A/N: Whoopeeee! A li'l Christmas something for you all! I am (finally)
back, and back I am with the longest chapter so far and a PLOT! Yes, I
finally got my head round the semi-plot to this story! I would like to
thank you all so so soooooooooooooo much for all your wonderful reviews!
The constructive criticism really helps, and I really am sorry that I
couldn't update for MONTHS - I was busy with my mocks and everything. They
are EVIL! I got a D for History. Oh well. :::::shrugs::::: It's just
History. And half the class got a D too, so I'm safe! Anyhow, back to the
story, it's not as twisted (I don't think) as the previous chapters, and
there are actually tiny inklings towards a plot in this one! Oh yeah, and
to Mogli the Witch - this story will have quite a few different (and
somewhat twisted) pairings, but I don't think Harry/Lucius will be one of
them. Sorry! But continue reading, anyway!
Now I would like to introduce chapter 3!!! Please read, enjoy, and review/flame!!!
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all the characters. :::::shakes head while muttering darkly about getting Draco Malfoy in bed and covered in strawberry syrup if she owned him:::::
WARNINGS: SLASH. Slight squickiness. Angst. You know, the usual.
~~~~~~~~~~~ Anything For You ~~~~~~~~~~~
Eventually the screaming stopped. It must've been . . . three, four hours, maybe?
Harry cautiously opened his eyes.
What he saw next made him feel slightly nauseas. There was Draco Malfoy, Junior Death Eater, the spy for the Dark, the slut of Slytherin lying in a pool of his own blood, while the Dark Lord was standing a few feet away from him, calmly putting his robes back on.
Harry anxiously peered at the pale boy lying on the cold stone ground (he had fixed his eyesight with a spell in 6th year). He still seemed to be breathing, albeit in quite a shallow way. Harry only just noticed how small and frail Draco seemed to be after something like this. Come to think of it, he looked quite frail even before the 'something like this' happened.
Harry suddenly felt a sharp stab of guilt as he realised that it was because of //him// that Draco got . . . raped. If he hadn't called him a slut, then this wouldn't have happened. Harry squeezed his eyes shut tight again. There's another life I've destroyed, he thought gloomily.
"Throw him in the dungeon," Voldemort said, nodding his head at Harry.
Harry opened his eyes a few seconds later, in time to see Voldemort crouching over Draco, caressing his face with a twisted smile on his face.
The Death Eaters holding Harry grunted their response, and roughly pulled him away from the dungeon that he was in, and started descending down some stairs.
They went through a dark stone corridor.
Right, left, left, right, right, right, left, right, left, left, right, left . . .
It was too difficult to remember how many turns they made.
Eventually they got to a small dark room, where the Death Eaters threw Harry.
One of them shoved the black-haired boy against the wall, evidently not caring if he'd hurt him or not, and started chaining his hands to the wall.
Harry tried to kick out, but the Death Eater just carried on chaining him to the wall, as another one punched Harry in the stomach, making him keel over, coughing.
The two Death Eaters walked out of the room without a backward glance, closing the door, and most probably locking it. Room? It was more like a //cell//! Only without the bars.
Harry clenched his eyes again.
What the fuck was he going to //do//?
He was trapped God-knows-where, Draco Malfoy had just gotten //raped// because of him, none of his friends probably even //knew// he was missing, and here's the really big corker to top it all off; Voldemort probably had some sick fantasy about //fucking// him to death!
Harry let out a frustrated snarl and opened his eyes, rattling his chains for all he was worth . . . but to no avail. There were no windows in his cell, and the only light was the one coming out of the barred window-type thing near the top of the door.
The Boy Who Lived briefly considered shouting for help, but he doubted that any Death Eaters would come running to his rescue at his own beck and call.
Maybe there were more prisoners somewhere around here . . . well, if there were, they were probably chained up too, Harry thought dully.
There was no possible way of getting out of this cell.
