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It had been meant as a joke, a cruel, painful taunt created with the soul intent of mortifying and frightening the Golden Boy all at once. Instead it had left Harry seriously brooding, something he repaid Malfoy for by catching the boy later that day, and leaving him a bruised mess at the edge of the Great Lake.
Malfoy was still unwilling to admit just who exactly had beaten him up, and Harry wasn’t in a hurry to get detention.
As it was, Harry couldn’t quite figure out what had compelled the Slytherin to come back for more. Stepping further into the shadows of the Astronomy Tower, Harry acknowledged the pale form in the doorway with a glare.
“What the hell do you want?”
Draco just raised a brow in his familiar, you’re less than dirt beneath my shoes look, and lit up the cigarette he pulled from his robe. “Relax, Potter. I’m not here for revenge.”
Harry watched the Slytherin walk out into the moonlight, eventually lowering his guard once he was certain Draco wasn’t there for a fight. Harry had gained a good half a head on the blond that summer, not to mention muscle, but Draco was still a powerful wizard, his intelligence more dangerous than anything else. “You shouldn’t smoke that shit. Cancer kills wizards just as easy as muggles.”
“Yeah, but wizard tobacco doesn’t have the carcinogens. The worst I’ll get is a nasty cough.” Draco took a deep drag, looking out into the night while he exhaled slowly. He turned his gaze to Harry, leaning back on the stonewall keeping him from a long dive to the ground. “Let’s talk, Potter. I think this will be good for us.”
Harry gave a skeptical snort, wandering out into the moonlight with his head bowed low. His eyes never left Draco. “Maybe I don’t want things to be ‘good’ for us.”
“Heh, you’re not that masochistic, Potter. Even if your hero complex keeps you shouldering the pain, I know you’d jump at a chance to alleviate the burden for your weak little friends. They’re not built like us. They can’t handle it.”
“Malfoy… I think you’ve managed to piss me off in less than a minute of your talking.”
“Yeah, well keep your anger to yourself there, big guy. I don’t need the trip to the hospital ward.” Draco airily waved smoke away from his face, assessing Harry beneath lowered lashes. “You ever been raped, Potter?”
Harry blinked. “What the fuck kind of question is that?”
“Hmm… I’m going to take that as a no.” Draco turned back to the view of the forest, his cigarette a dim orange glow quickly consumed between nervous fingers.
Not sure what the hell was going on with the kid, Harry decided to just ask. He never was one for subtle games, and at the moment his patience was just about gone, his day spent on hardly cheerful thoughts. “Not to repeat myself and all, but what the hell do you want?”
“Nothing, I guess,” Draco answered cryptically. “Well…” He turned on the wall again, staring up at the tower dark against the night sky, his gaze steadily avoiding Harry.
“You see, I’ve never been raped, Potter, but I can imagine it’s a very nasty experience. And given your rather brutal retaliation to my little joke, I thought maybe I had made a rather large faux pas. You see, a joke like that is only funny if it doesn’t hold any truth to it, and if that was the case, I would have felt… regretful, I suppose, for saying such a thing.” Draco trailed off, flicking ash to the stone ledge.
“I see.” Harry suddenly wished he had one of those cigarettes. He busied himself by running his hands over the stonewall, deliberately snagging his short fingernails on the rough surface. “Well, err… thanks, I gue—“
“Are you gay?”
Draco studied Harry’s flustered face before smirking. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
“Relax, Potter. I have no intention of outing you. I imagine it beats being raped. Also sort of explains your little freak out earlier.” Draco rubbed his cheek, the bruise long gone from everything but memory.
Shaking off his anger was not as easy as Harry would have liked it to be. He began to pace. It wasn’t like Malfoy’s orientation was any straighter than his own. “Are you through? Can you leave me alone now?”
A sad smile was hidden behind a puff of smoke. “Not quite, Potter. I’m doing this to keep a repeat of this afternoon from happening again. I like my neck where it’s attached. And I really can’t let my favorite rival be expelled from school over a stupid misunderstanding.”
“What are you saying? You don’t want to fight anymore?” As ridiculous as the idea was, it left Harry feeling empty. Draco Malfoy may be the bane of his existence, but at least he was consistent. Even when the world changed and shook around him, he could still count on Malfoy to be waiting in the wings to laugh when he faltered.
