Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58477 -:- 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
- 79
- 80
- 81
A/N: WARNING: Dark chapter ahead and a BDSM scene.
Huge shoutout to Babyvfan who’s encouragement/reassurance made this chapter possible.
Breakdown
The night was dark and cold. Silent… not a rustle of a leaf or crunch of soil. Yet he was gliding forward. The edges of the trees high above his head and the uneven forest ground glowed briefly silver as the half-moon peeked out from the clouds. He felt calm, relaxed… peaceful until a soft flicker of something white and pure cut through the darkness.
A sudden feeling of absolute certainty stole over him. Something bad was going to happen. His breath hitched, soft little gasps that he couldn’t hear but could feel. Anxious tears burned his eyes. He didn’t want to go forward. He strained with everything he had, but it didn’t matter.
Please… no…
There and gone again, quick little teasing darts. Until he was close enough to recognize silk soft hair, slender legs, a long sloping back… Chilled to the bone and terrified, he tried to scream out a warning.
Run! Get away!
The chase was about to reach its terrible end. His heart pounded in his chest. He was gasping, screaming, but there was still no sound! Why couldn’t he stop?! He was close enough now to see the unicorn fully… to see beautiful silver eyes wide in fear and anger… and suddenly sound ripped across the silence.
A scream but not his own. The stallion bellowed its challenge, head whipped back, hooves lashing at his face. The pearl horn stabbed forward… Harry tried to fling himself onto the deadly tip just to stop what was coming.
Please! Please don’t make me!
His hands brutally caught the creature by the throat, twisting and flinging it to the ground as if it weighed nothing. Its cry of pain was terrible, making him cringe and shudder, even as he dove forward.
His teeth closed on that soft skin… Could feel the warm, soft fur against his lips and tongue, felt the resistance of skin and muscle giving way against his teeth. His stomach heaved in horror and disgust as he chewed through the creature’s flesh.
Oh god! Nooooo!
Ripping muscle, thick blood filled his mouth with a delicious, syrupy warmth that nonetheless made him scream. He swallowed mouthful after mouthful; it slid down his throat and hit his stomach, filling it to overflowing…
He wanted to crawl out of skin to get away! It was inside his body… The creature’s shrieks of agony pierced his ears, made him shrivel up even as he pressed closer, ripping off raw meat and eating…
Harry sat up with a choked scream - HORROR grief terror GUILT. Arms held him close, Draco’s voice in his ear soothing him. Harry twisted away and flung himself at the edge of the bed. His whole body arched forward as he violently threw up.
He was sobbing, snot and tears joining the mess on the floor. He was on his knees, hanging onto the edge of the mattress with a death grip. Draco held his hair off his forehead, the other hand gripping his shoulder to make sure he didn’t topple into the puddle of sick. Bile and vomit hung from his lips.
“I ate him!” It would have been a shriek of horror, but his voice was hoarse and small. “Drank his b-blood and ate him!”
Draco pulled Harry up and back so that he sat on the bed between his legs. He kept one hand on his boy’s clammy forehead, holding the thick black hair back and away from his face. The other arm he wrapped tight around Harry’s chest to keep him in place against his chest and make him feel secure. Ignoring the fluids that dripped from Harry’s mouth and chin onto his arm, he used his other hand pull Harry’s head back to see his scar. Tension fell from Draco’s shoulders as soon as he saw that the lightning scar was no longer blood red and threatening to burst. It was fading slowly to an innocent white once more.
Harry broke down into wordless sobs. Draco held him tightly, humming. It took several minutes before Harry was calm enough for Draco to turn Harry in his arms, so the boy was sideways in his lap, cradled to his chest as if he were a baby.
