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Good for Winners, Bad for Losers	By : Nosila Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1647 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Good for Winners, Bad for Losers
- 1
Disclaimer: Adored, not owned.
Warning: Non-con.
A/N: Thanks to Aliir for the beta. British spellings.

* * * * *

I scowled at them across the classroom. They, of course, were oblivious. Whispering among themselves, laughing and giggling, no doubt planning their next prank. How I hated them.

"Don't worry, Severus." Next to me, Evan leaned over. "Remember, Slytherin Vs Gryffindor, next week. We'll beat them. That'll show them."

It wouldn't. They'd go on, being as cocky and annoying as before. Probably humiliate us in some way, just to get back. And they could easily beat us. Sure, we had the better Seeker, but it was not unknown for James Potter, the all-wonderful Chaser, to score more than 150 points.

Unfortunately, when he did, I was always held responsible as Keeper. Never mind the fact he got in even more goals when facing Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. According to Lucius, it was always my fault.

James Potter.

Sirius Black.

Remus Lupin.

Peter Pettigrew.

I wanted revenge.

* * * * *

"Lucius." Evan sounded nervous as he approached the seventh year. Not that I blamed him.

"What now?"

"It's those Gryffindors." I winced at detecting the slight whinge in his voice. Lucius did not like the weak. "They're becoming unbearable. Always getting at us. We need to get back at them." Next to Lucius, Narcissa raised her eyebrows coolly. She was never as openly menacing as her boyfriend, but those who crossed her suffered runs of bad luck that made us all suspicious.

"So you've come to whine to me?" Lucius merely sounded bored. I decided it was time to step in.

"We merely wished to know if you had any suggestions for dealing with them. If you don’t want to take part, that's fine."

Narcissa straightened. "But, Lucius, what about that time they drugged all our drinks at breakfast." We all winced. Somehow, they had got the house-elves to spike all our drinks at breakfast with a particularly strong, long-lasting alcohol potion. All the Slytherins had spent the rest of the day drunk, and left us a laughing-stock. Narcissa continued, curling fingers into her boyfriend's hair. "I was so embarrassed, and we haven't done anything in return."

Lucius nodded, a calculating gleam shining in his eyes. "Don't worry. I," he paused smirking round at us all, "have an idea."

* * * * *

An idea which, of yet, none of us (probably excepting Narcissa) knew about. All we knew was that it involved invading Gryffindor Quidditch practice.

I watched the first red blur notice us, wave to her companions and come shooting to the ground. One of the Chasers, but I didn't know her name.

"What are you doing here?" Lucius ignored her, and the rest of us followed his lead.

Potter was next down, followed closely by Black. "What're you lot doing here?"

This time, Lucius answered. "We came to practise Quidditch, of course."

"But I booked the pitch!"

"So. You don't think you're going to win?"

This time Black answered. "Of course we're going to win!"

"Then why do you need to practise?" Lucius voice hadn't changed. It stayed as disdainfully calm as it had when he first started speaking. I had to admire his control.

"Because we want to crush you into the ground, that's why." Black looked like he was going to say more, but Potter cut him off.

"We know we're going to win, Malfoy, but we would like to win with as many points as possible."

"So confident." Lucius let amusement creep into his voice. "Would you care to make a wager on that?"

"No problem." Black sounded confident; a feeling that Potter obviously didn't share.

"What's the deal?" He sounded suspicious. Smart of him. I would've been.

"If we win, four of you become our—slaves, for lack of a better word."

"And if we win?"

"The other way round."

"For how long?"

"Three days and three nights."

“Which four?"

"Myself, Snape, Rosier and Lestrange. For you—you can decide, though they do not all have to be members of the Quidditch team. Just Gryffindors."

"Agreed," said Black, before Potter could respond. Behind him, the girl who had landed first jabbed his shoulder. Clearly, she did not share his cocksure attitude. But then, from the other Gryffindors glares, none of them were too happy about this. "Myself, James, Remus and Peter will do it."

Potter glanced towards the stands, where I could see Pettigrew and Lupin watching curiously. I wondered what they would think of being volunteered.

"Good." Lucius was now smiling; the cat that'd got the cream. "See you at the match."

* * * * *

"Are you mad?" I rounded on Sirius. The rest of the team backed away. "Go get changed. Practise over," I snapped at them, before turning back to Sirius. "What were you thinking?"

