days for Pucey to return to class. With his return, information began to leak out of Slytherin House into the rest of the school.
Pusey had been attacked by snakes! Nine of them. (Harry needed seven spells and two potions to be healed.) Professor Snape had been alerted to a student of his House in mortal danger and had arrived quickly enough to rush the teen to the Infirmary. Without immediate care, he would have died from snake venom. (If Harry hadn’t been minutes from the Infirmary, he’d have died.)
Rumors spread fast and furious. The upperclassmen from the other three Houses were able to look up several instances where spells embedded in Hogwarts’ wards and foundation spells had attacked intruders without direct manipulation. However, in none of those instances had a student been targeted. It was concluded that it was possible Hogwarts had been behind the brutal attack, but it was also possible it had been someone else.
All eyes turned to Draco as the most viable suspect. Draco had clearly warned, or perhaps even threatened, Pucey that night and he was obviously crazy protective about Harry. Plus, Draco came from a rumored Dark family (not so rumored for those who knew without a doubt the Malfoys were Dark). On the other hand, Draco was a First-year. Dark family or not, could he really do that? He wasn’t showing extraordinary skill in classes, not like that Pleasant girl; he seemed to be an average student overall.
Draco didn’t act guilty of anything, either. He wasn’t strutting or acting suspicious. He’d been interested when the topic had been brought up initially and then dismissive after a few days. He was clearly busy with other things. Like studying and practicing as a reserve Seeker for Gryffindor.
He’d also been cleared by the Headmaster, although that didn’t necessarily mean anything. It was clear by the Headmaster’s speech after Harry’s fall that Dumbledore cared about Harry a great deal and had been very upset by the ‘accident’. Dumbledore had also favored Gryffindor from the moment he’d become Headmaster. Maybe he’d let revenge against a Slytherin slide.
… And so the rumors continued.
Chapter end.
Sorry I've been off line. I haven't lost interest. I'm just dealing with serious health problems and natural disasters. I promise I will continue to work on this story in my spare time. Hopefully I'll be able to update more regularly again soon. I'd love your feedback and any well wishes you can spare. I miss you all.
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Freedom Bound in Chains