“Killed him…” Harry whispered brokenly, exhaustion and despair thick in his voice. “In the woods… killed him and drank his b-blood…”
Draco stared over Harry’s head, expression grim, but his voice was soft and gentle when he spoke. “It wasn’t you, Harry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Harry whimpered - denial GUILT shame. He knew better than to pull away, but he wanted to. Draco’s forgiveness felt like acid against his raw nerves. He didn’t deserve it. He was a filthy, disgusting demon…
Draco took a deep breath and looked across the room at a wide-eyed Neville. The boy’s hair was mussed from sleep, but he was wide-awake. He was usually a hard sleeper, but Harry’s distressed whimpers and terrified cries could have pulled the dead from sleep.
“Neville,” Draco said calmly, voice low. His hair had fallen from behind his ears, the white-blond strands framing his face and falling just past his jaw. “I want you to bunk with Ron for the rest of the night. He won’t mind if you tell him Harry had a night terror and we needed some space.”
Neville balked. He leaned back, his hands twisting the comforter. “B-but…”
“Neville,” Draco said again, a little more firmly. He stared dead into the other boy’s eyes. “Harry really needs me right now and you need your rest. Go sleep with Ron, okay?”
Neville flushed red. He looked really nervous about it, but he obediently crawled out of bed. He kept his head ducked as he pulled on a dressing robe and pushed his feet into his slippers.
“Thank you,” Draco whispered, grey eyes bright with sincerity.
Neville’s shoulders straightened and he gave Draco a nod before slipping out of the room.
Harry lay limp in Draco’s arms, eyes staring blindly ahead. He probably didn’t even notice Draco’s conversation with Neville; the bond was a churning storm of dark emotions. Harry’s frame trembled, tears dripping down his messy face.
Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He found the core of his being, his love for Harry and the absolute certainty that Harry belonged to him, and knew what he had to do. He gently pushed Harry up into a sitting position. Dull green eyes blinked as awareness slowly bled into them. Draco gave Harry a soft smile, but he knew his eyes had gone silver by the way Harry shivered.
“On your knees.”
The command was given in a low, hard voice that sent a bolt of electricity right down Harry’s spine. He ducked his head and dropped his eyes submissively as he shifted to kneel on the bed, butt resting on his heels… - HATE guilt despair -
Draco slipped off the edge of the bed and slowly pulled all the curtains wide open. He wanted as much light as possible. He wanted to see every inch of that skin. “Shirt off.”
Harry pulled his sleep shirt over his head and was left naked. With the curtains open, the chill from the stone walls and floor made goosebumps rise along his skin. He shivered, his arms hanging limp at his sides, his chin lowered. - GUILT grief loathing - clawed at his sanity.
Draco left him there as he went to their armoire and dug out a box at the bottom. In it, he kept the rope that he’d had Dobby get for him nearly a year ago. Being bound and tied, made helpless and at Draco’s complete control, sometimes that was the only thing that would let Harry find his center again and Draco had been sick of using scarves and belts.
- Trust need - flashed like lightning through the dark muck of Harry’s emotions as soon as he caught sight of the rope. It was made out of a dark green nylon. Harry had chosen the color for Draco’s magic, the color of the deep wood and, for Harry, safety. It matched the eyes of the dragon inked into his skin and was several shades darker than his own lighter green eyes. The rope wasn’t soft, but it wouldn’t tear Harry’s skin to shreds either.
“Up.” Draco smacked Harry’s thigh and the boy rose up on his knees and off his butt. Draco climbed onto the bed so that he was standing behind Harry and ordered in a cold voice. “Arms up.”
Harry obeyed, lifting his arms above his head. Draco caught those thin wrists in his hands and began to wrap the rope around them. He moved with deliberate slowness, making sure Harry felt every coil around his skin, the tightness, the inescapability of it, and then he firmly bent Harry’s elbows and pulled the wrists down so that they rested behind his neck.
Draco tugged the end of the rope, making sure the stretch could be felt but wasn’t painful. “Ankles together,” he growled in Harry’s ear.
