The Death Eater

Harry woke several mornings later to the sight of snowflakes tumbling past the window. He stretched a little, frowning at the arms restricting his movement. He was confused for several moments, wondering why there were arms around him and why he felt so weak. The memories slowly filtered through the haze of fever; memories of pain, of time spent in the dungeon. Then better, warmer memories of being cared for and looked after in ways no one had bothered with since his parents’ deaths.

He tensed as Malfoy’s arms tightened, and began struggling to escape. Malfoy gave and aggrieved sigh and kissed the back of his neck, mumbling “Good morning” softly to the flesh there. Harry shivered warmly, then stiffened as he realised he was naked. He growled and managed this time to pull out of Malfoy’s arms. Malfoy just stood up and snapped his fingers, summoning a House Elf who, with few spoken words, disappeared off to run a bath. Malfoy reached down and tugged until Harry climbed out of the bed or risked being pulled out. He flushed and tried to cover himself, but Malfoy just smirked and pushed him in the direction of the bathroom.

“Come, we haven’t much time for our baths, we have a busy day today.” Harry scrambled eagerly into the lavender-scented bath, grateful for the opportunity to cover himself. He squeaked and blushed horribly as Malfoy stripped off the little clothing he had been wearing and slid into the bath behind him, picking up the shampoo bottle. Harry struggled angrily to get away as Malfoy began washing his hair, but his attempts failed due to the collar’s intervention. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better today, Harry.” Malfoy said cheerfully, seemingly ignoring his charge’s bitter, angry struggles. Harry finally gave up, his body still weak from the infections, and allowed Malfoy to wash him. Harry was then forced to sit and sulk as Malfoy washed his own hair and body. His eyes widened when Malfoy handed him the wash-cloth and turned his back. “Do my back for me, Harry?”

Harry just stared at him in surprise for a few moments, before hurriedly putting the cloth to work as Malfoy stiffened and began to turn around. Harry was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. He daren’t think what Malfoy would do if he continued disobeying him.

Once they were washed, Malfoy helped him out of the bath (Harry hated that he needed the help, but he did) and began drying him. Harry struggled weakly again, but Malfoy just smirked at him as the collar did its job and forced him into submission. Harry vaguely remembered Malfoy doing this before, when he was ill; remembered revelling in the gentle touches and the feeling of being loved. The sweet memories were being destroyed now by Malfoy’s callous treatment of him.

Finally, the torment ended and Harry was fully dry. Malfoy left him some clothes to change into, apparently trusting him to perform this act on his own as Malfoy saw to his own dress. Harry nearly fainted with the pleasure of putting trousers on again, even if he did have to put one of the hated tunics on over the top. He turned to find Malfoy fully dressed in traditional Wizard day-wear, with a nicely designed robe and waistcoat. Harry felt ashamedly underdressed and classless, but pushed the feeling aside angrily; he hated how easily Malfoy had always managed to make him feel that way.

“The Medi-Wizard who has been caring for you has agreed to make a special dispensation for the day, and come to examine you. Hopefully you’re back to full health by now; you gave us both a bit of trouble over the last few days!”

“If my presence is so difficult for you, maybe you should have just sent me back to the Order.” Harry replied sweetly. Malfoy’s eyes darkened angrily, and Harry was pushed over the vanity with surprising ease. He cried out as Malfoy’s hand cracked painfully across his arse, hitting the same spots repeatedly.

“You’re going to learn, Harry mine, and you’re going to learn fast that you are mine. I don’t appreciate your cheek.” He snarled. Harry cried out and struggled until, as abruptly as the spanking began, it ended and he was righted, one hand going down to rub at his sore behind. He pulled it sharply to his chest as another smart slap was aimed at it, fighting not to glare at Malfoy. He tried to wipe away his tears as discreetly as possible, refusing to look anywhere near the other man.

Malfoy for his part had rescued the items on the vanity that had been knocked askew, and tugged the chair out. “Sit.” He ordered sharply, picking up one of the various combs on the surface. Harry eyed the hard chair dubiously, knowing this was going to be a very painful experience even as he sat. He was surprised to find that, instead of landing on the chair, he sat on a gentle cushioning charm that supported him without putting undue pressure on his tender backside. He didn’t mention it, but wondered at the kindness, and relaxed into Malfoy’s hands as he began combing through Harry’s hair. It was unexpectedly easy to comb, Harry assumed by the odd look of smug pride on Malfoy’s pale face that he had something to do with it.

Draco continued brushing through Harry’s hair easily, happy with the results of his special shampoo; and happier with the results of his punishment as Harry meekly allowed him to do as he pleased. He suspected the cushioning charm had been the key, and reminded himself that the little kindnesses after a punishment were the way to continue. It was with regret that he finished combing Harry’s hair as Yuna announced the Medi-Wizard’s arrival. He directed Harry wordlessly to the bed and seated himself in his chair, watching the other Wizard closely as he examined Harry.

Harry laid back on the bed uncomfortably as the Medi-Wizard began waving his Wand over him, muttering half-familiar charms as he examined Harry’s body. He twisted and turned as directed until the Medi-Wizard seemed satisfied by the exam and allowed him to relax. Harry waited to hear the verdict and was shocked and angered when the Wizard went to Malfoy instead, conferring with him in low tones. The man finally nodded and left, leaving Harry with a smug, happy looking Malfoy. Harry glared at him and exploded angrily when Malfoy merely raised an amused eyebrow.

“Why didn’t he tell me what he though? He should have spoken to me about my health!” Malfoy sat on the side of the bed and smoothed down Harry’s tunic top absently.

“Have you forgotten your lessons already, Harry? You’re mine, now, so it’s me he talks to not you. Your soul is yours to keep, and I’ll have your heart soon enough,” his hand touched Harry’s abdomen indicatively, “but your body, that’s all mine.” Harry scowled fiercely, but the painful throb in his backside quelled his tongue temporarily. Malfoy just smirked again, and stood up. “Time for presents, I think.” He announced.

Malfoy led Harry into the sitting room, where a tree had been set up and decorated beside a roaring fire. There were several parcels under the tree, and two steaming mugs on the table. They settled down close to the warm fire and Harry took a sip from his mug; moaning in pleasure at the frothy chocolate. Malfoy smiled happily and presented a small card to Harry proudly. Harry frowned at it and turned it over, the words “Allen’s Optical Specialist” making little sense to him. There was an appointment time on the reverse, dated for the following day. “What’s this?”

“It’s fairly obvious, Harry. An appointment with an optical specialist. There’s new cutting-edge magical procedures that can aid in eyesight, and that’s one of the best companies in England. Provided nothing comes up in the initial appointment tomorrow, they’re going to use magical surgery to reconstruct your eyes. It’s so you’ll no longer need to wear glasses.” Harry blinked, his mouth open in a soft “oh” as he looked up at Malfoy.

“I... Thank you, Malfoy...” He mumbled, flushing to the tips of his ears and looking back down at the card again.

“You’re welcome, Harry. I also got you something else as well; I thought you might appreciate this.” He opened the door to a cupboard and waved his Wand. A battered but very familiar trunk levitated out, followed by something even more precious.

“Hedwig!” Harry cried, holding his arm out for his precious familiar to land on. Hedwig did so with a happy screech, and began pecking soft kisses on his fingers and he stroked her lovingly. “How?”

“As you are of course aware, Severus plays quite the fine double agent. However, he made a miscalculation with me and I caught him trying to rescue you. I can assure you this is now impossible – should you try to leave or be taken off the Malfoy grounds without me, the collar will activate and you will suffer pain rivalling the Cruciatus until you fall into a coma from which you will likely never wake. Prolonged absence from the grounds will kill you. However, I have also added a Portkey to the collar, which will return you to safety should you leave. Either you activate the little button here, or it should activate when you fall unconscious.

Once Severus was caught, we began trading letters. I have assured him I will not reveal his true nature to Voldemort, and he has assured me that should it become necessary, I will always have the Order’s protection. I doubt we believe each other, but it makes us feel better and I am, nevertheless, speaking the truth. He provided the trunk and Owl. I have taken the liberty of removing the robes and storing them in the locked part of your wardrobe, but everything else in there is yours to enjoy.”

