Madame Scarlet's

Author’s Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her continued beta support of this unconventional tale of debauchery. Also, if you haven't already seen, I posted the first chapter of a new short story I'm working on called 'Plundered'. It's Pirate Drarry.

Chapter 8 Meat for the Hounds

Harry awoke suddenly with such a feeling of dread that, had he been an actor in a movie, ominous music would be playing in the background. He didn’t know what sparked him to wake up covered in a thin sheen of sweat, or what nightmare he must have had to make him bolt upright in bed, but he had the strongest sense that he had best be on his guard.

Automatically his eyes flicked around to room to see if anyone else was awake, or if the presence of some intruder that had snuck into the room was what struck his alarm, but he failed to see even a quill out of place in the still dark room. He tried to lie back down and quiet his mind enough to fall back to sleep, but when the feeling of caution wore off it was replaced immediately with the burning desire that had been plaguing him for weeks now.

He refused to give into his body’s whims but couldn’t seem to ignore them by remaining in bed, so he hopped up and threw on his invisibility cloak figuring that a walk might do him some good. After locating the Marauder’s Map, Harry set out, stopping as soon as he got to the landing just outside his dorm room entrance. There on the first step leading down into the common room was a shiny silver box with a dark green velvet ribbon. It gave him pause, but eventually Harry leaned in for a closer look. Upon further inspection he noticed a small card attached to the bow that said simply ‘Harry’ in delicate, almost girlish script.

Picking up the package, Harry shook it back and forth as he walked downstairs, trying to see if the contents inside would make a sound and alert him to its identity. The parcel was heavy, and only made a raspy thud as it fell from one side of the box to the other. Finally planted in his favorite chair, Harry tore the package open, noting quietly to himself to fib to Hermione if she asked if he had checked it for curses first.

He was relieved to find that there seemed to be nothing untoward to worry over, it was only a heavy book wrapped within the polished silver box. He wondered who would give him a book and for a moment he questioned whether the intended recipient was actually himself after all–he even double checked the tag to make sure it wasn’t Hermione’s name scribbled there and not his- until he read the title on the dusty cover. ‘Demons Volume 12: History of the Incubus and Succubus’

Harry found himself rather offended at the idea of being called a demon, but then that was how he sometimes felt. The idea of preying on innocent victims to fill his sexual demands did seem rather evil, but he desperately hoped that by fighting the urge he might forgo his apparently reserved spot in Hell. He assumed at first that Hermione had found the book for him; she had been doing a fair bit of research in the Restricted Section of the library lately, but as soon as he flipped open the cover he found a note from the true culprit nestled snugly inside.

‘Harry,

I realize this must all be tremendously odd and maybe even a little bit frightening for you. I hoped this might help to answer some of your questions. I assure you that my feelings for you are genuine and I would like the opportunity to prove it.

Yours Forever,

Draco Malfoy’

A shudder ran through Harry’s body knowing that the delicious Slytherin had been so close to his own bed, so close that he could have easily taken him as his own right then. It was intoxicating to think of Draco simply sneaking into his room and slipping into bed with him, his warm body enfolding Harry in a soothing embrace. Harry’s lips we filled with a phantom ache as if Draco had snogged them raw, just the thought of Draco calmed some of his burning nerves. His mind was so rich with vibrant fantasies that Harry began to even think he heard the boy call out his name like a faint whisper on the air.

“Harry?” It sounded again, but this time he wasn’t so sure it was all in his mind. Once again Harry let his eyes flick around the room, only this time they landed on a shadow in the corner, a darkly cloaked body standing between two tall bookcases.

“Malfoy?” he asked, setting the book aside and striding over to the figure. “What are you doing here?”

The boy jumped, launching nearly out of his skin, and Harry realized suddenly that he’d been wearing the invisibility cloak and quickly pulled it off, the movement startling the blonde once more. “Sorry,” Harry told the other boy meekly, figuring his sudden appearance had been the cause of his panic.

“I saw the book levitate over to the chair, and then disembodied hands dashed out to rip the box open,” Draco chuckled, recovering from his brief scare. “Where did you get this thing?” he asked, pointing to the discarded pile of shimmering fabric.

Instantly Harry became acutely aware that he was only wearing a thin pair of pajama bottoms as his body reacted to the blonde in front of him.

“My dad left it to me,” Harry replied. His mind wasn’t occupied with the explanation of the cloaks rich history though, but rather on the pearly white teeth that were biting into a soft pink bottom lip. Malfoy’s milky skin seemed to glow in the faint light of the room, and while most of his hair was still covered by the hood of his cloak, a few obstinate strands fell into Draco’s face looking so silky that Harry wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through those golden trusses to see if they felt as soft as they looked. All the warnings he’d been holding fast to seemed silly and childish now that he had Draco standing before him and looking more that just a little delectable.

“That’s some gift,” Draco mused, looking equally mesmerized by Harry’s proximity. “Harry I-“ Draco began, but his words failed to leave his lips as Harry crashed into him with a brutal force the blonde hadn’t been expecting. Tender lips pressed against his own and Draco fought for dominance, but lost miserably to the attack of teeth and lips and hands that Harry launched against him.

Draco tasted like honey and lemon, sweet and sour all at once and different from last time. Everything felt different from last time, Harry wasn’t as confused, wasn’t as shocked, wasn’t as fragile as he’d been that night in Snape’s classroom. He felt stronger, surer, and he was most sure about his desire for Draco above all others.

Harry’s mouth only left Draco’s so that he could explore new areas of his skin, starting with the boy’s jaw and working his way slowly down Draco’s neck and then back up to his earlobe until he heard the Slytherin gasp his pleasure. He went for the blonde’s cloak, pushing it from his shoulders to reveal only a thin gray linen shirt underneath. “Harry-“ Draco began to protest, but Harry sealed a finger over the boy’s lips.

“Hush. You’ll ruin it,” Harry warned, running the fingers of his other hand over the light fabric of Draco’s shirt.

With a whimper, Draco nodded; letting Harry’s hand roam under the top to caress his pulsing flesh, every inch of him screamed out for the Gryffindor to touch him more, kiss him more. Seeming to hear the silent plea, Harry wasted no time in ripping the shirt from Draco’s torso and then throwing it roughly to the floor before pressing the boy into the wall behind them. A groan escaped Malfoy’s lips, which quickly turned into a cry of ecstasy as Harry dove his hand into the Slytherin’s trousers to grip the House’s namesake waiting inside.

Harry pumped him furiously, letting the slick liquid already leaking from the boy’s arousal coat his hand as he brought Draco to the edge. Just as Draco’s breathing grew quick and shallow and his gray gaze began to cloud over with lust –Harry stopped.

“I want you,” Harry purred against the other boy’s neck, sending gooseflesh across Draco’s exposed arms and chest. Harry could feel the beast within him like a palpable thing that he could almost separate away from his own being. His body felt different, his mind was keener, sharper, and even his voice sounded different to his own ears. It was as if the Incubus was a living thing inside of him and it was making its way to the surface, ready to break through and ravish the luminescent blond in front of him. “I want to be inside you,” Harry continued, letting his demon take over.

Draco’s eyes went wide at those simple words. As much as he’d wanted this very thing, his mind had never rationalized out the possibility that Harry might want to top him. Draco had been dominant over Harry in their first encounter and he merely assumed it would remain that way, but this hungry, ravaging Harry was a different animal altogether than the one he had found whimpering for release in the Dungeon classroom weeks before. Was this even the same boy he’d been chasing? It certainly smelled like him, tasted like him –but there was more there as well.

“I don’t know,” Draco replied at last. He didn’t think he was ready to submit himself just yet.

“Are you refusing me?” Harry asked, obviously perplexed by the possibility. “I thought you wanted me, too.”

