Bound by Hatred

BROKEN

Draco watched him with an odd, expectant look on his face for the next several days, yet never addressed so much as one word to him. Harry\'s skin crawled under the other boy\'s gaze, and his nights were filled with fevered nightmares about just what Draco could have in store for him.

He knew Draco was plotting something… something more terrible than even the horrors he\'d already inflicted upon Harry. And because Harry could not possibly imagine anything worse than the times the blonde Slytherin had overpowered and raped him, he lived in terror awaiting this horrific unknown.

He avoided Hermione and Ron, hating the feel of their eyes on him. Harry couldn’t help remembering the feel of his fist crashing over Hermione\'s face, the fury in Ron\'s voice when he screamed at Harry for what he\'d done. He was so deeply ashamed of it, and he knew he didn\'t deserve the slightest consideration from them.

They couldn\'t help him. No one could save him from Draco. He couldn\'t tell anyone, and how could anyone possibly conceive of something so awful as these things Draco was doing to him? He would never have guessed Draco capable of something like this.

Yes, Harry had heard about rape before. He knew a little something of the world, despite his Aunt and Uncle\'s efforts to isolate him from any exposure to society as though he were some contagious illness. He\'d also heard about men who preferred men… mostly when Uncle Vernon complained about this one gay fellow higher on the totem pole at work than him. But he would never have imagined anyone would attack him in a sexual manner, and certainly not another man. He still couldn\'t reconcile with what was happening to him, and it was impossible to imagine something worse than what had already occurred.

So when Draco stupefied him unexpectedly in the hallway as Harry crept from Gryffindor Tower, and revived him on the floor of a classroom, Harry\'s stomach dropped in terror.

\"Missed me, Potter?\" Draco asked with a sneering smile.

Harry tried to jump to his feet. His limbs seemed to be made of butter, though, and melted beneath him. He felt a wave of panic at how lazy his body felt, every muscle involuntarily relaxed.

\"As much as I love punching that ugly face,\" Draco drawled, his pale hands snaking onto the sides of Harry\'s hips to twist the other boy onto his stomach, \"I cast a little charm to relax you. I think we\'ll skip the beating-you-into-submission part today, Potter.\"

I hate him, Harry thought as Draco\'s arm wrapped under his waist, pulling Harry up so his elbows and knees folded beneath his limp body. I hate him. I HATE HIM.

His cheek was slumped against the cool stone floor. He cast his eyes sluggishly about as Draco spelled off his clothing, but was unable to figure out just which classroom they were in.

Harry\'s eyes closed heavily as he heard Malfoy unscrewing the lid to a container. That wet stuff Draco used sometimes, he assumed. He remembered Malfoy complaining about his skin chafing when he was fucking Harry.

Yeah, well, Harry hoped Malfoy would one day feel what it was like on the other end.

He tried to let his mind drift as a slick finger wriggled into his entrance. He wanted to turn his thoughts to something else, but he couldn\'t think about Hermione and Ron. Too painful. He couldn’t bear to think about anything to do with Hogwarts. He couldn\'t think about the Dursleys or Sirius.

He felt strangely empty to realize there were no redeeming features left in his life. He had nothing pleasant to turn his mind to while Draco did this to him.

Oddly enough, he wasn\'t now very afraid of Draco\'s \'terrible retribution\', if the other boy was even going to exact it. In fact, other than using more of that slick stuff than usual and spending an abnormally long time with his fingers inside Harry, this was going pretty much along the lines of the normal routine.

He felt Draco ease himself into him, and at the back of his mind, Harry vaguely registered that it hadn\'t hurt. Usually Draco shoved in dry, or made some active effort to damage him. He\'d told Harry once how much he liked seeing blood on his penis; he\'d even tried once to make Harry lick it off, but although Draco could rape him, he couldn\'t force his victim to cooperate.

Never. Never never never.

Malfoy was doing something strange behind him. He kept shifting his weight around, changing his angle. He was thrusting very gently and easily, not pounding himself as painfully as he could into Harry\'s body.

Harry didn\'t think to wonder at it until one particular thrust sent a coil of unexpected pleasure through his body. He jolted beneath Draco, shocked. He felt the blonde Slytherin\'s grip tighten on the back of his neck as another gentle thrust sent that good feeling through Harry again.

It felt really, really good.

