In You

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Ms. J.K.Rowling.

Chapter Three

WARNING: This chapter contains extreme abuse/violent material. Please don't read if you're not comfortable with non-con situations.

….

Harry couldn't breathe; he'd forgotten how to, he didn't know what to do, didn't know what to do, didn'tknowwhattodo. He was so afraid he was going to be sick but he shut his eyes very tight and breathed sharp and thin between his teeth and then felt himself being turned around, slowly around.

The hand didn't leave Harry's shoulder, but he tripped back unconsciously against the wall, shoulder hitting hard against the brick. It took everything he could to raise his eyes and see who the fuck it was.

Please don't let it be him, oh please don't let it be him, anyone any one but him…

It wasn't Professor Snape.

And it wasn't a teacher. Harry's breath let out in a little hiss of horror.

It was Blaise Zabini, mouth split open into a wide, horrible smile. He was still in his day robes, the sleeves rolled up his large, muscular forearms and his tie was undone, hanging limp around his thick neck, which made Harry's stomach tighten nervously for some reason he couldn't place.

"Well look who it is… wondering around on the other side of the castle in the middle of the night. It's a strange thing Mr. Potter, for a Gryffindor to be up at this hour and on our side of the castle."

Harry didn't say anything. He wished Blaise would take his meaty hand off his shoulder. He clenched his teeth and looked resolutely past Blaise's head, into the flickering darkness past the torch lights.

"I think you owe me an explanation Mr. Potter, especially since it's so very late and all."

Harry said nothing, he felt Blaise's fingers fisting softly in the fabric of his sweater. He fought the urge to twist violently away and backed harder against the wall.

"Not going to answer? Well maybe I can help you out then. It just so happens that I heard what you said when you were uh… embracing that door." His lips curled around the word with unmistakable derision. Harry felt his cheeks burn with shame. "Something about a particular Potions Master?"

Harry's eyes went wide with horror and nothing he could have done, could have kept Blaise from seeing the burn of emotion in response to that statement. His legs started shaking and his mouth fell open a little bit in a sort-of resigned melancholy, his eyes turning up towards the ceiling, suddenly the color of hot poison and despair.

"So… Harry Potter has a crush; yet how surprising, his own Professor. Who could have guessed it? And the one who hates him the most at that. The only person in the school who isn't groveling all over little Harry Potter, he falls in love with." Blaise let out a loud, barking laugh and Harry seized the opportunity to wrench his shoulder out of Blaise's grip. He hated that despite his size Blaise was so intelligent. Why couldn't he be like Dudley and lack brain where he had muscle tissue? Why oh why oh why oh-

"It's ridiculous to me Potter, but then again, you always were." He stepped closer in towards Harry and leant forward slightly, lips like acid in a sneer. There was dark triumph in his eyes; Harry felt sick.

Harry slid a little down the wall, stones rippling against his shoulder blades. He swallowed back panic, if he didn't do something now he would be utterly trapped. He had to try something.

He screwed up his eyes in anger and lifted himself off the wall, trying to raise himself the extra six inches to Blaise's face. "So what? What's it to you? What do you want?"

"I don't want anything Potter. What interests me is the fact that you seem to want something very badly."

Harry's felt like the odd colors from the torches nearby were melting, he felt feverish, his world was blurring. "I don't know what you're talking about," he ground out.

"Oh, but I think you know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Blaise replied coldly, leaning forward to place one hand on the tile by Harry's head.

Harry slid a little more to the left, shoulders drawn tight around his arms. His teeth were closed very tight. "Look Blaise, I don't know what you want but how bout you just leave me the fuck alone?"

Blaise let out an icy breath, "Ooh, temper, temper Potter. That will never do; nothing was ever solved in anger, you of all people should know that." He grinned wickedly, teeth very white and large and even.

Harry felt a shudder of sickness go through him and he decided this was it. He'd had enough. Cheeks dark with anger he dipped under Blaise's thick arm and started to sprint away down the hall.

"Ah, ah, ah." Blaise was faster than he looked. Harry forgot that he had played chaser for four years on the Slytherin House Team, before he'd been thrown off for biting someone during a match, and for another time when a Hufflepuff had hit him particularly hard with a Bludger and Blaise had gone mad with anger, chased the boy down and beaten him with his own stick until he was unconscious.

