This little hum-dinger is a prequel to a rather smutty story written by my lovely sister-in-law, treee. The story is entitled 'Closer'. I strongly suggest reading that before making your way back over here. Just a bwarning/b: 'Closer' contains dark, disturbing material, including S&M, rape, torture and a bit of dark magic ;) Unless you are comfortable with any and all of those themes, I don't recommend it. This story, however, will be slightly less grim. There will be adult themes, homosexuality, and a bit of torture. You have been graciously warned! :)

I do not own any of these characters. They exist and live completely inside the mind of J.K Rowling. Thank God for her. Any character, setting, theme or additional story plot included in this story that has not been mentioned in any Harry Potter book has been conjured by my sick, twisted self.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

Harry could not pinpoint the exact day or time he became transfixed on Draco Malfoy. It was as if a transmission had been fading in and out in his brain, and now it finally landed on the right signal. Between bites of food and quick retorts to Ron and Hermione, Harry calculated Draco's every move. On several occasions he found himself longing to sit at the Slytherin table, wanting to be included in Malfoy's inner circle of cronies.

He could see the boy from across the Great Hall. Eyes glinting in their usual malicious way, talking feverishly to a fellow Slytherin, about what - he could only dream of.

"Harry?"

He whipped his head around, finding Hermione staring him, lips slightly parted. It was the concerned look she wore when she knew something just wasn't right, but could not exactly put her finger on what it was.

"I asked you if you had finished Professor Slughorn's essay on Strangulation Hexes?" Hermione's eyes widened as if to warn Harry she was aware of his odd behavior.

Harry shifted in his seat and put both hands to his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. "Er...I have about a half a scroll left." He wanted to turn around, but kept the palms of his hands over his face. "Why?"

"Just curious." Hermione said. "...and I thought that later tonight I could help you with it, I know you've been having some trouble grasping the principles - "

Harry could hear Draco's voice drifting towards the Gryffindor table, and he was acutely aware of the blonde making his way out of the Great Hall. A sharp laugh cut through the air, and Harry turned. He could see Draco walking next to Pansy Parkinson, a brilliant smile on his otherwise dispirited face.

Harry felt the urge to rush across the Hall. This strange pull to the rival Slytherin had become so consuming over the past few weeks, Harry barely wondered why it was there anymore.

"Yeah, Hermione. That's fine." He reluctantly tore his eyes away at the now empty walkway that opened into the Great Hall. Harry chanced a look at Ron and was momentarily jerked out of his infatuated state. The red-head was seemingly enjoying his own fantasy, staring down the table at Lavender Brown. She was currently leaning over her plate of eggs and sausage, bottom lip in between her teeth, listening to Parvati Patil as she avidly explained her 'brush with death' in their previous Potions class. Harry would have believed Lavender to be concentrating on the story, if not for the flirtatious glances she shot at Ron every 5 seconds.

Harry nudged Ron in the side. "Let's go out to the pitch, I need some fresh air."

After receiving a particularly large shove from Ron, which nearly knocked Dean Thomas off his seat, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way out of the castle and onto an inviting area of trees close to the Quidditch Pitch. The sun was shining brightly upon the three of them, and Harry quickly began sweating under his heavy robes.

"I just don't understand why she has to keep going on about it. I mean sure, her entire head was engulfed in flames, but Madam Pomfrey put it out in minutes!" Hermione flopped pointlessly* on the ground underneath a large oak tree, looking determinately flustered.

Ron followed suit, swinging his black robes across his shoulder. "At least Lavender tried to do something about it. She probably poured 5 buckets of water on Parvati! Don't think it helped at all, though. Just made it spread down to her backside." Ron said, stifling a giggle. Hermione uttered a small 'tut' and folded her arms. "If you could even call that a backside..."

Harry chuckled distractedly, only half-hearing the trifle bickering between his two best friends.

His attention was brought to two figures, some distance away - hidden between an alcove against the side of the castle. He immediately recognized the figure on the left to be Draco. How many times had he studied that profile, the slightly hunched posture, the graceful slope of limbs and features. He seemed to be listening intently to the smaller figure on the right. Harry could not discern whether it was male or female. Gone was the bright smile Harry had seen earlier in the Great Hall. It was now replaced with a look of deep concern, even fear.

It was a mark of how easily he noticed Draco's facial expressions that Harry realized he had started walking towards the Slytherin. He stopped abruptly and turned back to Ron and Hermione, who had similarly noticed Harry's sudden departure.

"Everything all right, mate?" Ron asked with a tense expression.

Harry ran a hair through his tangled hair. "I think so..." He looked down at the ground. "Maybe fresh air wasn't what I needed." At that he turned around and began walking back to the castle.

Hermione and Ron both stared at one another. Hermione leaned back, looking curiously at the alcove where Draco was now standing alone.

She bit her lip and sighed. "Ron...something is seriously wrong with Harry."

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Harry was vaguely aware that he was bound, naked and shivering. He could he feel several cuts and bruises beginning to take shape on various parts of his body. He wanted to open his eyes, but something was willing them shut. He did not know how he had arrived to wherever he was, or how long he had been there. Harry opened his mouth, and almost cried out in pain. His cracked lips were raw and bloodied, and a shooting pain shot down his neck as he tried to swallow. There was a growing sense of unease in his chest as Harry realized the situation. He tried to release his arms, which were tied behind his back to a chair he was chained to. Very slowly, he began opening his eyes. There was only darkness. Ignoring the rushing pain in his head and neck, Harry attempted to look down, only to see more blackness. Where the hell was he? What was going on? There was a faint dripping noise which reverberated off the walls, as if Harry was in a dank, cavernous place.

"I would untie you, but you are yet too strong."

A deep voice echoed into the air, confirming Harry's assumptions that he was in a huge, empty room.

He did not register the direction in which the voice was coming from. It seemed to float in all directions.

Harry yanked at his bindings once more, ignoring the fact that he knew he was stuck. There was no magicking his way out of this. "Why..." Harry swallowed, cringing at the dry pain in his throat. "Why are you doing this? Who are you?" His voice bounced off the walls.

He heard footsteps very close to him. Wasn't the voice farther away?

"I'm whoever you would like me to be, Potter." The voice dripped with malice. More footsteps told Harry that the bodiless figure was right next to him. He could feel a dull sense of whoever it was, standing over him.

"Fuck you." Harry spit blood at the man in front of him. He tried kicking, but his feet were bound to the legs of the stiff chair he was on.

He heard the rustling of clothes, the air in front of Harry seemed to change.

"Oh, fuck me?" The voice was coming from right in front of Harry's face. He felt a cool, damp breath on his against his cheek. "I believe you are the one who is fucked, Harry."

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