Madame Scarlet's

Authors Note: A million thanks to Laurel for beta'ing this story for me. I left you guys hanging a bit last time, so here is some more raunchy goodness to tide you over. lol

Chapter 4 Tainted Lust

As soon as Draco walked through the Potions classroom door he knew his life had changed. There was no way he could describe how he knew, or even in what way things would change for him but he knew it was irrevocable and massive. There before him, naked and pleasuring the most feared and hated professor at the school –even if he was Draco’s personal mentor- was none other that Harry Potter. It was such a compromising position that his Slytherin tendencies kicked in and he momentarily considered an elaborate blackmail scheme, but his libido won out and he knew that when it was all over he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on where blackmail was concerned.

Draco shut the door quickly behind him, trying to ignore the fact that he was instantly rock hard from the sight before him and cleared his throat to announce to Snape and Potter that they had company.

Snape’s face never betrayed any emotion as he looked over his shoulder at the new arrival, but Potter’s eyes went wide and he tried to pull away from Snape’s cock, only to be held in place by an Immobilus charm. “Why Mr. Malfoy, so good of you to join us,” Snape said, his voice thick with the pleasure that Harry was inflicting upon him.

With a flick of his wand, Draco locked the doors and placed a silencing charm over the room, his gaze never leaving Potter’s shocked green eyes.

“I take it that means you wish to participate?” Snape asked, though Draco was sure the professor already knew that his own nature would prevent him from being able to leave an opportunity such as the feast presented there in front of him.

Without a word he walked over and dropped to his knees beside the unlikely pair, leaning over to smell the thick and heady fragrance he had been chasing all day. It was Potter, of course it was, nothing could be as simultaneously fitting and comical as that scent –the scent of his mate- belonging to Draco’s longest rival.

He would possess the boy he had spent his whole life hating, and he would take great pleasure in the breaking of the Gryffindor hero. “I’m going to fuck you, Potter,” he whispered against Harry’s ear, biting into the lobe. “You’re going to belong to me.”

Harry blinked, unable to respond with his mouth full as it was, but a single tear streaked down his face and Draco felt a moment of pity for his rival’s position. Snape must have felt a twinge of it as well, because he released the spell holding Harry against him, and at once the Gryffindor pulled back, massaging his jaw.

His eyelids fluttered as the movement drove the vial Snape had position in his arse even deeper inside of him, but he quickly regained his composure and slipped a furious mask over his face. “It’ll take more than that for you to own me, Malfoy,” he spat.

Draco smirked at Harry’s instant defiance, but instead of lashing out with his fists, or hexing the boy as he might have done before, he crashed into the boy’s lips, kissing him deeply and feeling a heat like lava, pool into his groin. Harry moaned against his mouth, at first in protest, but then with the same yearning that Draco felt, his hands scrambling to free Draco of his clothing.

His ran his tongue over Harry’s lips, savoring the shape and texture of each one. They were perfect, swollen and delicate under his assault, and he quickly flicked his tongue further into the boy’s mouth, pleading for entrance.

The Gryffindor yielded at once and returned the gesture with fervor. A flood of flavors entered his mouth and Draco picked them apart in search of the one he wanted to absorb. He moved through the taste of Snape, past the delicate tones of whatever food Harry had consumed at dinner, and ignored the sugary taste of chocolate from his dessert, all in favor of the taste that was innately Harry; he tasted like he smelled, like ripe berries just begging to be plucked and dipped in cream.

The classroom fuzzed away behind a thick white veil that felt like cool silk against Draco’s senses. In the heat of the moment, they had forgotten that the Professor was still present until the man tapped his foot impatiently and sneered down at them. “As much as I enjoy a good show, I’m afraid you’ve left something unattended,” he noted dryly.

