There is a Flash back, but I do not enjoy reading everything in Italics, so I will not put it in Italics. I will just warn you of the end and beginning of the flashback.
Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! They're what keep me going!
Any suggestions for this fic are wanted!
Sorry if there is too much POV switching in the story. It's confusing me.
Warning: Swearing…Um, I guess we'll call it attempted rape…Nothing to bad.
Chapter 3Harry was once again found in his cage, alone, making good use of the provided shower. He wanted to rid himself of the filth. He felt dirty, unclean. It didn't matter the Dark Lord had rubbed his skin raw in the bathtub the previous night. Besides, the events had happened after the bathroom scenario.
F l a s h b a c k
Voldemort sat on bed watching Harry with an amused expression. He had left the boy shirtless, but had granted him the fortune of wearing a pair of black satin pants. His crimson eyes were filled with lust, terrifying Harry. But he showed no fear.
Harry who had refused to be anywhere near Voldemort, stood by an emerald armchair, tending to his wings. He wondered if he could play quidditch instead with his wings. That would make things easier, wouldn't it? And there would be no doubt he would beat Slytherin…not that there was any uncertainty in the first place. Maybe there was a chance Draco and him could play quidditch here.
Is he just going to sit there staring at me all day? I'd actually much prefer it to anything else he's got in mind, Harry thought taking a glance at Voldemort, who had probably not blinked once.
He noticed the Dark Lord's image had changed. He was still just as intimidating, but he had turned…for lack of a better word for his sworn enemy- handsome. He was paler than a snowflake, and had pale pink lips. Everything about him was pale, his nose (which he had also recently acquired) stood out long, and aristocrat like. Except his hair, which now fell down in wavy black locks. And his eyes, a soft brown color, just like Hermione's…
Again, he wondered how his friends were, and if they thought of him. If they worried at all. HE didn't want them to worry. HE didn't want to be the burden of their thoughts.
A chilling voice interrupted him from his thoughts-
"Fly for me, my pet."
Harry decided not to respond to that name. If he did, Voldemort would be one step closer in succeeding whatever his cruel mind was concocting.
Harry continued to nurture his feathers, wincing, as he had to pull a rather mangled one out.
"Harry, I said fly for me."
"I'm sorry," Harry faked sincerity, "I didn't realize you were trying to address me, seeing as I am not your pet. Address me correctly, and maybe I'll respond to your orders. Which is unlikely, because I don't take orders from you."
Harry hoped for a rise out of Voldemort, so it only bewildered him more when Voldemort gave a slight chuckle.
"Harry, my pet, the more you disobey me, the more privileges you lose. You do not want to lose any privileges, do you Harry?" The Dark Lord used the same tone Harry had used.
"What privileges? You have me locked up in a fricken pet cage! Is that a privilege? Excuse me; I guess you could have chained me to a wall or something! Merlin, am I thankful." Harry shouted and glared icily at Voldemort.
"I am speaking of the little privileges, Harry. Such as, say, receiving a roommate during the day. Even wearing clothing in my presence is a privilege for you. But I do not mind if you wish for me to remove them." Voldemort smirked as Harry shuddered and took a few steps back. The boy looked handsome through any state of emotion, but much more in fear.
Voldemort waited for some other reaction of Harry's, but continued upon seeing none, "Do you wish for me to take away these privileges, Harry?"
The words spoken to Harry had him feeling like he was in his younger years at school, getting disciplined for undoubtedly accidental magic. Of course, none of the teachers or students knew it was accidental magic; they just blamed any abnormality on him.
"Harry, I'm speaking to you. And if I'm correct, I believe I am addressing you correctly. I expect an answer." The words chilled Harry, and he knew he had to say something.
"No." Harry said begrudgingly, responding to Voldemort's earlier question. He really did like the time he spent with Draco. Getting to know him had been fun. And his only company being Voldemort would surely drive him crazy.
"No, What?"
Harry scowled. Voldemort was going to toy with him until the Dark Lord heard what he wanted. Harry was giving into everything. But what else could he do? If he was going to stay here, forever how long, he was going to have to keep his "Privileges."
"Harry"-
"No!" Harry yelled angrily, and said the rest through clenched teeth, "I. Do. Not. Want. You. To. Take. My. Privileges. Away."
Harry felt his stomach sink at the light of triumph in Voldemort's glowing red eyes.
"Ah, yes, good, my little angel. Now that we have learned our place," (he seemed to be speaking to himself more than Harry) "Fly for me, Harry."
"Why? You've already seen me fly." Harry snapped.
"Privileges, Harry," Voldemort reminded him.
