Chapter 10

Dumbledore cornered Harry and Draco on the way back to their room-the two of them always seemed to be together. The Headmaster smiled. Hopefully they are making progress in their relationship. Clearing his mind of all thoughts except for the upcoming battle, Dumbledore ahemed and got their attention. “Harry, it’s time.”

Harry sighed, thoroughly exhausted. Can’t we do this some other time? Like when I’m actually in control of my powers? I mean, it isn’t like Voldemort is suddenly going to disappear on us and turn us all into frogs while we sleep. Where that random thought had come from, Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But as soon as he thought it, a more prominent picture took its place.


Lucius Apparated into Malfoy Manor without the usual grandeur he reserved for special occasions. Perhaps he might have made a bit more effort if he knew that he was having a guest.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes in anger at the popping sound of Apparition. The Dark Lord had been ransacking the younger Malfoy’s possessions, hoping to find something that might give him a clue of Draco’s political affiliations. Of course, questioning Lucius might work too… In a flashy swivel, robes flying every which way, Tom Riddle Apparated right in front of Lucius Malfoy.

Startled, Lucius jumped backwards, just barely keeping himself from crashing into the table. “Voldemort,” he spat angrily. “Why the hell are you in my house?”

“Now, now,” Voldemort hissed condescendingly. “Is that anyway to treat your lover?”

“Ex-lover,” Lucius spat back. “I’ll never align myself with your cause, Tom. The only reason I didn’t kill you when I had a chance is because I was under the foolish impression you actually felt something for me.”

Tom stopped in his tracks, considering his move. The man’s words had hurt, more than he had expected. Voldemort had in fact loved Lucius, for a time, but had never been able to admit his feelings. And now the past was coming back to haunt him, just like it did everyone else. “Is there anyway I can convince you to join me, my love?”

If Lucius was shocked by the apellation, he didn’t show it. None of the tension left his taught body, none of the anger left his face. “No. Either kill me now or get out of my house.”

Voldemort couldn’t let that remark pass unpunished. “Crucio, he stated calmly, smirking as Lucius began shrieking in pain. “Finite Incantatem,” he said after a few minutes had past. “Now will you join me?”

Lucius glared at him, but it was a weak one. “No,” he rasped. “I will die first.”

Tom shook his head sadly, and raised his wand arm to point at Lucius’ chest. “Have it your way, Lucius. I will miss you. Avada Kedavra Crucio.”

Lucius screamed in pain as he heard the curse said. It was a revision of the Killing Curse-it still killed, but the pain you felt before you died was horrendous. Crying loudly, he passed into the cold oblivion of death.

End Flashback

A white hot rage engulfed the Gryffindor. Draco’s father had to be avenged, no matter what the cost might be. “When will you require my services, sir?” Harry asked. Neither him nor Draco dared voice the underlying meaning in Harry’s tone. The Gryffindor was, essentially, asking the Headmaster when he was supposed to kill Voldemort.

Dumbledore hesitated, not wanting to reveal valuable information in front of a possible Death Eater. At Harry’s narrowed eyes, though, he relented. “Tomorrow morning. I am gathering the Order and all the wizards of our world, as well as in a few others, and arranging a base camp. We will take over Voldemort’s Lair tonight-our spy has gifted with the knowledge of how to accomplish such a thing. I willc all you through the fireplace when your assistance is required.”

Harry frowned. Other worlds? What other worlds? I didn’t know there was more than one magic world. Oy, I am so confused right now… Putting those thoughts aside-he would return to them later. He concentrated instead on the battle plan. From what he could see, there were quite a few flaws. But Harry trusted that Dumbledore knew what he was doing.

Draco, on the other hand, sensed that the Headmaster had not told them the whole story. The Slytherin suspected that he was the most likely reason for the lack of detailed information, but decided against mentioning it. The blonde shook off his suspicions and watched curiously as the Headmster strode down the hallway, leaving him and Harry at their doorway. Draco muttered the password-Vehecelemate-and entered the room.

“So,” Draco asked, “Who’s this spy?”

Harry grinned. “You’ll never believe me,” the Gryffindor stated.

“Try me,” Draco smirked. Inwardly, his thoughts focused on something that had been troubling him since lunch…his lack of trust in Harry. I know you won’t lie to me now, Harry. I found that out the hard way at lunch-here a shiver ran up Draco’s spine. Believe me, I’ll not doubt you again. At least not before I’ve gathered all the facts first.

The Gryffindor smiled, and then grew somber as he scanned Hogwarts for anyone who might be spying. Somehow he used his elemental powers as well-everything was tinged around the edges with a glowing blue light instead of with the regular metallic silver and gold of his Hecatemus powers. Frowning because he really hated not knowing how to control those powers, he turned to Draco. “Snape. He’s been spying for Dumbledore ever since he started teaching here.”

Draco giggled. Oh, that’s rich! No wonder the man’s so snappish! All that bowing and scrapping has got to grate on a person’s nerves! He shook his head in amusement. “Well, that certainly clears up a few things. Why the man’s always so irritable, for one.”

Harry laughed, relieved that Draco had taken his word for it. The Slytherin was beginning to trust him, and Harry was cheered by the thought. Suddenly somber, he stated, “I’m not one to ruin a good mood, but I have to fight Voldemort tomorrow,” Harry said, looking anywhere else but at Draco. What if I don’t come back from the duel? What if I have to die for Voldemort to die? What will Draco do if I die?

He cleared his mind of the unwelcome negative thoughts. The prophecy had only stated that one of them had to die for the other one to live, not that both of them had to die. The only thing Harry should be concerned about, he decided, was his own safety. Draco would be safe in their room at Hogwarts and there was no way in the Nine Hells that Voldemort was laying a hand on his mate!

