Lost but Never Forgotten
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,419
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
3,419
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making any money off of this story, and it is not a direct reflection of my point of view, simply a work of fiction
In Waking
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J. K. Rowling. If they belonged to me the books would be so gruesome they would sell them with a warning label.
Lost but Never Forgotten
In Waking
Malfoy awoke early that morning to find Harry still tied up and unconscious. He smirked slightly at the memory of last night. Harry’s screams and pants were enough to make any man want to ravish him to a bloody pulp. Malfoy reached over and untied the boy quickly then summoned his house elf, Kreacher.
“Kreacher, clean him up and make sure his wounds are attended to. I want him ready for later.” The idea of the ‘later’ he would share with his little toy sound all too enticing for the young Death Eater. There was something about the boy that he found irresistible and almost addicting. The way he tasted slightly of sorrow however impossible that may sound had him diving in for more. His smell was that of a vast variety of outdoorsy odors, but the one scent that fully intrigued Malfoy was the potent smell of death and blood that seemed to linger around the boy.
“Mr. Malfoy are you alright?” Kreacher’s voice broke through his thoughts. He didn’t even notice that Kreacher had been rambling on and on about how the Malfoy’s were rightfully the most respected wizarding family in all of Britain and what not.
“Yes, Kreacher, I’m perfectly fine!” he responded a bit too aggressively. Kreacher backed off slightly at his master’s tone. “Just get him cleaned up by the time I get back.”
With that Malfoy got himself dressed in a black tank top, cloak, and loose fitted black pants and left the room to Kreacher and the unconscious Harry. As he walked down the halls of his mansion anger reverberated off him in waves causing any who got too close to flinch at the energy radiating from him.
‘Why am I thinking these things about, Potter? I am not attracted to him in any way. He is just a slave to me.’ Malfoy’s thoughts were confused and very frustrated, but the one thing they centered on was his new toy until one of his servants dared to address him.
“Mr. Malfoy, sir?” a small shaky voice spoke from behind him.
“What is it?” he shouted as he turned to face a small mousy nosed girl carrying a letter with the death eater’s seal on it.
“Th… this is for y… you.” He took the letter from her while telling her to get lost. She bowed deeply and scampered off in fear. Malfoy scowled for a while before he opened the letter. After reading who it was from, his scowl deepened. It was from Voldemort saying that he wished to have a private ‘meeting’ with Potter within two days.
Enraged by this news for some odd reason, Malfoy stormed back in the direction of his room cursing violently under his breath
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harry awoke to find the pain unbearable. His wrists, now clean of blood, were sore and bruised. A hand mark was printed on his neck from were Malfoy had grabbed him. His lower regions were by far the most abused part of his body. His bare penis was bruised all the way from the hilt to the head and his insides were pretty much torn apart by Malfoy’s so called mercy.
The only other thing apparent to him was the pain of the truth. The truth was that Malfoy had just, violently, taken his virginity. The only thing he had left to be thankful for was taken just like that by the hands of his worst enemy’s lap dog. Then came the even more gut wrenching truth that he had actually enjoyed the treatment to some extent. In some sick, psychotic way it had felt right that Malfoy be the one to take his innocence from him.
Reality is harsh isn’t it? The though made Harry so sick to his stomach he leaned over the bed and threw up the acids of his stomach. When he was finished heaving he heard a voice clear its throat. He looked up slightly to see his Godfathers forsaken house elf, Kreacher.
“Kreacher, what are you doing here?” A stupid question for him to ask considering the fact that he probably already knew.
“He is taking care of a worthless boy, who just made an even bigger mess on the floor for Kreacher to clean up.” Harry rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He hadn’t forgotten Kreacher’s utter distaste of him. Choosing to ignore Kreacher’s curses and complains, Harry stood up with difficulty wincing at the pain in his legs and the soreness of his nether regions. Another shudder coursed through his veins as he again recalled the incident.
Pushing back the memory, he forced himself to stand straight and head to the door he assumed to be the bathroom to clean his body of the dirty feeling he felt deep inside his heart and soul. Words could not describe what he was feeling towards himself. The disgust he was harboring filled his heart with and unhealthy rage. Upon reaching the door he opened it and stepped inside making sure to lock the door behind him so as to block all intruders.
