The Fallen

This story is based on characters and situations owned by JK Rowling, and various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copywrite or trademark infringement is intended.

2/3

That night Harry has dinner with the Dark Lord. The whole experience for Harry is…surreal. He doesn’t feel anger, hate, or fear. He just…sits with the Dark Lord quietly, only speaking when spoken to, and distractedly picking at his meal.

“I’m going to give you to Bellatrix so she can have her wicked way with you.”

Harry blinks. Then blinks again. “Pardon?”

Voldemort chuckles before taking a sip of his wine. “I have asked you a few questions but you didn’t answer. I was gauging your attention span.”

“I…see.”

Voldemort chuckles again before placing his glass down on the table. “I will move you to the Malfoy suite until I have figured out what to do with you.”

“You’re not going to kill me?”

Voldemort frowns slightly at the look of pure curiosity on Potter’s face. The boy doesn’t look terrified, just curious. That is one reaction that Voldemort hasn’t garnered from another human being in more years than he can count. Usually it’s fear, or devotion, though more often than not it’s both. “No. I shall not kill you. Not unless you entice me to. I will leave you in Lucius’ care until I decide how to best use you for my cause.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

***

Lucius has Harry move into a suite adjacent to Draco’s. The suite has a shared bathroom for the boys and Lucius hopes that Draco will use the bathroom to his advantage. He knows that Draco likes boys and after having a quick run in with Draco’s diary he knows that his son has a thing for dark haired men. If Draco is anything like the Slytherin that Lucius knows him to be, he knows that his son will have Harry in his bed in less than a week. Lucius hopes this will take Harry’s mind off of the Weasley.

Having a Potter in the family can only bring good fortune, especially now that he knows his Lord will not kill Harry. He has to teach Harry his ways soon so that Voldemort won’t torture the boy. Sometimes the Dark Lord’s torture is worse than death.

“Well, Harry, I hope you enjoy your room. Draco’s is just through the adjacent bathroom door and Naricissa’s and my room is just down the hall. We usually have breakfast in the dining room at eight in the morning and lunch in the throne room with the Dark Lord. Severus usually joins us for dinner unless our Lord has asked for our presence elsewhere. Tomorrow I’ll have Draco give you a tour around the manor. It isn’t healthy to stay cooped up in one’s room.”

“I understand sir.”

“Call me Lucius, Harry.”

“Er…thank you, Lucius.”

Lucius gives Harry a soft pat on the back before exiting Harry’s new room.

***

“So Harry, is the Dark Lord everything you Gryffindors were afraid of.”

“No. He’s much scarier in person.”

Draco frowns at Harry in confusion, “What?”

“Not scary like that. It’s just…we always believed Voldemort to be a crazy megalomaniac, but he’s…”

“A tactician?”

“Yea. Something like that. Monsters may look scarier but they’re easier to kill.”

“Yes. I think I understand what you are saying.”

Harry nods his head to Draco before letting out a deep sigh, leaning back against the tree that he and Draco are sitting next to. “When I first came here I expected to be tortured. Killed. I never thought…I…”

“Shh, Harry. It’s ok,” Draco whispers to Harry, running his fingers through the dark strands.

For the past few weeks Harry and Draco had gotten to know each other, and had come to realize that they had much more in common than either of them had thought. Draco had even revealed to Harry that he never cared for the seeker position. In actuality Draco had preferred the position of chaser but his ultimate goal in life had been to thwart Harry Potter. This caused Harry to giggle and Harry told Draco that he had already done that due to his superior class grades and reluctantly Draco had agreed.

“Are you going back to Hogwarts?” Harry asks Draco abruptly as the thought of quidditch has him thinking about Hogwarts—his first home. There is a hint of nostalgia in Harry’s voice as he softly asks his question, because Harry knows that he will probably never set foot in the school again—not unless he’s in the middle of a battle.

“Why?” Draco asks Harry cheekily, raising an eyebrow in question. “Are you going to miss me?”

“Yes,” Harry replies without hesitation. Though Lucius and Narcissa are nice the only thing keeping Harry sane is Draco. Draco is a reminder of Harry’s old life and what he once had, and even though it is painful to think about, it keeps Harry going.