"Come on, James, think about it! Them doing whatever we want, for three days. They'll go down as the best three days in Hogwart's history!"

"What if we lose?" He waved me off.

"We won't lose. We are so much better than them."

"Oh, and you think they're going to play fairly?"

"We'll be careful. Not give them a chance to sabotage us."

"This is a bad idea."

"James, trust me."

I sighed. There was never any point in arguing with Sirius, and we probably would win. We had the better team, after all. "Fine. But you get to tell Remus and Peter."

* * * * *

The day of the match dawned bright and clear. The strengthening and reaction-quickening potions I had brewed sat ready on my desk. The rest of the team and I would drink them before breakfast.

Hopefully, the others had been successful in fixing the Bludgers to only go after Gryffindor players. If not, we'd still been having extra practises every day.

Lucius was determined we were going to win, something which made me very glad. I had no desire to spend the next three days at the beck and call of Black and Potter. Evan, our spy, said that they were determined to win fairly.

Idiots.

* * * * *

"And Potter gets the Quaffle! And the Gryffindor Chasers form a Hawkshead Attacking Formation as they fly down the pitch! The Slytherins are really no match, as—"

Would he go left or right? I could only cover two goalposts at a time. Which way would he go?

He curved down sharply, tilting to the left. I went with him, covering his every move—he flew closer, still going down—before tossing the Quaffle up, round me to the girl on my right.

"And Stavrinides scores for Gryffindor! She's only third year, just joined the team this year, but proving very good—"

I blocked the commentator's voice out, watching Potter and the girl, Stavrinides, high-five. Damn them.

"And Slytherin has the Quaffle! Wilkes - but no, it's been intercepted by Potter! Potter's got the Quaffle, he passes to Otoway, she passes back—"

A Bludger came out of nowhere, forcing me to roll over in mid-air. It looped, flying back towards Black. Looking surprised, he hit it back towards me. I dodged—

"And Potter scores! 60-10 to Gryffindor!" Black smirked at me, before zooming off to defend his Seeker. Now I looked, the Bludgers were attacking more Gryffindor players. Lucius' idea was working, but not enough. We were losing - badly. I felt worry start to grow inside of me.

"And Otoway passes to Potter, who heads towards the goals—" I was ready, this time. I felt my muscles tense, ready to move—"Snape saves!" Cheers rose from the Slytherin stands, boos from the Gryffindors. "He passes to Wilkes, who takes it down the pitch—"

Seeing the action head down to the other end of the pitch, I relaxed slightly. "Is that the Snitch?" I watched Lucius dive, heart in my mouth. "It is! It's the Snitch!" Lucius curved round the edge of the pitch, the Gryffindor Seeker right behind him. "Malfoy catches the Snitch! Slytherin win, 160 to 60!" The look on Lucius' face could only be described as smug, and my expression probably mirrored his.

Three days and three nights.

We'd won.

* * * * *

Rosier was waiting for me in the changing rooms. "Meet us tomorrow, in that abandoned room in the north tower. You know which one I mean." I did, and I couldn't help the smirk that grew over my face.

* * * * *

I was the last Slytherin to arrive. Lucius wasted no time in making his speech.

"I've picked you three," he began, nodding round at Rosier, Lestrange and I, "for this because, in the last while, you have proved your loyalty to Slytherin again and again. I hope you keep that up for the next two days." He smirked at us, before glancing round the room. It only contained three pieces of furniture - two chairs, and an enormous four-poster bed, which was capable of comfortably sleeping around five people.

Of course, I imagined that very few people slept while in here.

From the moment Rosier had told me where we would meet, I had known Lucius' plan. Our house had always been quite…casual…regarding sex. I could remember several encounters in here, with several different Slytherins from either gender. From the looks on the others faces, I could guess they were also absorbed in happy memories.

Lucius smirked at us all. "We want revenge, and we want them to remember it. It doesn't matter if no one else knows about this, as long as they know the consequences of annoying Slytherin. In a few minutes, Potter and Lupin are arriving. They are then going to do whatever we wish."

* * * * *

"Have you ever been here before?" Remus sounded nervous. I couldn't blame him. The Slytherins were bound to want to get back at us for our various jokes. "Though, they can't make us do much, can they. I'm surprised they want to meet us somewhere so quiet. All our plans involved public humiliation, didn't they?"

