Betrayals: Sweet Entrapment

Warnings: This fic contains slash...aka male/male relationships. If you don't like that stuff, feel free to leave, but don't come whining afterwards that you didn't know. For those who like it...enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter unfortunately.look to J.K.Rowling for that...and I'm not making money out of this, who'd pay for my crappy fics?!? Enough blabbing.on with the story!

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Harry turned the piece of parchment over in his hands. Who could have sent him such a thing? He read it again.



To Harry Potter

Meet me at nine o'clock in the Quidditch changing rooms. Come alone, I have something important to tell you. Do not be late.

It was unsigned, and Harry thought the script familiar, but wasn't sure whose it was. Could it be Oliver's? Perhaps he had something to tell him about the next quidditch game.

He frowned once more at the script. He'd seen it in Potions, he thought, on Snape's desk. Oh yes, a bunch of marked homeworks to be given out. But whose could it have been? He shrugged. He'd see who it was when he arrived.

---

He opened the door of the Quidditch changing room and entered hurriedly, closing the door before more of the cold outside air could sneak in. The room was dim - some moonlight filtered in but not enough to illuminate the vast room.

"Harry," came a low voice from the other end of the room. Harry squinted into the gloom, and made out a slight figure sitting down. He walked towards it, still not recognizing the silhouette. When he was still halfway across the huge hall - why a changing room needed to be so big was beyond him - the figure stepped into a patch of moonlight filtering in through the high windows. Harry gasped and stood stock still.

The figure was clothed in a silvery dress. The long dress was silver with a tinge of pink. There were two slits in the side, from which two pale, slender legs were visible. The person was barefoot. Harry's eyes traveled further up. The dress was sleeveless, but two pieces of shimmering cloth were wrapped around each upper forearm. Silver bracelets, necklaces and even anklets adorned the graceful figure freely. Even further up...and Harry saw pale hair, silvery blue eyes and elfin features staring at him, luscious lips slightly parted.

There was no doubt about it. Harry was looking at Draco Malfoy.

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"Malfoy?!?" Harry exploded. "What the hell...?!"

"Sshhhh," Malfoy whispered, pressing a manicured finger to his lips gently. "I don't want anyone to hear us."

"What the hell are you doing Malfoy?" Harry asked again, in a lower tone of voice. Malfoy smiled secretively.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time Harry," he whispered seductively, drawing a finger gently down Harry's cheek. Harry nearly pinched himself to see if he was awake. He'd never have imagined seeing Malfoy dressed up like this...

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry asked coldly, mentally shaking himself awake. Malfoy would never act like this unless he had a specific plan in mind.

"It's Draco, Harry, not Malfoy," Malfoy cocked a head sideways. "What's the matter? Don't you like this?" He had started drawing patterns on Harry's chest with his long nails. Harry had never before noticed how long they were. Almost like a cat's.

"Stop playing games Malfoy, and tell me what you want," Harry replied.

Malfoy drew back, tears glinting in his eyes. "I don't know what you mean," he whispered tearfully. "I'm not playing, Harry, please...hold me," he pleaded.

Harry stared at his arch-rival as if he'd gone mad - which, to all extents and purposes, it certainly seemed he had. Malfoy dressed like this? Almost crying? He had to admit though, Malfoy looked pretty stunning in that outfit, and it suddenly dawned on him how beautiful his arch-rival looked.

Harry shook his head. HE would not be gripped by the madness that had overtaken Draco! Since when was it Draco? his voice whispered accusingly. Whatever happened to just plain Malfoy?

He's calling me Harry too! Harry protested in his mind.

Yeah and he's all over you. Gonna return the favour?

Harry wondered if he was going mad. Talking to himself as well now? He was spared further thinking by Draco suddenly bursting into tears.

"I knew it!" Draco said savagely, blinking away tears. "You hate me!" He turned his back onto Harry. His shoulders were shaking slightly with his crying.

Hesitantly Harry reached out and put his hand on Draco's shoulders. Immediately the blond beauty turned and flung his arms around Harry, sobbing. Wondering what the hell he was doing, Harry put his arms around the slender boy, and patted his head, muttering vague words in a comforting tone.