Well, that is unless Harry suddenly acquired either his wand, or incredibly strong wandless-magic powers and removed his chains, and then the door, and found a map of this entire building-type thing, which just //happened// to be lying around, and which showed the movements of every single Death Eater there was in this place, and he just 'borrowed' a broom that was oh-so- conveniently placed right outside the door, and he used his wandless magic to blast a hole in the wall, and flew away back home to Hogwarts, but not before killing Voldemort and dropping all the other Death Eaters off to Azkaban, and Draco Malfoy //possibly// to St Mungo's to recover from being raped, of course . . .
But none of those things were going to happen. Not in the next hundred years, anyway.
So Harry chose to wait.
He waited for about half an hour, when the door opened again.
And in was thrown a tired-looking Draco Malfoy.
"Malfoy!" Harry said, more out of not having anything to say, than anything else.
Two Death Eaters, as with Harry, chained Malfoy's hands to the wall. He merely looked bored.
One of the Death Eaters started caressing his pale face for a bit, and said in a raspy voice, "You're a very pretty boy, Malfoy."
"Wouldn't want our Master to catch you touching what he touched first!" Malfoy spat.
The Death Eater quickly stopped touching Malfoy's face, and took his hand away so quickly it was as if he had been burned. He glared at Malfoy, before following his companion out of the door, and locking it.
"Malfoy." Harry said again.
Malfoy looked at the ground, seemingly unable to meet Harry's eyes.
"Malfoy," Harry said, in a softer tone.
Malfoy still didn't look up.
"Draco, look at me," Harry tried.
Malfoy tensed a bit, then brought his head up and turned it towards Harry.
"Y-yes?" he said.
"Malfoy, look, I'm sorry. I am //so// sorry, I-I didn't know . . . I didn't know that he would-" Harry started apologising.
"Don't worry 'bout it," Draco said, looking slightly ashamed.
"Draco, are you . . . are you alright?" Harry asked.
Draco gave him a look.
"Right. Stupid question. Sorry." There was a pause. "I am //so//, so, sorry, Draco, I didn't-"
Draco shook his head darkly.
"Don't worry about me, Potter. It's not the first time it's happened to me. Nor the second. Or third . . ." he paused, frowning.
"Not the first time?" Harry's gaze was incredulous.
Draco nodded.
"Anyway, if anybody needs to apologise . . . it's me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I brought you here, but I had no choice, I'm serious, it was either bring you here, or . . ." Draco stopped talking.
"Or what?" Harry asked.
"Never mind," Draco shook his head.
"Can I ask you a question?" Harry asked tentatively.
"You just did," came Draco's dead-pan reply.
"Right. Well, I . . . your dad, why doesn't he-?" Harry started, but Draco cut him off.
"He doesn't care. Not surprising, really, considering what a great son I'm turning out to be." the blonde said.
"But . . . but . . . h-he's your father, how can he . . .?" Harry's voice trailed off.
Draco snorted softly.
"Malfoys don't care about anyone but themselves. The bastard was probably wishing it were him in my place," he said.
Harry's eyes widened slightly.
"Y-you mean he . . . your father actually l-l-likes V-?" he seemed unable to go on.
Draco shrugged his shoulders in a non-committed manner.
"He's obsessed with him. He'd do anything for him. He moans his name at night when he's asleep. I'm pretty sure that he 'likes' him," the pale boy replied.
"What . . . what are they going to do to you?" Harry asked softly.
"What, you mean after this?" Draco asked, rattling his chains a bit.
Harry nodded.
Draco sighed.
"They'll probably have me in for a bit of good old torture - the muggle way, of course. It's always the muggle way . . ." he paused, looking thoughtful. "Knifes, daggers, broken glass . . . you name it, they've got it," he said, shaking his head.
"Draco . . ." Harry said, an expression of pain for the boy.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll be fine. I've survived it before, so why should this time be any different?" the fair-haired boy said lightly, although his eyes looked dead as he spoke.
"Draco . . . I . . . I don't know if I can apologise enough. It's . . . it's //all// my fault, I shouldn't have-" Harry started, but Draco cut across him.
"Oh, get over yourself, Harry. Not //everything// in this world is //your// fault. You flatter yourself too much," he said, giving him the trademark Malfoy smirk, despite the morbidness of the situation.
"When was the first time . . . that it . . . that it happened?" Harry asked gently.
Draco shrugged nonchalantly.