“Harry…I—”

“Shh,” Harry says as he moves closer to Draco. He presses his index finger to Draco’s pale lips, silencing him. Draco stares at Harry with wide eyes and as Harry moves his finger over Draco’s bottom lip Draco reaches up his hand, removing the tanned fingers away.

“Harry. I have to tell you something.”

Frantically Harry shakes his head from left to right as he inches his body closer to Draco’s. “Let’s not talk. We always talk.”

“Harry…” Draco says softly, sadly. Harry’s lips press into Draco’s. Perhaps Harry hadn’t heard, or perhaps he hadn’t wished to hear because Harry continues to kiss Draco, even though Draco sits stiffly next to him, unmoving. As the kiss proceeds from seconds into minuets Harry’s brain seems to finally realize that Draco isn’t kissing him back, he’s just…sitting there. Desperately Harry’s tongue leaves his mouth, swiping against Draco’s lips, eagerly trying to get the blond haired boy to respond. Draco does not. In anger Harry breaks the kiss.

“I thought you liked me?” Harry asks, tears falling from his eyes. Harry’s anger increases as only now does he realize that the anger is not at Draco, but at himself. Harry hates crying, but more than that he hates it when other people see him cry. It means that he is weak—a weak idiotic boy that Draco did not want, a foolish kiss that Draco had rejected, one that was about to ruin their newfound friendship. Harry wishes that the ground will swallow him whole.

“Harry, I do like you.”

“Then why? Why don’t you want me?”

“Harry,” Draco says, his voice holding as much devastation in it as Harry’s is. “I—I think that after what happened with Weasley…”

“I don’t want to think about him! I want to think about you!” In desperation Harry reaches for Draco’s trousers but Draco dodges the frantic fingers.

“Harry, you are still in love with Ronald Weasley.” Draco’s proclamation stops all of Harry’s movement.

The two boys stare at each other in silence before it is broken by a bitter laugh from Harry. “How can I love someone who doesn’t love me? You saw all of those things Ron wrote in the Daily Prophet about me. He doesn’t love me anymore and now I’m not sure if he ever did.”

“Harry, that doesn’t mean that you don’t still love him.”

Harry lets out a snarl of rage before he tackles Draco to the ground. Draco’s body goes limp as he prepares for Harry to attack him. As expected, Harry does attack Draco, just not the way in which Draco had anticipated. Harry is kissing Draco again.

Draco tries to twist his head away, but Harry is insistent. “Please, Draco, please,” Harry mumbles out against Draco’s lips. Draco can feel Harry’s tears on his cheeks. “Please, Draco. Make me forget. I need to forget. It hurts so much, Draco. I—I can’t keep living like this. I want to see Ron again, to apologize, to beg him to understand. But you read the Prophet—if he sees me again he’s going to kill me.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

In an instant Harry’s back is facing Draco. “I don’t understand. I could never intentionally hurt Ron. I—I don’t, I…how can he join the hunt for my head? Ron said, he said…”

“Shh, Harry. I know. It’s ok.”

Harry doesn’t even bother to shake his head. He just continues on as if Draco had never spoken. “He took an unbreakable vow in front of the Wizigamot—”

“I know Harry. I read the paper with you.”

“—that he would kill me if he ever got the chance. He said…”

“Harry, please.”

“…that he would do everything within his power to find me. And yet—”

“Harry, perhaps we should go back inside. I think—”

“I still love him.” Harry lets out a heart wrenching sob as he collapse to the ground. “I would do anything, give anything to save Ron.”

“You already did, Harry.”

Harry twists his neck so that his watery green eyes meet Draco’s equally watery ones. “How can I still feel this way? How can I still love him, after everything that happened? How, Draco?”

Draco smiles sadly at Harry as he wraps his arms around the shaking boy. “Harry, the only explanation I can come up with is the deep love that we witches and wizards hold for our families.”

“The Weasleys are my family. I would never do anything to hurt them.”

