Finally another chapter! College and homework murdered me but I came back to life to post this chapter! I hope you enjoy the new predicament Draco is in :)

...

The sun was beginning to set behind the forest that surrounded Hogwarts castle and its grounds. Draco and Harry flew through the air in silence, Draco leaning lightly against Harry's back, feeling immensely tired. He watched sleepily as Harry flew straight through the Astronomy Tower. Draco vaguely remembering that a portal from it to the dungeons had been created as the result of a potion mishap.

All at once, the orange glow from the sun was replaced with darkness and the dingy, moist smell that was always hanging in the air in the dungeons. Harry guided the broom to the stone floor and stepped off it with Draco following suit. Harry opened the closet door and walked through, holding it open for Draco, still silent.

Harry had been that way right after the two finished their forbidden rendezvous. For the past few hours they had both just sat in that archway, watching the day turn to dusk, Harry not saying a word.

Of course Draco hadn't made a noise either, but what could he have said? 'Thanks for the blow job'? 'The way you look at me makes me want to rip off my pants'? 'Your mouth is a gateway to heaven'? Certainly not.

Besides, Potter seemed to be lost deep in thought.

Draco stepped through the door as well and began to walk slowly towards the Slytherin dormitory… until he stopped. He heard the closet door creak slowly and Potter's shoes clack sharply on stone as he began to walk back inside the closet.

"Wait!" Draco blurted out, turning around, forgetting to hide the look of confusion and pain on his face. Harry stopped but didn't turn around. Draco traced the raven-haired boy's broad shoulders with his eyes before continuing.

"Why are you… doing this to me?" Draco asked, for the first time of his life feeling helpless and vulnerable. "You say I'm your slave but then… you reward me like that… and I," Draco swallowed, his throat feeling dry. "I just don't understand why. Why do you need me for this? I understand that you want something to hold over me… but why take it this far?"

Harry didn't answer for ages. Draco though he might just leave. But after a bit, Harry sighed and looked up, his fist tightening around his broom handle. Then he turned slightly to look at Draco, his eyes colder than ice.

"You keep asking me why when I have clearly answered this question already. You are my slave. A convenient source of stress relief and satisfaction. It's that simple." Harry turned back and began to walk inside the closet.

"You sadistic bastard! Are you really going to just repeat yourself?" Draco shouted, rage boiling up inside him. Potter stopped and glanced back, a crooked smile on his face that stopped Draco's fury short.

"I'm not going to argue that one. I really am a fucked up person. But that's what happens when people rely on someone they've put on a pedestal. Trying to live up to the title of the 'Chosen One' can really warp your sense of self."

Draco could only stare, the wind gone from his sails. Once again he had no idea what to say.

"But," Harry continued with a chuckle, "I'm afraid that's the only answer I'll give you. Bye, Draco."

With that, Harry shut the closet door behind him.

For a while Draco just stood there, grinding his teeth. He was so furious with Potter's answer. He deserved to know the truth behind Potter's actions. For the longest time Draco had a nagging feeling that all of this wasn't just for revenge. There were just so many things that didn't add up. Because of this burning curiosity, he was lead to a decision.

In that moment Draco vowed to get a better answer from Potter, even if it meant forgetting about his strong sense of pride… temporarily, of course.

Draco began to head towards his dormitory to plan more thoroughly, but something stopped him. He heard the flutter of wings and a jet-black owl flew from the staircase towards him. Draco held out his arm for his owl and took the note from its claws. He unfurled the small note and read its gallant cursive.

Draco swallowed thickly. It looked as though his vow would be put on hold momentarily.

...

A few days later, outside the castle, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the boys stretched, preparing for their lesson in P.E. that day.

"Have you noticed that Malfoy has been out of school for the past few days?" Harry asked Ron in an impatient and annoyed voice. Ron sighed, not wanting to think about that Slytherin in particular.

"Yeah… I saw him get picked up by his father outside Dumbledore's office," Ron replied glancing at Harry, becoming distracted by his muscled arms stretching towards his toes.

"I bet he's getting the Dark Mark put on his arm right now," Harry fumed, stretching his legs.

"You really think Voldemort would make that idiot a Death Eater?" Ron said quietly, biting his lip as Harry arched his back.