Weeping, Harry carefully shifted his ankles together, rocking side to side to move his knees inward to make it happen. The ghostly echo of the unicorn’s blood still burned in his belly, the feeling of chewing the raw meat wouldn’t leave his mouth! He was disgusting! Filthy! Draco must see it, too. The thought sent a mother spike of - anguish - and - despair - through him, but it also meant relief. Draco saw. He would make it right. Even if it meant destroying Harry completely, he would make it right.
Draco ignored Harry’s whimpering sobs as he made several tight loops around the boy’s ankles, pulling the rope tight. Darkness thrashed and flailed through the bond, but Draco didn’t let it effect him. He remained cold and detached inside of himself as he checked the pull of the rope. His teeth flashed in a fierce grin. He would win Harry back from the darkness.
With slow, deliberate steps, he walked on the bed around the bound, kneeling boy to stand in front of Harry. Harry struggled to stay upright and not pitch over onto his side as the bed dipped next to him with every step Draco took. Draco reached forward and gently ran his fingertips of his left hand down the boy’s chest and over his firm stomach, lightly muscled from hours of Quidditch practice. His nails stopped just above the boy’s dick. Harry shivered, goosebumps appearing on his bare, cold skin. What Draco had planned would hurt like a bitch. Maybe the cold would buffer that a bit.
The dark green cord connected Harry’s wrists tightly to his ankles. It made the boy’s back have a slight curve backward, his chest slightly thrust out. His slender arms were pulled up, the elbows bent, exposing his torso and stomach in offering. Harry’s thighs had only a small gap between them with his legs position this way, framing his small, soft cock. Face glistening with tears, head bowed slightly forward, black hair hanging down over his eyes and the bridge of his nose, Harry was a gorgeous picture of vulnerability, like an offering to the gods.
Harry couldn’t see Draco’s face, his bound wrists pushing his head slightly forward. Could only see Draco’s perfect feet, slender yet strong legs, and the white sleep-shirt that fell to mid-thigh. Suddenly Draco crouched on the balls of his feet on the bed in front of him, arms propped up on his thighs, his shirt falling between his legs, keeping him covered. His eyes were blazing silver as his lips crooked in a cocky smile that screamed dominance.
Draco ran his hand through Harry’s hair, firmly fisting the black locks at the back of the boy’s head to make Harry lift his face up against the press of his wrists. Harry’s cheeks were wet with tears and smears of snot. His eyes were red-rimmed and slightly puffy, unhidden by the glasses that rested on the nightstand. His chin was splattered with puke. His thin body exposed and shivering, wearing only the green rope binding his limbs and the black collar. The silver-white dragon tattooed on his side crouched above Harry’s right hipbone. It was perfectly still in a predator’s crouch; its dark green eyes unblinking and watchful.
Expression intent, watching Harry with a nearly obsessive glint, Draco ran his fingertips over Harry’s slightly parted lips and down his throat. He tucked his fingers into the top of the collar. Harry’s weeping grew raspy as Draco’s fingers pressed against his throat.
“This won’t be quick, Harry,” he said softly. “It’s going to hurt. A lot. But that’s what you need, isn’t it?”
- relief GUILT need self-hate - “… yes, Draco…” Harry wheezed, fat tears rolling down raw cheeks. “…please… I’m evil…”
Draco leaned forward to press his forehead to his boy’s. He stared into Harry’s eyes, blond hair falling to curtain their faces, a white cocoon. “Do you trust me, Harry?” he asked almost gently.
Crying, Harry answered immediately with a choked, “Yes.”
“Then trust me.” Draco straightened. He reached over and picked up Harry’s discarded shirt next to them and began to wipe the boy’s face and chest. “I’m going to make you clean again.”
Harry shuddered, his eyes falling closed, torn between trusting absolutely in Draco and the complete inability to believe he could ever be clean.
Draco pulled the dirtied shirt away, its job done, and dropped it over the small puddle of vomit next to the bed. “Dobby!”
A long second passed before there was a soft pop. “Yes, Master Draco?”
