A/N: The muses on this fic refuse to lighten up. Consequently, this story continues to be dark and unhappy and the rating has jumped a bit for this section to about NC-17. If you already have second thoughts about this fic, it might not be wise to continue further. Things get a bit brutal.
Thank you so very much to all of you who reviewed. Your continued support is immensely comforting. I would type individual thanks but I'm so tired, I can barely see as it is. If you are reading this right now, I love you.
Special thanks to Red Joker for all her nagging and the bit about chimes.
***
The Slytherin-Gryffindor match the next day was quite intense. One could practically see the sparks of animosity between the two houses. Harry looked grimly determined, his face pale yet resolute. Draco looked very princely on his broom, but there was a feral glint in his eye as he scanned the field. His eyes met Harry's across the field. Harry's gaze was troubled. Draco grinned wickedly and licked his lips slowly. Harry faltered and flew off. Draco gave chase. //That's it. Run, Potter. I'll catch you in the end.// Tonight's game would prove interesting.
***
Seamus was in the library trying to do his homework even though his hand shook so badly that he could barely hold the quill. The tension on the field extended to even here. The air was heavy with it. He let the quill fall from his fingers and gazed out the window, wondering if Draco had killed Harry yet.
He didn't need anyone to tell him that his actions yesterday were horribly wrong. Seeing the look of hurt that ravaged Draco's face when he had pinned Seamus against the wall made it worth it though. Seamus had exposed a nerve- a raw silver nerve that made the most beautiful sound when you struck it just right. He had played a symphony on that nerve. He could almost understand Draco's sadistic mindset now. It was a very intoxicating feeling to have that much control over someone, to know exactly which buttons to push. However he was sorry that he had hurt Harry. He could see it in the calm green eyes that met his across the breakfast table. He could sense it in the slight tremble in Harry's voice. He had been selfish. A realization dawned on him: Harry had been a virgin. And he had taken shameless advantage of him. "Finnigan, you stupid prick," he muttered under his breath. He should've known. It was so obvious. Harry blushed a delicate shade of pink whenever sex was mentioned, and Seamus had never connected, never thought...//Damn you. You deserve every bad thing that ever happened to you. When you die, you'll go straight to hell and don't you dare complain.//
His self-depreciating musings were interrupted by a simpering female voice. "Oh, Finnigan, why'd you have to sit in that chair? It'll have to be burnt now that you've defiled it with your...unnaturalness."
"You mean you've sat in this chair before?" He rose to face Pansy, nose wrinkling in a clear sign of distaste. "By all means, take it," he said, his voice a mockery of chivalry. "I want nothing that has been sullied by you."
"Right. That's so obvious when you're panting over my fiancé," she replied dryly.
"He's only marrying you because his father is making him," the Irish boy replied coolly. She laughed derisively.
"You believe that if it helps you sleep better at night. I'm fully confident that whatever Draco has with you is just a phase."
"A six-month phase?" Seamus inquired, his mouth curling up at the corners.
"You can't think it's anything more. Draco is a big boy. No one can make him do anything he doesn't want to, and if he didn't want this marriage, it wouldn't happen." She smiled and tossed her hair triumphantly.
"I don't believe you," Seamus said, licking his lips.
"I've got the ring to prove it."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"Are you Gryffindors really that dense? I hate to burst your bubble- no, wait. I absolutely love bursting your bubble. Draco loves me, not you. If he loved you, it would be your name on the wedding invitation, not mine. Oh, that reminds me."
She pulled a vanilla envelope out of her satchel and passed it to him. "Here you are." He took it, eyes filled with hatred. Slowly he opened the envelope. Gold letters reflected the light as they informed him that he had been "cordially invited to witness the union of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in holy matrimony." He was going to be violently ill. He could feel it building in his stomach.
"Is this your idea of a joke?" he asked, voice trembling.