"All of the Death Eaters are idiots for following Voldemort," Harry spat, standing up. Ron got up as well and followed behind Harry. Ron felt his heart twang with pain. It almost sounded as though Harry had been defending Malfoy. That would have been a foolish thought before, but as of recently, Ron wasn't so sure.

First Harry starts spending an unusual amount of time around Malfoy, then he sneaks off to meet him, and finally Harry's mood always gets dark if he hasn't seen Malfoy in a while. It just… it was strange. But Ron didn't have time to dwell on it now.

"Students! Gather around!" Dumbledore said, blowing his whistle, "Today we will be learning about a noble sport that pits man against man with no extra bells and whistles. Just pure strength and ingenuity." Ron rolled his eyes. He was just glad to have Harry as his partner instead of the Headmaster today. If Ron could have his way, Malfoy would never come back.

"It is a sport called wrestling," Dumbledore said with relish. Several of the students with muggle backgrounds groaned. Ron had never heard of this sport before so he automatically looked to Harry. The look on his face, however, stopped Ron's question in his throat. Harry's eyes had darkened as he stared into space, biting his thumbnail. Tension seemed to strain his every muscle.

Ron quivered when he saw the look in Harry's eyes. It was almost… lustful. Ron knew that was ridiculous, but he couldn't help staring, wishing that Harry's eyes looked like that more often.

"As per muggle protocol, a uniform called a 'singlet' is the garb of choice when competing in this sport. Mats are also used to wrestle on. Now everyone form a line and stand back a little." The students did as they were told and Dumbledore pulled out his wand. He turned his back on the students and twirled his wand across the landscape in front of him.

The ground suddenly began to rumble. Hundreds of two inch high squares rose out of the dirt. Their exterior slowly turned to a red plastic cover and a white circle appeared in the center of each one. Ron watched wide-eyed, still wondering what all of this was for. Then Dumbledore turned around.

"Now, everyone hold still," the Headmaster bellowed. He swished his arm through the air, following the line of students. Ron looked down and saw his gym uniform begin to warp and change. The neckline dipped lower and his shirt and shorts began to knit together. His sleeves detached and twirled around his head, covering his ears and morphing into some sort of headgear. Not to mention, everything became more form fitting. Ron moved around a little in his new uniform, getting used to the feel of it.

"Hey, Harry, what kind of sport is this? Why would we need-"

But Ron didn't get to finish his sentence. He could only look, his mouth hanging open.

Harry stood next to Ron, looking down at his own scarlet uniform. Ron's eyes roamed hungrily over Harry, taking in his naked arms and shoulders that Harry flexed unknowingly as he moved, his bare chest and just the top half of his stomach, and finally, Ron swallowed hard as his eyes moved lower.

He felt himself harden. He was about to move to cover himself when he realized that there was a plastic something covering him where he needed it most.

'Thank Merlin,' Ron thought with a sigh.

Dumbledore motioned for all of the students to come closer as he explained the finer points and basic moves of wrestling. But Ron wasn't paying attention. He was too busy closing his eyes and enjoying how Harry's arm and hip would occasionally brush against his.

"Alright students! Find a mat and get started," Dumbledore shouted bringing Ron out of his stupor. The red head trudged behind Harry, glancing around and hoping to pick up some of the explanation that he had heard earlier. He saw partners stand in the inner circle, knees bent and hunched over, facing each other. Ron couldn't for the life of him understand why.

"Ron, over here," Harry called, motioning towards mat. Ron followed and emulated the position he had seen others doing earlier. He stared at Harry, silently pleading for him to explain the rules again, but Dumbledore began to speak.

"As soon as I blow the whistle you may start. Remember, fair play only! No dirty tricks! Also it may help some of you to picture yourself wrestling someone you dislike. That will make for a more exciting match."

Ron felt even more panicked as he faced his friend. Ron could barely think of anyone besides Harry with his half naked self in front of him, let alone someone he hated. Harry on the other hand seemed to have someone in mind. A terrifying expression had settled on Harry's face. It was a look of pure evil. Ron was about to back away when-

"PWWWEEEEEEEEE!"

In one swift movement Harry lunged forward and grabbed Ron's ankle, yanking it out from under him. Ron froze, his eyes wide, unable to do anything but stare as he lost his balance. Then just as quickly as his first move, Harry slid his arm under Ron's knee and put his other elbow to his chest, slamming him to the ground.