Harry broke away from him at Snape’s words, and his eyes drifted longingly toward the bobbing rigid cock beside his face. Draco nodded toward the professor’s erection and gave Harry a lust filled smile as he watched, savoring the way Harry took the entire girth into his mouth in one go, lapping and moaning around it, but his eyes never leaving Draco as he did.

“Are you just going to watch?” Snape growled, his arse cheeks clenching and releasing with his violent thrusts.

Draco finally pulled his gaze away from Harry’s as he shifted behind him, studying Harry’s pert round arse and letting his fingertips trail from the small of his back, over his hops and down to the tip of his swollen cock. He rubbed his thumb over Harry’s head, and heard the muffled cry sound out from around Snape’s cock.

“Oh, yes. He does a brilliant thing with his tongue when you do that,” Snape told him thickly, so Draco did it again.

When he ran his sticky fingers down Harry’s length he saw the boy’s cheeks cave in and Snape’s head fell back as Harry sucked him harder. A well place smack on Harry’s arse made his entire body jump, and Snape hissed a warning at Harry about teeth.

Draco watched as the glass vial, still miraculously controlled by Snape’s wand, pushed its way into Harry’s tight hole, stretching the skin as it moved in and out. He glanced up at Snape, who wordlessly understood his intentions and let the charm fall. Draco placed his finger in the vial to begin moving it manually, rocking it slightly and feeling Harry squirm under the influence it had over his senses.

When Draco promptly removed the vial, Harry’s whimpers of protest amused him, and he let the boy lean back and back, searching for that penetration once more. He cast a simple lubrication spell and pressed the head of his cock against Harry’s entrance, having to hold Harry’s hips still in order to keep him from impaling himself straight away.

No, Draco wanted to savor the debauching of Harry Potter. He wanted to feel Harry writhe beneath him, wanted to hear every begging word from his lips, smell his intoxicating scent heighten with every inch he shoved into him.

With the first push he felt his head breach Harry’s entrance, and it took more effort to hold Potter back. With the second push, another two inches slid easily into his tight cavity, and by the third push he had to hold himself back, as well as Harry. With the final shove, his entire length was buried inside of Harry, and with a quick movement he pulled completely out and pounded into him again, relishing in the sound of his testicles slapping into the Gryffindor hero’s flesh.

Never in his wildest of fantasies had he imagined being able to fuck the Golden Boy in such a manner. He would own Harry before they were done here, and he would laugh to himself as the Gryffindor begged him for more.

Still, it was like nothing he had felt before. No wild exploit could compare with the way he felt being finally melded against his mate. Harry fit against him perfectly, as if they were bred of the same cloth and suddenly Draco knew that his new gifts could be fully explored with the Gryffindor in his bed.

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Harry had never felt so alive as when he was being torn in half from being penetrated at both ends. He had been afraid that being fucked by Draco was going to be painful, the boy was even larger than Severus, but it had been nothing but pleasure as his rival slammed into him repeatedly. He could feel the silken texture of Draco’s cock as he entered him, could smell his musky scent all around him, and imagined he could almost taste the Slytherin, even past the other prick he held in his mouth.

Draco smelled like no other, as if the boy encompassed the fragrances of every happy memory Harry had ever experienced. He could close his eyes and imagine a freshly groomed Quidditch Pitch, The Burrow; even the Hogwarts Express just by Draco’s unique scent.

All of his senses were heightened, and it was like he could read both of their minds and knew exactly what each wanted him to do. Harry loved giving it to them, loved hearing them moan and grunt with the pleasure he was offering. It was as if with every intoxicated moan the pain Harry had been attempting to stave off for weeks began to dissolve away into a puddle of liquid that pooled in his groin.

The extended pleasure caused him to grow weak and he could no longer keep his palms anchoring him to the ground, so he lifted up slightly, grasping Snape’s arse cheeks and pulling them apart with violent movements in time with his mouth as he sucked him off, deep and hard.