Malfoy then indicated the parcels under the tree. “Several of these are for you, your friends and family placed them in your trunk, but I thought they looked better under the tree.” The Trunk lay forgotten in the corner, and Malfoy picked up a red-wrapped parcel. He checked the label and smiled. “From Mum Weasley.” He handed it to Harry and picked up a parcel for himself, unwrapping a book. He read the title and sneered, before banishing it from the room. “Care and Maintenance of Pets and Slaves, my Uncle does have a twisted sense of humour.” He growled. Harry frowned, but said nothing as he stroked the Weasley jumper softly. He sighed sadly, wondering if he’d ever have a chance to wear it. Malfoy eyed his offering, before smiling.

“I wondered where you’d gotten those. I left the others in the drawer in your vanity. Aren’t you going to put it on?” Harry looked up at him with wide eyes, but said nothing as he tugged the warm, familiar jumper on. He hugged himself in it for several moments, relishing the warmth and comfort of the jumper and the woman who made it. He jumped a little as he felt arms wrap around him from behind to join in the hug, and Malfoy’s body tuck against his as he held him carefully. “She does a good job. Not something I’d have been caught wearing in public, but for a setting like this it is rather nice.” The body murmured into Harry’s ear, seeming to enjoy the comfort of the jumper. He pulled away shortly and settled down, eyeing the rest of his packages warily. Harry held the little box of home-made biscuits Mrs Weasley had made him, before shyly offering Malfoy one. He looked at him for long moments before smiling warmly and taking a biscuit from the box.

Harry reached out and took two packages, both wrapped in blue paper. He hesitated with surprise as he read the labels, before handing one to Malfoy. “From Mione.” He mumbled, tugging the wrapping off his own. His eyes filled with tears as he read the covers of the books in the packaging; ‘What to expect when you’re expecting’, ‘The Hermaphrodite Potion for dummies’, and ‘The little book of babies.’ The first page of the top book yielded a surprise in the form of Hermione’s delicate penmanship.

“Harry,

While I’m so sorry we couldn’t rescue you, I can only look at the baby I’m sure you’ll soon be carrying with joy. I know we’re young, but family has always meant the world to you, and I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you. Don’t give up hope, Harry, because we haven’t.

Love Hermione, best friend and soon to be Godmother.”

Harry put the books carefully to the side and took a mouthful of the hot chocolate, fighting back tears. One hand brushed over his abdomen cautiously, Hermione’s words forcing him to realise for the first time what this really meant for him. A family of his own. He couldn’t help the tiny smile on his lips, even as his heart strengthened and his resolve firmed. Some way, some how, Harry would make sure things went right, for himself and anyone else that came along.

“Your Granger is either suicidal or extremely clever.”

“Clever.” Harry replied absently. “What did she give you?”

“’The new father’s guide to babies’ and ‘The care and feeding of pregnant mates’, male edition. She also wrote a note telling me I’d better look after you, and our children, and see the light soon or she was coming after me with a shovel.” Harry laughed; a sharp, painful sound that tapered off into a sob. Draco wrapped an arm around him and banished all the books to Harry’s bookshelf, cradling the sobbing man gently. Eventually, Harry’s sobs trailed off and he pulled away from Draco. Draco let him go and reached for more packages. He raised a shocked eyebrow when he read the next names, and handed Harry his package. “Yours is from Severus, mine’s is from... Weasley.”

“Weasley? As in RON Weasley?” Harry gasped, looking over Draco’s shoulder. Sure enough, the label was for Malfoy from Ron. Harry watched suspiciously as Malfoy opened the package. The scowl on his face when he pulled out the stuffed white ferret inside was worth it all, and Harry couldn’t help the giggles. Draco glared at him, which only made Harry giggle harder. In frustration, he swatted him in the side with the stuffed teddy, managing to catch him between the jumper and the trousers in a sensitive area. Harry gasped and giggled again, prompting Draco to leap on him and use the fur of the ferret to tickle him further, until Harry was crying with laughter under him and begging.