Ron merely laid there, stunned as he looked into Harry's smoldering, green eyes, the raven haired boy panting slightly as he stared back from above. Then all of a sudden, as if realizing where he was Harry's eyes widened and he got off his friend.

"Sorry, mate," Harry said, offering Ron a hand, "When Professor said think of someone you hate I thought of Dudley and I… well I got really into it.' Harry smiled sheepishly helping his friend. Ron nodded, still astonished as he brushed himself off.

"No problem," he said quietly. He looked at Harry up and down. Ron was still out of breath from the take down and as his heart pounded he felt an overwhelming urge to pin Harry down on the mats.

"Amazing, Mr. Potter!" Dumbledore exclaimed as he came to stand beside them, excitement clear in his eyes. "That was a beautifully executed ankle pick coupled with a one-leg takedown! Simply remarkable!" Harry smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"They gave me a few lessons while I was in muggle school," Harry said, acting modest.

"Nonsense, Harry!" Dumbledore cried, beaming at The Boy Who Lived. "You have raw talent! You've inspired me! Starting to day we will begin a weeklong tournament! The winner sha1l receive 50 house points!"

Most of the students cheered and a few groaned, wishing to have nothing to do with this muggle sport. Ron glanced at Harry, feeling himself lick his lips. He knew he would do whatever it took to wrestle Harry again. All of his animal instincts screamed at him to take Harry down if it gave him the chance to be close again like that. The mere thought made him drunk with lust

Harry was also thinking similar thoughts, except it was about a certain blonde Slytherin. Harry hoped beyond all hope that Draco would return to school before the week's end. He had a lot of moves he wanted to try out.

…

~Malfoy Manor~

Draco sat quietly in the den of his home, his heart pounding out of his chest. He knew that this sudden call home had to have something to do with the Death Eaters and their Dark Lord, but nothing could have prepaid Draco for what was to follow. The blonde boy gripped his knees tightly and glanced at the tall, black door that lead to the dining hall. He was terrified at the thought of what awaited him.

A private audience with Lord Voldemort.

Being a Malfoy, Draco knew he was expected to serve and worship He Who Must Not Be Named, but that didn't change the fact that deep down he wanted to run screaming from the Dark Lord. He knew he would be a horrible Death Eater. He wasn't especially skilled with a wand, nor was he crazy enough to murder with a smile on his face like Bellatrix. He knew that the dark deeds he was destined to commit would tear him apart. Draco simply wasn't made to be completely heartless.

Regardless of his feelings, he would have to follow Lord Voldemort's orders or die. There was nothing that could save him.

"Draco," Lucious suddenly hissed after quickly exiting the dining hall and shutting the door behind him. "The Dark Lord wishes to see you now."

Draco got up slowly and glanced cautiously at his father. He had a crazed look in his eyes and his forehead was dripping with sweat. That look was becoming more commonplace on his face everyday.

Slowly, Draco walked to the door. Before entering, his father grasped his shoulder hard, his nails digging in.

"We're counting on you," Lucious said in a harsh whisper. It sounded more like a threat rather than praise on Draco's ears, but he understood why. He knew that should he fail, his parents would be the ones to pay.

Taking a deep breath, Draco grasped the cold, silver handle and pushed open the heavy, wooden door. He shut it behind him and stood awkwardly, his eyes on the floor, not sure if he should sit and too terrified to look up.

"Draco," A slithery whisper found its way to the young Malfoy's ear. Draco flinched, licking his lips nervously. "Come here and sit." Draco nodded stiffly and walked briskly towards Voldemort, who was seated at the head of the table. He glanced up every once in a while and saw that the Dark Lord was lazily petting his snake, a bored expression gracing his features.

"Here, Sir?" Draco asked, almost inaudibly once he had reached the Dark Lord's side.

"Yes my boy. No need to be shy," Voldemort said with a wide smile. Draco felt himself shiver as he plopped down in the large, antique chair. Even a smile could look menacing if it was on Voldemort's lips.

Silence crept into the room as Draco fixed his eyes on the table. The only sound that could be made out was Nagini's hisses and muscles that uncoiled and coiled as her master touched her lovingly. The blonde boy's fingertips were beginning to freeze as all of his blood collected near his hammering heart.