Draco swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill. He really didn’t want Harry to leave him-especially by way of death-but Draco knew the price of war. A little too well, he thought, the memory of his father’s death hitting him again like a bludger to the head. Draco really didn’t want someone else he cared about to die. Desperately seeking a way to keep from having to think about the Gryffindor’s upcoming duel with Voldemort, Draco struck upon an idea. Perhaps, before Harry left, Draco could make the night a memorable one…

Harry swallowed hard at the evil glint he saw rising in his mate’s eyes. The Gryffindor had seen Draco’s emotions jump from despair, to grief, to hope, and then finally, to lust.

“Harry,” Draco asked slowly. “What are your opinions on bondage and dominance games?”

Well. That was certainly unexpected. Harry did his best to resist answering the question, but it was no good. The submissive Veela in him forced him to answer all questions Draco asked. “I’m not certain. Being Veela makes me naturally submissive-Here he narrowed his inner eyes at himself-and the idea of bondage is rather…intriguing.” Having been a fantasy of mine for quite awhile, Harry added silently.

Draco looked down at Harry’s crotch and grinned, causing Harry to squirm. Intriguing indeed. Draco reached out a hand and felt Harry’s arousal through the teen’s pants.

Harry moaned at the sensation, then bit his lip, embarassed.

Draco grinned wickedly. “None of that now, Harry. I want to hear you.” He rubbed harder and ellicited another moan from Harry. “Lie on the bed, Harry. Undress first,” Draco ordered.

For the first time, Harry wished he could truly rebel against his Veela submissive state. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the way Draco was taking control-he enjoyed it immensely. What bothered him was the way it seemed to humiliate him without actually being humiliating. All psychological, I suppose, Harry concluded grimly, slowly divesting himself of everything but his boxers.

The Gryffindor began to lie down on the bed, but Draco’s sharp tone made him cringe. “All the way, Harry. I want to see your body,” Draco was enjoying himself. None of his previous partners had been into these games and it excited him to no end that Harry was.

Harry swallowed hard and slipped the boxers down his legs and stepped out of them, quickly placing himself face-down on the bed, determined not to show Draco his flaming red face.

“Turn over. Face the ceiling,” Draco commanded softly, and Harry obeyed, thinking, Shit. There goes that plan.

Suddenly Harry found cuffs around his wrists and ankles that attached him to the bedposts. Swallowing nervously, he tuned in carefully to what Draco was saying.

“Harry, I’m going to do a spell that will prevent you from coming unless I, specifically, grant you that relief.”

Harry groaned softly. Draco was a horrible tease and he knew it, but this was more teasing than Harry had ever expected. The blonde teen knelt on the side of the bed next to Harry, muttered a spell and grinned wickedly. “What other tortures can you come up with, Draco?” Harry asked, desperately hopeful that there would be no other. He was wrong.

The blonde muttered another spell and sat back smirking. “That one,” he said in satisfaction, “will keep you aroused until I say the counterspell.”

Harry groaned. Draco was going to kill him with sheer pleasure! Draco grinned at Harry’s obvious discomfort, and wickedly began stroking Harry’s cock, alternating the pace until the Gryffindor was writhing with pain-laced pleasure. He looked pleadingly at Draco to allow him some sort of release, but the Slytherin deigned to ignore him.

Draco leaned down and traced the contours of Harry’s body with his tongue, swelling the raven-haired teen’s nipples with a tongue-bath. Leaning down, he captured Harry’s tongue with his own, and ravished the Gryffindor until Harry couldn’t see straight.

Draco released his mate from the bonds. “Turn over,” he said simply. An immediate response followed the command. Draco took his time preparing Harry, finger-fucking him and stroking Harry’s cock at the same time. Then, with no warning whatsoever to the tan-skinned wizard, the Slytherin buried himself up to the hilt in Harry’s ass. Somehow he had found his way out of his own garments earlier, though he didn’t remember when or how. Draco drove the Gryffindor half-insane by altering the pace. Slow, then fast, then slow, then fast and hard until Draco reached his own orgasm. Harry was, at this time, a quivering mass of need, begging Draco to let him come. The Slytherin refused, having other plans.

Draco stood up, found his clothes and dressed himself. Finding Harry’s clothes, he tossed them to the Gryffindor and told him to get dressed. Having no choice but to obey, Harry did so.

Harry bit his lip, trying not to cry with disappointment. Draco hadn’t allowed the bond to form fully-it required both people to reach completion for that to occur. Harry tried to console himself by thinking, It doesn’t matter. Draco can always complete the bond later, over and over again in his head. It didn’t help.

The Slytherin looked at Harry, and a sudden surge of guilt ran through him as he noticed the emotional state Harry was in. Wrapping his arms around the Gryffindor’s waist, he trailed kisses up the teenager’s neck and whispered softly in his ear, “I want to wait until after you kill Voldemort before we completely bond.”

Green eyes turned to silver ones and Harry asked why.

“Let’s just call it an incentive,” Draco smirked.

Harry blinked, and would have laughed with relief, except for the fact that his cock hadn’t gotten any release and so he was extremely tense with sexual frustration. And Harry knew that he would be for the rest of his natural life if he didn’t defeat Voldemort in the morning. Damn, but the Slytherin I chose as my mate is extremely infuriating. Then he grinned. At least now, the Gryffindor had something to truly fight for, instead of just upholding the image the wizarding world portrayed of him.

Chapter 9     Chapter Index     Chapter 11

Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: