Feelings and Trust
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
9,839
Reviews:
50
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
9,839
Reviews:
50
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Internal death
ok people, I agree my last chapter was a bit on the short side (as in very short), but not even one review? I figured atleas one would coment on the shortness and tell me to write chapters worth reading, or something. The complete lack of reviews was a bit suprising. I think I'd have liked a flaming better... atleast that's some responce.... *bewildered* it was that bad?
--***--
He’d been hanging in this room for how long, he did not know.
The room was nearly completely dark, just one or two small windows on the far side of the room. The windows where so dirty that they did not allow much light in.
Just as well really, as any more light would show a bit more of the “things” on the walls.
Whips, paddles, ropes and complicated contraptions hanged on the walls, as if on display.
It was quite cold in the dark room, with it’s stone walls and floor, but he was grateful for it. It helped numb his aching limbs.
He remembered vaguely that loosing the feeling in body parts was a bad sign, but could not remember why it was bad or who had told him. He tried to grasp the memory and knowledge, but just as he found it, it slithered out of reach. It was the same with other memories, of happy people in happier times. He could never quite grasp them. As if they had no anchor in his mind. As if they where not his memories to own.
It had frustrated him at one time.
When was that?
And now?
He didn’t feel frustrated anymore, only tired. Down to the very core of his soul, he felt tired.
He wondered where Master was. Was Master coming back to him? He wasn’t abandoned here? Was he?
He could’nt remember angering Master. But then again, what did he know? He was only a slave and if Master felt this was where he should be, then Master was right.
His mouth and chin was itching from dried drool, dripping from his gaged mouth. He wondered if he found the light spinning, comforting or nauseating. Probably a bit of both.
He had no real idea how he was hanging from the ceiling, just that it was by means of rope and that it had been a bit painful at the beginning.
Did his ears pick up voices? No, he was probably just hallucinating again. It happened quite frequently when he was left alone, in rooms like these.
Usually he would talk to a boy with glasses and messy brown hair, he was nice. Sometimes a girl with curly hair would come out and tell him to “concentrate more” or “don’t be a fool”. She confused him.
There it was again! Sounds of voices.
He could feel something grab hold of him. He stoped spinning.
“It must be Master” his mind told him.
More sound.
Hands where behind his head, taking the gag off. The ball in the gag, was gently taken out of his mouth. He should probably close his mouth, but he could just not remember how to do it.
The gentle hand was back and under his chin, closing his mouth for him.
*SMACK!*
*SMACK!*
Both sides of his face stung.
Instantly he could feel his consciousness flooding slowly back out, taking full control of his eyes.
A beautiful white blond man was standing in front of him, his Master was just behind the man. The blond... Malf.... He was slipping again. He tried to grab on to the memory of who this man was, but it was as useless now as with the other memories.
Draco on the other hand, had seen the small glimpse of sanity and a small feeling of hope spread in him.
---***---
--***--
He’d been hanging in this room for how long, he did not know.
The room was nearly completely dark, just one or two small windows on the far side of the room. The windows where so dirty that they did not allow much light in.
Just as well really, as any more light would show a bit more of the “things” on the walls.
Whips, paddles, ropes and complicated contraptions hanged on the walls, as if on display.
It was quite cold in the dark room, with it’s stone walls and floor, but he was grateful for it. It helped numb his aching limbs.
He remembered vaguely that loosing the feeling in body parts was a bad sign, but could not remember why it was bad or who had told him. He tried to grasp the memory and knowledge, but just as he found it, it slithered out of reach. It was the same with other memories, of happy people in happier times. He could never quite grasp them. As if they had no anchor in his mind. As if they where not his memories to own.
It had frustrated him at one time.
When was that?
And now?
He didn’t feel frustrated anymore, only tired. Down to the very core of his soul, he felt tired.
He wondered where Master was. Was Master coming back to him? He wasn’t abandoned here? Was he?
He could’nt remember angering Master. But then again, what did he know? He was only a slave and if Master felt this was where he should be, then Master was right.
His mouth and chin was itching from dried drool, dripping from his gaged mouth. He wondered if he found the light spinning, comforting or nauseating. Probably a bit of both.
He had no real idea how he was hanging from the ceiling, just that it was by means of rope and that it had been a bit painful at the beginning.
Did his ears pick up voices? No, he was probably just hallucinating again. It happened quite frequently when he was left alone, in rooms like these.
Usually he would talk to a boy with glasses and messy brown hair, he was nice. Sometimes a girl with curly hair would come out and tell him to “concentrate more” or “don’t be a fool”. She confused him.
There it was again! Sounds of voices.
He could feel something grab hold of him. He stoped spinning.
“It must be Master” his mind told him.
More sound.
Hands where behind his head, taking the gag off. The ball in the gag, was gently taken out of his mouth. He should probably close his mouth, but he could just not remember how to do it.
The gentle hand was back and under his chin, closing his mouth for him.
*SMACK!*
*SMACK!*
Both sides of his face stung.
Instantly he could feel his consciousness flooding slowly back out, taking full control of his eyes.
A beautiful white blond man was standing in front of him, his Master was just behind the man. The blond... Malf.... He was slipping again. He tried to grab on to the memory of who this man was, but it was as useless now as with the other memories.
Draco on the other hand, had seen the small glimpse of sanity and a small feeling of hope spread in him.
---***---