Bound by Hatred

DRIFTING

Harry never set out to have Potions accidents. He was all too aware that one wrong test in the Hospital Wing and Madame Pomfrey would find out about Draco and that would harm Draco Malfoy. Nor did he intend to slip from his broom.

He never tried to have accidents, but they started happening.

There was something not exactly satisfying, but not entirely horrible about hearing his legs crunch beneath him when he fell thirty feet from his broom. He lay on the ground disoriented, watching the shadowy figures above him in the air. He had some vague recollection of Draco raping him with his broomstick once after he\'d beaten the other boy at a match, but no emotion accompanied the memory.

A week later he was kicked off the Quidditch team for his poor grades. But it didn\'t bother him, really.

Another time in Potions, there was something he couldn\'t call nice, but he couldn\'t label unpleasant when a beaker of powerful acid spilled over his chest. As Harry lay on the floor, Snape screaming at him as he splashed him with a counter-agent, he hoped it might dissolve through his chest and destroy his heart. But it didn\'t, and Snape yelled at him for being careless.

Some time later, Draco again entertained himself by forcing him to come. He stared afterwards at his limp penis and wondered if he could pour the acid over it, and dissolve it, too.

Strange fantasies such as that filled his thoughts from day to day. He would walk places without realizing his feet were moving as he indulged in them. Sometimes he found himself in the forbidden forest. Another time, he came to himself when Hagrid was lifting him bodily from the pen of one of the manticores. The half-giant informed Harry that he was lucky the manticore had still been asleep, or it would have ripped his head right off. And anyway-- why wasn\'t Harry in class? Harry had simply shrugged.

He didn\'t really notice when others talked to him now, or even about him in front of him. Hermione, Neville, and Ron were all shadows to him. He dismissed as white noise the warnings by the teachers that he was failing all his classes. He forgot half the detentions he\'d been assigned, and often had to be hunted down by Filch in order to attend them. He missed most of his classes entirely without realizing it.

He even felt strangely serene the few times Dumbledore summoned him to his office for a chat, probing Harry with his legilimency skills for some odd reason, and finding no purchase amidst the strange peace over Harry\'s mind. Why Dumbledore looked increasingly worried at Harry\'s success would have baffled the boy had he been more aware of the world around him.

Now, he simply didn\'t care.

He mechanically followed Draco\'s orders, didn\'t bother trying to run when the blonde found him. When Draco told him exactly how he wanted Harry to suck him off-- how to lick, how to stroke-- he obeyed, and he no longer felt like he was dying inside. He just felt nothing. Even when Draco punched him to try to rouse some defiance, he endured it passively.

And somehow, he continued to unfailingly add that one ingredient that turned his potion into a blazing, lethal mess, without even intending to do so.

He wasn\'t trying to poison himself, Harry informed Snape earnestly. The professor had confronted him the second time he\'d been forced to snatch a poisonous concoction from Harry\'s hands just inches from the boy\'s lips. The third time, Snape slapped the glass vial from his hands, grabbed him by the collar, and brutally threw Harry out into the hallway, ordering him in a voice of thundering fury not to darken the doorstep of the Potions classroom again.

Harry accepted it neutrally and didn\'t return.

He supposed he should have been more horrified, the day he finished sucking Draco off in the Room of Requirement and heard someone applaud in the corner. His first emotion was, indeed, something along the lines of fear and shame. But as he tried to flee, the fingers still twining in his hair reminded him that he was a non-entity in this situation, so Harry\'s horror died down as Draco grinned at Blaise Zabini\'s clear admiration.

\"See? And you thought I was making it up!\" Draco cried.

Harry stared off into the distance with glazed eyes, barely noticing the bag of galleons Blaise tossed Draco\'s way.

\"Merlin. The Boy Who Lived sucking your cock. He looks like he\'s good at it, too,\" Blaise noted enviously, staring intently at Draco\'s cum still clinging to Harry\'s lips.

Harry didn\'t even feel much of anything days later when unfamiliar hands grabbed him in the hallway, and Blaise ushered him into a secluded alcove.

\"You know, Harry,\" Blaise whispered against his ear. \"I know all about what Draco did to you. If I told someone, it would probably… I dunno, harm Draco Malfoy.\"

Harry stared at him, and Blaise licked his lips nervously before fumbling with his own belt buckle.