"Life is a joke, Finnigan, and you are the punch line. But do say you'll be there. I want to see the look on your face when Draco rips your heart out of your chest." Seamus had always suspected that Pansy wasn't human, but now he was sure. He looked at her mutely, not daring a response, afraid of the lump in his throat that threatened to betray him. She chuckled darkly and moved to take the vacant seat. She hesitated, and, with an amused look at Seamus, chose another chair.
***
Harry leaned against the lockers in the Gryffindor locker rooms, the cool metal soothing his anxieties. Gryffindor had won, but Harry still had pre-game jitters. His match with Slytherin had barely begun. He wasn't sure what Draco was going to do to him. Draco might kill him or Draco might fuck him and then again Draco could do both. And Harry honestly didn't know which he would prefer.
"Potter." Harry whirled around to face an impossibly cool Draco, his face not in the least bit flushed from the exhaustive match. His eyes, however, still had that suppressed excitement that made Harry very, very afraid. Draco reached out and caressed his cheek. Harry sucked in a breath and Draco's touch made him tremble with fear and loathing and concentrated desire. Draco saw it flash in Harry's eyes and he smiled to himself. //Too easy.// Then he shook his head ever so slightly. With Harry nothing was ever too easy.
He brushed his lips against Harry's in a chaste kiss, smirking inwardly when the boy moaned in disappointment. Seamus did good work. The Boy Who Lived was on a pleasure high and would do anything to avoid coming down, including Malfoys.
"Let's get this straight: I don't love you. Potter, I don't even like you, but I want you. There will be no after-sex hugs, no whispered endearments, and when we are through, you will be more alone than you were before," Draco whispered, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of Harry's ear. "Do you understand?" No answer from Harry, who was finding the sensuous weight of Draco's body against his very distracting. Draco's hand cupped Harry's chin, forcing his glassy green eyes to meet Draco's hard metallic ones. "Do you understand me, Potter?"
"Yes," Harry replied in a voice that hardly sounded like his own. It was too far away, too throaty, too desperate for what Draco could give him. "Yes, I understand," he said in that voice that was his yet not his. Draco's lips curved into a very unwholesome smile.
"Good," the Slytherin replied.
***
"Chimes," Draco whispered softly, moving his hands down the length of Harry's body. //Nononno. Don't speak. Don't speak. Please don't. Don't remind me of where I'm not supposed to be. What I'm not supposed to be doing.//
"Chimes?" Harry asked breathlessly, arching up into his touch, not wanting to talk, just wanting the sensations to continue filtering through his veins, eating away at the gelatin swirls of his brain, eroding his pride, his morality. So wrong, feels so sweet, like candy. Spun sugar goodness on the tip of his greedy demanding tongue.
"You remind me of chimes." Draco's lips brushed over the exposed expanse of Harry's skin, the sound of silk on silk magnified. It filled the resoundingly silent room. Draco's hot tongue invaded Harry's navel, so agile. Teasing. He loved to tease Harry, to feel the ebb and flow of his passions. He pulled Harry onto his lap, his hardness pressed into the back of The Boy Who Made Such Beautiful Noises if You Only Knew Where to Suck and Lick and Bite.
"They make those sparkling noises." He nipped the back of Harry's neck cruelly. The dark-haired boy mewled softly. The blonde's tongue danced down his spine, making figure-eights among the vertebrae. His breath ghosted along the Gryffindor's spine as he made his way up again. Draco's teeth tugged at Harry's ear, gently at first, then viciously. A moan escaped Harry.
"But they're hollow inside." Draco's fingers played with Harry's nipples, pinching with the intent to bruise.
"Please." The word slipped from Harry's mouth unbidden. The Slytherin's lips moved down to the juncture where Harry's neck met his shoulder. He bit down, hard. Harry's hips shot forward.
"Please what?" Draco's voice was smooth, tempting, like silk hiding the loveliest present.