“I do!” Draco nearly shouted. “I do,” he repeated more quietly. “I’ve just never…”

“So you just assumed I was an eager bottom?” Harry asked, though he could already see the answer written on Draco’s face. “That was my first time,” he assured the blond before releasing his grip and stepping back.

He didn’t wait for Draco’s response, instead he turned around and scooped up his cloak and gifted book before storming upstairs. He warded the door behind him, making sure the Slytherin couldn’t follow and threw himself on the bed in a fit of anger and frustration. Harry didn’t know why he continued to think and pine over the malicious boy who apparently only wanted things his way. He would soon find out that Harry Potter wasn’t so easily pushed around and that a fair relationship –even if it were merely based on sex- would be the only relationship he stood for. If all Malfoy wanted was a submissive rag doll he had best look elsewhere.

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Draco opened the door to the Great Hall and stormed inside, heading straight for Harry Potter –his mate. It had been two weeks since he’d risked life and limb to sneak into the lion’s den to deliver that gift for Harry and he’d been rewarded only by Harry snubbing his reluctance and returning to his room. He’d gotten a harsh shock when he tried to follow the boy, something akin to a lightning bolt seemed to shoot right though him. It was far more powerful a magic than anything they’d been taught at Hogwarts and it still smarted when Draco tried to grab his wand too roughly. Since that night Harry hadn’t needed a back up guard to keep him away from Draco, no, the Gryffindor Seeker was perfectly adept at avoiding Draco all on his own.

He refused to stand for it any longer though. Draco was in constant pain, and the only one who could relieve that pain was Harry. The brunet belonged to him and, by Merlin, Draco was going to collect him at last.

“Potter, a word in the corridor,” Draco greeted, not a request but a demand, just as he’d seen his father do a million times.

“No,” Harry replied easily without even looking up.

“I’m serious,” Draco continued, his voice dropping into more of a whine than he would have liked.

“So am I,” Harry replied sharply.

“Please, Harry,” he tried, this time the Gryffindor turned to face him at least.

“I don’t want to see you right now,” Harry told him firmly. “Perhaps when I’m not so angry with you we could talk. Until then just sod off, Malfoy.”

Draco didn’t know what to do, or what to say. Harry didn’t look angry, but he’d confessed to that very emotion as he sat there looking every bit the stony Slytherin –cold and indifferent. Granger and Weasley were obviously listening to the exchange while pretending to be occupied with a paper what was lying upside down on the table, and Draco felt a blush creep up his cheeks at having his apparent weakness for the Gryffindor hero made public.

Had hell frozen over? Had he somehow fallen into an alternate dimension where Harry Potter was more Slytherin than Draco Fucking Malfoy? This was ridiculous, Draco was supposed to be the one reaping the vast benefits of his new inheritance. He was supposed to be happily spreading his seed all over the school not spreading his cheeks only to take it up the arse from a Gryffindor.

This ‘Mate’ nonsense was turning his entire life upside down. He’d known the minute he caught the scent outside the Gryffindor common room that he was going to have a battle on his hands, but Draco could never have predicted such a mess. How could Harry continue to refuse him? How was he able to cope with the pain? Only sex kept it at bay, and Draco had a harder and harder time attempting to relieve himself with someone else.

A horrid thought raced through Draco’s mind and his eyes snapped back up to Harry’s calm and collected face. Was Harry fucking another student? A violent flame of jealousy burned through him at the thought and he was unable to banish the image of his Harry with another. Draco had shared him the once out of necessity, he didn’t want that to happen again.

He glared down at Harry feeling some of his cold detachment return at the thought of Harry declining him in favor of another boy. “So you won’t come speak with me?” he confirmed and Harry shook his head.

“Not today,” he replied firmly and turned back to his meal.

Draco’s body shook with rage; he was rejected and possibly even replaced in Potter’s life before he’d even had a chance to make his claim. With a silent growl, Draco turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, unsure of how to vent his fury and pain.