Harry\'s eyes shot open, and he was suddenly horrified at the delightfully wonderful feeling. He hoped Draco didn\'t realize--

It wasn\'t until Draco hit that strange spot a third time, and gave a malicious chuckle when Harry\'s back involuntarily arched, that he realized Draco was doing this on purpose.

He struggled again against his languid muscles and the other boy\'s tight hold. His body was too relaxed to clench in an active effort to force the other boy out; it seemed intent upon enduring passively Draco\'s assault, and Draco continued thrusting into him in that certain way. Harry\'s blood rushed to his erection, he felt his eyes cloud up with tears.

No, this wasn\'t going to happen! He wouldn\'t let this happen!

But the first erection since the day Draco raped him in Hogsmeade sprung relentlessly to life, and as the other boy picked up the speed of his thrusts, the feeling of pleasure only intensified. Once Harry even caught his hips in the process of thrusting back to meet that delicious sensation and forced himself to still.

\"Well, well, would you look at this. Potty seems to like taking it up the ass,\" Draco noted above him in a breathless tone.

Harry shook his head in fierce denial, and then found himself abruptly wrenched around onto his back. Draco loomed above him like some demon, grinning ferally down at Harry\'s undeniable erection. He withered back in humiliation at the sight of his own hard flesh--

HOW DID THAT HAPPEN!???.

\"You don\'t like it? Really?\" Draco said, hiking up Harry\'s limp legs and thrusting into him again, the pleasure sending the other boy\'s jolting beneath him. \"I haven\'t even touched your dick, Potter, and I bet you\'re going to come.\"

Harry shook his head convulsively, tears of horror and shame streaming from his closed lids. But even he could no longer deny what was happening to him, or the fact that his hips were thrusting up to meet the other boy.

Dear God, he was going to-- going to--

NO!!!!

His mind screamed in anguish and humiliation when the orgasm ripped through him. A horrified moan tore from his lips as he felt his own semen dribble over his torso.

He began to weep again when Draco\'s sweaty fingers smeared in his semen and wiped it over his face and lips.

\"Look at that,\" Draco noted with malicious amusement. \"You fucking liked it.\"

The pronouncement seemed to send Draco over the edge, because he stiffened and filled Harry with a groan of pleasure.

Harry\'s eyes were still screwed closed, his own semen drying on his cheeks. He wanted to scrape it from his face, but doing that would acknowledge what he\'d done, and he couldn\'t bear it. He couldn\'t bear it.

Draco tucked himself into his pants, still beaming.

\"Just remember this, Scarhead, next time you get all self-righteous and indignant on me. I gave it to you up the ass, and you liked it. You probably wanted more, didn\'t you, you fucking poof? I wonder if Dumbledork and your little friends know you\'re such a slut?\"

Draco laughed again.

\"Well, Potty, at least now you know it. That\'s good enough for me.\"

The other boy was still laughing as he sauntered out of the room.

* * *

It took him what seemed like hours to stagger to the nearest bathroom to clean himself off. Usually Draco was meticulous about erasing the evidence of their encounters, but he\'d left it to Harry this time to clean the come from his face and insides.

Perhaps this time he trusted that Harry had more to hide than he himself did.

Harry stood before his reflection in the mirror, scrubbing his face until the flesh was pink, scraping at it with his fingernails to rake away the very skin he\'d tainted.

Staring at his own face-- gaunt, hollow-eyed, and so shadowed with humiliation and fear-- something finally broke within him.

He at last hated someone more than Draco Malfoy.

* * *

He couldn\'t find it within him to fight the next day when Draco forced him down on the floor of the trophy room. When Draco finished, and Harry tried to pull away, a grip found its way into his hair and pulled him back.

\"Lick me clean,\" Draco ordered him.

Harry shook his head numbly, and the grip in his hair tightened.

\"Have you already forgotten last night, Potty?\" Draco sneered, his cruel, spiteful eyes boring down into Harry\'s. \"We\'ve already established you\'re a filthy whore. Do I have to show you again?\"

The thought of Draco doing that to him again made Harry\'s resistance whither away. He was sickened and ashamed of what he\'d done, and anything was better than learning how repulsive he was.

He could live with being forced because he had no choice. He couldn\'t live with enjoying it.

It was without a flicker of his dying emotions that Harry took the other boy into his mouth. He didn\'t even care when he saw Draco\'s face alight with triumph.

Malfoy had finally won.

But it didn\'t matter now. Harry Potter-- whoever that had been-- was dead.