“Clean this mess. Lock the door and put up a sound ward, too, please, and go,” Draco ordered without looking. His attention was fully on his boy. Caressing Harry’s damp cheeks, he said, “Tell me, Harry. Let me hear it. What did you do wrong?”
With a whimper, Harry’s pretty lips began to move. “I killed it!” he sobbed. “Drank its blood and a-ate it… Feel it in me! …” The rope creaked as he unconsciously pulled against it. “And I left you… Left you alone and you… There was so much blood…” A keen of pure despair rose from Harry’s tight throat. “My fault! All my fault!… And I’m getting bad grades… It’s not good enough! I’m not good enough! … I’m weak! Can’t ward all of your things right away! You’ll be hurt again ‘cause of me…” His eyes went unfocused as he fell into the darkness of his soul and the truth that lived there. “… bad, disgusting, EVIL, demon FREAK…”
The words were said with utter hatred and a black outline darkened around Harry’s form. Draco had heard enough. He reached forward, still crouched on the balls of his feet, and wrapped his hands around Harry’s throat.
Harry’s lips soundlessly shaped the slurs that he called himself deep inside his heart, even as his voice was stolen by suffocation. His shoulders tensed as he instinctively pulled on his arms and was unable to move them. The feeling of being tied made the blackness seep out of his vision.
He blinked back into awareness, felt Draco’s strong, slender fingers almost brutally tight around his throat. He looked up into silver eyes that cut into him with crystal clarity. Slowly, he relaxed into Draco’s hold, even as his lungs painfully spasmed and his face went tight and hot.
Draco released him. Harry gasped and heaved, trembling and dizzy. Dark spots danced in his vision, but he held his position on his knees, spine straight with a slight bend backward, wrists bound tightly to his ankles behind him. He didn’t fall. Chin dropped low, wild hair curtaining his face, he fought to catch his breath and waited. Draco was here; Draco had him.
Draco stood and jumped off the bed. It was cold. Even he was shivering now. He went to the armoire and pulled out his thickest sweater, a pair of jeans and some warm socks. By the time he was done dressing, Harry was breathing mostly evenly again, but he was still trapped in an endless loop of - guilt shame self-hate fear.
Draco climbed back onto the bed and crawled to Harry on all fours. His movements were smooth and predatory. Harry watched him with wide eyes that were full of a desperate need to be saved. Draco lifted up onto his knees only inches away from his boy and ran his fingers down Harry’s chest. The boy’s skin was cold to the touch, but Harry’s teeth hadn’t begun to chatter yet. Perfect.
“Where did you eat the unicorn?” he asked curiously. Harry’s nipples were pebbled nubs from the cold and Draco pinched them, smirking as Harry’s stomach muscles jumped.
Harry’s face twisted in mental anguish as he remembered. “The neck…” he sobbed. “I tore out its neck…”
Draco hummed in response. He caught Harry’s chin and forced it up so that Harry was looking into his eyes. “Ready?” he asked solemnly.
Harry’s breath escaped him on a shaky sob. “Yes, Draco.”
Draco slid closer, fisted Harry’s hair, and titled his boy’s head to the side. His sweater brushed Harry’s skin as he put his mouth against his throat. The boy was gasping… - NEED guilt submission self-hate - … heart thundering in his chest. Draco opened his mouth, lips ghosting over Harry’s chilled skin. He pressed his teeth to the boy’s flesh and, without warning, bit down brutally.
Harry choked back a scream as pain tore through his senses. He jerked away instinctively, but Draco held him in place.
The bite had left deep indentations, two perfect crescents that were already bruising. Two drops of blood welled up where Draco’s canines had cut through. Draco didn’t stop there. He dropped his mouth to the slope of Harry’s neck and shoulder. He bit down, holding Harry’s flesh in his teeth for a long minute before releasing him. Harry was truly shaking now, gasping in short breaths as the hot pain streaked across his body from his neck and shoulder and slammed into his mind.