He caught Harry's wrist easily in his, before Harry had gone two steps, and squeezed. "Not so fast Potter."

Harry let out a shout of protest. "Let me go!" he cried, and tried desperately to twist his wrist away. "Don't touch me!"

Blaise smiled unpleasantly. He pulled on Harry's wrist, and Harry, caught at a violently unpleasant angle, was forced to slide two steps closer to Blaise, body bent awkwardly to escape the pain.

"This is quite an unpleasant situation in which we find ourselves. Think for a moment of how I must feel: presented with such a fascinating bit of information. Think of the pressures this new state of consciousness poses upon me. Should I tell the Headmaster? I suppose you would entreat me not to, and yet, it is already weighing heavily on my conscience. The guilt, I fear is more than I can bear. Or maybe, an easier solution yet—go directly to the Potions Master himself. I feel he would find this piece of information ever so valuable don't you agree?"

Harry shook his head soundlessly eyes welled up with pain. "Please don't tell…" he breathed. "Oh please,"

Blaise paused to look thoughtful, but didn't loosen his grip on Harry's wrist. "Yes, you say that to me Potter and yet I must ask myself the fatal question, why? Why shouldn't I tell? How is this situation going to do me any good except cause unneeded stress?"

Harry's eyes were stinging with tears of pain and his mouth was open, breath coming sharp in short gasps. "Please- just -don't tell."

Blaise sighed despairingly. "Again, Potter, I'm afraid that isn't going to be enough. What I mean to say rather is, what's in it for me?"

Harry's teeth were gritted, molars grinding and he shut his eyes in agony. "I'll do anything you say, just please please please please don't tell."

Blaise's face lit up in a sinister grin, and he let go of Harry's wrist. "Brilliant, just smashing Potter, I knew you'd be up for it."

Harry dropped to one knee, breath coming loose from his lungs with relief. There were black spots rippling on the corners of his vision.

Blaise dropped down in front of Harry, mimicking his pose on one knee. He was grinning now, unstoppably. He put his hand under Harry's chin and forced Harry's eyes up to lock with his. "I've been missing something Potter for a long time, missing someone who'll do what they're told, who'll give me what I want, when I want it. It looks like luck is in my favor Potter, and you're just the thing for the job."

Harry had slid down to both his knees, breaking eye contact with Blaise. He sat on his shaking legs and wouldn't look Blaise in the eye. Blaise had him where the wall curved, so he was cornered by an edge of stone; he couldn't get away.

Blaise took Harry's jaw in his hand again. Harry pulled back slightly, but Blaise clamped tighter, fingers digging into the pressure points on either side, forcing Harry's mouth open slightly. Harry risked a look up and saw Blaise's smile, more veiled now, his eyes low-lidded with some sick delight. There was a slight darkness in his cheeks.

Harry tried to close his mouth, leaned back a little to twist away.

"Open your mouth Potter."

Harry wouldn't.

"I said open your fucking mouth Potter!" Blaise hit him across the face.

Harry let out a gasp of pain; he felt his lip split open. He sat absolutely still, stunned and tasted blood around his teeth. Tears began to drip down his hot cheeks without a sound.

"Let's just make sure things are very, very clear. Rules: You will do what I want, when I say I want it and ask no questions. If you mention this to anyone, your secret's out. You're done, Snape knows. Got me?"

Harry didn't move.

"I said you got me?"

Blaise raised his hand; Harry flinched, then nodded, and horrified with himself, put his face in his hands, shoulders constricting in a silent sob.

"Good." Blaise stood up quickly, and not waiting for Harry to follow, hauled him up by the collar of his sweater. "Come with me." His words were urgent suddenly and thick. Harry felt numb.

He didn't let go of Harry's collar, and walking very quickly, half-pushed, half-dragged Harry along the hallway. Harry didn't notice where they were going, Blaise was moving too fast for him to get his footing, so he tripped along, half-choking.

Blaise brought them to an old bathroom, down in the lower section of the dungeons, and pushed Harry in front of him, so that Harry tripped partway in, barely catching himself on the edge of a chipped porcelain sink.

Blaise gripped Harry by his upper forearm and pulled him to his feet, then shoving him roughly against the dirty tile wall, he pushed Harry face first into the grimy brick and Harry saw a smear when his head moved, a dark print from his mouth full of blood. Blaise twisted him around, grabbing both Harry's arms with one hand, stretching them behind Harry's back and with the other hand took a fistful of Harry's hair, tipping his head back sharply, bloody mouth open.

