Angel's Hell

Thank you all so much for the reviews and ratings! I’m so glad to see that people are enjoying the story so much. I want to dedicate this chapter to Nombre-De-Pluma whose reviews always make me smile!

Chapter Three

I practically ran from my Uncle’s car as we finally reached King’s cross train station. Just the thought of getting back to Hogwarts where I might be able to meet you again thrills me to the deepest recesses of my body and causes an uncharacteristic smile to bloom across my face. I drag my trunk through the station and ignore the covert looks from the wizards and witches around me while herding their children towards the hallowed and rather drafty halls of education.

They all strike me as pathetic little bugs scurrying around ducking their heads, acting suspicious while trying desperately to leach off of someone stronger to ensure their survival. They aren’t really worth anything and certainly haven’t endured themselves to me enough to risk my neck for their survival. Oh I know it’s a shock isn’t it? The golden boy of Hogwarts wants nothing to do with the world of magic except when it comes to his worst enemy. Oh the scandal of it all is just simply delicious isn’t it?

I’d never admit it aloud of course, I’ll be forever hiding behind this mask of mine as I stroll besides Weasley and listen with barely any attention to his prattle. I catch sight of his ickle little sister, Ginny and my eyes flash with emotion for a split second before I am able to contain it. I saw Malfoy’s father put a black book in her cauldron during the altercation with Arthur in the bookstore.

I can’t help but wonder if he was doing it on your behalf. I don’t in any way suspect him of being a closet altruist so I don’t think he gave her a journal out of the goodness of his shriveled little heart. I had managed to look at it one night when everyone was asleep and upon discovering the empty state of its pages was tempted to exchange it for a duplicate and unlock the mysteries myself. Fortunately for me, I’m smarter than that and will happily leave the task to Ginny, after all why risk my neck for the research when I can just stick around and wait for the end results.

I get to the barrier and am locked out with Weasley, dammit; it must be that ridiculous house elf! I want so badly to do the logical thing and wait for the eldest Weasleys to leave the magical platform and get us to Hogwarts sanely with notice to the teachers but I know that it is expected of me to be foolish and idiotic so I happily lead Ron along and let him jump to the conclusion that we should use his father’s car to fly to Hogwarts. Of course this means we are threatened by Snape, who must be one of yours and are saved by McGonagall.

I sigh happily as I sink down into my bed, for the first time my chest and arm don’t hurt as badly though my skin has yet to heal properly from the burns and cuts. I know I will be scarred again and I close my eyes and briefly imagine someone running their lips down my arm. I know it is you I am imagining; maybe someday I can really have you kiss me like I want.

The thought catches me like a punch to the gut and suddenly I cannot breathe. My eyes widen and I stare up at my canopy in shock as I consider what my subconscious always recognized.

I want you.

I bite my lip to stop the moan from escaping as warmth floods my body at the mere thought of having you with me right now. I run my injured arm down my body and slowly rub myself with my hand, the arcs of pain from the tenderness of my skin matching my pleasure jolt for jolt and my eyes cross before closing as I reach into my pants and touch myself skin to skin.

My breathing becomes shallow and quick, my mind bringing phantom images of you putting a body to the face and I smile at how hideous you are. You are here with me in my bed, lying next to me naked to my gaze as you watch me clutch at myself and stroke myself desperately. My arm feels on fire as it rubs against the edge of Dudley’s hand-me-down pajamas, the skin tearing in the more delicate spots allowing blood to slowly rise to the surface of the wounds.

My eyes widen as I feel the wetness on my stomach and I look down to find the blood smeared across the white of my skin. I smile and giggle so softly to myself that I can barely hear it myself but your ghost gives a returning smile to me as you let the blood pool in your palm and you reach for my cock. My hand follows yours and I arch up, wide eyed as the hot life fluid creates a better friction for my strokes.

I moan as you duck your head and suddenly my shirt is gone as you kiss the cuts on my chest, scrape your teeth against the welts on my shoulder and lap at the blood on my arm. I sob gently as you tear the scab off a self inflicted cut and I bite into my pillow as I release my passion and you fade away from me leaving me alone.

I stare at the spot you vanished from, tears welling in my eyes at the sudden reality of how alone I am one more. I turn on my side and curl into myself, absently realizing my shirt is still on my body and my arm isn’t bleeding nearly as bad as it had been in my dreams.

I stare down at my hand, covered in blood and passion and I weep. I just want you to hurt me.