Harry sighed. He couldn't believe he was about to do this. Was that bastard going to get some sick pleasure from this? Knowing Voldemort, probably.
Harry began to flap his wings, and was off the ground in less than a few seconds. He placed his hands on his hips and looked at Voldemort.
"Happy now?"
"Not quite." Voldemort said, and he drew out his wand. In one quick movement, he threw an unexpected curse at Harry. Harry flew to the left, the curse grazing his hand.
"Fuck. What was that?" Harry asked, grasping his throbbing hand. He had been hit by a stinging curse. Then Harry smirked, "A little immature for a Dark Lord to be using stinging curses, eh?"
"Perhaps your right. Cruico." Harry flew to the right from the curse, but Voldemort was already ahead of him. He ran into another curse, which the Dark Lord had thrown.
He immediately shot down to the ground from the effects of the cruciatious curse, writhing, and forbidding himself from screaming. Not much effort was needed; Voldemort's touch from their connection was much more pain to bear than this.
Voldemort released the curse and walked over to Harry, who lay on the ground sore and panting. "Maybe now you realize why I used a simple stinging curse. Your reflexes are amazing, I must say, and will prove useful in the coming war. I think I am already coming up with ideas we would need your abilities for."
"I am not a weapon." Harry answered, propping himself up on his elbows. "And I am through with the war. I told you."
"You may be right, again, I fear. If you were to get any permanent damage in the war, I do not know what I would do." Voldemort replied smugly. "But come, enough with this. It is time to rest."
Harry headed to his cage in hopes he could spend the night in there. Although, he knew there was no chance in this.
"Where do you think you're going, Harry?" you could hear the smug tone dripping from the Dark Lord's words.
Harry turn around. He knew what Voldemort wanted. He also knew there was no point in trying to put up a fight with all the madness.
The Dark Lord beckoned Harry to lie beside him, causing Harry to sigh. He would relent, but the man would get no farther than the butterfly kisses. Of course, Voldemort had other intentions.
As soon as Harry got into the bed beside the Dark Lord, he was immediately repositioned and his head was lying on Voldemort's arm. The Dark lord leaned over him and gazed with lust-filled eyes.
"It is good to see you becoming so obedient"-
"Save the bullshit," Harry mumbled, getting more and more frustrated with each speech from Voldemort.
Why would the Dark Lord want him? Surely there were more handsome, or prettier people. Besides, he was a boy. A young boy! The pedophile! Harry had to be…fifty or so years younger.
Of course, Voldemort began with stroking Harry's wings. His personal favorite thing, Harry had guessed. Harry felt like a teddy bear, Voldemort had him in such an embrace. He laughed at the thought. Voldemort with a teddy bear.
"Enjoying this, my pet?" Voldemort asked, clearly amused by the pleasure he thought he had given Harry.
"No, you bastard. I'd prefer to be in my own bed. In my own home." Harry said, agitated.
"But Harry, this is your home now. And it is your bed as well. One that you and I share." Voldemort said, nuzzling his nose into Harry's hair.
There was a pause. "You don't really think you're going to keep me here forever, do you?" Harry asked, having doubt himself he would escape.
"I'll do what I have to, my sweet."
Harry laughed again, something the Dark Lord enjoyed very much. "You can't be serious?" he questioned again.
"Shh." Voldemort said, arranging Harry so their faces were inches apart. Harry felt Voldemort's cold breath on his lips, "I'll do what I have to, my sweet."
He placed his lips against Harry's, shocking Harry and sending shivers down his spine. As Harry tried to pull away, Voldemort grasped his hair and pulled, gaining entrance certainly not permitted by Harry.
Voldemort slid his tongue along Harry's, sending a yelp from Harry. Voldemort could hear a muffled "Stop" and "No" but he carried on. The boy was his, and should learn his place quickly.
It seemed Voldemort had plenty of air, but Harry was quickly running out. His screams of protests did nothing, nor did his relentless kicking and pushing.
The kiss ended, and Voldemort looked at Harry, who was still trying to escape Voldemort's grasp.
"Let. Go. Of. Me. You. Sick. Bastard." Harry said, pounding his fist into Voldemort with each word. Minutes later, Harry stopped the fight.
What ever happened to just butterfly kisses? Harry had wondered, traumatized over being so violated.
"See how much easier it is to surrender to me Harry. Now I'll remind you of privileges, Harry. And your little show right there just lost you one."
Harry's eyes widened, wondering what exactly he could have possibly lost. Voldemort threw himself on top of the younger boy, holding Harry's arms over his head. With one free arm, he tugged on the waistline of Harry's pants.