Draco scrunched his nose thoughtfully, eventually turning his gaze to Harry’s intense green. “I don’t know… I rather like fighting with you, to be honest. I don’t like getting the shit knocked out of me without knowing why, though. I thought I had you figured out, and then you pull this random act of violence. I don’t like surprises like that, Potter. I don’t like making mistakes that, by all rights, I shouldn’t have made.”
Harry nodded, able to understand that easily enough, given that he felt the same way. He liked to at least be able to feel out how his actions would affect the world around him. And in that light, he could see how he had been completely out of character with his attack of Malfoy.
“It won’t happen again. I shouldn’t have let my anger get away from me like that.”
Draco rolled his eyes skyward. “Potter, I expect your anger, and I understand how you have absolutely no control over it.”
Harry growled under the sharp tone. “What do you want me to do? Next time I’ll warn you, okay? We can come up with some stupid safe word or something, and if we say it, we’ll know we’re a few steps away from killing each other.”
“That’s actually a good idea, especially with your erratic tendencies.” Draco ignored the glaring boy, falling into a thoughtful silence. “How about… ashes? As in, if you keep on that tangent, I’ll be leaving you in a pile of ashes.”
“Fine, ashes. Whatever. Now bugger off, already.” Harry crossed his arms with a huff, glaring at the blond.
“I still want to know what triggered the incident today.”
Draco narrowed his eyes, throwing the rest of his cigarette to the ground. “Potter, you left me alone in the wilds with a concussion, in a spot unseen from the castle. You at least owe me a bloody explanation.”
Harry started, not truly realizing just what he had done until that moment. Malfoy could have seriously been hurt. The little git could have died. “Shit. Fine, what do you want to know?”
“I want to know what part of ‘Tom dicking Harry’ made you beat the hell out of me. If it’s not rape, then what? You don’t seem the type for self-hatred for being a poof, so I doubt that’s it. I just can’t figure it out. Unless you’ve just had one of your famous mental breaks,” Draco added with a sneer, rubbing his shoulder this time at another mental twinge.
Harry considered, for not the first time, letting Malfoy think he was merely mad as a loon. Actually, the more Harry brooded over what was bothering him, the more he imagined he was likely out of his mind.
“Don’t fucking pretend that you don’t know the Dark Lord's first name is Tom, Malfoy.”
Draco tilted his head in surprise. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise, dolt. Tom, Dick, Harry. Tom dicking Harry. Golden boy ass raped by the Dark Lord. It seemed rather clear to me. The man’s a fucking dog, but I don’t think the mental image it brings up warrants my death.”
“Have you seen Tom?”
“Yeah, and believe me it wasn’t fun. Red slits, mound for a nose—Just gross. Still though, I wouldn’t have flipped like that over it.”
“Not You-Know-Who, Malfoy. Tom.”
Frowning, Draco pondered, trying to remember if there was someone named Tom that wasn’t Voldemort. “I’m not following you.”
With a growl, Harry pulled his wand free and waved it with a flourish. Three small photos appeared, caught by Harry before they could flutter to the ground. One was of his parents on their wedding day, another of the Marauders during their Hogwarts’ years, and the final was a blurry, yellowed photo of Tom Riddle, fresh faced in his Hogwarts’ robes. Harry shoved the last under Draco’s nose, waiting expectantly.
Squinting at the photo too close to his eyes, Draco eventually grabbed Harry’s hand and moved it to a clearer distance so he could focus. “Well, well… hello. This your wet dream or something, Potter?”
Harry’s glare was molten. “Ashes!”
Draco gulped, realizing his mistake too late. “Ehh… sorry about that.” He shuffled back to put enough distance between them and to give him a chance to run if needed. “Perhaps you should just explain, and I’ll stay nice and quiet. Alright, Potter?”
“This is Tom Riddle.”
“Huh? No fucking way.” Draco grabbed the photo from Harry’s grasp, looking it over closely. “Well, not bad there. Didn't age well, now did he?”
Looking up, Draco handed the photo back to Harry. “Still not clear on your reaction earlier.”
