A Good Boy
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
22,020
Reviews:
96
Recommended:
0
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Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
18
Views:
22,020
Reviews:
96
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Harry Potter fandom, and I do not make money from this story.
Chapter Five - Trapped
A/N:Thank you so much for the reviews! :D And sorry for the late update. I've been to a metal-festival! \,,/
Chapter Five – Trapped
“Mr. Malfoy, five points from Slytherin. Stay after class.” The Gryffindor part of the room sniggered. They had never seen Draco mess up like that. Dean was doubled over, trying to muffle his laughter, and Hermione was quietly giggling behind her hands. They knew they could not laugh out loud, or Snape would take many more points away from them.
Harry did not have to worry about silencing anything though, as he was not even smiling. He had been watching Draco. He saw how he drifted away, thinking about something entirely different than what he was doing. He saw how his potion started boiling, when it was not supposed to. He saw how Draco did nothing. He did not even notice. Harry wanted to do something, to warn him. But he did not. And soon enough the potion boiled over, and covered the floor with smoking hot, reddish liquid. Draco was drawn out of wherever he was, but there was nothing he could do. The damage was done, and Harry could see the despair in his eyes.
He knew he was supposed to laugh. Hell, he even wanted to laugh. He just couldn’t. When class ended, he did not really want to go, but followed Dean and Hermione out anyway. He figured there was nothing he could do. And then he convinced himself there was nothing he wanted to do. Days had passed since their last encounter, and neither of them had said a word about it. Harry had woken up the next morning to an empty room. He had no idea when Draco had left. The knife was missing, and so was all the blood. Harry would have thought it was all a dream if Draco had not left him a note.
Do not tell anyone about this. Please. At least do that for me. It will be all right.
Harry did not really feel comforted by the beautiful handwriting, but he tucked the note deep in his pocket. He did not even know why he saved it, he just knew he could not throw it away. He had obeyed Draco’s wish, and had not said anything about it. He could not stop thinking about it though, and had made a habit of always keeping the Marauder’s Map with him at all times, occasionally sneaking away to look at it. Draco had not returned to that room yet. Harry had tried to discuss Draco with his friends. He had asked them if they had noticed anything different about him in the last couple of weeks. Hermione had gotten angry and accused him of being obsessed with Draco. Ron did not say anything, as he was too busy looking down Hermione’s cleavage. Harry did not press the matter further. Instead he spent more and more time on his own, pondering what to do.
When class ended, Draco stayed seated at his desk. He did not dare move, talk, or even look up. He could feel Snape closing in on him. He stopped right in front of him, and stood there for a while. He waited just long enough to get Draco wondering what was going to happen, and then slapped him across the cheek. Draco knew better than to say anything.
Snape shouted at him, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The beating escalated, and Draco stayed seated on his chair as long as he could, before he fell to the floor. Snape kicked him a few times before tiring of the beating. “I am very disappointed in you.”
Draco coughed, trying to get some air in his lungs. “I know, Master, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” As Draco knew, he did not respond to that.
“Meet me in my chambers at 11 p.m.”
“Yes, Master.” Draco managed not to look as frightened as he felt. He stayed on the floor until Snape covered the bruises up with a quick spell, and then ordered him to leave. He crawled to the door, not as much in respect as in pain. Of course Snape did not soothe the pain. He used the handle to pull himself up, and then headed straight for his room.
----------
An eternity later, or just a few seconds, Draco was not sure, his former friends returned to the room, and Draco knew it was almost time for him to leave. He looked at the clock he always wore in his pocket (Snape was not gentle when he was late) and figured he should get up, as the clock had turned to 10.45. His friends stopped wondering where he went a long time ago. They knew he would never tell, so why bother thinking about it? It had suited Draco perfectly. Now he almost wanted them to ask. He would prefer anything to this silent treatment they were still giving him.
Approximately five minutes later, he was at the end of the hallway leading down to Snape’s chambers, and sat down to wait. Even though Snape hated people who were late, he was not too fond of people being early either. Draco always made sure to set his clock after Snape’s, to avoid unnecessary pain. The minutes stretched out to what felt like hours, but when the clock turned 10.59, Draco felt as though he just sat down. He was used to these hour-long minutes disappearing as soon as they were over with. Spending most of your time being nervous tends to make time go crazy.
Draco knocked on the door exactly when the clock turned 11.00.
“Enter.”