Smiling a predator’s smile, eyes silver with intent, Draco slid his lips up the soft underside of Harry’s arm. It was on perfect display with his arms up and his wrists tied behind his head. Draco gripped that soft flesh with his back teeth. A sharp, pained cry escaped Harry as Draco worried at it in a chewing motion. Draco moved only a few inches over to bite down again. Harry began to sob loudly.
“Sorry… Sorry, Draco! … Sorry!” Harry pleaded, head rocking back and forth, sweat dampening his brow, his black bangs sticking to his skin.
Draco turned his mouth to the curve of Harry’s jaw and cheek and bit him.
Harry whimpered, tears and snot drenching his face once more. Draco took the boy’s lower lip in his molars and clamped down, worrying it, chewing. The thin skin tore. The small cut bled ruby red down Harry’s pale, cold skin. It dripped off his chin and slid down his chest. Draco followed that trail, leaving bruising bites and the occasional cut from his canines.
He used this hand to grab a handful of Harry’s chest to have more to bite on. The pebbled nipple was caught safe in his mouth, and the searing hot heat of the side of Draco’s tongue rubbed the hard nub even as his teeth pinched and bruised the muscle around it. Harry screamed! Draco held the bite, pain eating up all the hate and guilt and shame through the bond.
He gripped Harry’s other breast, raising the muscle and skin, and clamped his teeth down. Again his tongue rubbing almost brutally against the cold nipple. Harry shrieked as the pain of the new bite crashed into the pain of the old.
Draco continued downward, biting each rib, marking every patch of skin. He gripped and pinched and chewed at Harry’s soft stomach. Harry could no longer talk through his tears. He lost track of where he was. He was being consumed, just as the unicorn had been consumed… Draco was eating him whole! The idea of that made Harry’s eyes fly open wide - JOY! - and he moaned, the sound coming from deep inside his soul.
Yes! Eat me! Yours, Draco, oh god, yours! He had no sense of where Draco was biting anymore. Waves of agony struck through him in waves. The unicorn disappeared… Draco bleeding alone in the bathroom… the hate and guilt of all his failures… it all faded under waves of white and red and pain, consumed by Draco.
Draco lifted his mouth from Harry’s skin, hands gripping the boy’s slender waist for balance, and looked up at Harry’s face. He was so fucking beautiful. Green eyes bright and half-lidded, body shuddering as he wept softly, perfectly limp and no longer resisting, letting Draco take everything away. Harry’s chest, the back of his arms, and stomach were littered with dozens of swelling bruises. Harry looked spotted like a Dalmatian. Harry was his and so fucking beautiful!
Heart filled with overwhelming love, Draco stroked and squeezed Harry’s thighs, letting the boy come down a bit. Harry’s soft cries slowed and those dazed green eyes slowly came back into focus. Harry whimpered and shivered, covered in a sheen of sweat even as his teeth began to chatter, tinged blue.
“With me, Harry?” Draco asked in a soft rasp, eyes burning with possessive hunger.
“… yes, Draco…” came Harry’s dazed, hoarse whisper; he was floating on a wave of bliss and pain. He was Draco’s; Draco was eating him!
Draco made sure Harry was watching him with those gorgeous green eyes. He leaned over and kissed the boy’s tender inner thigh before biting cruelly down. Harry arched against the rope, a high-pitched whine escaping him. Draco turned his head to give a matching bite to the opposite thigh. Harry shrieked!
“I’ve got you… So beautiful, Harry… so goddamn beautiful…”
Draco rose up on his knees. Their positions put Draco a little taller than his boy as he looked down with heated eyes into Harry’s slack, pain-filled face. Panting, he reached behind Harry to grip his bound wrists for balance. Harry moaned as that put more strain on his shoulders. The sound made Draco ache deep inside his gut.