“No, stop, please! Please... Draco stop!” Harry cried, giggling all the while. Finally Draco did stop, resting on Harry lightly, a ferret toy poking up between them. Harry looked at him with bright eyes and a smile on his lips, before stroking the toy’s fur. “He’s cute. Looks like you too.” Draco scowled again, which set Harry’s giggles off, and sat up. There was a label on the ferret too. He read it out to Harry.

“For baby Malfoy.” Harry stopped giggling and sobered quickly, sitting up and righting his jumper. “Weasley gave me a stuffed ferret to give to our child. What does that mean?”

“I dunno. He probably saw it and thought it would annoy you.” Malfoy glared at him, but was gentle as he put the teddy on the floor. He picked up the other item in the package, glaring harder at Harry.

“He gave me a Quidditch book.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... The Chudley Cannons.” He growled. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Really? They’re his favourite!”

“How can they be anyone’s favourite? They never win!” Malfoy protested. Harry glared at him.

“They don’t have to win to inspire loyalty!”

“He probably only likes them because they match his hair!” Malfoy retorted hotly. Harry glared angrily at him.

“Only you, you pretentious, self righteous prat could insult Ron when he’s trying to reach out to you even though you’re planning on raping his best mate! I can’t believe you sometimes!” Harry cried angrily. “And I can’t believe I’ve sat here with you, and opened presents with you like we’re FRIENDS, and, and I let you hold me and I cried! I hate you!” He yelled, abandoning the rest of his presents and running to his room. He slammed the door shut but couldn’t lock it, so slumped down against it; humiliation and anger overwhelming him.

Draco sat in the Sitting room, reeling in shock from what had happened. He glared down at the book, thinking that it was typical of Weasley getting between them even when he wasn’t there. He couldn’t blame him really; it had been his own fault. He sighed and began picking up the discarded wrappings, putting the book on Harry’s shelf beside the other two. He had a feeling he’d be spending a lot of time in here over the next few weeks, not wanting to leave Harry alone for even a moment if he didn’t have to until he was forced to return to Hogwarts.

He picked up the stuffed toy and, after a moment’s hesitation, settled it on the corner of Harry’s desk to put in the nursery. He picked up the rest of the biscuits and put them beside the hot chocolates on the table. Satisfied that Harry had been left for long enough to calm down, he knocked on the door.

“Harry? Harry, let me in.”

“Go away!” Harry shouted back. Draco winced at the tears in him voice.

“No. Harry... I’m sorry, alright. I spoke without thinking, I know he’s your best friend and I shouldn’t have insulted him like that.” Draco replied, thinking privately that he was going to have to wash his mouth out. And where did Harry get off, making him apologise like they were lovers or something? Harry was his slave! He was only there to have his children! “Harry, if you don’t open that door right now, I’m going have Tidus go in there and forcefully remove you from behind it. If I have to do that you will regret it.” Draco snarled, already imagining Harry crying out under his hand again. The cheek of the stupid brat!

The door opening interrupted his building ire, and Harry stepped out slowly, head bowed and eyes red. Draco’s heart melted and he reached out to Harry, trying to hug him. Harry flinched away and walked past him, reclaiming his seat on the floor.

“We’re not friends, and we’re certainly not lovers. I let myself get distracted and forget for a while, but it won’t happen again. I can’t let it happen again and then have you... have you... You have your orders, Draco, and I don’t think they include making nice with the prisoner before you rape him.” Draco flinched at the ugly words, but ignored them for now and sat across from Harry. He watched wordlessly as Harry finally opened the present Severus had sent him, surprised to find several potions and ingredients vials as well as a book, and a letter.

“Potter,

While pregnant, a Wizard will need a number of restorative potions to keep his health up under the strain. I have checked the contents of your potions sets, and have added several more ingredients here that you will need, as well as the recipes for a good draught, and a safe pain-reliever. I have included samples of both, each vial contains one draught,” Harry counted three vials of each potion, “I have also included an updated edition of a book that I wrote several years ago, detailing good potions for dealing with all sorts of childhood ailments, and basic ingredients for these. In your last years under my tutelage you have proved that you are not as much of an imbecile as I’d been lead to believe where potions are involved, and I can only hope that knowing you would be endangering your child’s life by making a mistake will be all the incentive you need to get these right.

