Disclaimer: All characters are J.K. Rowling's. I never thought I'd write
anything remotely resembling Harry Potter fics.I was wrong. The song is
Linkin Park's- Easier to Run. Since I heard it it was begging for me to
write this and I finally had the time and the plot. There are sequels,
too. Oh, yes.
NOTE: This story contains some material more suited for an older age group. That's why it's rated R. If homosexual relationships offend you in any way, hit the back button and don't bother reading this or the sequels. If rape does the same, I suggest you stop. This is my first attempt at anything like this, so please be a little kind?
Harry's POV
Run
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
When I got my letter telling me that I had been accepted to a school I had never heard of and was introduced to a world I had never known, it was surreal. The whole experience gave me a new life. It gave me something to strive for. I made friends who helped guide me through this new world and deal with these new things. I never had friends before, but I would give all of it up to go back to how things used to be; how I used to be.
Something has been taken
From deep inside of me
A secret I've kept locked away
No one can ever see
Wounds so deep they never show
They never go away
Like moving pictures in my head
For years and years they've played
Draco Malfoy. The name alone used to send shivers down my spine. All the stories I had heard about him made me think that he was going to be some blood-sucking demon bent on destroying the world. Boy, was I ever wrong. He was gorgeous, ethereal even, with his pale hair, mercury-colored eyes, and willowy form. I didn't know who he was when I first spoke to him in Madam Malkin's, but he knew me and he made it a point to speak to me again at Hogwarts. His words there stung with their malicious undertone and I tried to throw it right back at him, but I wasn't harsh enough for my vindictive side's liking. Something in his eyes stopped me from hurling razor-sharp daggers at him. Instead I unconsciously blunted all of my words. Ron and Hermione didn't understand. They hate him more than I could say. They said it pretty eloquently, however, when I told them that Draco and I were seeing each other. When I told them that I was gay. Ron started yelling, really giving it to me while Hermione sat quietly, thinking to herself. They were both really tolerable about it later. They made a great effort to like him despite all that he had done. In turn, he was a little nicer to them. He wasn't really friendly or anything, but he didn't say things about them behind their backs. Or in front of their backs, like he used to. The mocking stopped and we actually had one or two good times together, albeit slightly uncomfortable. If they knew what had happened between Draco and me, though, Ron and Hermione would flip. They would literally kill Draco and it would all be my fault, just like everything else that Draco punished me for. I can still see it so clearly in my head, the first time he hit me. God, but it hurt. We were sitting out on the Quidditch field watching the stars wheel overhead. He brought a hand to my face, ran his fingers lightly across my cheek, following his hand with his eyes before turning them to mine. He leaned in and kissed me. I responded eagerly, never minding the taste of him on my lips, but when he reached down to my belt buckle I pulled away. 'What are you doing?' I asked him. I knew what he was doing, but I asked anyway. I wasn't ready to go that far. It had only been half a year, give or take a week. I was comfortable where we were, but Draco wanted more, apparently. 'I want you so badly, Harry.' He panted. His eyes were glassy. Something was wrong. 'I don't want to go that far yet.' I confessed. My eyes started filling with tears. I wanted to make Draco happy. I wanted to give him anything he wanted, but I wasn't ready to go that far, no matter how much my body yearned for his hands on my skin. Or his lips. Or any other part of him.
If I could change I would
Take back the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could
Stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame to the grave I would
'Don't you love me Harry? Don't you want this?' He took my hand and rested it on his chest, just over his heart, and then slid it down- his hip, his thigh- and then to the area between. My heart leapt and I gasped in shock. He was always more dominant than I was and I let him take that role gladly, but this was just a tasteless act brought on by lust, maybe something more. 'Draco, were you drinking again?' It wouldn't be the first time, but he had never gotten extremely drunk. I had never seen him like this before. That was when he hit me. After I asked that one question. His open palm connected with my cheek resounding in a hard smack and a stinging sensation. The mark was left on my cheek, a painful, pink reminder of that night. It faded quickly, but it still stings in my mind and I will always feel it. One tear rolled down my cheek in a fat drop. Draco didn't apologize. His gaze never softened. A hand never reached out to brush the salty drop away and more tears came. Draco snarled at me. He never snarled or had an unkind remark towards me anymore, yet here he was telling me to shut up and stop crying. Then I suppose something clicked over in his head and his eyes once again took on their warm silver color instead of the glassy steel they had just been. 'Harry?' he whispered. 'Harry, why are you crying? What happened?' He shifted closer and cupped my chin in his hand, tilting my head up so that my eyes would meet his. I flinched away instinctively, cowered like a wounded puppy. Draco looked so hurt. Tears came to his eyes, too, and I crawled closer. Reaching out tentatively I brushed away the lone tear staining his cheek. He smiled and opened his arms and I crawled closer, falling against him and letting him hold me up.