"Please, hurt me." The plea surprised Harry as much as it surprised Draco. The rest of the sentence continued in Harry's head. //Because then the pain inside will be less compared to the pain outside.//
"Hurt you? Why would I do that, my precious?" Mockery in that honey sweet voice.
"You want to."
"I'm positively *pained* that you would say such a thing," Draco replied, knowing that it was completely true. He moved his hips forward at the word 'pained', making Harry bite his lip.
"It's true," the tanned boy protested, tilting his neck to the side, inviting Draco. He took the invitation.
"Even if you were right," Harry felt the curve of Draco's smile against his neck, "why should I?" Draco's hands reached between Harry's thighs. The Gryffindor hissed softly as his rival's hands moved past his aching desire, brushing it lightly. Draco's nails raked intricate patterns lazily across Harry's flesh. Harry didn't give an answer and Draco didn't wait long for one. He slammed into Harry, no preparation, no warning. The cries were torn from Harry's throat and left homeless in the air. Pleasure laced with pain, a poisoned delicacy that he swallowed willingly.
"Is this what you wanted?" Draco asked quietly, struggling to keep his voice even.
"Yes," Harry replied, tears streaming down his cheeks silently. Draco was still. "Move," Harry whispered. Draco gave an unseen nod and began to thrust, slowly, building speed. He pressed his lips to Harry's shoulder, letting loose the pent-up frustration of losing to Harry over and over again. His teeth drove into Harry's shoulder, drawing blood.
The next moment was a blur and Draco found himself on his back with Harry on top of him, breathing hard. Harry's flushed cheek pressed into the surprisingly cool skin of Draco's neck. His hand moved lower as he remembered Seamus's instructions from the day before.
"Never do that again," Harry growled, nipping at Draco's neck and thrusting inside him at the same time. Draco groaned at this double-edged attack from Harry, however having had the benefit of preparation that was denied to Harry, his groan was more from surprise than actual pain. He recovered partially, lapping at Harry's wound. Harry hissed.
"You are a sick, twisted fuck, you know that Malfoy?" he said, closing his eyes.
"I would've thought the 'fuck' was rather obvious. Trust you to feel a need to state it. Secondly, you have a lot of nerve calling me twisted. I wasn't the one begging to be hurt," Draco gasped, pulling Harry closer to him.
"No, I suppose not."
"Potter?"
"H'mm?"
"I'm not going to break if you do this with a little more force."
"Pity," Harry said, complying with Draco's request. The blonde arched his back and most likely would've bitten Harry again if Harry hadn't been smart enough to move his neck and shoulders out of the range of those sharp white teeth. But Draco still had nails.
"God damn you, Draco Malfoy!"
"Likewise, Potter," Draco chuckled.
"You fucking animal! I'm going to have scars from you for the rest of my life!" Harry cried, outraged.
"I hope so," Draco replied, grabbing Harry's hair and yanking him down into a rough kiss.
"Sadistic much, Malfoy?"
"Mmm, just a tad. Oh, God, yes. Do that again." Harry repeated his previous action, pinning the Slytherin's hands to his sides. Draco writhed desperately beneath Harry's grasp.
"No fair," he mewled softly. Harry laughed darkly.
"You're one to talk about fair," he said, bending down and sucking hard on the alabaster skin of Draco's torso. Draco fought to get free, but failing miserably, settled instead for a menacing growl.
"Finish what you've started before I finish it for you," he threatened. Harry grinned cheekily, but pounded Draco mercilessly until they were both shaking with the aftershocks of a hard-earned climax.
Draco grabbed Harry's face and kissed him painfully. Harry kissed him back, surprised and both immensely relieved and incredibly sorry that their little rendezvous was over. Gracefully, without betraying his soreness, Draco rose and slipped into his clothes. "I want a rematch," he said coolly. Harry pulled on his pants.
"I can take you," he replied, unruffled.
"No, I'll do the taking, thank you very much," the blond boy said. Harry fervently hoped so.