“Then why did you come here, Harry?” Instantly Harry jerks away from Draco but Draco doesn’t release Harry from his arms. “Harry, relax. I am just trying to make you understand. Even though the Weasleys are your family, your love for them has a hierarchy. At the top there is Ron and you did everything within your power to save him. I’m sure Ron feels that you are his family as well but like you there is also a hierarchy for his love. Based on his actions of the last few weeks I would say that you are at the bottom, and in order to protect the rest of his family he will sacrifice you. As you have sacrificed yourself to save him, so shall he sacrifice you in order to save them—his family, Harry. They were his family before he even knew you and no matter what happens between you and him they will always be his family.”

“Are you saying that if you had someone you loved, would you betray them in order to save your family?”

A look passes over Draco’s face so fast that Harry can’t identify the emotions. “Yes, Harry. Until we made a family of our own, my love for my parents would always supersede him.”

Harry stares at Draco intently before he nods his head softly. “I understand. I will never stop loving Ron. All I can do is start a family of my own so that Ron will be at the bottom of the hierarchy. Is that right, Draco?”

Draco gives Harry a sad smile before he reaches his arm up, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the nearly dried tears from Harry’s face. “That’s exactly right, Harry.”

Harry returns Draco’s smile with a genuinely happy one of his own before he raises his head, softly pressing his lips to Draco’s. In less than a second Draco turns his head to the side, disconnecting Harry’s lips from his own. Harry frowns. “Draco, what is it? I thought that you liked me? I mean, didn’t we have this conversation so that you would make sure you’re not on the bottom of my ‘hierarchy of love’?”

“Harry…”

“You don’t have to worry about me still loving Ron. I know I can love you more than him.”

“Harry, it’s not about that. It’s…Harry I—I’m in love.”

“Are you telling me that you want to have a bonding first? I’m not a virgin, Draco. You don’t have to treat me like one.”

“No, Harry. Listen to me,” Draco raising his arms to Harry’s shoulder, forcing Harry to look him in the eyes. Harry does so with confusion clouding his green eyed stare. “I am in love with…Severus Snape.”

***

“Draco, where is Harry?” Lucius asks his son as he sits down at the dinner table. Draco has a wild look about him and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Father, I—I can’t find him. We had a…slight disagreement earlier and he ran off. I thought that it would be best if I gave him some time alone, but that was hours ago! I didn’t say anything because I was sure he’d show up for dinner…”

“Draco, slow down. I can hardly understand you, you’re talking so fast. Now when was the last time you saw Harry?”

“When we left after lunch for our walk.”

“That long?”

Draco sniffs softly as he nods his head. Lucius frowns in concern but when he hears footsteps coming from the suite entrance both him and Draco look up with anticipation. The hope is squashed instantly however, when the dark hair is too lank and greasy to be Harry’s.

“What is going on?” Severus asks in alarm as he takes in the agitated form of Draco.

“Harry is missing. We must alert our Lord immediately.”

“Don’t be too hasty, Lucuis,” Severus says quickly as he sits down at the table. “We shouldn’t anger the Dark Lord unnecisarily. Out Lord’s wards are impenetrable, Harry could not have left the grounds. We should split up to look for him. I’m sure he’ll be easy enough to find—most of the manor is restricted and off limits so there isn’t too many places he can be. Only and if we cannot find the boy, then we shall ask for our Lord’s assistance.”

Lucius nods in agreement before telling Narcissa who was in the other room about the situation. Severus suggest that someone should stay in their quarters just in case Harry arrives at the suite. Lucius decides that Draco should stay though his son does put up much resistance. Severus is the one to finally get him to agree, and when the trio leaves Draco’s eyes are more bloodshot than ever.

***

Lord Voldemort is angry and he can’t figure out why. Well, he knows why he is angry, what he can’t figure out is the emotion behind his anger. Earlier as the Dark Lord was strolling across the grounds he had run across the sight of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in a tryst. He had been too far away to hear anything that was said but even from across the distance he could see Potter rubbing his finger across Malfoy’s lip with affection. He could see Draco rising up his hand to stop the soft touch and then, the image burned to the back of his eyelids—Draco and Potter kissing.