Sometimes I remember
The darkness of my past
Bringing back these memories
I with I didn't have
Sometimes I think of letting go
And never looking back
And never moving forward so
There would never be a past.
He doesn't even remember that happening. I never bring it up, and he doesn't ask, and that's the way it was for a long time. He never tried to make me do anything I didn't want to and we were happy. Then it happened again. He was a prefect and had a room to himself. That's where we were, lying on his bed, kissing, cuddling- that sort of thing. In the heat of passion, I suppose, he ran his hands down my body. I let him. I didn't mind, but then his hands found my belt again and just like last time, so many years ago, his eyes were glassy and he started to tug at it. I pushed his hand away murmuring that we shouldn't because someone might hear. It was a weak defense, I admit, but it was the best I could think of that wouldn't end in my physical pain. He told me nobody would hear anything because he had found a spell that muted sound. He had cast it on the room and I was trapped with no other defenses save one, so I used it. 'Draco, I don't want to yet.' There. I had been completely honest with him, and I still left the option open for the future. Surely that would satisfy him, but no. He raised a hand as if to strike me, but then lowered it along with his head. His hair fell across his face and I reached up to push it back. He grabbed my wrist with bruising strength. I winced and whimpered slightly, but Draco didn't let go. After these occurrences I was always reminded of a story I had read in school in the muggle world. There was a man named Dr. Jekyll who created a potion and turned into an ill-tempered man called Mr. Hyde. That was what Draco was now- Jekyll and Hyde. Draco straddled me on the bed, holding me down with his body's weight. I didn't struggle against it. It wouldn't have done me any good. Draco was stronger than me, and even if I did have the upper hand, it wouldn't be for long. Leaning close Draco inhaled deeply, moving up my neck and then placing a kiss on my lips. It wasn't a tender kiss, filled with passion. It was filled with dominance and possession and I hated it. Holding my wrists down with one hand Draco reached into the small table next to his bed. I turned my head, curiosity and fear causing a longing within me to know what he held. It was a length of black fabric; a silk scarf, I realized as he bound my wrists together and to one of the bedposts. I watched the smile on his face and the cruel, satisfied glint in his eyes as he now looked upon me lying submissively under him. Seated on my thighs he reached for my shirt and began undoing the buttons. His smile broadened at each inch of skin that was exposed as he drank in the sight of me with his eyes. I wondered why the fascination was so great now. He had seen me shirtless before. Perhaps it was because this Mr. Hyde side of him had never seen me like this before. I'll never know. After my shirt was off and tossed away Draco turned his attention to himself for a moment, shedding his own shirt and throwing it aside. 'Do you want me, Harry? Do you want me like I want you?' he purred at me. I wanted Draco. I wanted my soft, loving Draco more than anything, but this person wanting to make love to me was not the boy I had fallen in love with. This boy was colder and didn't care what my answer to his question was. He would take me no matter what. 'Draco, please don't do this to me.' I tried one more time. My answer was wrong. Draco hit me again, a loosely curled fist connecting with my cheekbone, sending splinters of pain through my head. I groaned and lay still. There would be a bruise there later, and a lie to go along with it. Ron and Hermione couldn't know; they never had and I doubted that they ever would. His lip curled in an angry sneer, Draco tore the rest of my clothes off. The sneer turned into a smile, and though the smile held none of the tenderness I was used to, a small portion of my mind relaxed. I guess Draco liked what he saw. Quit frankly, I liked what I saw when he finished ridding himself of clothes, but the enjoyment did not last, because I was soon reminded that I was at his mercy.