"They probably just want us to do all their homework for us or something."

"I hate the thought of doing anything for them, but I suppose homework wouldn't be too bad—unless they're going to do something like…" He trailed off. "Is this it?"

"Yeah. Probably." Slowly, I knocked.

"Come in." Malfoy's voice. Remus and I glanced at each other, but what could we do? Refuse to follow through, and it would be all over school what cowards we were. Hesitantly, I pushed the door open.

"Occunox!"

"Hey!" Being blinded was not part of the deal! Someone grabbed my arm, dragging me in, and behind me I heard the sound of someone locking the door.

"What are you—hey!" Cords wrapped themselves around my wrists. "What are you—"

"Shut up." Malfoy sounded bored. "You agreed to this, so why don't you stop complaining. For the next three days, we own you." I could hear people walking about, and someone dragged me further into the centre of the room. "Now, when we take the cords of your arms, you're going to strip."

"What?! No way!" Remus echoed my thoughts.

"Look, let me make it clear for you." Malfoy sounded impatient. "Either you strip when we untie you, or we cut your clothes of you now. I suggest you choose the first option, unless you want to go back to your dorms naked."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't we?"

He sounded so confident, so sure. "Fine," I snapped. "Untie me."

"Just so you know, the door is guarded, and you have little chance getting away blind." I scowled in his general direction, but when the ropes were untied, started to strip.

* * * * *

We all watched avidly as they started to strip, fumbling for fastenings in their blindness, before slowly peeling clothes off to drop them on the floor. Potter was the first one to reach his boxers, and hesitated on reaching them. Lucius, though, ordered him to take them off too. I barely noticed Lupin undressing, all my attention focused on James.

He was lightly muscled from Quidditch, but still slim and lean. His face was a hot red, and he kept fidgeting with his arms, folding and unfolding them, crossing them over his genitals: he was obviously uncomfortable with being naked in a roomful of enemies. What a surprise.

"What d'you want now?" His voice was full of false bravado, but you could still hear the embarrassment in his tone. Vaguely, I wondered if he'd ever done anything like this before, growing hard at the thought.

Shit, but he was sexy.

"Can't you guess?" Lucius' voice, silk with a hint of steel, reed led lightly teasing, even as he raised his wand. I was not surprised when cords leapt out, rebinding their wrists.

"Hey!" Potter was obviously under some delusion that protesting would help, and struggled against Lestrange, trying to escape. Not that it did any good - the older boy was heavier, had bigger muscles, and wasn't blinded and tied. Potter was roughly deposited on the floor at my feet, where I stood in front of one of the chairs. Lupin was in front of Lucius, who was already sitting on the bed.

Lucius gestured for me to sit down. I did so, dragging Potter further between my legs, and I knew the moment he finally realised what was happening.

"No way! You have got to be joking if you think—I'll bite you!" Lestrange laughed.

"Then, little boy, we'll post pictures of the two of you, like this, all round the school. Wouldn't that be a shock for your pretty little girlfriend?"

I stroked myself as I watched, trousers already unzipped. Gripping his jaw, Lestrange smirked at me. "You think he's ever done this before?"

"Those Gryffindors—they are awful close, aren't they?" Evan laughed as Lupin squirmed in his grip.

“Bastard. Let us go! This is—"

"Silencio!" Lucius' charm took me by surprise, but at least it shut them up. Anticipation thrummed through my body as Lestrange forced down Potter's head, squeezing his jaw open.

* * * * *

I felt something brush against my lips, hard and wet. I knew what it was, of course, but barely had time to feel disgust before whoever was holding me shoved down hard.

Gagging, I choked nd hnd his cock, pushing my tongue up defensively, trying to breathe, a rich, musky smell with a sharper tang of sweat reaching my nose.

The grip on my head loosened, and I could pull back now, till only the tip of whoever's cock was in my mouth, letting me taste the slightly salty, slightly bitter taste of pre-come on my tongue. I was pushed down again, too far, far enough that hair tickled my chin and I gagged, suddenly wondering: if I threw up, would this all end? No time to find out though, as again I was allowed to pull back, gasping for breath, and the sound of similar noises behind me let me know I wasn't the only one doing this.