With a loud groan, Snape pulled himself out of Harry’s mouth and began jerking himself to completion. Harry almost protested at the loss of him until the professor aimed the head of his cock at Harry’s mouth and thick white liquid coated his tongue and throat. He swallowed it down, savoring the taste and blinked with surprise as he found himself being moved by Draco into a standing position.

“Time to take care of Potter’s big problem,” Draco ordered.

Snape scoffed and began walking away as Draco, cock still embedded inside the Gryffindor, moved him toward one of the desks that he longed to see Harry bent over. “I don’t kneel for anyone,” Snape noted with a sneer.

“You kneel for my father,” Draco replied with a knowing smile.

The Potion Master’s face turned a brilliant shade of red as he bowed to Draco mockingly and fell to his knees in front of Potter’s painfully throbbing erection. Snape’s mouth enveloped Harry and a whimpering scream was pulled from the boy’s mouth as the Potion’s master showed his expertise with a quick and proficient tongue.

Every thrust from Draco pushed Harry forward into Snape’s waiting mouth, and the sensation brought Harry to climax nearly instantly. As he came, hot liquid being swallowed down his most hated professor’s throat, he clenched around the intrusion in his arse and Draco hissed as his own orgasm was pulled from him as if it were a corporeal thing that Harry physically tugged from his body.

Harry smiled at the clearness flowing through his mind. He was free of the inappropriate animal that had been clawing its way to the surface, free of the feeling that he was a perverted freak, and no longer the quivering sex fiend of just an hour ago.

Unfortunately, it took an act that crossed all his carefully erected boundaries and with the two people he cared for least in the whole world.

Now that his mind was no longer one giant erogenous zone, he was curious as to what he should do next as Malfoy rested, collapsed against Harry’s back and panting, and Snape stared down at him, having stood up once more.

It then occurred to him that he was owed answers. “What am I?” he asked the professor, his voice cracking slightly from recent activities.

“He doesn’t know?” Draco asked the Potions Master.

The older man chuckled as he redressed himself. “Potter, you really need to learn how to negotiate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked petulantly, arms crossing over his bare chest.

“It means that had you been a Slytherin you would have demanded answers before giving me what I wanted,” Snape informed him snidely. “As it stands I have very little motivation to let you in on my little secret.”

“It’s not a secret,” Malfoy interrupted. “I’m the same as you, Potter.”

“Are you suddenly becoming sentimental?” Snape sneered. “For years you’ve hated this boy and a quick shag makes you forget everything? I thought you were stronger than that.”

“It’s hardly being sentimental, Professor. My mother told me and he doesn’t have that luxury. He should know what he is,” Draco responded with narrowed eyes.

“If it’s so important to you, Draco, fell free to tell him yourself,” Snape chided. “He’ll find out one way or another because your father will be most interested in this particular specimen,” he added, running his thumb across the Gryffindor’s cheek, but Harry pulled away into the unlikely and waiting arms of Draco Malfoy.

The blonde held Harry close and possessively as if now that their rendezvous was over he no longer wanted the Professor touching his prize; clearly the Slytherin didn’t realize that no one owns Harry Potter. He wrenched himself from Malfoy’s grasp, but the moment he pulled away from him the blissful curtain of peace folded aside to let the pain pour back in. Malfoy ground his teeth together and winced as he grabbed for Harry’s hand, but was denied. Regardless of the pain that settled over his body, Harry refused to be a part of this twisted game any longer. There had to be another way –a method that didn’t involve him being touched or fucked by Malfoy- that would still keep the pain at bay. He still didn’t know what was wrong with him, but, maybe now that he had a little more information, Hermione could find something.

Though how he was going to tell her about what happened here, he had no idea.

With shaking movements and a few Accio spells Harry found all of his clothing and began to get dressed. “Potter, wait. You can’t just leave like this,” Malfoy announced. The boy was shifting back and forth on his feet as if he had to piss, his face screwed up in a way that made him look pained. Harry almost reached out, almost took the boy’s hand –the contact it seemed would be beneficial to them both after all.