"Not sure. Probably summer after fifth year, I think," he ignored Harry's wide eyes. "That's when I became a Death Eaters, anyway. Youngest one in a century," Draco snorted. "Fat lot of good that did me. I mean, sure, I became a 'spy', but . . . it's not all it's made out to be you, know?"
Harry was just nodding wordlessly.
"Well, actually, you //don't// know, since you've never exactly been a spy for him, have you, well, anyway, that's probably enough about that subject since you've been captured and-"
"The summer after fifth year?" Harry asked, seemingly having not heard anything Draco said after that sentence.
Draco shrugged.
"Come on, Harry. I was fifteen. Anyway, it's not like it was my first time either. That was all the way back in second year," the blonde said. "What about you? When was your first time?"
"M-m-me?" Harry asked, briefly thinking how Draco could have had sex at such a young age, and also wondering when they had slipped into using each other's first names.
"Yeah, you. D'you anyone else round here?" Draco smirked.
Harry blushed slightly.
"Don't tell me you're still a virgin!" Draco grinned evilly.
"No, no, it's just that . . . well, my first time was . . . summer before seventh year." Harry said, briefly acknowledging how funny it was that he and Draco would probably be tortured in a few hours, and here they were, chatting about sex like old buddies. When they had hated each other just a few hours ago. Well, Harry hated //him//, more specifically.
"Come on, spill, Harry. Who was it with?" the blonde asked.
Harry squirmed slightly.
"You first," he said.
"Alright. Mine was with Damian. He's my fourth cousin three times removed by marriage, or something or other. Damn, he was sex on legs, with his dark blonde hair and blue eyes . . . I never regretted it, even though I was twelve and he was eighteen. So, Harry . . . who was your first time with?" Draco pressed on.
"It was, with, um . . . Ron," the Boy Who Lived said, looking embarrassed.
Draco's eyes widened.
"No way! You and Weasley? I always thought that you were 'more than just friends'!" he exclaimed with glee.
"It wasn't exactly like that. It's just . . . I was a virgin, and we were both curious about what it would be like with a boy, so . . . I guess you can say that the rest is history," Harry said.
"Damn. That's . . . well, I dunno what that is, but . . . not exactly the person I expected you to shag, Harry."
"Who d'you have expected me to shag then, Draco?"
"Well, if you want the honest truth . . ." Draco's voice was somewhat husky, and he leant in closer to Harry, so close that their noses were almost touching . . .
"Me." Draco whispered, and his lips met Harry's.
TBC.
Now I would like to introduce chapter 3!!! Please read, enjoy, and review/flame!!!
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all the characters. :::::shakes head while muttering darkly about getting Draco Malfoy in bed and covered in strawberry syrup if she owned him:::::
WARNINGS: SLASH. Slight squickiness. Angst. You know, the usual.
~~~~~~~~~~~ Anything For You ~~~~~~~~~~~
Eventually the screaming stopped. It must've been . . . three, four hours, maybe?
Harry cautiously opened his eyes.
What he saw next made him feel slightly nauseas. There was Draco Malfoy, Junior Death Eater, the spy for the Dark, the slut of Slytherin lying in a pool of his own blood, while the Dark Lord was standing a few feet away from him, calmly putting his robes back on.
Harry anxiously peered at the pale boy lying on the cold stone ground (he had fixed his eyesight with a spell in 6th year). He still seemed to be breathing, albeit in quite a shallow way. Harry only just noticed how small and frail Draco seemed to be after something like this. Come to think of it, he looked quite frail even before the 'something like this' happened.
Harry suddenly felt a sharp stab of guilt as he realised that it was because of //him// that Draco got . . . raped. If he hadn't called him a slut, then this wouldn't have happened. Harry squeezed his eyes shut tight again. There's another life I've destroyed, he thought gloomily.
"Throw him in the dungeon," Voldemort said, nodding his head at Harry.
Harry opened his eyes a few seconds later, in time to see Voldemort crouching over Draco, caressing his face with a twisted smile on his face.
The Death Eaters holding Harry grunted their response, and roughly pulled him away from the dungeon that he was in, and started descending down some stairs.