“Never again” he thought as he climbed into the large tub and filled the bath with hot water. The sweet smell of strawberry vanilla bubble bath could be smelled throughout the bathroom.
________________________________________________________________________
“How dare he propose such a thing as that? That bastard won’t touch him!” Malfoy fumed as he walked down the hall to his room. “He is mine.” Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks. ‘Mine. Why, the hell, am I calling him mine?’ he though shocked at himself. Could it be that he was beginning to have feelings for the young wizard?
Yeah... right.
Voldemort can have him anyway he likes.
With this last thought, he continued down the hall finally reaching his door to smell the sweet smell of vanilla and strawberry. He noticed also steam rising from his bathroom from where the door was left ajar to his pleasure. Lust rose from deep within him once again as he pictured the naked Harry in the tub bathing. As silently as possible, he removed all his clothing and walked into the bathroom to be met by a sight too breathtaking to be real.
Harry’s head was resting against the rim of the tub. His green eyes were closed, and his damp flesh shimmered in the light from the lamp. Ebony locks of hair cascaded along the side of his face and down his neck. Toned muscles seemed to steam from the heat of the water.
A small gasp escaped Malfoy’s lips at the sight before him, his manhood throbbing painfully in a potent erection. Hearing the sound, Harry opened his eyes to see Malfoy standing there stark naked. Surprise momentarily filled his face until it was replaced by absolute fear as Malfoy began to approach him.
Harry turned his eyes away from Malfoy’s form, but he couldn’t withhold himself from sparing a glance at Malfoy bulging member, nor could he ignore the growing ache between his legs as Malfoy slipped into the bath and placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, massaging them gently.
“Why so tense, Potter? It’s only me.”
That in itself was an oxymoron. Although Harry knew it was wrong, he relaxed into the touch of Malfoy’s fingers working his muscles. This was the man who had raped him after all. This was Malfoy. His arch enemy. This was the guy who had hated his guts from the very beginning. He was the one who had killed Hermione. And yet here was in a very appealing situation with him. Naked in a tub, all alone, and very much aroused.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lost but Never Forgotten
In Waking
Malfoy awoke early that morning to find Harry still tied up and unconscious. He smirked slightly at the memory of last night. Harry’s screams and pants were enough to make any man want to ravish him to a bloody pulp. Malfoy reached over and untied the boy quickly then summoned his house elf, Kreacher.
“Kreacher, clean him up and make sure his wounds are attended to. I want him ready for later.” The idea of the ‘later’ he would share with his little toy sound all too enticing for the young Death Eater. There was something about the boy that he found irresistible and almost addicting. The way he tasted slightly of sorrow however impossible that may sound had him diving in for more. His smell was that of a vast variety of outdoorsy odors, but the one scent that fully intrigued Malfoy was the potent smell of death and blood that seemed to linger around the boy.
“Mr. Malfoy are you alright?” Kreacher’s voice broke through his thoughts. He didn’t even notice that Kreacher had been rambling on and on about how the Malfoy’s were rightfully the most respected wizarding family in all of Britain and what not.
“Yes, Kreacher, I’m perfectly fine!” he responded a bit too aggressively. Kreacher backed off slightly at his master’s tone. “Just get him cleaned up by the time I get back.”
With that Malfoy got himself dressed in a black tank top, cloak, and loose fitted black pants and left the room to Kreacher and the unconscious Harry. As he walked down the halls of his mansion anger reverberated off him in waves causing any who got too close to flinch at the energy radiating from him.
‘Why am I thinking these things about, Potter? I am not attracted to him in any way. He is just a slave to me.’ Malfoy’s thoughts were confused and very frustrated, but the one thing they centered on was his new toy until one of his servants dared to address him.
“Mr. Malfoy, sir?” a small shaky voice spoke from behind him.
“What is it?” he shouted as he turned to face a small mousy nosed girl carrying a letter with the death eater’s seal on it.