Leaning over me, Draco untied the silk scarves. 'Turn over.' And I did. His hands gripped my waist and hauled me up so that I was on my knees. He didn't bind my wrists again. He knew I wouldn't do anything in protest to his actions. Draco ran his hands over my back, placing kisses in their wake. It was actually almost like my loving Draco touching me, but I'll never be sure.
That was one of my last clear thoughts. He pushed a finger into me, stretching me. I tried squirming away out of instinct. It hurt so much, especially because he used nothing to ease his finger in except brute force. I guess my reaction pissed Draco off, because he was even rougher after that. His fingers left my body and were quickly replaced by his cock.
The pain.I've never felt anything like it. He rammed into me again and again. His other hand came around my waist to grasp my own growing erection. He was stroking me to full hardness, I was vaguely aware of that. I was also vaguely aware of when I spilled myself over Draco's hand. His release inside of me came moments later. He pulled out and let me drop onto his bed. I curled up, bruised and broken and too weak to move.
Draco was kind enough not to throw me out that night, but he didn't hold me or offer any comfort other than leaving me to my own disgrace. And he let me stay on the bed. I woke before he did and snatched my clothes off the floor. Rushing back to my dorm, I showered and slipped into bed. Ron and Hermione would be worried, but they probably guessed where I was and covered for me if anyone asked. However, they wouldn't know that what was going on would have wounded me so.
Just washing it aside
All of the helplessness inside
Pretending I don't feel misplaced
Is so much simpler than change
I acted like nothing had happened. Draco didn't, though. He sneered at me sometimes. We ignored each other more often than not. People wondered, there were quite a few who knew about us, but nobody had the guts to ask. And we never told; I never told. I have a feeling that Draco bragged sometimes. I think Crabbe and Goyle knew, and some other Slytherin's, because there was silent laughter in their eyes when they looked at me now. All around were mocking stares that I tried to hide from.
Ron and Hermione knew that something had happened. I told them that we had quarreled and decided to take time off. They didn't pursue the matter. They helped me try to keep things normal, like they had been before Draco and I started dating. But the pain will always linger. It can never be the same.
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Then face all this pain here all alone
When I got my letter telling me that I had been accepted to a school I had never heard of and was introduced to a world I had never known, it was surreal. The whole experience gave me a new life. It gave me something to strive for. I made friends who helped guide me through this new world and deal with these new things. I never had friends before, but I would give all of it up to go back to how things used to be; how I used to be.
NOTE: This story contains some material more suited for an older age group. That's why it's rated R. If homosexual relationships offend you in any way, hit the back button and don't bother reading this or the sequels. If rape does the same, I suggest you stop. This is my first attempt at anything like this, so please be a little kind?
Harry's POV
Run
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
When I got my letter telling me that I had been accepted to a school I had never heard of and was introduced to a world I had never known, it was surreal. The whole experience gave me a new life. It gave me something to strive for. I made friends who helped guide me through this new world and deal with these new things. I never had friends before, but I would give all of it up to go back to how things used to be; how I used to be.
Something has been taken
From deep inside of me
A secret I've kept locked away
No one can ever see
Wounds so deep they never show
They never go away
Like moving pictures in my head
For years and years they've played
Draco Malfoy. The name alone used to send shivers down my spine. All the stories I had heard about him made me think that he was going to be some blood-sucking demon bent on destroying the world. Boy, was I ever wrong. He was gorgeous, ethereal even, with his pale hair, mercury-colored eyes, and willowy form. I didn't know who he was when I first spoke to him in Madam Malkin's, but he knew me and he made it a point to speak to me again at Hogwarts. His words there stung with their malicious undertone and I tried to throw it right back at him, but I wasn't harsh enough for my vindictive side's liking. Something in his eyes stopped me from hurling razor-sharp daggers at him. Instead I unconsciously blunted all of my words. Ron and Hermione didn't understand. They hate him more than I could say. They said it pretty eloquently, however, when I told them that Draco and I were seeing each other. When I told them that I was gay. Ron started yelling, really giving it to me while Hermione sat quietly, thinking to herself. They were both really tolerable about it later. They made a great effort to like him despite all that he had done. In turn, he was a little nicer to them. He wasn't really friendly or anything, but he didn't say things about them behind their backs. Or in front of their backs, like he used to. The mocking stopped and we actually had one or two good times together, albeit slightly uncomfortable. If they knew what had happened between Draco and me, though, Ron and Hermione would flip. They would literally kill Draco and it would all be my fault, just like everything else that Draco punished me for. I can still see it so clearly in my head, the first time he hit me. God, but it hurt. We were sitting out on the Quidditch field watching the stars wheel overhead. He brought a hand to my face, ran his fingers lightly across my cheek, following his hand with his eyes before turning them to mine. He leaned in and kissed me. I responded eagerly, never minding the taste of him on my lips, but when he reached down to my belt buckle I pulled away. 'What are you doing?' I asked him. I knew what he was doing, but I asked anyway. I wasn't ready to go that far. It had only been half a year, give or take a week. I was comfortable where we were, but Draco wanted more, apparently. 'I want you so badly, Harry.' He panted. His eyes were glassy. Something was wrong. 'I don't want to go that far yet.' I confessed. My eyes started filling with tears. I wanted to make Draco happy. I wanted to give him anything he wanted, but I wasn't ready to go that far, no matter how much my body yearned for his hands on my skin. Or his lips. Or any other part of him.