My condolences and congratulations,
S. Snape.”

Harry wordlessly handed Draco the letter and moved the rest of the things over closer to his trunk, to put it with the rest of his potions equipment later. Draco laughed softly at the letter behind him, before banishing it to float gently down on Harry’s desk. Harry hated him in that moment for his casual use of the Wand. No doubt Harry’s own Wand, which had been lost in the initial fight, would never be seen again.

Harry and Draco had identical looking gifts under the tree, and when Harry opened his he found the Weasley twins’ typical gift; a collection of some of their newer merchandise. Malfoy had a similar gift from them also, which made him chuckle. Harry just looked at his sadly; no doubt the twins meant well, but half of these needed a Wand to activate, and none of it was useable – he wasn’t in an position to use this stuff on Malfoy, he didn’t want to annoy the Medi-Wizard and it was not in his nature to attack the House Elves. He put his box beside Snape’s potions, using the moment away from Malfoy as an opportunity to wipe away his tears. They were coming all too easily today and, despite the Hermione-like voice telling him it was highly sexist, he couldn’t help blame the new parts of him.

Harry opened his next gift, from Sirius and Remus, as Draco opened a gift from “Aunt Bella”. It took Harry several long minutes to realise who she was, and the paper suffered as a result. The gift inside wasn’t overly large, just a small book and a golden rattle. When he turned the rattle over, however, he found the words “Harry, all our love, Mum and Dad.” This time there was no stopping the tears that flooded down his cheeks as he looked at the little gift in his hands. This time when Draco reached out to him, Harry didn’t stop him despite all his harsh words. He just wanted someone to love him, was that too much to ask?

The rattle was banished tenderly to the desk beside the teddy, and Draco opened the book. The inside held a page inscribed “baby book”, with space for the baby’s name and date of birth. The next page was a waving photo of all of Harry’s family and friends, with semi-transparent labels only noticeable when you focused on one face. Names like “Granma Molly”, “Uncle Ron” and “Great-Godfather Sirius” caught his eyes, and he couldn’t help a smile. Harry had noticed what he was looking at, and was smiling tenderly as well.

It was Harry who once again broke contact, taking his last gift as he handed one to Draco. Draco had been almost expecting this, but at the same time the soft parcel from “Mum Weasley” still shocked him as he unwrapped it. The knitted object he pulled out was a warm blue scarf, not a jumper, but it had a little silver “D” stitched onto one end and a nice silver dragon on the other end. The accompanying note explained that she hadn’t had the time for a jumper, but she’d done him a nice batch of fudge anyway, and that more than made up for the non-existent slight in Draco’s eyes. Harry accepted a piece quietly, studying the note-book Dumbledore had given him. Harry didn’t show him the note that came with it, and Draco decided not to pry. He did raise an eyebrow at the very loud socks that accompanied the gift, but said nothing. Harry tugged them on and grinned at Draco, but the grin dropped to a horrified shock as he spied the pile of objects beside him. Draco winced as he looked at them.

“My Aunt’s idea of a gift. She’s... Not all there, and has thankfully never reproduced and never likely will.” He pushed the large bull-whip and horrific spiked plug further away, vowing to find some way to dispose of it later. Harry shuddered and eyed the other two presents under the tree warily. Draco opened Severus’ gift next, anticipating and highly grateful for the potions ingredients and books within. They were similar to Harry’s but both more advanced and more wide-ranged than his. Some of the ingredients and one of the books was for his NEWT classes instead, and he took care to separate these.

Finally he opened the last gift, from his father. It was, unsurprisingly, a book. Even though the man was in Azkaban and Draco had not spoken to him in over six months, he still managed to find a book that was pertinent, insulting and prejudiced. Harry scowled at the title ‘Rearing and breeding of good pureblood heirs.’ Draco just snorted and put it with Bella’s things.