"What are you doing?"
"I do believe pants aren't very befitting for you at the moment." Voldemort replied. He always wore that same, sickening smile.
Kicking ruthlessly seemed useless for Harry, and he certainly did not want Voldemort to continue in what he was doing. He turned his head, and bit the muscular arm.
"Love bites, Harry?" Voldemort asked, and with one swift movement he yanked the pants from Harry's legs.
By now the lights were completely off, and the temperature in the room was slightly chilled. Voldemort pulled a whimpering Harry into one last teddy bear embrace.
"Goodnight, love."
End F l a s h b a c k
The Boy-who-lived had not slept at all that night. Not one minute. Just yesterday he was eagerly waiting for the time when Draco would come back and visit. He was too tired for anything now, and his bed looked so inviting. Maybe Draco wouldn't mind reading a book while Harry slept a few minutes or hours.
Harry couldn't understand Voldemort. One minute he is out to kill Harry, and the next he wants him as a lover? More like a slave, Harry thought bitterly.
It wasn't fair, not that life ever was for Harry.
But now was time for sleep. For wonderful, glorious relaxation and rest. For him to close his eyes and drift off-
"Harry," Harry opened his eyes. Draco stood before him wet and wrapped in a sheet. No one accompanied him.
"How did you get here?" Harry asked warily.
"My Lord took it upon himself to give me a portkey activating twice each day." The blonde said, pointing at a ring on his finger, " It just so happened I was showering at the time it went off. May I borrow some clothes?" Draco questioned, looking as though those words were the hardest five things to say.
"Yeah, go grab whatever you want." Harry answered, and situated himself into a more comfortable position.
"You tired?" Harry heard Draco ask. "I know I didn't get an ounce of sleep last night. What was your problem?"
"Er…" Harry said, stuttering for an answer.
"Oh, right." Draco said, looking guilty. "You don't need to go into detail."
There was an awkward pause between the two boys, of which neither knew what to say.
But Harry wondered. Did everyone know he was Voldemort's…whore? Did this mean the Order did as well? Snape could have sent a message. But no, he did not want help from the order. He would get out of this on his own.
Finally, Draco spoke into the silence, "You don't mind if I just take a nap here, do you?" he indicated to the small black couch. "You seem pretty tired yourself…"
"Oh, that would be great. I'm exhausted." Harry said gratefully.
Draco immediately settled into the couch, and Harry snuggled under his blankets. Another awkward silence had filled the room. An air of the two teenagers past feuding filled the room.
Draco shifted his position on the couch. It looked much to small, and uncomfortable for him to sleep on.
The couch creaked again as Draco moved again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
"Draco!" Harry shouted, alarmed by his sudden outburst. "Would you like to share the bed?" Harry's eyes widened. He had just invited his former rival, a boy no less, into bed with him.
Harry was surprised when Draco responded, "You wouldn't mind, would you?"
"No, we'll just split sides." Harry slid to the far end of the bed.
When Draco plodded onto the bed, the word awkward was an understatement. Thankfully, Draco had his own blanket, and they did not share one. Harry vaguely wondered what Voldemort would do if he were to walk into this scene.
Harry found himself relieved once again as he felt sweet oblivion drag him-
"Hey Harry," Harry nearly cursed the words spoken from Draco's mouth.
"Yeah?" Harry's voice sounded weak.
"How did you get your wings?" Draco replied curiously.
He knew this would be brought up sooner or later. He didn't really mind telling Draco, although. But it was not much of a story to tell.
"It's not much. I was sleeping, and felt horrible pains shoot through my back. That's just a summary I guess…" Harry drifted off. "They can be a pain."
"Mm, I know." Came the soft voice of Draco.
Harry wasn't sure whether Draco was becoming tired and just answering, but he questioned anyway, "You know?"
He looked at Draco who seemed to have a fearful and regretful look on his face. The blonde stood from the bed and through off his shirt.
"Draco, what the hell?" Harry shouted at the sudden action that came from Draco. What was he playing at?
"No, Harry, it's something else. Certainly not that." Draco said, disgust lingering in his tone.
"Fine, what is it then…oh."
Harry's sentence trailed away at the sight. In one swift movement, white beautiful feathers hung out of Draco's back into what Harry assumed may be a twelve or so foot wingspan.
They were wings.
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I originally planned for some slash interaction between Harry and Draco, but didn't put it. I hope you like the chapter.
I am going to be in Mexico for a bit, so please understand the delay in updates!
Have a Happy season everyone!
Werewolf777