If I could change I would
Take back the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could
Stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame to the grave I would
'Don't you love me Harry? Don't you want this?' He took my hand and rested it on his chest, just over his heart, and then slid it down- his hip, his thigh- and then to the area between. My heart leapt and I gasped in shock. He was always more dominant than I was and I let him take that role gladly, but this was just a tasteless act brought on by lust, maybe something more. 'Draco, were you drinking again?' It wouldn't be the first time, but he had never gotten extremely drunk. I had never seen him like this before. That was when he hit me. After I asked that one question. His open palm connected with my cheek resounding in a hard smack and a stinging sensation. The mark was left on my cheek, a painful, pink reminder of that night. It faded quickly, but it still stings in my mind and I will always feel it. One tear rolled down my cheek in a fat drop. Draco didn't apologize. His gaze never softened. A hand never reached out to brush the salty drop away and more tears came. Draco snarled at me. He never snarled or had an unkind remark towards me anymore, yet here he was telling me to shut up and stop crying. Then I suppose something clicked over in his head and his eyes once again took on their warm silver color instead of the glassy steel they had just been. 'Harry?' he whispered. 'Harry, why are you crying? What happened?' He shifted closer and cupped my chin in his hand, tilting my head up so that my eyes would meet his. I flinched away instinctively, cowered like a wounded puppy. Draco looked so hurt. Tears came to his eyes, too, and I crawled closer. Reaching out tentatively I brushed away the lone tear staining his cheek. He smiled and opened his arms and I crawled closer, falling against him and letting him hold me up.
Sometimes I remember
The darkness of my past
Bringing back these memories
I with I didn't have
Sometimes I think of letting go
And never looking back
And never moving forward so
There would never be a past.
He doesn't even remember that happening. I never bring it up, and he doesn't ask, and that's the way it was for a long time. He never tried to make me do anything I didn't want to and we were happy. Then it happened again. He was a prefect and had a room to himself. That's where we were, lying on his bed, kissing, cuddling- that sort of thing. In the heat of passion, I suppose, he ran his hands down my body. I let him. I didn't mind, but then his hands found my belt again and just like last time, so many years ago, his eyes were glassy and he started to tug at it. I pushed his hand away murmuring that we shouldn't because someone might hear. It was a weak defense, I admit, but it was the best I could think of that wouldn't end in my physical pain. He told me nobody would hear anything because he had found a spell that muted sound. He had cast it on the room and I was trapped with no other defenses save one, so I used it. 'Draco, I don't want to yet.' There. I had been completely honest with him, and I still left the option open for the future. Surely that would satisfy him, but no. He raised a hand as if to strike me, but then lowered it along with his head. His hair fell across his face and I reached up to push it back. He grabbed my wrist with bruising strength. I winced and whimpered slightly, but Draco didn't let go. After these occurrences I was always reminded of a story I had read in school in the muggle world. There was a man named Dr. Jekyll who created a potion and turned into an ill-tempered man called Mr. Hyde. That was what Draco was now- Jekyll and Hyde. Draco straddled me on the bed, holding me down with his body's weight. I didn't struggle against it. It wouldn't have done me any good. Draco was stronger than me, and even if I did have the upper hand, it wouldn't be for long. Leaning close Draco inhaled deeply, moving up my neck and then placing a kiss on my lips. It wasn't a tender kiss, filled with passion. It was filled with dominance and possession and I hated it. Holding my wrists down with one hand Draco reached into the small table next to his bed. I turned my head, curiosity and fear causing a longing within me to know what he held. It was a length of black fabric; a silk scarf, I realized as he bound my wrists together and to one of the bedposts. I watched the smile on his face and the cruel, satisfied glint in his eyes as he now looked upon me lying submissively under him. Seated on my thighs he reached for my shirt and began undoing the buttons. His smile broadened at each inch of skin that was exposed as he drank in the sight of me with his eyes. I wondered why the fascination was so great now. He had seen me shirtless before. Perhaps it was because this Mr. Hyde side of him had never seen me like this before. I'll never know. After my shirt was off and tossed away Draco turned his attention to himself for a moment, shedding his own shirt and throwing it aside. 