“Th… this is for y… you.” He took the letter from her while telling her to get lost. She bowed deeply and scampered off in fear. Malfoy scowled for a while before he opened the letter. After reading who it was from, his scowl deepened. It was from Voldemort saying that he wished to have a private ‘meeting’ with Potter within two days.
Enraged by this news for some odd reason, Malfoy stormed back in the direction of his room cursing violently under his breath
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Harry awoke to find the pain unbearable. His wrists, now clean of blood, were sore and bruised. A hand mark was printed on his neck from were Malfoy had grabbed him. His lower regions were by far the most abused part of his body. His bare penis was bruised all the way from the hilt to the head and his insides were pretty much torn apart by Malfoy’s so called mercy.
The only other thing apparent to him was the pain of the truth. The truth was that Malfoy had just, violently, taken his virginity. The only thing he had left to be thankful for was taken just like that by the hands of his worst enemy’s lap dog. Then came the even more gut wrenching truth that he had actually enjoyed the treatment to some extent. In some sick, psychotic way it had felt right that Malfoy be the one to take his innocence from him.
Reality is harsh isn’t it? The though made Harry so sick to his stomach he leaned over the bed and threw up the acids of his stomach. When he was finished heaving he heard a voice clear its throat. He looked up slightly to see his Godfathers forsaken house elf, Kreacher.
“Kreacher, what are you doing here?” A stupid question for him to ask considering the fact that he probably already knew.
“He is taking care of a worthless boy, who just made an even bigger mess on the floor for Kreacher to clean up.” Harry rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He hadn’t forgotten Kreacher’s utter distaste of him. Choosing to ignore Kreacher’s curses and complains, Harry stood up with difficulty wincing at the pain in his legs and the soreness of his nether regions. Another shudder coursed through his veins as he again recalled the incident.
Pushing back the memory, he forced himself to stand straight and head to the door he assumed to be the bathroom to clean his body of the dirty feeling he felt deep inside his heart and soul. Words could not describe what he was feeling towards himself. The disgust he was harboring filled his heart with and unhealthy rage. Upon reaching the door he opened it and stepped inside making sure to lock the door behind him so as to block all intruders.
“Never again” he thought as he climbed into the large tub and filled the bath with hot water. The sweet smell of strawberry vanilla bubble bath could be smelled throughout the bathroom.
________________________________________________________________________
“How dare he propose such a thing as that? That bastard won’t touch him!” Malfoy fumed as he walked down the hall to his room. “He is mine.” Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks. ‘Mine. Why, the hell, am I calling him mine?’ he though shocked at himself. Could it be that he was beginning to have feelings for the young wizard?
Yeah... right.
Voldemort can have him anyway he likes.
With this last thought, he continued down the hall finally reaching his door to smell the sweet smell of vanilla and strawberry. He noticed also steam rising from his bathroom from where the door was left ajar to his pleasure. Lust rose from deep within him once again as he pictured the naked Harry in the tub bathing. As silently as possible, he removed all his clothing and walked into the bathroom to be met by a sight too breathtaking to be real.
Harry’s head was resting against the rim of the tub. His green eyes were closed, and his damp flesh shimmered in the light from the lamp. Ebony locks of hair cascaded along the side of his face and down his neck. Toned muscles seemed to steam from the heat of the water.
A small gasp escaped Malfoy’s lips at the sight before him, his manhood throbbing painfully in a potent erection. Hearing the sound, Harry opened his eyes to see Malfoy standing there stark naked. Surprise momentarily filled his face until it was replaced by absolute fear as Malfoy began to approach him.
Harry turned his eyes away from Malfoy’s form, but he couldn’t withhold himself from sparing a glance at Malfoy bulging member, nor could he ignore the growing ache between his legs as Malfoy slipped into the bath and placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, massaging them gently.
“Why so tense, Potter? It’s only me.”
That in itself was an oxymoron. Although Harry knew it was wrong, he relaxed into the touch of Malfoy’s fingers working his muscles. This was the man who had raped him after all. This was Malfoy. His arch enemy. This was the guy who had hated his guts from the very beginning. He was the one who had killed Hermione. And yet here was in a very appealing situation with him. Naked in a tub, all alone, and very much aroused.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------