Monster.

Monster
Chapter 1
Summery: Harry’s inheritance finally comes and with it some very unexpected consequences. With his mind lost to the Dark and with no way to control him, Dumbledore does something drastic. Draco is only happy to oblige.

Draco pulled Harry’s head back by the top of his black hair.

“Don’t… fuck with me…” Draco breathed softly into Harry’s ear, his almost glowing silver eyes glinting sharply in the dark hallway.

Harry growled deep in his throat and his teeth snapped at Draco’s face. His green eyes had since gone black as the evil inside of him almost consumed him entirely. The shadows that draped the hallway flitted about nervously as their two masters battled the other for dominance.

“You will submit to me… you asshole,” ground out Draco and he kicked the back of Harry’s legs. Harry’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground in front of the moon-kissed teenager. Harry’s arms were still bound in a straitjacket and his head still in Draco’s grip. Harry struggled to stand but all it took was a swift kick from Draco’s boot in his side to stop all notions of that.

As Harry struggled to catch his breath, his cheek pressed against the ground, Draco walked slowly around him, studying him. His lust was peaked to see such a dominant creature submitted and bound before him. The extra-long straitjacket left a lot to the imagination as it help his arms tight against the front of his body and draped down his lower half. It would not be hard to fuck the smaller teen, especially if Harry had a body anything like Draco’s own –lean and thin with very little fat.

It helped that fucking his enemy would bring him some sort of absolution and agreement with Dumbledore: tame the beast and he could seek refuge at Hogwarts from a mad-man’s terrifying advance on the rest of the wizarding world. Though Dumbledore was smart- if he let this Dark go, those who defied either of the Darks would be killed and wizard and muggle-kind then extinct.

Harry’s puff of breath sent little specks of dust floating slowly across the floor and Draco pounced. Draco would never take the straitjacket off of the monster’s arms, but it would be easy enough to do the ritual with it on.

It didn’t quite matter that the ritual was dark in nature as the Headmaster had declared that such spells needed in wartime ‘for the greater good’ would do very little to compromise the moralization of the troops. Dumbledore was smart.

Keeping one hand firmly on the growling-again Dark’s back to hold him in place, Draco pulled down the stretchy psyche-ward pants to Harry’s knees. The growling as growing louder, but it was more of a last resort action as Draco could feel the fear burning a hole in his empathic shields. Even Harry’s hold on the shadows was getting weaker and weaker.

“You… have no idea how long I’ve… waited to do this to you… Potter,” Draco panted, Harry’s struggles getting more and more desperate as he realized just what was about to happen. A cuff to the back of the head and Harry’s hold on the shadows disappeared entirely and his growling was reduced to whimpers. Draco laughed lowly as he unzippered his own pants and slowly stroked himself.

“A long time.”

And suddenly it was over. The binding spell was finished and Harry laid on the ground, whimpering slightly, his eyes pressed closed, the back of his legs stained red. Draco had found in that moment he’d never felt more satisfaction than breaking his former nemesis.