He stared down at Harry’s cold, bruised body, drinking in the bruises and bites, every tremble and shudder of Harry’s slender, lightly muscled body. Harry was covered in Draco’s marks, blissed out and flying, tears falling down his face… It made Draco burn with lust. Blindly, his left hand fumbled open his pants. He’d never been so hard before. He could feel his dick throbbing. Almost desperately he gripped his cock. The shocking pleasure made Draco groan, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second.
Harry’s vision slowly swam clear. Everything hurt, throbbing and hot, cold and aching, but it was quiet again insidde. He was cocooned and insulated, completely and utterly Draco’s. Nothing else could touch him. Whimpering, he blinked and saw that Draco’s face was close to his own. The blond was on his knees only a few inches away from him. He was flushed, his mouth parted as he panted. He wore a dark blue sweater that hugged his thin frame, the V of the neckline revealing sharp collarbones and emphasizing the milky white color of his perfect skin. The long sleeves fell just past the wrist that was working up and down, steadily going faster.
Harry stared, eyes wide. Draco’s hand was fisted tightly around his cock. He had never seen Draco’s cock so red, glistening, and swollen, rising tall from the open jeans. Glancing up into the blond’s face, Harry saw that Draco was staring down at his naked body, eyes bright with an obvious hunger. Harry groaned, shocked and pleased that Draco wanted him.
Draco’s hold on his bound wrists grew tighter and Harry tensed every muscle to keep them both upright. Draco was panting hard now, almost growling. His breath and skin took on a faintly musky scent that went straight to Harry’s cock. His fist began to pump wildly now.
“Draco…” Harry whimpered, pupils blown. His body throbbed in agony, the painful cold only slightly numbing his battered skin and Draco was so bright and beautiful and good… “Hurts… so good… Draco…” he sobbed.
Panting, magic throbbing and twisting in the air, his senses vibrating, Draco pumped his cock faster, his eyes riveted to the dozens of bite marks covering Harry’s soft skin. The - love adoration submission - that filled the bond pushed him even closer to the edge.
“Fuck, yes, good, so fucking good…” - * MINE! * he bellowed deep in Harry’s mind as he came with a long, drawn out groan.
Harry gasped and arched his body as much as he could, offering more of himself to Draco as hot cum splattered his stomach. The inked dragon on his side flapped its wings madly as Draco groaned and leaned against him. They were both panting, nearly breathless. It was agony where Draco pressed up against him, but Harry thrilled in it. Draco’s… He was Draco’s! … Draco wanted him, loved him, saved him; he had made Harry clean!
Shivering, teeth chattering, Harry rubbed his cheek against the side of Draco’s head and whispered in a dazed, blissed out voice, “Love you… thank you, Draco… Yours…”
Draco gave a soft, breathy laugh. “We’re not done yet, Harry.”
Magic snapped and crackled around them, not yet complete. Harry shivered and whimpered as Draco pulled away from him. Draco dragged his hand through the mess on Harry’s stomach, making the boy flinch and gasp as he rubbed across the broken and bruised skin.
Fingers slick, Draco teasingly squeezed the head of Harry’s cock with his fingertips. It was pink and stiff, rising up against Harry’s lower belly above soft, hairless balls. Draco’s index finger pressed and rubbed at the little hole. Harry whimpered, head thrown back as much as his arms would allow. Draco gave a lazy smile and tapped at the tip, slowly at first and then faster and faster, hitting harder and harder.
Panting, sobbing, Harry trembled and shook, arms bound above and behind him, completely at Draco’s mercy. He never pulled away, even as the shocks of pleasure began to burn painfully. The heat of their magic coiled and twisted. Harry was so close! His vision swam in and out of focus, his mouth hang slack, drool slicking the corners of his battered lips.
Draco leaned forward to lick some of Harry’s spit from his chin. He chuckled, pressing his forehead to Harry’s, staring into those blazing green eyes as he began to tug up and down, thumb rubbing hard at the reddened, swollen head on every up-swing. His fist made a squelching sound, dirty and wet. It made Draco tingle and twitch; god he loved it when Harry got wet! He put their mouths together so that with every gasp Harry only got Draco’s air, owned from inside and out.
“Want it, Harry… Give it to me… Want to see you cum with my marks and cum all over you,” he growled, silver eyes glowing.
“Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco…” Harry chanted near breathlessly, lost in a sea of pained pleasure.
Their tangled magic throbbed and pulsed. Harry was cold and hot and hurt everywhere, his attention riveted on the pulsing heat and shocks of pleasure where Draco pumped his hand up and down, rubbing brutally at his over sensitized tip. Muscles spasming and toes curling, his hips pushed forward for more. Loud wails shook though him as Draco’s tempo grew faster.
Draco’s free hand clenched in Harry’s hair, keeping the boy’s gaping mouth right against his, their breath cycling as Draco hungrily ate every moan and whimper. Soft little sobbing cries spilled from Harry’s lips, “auh, ahn, auh,” as he gave small thrusts into Draco’s tight, slick fist. So close… He was so close to the edge… He sobbed, mouth slack, eyes glassy.
“Mine,” Draco growled possessively right into the boy’s mouth.
Harry gave a loud, wrecked cry, the sound making Draco gasp and shiver. Cum shot out of the boy, splattering Harry’s naked stomach and Draco’s hand. Their magic crashed and rolled outwards, deep like thunder. Blacking out, Harry began to collapse sideways.
Draco guided his fall so that Harry lay on his side on the bed, wrists and ankles still connected and bound behind him. Draco lay facing his boy as echoes of fading pleasure burst under his skin. Unable to keep his hands off, he spread their mixed cum over as many bites as he could. It made him tingle and throb to think of it there, invisibly marking Harry further.
After a few minutes, Harry softly groaned, eyes fluttering open. His pupils were wide, still high from the orgasm.
Draco smiled into that dazed expression. “I love you, Harry.”
Harry smiled sweetly back. “Love you… so much…” he whispered, voice wrecked.
Draco leaned forward to softly kiss Harry’s lips. Long and languid, their lips moved slowly, Draco swallowing down his boy’s soft sighs.
Eventually Harry began shivering too hard to ignore. Draco sat up and moved to kneel behind his boy. He untied the rope from around Harry’s ankles. Bruises were left behind from when Harry had unconsciously pulled and strained against the rope’s hold.
Draco reverently traced over them and then glanced up at the hands still bound behind Harry’s head. “I’m leaving your wrists bound.”
Harry nodded and straightened his legs, rolling onto his back. His bound wrists came to rest on his thoroughly marked chest. It hurt at first, but then the pain subsided into a dull throbbing and he was comfortable.
“You’re not to heal any of these without my permission,” Draco commanded and lazily slid two fingers into Harry’s battered mouth. “Get them wet for me.”
Harry was filled to bursting with safety and warmth. He closed his eyes on a sigh and lapped lovingly at Draco’s fingers. As soon as the blond pulled them free of his mouth, he whispered, “Yes, Draco…” - love submission.
Draco smiled and leaned over to kiss Harry’s fat lip one more time. “Such a good boy for me,” he praised.
- joy surprise gratitude - Tears spilled from Harry’s closed eyes. “Draco…”
Draco smiled and gently traced Harry’s lips before sliding over to his jaw and cheek. He hated erasing the marks, but he knew he couldn’t leave any that would be visible over Harry’s clothes. Reverently he stroked the bites and strangulation bruises on Harry’s neck, watching as they slowly faded away under his touch.
Harry was sweet and pliant, slow tears soaking his cheeks and the pillow under his head, but they weren’t tears of pain or self disgust any more. They were tears of relief and peace, a washing clean of all the darkness that had come before.