A half an hour later, Draco felt like he could not get enough air down his lungs. Not because the pain from his ribs, he was used to that. Not even because of the balled up sock in his mouth, usually he could have just breathed through his nose. The problem was that he was panicking. He was trying hard not to hyperventilate, but to no avail. He could not see anything thanks to the blindfold, and his arms were secured behind his back with handcuffs. His feet were tied to each end of the table he was bending over. A collar tying his naked form to the table completed the picture. He could not move even if his life depended on it. There was nothing he could do about it and he had never felt so helpless in his entire life. He was not sure he could take it.
And somewhere in that room, Snape stood watching him. Or doing something else, Draco was not sure. If he could just calm down enough to pay attention, he was sure he could hear where Snape was and what he was doing. The problem was he knew he would not be able to calm down one bit. And he was sure Snape knew that just as well as he did. Draco did not need to concentrate to know that his master was enjoying this far too much for Draco’s own good. He was certain this would happen again, and again and again, until Draco did not panic anymore and Snape grew tired of it. Draco yelped into the sock as he felt a hand on his bare ass. It was not rough, not even a slap, but he had not been expecting it. He had been lying there quite a few minutes, and his panic had not subsided at all. And now, with Snape so close to him, it was quickly growing. He was starting to get dizzy when Snape’s hand slapped him hard.
“You will NOT faint!” Draco had to use all his self-control to obey his master. As he willed the dizziness away Snape began stroking him. A finger covered in lubricant searched its way to Draco’s entrance. A second and a third were added, and they pumped in and out, stretching him. They disappeared but were instantly replaced by what he knew was Snape’s cock probing at his entrance. It entered him smoothly, rested for a while, and then began thrusting. Draco tried to convince himself it was not too bad. Snape was not hurting him or anything. He was, in fact, being unusually gentle. It did not matter though. When he was not tied up like this, he could at least pretend that he was willing. Now he was completely surrendered to Snape’s will, and he could not even beg for mercy.
When Snape was done, Draco had truly believed he would let him go. He did not. Without saying a word he left, and Draco heard the door close. Some time later, Draco woke up from a knocking on the door. He did not know what time it was, or who it was at the door. No matter who it was though, he knew he would prefer lying like this until he died over letting anyone see him like this. ‘Please don’t come in, please don’t come in, please don’t come in,’ he thought repeatedly.
After a while, the knocking stopped and a voice was heard instead.
“Draco, I know you’re in there. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can please come out.” His voice was so pleading, Draco might have actually opened the door if he was not tied up. All he did now was try to force Harry to leave by using mind-power only. And it worked. After a little more pleading and a few attempts to open the door he left. Draco was not entirely sure if he was relieved or not.
“Mr. Malfoy, five points from Slytherin. Stay after class.” The Gryffindor part of the room sniggered. They had never seen Draco mess up like that. Dean was doubled over, trying to muffle his laughter, and Hermione was quietly giggling behind her hands. They knew they could not laugh out loud, or Snape would take many more points away from them.
Harry did not have to worry about silencing anything though, as he was not even smiling. He had been watching Draco. He saw how he drifted away, thinking about something entirely different than what he was doing. He saw how his potion started boiling, when it was not supposed to. He saw how Draco did nothing. He did not even notice. Harry wanted to do something, to warn him. But he did not. And soon enough the potion boiled over, and covered the floor with smoking hot, reddish liquid. Draco was drawn out of wherever he was, but there was nothing he could do. The damage was done, and Harry could see the despair in his eyes.
He knew he was supposed to laugh. Hell, he even wanted to laugh. He just couldn’t. When class ended, he did not really want to go, but followed Dean and Hermione out anyway. He figured there was nothing he could do. And then he convinced himself there was nothing he wanted to do. Days had passed since their last encounter, and neither of them had said a word about it. Harry had woken up the next morning to an empty room. He had no idea when Draco had left. The knife was missing, and so was all the blood. Harry would have thought it was all a dream if Draco had not left him a note.
Harry did not really feel comforted by the beautiful handwriting, but he tucked the note deep in his pocket. He did not even know why he saved it, he just knew he could not throw it away. He had obeyed Draco’s wish, and had not said anything about it. He could not stop thinking about it though, and had made a habit of always keeping the Marauder’s Map with him at all times, occasionally sneaking away to look at it. Draco had not returned to that room yet. Harry had tried to discuss Draco with his friends. He had asked them if they had noticed anything different about him in the last couple of weeks. Hermione had gotten angry and accused him of being obsessed with Draco. Ron did not say anything, as he was too busy looking down Hermione’s cleavage. Harry did not press the matter further. Instead he spent more and more time on his own, pondering what to do.