“Obviously no one bothered to tell him the baby is going to be a half-blood.” Malfoy remarked mildly. Harry couldn’t help but noticing the difference between them both – although his family had little money, their gifts had been brilliant and well-thought out. Malfoy’s family had got him unwanted and useless sex-aids, or insulting and unwanted books. He wondered momentarily if this could explain some things about Malfoy, but pushed the thought aside.

Malfoy smiled at Harry, but there was something wary in that smile. “Looks like I just have one gift left then, Harry.” He stood and held a hand out for Harry, helping him stand as well. Harry was wary now, Malfoy’s words and strange looks causing a bad feeling to rise in the pit of his stomach. He followed silently as Malfoy led him down the corridor to another door in their hallway and opened it. He entered to find a room out of his nightmares.

At first glance, it was a nice room. It had been done in passionate reds, and had a small seating area with a table. There was a bottle of champagne and a punnet of strawberries on the table, the steam wisping from them indicating cooling charms on both. If this had been the only part of the room, Harry was sure he would have liked it, but it wasn’t to be. Further into the room was a large bed, a four-postered monstrosity with plenty of hooks and holes. It had no blankets but did have nice crisp white sheets, with dark pink and red pillows scattered over it. Malfoy rolled his eyes at the pretentiousness of the room. “The House Elves decorated,” he explained quietly. “They got their style from Mother.”

Harry sat quietly in the seat Malfoy indicated and accepted the glass of champagne numbly. When Malfoy dipped a strawberry in the champagne and offered it to him, he took a small bite from it thoughtlessly. Malfoy gave an oddly happy smirk and finished the rest of the strawberry himself, before lifting his champagne flute.

“A toast, Harry. To our child, who will be conceived on that bed; may he have his daddy’s eyes; may he be beautiful and intelligent; and may he have plenty of siblings.” Malfoy raised his glass and chimed it gently off Harry’s before swallowing a small mouthful. Harry hastily took several mouthfuls of the sparkling wine, the bitter alcohol going swiftly to his still-sensitive head. He felt a welcome numbness wrap him, and drifted in it as Malfoy fed him strawberries. He enjoyed the soft fruits, and couldn’t help the small erotic charge that built as they were brushed carefully over his tender, newly-healed lips, or as the slippery fruit slid down his throat. Regrettably the strawberries and champagne were quickly gone, and Harry’s time was up. He came back to his senses sharply when Malfoy stood and led him to the bed. He struggled, trying harder as his clothes, clothes he had so enjoyed receiving, were swiftly stripped from his body. He found sobs catching in his throat again as he was helpless to fight Malfoy’s nimble hands, and was soon pushed naked onto the bed. He continued struggling until Malfoy lay the first warm, oil-coated hands on his back and began, to Harry’s surprise, to massage him. Harry slowly relaxed into the touches, and by the time Malfoy was massaging the globes of his arse-cheeks, he was too relaxed to let the connotations occur to him.

He was so relaxed that the first lotion-covered finger pushed easily into him. He cried out and tried to pull away, but the invader was in too deep and he couldn’t expel it however hard he tried. He scrambled harder to try and escape as another finger pushed inside him. “Stop, no!” He cried, dreading what was coming next and hating the invasion on his body. “Why are you doing this?” He begged plaintively. Malfoy withdrew his fingers gently, and Harry collapsed weakly to the bed. He was worn out from his struggles already; due to the alcohol muddying his senses, as well as his recent illness; and he couldn’t keep the stamina to fight much longer.

He sobbed weakly, unable to fight as silky yet strong ties wrapped around both his wrists. They wove their way independently around one of the hooks in the bed and tightened until Harry was unable to tug away. He tried anyway, wearing himself out further trying to wrench his arms free, but gave up when he felt something around his ankles. At first he assumed it was more ties, but as his legs were spread and forced to stay open he realised it was something else, holding his ankles apart and exposing him cruelly. Malfoy climbed over him, obviously having used the break to strip himself, and kissed the back of his neck.