He pressed himself up against Harry's body and Harry could feel his erection pressing into Harry's stomach. He was all hot and disgusting and Harry felt sick and crushed.

He put his large, wet mouth over Harry's and stuck his tongue far into Harry's mouth so that Harry choked and gagged, but Blaise held him there, fingers in his dark hair. When he pulled away Harry coughed and coughed all over and there was blood on Blaise's shirt and Blaise hit him in the mouth again and Harry sagged against the wall.

Blaise rubbed himself against Harry and smiled lazy and low-lidded and slow. His breath was coming out all over Harry's face and Harry tried to turn away, to slide away but he was held fast by pain. He was fumbling for the entrance in Harry's pajamas, large fingers slipping until he gave up and just thrust his hand between Harry's legs.

"You're such a fucking girl it's unbelievable. No wonder I've wanted to fuck you for ages." Blaise laughed drunkenly, fingers finally sliding into Harry's pants.

Harry felt sick felt sick, felt oh so sick.

"And I was always afraid I was turning out to be a faggot like you. You like it up the ass Potter don't you? And you like it shoved down your throat. I know all about you and your pretty, pretty mouth."

He yanked Harry's pants down his knees and Harry felt cold and his bare bottom stuck against the dirt on the wall and Blaise was pressing all over him everywhere and he couldn't see and couldn't breathe.

Blaise was pulling on him, rubbing against him, almost frustrated and Harry shook with sickness. "You fucking whore, what's the matter? What the fuck is wrong with you? Not old enough for you? Not greasy enough for you?"

Harry let out a wail of pain then shut his mouth and Blaise hit him again, this time on his side.

Blaise was snorting, frustrated, he pinned Harry against the wall and ripped his sweater up his stomach so that Harry was pressed there, all exposed and shuddering, a bruise already blooming on his white hip.

"Fuck you useless whore, I'll find something to do with you." Then he seized Harry's shoulders and pushed him down to his knees, a bit of broken tile grinding into Harry's kneecap. He still had a tight fistful of Harry's hair and with the other hand he hastily undid his belt buckle, then his zipper. Harry was slumped partway against the wall, breath coming hard, his mouth slack. He shut his lips, feeling dizzy. Blaise pulled out his erection, it was enormous and angry and red looking and Harry turned his head and stared at the opposite wall.

"Open your mouth Potter."

He couldn't do it. He was going to be sick.

"I said, open your fucking mouth." And he twisted the hand that was in Harry's hair until Harry's mouth fell open with an exclamation of pain. Blaise seized the opportunity to shove forward, now gripping Harry's jaw, and force himself down Harry's throat.

Harry choked around the mouthful and squirmed blindly, trying to pull away, but Blaise dug his fingernails into Harry's shoulders until he went limp with pain. Harry shut his eyes gagging and gagging as Blaise thrust into him again and again.

"That's it Potter," he grunted "Christ, fucking –virgins. Open up, wider. That's fucking it." He groaned loudly, again fisting Harry's hair with one hand, and started picking up the rhythm faster and faster. "I'll get it over for you this time, Potter. But next time don't- expect- any- fucking- pity." And then he twitched and forced Harry's face forward into his groin, clutching at his hair with both hands as he spilled into Harry's mouth.

He held him there for a moment, breathing heavily, before he pulled back, sticky with saliva and semen and blood. Harry was sliding down the wall, shaking violently, pants still around his ankles, one naked, bleeding knee pulled in against his chest.

"Stand up you fucking whore." Blaise reached down and pulled Harry up by his hair. Harry made a noise like a bone caught in his throat and put his hands out on either side of him so that he wouldn't fall.

Blaise laughed cruelly, "That was pathetic Potter, but we'll work on you. It won't take long for me to break you in, get you to do something useful with that pretty mouth of yours." He reached down and pulled Harry's pants up his filthy legs, pausing to give Harry a squeeze. He leaned forward, putting his mouth at Harry's ear and wiped himself on Harry's front. "Don't worry, we'll fix that in no time. Next time we'll get you to really bleed." And he laughed again, with his head back then shoved Harry in front of him. "Get out. But just remember what I said- what you promised. I'll find you tomorrow when I need you."

to be continued…