They went through a dark stone corridor.
Right, left, left, right, right, right, left, right, left, left, right, left . . .
It was too difficult to remember how many turns they made.
Eventually they got to a small dark room, where the Death Eaters threw Harry.
One of them shoved the black-haired boy against the wall, evidently not caring if he'd hurt him or not, and started chaining his hands to the wall.
Harry tried to kick out, but the Death Eater just carried on chaining him to the wall, as another one punched Harry in the stomach, making him keel over, coughing.
The two Death Eaters walked out of the room without a backward glance, closing the door, and most probably locking it. Room? It was more like a //cell//! Only without the bars.
Harry clenched his eyes again.
What the fuck was he going to //do//?
He was trapped God-knows-where, Draco Malfoy had just gotten //raped// because of him, none of his friends probably even //knew// he was missing, and here's the really big corker to top it all off; Voldemort probably had some sick fantasy about //fucking// him to death!
Harry let out a frustrated snarl and opened his eyes, rattling his chains for all he was worth . . . but to no avail. There were no windows in his cell, and the only light was the one coming out of the barred window-type thing near the top of the door.
The Boy Who Lived briefly considered shouting for help, but he doubted that any Death Eaters would come running to his rescue at his own beck and call.
Maybe there were more prisoners somewhere around here . . . well, if there were, they were probably chained up too, Harry thought dully.
There was no possible way of getting out of this cell.
Well, that is unless Harry suddenly acquired either his wand, or incredibly strong wandless-magic powers and removed his chains, and then the door, and found a map of this entire building-type thing, which just //happened// to be lying around, and which showed the movements of every single Death Eater there was in this place, and he just 'borrowed' a broom that was oh-so- conveniently placed right outside the door, and he used his wandless magic to blast a hole in the wall, and flew away back home to Hogwarts, but not before killing Voldemort and dropping all the other Death Eaters off to Azkaban, and Draco Malfoy //possibly// to St Mungo's to recover from being raped, of course . . .
But none of those things were going to happen. Not in the next hundred years, anyway.
So Harry chose to wait.
He waited for about half an hour, when the door opened again.
And in was thrown a tired-looking Draco Malfoy.
"Malfoy!" Harry said, more out of not having anything to say, than anything else.
Two Death Eaters, as with Harry, chained Malfoy's hands to the wall. He merely looked bored.
One of the Death Eaters started caressing his pale face for a bit, and said in a raspy voice, "You're a very pretty boy, Malfoy."
"Wouldn't want our Master to catch you touching what he touched first!" Malfoy spat.
The Death Eater quickly stopped touching Malfoy's face, and took his hand away so quickly it was as if he had been burned. He glared at Malfoy, before following his companion out of the door, and locking it.
"Malfoy." Harry said again.
Malfoy looked at the ground, seemingly unable to meet Harry's eyes.
"Malfoy," Harry said, in a softer tone.
Malfoy still didn't look up.
"Draco, look at me," Harry tried.
Malfoy tensed a bit, then brought his head up and turned it towards Harry.
"Y-yes?" he said.
"Malfoy, look, I'm sorry. I am //so// sorry, I-I didn't know . . . I didn't know that he would-" Harry started apologising.
"Don't worry 'bout it," Draco said, looking slightly ashamed.
"Draco, are you . . . are you alright?" Harry asked.
Draco gave him a look.
"Right. Stupid question. Sorry." There was a pause. "I am //so//, so, sorry, Draco, I didn't-"
Draco shook his head darkly.
"Don't worry about me, Potter. It's not the first time it's happened to me. Nor the second. Or third . . ." he paused, frowning.
"Not the first time?" Harry's gaze was incredulous.
Draco nodded.
"Anyway, if anybody needs to apologise . . . it's me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I brought you here, but I had no choice, I'm serious, it was either bring you here, or . . ." Draco stopped talking.
"Or what?" Harry asked.
"Never mind," Draco shook his head.
"Can I ask you a question?" Harry asked tentatively.
"You just did," came Draco's dead-pan reply.
"Right. Well, I . . . your dad, why doesn't he-?" Harry started, but Draco cut him off.