He wanted to get things over with as soon as possible, and yet he knew that merely by being here his life was about to change. He wanted to go back to a few days ago. Back to Hogwarts, back to his cozy bed. And, with clenched teeth and a great deal of embarrassment, he mentally admitted that he wanted to see Harry again. It twisted his stomach to have left things as they were. He knew that there was something more to Potter's actions and Draco wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"I must give you a hand, Draco," Voldemort hissed suddenly, turning Draco's body to ice. "I've had many plans to make Harry Potter vulnerable, but none quite as bold and… dare I say, as clever as yours."

Draco looked directly into the Dark Lord's yellow eyes, feeling his stomach sink and his throat close.

"M-m-my Lord, w-what do you mean?" Draco asked, having a suspicion that he prayed was wrong.

"My dear boy," Voldemort said, leaning closer, his pasty lips curling around his ugly teeth, "you know exactly what I mean." Somewhere from his robes, Voldemort pulled a crystal ball about the size of a bludger and a black, satin pillow, setting them both on the table.

"You see, one night, while I was watching the weakly enchanted areas of the Hogwarts Castle, I happened to notice something." As Voldemort spoke he waved one of his pale hands over the crystal ball. Draco watched in horror as images begin to appear.

"I know I said relax, but that doesn't mean stop."

Draco heard Harry's voice speak breathlessly. His cheeks burned red as he was taken back in time to the health room. The first time he had touched Harry skin to skin.

All Draco could do was listen to the moans and pants that escaped Potter's lips. His eyes couldn't move from the small crystal ball. He watched, feeling sick as he saw himself pleasure the boy beneath him. Draco was shocked by the look in his own eyes. He had never seen himself so wild… so hungry.

"It's simply amazing, really," Voldemort said with a twisted smile as he watched the two boys writhe together in the crystal ball. "I never would have guessed that Potter was… that way." The Dark Lord chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting high.

Draco stayed silent. He bit his lip, thinking back to the exhilaration he had felt then and compared it to the sick and shameful emotions he felt now. He wanted to change the events that had passed… but a part of him knew he wouldn't even if he had the chance.

"This is a prime opportunity you've stumbled onto, Draco," Voldemort murmured, covering the crystal ball with his long, boney fingers. Draco was snapped out of his stupor and his eyes became locked with Voldemort's. He felt himself grow cold and clammy, sweat soaking his palms.

Suddenly, Voldemort reached out his hand and pressed the long nail on his forefinger into the soft flesh under Draco's neck. He felt his skin burn and he swallowed thickly, his throat dry as a bone.

"I will keep this secret between you and me. After all, I assume your family does not know of this little… relationship you've developed." Draco felt relief and fear at the same time. He tightened his fists, willing himself to stop shaking.

"But in return," Voldemort continued, a wicked edge in his voice, "you must gain Potter's trust and provide me with a window into his inner most weaknesses. This of course means that you will need to become closer to him, using any means necessary."

Draco didn't answer. He merely stared; wide-eyed, still shocked at the situation he had found himself in. Part of him was terrified at the thought of failing in regards to Voldemort's request… but somewhere, deep inside himself, he was practically jumping at the chance to follow through with this mission.

"Is there a problem, Draco?" Voldemort asked, responding to the blonde's silence, "Do you accept my proposition… or do you wish to refuse?" After taking a deep breath Draco cleared his throat. He knew that in reality, he had no choice.

"I accept. I… I'll do it."

"That's a good boy," Voldemort said with a smile as he returned to petting his snake. "You may go now. Return to school and start immediately. If you feel you've found something important use this to contact me." The Dark Lord reached into his robes again and pulled out a pewter snake statue. He slid it across the table to Draco. "Press down its head and I will be able to hear what you wish to say."

Draco picked up the silver animal and felt the cool metal on his skin. He stared into the snake's emerald eyes wondering what was to happen once he returned to Hogwarts. There was one thing he knew for certain. This meeting really had changed his life.

"You may go now," Voldemort said with a smile, watching the young Malfoy get up from his seat and walk towards the door. "And remember," he called out before Draco pulled open the large wooden door, "I'll be watching you."

Draco paused for only a moment before he continued forward, Voldemort's dark chuckles at his back.

...

Can you guess what Voldemort's request will mean? Three words: Draco being dominant.
I hope that keeps all of you on the edge of your seat!

R&R& Enjoy :)