Harry scowled, stuffing the photo away in his robes. “I, uh, ran across Tom's diary a while back when dealing with the whole Chamber of Secrets. It was enchanted, a bit of young Tom charmed into pages. I didn't know who he was. Didn't realize Voldemort could ever have been remotely human at any time in his life.”
Draco flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name. “Well, who the hell would have ever expected him to look like that?”
Draco pulled his cigarette case out, offering one to Harry while taking another for himself. Harry accepted, leaning in so Draco could light his. Taking a long drag, Harry let his muscles slowly relax into the vanilla flavored scent.
Harry continued, finding it easier to speak. “Tom was brilliant, handsome, and had a genuine interest in me. It was a long time before I figured out how fucked up he was. By then he was in my head, in my dreams, feeding off me.”
Harry took another drag, studying his shoes. “He was persistent, obsessed. Very... persuasive.”
Draco took a long look at Harry, eying the boy up and down. “How persuasive?” He asked, his eyebrow quirked.
Harry caught the interested look, returning it with confusion. “What, you want details?”
Draco shrugged, unapologetic. He bit at his cigarette, letting it hang from his lips. “It's pretty slim pickings around here, Potter. Don't mind me if I live vicariously.”
Harry snorted, unfortunately understanding all too well. “Fine. So I happened to mention how unwell I'd been feeling lately. The diary was draining me, but I couldn't put two and two together yet. Tom offered to help. He offered to share some of his energy...” Harry trailed off.
“And?” Draco asked, waving his hand encouragingly.
“And... it was intense.” Harry bit his lip, thinking back to the experience. “I guess its similar to the whole vampire lure. You really can't prey on someone without ensnaring them.”
“Oh, something you've had experience in?” Harry frowned, not sure if he was annoyed at the implication, or the fact that Draco didn't seem to be joking.
“No, Malfoy, I don't go around stalking people like prey.”
“Mmm... Besides me, right Potter?”
Harry shook his head, smiling darkly. “You are damn infuriating.”
“Thank you; it's an art. Finish your story. I'm curious how far this went.”
Harry scowled. “I thought that was implied when I decked you.”
Another long drag, and Draco drawled. “I'm dying in anticipation here. Spill.”
Harry leaned hard against the wall, staring out at where the stars met the dark forest. “Tom always excelled at everything he did, the more degenerate the better. He told me I needed to kiss him, and looking at him, I really couldn't think of a reason why that wouldn't be exactly what was required for an energy share.”
Draco raised his eyebrows in silent agreement, leaning forward to stare at the stone floor.
“And, naturally, the kiss started draining me pretty damn fast. I could feel him, pushing me down, touching me. Sick fuck, he knew he was killing me. I guess head was the closest thank you he was willing to give... And he was good, I'll give him that. I wasn't complaining at the time.”
Harry crushed what was left of the cigarette under his heel, slowly scraping his shoe across the floor. “That when he fucked you?” Draco asked softly. Harry met the unreadable eyes, looking for the judgment he knew must be hiding, but unable to find it.
“Yeah. I couldn't fight by then. Didn't want to. He was surprisingly gentle... for a megalomaniac psycho. But Tom wasn't fully formed then, was he? Still had a bit of humanity left.”
Nodding, Draco turned, leaning over the low wall and staring down at the ground far away below. “So... that was a ways ago. Did you think you wanted guys before that experience?”
Harry rolled his eyes, joining Draco and looking down from the dizzying height. “What, you think the Dark Lord turned me gay?”
“Why not? He fucked up everyone else in some way.” Draco gave him a long side look.
“Unless you're going to tell me he turned you gay, I'm not buying it. I don't think the spell exists. Not that I've looked.”
“No, nothing like that.” Draco looked off in the distance, lost in thought. “You-Know-Who... well, my parents told me... that there were expectations for me, once I'm out of school.”
“Getting the family tattoo, eh?”
Draco looked up, mania glinting in his colorless eyes. “Don't I fucking wish, Potter. At least he looked alright when he gave you a go. At least no one was fucking handing you over to him.”
Harry fell silent, resting his head on the cold stone. “That's pretty sick.”
Draco nodded, his hands gripping the wall tightly, fingers turning white. “One of the many perks of being such a handsome bloke. How can I expect the Dark Lord to resist?” Draco laughed harshly.