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Hermione reached across the table and clutched her friend’s now trembling hand, squeezing it slightly until Harry looked up at her. His eyes were so dark green they were nearly black; a sign she knew from her research meant that Harry had gone far too long being unfulfilled. She hated to see her friend this way but she wasn’t sure how one went about persuading someone like Harry to ‘just go on and fuck Malfoy already’. Clearly it was a touchy subject, and with the book Malfoy had left for Harry to read, she’d learned far more than she ever wanted to and was convinced, now more than ever, that Harry and Malfoy were Mates. But how was Harry supposed to overcome so many years of hatred and rivalry? Hermione worried they wouldn’t be able to and feared what that would mean for her best friend.

“Alright, Harry?” she asked, knowing that of course he wasn’t.

“I’m fine,” he replied dutifully, a Harry Potter answer if ever there was one. Hermione swore one day those words would be carved into the boy’s tombstone. “He just needs to learn that not everything is on his terms,” Harry added, poking a bit of egg around his plate distractedly.

“It’s a good lesson, Harry, but…” she began, but Harry’s sharp glare cut her words off rather abruptly.

“Lay off it, Mione. Okay?” he demanded harshly, and his face softened the moment she nodded.

Harry was changing, growing angrier and more violent every day. Hermione had no idea how to counter it and there was nothing in any of the books she read that explained it, but she had a hunch that it had something to do with Harry finding his mate and denying him. The beast inside of Harry was punishing him, making Harry pay for betraying his true nature.

‘Beast’ wasn’t her word for it; it was Harry’s. The book often referred to it as a demon or some other ghastly source, but based on some of the stories she’d read, Hermione had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t nearly so horrid as the authors had made it sound. Harry had a capacity for love inside of him so deep that it would literally kill him not to share it. In fact, from what she’d learned so far, Hermione quickly reasoned out that the Incubi needed love, not sex to survive. Sex –because the act often went hand in hand with love, even if just a mere hint of it- could feed them and keep them for a time, but without the love that only his mate could provide, Harry’s soul would wither and die.

She didn’t want that fate for Harry but she had no idea how to explain any of this to the boy who sat stubbornly across from her, refusing to admit his feelings for the Slytherin who had just stormed away.

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Draco had yet to discover a way to vent his anger when he stumbled into his dorm to find it far darker than it should have been. He cast several Lumos spells in quick succession but nothing brought the lights back up.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” a familiar drawl sounded from further inside the room.

“Father? What are you doing here?” Draco asked and he was momentarily blinded by a flash of light that erupted in his vision.

“When Severus told me about Potter I said ‘No. It cannot be true. My son would have come to me with this information directly’,” he went on as if Draco hadn’t said a word and wasn’t standing before him shielding his similarly gray eyes. “I looked like a fool, Draco, and you know how much I loathe looking like a fool,” he growled.

“Yes, Father,” Draco replied softly, trying to hold his composure in front of the powerful wizard and patriarch.

“You had a prize such as the wizarding world’s most clouted hero on your radar and you didn’t bring him to me at once?” Lucius carried on. “Think of the Galleons that one boy could bring us, think of the power we would hold. Why even the Minister himself would probably pay handsomely to lay with Harry Potter for just a moment.”

“But he’s my mate,” Draco blurted, his rage renewing when his father talked of pimping Harry out to the highest bidder.

“Severus says Potter hasn’t acknowledged that, which makes me curious as to why you would continue to lie about it,” Lucius hissed, grabbing his son roughly by the jaw. “Are you trying to oust me from the business I created?” he snarled. “You think that with this one Incubi you can woo away my clientele and take over?”

“No,” Draco spat bravely, though he couldn’t keep the tremble from his voice. “I wouldn’t even know how to do such a thing.”

“Exactly,” Lucius growled, releasing the grip on his son’s face and pushing him away roughly. “Which is why you’ll bring Potter to me so that I may examine him and induct him into our exclusive little group.”

