The Funeral

It was the brightest and warmest day of the year. A cause of celebration for Brits everywhere as summer finally returned to Great Britain, Harry found it a great mockery. The skies 'ought to have been torn in their grief, should have been an anguished grey, and should have drenched the ground with their tears. Instead there wasn't a cloud in a sky, the sky was clearest it had been for some considerable time, and the sun was radiant and hot - it was in essence a perfect summers day... But it wasn't, and nothing would be perfect again. Perfection had lived and breathed, had brought his life to impossible levels of passion, desire, pleasure and most of all happiness! But then Perfection had been killed by a filthy low-life, of who was to suffer the fate of the Dementor's Kiss and serve a life-long sentence in Azkaban. It only mildly satisfied Harry's thirst for Percy's blood, Harry wanted Percy's soul to burn eternally tormented in hell, anything less did his crime no justice.

The glass coffin was eventually carried out to the school grounds, the sunshine hit the glass and made it appear like a huge, sparkly, diamond... A cold hand settled onto his left shoulder, Harry made a sideways glance, but Lucius was looking unblinkingly at the coffin, his hard silver eyes tortured with guilt and grief. Harry turned his attention back to the coffin, but did nothing about the hand on his shoulder, for some reason Harry felt comforted by it, he supposed Lucius and Narcissa were his last links left, the last link to Draco... Harry felt Hermione tenderly take his right hand, her gentle touch felt acidic to Harry and he roughly escaped her grip. He could sense her hurt, but found he didn't care, the Trio's Reformation had been fragile at best, now with Draco gone all the cruel things Ron and Hermione had done kept assaulting his mind. But what really made Harry burn with bitterness was the constant reminder of what it was he'd lost. Seeing the two of them together made Harry sick with jealously. It shouldn't be Hermione and Ron comforting each other, and mourning for a person they had no right to shed a tear for... No, one of them should be in that coffin, Harry should have been mourning the death of a friend, in Draco's arms and yet clutching at him desperately, thankful he hadn't lost him.

"Would you like to say goodbye, Harry?"

A soft voice murmured, cutting through Harry's dark thoughts, it took him a little while to respond.

"Come with me, you and Narcissa were his family, we all were, you meant the world to him."

Narcissa let out a grateful sob, and in an uncustomary display of emotion, threw her arms around him.

"Thank you, oh Harry you have no idea what this means to Lucius and I!"

Harry, startled patted her back awkwardly, he had seen precious little of Narcissa, but she perhaps as well as Lucius were the only people who could begin to truly appreciate what he was going through. So with an elder Malfoy either side, the three made a slow procession towards the coffin, before it was to be lowered into the grave. Harry felt himself shake as he touched the cold glass, Draco looked beautiful, his hair had been brushed and so shone in the sun, his pale flawless skin seemed to glow in the rays.

"You'll always be mine Draco, you'll always be my... exquisite Veela - always, I love you..."

As he watched the coffin being lowered into the ground Harry felt an icy numbness fill him. His life, his purpose was over. He wasn't the Chosen One any longer. Voldemort was gone, and he wasn't Harry the Mate either. Everything about his old life was over. Who he was was over, gone, finished. He'd not just lost Draco that night; he'd lost himself and his identity - Now he had to create himself all over. He wasn't sure he could. He'd been so sure for who he was, why he was here, what was expected of him, now as the burial came to an eventual end Harry was no longer sure.

The procession all turned to look at him, tradition stating that the beloved of the late departed would form the grave headstone, Harry walked numbly towards the newly dug grave. Harry fell to his knees before it; he outstretched his hand and closed his eyes. He pictured the gravestone in his mind, a pure, brilliant white marble with elegant script... Harry opened his eyes and there it was it looked majestic, the sunlight made the marble of the gravestone look even grander...

Draco Lucius Malfoy

Beloved son and exquisite Veela

of Harry Potter

V.I.P

But Harry could only admire briefly before all too quickly the icy numbness settled back, and Harry forced himself to the leave the grave, feeling dead inside.

A year later...

Music was thumbing around him, for Harry the beating of the music was to him the beating of his heart. A year had gone since Draco's death, since Harry James Potter had died and he had achieved precious little ... Anxious blue eyes flashed in the disco lights, and Harry's attention was captured. Harry looked hungrily into those seemingly timid blue eyes, like an animal in heat, Harry's tongue rolled over his teeth, never breaking eye contact, the man stayed still. Harry sneered, his top lip curling upwards almost like a snarl. He took his last swig of his vodka shots and leapt impressively off his stool, showing off, radiating of dominance. Eyes flittered towards him, but Harry only smirked in acknowledgement and with predatory slowness, Harry approached the man in shadow.

As he got closer it became apparent that he had chosen a good-looking man, his hair had a feathery sort of texture and framed his face in delicate 'flaxen-coloured' curls, he had fairly pale skin, but it wasn't flawless like Draco's had been, his face was scattered with freckles, but then teamed up with the dimples in cheeks, it all added to a face of innocence... It made Harry want to make that face contort into screams, as he defiled the innocent. Though Harry doubted such an attractive man was truly an innocent - it was just part of his appeal. And yet by the man's subdued nature he obviously didn't just sleep around. That suited Harry, he'd draw him in, seduce him with sweet promises and half-deliverances, no one had denied him so far, and Harry seriously doubted he'd met his match.