"He doesn't care. Not surprising, really, considering what a great son I'm turning out to be." the blonde said.
"But . . . but . . . h-he's your father, how can he . . .?" Harry's voice trailed off.
Draco snorted softly.
"Malfoys don't care about anyone but themselves. The bastard was probably wishing it were him in my place," he said.
Harry's eyes widened slightly.
"Y-you mean he . . . your father actually l-l-likes V-?" he seemed unable to go on.
Draco shrugged his shoulders in a non-committed manner.
"He's obsessed with him. He'd do anything for him. He moans his name at night when he's asleep. I'm pretty sure that he 'likes' him," the pale boy replied.
"What . . . what are they going to do to you?" Harry asked softly.
"What, you mean after this?" Draco asked, rattling his chains a bit.
Harry nodded.
Draco sighed.
"They'll probably have me in for a bit of good old torture - the muggle way, of course. It's always the muggle way . . ." he paused, looking thoughtful. "Knifes, daggers, broken glass . . . you name it, they've got it," he said, shaking his head.
"Draco . . ." Harry said, an expression of pain for the boy.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll be fine. I've survived it before, so why should this time be any different?" the fair-haired boy said lightly, although his eyes looked dead as he spoke.
"Draco . . . I . . . I don't know if I can apologise enough. It's . . . it's //all// my fault, I shouldn't have-" Harry started, but Draco cut across him.
"Oh, get over yourself, Harry. Not //everything// in this world is //your// fault. You flatter yourself too much," he said, giving him the trademark Malfoy smirk, despite the morbidness of the situation.
"When was the first time . . . that it . . . that it happened?" Harry asked gently.
Draco shrugged nonchalantly.
"Not sure. Probably summer after fifth year, I think," he ignored Harry's wide eyes. "That's when I became a Death Eaters, anyway. Youngest one in a century," Draco snorted. "Fat lot of good that did me. I mean, sure, I became a 'spy', but . . . it's not all it's made out to be you, know?"
Harry was just nodding wordlessly.
"Well, actually, you //don't// know, since you've never exactly been a spy for him, have you, well, anyway, that's probably enough about that subject since you've been captured and-"
"The summer after fifth year?" Harry asked, seemingly having not heard anything Draco said after that sentence.
Draco shrugged.
"Come on, Harry. I was fifteen. Anyway, it's not like it was my first time either. That was all the way back in second year," the blonde said. "What about you? When was your first time?"
"M-m-me?" Harry asked, briefly thinking how Draco could have had sex at such a young age, and also wondering when they had slipped into using each other's first names.
"Yeah, you. D'you anyone else round here?" Draco smirked.
Harry blushed slightly.
"Don't tell me you're still a virgin!" Draco grinned evilly.
"No, no, it's just that . . . well, my first time was . . . summer before seventh year." Harry said, briefly acknowledging how funny it was that he and Draco would probably be tortured in a few hours, and here they were, chatting about sex like old buddies. When they had hated each other just a few hours ago. Well, Harry hated //him//, more specifically.
"Come on, spill, Harry. Who was it with?" the blonde asked.
Harry squirmed slightly.
"You first," he said.
"Alright. Mine was with Damian. He's my fourth cousin three times removed by marriage, or something or other. Damn, he was sex on legs, with his dark blonde hair and blue eyes . . . I never regretted it, even though I was twelve and he was eighteen. So, Harry . . . who was your first time with?" Draco pressed on.
"It was, with, um . . . Ron," the Boy Who Lived said, looking embarrassed.
Draco's eyes widened.
"No way! You and Weasley? I always thought that you were 'more than just friends'!" he exclaimed with glee.
"It wasn't exactly like that. It's just . . . I was a virgin, and we were both curious about what it would be like with a boy, so . . . I guess you can say that the rest is history," Harry said.
"Damn. That's . . . well, I dunno what that is, but . . . not exactly the person I expected you to shag, Harry."
"Who d'you have expected me to shag then, Draco?"
"Well, if you want the honest truth . . ." Draco's voice was somewhat husky, and he leant in closer to Harry, so close that their noses were almost touching . . .
"Me." Draco whispered, and his lips met Harry's.
TBC.