\"But I won\'t, if you give me a reason not to.\"

Harry stared at him. Was this really happening all over again?

But as Blaise\'s hand in his hair pulled his lips against the soft head of his erection, Harry knew that yes, it was. The same spell that enslaved him to Draco forced him to obey Blaise, to prevent him from doing something that would harm Draco Malfoy.

Perhaps a month ago it would have occurred to Harry to murder the other boy; he would never tell anyone then.

But there was nothing left of him worth fighting for, and Harry had long been aware there was no hope in this world for him. He felt nothing but that cold apathy as he took Blaise into his mouth.

* * *

Whether Draco knew or not what Blaise was doing-- and in a vague, detached way, Harry suspected he did not-- he always seemed to choose the worst moments to jolt Harry out of his blessed apathy by drawing some response from the other boy. Blaise was always horribly intent on stroking Harry\'s cock while he was inside him, and as humiliating as the inevitable reaction was, it was nothing compared to Draco doing the same thing to him the same night-- fucking him carefully enough to make Harry spurt over the carpet.

It was after that horrible incident that Harry decided to eliminate his problem forever. He could stop the bleeding afterwards; no one would have to know. He conjured a steak knife and trudged out beyond the Quidditch Pitch.

It was simultaneously debilitatingly painful and deliciously empowering when he first thrust the knife in, but before he could saw at it in earnest, a hand wrapped around his wrist and yanked Harry\'s arms behind his back.

He didn\'t bother to struggle in Snape\'s grip, nor could he do much other than stare up at the sky while Snape evaluated critically the damage Harry had inflicted upon his own penis.

\"Have you lost your mind, Potter?\" Snape demanded before incanting a healing spell. He retreated a step to gaze at Harry sternly, apparently unaware of his bag of potions ingredients crunching underfoot where he\'d cast it aside on the ground.

The pain receded from Harry\'s consciousness, and he looked down at himself. Now that he thought about it, he supposed there were many reasons not to castrate himself. He did still have some unbreakable attachment to that thing, however much humiliation it caused him. But he\'d still rather see it gone than let it do that horrible thing to him again.

And then he felt the first genuine embarrassment in weeks, knowing his bits were hanging out right in front of Professor Snape.

\"It was an accident,\" Harry said, drawing his hand down to cover it.

\"That was no accident!\" Snape spat, grasping his arms and shaking him violently. \"TELL ME THE TRUTH, POTTER!\"

Harry could offer no better explanation. Snape threw him roughly to the ground, as if disgusted. Harry flinched slightly when the man incanted a spell.

\"That will prevent you from harming yourself until the Headmaster has you evaluated by Saint Mungo\'s,\" Snape informed him coldly. \"Do not think I\'m fool enough to believe those incidents in Potions class were mere coincidences.\"

Harry pulled up his pants from where they rested bloodstained about his ankles. It only now occurred to him that he might have harmed Draco Malfoy, letting himself get caught in the process of castrating himself. But he hadn\'t intended to; he\'d only wanted to rid himself of the shame.

\"It was nothing, sir. It was an accident.\"

He said the words because Draco\'s spell compelled him to fumble for a good lie. Snape\'s probing glance, and his clear attempt at legilimency, were easily rebuffed because Harry felt no turbulent emotions that would carry the other man into his thoughts.

His new mastery of Occlumency only seemed to infuriate Snape, and his professor lanced forward, grasping his arm.

\"Come with me right now!\"

* * *

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were watching him worriedly. Snape fumed in the corner of the Headmaster\'s Office. Dumbledore was informing Harry regretfully that Saint Mungo\'s would not be nearly safe enough to shelter him from Voldemort, even if Harry\'s state of mind continued to degenerate in this manner; he also couldn\'t legally shelter Harry at Hogwarts if he failed his classes. After Hagrid\'s expulsion and subsequent employment, the ministry had instituted magical measures to prevent future expelled pupils from remaining on the premises.

\"Do you understand what he\'s saying, Harry?\" McGonagall asked softly. \"If this behavior persists, you\'ll be expelled. You\'ll have to leave here, and you won\'t be allowed to return.\"

Expelled.