“Ask me to fuck you.” He whispered. “Beg me to ram my cock in you and get you pregnant.” He rumbled, sounding filth and seductive. The combination terrified and angered Harry, and he hissed. “Is that a no?” Malfoy asked, and Harry could just imagine the raised eyebrow. He shook his head, afraid that if he actually spoke he would do as Malfoy asked just to stop the wondering. Malfoy murmured “shame” softly, before pulling back.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief that was choked off by a scream of shock and pain as something was pressed to his anus and rammed into him. He arched and tried once more unsuccessfully to pull away as Malfoy began fucking him with the thing inside him. He kept crying out and pulling until suddenly his cry wasn’t quite as pained, and the feelings that speared through him felt good. He stuttered and stilled in shock, breath hitching in his chest. Malfoy wiggled the dildo for a moment, and then did something with magic. The dildo began thrusting slowly and smoothly, even though Malfoy had left the bed. Harry wiggled and squirmed under the torment, until eventually he began to relax into the movement. The next thrust was a rough push against whatever it was inside him that made that pleasurable feeling, followed by another short jab and another. Harry screamed.

Eventually he’d gotten used to this one, because the dildo switched to a heavy buzz next. Draco waited until it started thrusting in the same manner as the first assault again before climbing up beside Harry. “This is going to continue, never ceasing, always changing. It won’t let you get used to it; it won’t stop, until you say it. Just a few words; “fuck me Draco”, that’s all I need to hear, and I’ll make it stop.” Draco coaxed softly, rubbing one finger over Harry’s lips until he licked it automatically. Harry blushed as the finger was then applied to his stiffened nipple.

“M... Draco... Fuck... Yourself.” Harry hissed, before his voice became the louder near-screaming moans that accompanied the rougher thrusts. Draco shook his head and twisted the nipple viciously.

“Think about it, Harry. You’re going to get pregnant, either way. Wouldn’t you prefer to look at your baby, and to not be thinking that it was conceived in rape? Wouldn’t it be better for the baby?” Harry closed his eyes in pain and anger, but bowed his head in defeat.

“Please.” He whispered softly. When this obviously wasn’t enough, he gritted his teeth and growled. “Please, Draco... Please get me pregnant.” He couldn’t bring himself to actually ask the other man to fuck him, but this was a compromise he could do. Malfoy seemed to accept it, because the thrice-damned dildo was slid out. Malfoy stroked his gaping hole carefully, still prompting a hiss of pain. Harry felt him move for a moment, then another, much slimmer object was pushed into him. Harry felt the spreading tingles that accompanied a healing potion, then the release of his ankles. He was turned over, the hook in the bed rotating to prevent damage to his wrists, and there was Malfoy; settled between his legs like he belonged there.

Malfoy leaned over him and looked down, his hands fumbling with his hard erection to push it into place. For a moment Harry saw, not Draco Malfoy the head of his house, or the rapist, or the tormentor. Instead he saw a seventeen year old boy, fallible, insecure as every other teenager; fumbling at sexual experiences he might not be that experienced with. It allowed him to relax, feeling a deep kinship with the other boy. That lasted until, with a triumphant push, Malfoy speared into his body in a rush of pain and tearing that had Harry gasping, paralysed with pain. The pain passed soon enough, and Malfoy had cared enough to wait until Harry relaxed around him before he began thrusting. It still hurt, tears coming to and running down Harry’s cheeks as Malfoy continued to thrust. The pain wore off after a while, leaving only twinges as Malfoy pushed, and soon a heavy feeling of pleasure descended. Harry tensed and wiggled, making Malfoy groan. He cursed and thrust harder, catching Harry off-guard and making him gasp. Harry arched at the surprise pleasure, especially as it rubbed the plug in his tender anus. Malfoy reached down slightly clumsily and began stroking him. The combination grew too much and before he knew it, Harry was coming in sticky waves and a strange sucking clench that made Malfoy groan and come as well.

Draco ground into Harry a few more times before he pulled out, collapsing to the side. After a few moments he groped for his wand and waved it to release Harry’s hands. Harry instantly curled in on himself, tucking into a tight, sobbing ball. Draco reached out a hand to his back, but Harry flinched away. He sighed and stood up, tugging a robe off the hook on the wall and wrapping it around himself. He summoned a blanket from the small cabinet in the room and draped it over the boy crying desperately on the bed, before leaving. He’d have Tidus come and help Harry in a while.