Just the memory brought a red hot fire of anger to his chest. The unmistakable platinum blond hair of the Malfoy line is something Lord Voldemort can never forget. Yet it isn’t the notorious pale hair of the Malfoy’s, but Potter’s dark hair, almost as black as his own that brings up the abandoned memory. A memory of decades long forgotten, of a similar tryst though this one on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The memory is of a younger, much more innocent Dark Lord, though at that time Tom Riddle hadn’t even had the aspirations of being a Dark Lord. It is the memory of Lord Voldemort when he still responded to the name Tom Riddle, the memory of Tom Riddle on Hogwarts school grounds with Abraxas Malfoy.

In this memory that had suddenly been resurrected in the Dark Lord’s mind, Voldemort can see himself in Abraxas arms. He can see the smile of pleasure on his face as he mistakes the friendship that Abraxas has with him as something more. He can see himself as he throws his arms around the pale blond, the shock on Abraxas face that Voldemort had refused to acknowledge as he presses his lips to those of Abraxas Malfoy.

The kiss was utter bliss. Even the memory, shrouded in decades of decay from being abandoned, brings Voldemort to a stop as he raises his fingers to his lips, just…remembering. The kiss, his first kiss, with his first and only love. And he had been rejected. He remembers Abraxas painful words, “I’m sorry, Tom. I love you but I’m in love with someone else. I want you to be happy but all we can be is friends,” or something like that.

The memory ends and Voldemort realizes some of his anger is that Potter, without even trying, had won the love of a Malfoy. Voldemort had tried everything, everything to get Abraxas to notice him, to like him, and when he had finally succeeded, all was for naught because Abraxas didn’t even like boys, but worse than that, Abraxas was in love. Love, of all things, but not with him.

It had been a painful realization and from that moment forward Lord Voldemort had closed off his heart. Yes he was still friends with Abraxas, and remained friends with the blond until his untimely death, yet never again had Voldemort been as vulnerable as that one night with Malfoy.

This is why Lord Voldemort is so angry. Because Potter had beaten him. Again. Where Lord Voldemort had failed, Potter had succeeded for he had bagged his Malfoy and the only thing that the Dark Lord had left was a distant memory better left forgotten. Nostalgia is the one emotion that the Dark Lord detest above all. Love is a close second, but at least that emotion holds power, unlike nostalgia which only proves to cripple the recipient as they waste there time on what ifs and memories long pasted and best forgotten. The exact thing that the Dark Lord is doing now.

Yet, even knowing this the Dark Lord continues down the long path of nostalgia, that is until his thoughts and memories are interrupted by painful moaning. Voldemort blinks in the non existent light from the pale slither of moon. The full moon had been only two nights ago so there was no natural light to be had on the grounds.

“Lumus,” the Dark Lord drawls once he has his yew wand out of his robe and into his hand. The Dark Lord blinks in shock as he takes in the crippled form of Harry Potter.

***

Draco yanks the door open instantly when he hears footsteps outside his family’s suite. Desperately he hopes it is Harry but his hopes are dashed when he sees Severus. “What is it, Professor? Why did you come back? Do you have any news on where Harry could be?”

“Draco,” Severus says sadly as he steps into his suite. “Harry has been found.”

“Why isn’t he with you?”

“I was not the one that found him.”

“Was it Father? Is he with him now?”

“Draco,” Severus walks up to the pale boy, taking his shoulders in his hands. “It was our Lord who found Mr. Potter. He is in…grave condition, and will be staying in his previous room until he heals. I have already administered a few potions but more thorough healing will need to be done.”

Draco’s knees weaken in shock at the words coming from Severus’ mouth and he is sure that he would have hit the floor if not for Severus’ strong arms holding him up. “What happened? Was he attacked?”

Severus shakes his head in the negative as he leads Draco to one of the couches. He sits Draco down on the couch and is forced to stay with the boy as Draco refuses to remove his arms from around Severus’ person. “No, he was not attacked. He…jumped off of the East Tower.”

Draco sucks in a sharp gasp of breath that he releases from his chest on a sob. Large tears fall from his eyes down his pale cheeks as his grip tightens around Severus. “He jumped because of me! It’s my fault…I—”

“Draco, no one could have foreseen these events.”

“No, you don’t understand—”

“Take your filthy hands off of my son this instant.”

Severus is up from the couch in less time than it takes to blink and across the room, hands raised up in surrender. “Lucius…?”