But in the end he decided against it, he finished dressing and marched to the door. If he found a way to abate the agony his body was inflicting upon him then he would tell Malfoy about it, but he couldn’t be a part of this wicked debauchery.

He’d just lost his virginity to the two men he hated most in the entire world –Harry needed to be alone… and he needed a shower.

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Draco fell to his knees despair the moment the door shut behind Harry. He barely even acknowledged that a still nude Snape was sneering down at him, and tuned out the sound of the Potion Master’s voice as he lectured Draco on the idiocies of getting tied to Potter. It was far too late for that though. He was bound irretrievably to the Gryffindor brat and vice versa, or so he had been told.

His mother talked about the act of finding his mate as a romantic thing, like the fairytale draw of a knight to his tower bound princess. But Potter was no damsel in distress and while Draco himself was also reluctant to accept that the Gryffindor Golden Boy was the one meant for him, he couldn’t deny the pull the raven-haired boy had on him. The very second Potter stepped away the flood of pain crashed back on him like a tidal wave. Draco had found his mate, but in the same moment had been rejected.

He just knew the Gryffindor must have felt it too. He could see the way the boy trembled as he slowly slipped back into his clothing, he could see the confusion glimmering in those pools of green, but still he walked away, batting aside Draco’s proffered hand for the second time and left the room.

How could Potter be so much more strong-willed than himself? How could he not give in when the answer to all his problems was packaged and delivered straight to his doorstep? Mother never warned him that this could happen. No doubt she assumed that anyone normal wouldn’t stand a chance against the lure of Malfoy beauty and charm, but Potter wasn’t exactly normal.

“Well now what,” he sighed to himself, running his hands through his sweat soaked hair.

“Was he really so good that you crumble to the floor like an infant?” a voice asked, and Draco whirled to glare at his Head of House, having forgotten where he was or even that he had company in the wake of his confusion and distress.

“Potter’s my mate,” he hissed, narrowing his eyes in anger.

There was no sympathy in the older man’s obsidian eyes, and only harsh laughter reached Draco’s ears. “Well I suppose Potter wasn’t the only one getting fucked tonight, was he?” Snape teased crudely. “Good luck with that one.”

“What would you know?” Draco scoffed. “He’ll come around, he’ll have to.” Though, Draco wasn’t entirely certain that was true. Could Potter just keep resisting until it killed them both? If anyone could it was the Gryffindor hero for sure.

“I know that you’ll be fighting your father for him,” the older man replied. “You know Lucius will want Potter for the company.”

Draco didn’t know a lot about what his father did, but he could make well educated guesses. He’d never seen the place but the very name ‘Madame Scarlet’s’ evoked images of women grinding in men’s laps and orgies in every corner. He had a hard time believing that his father would be involved with something like that when Draco knew he preferred his public appearance to remain that of a proper pureblood gentleman, but Draco knew that his father preyed on Incubi men and Succubus women for his elite club of wealthy clients and, since Draco knew first hand the veritable talents of his kind, he felt pretty confident he knew what his father was up to. No doubt people would pay handsomely to fuck the one and only Harry Potter, and if his mate continued to resist than he would find himself begging for it.

The idea of his father using Potter this way made Draco irrationally sick to his stomach. On any other day he’d find the irony amusing. Little Harry Potter survived killing the world’s darkest wizard only to become a willing sex slave to the Malfoy’s –it was priceless, really. But now it seemed different and significantly less humorous.

There on the floor, Draco wondered to what ends he might have to go to in order to protect his mate from his own flesh and blood, and worse still –could he hold his own against the man who made him or would he crumble in failure at the feet of Malfoy duty and blood obligation?

Potter did reject him after-all, was he even worth fighting for?

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Authors Note: So yes, this story moves quickly, but that's because there are a lot of bases to cover. So hold on to your trousers!