Harry found himself staring, not sure he had ever really seen Draco Malfoy before. The boy was stunning now that his pointy features had softened a bit. White creamy complexion, full red mouth, lithe figure... clear, crystal eyes. Harry hadn't noticed, still very much annoyed by everything that came out of the bastard's mouth. Yeah, Tom would have a lot of fun with a pretty thing like Malfoy.
“Give me another cigarette?” Harry asked, refusing to dwell on the destruction of Draco Malfoy in less than a year.
Draco did, leaning in close to keep the flame from going out in the wind. After Harry had a drag, Draco motioned for it back, sucking in deep. “Last one.” Draco handed it back, once again staring down at the far away ground beneath the Astronomy Tower.
The silence got the better of him. Harry gave the last half of the cigarette back, watching the thin stick float on Draco's long fingers. “What are you going to do?” Harry asked, wishing he hadn't the moment it slipped out.
“Well... I guess that depends on if you fail.” Draco blew the hair out of his eyes, laughing softly at the absurdity of it all. “Can you imagine; me rooting for you? Takes all the fun out of it.”
Harry didn't answer. Malfoy was always full of games. The weirdest shit entertained him, including bets on Harry's life... But maybe the boy had just revealed why. Harry considered how long Draco had seemed to vehemently hate him.
“You knew since when? That you were being 'given away.'”
Draco furrowed his brow, thinking. “Long time... before I came here. My parents hadn't been certain back then with You-Know-Who hiding and all. But still, the grooming, the expectations.”
“Ah... so maybe you're not that into guys, hmm?”
Draco pushed away from the wall at that. “No, I'm quite sure I like dick. Just not that particular dick.” Draco was out of cigarettes, which seemed reason enough to go back inside.
Harry watched the boy walk towards the doorway, shoulders hunched, hands deep in his pockets. “Hey, Malfoy?”
Draco stopped and turned, eyebrow raised.
“Wanna share some energy?” Harry offered.
He was expecting a laugh, or a punch at worst, not the pure look of anguish that flitted over Draco's face before the boy caught ahold of himself.
Harry blinked, taking him a moment to remember the safe word Draco had picked to warn each other when their jokes had gone too far. Well, hell.
Harry stalked forward, grabbing Draco before he could open the door back into the castle.
“Don't—!” Draco warned, but it was too late, Harry pushing him back against the door and kissing him. “Shit... this can't happen,” Draco whispered, even while wrapping fingers into Harry's thick hair and pulling him down.
Harry ignored the blond's words, much more interested in the other things Malfoy's mouth could do. Draco kissed slowly, hungrily, and when Harry ran a tongue over his, the boy gave a wonderful, desperate moan.
Draco felt Harry's hands pushing back his school robes and pulling at his shirt until it was free from his belt. And then hot, rough palms burned against the flesh of his stomach and sides, moving up, squeezing firm, fingers digging in until he gasped. A hard thigh pushed between his legs, pinning him back into the unyielding door, giving his erection something to rub into as Harry started biting down his neck and shoulder.
Draco tried again to break through the red heat. “Potter... gotta stop... oh, fuck.” Harry's hips had found his and he could feel just how hard the other boy was. “Fuck.”
Potter was a big boy; he could handle whatever Voldemort would do for touching his special pet. At least, Draco hoped so. The Golden Boy didn't seem concerned at all.
“Take those fucking glasses off,” Draco demanded, earning him a rueful smile from Harry, who tossed them to the ground carelessly.
Harry grabbed Draco by the hips, raising him up the door, letting the blond wrap his legs around him before pinning him again. “Hello there.” Harry looked up into feverish gray, taking in Draco's flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “Any other requests?” He asked cheekily, running fingers gently over Draco's face.
Draco's eyes closed to block out the achingly beautiful boy from his sight. Fingers touched his lips and he bit one softly, feeling Harry's breath hitch. Draco opened his eyes, wanting to see the brunette's expression as he slid his tongue over the trapped digit and bit again. It was a good look on the boy, green eyes grown dark with lust, lips parted as he panted.
“Want to fuck me, Potter?” Draco asked, feeling very brave with the brunette pressed against him. Harry gave a groan at the question, hips thrusting forward, jarring Draco against the door.