“Shut up,” Lucius says as he raises his wand in the direction of Severus’ throat. “While my son attended Hogwarts did you ever touch him inappropriately?”

Severus’ mouth opens in shock as he stares at the Malfoy patriarch. “What?”

“Just answer the question!”

“No.”

Lucius stares Severus in the eyes before he flings Draco’s diary across the room. “I don’t believe you.”

“What is this?” Severus asks in question as he cautiously bends down to pick up the leather journal.

“That,” Lucius spits out, “is my son’s diary. And written within it’s pages is very descriptive details of all the illicit things you’ve done with him. If you did not belong to our Lord first and foremost I would kill you were you stand.”

“I told you, Lucius, I have done nothing inappropriate with Draco.”

“Lies!”

“Father,” Draco says as he raises himself up from the couch, cheeks wet from tears. “Severus is telling the truth.”

“You don’t have to lie to cover for him, Draco. I’ve read the diary, not the whole thing but enough to incriminate Severus. I won’t let him hurt you, son. You’ll never have to be in the same room with him again.”

“No, Father, you don’t understand. Those thing written in my diary, those aren’t things that have happened, those are things that I…that I dream about. I am in love with Severus and I dream about belonging to him every night.” Even in the tense situation Draco blushes red as he says all of that in front of not only his Father but his love.

Lucius stares at Draco in shock. “But, I—those things written in your diary is s&m, Draco. I knew you fancied boys but I thought you were a top.”

Draco shakes his head in the negative though his full attention is on Severus. After Draco’s revelation Severus hasn’t said a thing. His face is paler than Draco has ever seen. “I—” Severus clears his throat. “I must be going. I have to procure some potions for the Dark Lord, healing potions for Harry. I—I really must be going.”

Draco opens his mouth in protest to stop Severus’ departure but before a sound can leave his pale lips the Potions Master is gone.

“Draco…”

Draco turns his back to his Father. His shoulders shake in hurt and rage. “How could you?”

“Draco what was I to think? Any parent would have done the same thing!”

“How could you?”

“Draco…”

“He hates me now! He never wants to look at me again! I love him and because of you he’ll never want to be with me!”

“Draco you don’t know that, besides, I thought you were with Harry.”

“Me and Harry are just friends. I love him but I’m in love with Severus. I want to belong to him but he’ll never have me now. Not that he would anyway but at least at first I had a chance…a very small chance.”

“Draco, I know you are embarrassed but this is not the end of the world.”

Draco shakes his head in the negative. “Did you see his face? He was disgusted. Disgusted with me. I never told him how I felt because I know he can never love me. I fell into one of his pensives before. Even today he’s still in love with Harry’s Mother. I knew this, but, I—even knowing there was always that small hope, that one day he would look at me as something other than his student, something more. Part of his love for Lily was her love for potions so I made sure I loved them more. Anything, but nothing was enough. And now, now I can’t even coax him into loving me because you’ve blown it all up in his face!”

As Lucius tries to calm down his son, telling him that it will be alright and that he would speak with Severus on the morrow, neither of the Malfoy males noticed that Draco’s leather diary was gone.

***

When Harry comes to consciousness everything hurts. As he opens his eyes it seems as if his pupils are burning. “Grrr,” Harry groans helplessly as he squints to lessen the pain.

“Finally awake, Potter.”

Harry turns his head in the direction of the voice, instantly regretting the movement as all of Harry’s surroundings goes blurry. A minute of stillness and Harry’s vision clears enough so that he can identify the anonymous voice. Voldemort.

“Where am I?” Harry asks, voice croaking with disuse. The Dark Lord snorts in displeasure as he hands a glass of water to Harry. Though Harry manages to spill more than half of the glass on his chest he drinks enough so that when he next speak his voice is clear of its previous hoarseness. “How am I still alive? I jumped…”

“Yes, Potter. You jumped off of the East Tower. I was the one who happened upon your disfigured body.”

“I—I don’t understand. How am I—”

“Still alive? I have very intricate wards around this manor to prevent any death that I have not caused or sanctioned. It is to prevent my Death Eaters from becoming overly excited and killing one of the prisoners that I need for future use. It also prevents suicide.”