When class ended, Draco stayed seated at his desk. He did not dare move, talk, or even look up. He could feel Snape closing in on him. He stopped right in front of him, and stood there for a while. He waited just long enough to get Draco wondering what was going to happen, and then slapped him across the cheek. Draco knew better than to say anything.
Snape shouted at him, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The beating escalated, and Draco stayed seated on his chair as long as he could, before he fell to the floor. Snape kicked him a few times before tiring of the beating. “I am very disappointed in you.”
Draco coughed, trying to get some air in his lungs. “I know, Master, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” As Draco knew, he did not respond to that.
“Meet me in my chambers at 11 p.m.”
“Yes, Master.” Draco managed not to look as frightened as he felt. He stayed on the floor until Snape covered the bruises up with a quick spell, and then ordered him to leave. He crawled to the door, not as much in respect as in pain. Of course Snape did not soothe the pain. He used the handle to pull himself up, and then headed straight for his room.
An eternity later, or just a few seconds, Draco was not sure, his former friends returned to the room, and Draco knew it was almost time for him to leave. He looked at the clock he always wore in his pocket (Snape was not gentle when he was late) and figured he should get up, as the clock had turned to 10.45. His friends stopped wondering where he went a long time ago. They knew he would never tell, so why bother thinking about it? It had suited Draco perfectly. Now he almost wanted them to ask. He would prefer anything to this silent treatment they were still giving him.
Approximately five minutes later, he was at the end of the hallway leading down to Snape’s chambers, and sat down to wait. Even though Snape hated people who were late, he was not too fond of people being early either. Draco always made sure to set his clock after Snape’s, to avoid unnecessary pain. The minutes stretched out to what felt like hours, but when the clock turned 10.59, Draco felt as though he just sat down. He was used to these hour-long minutes disappearing as soon as they were over with. Spending most of your time being nervous tends to make time go crazy.
Draco knocked on the door exactly when the clock turned 11.00.
“Enter.”
A half an hour later, Draco felt like he could not get enough air down his lungs. Not because the pain from his ribs, he was used to that. Not even because of the balled up sock in his mouth, usually he could have just breathed through his nose. The problem was that he was panicking. He was trying hard not to hyperventilate, but to no avail. He could not see anything thanks to the blindfold, and his arms were secured behind his back with handcuffs. His feet were tied to each end of the table he was bending over. A collar tying his naked form to the table completed the picture. He could not move even if his life depended on it. There was nothing he could do about it and he had never felt so helpless in his entire life. He was not sure he could take it.
And somewhere in that room, Snape stood watching him. Or doing something else, Draco was not sure. If he could just calm down enough to pay attention, he was sure he could hear where Snape was and what he was doing. The problem was he knew he would not be able to calm down one bit. And he was sure Snape knew that just as well as he did. Draco did not need to concentrate to know that his master was enjoying this far too much for Draco’s own good. He was certain this would happen again, and again and again, until Draco did not panic anymore and Snape grew tired of it. Draco yelped into the sock as he felt a hand on his bare ass. It was not rough, not even a slap, but he had not been expecting it. He had been lying there quite a few minutes, and his panic had not subsided at all. And now, with Snape so close to him, it was quickly growing. He was starting to get dizzy when Snape’s hand slapped him hard.
“You will NOT faint!” Draco had to use all his self-control to obey his master. As he willed the dizziness away Snape began stroking him. A finger covered in lubricant searched its way to Draco’s entrance. A second and a third were added, and they pumped in and out, stretching him. They disappeared but were instantly replaced by what he knew was Snape’s cock probing at his entrance. It entered him smoothly, rested for a while, and then began thrusting. Draco tried to convince himself it was not too bad. Snape was not hurting him or anything. He was, in fact, being unusually gentle. It did not matter though. When he was not tied up like this, he could at least pretend that he was willing. Now he was completely surrendered to Snape’s will, and he could not even beg for mercy.
When Snape was done, Draco had truly believed he would let him go. He did not. Without saying a word he left, and Draco heard the door close. Some time later, Draco woke up from a knocking on the door. He did not know what time it was, or who it was at the door. No matter who it was though, he knew he would prefer lying like this until he died over letting anyone see him like this. ‘Please don’t come in, please don’t come in, please don’t come in,’ he thought repeatedly.
After a while, the knocking stopped and a voice was heard instead.
“Draco, I know you’re in there. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can please come out.” His voice was so pleading, Draco might have actually opened the door if he was not tied up. All he did now was try to force Harry to leave by using mind-power only. And it worked. After a little more pleading and a few attempts to open the door he left. Draco was not entirely sure if he was relieved or not.