\"We can call Remus Lupin if you\'d like. Or do you want Molly Weasley to pay a visit?\" Professor McGonagall asked him urgently. \"We just need you to talk to someone about what\'s been bothering you lately.\"

\"I\'m fine. Really,\" Harry answered levelly, and then thought to smile.

\"You\'re clearly not fine, Mr. Potter!\" said Snape scathingly. \"Any fool could see that! Even your bloody Gryffindor friends have noticed your preposterous--\"

\"Enough, Severus,\" Dumbledore said soothingly.

Snape fell silent, his eyes flashing.

\"Harry,\" Dumbledore said, folding his hands, his kind blue eyes without their usual twinkle. \"We\'re all very worried about you. You haven\'t been yourself in a long time. Is there anything you have to tell me?\"

Harry smiled emptily. \"No, sir.\" Then, as an afterthought, \"But thanks for your concern.\"

* * *

They clapped him in the hospital wing to be observed for three days, but since the term was nearly over, they eventually returned him to the populace in the hope that he\'d somehow miraculously pass his exams.

It occurred to him later as he skipped DADA how wonderful it would be if they expelled him. He\'d go back to the Dursleys where nobody thought to bother with him. No one would hurt him, he\'d be able to forget forever the horrible things he\'d done here. The people he loved would never find out what an awful person he was. And Draco would never bother looking for him there.

He wouldn\'t have to be a wizard or a savior. He could just go hide away in his dark little room and no one would ever care again.

Harry smiled, his eyes closed, thinking about it.

There would be no one to watch him on Privet Drive to make sure he ate, like various Gryffindors and faculty had begun to do after his last Quidditch accident had revealed how malnourished he\'d become. Harry ate now, because he knew their scrutiny was undesirable. It could harm Draco Malfoy. But Draco would not be at Privet Drive.

With the Dursleys, he could let himself waste away, and no one would see him. He could just disappear. Wouldn\'t that be so wonderful? To simply vanish?

It was the only hope he had left.

He was thinking about his imminent expulsion again later, sucking Draco\'s cock. He was still thinking about it when he left Draco\'s room in his invisibility cloak, and when he reached Blaise\'s room and sucked his. He couldn\'t even muster any other thoughts when Draco entered unexpectedly and started screaming at them both.

\"I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU WERE FUCKING AROUND ON ME!\"

\"Look, you\'re just going to have to get used to the idea of sharing,\" Blaise informed Draco smugly. \"Cause you know what? I can tell a few other people about this, or I can tell a whole lot of people about this. Which one, Draco?\"

Draco stared at him in rage and betrayal, then shot Harry a look of absolute hatred.

\"You little shit,\" he breathed. \"How dare you!\"

Harry didn\'t know why he was so angry, nor did he understand it days later when Crabbe was let in on the secret as well. Draco glared on intently while the other two Slytherins fucked Harry.

It was okay that Draco was angry, and crueler than usual, because he knew was that he was going to be expelled soon, and everything would be fine after that. Soon enough, he could go back to the Dursleys and rot, and no one would be the wiser for it.

The beautiful prospect of expulsion was at the back of his mind even the next morning when Snape slipped veritaserum in his pumpkin juice and questioned him about why he\'d been mutilating himself. Harry was surprised to discover Draco\'s spell gave him the power to resist the truth serum; he\'d heard that very powerful wizards could discover ways to defeat it. Perhaps the need to protect Draco gave him the proper motivation.

And protect Draco he would, just until he was sent away. And then it would all be fine and no one would see him ever again.

Yet his hopes were never to materialize.

Two days later, Blaise\'s door burst off its hinges, and three startled Slytherins looked in alarm as their Head of House stalked through the doorway. They roughly fumbled with their pants. Harry had no chance to cover himself. His clothes had been tossed somewhere across the room.

He hunched down into the rug, the numbness unexpectedly dissolving, shame and horror boiling back to horrible life. He was naked, he still had semen dripping from his ass, and now Snape was staring at him.

Snape could see him.

Someone other than Draco and his predatory friends had found out the terrible secret-- that Harry was a horrible, dirty person.

More than at any other moment, he wanted to be sick. He wanted to die. He wanted to scream. But if he started screaming now, he wouldn\'t stop... He knew that. And if he lived to be a thousand, he\'d still feel Snape\'s horrible gaze on his filthy body.

It was only then that Harry knew he\'d overcome the truth serum to protect himself.

End Part 10