Humming, Draco cupped Harry’s face and kissed him softly, lapping at the inside of the boy's mouth and drinking the tears from his healed lips. Pulling away after a long minute, Draco sat up to close the bed curtains and pull their thick, warm blankets over them. He held Harry, whispering words of love and praise until Harry fell into a deep, restful sleep, held safe in Draco’s keeping.
Staring at the red canopy above his head, Draco thought hard. They were a week into December. Two weeks had gone by since their conversation with Hagrid and Harry was running himself into the ground with Quidditch practice most mornings, classes all day, essays and studying, and then trying to ward all of Draco’s clothes for three hours every night. Spread so thin, it wasn’t any wonder Harry was burning out and performing poorly.
His grades had dropped from E’s with the occasional O to mostly A’s. Some nights Harry could only get through warding one sleeve instead of half a robe as he’d done the first time. Harry explained he had to be utterly focused on the feeling of wanting to protect Draco, but exhaustion and worry made his mind cloudy.
Worse yet was that the warding only lasted a few days before Harry had to re-ward it. As it stood, Harry was only able to keep one robe fully warded at any given time. Draco thought this was fine. He was able to switch between them, giving Harry the robe with the failing ward to fix while he wore the one that was freshly warded, but of course Harry didn’t agree. He still felt as if he’d failed Draco by not providing more shielding.
Technically, Draco’s feet and ankles were still exposed and vulnerable, so were his head and hands, and anything else that wasn’t covered by his robe. If the bullies figured that out, then Draco would be an easy target once more. However, Draco’s bullies weren’t exactly geniuses and the warding had been extremely successful.
Draco no longer tripped or danced or grew sick in the halls. Several people around him had been hit instead as the jinxes and curses bounced off, so now the attacks had stopped completely. Of course, Draco knew that meant they were biding their time and working up to an even bigger attack, but he was careful and watchful.
More importantly, they weren’t making very much progress regarding the stone. While Harry warded at night, Draco and Hermione researched ways of destroying something as powerful as the Sorcerer’s Stone. So far they had come up with nothing. Hermione had also asked Professor Flitwick for tutoring, but she hadn’t yet found an opening to ask about the stone. In fact, the only one who had made any progress in that area was Neville.
Neville had asked Professor Sprout for a tour of the upper year greenhouses and had noticed an empty spot in one of them. Turned out a big Devil’s Snare plant was missing. Sprout tried to convince Neville it had gotten damaged and she’d sent it off to be repaired, but they knew better.
So it wasn’t any wonder that Harry had this breakdown. Draco stroked the boy’s thick, messy hair and hummed some more. Something had to give, but Draco wasn’t sure what. If he forced Harry to give up warding, Harry would take that as proof of his failure, that Draco didn’t believe in him. Quidditch practice was time consuming and physically exhausting, but it was the only time in the day Harry felt relaxed and somewhat happy. Harry was really proud of his last win. And of course their classes and the amount of assignments wouldn’t disappear.
Draco was well and truly stuck. He had no idea how to help his boy or make things more bearable. They had to destroy the stone! Once they did, Snape’s plans would be crushed and the Dark Lord’s presence would leave this place. So would these dreams of Harry’s. They’d be free to relax and focus purely on school again.
Sighing, Draco rested his cheek on Harry’s head briefly before carefully pulling away. Maybe it was time to ask for outside help. Determined, he crept quietly to their desk and opened a notebook. He had two letters to write.
Chapter end.
A/N: I hope the two week time jump from last chapter to this and Draco’s inner monologue and summary at the end wasn’t too abrupt. I tried to make it as smooth as possible. :D
The scene with Draco and Harry at the beginning gave me huge fits. I had to ask for help to make sure the feelings between Draco and Harry and the psychological needs of both were expressed clearly - THANK YOU, BABYVFAN.
I’d love any feedback you guys can give.
Sorry I’ve been relying on you all so much lately!! I hope everyone is enjoying the story and will continue to be patient as I work through my writing issues as of late.
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Freedom Bound in Chains