“I see,” Harry says softly, bitterness and pain coating his voice at his botched attempt. There is a short silence before Harry speaks again. “Voldemort, it hurts…”

“I will have Severus bring you a pain potion.”

“No!” Harry yells as he desperately grabs the end of Voldemort’s crimson robe. If there was anyone Harry didn’t want to see it was Severus, and Draco. Harry didn’t know if he could ever face Draco again. “Please, it hurts. I need…”

“Potter, if you do not want me to retrieve Severus then there is no way that I can help you.”

“Please,” Harry mumbles out desperately, green eyes meeting red. “Please, it hurts so much. I just want to forget. Forget everything. Ron, Draco…”

Voldemort snorts as he snatches his robe from Potter’s grasp. “Malfoy left you for someone else, Potter. How does it feel to be rejected, to know you’re not good enough? That you will never be good enough.” Harry lets out a sob of pain as he curls in on his side. “How does it feel, Potter,” Voldemort says as he sits down on the bed next to Harry, lowering his head so that he can whisper into the boy’s ear. “How does it feel to beg, to plead with the Dark Lord, the man that killed your parents to take you out of your pain? How does it feel, Harry?”

“Please,” Harry moans out brokenly.

“Are you begging for me to kill you, or to fuck you, Potter?”

“Please.”

“No, I won’t kill you,” the Dark Lord says as he rubs the tip of his yew wand up and down Harry’s shaking form. “I’ll fuck you, Potter. I’ll make you wish that you were dead. But I’ll give you what you want—I’ll make you forget. Do you want that…Harry?”

“…”

“Speak up Potter. I can’t hear you.”

“…yes.”

Voldemort smiles a sinister smile of pleasure down at Harry as he whispers a spell that not only causes Potter to lose his clothing, but a spell that has the boy’s wrist and ankles tied down to the bed as well. “Once I begin I’m not going to stop, Potter. No matter how much you beg, or plead, or cry, I’m not going to stop. I’m going to fuck you until you bleed, Potter. And then I’m going to keep fucking you. I’m going to fuck you until you pass out and then I’m going to keep fucking you until you wake back up.”

“Will I forget?” Harry asks softly as he stares at Voldemort with wide green eyes.

Voldemort smirks down at him before he brushes Harry’s dark bangs away from his face, exposing his lightning bolt shaped scar. Curiously Voldemort presses a finger to Harry’s scar and involuntarily Harry’s body shudders and twist as he tries to avoid the burning touch. Voldemort’s smirk grows. “Oh yes, Harry. You will forget everything, everything, until the only thing left in your consciousness is me.”

“Yes,” Harry gasps out through his pain. “Yes, please…Tom, I—”

The sharp slap to Harry’s face has his head spinning. “You will not address me as Tom or Voldemort, only as my Lord or as Master. Do you understand, Potter?”

“Yes…my Lord.”

“Excellent,” Voldemort says as he divests himself of his clothing. When Harry eyes Voldemort’s naked body with wide eyes of curiosity the Dark Lord grunts in amusement. “Even if Severus hadn’t restored my body to its previous state before that damnable Avada Kadavra I would still need at least three hundred more years before I even began to look like Albus Dumbledore.”

Even in Harry’s vulnerable state he can’t help the soft laugh that escapes him. Voldemort smiles down at Harry in genuine humor before he forcibly removes the smile from his face. This is definitely not the time to think about Dumbledore, not when he had Harry Potter tied down to the bed, ready to give himself to the Dark Lord as some innocent virgin for a ritual would. Well, Potter wasn’t too innocent, and he definitely wasn’t a virgin, but the Dark Lord would enjoy this just as much as any ritual he had every partaken in with the innocent flesh of youth.

“If you are prepared?” Voldemort asks Harry in warning, the only warning he will give to the boy. Harry is barely done nodding his head ‘yes’ before Voldemort attacks.

The first thing Voldemort does is attach himself to one of Harry’s dusky nipples, brutally biting the flesh as he twist the other one cruelly between thumb and forefinger. Harry moans out pitifully in pain, however, the green eyed boy arches his body up into the brutal attentions of the Dark Lord.

“Please,” Harry moans out, tears leaking from his eyes. “Please.”

“My pleasure,” Voldemort mutters against Harry’s tanned, hairless chest.