“That's what I thought.” Draco ran hands over Harry's shoulders, pushing at the robe until the boy shifted and let the fabric fall to the ground. Draco then reached down, pulling Harry's t-shirt up, letting his hands explore his back and shoulders. Harry was looking at him searchingly, hands frustratingly still.
“Well?” Draco asked. “Are you going to fuck me?”
It took a moment for Harry to answer. “I did actually plan on giving you some energy. I'd hate to think what Voldie would do to you if I... well, had you first.”
Draco sighed. “Thinking was never your strong suit, Potter.” He ignored the glare, fingers once again tangling in Harry's hair. “Lets just say, I don't plan on being alive to find out what You-Know-Who is interested in doing to me. So a nice, hard fuck now would be greatly appreciated.” He accented his words by painfully pulling on Harry's hair.
Eyes blazing with want, Harry nodded, kissing Draco with bruising force. He tore at the buttons on the blond's shirt, kissing down the pale chest as far as their cramped position would allow. Harry laved a pink nipple, steadying Draco when the boy bucked against him in response. Enjoying how Draco was quickly becoming unhinged, Harry continued torturing the little nub, licking and rolling it gently between his teeth.
“Potter... hurry the fuck up,” Draco growled, his head lolling against the door, unable to lift the weight of it at the moment.
Harry was smirking up at him in a delicious, devilish manner that he was learning quickly to appreciate. Draco felt hands pressing on his thighs and he quickly untangled his legs from the boy's hips, standing unsteadily as Harry suddenly knelt before him.
“Holy fuck!” Draco gaped, hot molten heat encasing his dick. He looked down, entranced as Harry fucking Potter wrapped pink lips around his cock and sucked.
Harry could feel Draco shudder, the boy's elegant hands pressing at the back of his head, trying to push him down and take in more. Harry obliged, reveling in the taste of the boy, the feel of the long hard flesh on his tongue and throat. While Draco writhed in pleasure, Harry pushed the boy's slacks down along with his briefs, giving him access to the tender flesh behind.
“My god,” Draco moaned as a slick, lubricated finger pressed into his entrance, slowly sinking in. Standing was becoming a serious concern, his legs unable to handle the relish in which Harry was bobbing his head. But suddenly Harry stopped, standing and pinning Draco back against the door again. Draco wanted to cry in frustration but then he felt Harry pushing two fingers into his hole and all thoughts left him.
“You're doing damn amazing, Malfoy,” Harry whispered encouragingly, watching the boy's features twist in torment and pleasure while he began loosening the tight ring of muscles. He could feel Draco's hips pushing back, wanting more, so Harry withdrew and added a third finger, grunting at the tightness as he pushed.
“Fuck... fuck. “ Draco's head fell forward, resting on Harry's shoulder. Harry pushed the shining hair from the boy's face, watching Draco mutter swears into his neck. Sweat was dripping down his pale face and neck, contrasting with the chill in the night air. Harry swallowed nervously, Draco suddenly meeting his eyes with consuming intent.
“Do it, Potter. Before I fucking lose my mind.”
Harry withdrew his fingers, grinding Draco's hips to his. He kissed the boy soundly, dizzyingly, and then turned Draco and pushed him firmly up against the door. Quickly unzipping his jeans, Harry pushed his underwear out of the way and guided his now leaking erection to Draco's entrance, eyes closing as he pressed slowly into the waiting heat.
Draco was still, bottom lip caught between his teeth, feeling his breath stop from the relentless pressure pinching his tender flesh. He let out a shaky breath, then a cry, feeling his body opening up to the unfamiliar intrusion. It was too much, he realized dully. Too big. But his body didn't agree, hips pushing back, bucking into the pain, impaling him faster.
Harry grabbed Draco's hips, trying to stop their wild grinding. “Fuck... you're tight,” he growled, thrusting forward shallowly, burying himself in inch by inch as Draco sobbed into the door.
The blond was shaking, his whole body trembling. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, warming his long arms and torso. He buried his face into the blond's neck, kissing and biting gently until he felt the boy respond.
