"I dare you too," had sealed the fate of the Boy Who Lived, the first reply back a long-suffering groan.

"Isn't that a bit childish...?" He was pleading with Draco just a little, mouth saying words while he ran fingers down his lover's cock. But Draco was a Malfoy, and apparently immune to pleasure when he wanted to.

"Two days, Harry." Pulling the fingers that had been running along his flesh upwards, Draco's tongue flicked out before he sucked the digits between his lips. Another moan, much more agreeable, met the timetable and with that, Draco picked up the leather strap, smirking. Even the act of putting it on Potter was turned into near-sex, the Slytherin skillfully rubbing and pressing his erect penis between the cheeks of the other boy's arse, eventually pressing the boy down to his knees and fucking him right there.

Two buckles, one spell, and the collar was on. Kissing Harry's neck, the other boy murmuring satedly in his orgasm-induced sleep, Draco slipped out of the Room, satisfied smirk firmly in place. Harry Potter had faced Potions Masters, Dark Lords, and his father, but Draco and his ideas always won. The collar had been Draco's idea - it smacked of him, when examined - but even Harry had whisperingly admitted to being curious. The battle had been over who would wear it, with Draco using every Slytherin wile to ensure he won.

The first few hours Harry was awake, nothing was really noticed. Alright, Harry thought, so his eyes constantly went over to Draco at the Slytherin table, but when was that new? Shifting in his seat, the first stirrings came with that Draco-styled smirk Face flushing, the Gryffindor felt the expression at his groin, a rather unusual location, and tried to focus on his food again.

By third lesson, Harry was thanking Madam Malkins that his new robes could be done-up better in the front, and that they were lose on him. Draco's expressions, his private smiles, did nothing but drive spikes of desire through him at the moment, each and every one moving down to put as much blood as possible into his already rock hard penis. When Draco had brushed against him, momentarily putting his warm - gods so warm - body right against his, a shudder had wracked his frame, followed by a soft, urgent moan.

"Problems," Draco's voice was right beside his ear, silver eyes watching the flushed Gryffindor with glee, "Potter?" And while Harry had stammered, working on putting a more coherent accusation together, Draco had left. And then Harry moaned again, pressing against the cold stone wall of the castle, because Draco had touched him when leaving and he hadn't stayed to finish the bloody job.

The night brought about a brand new revelation, one which Harry was not pleased with. Spending an entire day harder than he had ever been before, the prospect of release was so sweet and needed - his hand had wrapped around his straining cock under the safety of a Silence Charm and moved and nothing had happened. There was no reason to not be able to get off, except no matter what, all it did was drive him even further into arousal.

The next day had a bright-eyed Draco meeting Harry in the Halls outside the Great Hall, so very easily pressing the Gryffindor into a side shoot and up against the wall. Harry's eyes were dilated with lust at the mere touch, mouth open in a half-pant as he rubbed it felt so good against Draco.

Lips teased down his neck Harry arching it so shamelessly for him, just to get more feel, and Draco chuckled, the sound pressed into his skin. "Like the collar now, Potter?"

He groaned, Draco's tongue running along the small leather and doing unspeakably good things now, sending lightening bolts of pleasure everywhere, to his chest and nipples, to his groin and cock, and to his arse. Hands worked on undoing the clasp of Draco's robes, every flick of that tongue against the leather making him pant and plead for more. But this time, maddeningly, Draco pulled back, leaving Harry breathless, groaning and so much worse off than before.