Harry gasps out sharply as Voldemort proceeds to do exactly what he promised Harry he would—make him forget. Indeed the Dark Lord nearly makes Harry forget his own name as he uses Harry’s body for his own pleasure. All Harry can do is hang on to the thin strand of consciences as Voldemort turns his flesh into a canvass for his wicked pleasure, splashing the tanned parchment with the bright red color of Harry’s blood.


As Voldemort uses Harry’s body mercilessly Harry is sure he’s about to pass out as everything was getting blurry on the edges and the pain Harry is in seems further and further away. That notion, however, is squashed when a pain like no other invades Harry’s body. Harry twitches and thrashes around wildly as his body tries to escape the all consuming force. When the intense feeling leave his limps Harry’s eyes are wide open and staring into those of the Dark Lord’s.

“I couldn’t very well have you going asleep, Potter,” Voldemort chuckles out as he lifts his arm, breaking off the crucio. Harry continues to stare at Voldemort in silence and the Dark Lord chuckles again before he lowers his head to Harry’s forehead, softly kissing the bright red scar. Instantly Harry’s body twitches though the tremors are not as powerful as those induced by the cruciatus.

“I believe it’s high time for you to get penetrated. What do you think, Potter?” Voldemort asks curiously as he takes in the abused and battered form of the once hero.

“Yes,” Harry gasps out, clutching the bed sheets in pain. “…yes.”

“Would you like for me to prepare you Potter, or fuck you dry?”

“I—I don’t know. I…you decide, my Lord.”

Voldemort smirks in pleasure down at Harry before he whispers out a spell that coats the inside of Harry’s anus with slick lubricant. Truthfully the spell is for Voldemort as he does not wish to fuck his cock raw. Voldemort unspells Harry’s legs so that they rest on the Dark Lord’s shoulders before, without any other type of preparation, he sheaths himself fully into the boy.

Harry’s lets out a loud moan of pain as his body tenses from the forced entry. Voldemort just grunts at the tight heat before he begins to pound himself furiously into Potter’s slender form. Harry groans incoherently at the intense pain yet his body arches into Voldemort’s, hips raising to meet the forceful thrusts of the Dark Lord.

“Please,” Harry gasps out, “please.”

“Yes,” Voldemort grunts out as his cock pushes into Harry’s body with less resistance due to the blood flowing from the boy’s anus. When he looks down at Harry he can see the boy’s eyes are shut tightly though that doesn’t stop the tears from leaking out. Harry’s cheeks are flushed a deep red and his breathing is labored. When Voldemort finds Harry’s prostrate Harry lets out a long moan of mixed pleasure and pain as his arse tightens painfully around the Dark Lord’s cock.

Voldemort speeds up his thrusts, continuing his brutal assault on Harry’s prostrate. The Dark Lord moves his arms out of the way so Harry’s legs fall from his shoulders, instead resting around his waist where the boy proceeds to tighten his legs around the Dark Lord, pulling Voldemort closer.

The new position allows the Dark Lord to feel Harry’s cock on his belly and he is surprised to feel the flesh heavy and hard, pulsing against the dark hair scattered on Voldemort’s chest. Voldemort grins in pleasure as he lowers one hand, tightly gripping the appendage as he uses his other hand to brandish his wand. He strokes Potter’s hot flesh, once, twice, and when the moans leaving Harry turn from pain to unmistakable pleasure, the Dark Lord flicks his wand as he mutters out crucio.

Harry flounders around like a fish out of water, all of his limbs shuddering in deep pain as Voldemort keeps his wand leveled on the boy. All of Harry’s thrashing around has the boy’s arse tightening more than ever and it is less than half a minute of the unforgivable before Voldemort is cuming deep into the twitching flesh of Harry’s arse.

The orgasm is so intense that the Dark Lord drops his wand, thus causing the spell to end though it doesn’t stop the twitching of Harry’s limbs. Only after Voldemort has come down from his high does he notice that the stickiness between his and Harry’s chest is not sweat, but cum. Harry’s cum.

Tbc..

a/n though this story is meant to only be three parts I may add an epilogue, I’m not sure yet though…anyway, hope you all enjoyed : )