***
I sincerely hope this was worth the wait, dears. This story requires so much effort on my part that sometimes I simply can't write it. Comments, as always, would be very much appreciated.
Love,
J. Silver
Thank you so very much to all of you who reviewed. Your continued support is immensely comforting. I would type individual thanks but I'm so tired, I can barely see as it is. If you are reading this right now, I love you.
Special thanks to Red Joker for all her nagging and the bit about chimes.
***
The Slytherin-Gryffindor match the next day was quite intense. One could practically see the sparks of animosity between the two houses. Harry looked grimly determined, his face pale yet resolute. Draco looked very princely on his broom, but there was a feral glint in his eye as he scanned the field. His eyes met Harry's across the field. Harry's gaze was troubled. Draco grinned wickedly and licked his lips slowly. Harry faltered and flew off. Draco gave chase. //That's it. Run, Potter. I'll catch you in the end.// Tonight's game would prove interesting.
***
Seamus was in the library trying to do his homework even though his hand shook so badly that he could barely hold the quill. The tension on the field extended to even here. The air was heavy with it. He let the quill fall from his fingers and gazed out the window, wondering if Draco had killed Harry yet.
He didn't need anyone to tell him that his actions yesterday were horribly wrong. Seeing the look of hurt that ravaged Draco's face when he had pinned Seamus against the wall made it worth it though. Seamus had exposed a nerve- a raw silver nerve that made the most beautiful sound when you struck it just right. He had played a symphony on that nerve. He could almost understand Draco's sadistic mindset now. It was a very intoxicating feeling to have that much control over someone, to know exactly which buttons to push. However he was sorry that he had hurt Harry. He could see it in the calm green eyes that met his across the breakfast table. He could sense it in the slight tremble in Harry's voice. He had been selfish. A realization dawned on him: Harry had been a virgin. And he had taken shameless advantage of him. "Finnigan, you stupid prick," he muttered under his breath. He should've known. It was so obvious. Harry blushed a delicate shade of pink whenever sex was mentioned, and Seamus had never connected, never thought...//Damn you. You deserve every bad thing that ever happened to you. When you die, you'll go straight to hell and don't you dare complain.//
His self-depreciating musings were interrupted by a simpering female voice. "Oh, Finnigan, why'd you have to sit in that chair? It'll have to be burnt now that you've defiled it with your...unnaturalness."
"You mean you've sat in this chair before?" He rose to face Pansy, nose wrinkling in a clear sign of distaste. "By all means, take it," he said, his voice a mockery of chivalry. "I want nothing that has been sullied by you."
"Right. That's so obvious when you're panting over my fiancé," she replied dryly.
"He's only marrying you because his father is making him," the Irish boy replied coolly. She laughed derisively.
"You believe that if it helps you sleep better at night. I'm fully confident that whatever Draco has with you is just a phase."
"A six-month phase?" Seamus inquired, his mouth curling up at the corners.
"You can't think it's anything more. Draco is a big boy. No one can make him do anything he doesn't want to, and if he didn't want this marriage, it wouldn't happen." She smiled and tossed her hair triumphantly.
"I don't believe you," Seamus said, licking his lips.
"I've got the ring to prove it."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"Are you Gryffindors really that dense? I hate to burst your bubble- no, wait. I absolutely love bursting your bubble. Draco loves me, not you. If he loved you, it would be your name on the wedding invitation, not mine. Oh, that reminds me."
She pulled a vanilla envelope out of her satchel and passed it to him. "Here you are." He took it, eyes filled with hatred. Slowly he opened the envelope. Gold letters reflected the light as they informed him that he had been "cordially invited to witness the union of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson in holy matrimony." He was going to be violently ill. He could feel it building in his stomach.
"Is this your idea of a joke?" he asked, voice trembling.