“Examine him?” Draco whispered; the words making bile rise into his throat.

“Yes,” Lucius replied with a twisted grin. “I’ll try him and I’ll train him… vigorously if needed.”

“He’s mine!!” Draco shouted, lashing out only to be put into a full body bind by his Potions Master who was standing nearby, previously unnoticed due to Draco’s momentary blindness and the distraction his father provided.

Snape glided over and caressed long fingers against Draco’s frozen cheek. “Such a waste, Lucius,” he cooed. “You really should have been stricter with him. He might not be so defiant if you had used a firmer hand,” he added, smacking Draco sharply in the jaw for emphasis.

“There’s nothing I could have done. He’s weak like his mother,” Lucius snapped, releasing his son from his partners spell. “Are you willing to concede to me?” he asked Draco, holding up a finger to pause the boy’s instant protest. “Hush before you ruin things further, perhaps you ought to listen to reason and logic? Ruled by your emotions,” he huffed sharply, sounding both frustrated and disappointed. “You might as well have been sorted into Hufflepuff.”

Draco steeled himself for whatever rant his father would give him and motioned for the man to continue.

“I will have Potter one way or another. I always get what I want. However, if you bring him to me, showing me that I can trust you once more, I will not only give you back the reigns of the business my heir should rightly inherit, but I’ll give you Potter as well. Not exclusively mind you, there is money to be made after all, but once Severus and I are through with him then we’ll let you have your reward,” he offered, a sick gleam in his eyes. “I promise he’ll be yours.”

“Because obviously your promises mean so much,” Draco spat; still clearly seeing Harry on his knees as he had been the night Draco discovered him as his mate. Only instead of himself drilling into Harry’s pert backside, he envisioned his Father there. The image brought a new wave of nausea over him.

A deafening bell rang in Draco’s ears before he could even register the sharp sting left from Lucius palm slapping his face. “Don’t you ever denounce my word again, Boy. Do you hear me?”

Draco fell to his knees when he saw his father’s wand pointed at his jugular. He swallowed thickly and could almost feel the potential curses trickling down the length of wood and into his flesh.

“If a reward doesn’t win your loyalty then perhaps punishment is the more appropriate method. Bring Potter to me or I shall bind you as a slave,” Lucius snarled. “If I can’t trust you to be my heir I might as well profit off of you. People would pay nearly as much to fuck my son as they would Harry Potter. Isn’t that right, Sev?”

Snape leered, nodding slightly as the corners of his mouth curved into a wicked smile. “I would be your first customer,” he assured him also answering Lucius’ question, “and I wouldn’t be as gentle as I was with poor innocent Potter. As the son of Lucius Malfoy though, I’m sure you like it rough.”

Draco whimpered as the Potions Master leaned down and claimed his godson’s mouth in a rough kiss, one so violent that it left the coppery flavor of blood in Draco’s throat.

“Yes, Severus prefers to top, though I never let him with me. I’m sure he’s itching to enact his displeasure at being my constant submissive for years,” Lucius mused and Draco saw the confirmation in Snape’s eyes. Draco’s father had broken something in Severus, driven him mad, and if given the chance, his godfather would unleash that madness upon his naked flesh.

“So, will you be a good son and do as your daddy tells you?” Lucius asked as if they hadn’t just been speaking of having Draco raped by his own godfather and countless others.

“Yes,” Draco whispered, still holding his place on the ground.

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you,” his father commented.

“Yes, Father. I’ll bring you Harry Potter,” Draco confirmed, bowing his head in defeat and shame. He’d just agreed to sell his Mate to the bloodiest wolves in the wood.

Author’s Note: I know, I know. You all hate Lucius and Snape. You’ll have to get over it though, because they are prominent figures to this story for good or ill. Would voodoo dolls make you feel any better? Oh, and for some who asked, this is a skewed take on the Incubi legends.