Pushed down again, but this time not as far, and I could breath through my nose, even as I swallowed defensively, fluttering my tongue against the dick in my mouth. The grip on my neck tightened, and it seemed like I was hyper-aware, skin too sensitive, as whoever it was that was holding me slid down to slide his hand across my chest.

And above me, a breathy chuckle, before "Lestrange, you perve." Voice sounded hoarse, strained, and I couldn't help the thrill when I realised, however little it was, that I had power here. Power to create pleasure, undo whoever was using me like this.

A thrill that didn't last long, as a groping hand curved round my dick, squeezing just hard enough to worry me, but not so hard that it didn't arouse me as well, and damn, I did not need to be getting hard. Not here, not now.

But I was, hard and wanting, tied and blind, with a dick in my mouth and a hand curled round my balls, humiliated and degraded, sickened by my own lust for more.

I barely had any warning before he came, just a sudden tensing of the muscled thighs on either side of me, before hot come spurted into my mouth. I tried to pull back, pull away, but couldn't: the hand on my neck tightening again, and I knew it was going to leave bruises, even as I spat come out my mouth. Whatever else happened, I wasn't swallowing. Wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

My jaw felt sore now, my lips swollen and stretched. Looking up, wondering who was their, wondering if I'd ever be able to look another Slytherin in the eyes again. Also, though, I knew I would: knew I could forget, get them back, move on. Knew that if I focused on that, I wouldn't focus on the sick feeling of lust that still slithered through me. Slithered; like a snake, like a Slytherin, and it wasn't funny.

The person in front of me, now getting up, and whoever it was behind me let go. I made a move to stand up, but was pushed back down, and around me, my tormentors settled back into their usual positions.

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't make a sound. Couldn't see, either, and the lack of sound from the bed gave me no indication of how Remus was. Worse, though, I felt fingers lacing through my hair, pulling me forward.

Even worse than that, was the steadily growing erection between my thighs.

* * * * *

Lips, swollen and red, stretched tight around turgid flesh, cheekbones prominent over sucked-in cheeks...small gasps for breath whenever I allowed them. James Potter was sexier than I could ever remember seeing him before.

I could still remember the sensation of his hot mouth around me, the slight scrape of teeth against my cock, his inexperienced tongue pushing up, pulling back.

I'd never been sucked off like that before - never by anyone who was that innocent, that unsure. In Slytherin, sex was part of life; something you traded on, gave to receive favours, experimented with. Other houses, we all saw as naïve - love does not exist.

And maybe Potter was starting to learn that, here, jaw sore from one blow-job even as he sucked off somebody else. Learning that, as he learnt it was possible to like debasement, to lust for someone you did not even like.

Because he did. Maybe he was blind, but I was not, and neither was Lestrange. I had watched his obscene fumbles, felt Potter tense, his silent moan. And now, it was time for revenge.

At first, I had been doubtful. Doubted that this would work. At first, I would've preferred something much more public. But now, I saw the beauty of Lucius' plan. What could be more humiliating than being made into a slut for your enemies' pleasure, and then enjoying it?

He shuddered, trying to flinch away when I slid my free hand down his chest. I barely needed to hold his head - Lestrange, hands tightly curled into messy black hair, was doing a good enough job.

Potter's muscles were firm, from, I guessed, living a life that revolved around Quidditch and running away from Filch. All his supposed Gryffindor bravery didn't stop him quivering as I trailed fingers over his stomach, the rush of power making me bold.

I squeezed him gently, feeling the hard flesh. I felt a brief surge of pity that he wasn't small, something I could have tormented him about, before vindictive pleasure at his trembling swept through me.

And wouldn't he hate himself now, for so obviously showing his weakness. I knew I would. Unfortunately, my satisfaction was far too brief - Lestrange, the git, obviously had no self-control. He came, letting go of Potter, who jerked back, come hitting his cheek instead, and wasn't that a pretty picture.

I wanked him off, hard, and this time I was relieved that he came quickly. Turning round, I met Lucius' smirk.

"Enjoy yourselves?"

Lupin, the sidekick, was already up and untied, fumbling with his robes, still blind. A mutter from Lestrange, and Potter was untied as well, being pulled over to find his robes. Watching them, instead of any of the feeling I would usually associate with a moment like this, I could only feel animalistic.

Lucius, though, uplifted my spirits.

"Don't look so glum. Remember, there's always tomorrow."
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Good for Winners, Bad for Losers