Harry reached out his hand, and curiously the other man flinched. Harry looked at him searchingly, Harry could hear the other man's heavy breathing and his instinct was telling him the other man was attracted to him, more slowly this time and smouldering the man with intense eye contact, Harry tried again, this time the man did not flinch, but leant his cheek into Harry's palm, and almost respectfully averted his gaze to the floor. It appealed to Harry's dominant side, but left the rest of Harry slightly baffled... The man's hair moved slightly as the pair swayed, and Harry caught sight of the man's pale, vulnerable neck. Harry made a sharp intake, for some reason feeling a strong pull towards it. The hand that had caressed the man's cheek, gently trailed down to the nape of the neck... The man jerked slightly and his blue flashed up to meet Harry's.

"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you..."

Harry whispered softly, though his eyes glinted and looked insincere, as he moved in towards his neck. He kissed the sensitive skin softly, and the man trembled slightly, Harry smiled against the smooth flesh, and planted butterfly kisses up the neck.

"S-Stop, please..."

The man's voice was throaty and full of need, but Harry pulled away regardless, he was beginning to get seriously confused with this man. He wanted a shag, a bloody good shag, and despite appealing appearances that was looking more unlikely with every passing second.

"I thought you liked it? You sounded like you did..."

Harry drawled, the man didn't reply for a small while, an acute uneasiness in his expressive blue eyes that made Harry wonder if he'd picked the wrong man after all.

"I do, I-I-"

But Harry wasn't interested in anymore, he wanted a shag. Full stop. He had no wish to hear the man's life story, as long as he was willing that was all Harry cared about. So before the man could divulge into whatever was obviously bothering him, Harry captured his lips with his own. He felt the lips yield to him instantly; this man seemed the epiphany of submission. And for Harry it was a welcome change, he preferred his shags this way, it meant he got to call the shots. No names exchanged - though they all knew his name regardless, no small talk, just pure, uncomplicated sex. But it seemed lately, all he had attracted were fellow Dominants, and whilst the battle for control was exciting and exhilarating for Harry, sometimes it meant things become more complicated than Harry wanted when the other Dominant won control. There'd be no fight tonight; this gentle man seemed bound to his will, allowing Harry to fully claim his mouth, as Harry's tongue plundered it simply because he could.

Harry pulled away panting, Harry smirked as he could see his partner's blue eyes were dilated with lust. Possessively, Harry hands wrapped around the other man's waist and pulled him into his chest, lightly biting the nape of his neck in a subtle show of dominance.

"Mine"

Harry whispered harshly, his way of asking whether the other was willing or not.

"Yours..."

The man breathed, before allowing his forehead to rest on Harry's shoulder. Harry smirked again, before apparating them to his room... Malfoy Manor.

****

Inside what had been a spare room, but was now as Harry had dubbed his 'Shag Room', Harry pulled away from the other man completely, the man made a small whine at the loss.

"Do you want me?"

Harry taunted, his eyes smouldering yet as hard as emeralds.

"I want you..."

The man replied obediently, but sincerely. Harry sneered.

"Of course you do..."

He came up to the man and looked into his eyes.

"Strip, and make a show, impress me."

Harry hissed, almost sounding like a snake, the man's pale hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, he was clearly nervous. Until half-way down, before Harry became seriously dissatisfied, he appeared to find an inner confidence; he made intense blue eyes look heavy and turned the smoulders on Harry. He parted his delicate looking lips, and flexing his shoulders softly, slowly allowed the shirt to fall to the floor.

Harry felt himself grow painfully hard, the man's body it's self was pretty normal, compact but well-defined - but it was his face. The facial expressions the man was making made Harry want to force him into his back and take him hard... Harry clenched his fists. And when the only thing the man was adorning was his now bulging boxers, he looked up at Harry, and his voice took a sultry turn.

"Yours..."

Before dropping the boxers and stepping out of them. He looked so vulnerable, utterly exposed that Harry really felt his dominance come to the forefront.

"Beg. Get down on your knees and beg me. Beg for me to touch you, to have you..."

Without any shame, the man dropped to his knees, his eyes wide and suitably pleading.

"Please, I'm yours, all yours! Yours to do with as you will! Please god, touch me! Claim me! Fuck me! Have me! Take me! Please... Master"

Harry soaked the begging in, he was so hard he thought he'd come in his pants. He offered his hand.

"Kiss it."

Gentle hands, lightly steadied Harry's hand and soft lips kissed it reverently. Harry smiled and knelt down also, he took the man's face into his hands and carefully nudged it to the side; the man complied exposing his long neck.

"Your neck..."

"Your chalice..."

The man replied, before Harry bit down hard on the skin, Harry could taste a faint coppery tang; he sucked at the skin harshly. For some reason Harry really wanted to make his mark, a dark love bite against pale skin. The sounds the man was making sounded torn between pain and pleasure; he stifled his cry of pain when Harry moved away from his neck. Harry looked at the purple love bite approvingly; he placed a single fingertip to it and delighted when the man hissed in pain.