"Life is a joke, Finnigan, and you are the punch line. But do say you'll be there. I want to see the look on your face when Draco rips your heart out of your chest." Seamus had always suspected that Pansy wasn't human, but now he was sure. He looked at her mutely, not daring a response, afraid of the lump in his throat that threatened to betray him. She chuckled darkly and moved to take the vacant seat. She hesitated, and, with an amused look at Seamus, chose another chair.
***
Harry leaned against the lockers in the Gryffindor locker rooms, the cool metal soothing his anxieties. Gryffindor had won, but Harry still had pre-game jitters. His match with Slytherin had barely begun. He wasn't sure what Draco was going to do to him. Draco might kill him or Draco might fuck him and then again Draco could do both. And Harry honestly didn't know which he would prefer.
"Potter." Harry whirled around to face an impossibly cool Draco, his face not in the least bit flushed from the exhaustive match. His eyes, however, still had that suppressed excitement that made Harry very, very afraid. Draco reached out and caressed his cheek. Harry sucked in a breath and Draco's touch made him tremble with fear and loathing and concentrated desire. Draco saw it flash in Harry's eyes and he smiled to himself. //Too easy.// Then he shook his head ever so slightly. With Harry nothing was ever too easy.
He brushed his lips against Harry's in a chaste kiss, smirking inwardly when the boy moaned in disappointment. Seamus did good work. The Boy Who Lived was on a pleasure high and would do anything to avoid coming down, including Malfoys.
"Let's get this straight: I don't love you. Potter, I don't even like you, but I want you. There will be no after-sex hugs, no whispered endearments, and when we are through, you will be more alone than you were before," Draco whispered, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of Harry's ear. "Do you understand?" No answer from Harry, who was finding the sensuous weight of Draco's body against his very distracting. Draco's hand cupped Harry's chin, forcing his glassy green eyes to meet Draco's hard metallic ones. "Do you understand me, Potter?"
"Yes," Harry replied in a voice that hardly sounded like his own. It was too far away, too throaty, too desperate for what Draco could give him. "Yes, I understand," he said in that voice that was his yet not his. Draco's lips curved into a very unwholesome smile.
"Good," the Slytherin replied.
***
"Chimes," Draco whispered softly, moving his hands down the length of Harry's body. //Nononno. Don't speak. Don't speak. Please don't. Don't remind me of where I'm not supposed to be. What I'm not supposed to be doing.//
"Chimes?" Harry asked breathlessly, arching up into his touch, not wanting to talk, just wanting the sensations to continue filtering through his veins, eating away at the gelatin swirls of his brain, eroding his pride, his morality. So wrong, feels so sweet, like candy. Spun sugar goodness on the tip of his greedy demanding tongue.
"You remind me of chimes." Draco's lips brushed over the exposed expanse of Harry's skin, the sound of silk on silk magnified. It filled the resoundingly silent room. Draco's hot tongue invaded Harry's navel, so agile. Teasing. He loved to tease Harry, to feel the ebb and flow of his passions. He pulled Harry onto his lap, his hardness pressed into the back of The Boy Who Made Such Beautiful Noises if You Only Knew Where to Suck and Lick and Bite.
"They make those sparkling noises." He nipped the back of Harry's neck cruelly. The dark-haired boy mewled softly. The blonde's tongue danced down his spine, making figure-eights among the vertebrae. His breath ghosted along the Gryffindor's spine as he made his way up again. Draco's teeth tugged at Harry's ear, gently at first, then viciously. A moan escaped Harry.
"But they're hollow inside." Draco's fingers played with Harry's nipples, pinching with the intent to bruise.
"Please." The word slipped from Harry's mouth unbidden. The Slytherin's lips moved down to the juncture where Harry's neck met his shoulder. He bit down, hard. Harry's hips shot forward.
"Please what?" Draco's voice was smooth, tempting, like silk hiding the loveliest present.
"Please, hurt me." The plea surprised Harry as much as it surprised Draco. The rest of the sentence continued in Harry's head. //Because then the pain inside will be less compared to the pain outside.//
"Hurt you? Why would I do that, my precious?" Mockery in that honey sweet voice.