Draco could feel the red heat return, the pain transforming to exquisite agony that could only be alleviated by the rhythm created when Harry began to fuck him. Draco scrambled for purchase, fingers biting into the hard wood on the door as he pushed back to meet every thrust.
“Oh fuck, Malfoy... that's it,” Harry murmured, slowly sliding in and out of the blond's tight channel. Draco's face was turned, head resting on the door, mouth wide as he gasped for air. Harry leaned forward, nuzzling into the boy's cheek.
“Harder,” Draco begged, pushing back against Harry's hips, forcing the boy to reach deeper.
Harry felt his control slip and he pulled back and slammed hard into Draco, the boy making a long keening moan of approval.
“Again... Don't fucking stop.”
Harry would have laughed at the idea that he could stop, but Draco's channel was squeezing tight around him, stealing his breath away. He moved his hands to his hips, gripping firmly and pushed hard into the blond again. With each thrust forward he forced the boy's hips back, slamming them together.
“Oh... hell... yes,” Draco cried as Harry pounded into him. Gods it was good. Potter was a fucking raw animal of lust and violence... So fucking big inside him... He was so fucking full of the thick, gorgeous boy's cock. God, he had wanted Harry forever. Had dreamed of being taken by him in some dark corridor... or the quidditch pitch...
“Almost there,” Harry grunted, biting Draco's shoulder hard and making the boy shout. He reached around, fingers seeking out Draco's straining erection. It was thicker than before, close to completion. Harry gripped firmly as he fucked Draco, letting their movements force the boy's arousal to move through his lubricated grip.
Draco tightened around Harry, impossibly so right before shooting his load all over the brunette's hand and the door. Growling, Harry slammed in again, and again, giving a final shudder before filling Draco with his hot seed. Harry groaned, pushing in hard, grinding the blond's hips into the door and pinning the boy there as he spasmed into the eager body beneath him.
“Oh fuck,” Draco whimpered, feeling his body go boneless as Harry withdrew. The brunette was pulling him back, pulling him to the ground to sit, still trapped against the boy's heaving chest. Draco didn't mind, allowing himself to indulge in the contact for as long as he could.
Harry ran languid kisses down the side of Draco's neck, letting his heart slow its wild racing. Draco shifted and Harry tightened his hold, keeping the boy in his lap as long as possible. “Shhh,” He soothed, feeling Draco tense. “I still owe you some energy.”
“You don't owe me anything,” Draco whispered, his head bowed.
Harry ignored him, reaching for his fallen robe and his wand hidden inside. He pulled Draco tight to him, enjoying the feel and smell of the boy's skin. “Malfoy, I'm going to kill him.”
“Maybe.” Draco still refused to look up. Harry gripped Draco's narrow jaw, twisting until gray eyes met his.
“He will never touch you. I'll see to it.”
Harry's eyes were blazing with power, and Draco wanted desperately to believe him. “Don't waste your thoughts on me, Potter. I know how to take care of myself.”
Harry narrowed his eyes, then looked away. Malfoy's parents were handing him over as a plaything to the Dark Lord. The boy had no clue what it meant to have people care about him. Harry professing some foolish desire to protect the prat after, albeit, very good sex, was not going to convince Malfoy of anything.
Harry would just have to prove it. Voldemort would have to die before he finished school that year. That was all.
Draco looked up, having closed his eyes for long moments sleepily. “Hmm?”
“We both have fourth period off tomorrow.”
Draco furrowed his brow. He was cold, the night and dark thoughts stealing what was left of the heat once burning in him. “So?”
“So, wouldn't it be just a bitch if I fucked you in the Slytherin corridors?”
Draco meant to laugh but the thought was extremely arousing. “You have a death wish, Potter.”
Harry shrugged, running hands down Draco's bare thighs. “Maybe I just really want to fuck you again.”
Draco licked his suddenly dry lips, smiling to himself. “Alright. Fourth period. Bring that obnoxiously hot mouth of yours.”
“Head it is,” Harry quipped, licking up the side of Draco's neck.
It wouldn't take much to kill Voldemort in his weakened condition. And hell, until then Harry could very much enjoy corrupting Draco's very pure body before old Voldie ever had a chance to touch him. And to think, Tom had taught him half the stuff in the first place.
He was a big fucking fan of irony.