'Do you want me, Harry? Do you want me like I want you?' he purred at me. I wanted Draco. I wanted my soft, loving Draco more than anything, but this person wanting to make love to me was not the boy I had fallen in love with. This boy was colder and didn't care what my answer to his question was. He would take me no matter what. 'Draco, please don't do this to me.' I tried one more time. My answer was wrong. Draco hit me again, a loosely curled fist connecting with my cheekbone, sending splinters of pain through my head. I groaned and lay still. There would be a bruise there later, and a lie to go along with it. Ron and Hermione couldn't know; they never had and I doubted that they ever would. His lip curled in an angry sneer, Draco tore the rest of my clothes off. The sneer turned into a smile, and though the smile held none of the tenderness I was used to, a small portion of my mind relaxed. I guess Draco liked what he saw. Quit frankly, I liked what I saw when he finished ridding himself of clothes, but the enjoyment did not last, because I was soon reminded that I was at his mercy.
Leaning over me, Draco untied the silk scarves. 'Turn over.' And I did. His hands gripped my waist and hauled me up so that I was on my knees. He didn't bind my wrists again. He knew I wouldn't do anything in protest to his actions. Draco ran his hands over my back, placing kisses in their wake. It was actually almost like my loving Draco touching me, but I'll never be sure.
That was one of my last clear thoughts. He pushed a finger into me, stretching me. I tried squirming away out of instinct. It hurt so much, especially because he used nothing to ease his finger in except brute force. I guess my reaction pissed Draco off, because he was even rougher after that. His fingers left my body and were quickly replaced by his cock.
The pain.I've never felt anything like it. He rammed into me again and again. His other hand came around my waist to grasp my own growing erection. He was stroking me to full hardness, I was vaguely aware of that. I was also vaguely aware of when I spilled myself over Draco's hand. His release inside of me came moments later. He pulled out and let me drop onto his bed. I curled up, bruised and broken and too weak to move.
Draco was kind enough not to throw me out that night, but he didn't hold me or offer any comfort other than leaving me to my own disgrace. And he let me stay on the bed. I woke before he did and snatched my clothes off the floor. Rushing back to my dorm, I showered and slipped into bed. Ron and Hermione would be worried, but they probably guessed where I was and covered for me if anyone asked. However, they wouldn't know that what was going on would have wounded me so.
Just washing it aside
All of the helplessness inside
Pretending I don't feel misplaced
Is so much simpler than change
I acted like nothing had happened. Draco didn't, though. He sneered at me sometimes. We ignored each other more often than not. People wondered, there were quite a few who knew about us, but nobody had the guts to ask. And we never told; I never told. I have a feeling that Draco bragged sometimes. I think Crabbe and Goyle knew, and some other Slytherin's, because there was silent laughter in their eyes when they looked at me now. All around were mocking stares that I tried to hide from.
Ron and Hermione knew that something had happened. I told them that we had quarreled and decided to take time off. They didn't pursue the matter. They helped me try to keep things normal, like they had been before Draco and I started dating. But the pain will always linger. It can never be the same.
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Then face all this pain here all alone
When I got my letter telling me that I had been accepted to a school I had never heard of and was introduced to a world I had never known, it was surreal. The whole experience gave me a new life. It gave me something to strive for. I made friends who helped guide me through this new world and deal with these new things. I never had friends before, but I would give all of it up to go back to how things used to be; how I used to be.