"You want to."
"I'm positively *pained* that you would say such a thing," Draco replied, knowing that it was completely true. He moved his hips forward at the word 'pained', making Harry bite his lip.
"It's true," the tanned boy protested, tilting his neck to the side, inviting Draco. He took the invitation.
"Even if you were right," Harry felt the curve of Draco's smile against his neck, "why should I?" Draco's hands reached between Harry's thighs. The Gryffindor hissed softly as his rival's hands moved past his aching desire, brushing it lightly. Draco's nails raked intricate patterns lazily across Harry's flesh. Harry didn't give an answer and Draco didn't wait long for one. He slammed into Harry, no preparation, no warning. The cries were torn from Harry's throat and left homeless in the air. Pleasure laced with pain, a poisoned delicacy that he swallowed willingly.
"Is this what you wanted?" Draco asked quietly, struggling to keep his voice even.
"Yes," Harry replied, tears streaming down his cheeks silently. Draco was still. "Move," Harry whispered. Draco gave an unseen nod and began to thrust, slowly, building speed. He pressed his lips to Harry's shoulder, letting loose the pent-up frustration of losing to Harry over and over again. His teeth drove into Harry's shoulder, drawing blood.
The next moment was a blur and Draco found himself on his back with Harry on top of him, breathing hard. Harry's flushed cheek pressed into the surprisingly cool skin of Draco's neck. His hand moved lower as he remembered Seamus's instructions from the day before.
"Never do that again," Harry growled, nipping at Draco's neck and thrusting inside him at the same time. Draco groaned at this double-edged attack from Harry, however having had the benefit of preparation that was denied to Harry, his groan was more from surprise than actual pain. He recovered partially, lapping at Harry's wound. Harry hissed.
"You are a sick, twisted fuck, you know that Malfoy?" he said, closing his eyes.
"I would've thought the 'fuck' was rather obvious. Trust you to feel a need to state it. Secondly, you have a lot of nerve calling me twisted. I wasn't the one begging to be hurt," Draco gasped, pulling Harry closer to him.
"No, I suppose not."
"Potter?"
"H'mm?"
"I'm not going to break if you do this with a little more force."
"Pity," Harry said, complying with Draco's request. The blonde arched his back and most likely would've bitten Harry again if Harry hadn't been smart enough to move his neck and shoulders out of the range of those sharp white teeth. But Draco still had nails.
"God damn you, Draco Malfoy!"
"Likewise, Potter," Draco chuckled.
"You fucking animal! I'm going to have scars from you for the rest of my life!" Harry cried, outraged.
"I hope so," Draco replied, grabbing Harry's hair and yanking him down into a rough kiss.
"Sadistic much, Malfoy?"
"Mmm, just a tad. Oh, God, yes. Do that again." Harry repeated his previous action, pinning the Slytherin's hands to his sides. Draco writhed desperately beneath Harry's grasp.
"No fair," he mewled softly. Harry laughed darkly.
"You're one to talk about fair," he said, bending down and sucking hard on the alabaster skin of Draco's torso. Draco fought to get free, but failing miserably, settled instead for a menacing growl.
"Finish what you've started before I finish it for you," he threatened. Harry grinned cheekily, but pounded Draco mercilessly until they were both shaking with the aftershocks of a hard-earned climax.
Draco grabbed Harry's face and kissed him painfully. Harry kissed him back, surprised and both immensely relieved and incredibly sorry that their little rendezvous was over. Gracefully, without betraying his soreness, Draco rose and slipped into his clothes. "I want a rematch," he said coolly. Harry pulled on his pants.
"I can take you," he replied, unruffled.
"No, I'll do the taking, thank you very much," the blond boy said. Harry fervently hoped so.
***
I sincerely hope this was worth the wait, dears. This story requires so much effort on my part that sometimes I simply can't write it. Comments, as always, would be very much appreciated.
Love,
J. Silver