"Stay kneeling, look up at me."

The man, trying to ignore the stinging throb in his neck, raised his head as Harry stood and like a trained porn star made him salivate as Harry stripped. Harry looked down at the kneeling man, an arrogant sneer on his face, before growling and stooping down, grasping the kneeling man's waist, his nails digging into the reddening flesh, the man wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and with a rough growl Harry scooped him off the ground and charged into the nearest wall, banging his bare back against a solid wall, pain rocketed up his back and he howled, until Harry cut him off and kissed him roughly. Harry pulled away from his mouth, and immediately began kissing and lightly nipping at his neck, Harry paused briefly, he looked into the man's blue eyes before biting hard at the sore love bite... The man screamed out, his entire body withering, his hands scratching at Harry's back, before yelping as Harry, knowing the bed was right beside them swung from the wall and threw him onto the bed, promptly pouncing on top of him. The man arched into him as Harry's hands pinned the other man's wrists down, before leaning down and giving an punishing kiss. Pulling on his magic, Harry wandlessly prepared the man. He pulled away.

"Ready?"

"Want you; want to feel you inside of me, all the way."

Harry had been carefully positing himself, and after hearing 'all the way' immediately plunged himself mercilessly into him. The man was so tight, and with his member being clenched so tightly in velvety, warm walls Harry almost came there and then. Harry could feel it coming, the real reason he drank himself stupid and shagged himself silly - the release! The transportation to a place where there was nothing but physical pleasure. He could forget; forget about his shattered, frozen heart; and for those blissful moments the endless shags and hangovers were worth it.

Harry felt himself shake. He dug his nails into the man's thigh flesh and screamed as he climaxed. A wave of sexual pleasure so extreme it almost knocked him out blew him away. He collapsed onto his side, lying beside the man who had come straight after him. They lay there for a moment, their minds blasted away from their bodies and just basking in the afterglow, the man recovered first, and his face, hot and sweaty, but endearingly tender leaned forward with the intention of giving Harry a soft kiss. Harry looked at him dozily for a moment, before realising his intention and physically rebuffing him. The man looked at him hurt and confused. Harry just looked at him detachedly, with none of the burning desire from before, he had served his purpose to Harry, he'd been a hell of a Pro in bed, given him a mind-shattering orgasm and that was that. Their business was done, what more was there? Other than for Harry to ensure safe transport home?

"Can you apparate? Or should I arrange for transport?"

"I don't... I don't understand?"

The man replied; his voice seemed moments from breaking. Harry looked at him irritated. This was the problem with Subs, Dominants understood the concept. This was a one-off thing, and after the sex was done they'd never have anything to do with each other again. Subs on the other hand were reluctant to let go, always thinking there was something beyond the one evening.

"I think I made myself perfectly clear, get dressed then go home."

Tears collected in the man's blue eyes.

"I thought... I thought you wanted me?"

"I did"

"But then-"

"- I wanted you for a shag."

Harry might as well have hit him, the man looked so pained. Harry just looked at him in exasperation.

"What did you think was going to happen? That this was the start of a beautiful relationship!"

The man didn't say anything; he looked so tortured by it all. He shakily got off the bed and hurriedly put on his garments. Harry sighed tiredly, he'd put his hand to the door knob when a voice rang out.

"Wait..."

Despite himself, something deep within Harry, stopped him for continuing on and exhaling deeply he turned back around.

"Someone did a right number on you didn't they? That's what tonight was? A night from the list of many! Find a bloke, take him home, have a shag then send him packing! You know what you need?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You're about to tell me I suppose..."

"A prostitute! At least that's their job! I saw you looking at me and I thought you were just like all the rest of them, interested in the night but nothing past that. You promised me! You looked into my eyes and you promised me you weren't hurt me.... And the fool I am I believed you. Thought you were better than all the wankers that keep coming into my life! Well never again! Whoever you were with HAD A BLOODLY LUCKY ESCAPE!"

Harry saw red, and with his entire strength, hit the man across the face. The man fell to the floor just as Lucius opened the door.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME IS GOING ON HERE?!"

Harry momentarily leapt back in shock, caught off guard at Lucius's furious voice and sudden appearance. Lucius's silver eyes flashed onto the man sprawled out on the floor. Immediately, he ran to his side hoisting him up from the floor.

"What ARE you doing Harry?!"

Lucius shot Harry a murderous glare, before turning his attention to the hurt man beside him, his face quite instantly contrite and his tone deeply apologetic.

"I cannot apologise enough for Harry's conduct, I can only say he really isn't in his right mind right now-"

"Not interested-"

"Please, I will personally patch you up and one of our carriages will escort you home, as I said I cannot apologise enough, just please come with me now."

The man didn't say anything, and so Lucius gently guided him out of the room, but before leaving, he glared at Harry furiously.

"You and I are not done here..."

Hey! For this chapter I was really trying to show the negative effect Draco's death has had on Harry, will be very interested to know how you think the chapter works, (or doesn't!)

Thanks

Lisi the slayer!