Disclaimer: I own nothing! J.K.Rowling created the characters that I'm abusing rather evilly. Sorry, Ms Rowling ;)
Note: I hate for this to be my first ever HP slash, but I wrote it on a psycho whim just now. It's not very good, it's rather cruel, not necessarily sexually exciting or anything, but it just... happened. It's Harry/Draco, and Crabbe/Draco, but not exactly... You'll see. Hope you don't hate it, lol. I honestly never write shorties like this usually, and I promise better, and much hotter, but hey, it's something :)
Another Note: Essy found and made me use this title. All her fault! *giggle* It means concealed in some way, derived by thesaurus from the word fuzzy. I think it had something to do with fuzzy vison... Or, um, something... Essylogic is exactly that. Logical to only her ;)
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"Hermione!" shouted Harry, distress in his tone, as he came down into the Gryffindor common room that morning, his robes rather untidy, his pitch black hair a worse state than ever - and that was something.
He looked a little disorientated, and Hermione could instantly tell why, as she glanced up from her copy of the Daily Prophet, from the plush fireside armchair.
"Somebody's stolen my glasses again." he wailed sadly, emphasising the last word, and plonked himself down on one of the cusions, stumbling over the edge of one of the chairs on the way, quite obviously having a very hard time seeing much at all.
Hermione raised an eyebrow silently. Again? she mused worriedly. What on earth could someone want with Harry's glasses? They'd gone missing on several previous occasions, and had mysteriously reappeared soon afterwards, apparently unharmed. Hermione had even checked them over for countless types of hexes, but had found nothing.
"Bet it's Malfoy." growled Ron, sitting himself down opposite Harry, running one hand through his firey hair with annoyance, angry at the very thought of Draco Malfoy playing another of his stupid pranks on Harry. "I just know, it has to be. He's always up to something..."
* * *
The Slytherin dorm was completely silent, except for the sudden rustling sound of robes falling to the floor, and of someone being thrown carelessly onto soft, emerald-green sheets, amongst heavy black drapes, embroidered with a large silver serpent, visible in the dim morning light.
"Ouch..." came a deep voice "Watch my elbow, I..."
"Shut up, Crabbe." growled a cold, well spoken and sharp voice, as he pinned the other down onto the bed by his wrists, hitching his robes up past his waist, and slipping a familiar pair of rounded glasses, held together by selotape, onto Crabbe's face.
"Why do I always have to wear these?" he groaned, leaning back on the bed and letting the other lift his legs up over his shoulders.
"I told you not to talk, you idiot." came the cold voice again, as he leaned closer towards Crabbe "You'll do just what I want, like you always do... Otherwise, you know how much trouble I can get you into with my father, don't you?" he said nastily "Now open your legs wider."
Crabbe nodded, tears burning his eyes at the pain he'd have to go through again. Not physical pain, he loved every second of what the other boy gave him, but the pain of knowing that he wasn't really wanted, and that he had to play out this insane fantasy every time.
"I can't even see you through these." he sobbed, shamefully aroused, as always, as the boy heartlessly slammed inside him.
"Good." he spat, and emphasised the word by slamming inside him again, his cruel grip tightening on Crabbe's wrists "I don't want you to see me. What you get out of this means nothing."
And so, the boy's silvery blond hair fell forwards over his face, as he methodically, rhythmically ellicited groans from the boy beneath him, his icy gray eyes misted over, deep in his own world, as he bit his lower lip and moved faster.
Draco didn't see the tears that fell unchecked behind the stolen glasses, as he worked his way blindly up to his release, Harry Potter's name breathlessly escaping his lips...
Note: I hate for this to be my first ever HP slash, but I wrote it on a psycho whim just now. It's not very good, it's rather cruel, not necessarily sexually exciting or anything, but it just... happened. It's Harry/Draco, and Crabbe/Draco, but not exactly... You'll see. Hope you don't hate it, lol. I honestly never write shorties like this usually, and I promise better, and much hotter, but hey, it's something :)
Another Note: Essy found and made me use this title. All her fault! *giggle* It means concealed in some way, derived by thesaurus from the word fuzzy. I think it had something to do with fuzzy vison... Or, um, something... Essylogic is exactly that. Logical to only her ;)
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"Hermione!" shouted Harry, distress in his tone, as he came down into the Gryffindor common room that morning, his robes rather untidy, his pitch black hair a worse state than ever - and that was something.
He looked a little disorientated, and Hermione could instantly tell why, as she glanced up from her copy of the Daily Prophet, from the plush fireside armchair.
"Somebody's stolen my glasses again." he wailed sadly, emphasising the last word, and plonked himself down on one of the cusions, stumbling over the edge of one of the chairs on the way, quite obviously having a very hard time seeing much at all.
Hermione raised an eyebrow silently. Again? she mused worriedly. What on earth could someone want with Harry's glasses? They'd gone missing on several previous occasions, and had mysteriously reappeared soon afterwards, apparently unharmed. Hermione had even checked them over for countless types of hexes, but had found nothing.
"Bet it's Malfoy." growled Ron, sitting himself down opposite Harry, running one hand through his firey hair with annoyance, angry at the very thought of Draco Malfoy playing another of his stupid pranks on Harry. "I just know, it has to be. He's always up to something..."
* * *
The Slytherin dorm was completely silent, except for the sudden rustling sound of robes falling to the floor, and of someone being thrown carelessly onto soft, emerald-green sheets, amongst heavy black drapes, embroidered with a large silver serpent, visible in the dim morning light.
"Ouch..." came a deep voice "Watch my elbow, I..."
"Shut up, Crabbe." growled a cold, well spoken and sharp voice, as he pinned the other down onto the bed by his wrists, hitching his robes up past his waist, and slipping a familiar pair of rounded glasses, held together by selotape, onto Crabbe's face.
"Why do I always have to wear these?" he groaned, leaning back on the bed and letting the other lift his legs up over his shoulders.
"I told you not to talk, you idiot." came the cold voice again, as he leaned closer towards Crabbe "You'll do just what I want, like you always do... Otherwise, you know how much trouble I can get you into with my father, don't you?" he said nastily "Now open your legs wider."
Crabbe nodded, tears burning his eyes at the pain he'd have to go through again. Not physical pain, he loved every second of what the other boy gave him, but the pain of knowing that he wasn't really wanted, and that he had to play out this insane fantasy every time.
"I can't even see you through these." he sobbed, shamefully aroused, as always, as the boy heartlessly slammed inside him.
"Good." he spat, and emphasised the word by slamming inside him again, his cruel grip tightening on Crabbe's wrists "I don't want you to see me. What you get out of this means nothing."
And so, the boy's silvery blond hair fell forwards over his face, as he methodically, rhythmically ellicited groans from the boy beneath him, his icy gray eyes misted over, deep in his own world, as he bit his lower lip and moved faster.
Draco didn't see the tears that fell unchecked behind the stolen glasses, as he worked his way blindly up to his release, Harry Potter's name breathlessly escaping his lips...