Draco turned swimming silvery blue grey eyes on him, and Harry gulped. He'd never really realized how beautiful Draco's eyes were, and with Draco sprawled all over him, perhaps it wasn't such a good time to realize it.

"I love you," the blond said plaintively, and crushed his lips to Harry's. His head swimming, Harry tasted salty tears on Draco's demanding lips and found himself responding before he could think. The kiss quickly turned into a desperate need to explore each other's mouths, and Draco's feverishly searching tongue only enflamed Harry's sudden desire for Draco. When they finally broke apart, it was Harry who searched out Draco's lips first, Harry whose lust was taking control and was shoving his tongue down Draco's throat in an attempt to taste him better.

"Well done, son," Harry heard a dry voice say suddenly. Breaking away from the embrace, Harry looked up. One look around the room showed three cloaked figures standing over Harry and Draco - but they were no longer in the Quidditch changing rooms. On the contrary, they were in a vast, stone walled chamber, lit with a fire which sent shadows creeping and scurrying all over the walls.

Harry scrambled to his legs. "Who are you?" he asked, brandishing his wand. One of the cloaked figures laughed.

"Well well," the figure said in a familiar voice. "Spirited aren't we? But you might as well give up Potter, you're trapped." He pushing back his hood suddenly, and Harry saw with dismay that it was none other than Lucius Malfoy.

"Well done son. I always knew you could seduce anyone. You have it in you," he said, pride tingeing his voice. Draco stood up, pleasure evident in his face at carrying out his father's commands successfully.

"He was easy," he drawled casually. "He was practically eating out of my hand the moment he saw me like this." He turned to Harry again. "Am I sexy in this, Potter?"

"You are gonna be so dead when I get my hands on you," Harry hissed with hatred.

"You just had your hands on me, Potter. All over me, might I add," Draco smiled nastily. Harry raised his wand but before he could utter a word, he lost his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand went flying to Lucius Malfoy, who fingered it, eyes gleaming.

"Poor Potter, unarmed and defenceless. Not so pompous today, are we, boy?" Harry felt sick. Gods...here he was in a Death Eater's hands, all because of that *sick* bastard...why, oh *why* had he ever fallen for Draco...

"Why did you lead me in that charade, Malfoy?" Harry asked, hatred evident in his voice. "You could have just kidnapped me anywhere you wanted."

"Oh but Potter, this way I had so much fun playing with you," Draco sent a winning smile at Harry, a smile which turned Harry's insides into jelly and his quivering brain into a mass of furious lava. "And like this, no one will suspect me."

"Exactly. This way, Potter, if they get sniffers on your track they won't suspect us." Lucius Malfoy supplied, smoothing back his hair.

"Sniffers?"

"I'd forgotten how ill bred you were, Potter," Draco sighed tragically. "Sniffers are wizards who can feel strong emotions in a place after any event has happened. Had we captured you by force, they would have found a lingering sense of fear and loathing. This way," he grinned wickedly, "they will find only a strong sense of lust in there. Nothing to connect them to me, you or anything remotely close to this. As far as they know it could be any two students who let their passions get the best of them. So I'm safe."

"Planned this thing well haven't you?" Harry clenched his fists. Through gritted teeth he snarled, "Couldn't take me out honorably so tried to get rid of me underhandedly. Cowards." The two Malfoy's faces turned stone cold.

"It would do you good to remember, Potter," Lucius Malfoy said coldly, "that you are my prisoner. It would benefit you to stay quiet." Draco didn't waste words on niceties. He just lifted his hand and slapped Harry. Emerald fire blazed in Harry's eyes.

"Good work, son," Lucius nodded approvingly at Draco. "You can leave now. We'll take him for a stroll to see his new sleeping quarters." Draco sneered at Harry and left.

Harry watched him leave with a sense of relief and disappointment. On one hand, he was spared his sneering comments and jibes. On the other hand - it wasn't because he was so gorgeous, he told his mind firmly, but because he was the only connection to the world he knew - Hogwarts.

"And now," Lucius Malfoy sneered. "To business." Harry tried to ignore the growing sense of dread in his stomach and tried to face him bravely. But though his fear could be hidden, it could not be snuffed out.

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Lothlorien: Well what do you think so far? This is the first time I'm writing a fic and posting it before its finished, so I hope to be getting reviews and ideas and such! Think it's worth my continuing it?