The Way Your Brain Puts a Puzzle Together

Author's note--This was...weird to write. It's disturbing (I think so, anyway) Torture...non-consensual stuff...well, you'll see

This is also HBP-compliant (I think) Wherever the quote that "He was rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy" is in the book...let's say this story starts after that.

I think one of the reasons I'm unsure about this is because IT'S A ONESHOT (with SEX!) I kept it to a freakin 13-pages-in-Word ONESHOT! (Now you will see why all of my oneshots turn into novels)

See you on the other side
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The Way Your Brain Puts a Puzzle Together

Draco woke from his nap. Stretching his lithe torso, he sauntered to his closet and pulled out his favorite silver button-down shirt. He looked damn good it in, and he knew it. Black trousers, black socks, black shoes…but that shirt brought out the unusual color of his eyes. He wondered if Potter would appreciate that. Doubtful, since the Gryffindor git didn’t notice many minutias. Draco was a Slytherin, though, and named for dragons. He had been trained in the minutiae. He noticed the way Potter’s green eyes sparkled the color of summer grass with happiness—that was evident, even from across the room—when he got his weekly letter from Molly Weasley. Ron and Ginny would smile at what their mum would say, but Harry…Harry was downright giddy. He noticed the way Potter’s eyes dimmed to dark jade when they narrowed angrily after Draco ran his mouth again. He couldn’t help licking his lips slowly as Harry—Potter!—Potter strode towards him, that Gryffindor boldness again. He noticed the wonderful contrast of his ebony hair, styled in that just-shagged look that made him irresistible, and his eyes, even behind the rounded glasses. Oh yes, Draco noticed the minutiae.

Speaking of, he waved his hand, Accio-ing his wand and performing a Tempus spell. Merde! He was going to be late if he didn’t get going RIGHT NOW! Draco had finally convinced Harry to meet him out by the lake an hour after dinner. Somehow, feelings and all that rot were easier to talk about in the dark, and the blonde was more than ready to tell Harry how he felt. He suspected the other boy felt the same way; no, he KNEW that Harry was obsessed with him. Draco never did anything without knowing how it would turn out, and Crabbe and Goyle had been competent enough to lift Ron Weasley—still snoring, mind you—from Gryffindor Tower last night and tie him up in Slytherin’s common room. Standing up, arms outstretched, almost crucified, which is what he would be if he failed Draco. As loathe as he was to have anything to do with the Weasel, the Slytherin knew when he saw his best opportunity. Of anyone, Harry would talk to the red-head…right? He remembered the look of terror, then anger, and then Draco had to wipe saliva out of his eye just after Enervating the Weasel. Feisty one, he was.

He motioned with his hand, and Blaise and Pansy stepped out of the shadows. Pansy held a small glass dropper out to the boy in charge, and Draco squeezed the illegally brewed but just as effective Veritaserum down Ron’s throat while Blaise tipped the boy back, ensuring that he either swallowed or choked. He swallowed, even though there wasn’t much TO swallow.

“Weasel, what is your opinion of me?” As soon as it was out of his mouth, he realized it wasn’t the best question to test whether the truth potion was working because the red-headed Gryffindor hated him anyway.

“You’re a foul, loathsome, little cockroach! You’re a pathetic, stuck-up, Slytherin shit-for-brains, cowardly ferret!” Ron screeched.

“And what does Potter think of me?” Draco cocked his eyebrow. Ron’s eyes widened as he tried not to answer, but he was compelled.

“He-he’s obsessed with you,” Ron’s voice went from screaming to whispering in a heartbeat. Draco was floored, but his countenance didn’t change.

“Explain.”

“You’re all he ever talks about. He goes on and on about how much he hates you, wants you dead, and he’s always so worked up after your fights. And then I walked into our dorm room to get something out of my trunk, and he’s laying on his bed, wanking off and moaning your name! He must’ve been close because he didn’t notice me, and I’ve never SEEN so much…stuff in my life!” Ron’s face matched his hair. Ah, yes, Potter the Oblivious! The oblivious Saint who was screaming for Draco while beating his meat? Could it really BE that simple? Draco knew Weasley couldn’t lie under Veritaserum, so it HAD to be true.

“Did you talk to him about it?” Ron’s face turned redder, if possible.

“Only-only once. He apologized, and I said, ‘Hey mate, you do what you have to do to have one off.’ And I thought that would be the end of it, but NO! He gets this screwed up look on his face, and then he busts out with, ‘No, Ron, you don’t understand. No one makes me feel more alive than he does. It feels like…all of this bullshite with Voldemort is just a sub-plot, and my REAL destiny is to face him down, day after day. Ron, I have to stare at that perfectly-arranged blonde hair, and all I want to do is run my fingers through it until it’s messed up, and he’s screaming about it, under me. I look into those cold grey eyes that flame with anger, and I wish I could see what they looked like filled with desire. He licks those perfect lips of his, and it’s cheating because I suddenly forget how mad I am at him because all I want to do is snog the nastiness out of him.’

“I didn’t want to hear it!” Ron wailed, struggling against the ropes. “But he wouldn’t stop talking! I can deal with him being a pouf; that doesn’t bother me,” Ron sagged against his ropes for a second before straightening, staring Malfoy straight in the eyes, a ferocious protection gleaming as the Slytherin took a step back, surprised. “So help me, Malfoy, I hate the fact that he’s so into YOU! You, of all people! Now what are you going to do? Are you going to mock him for it, you stupid little ferret? You probably are, since you don’t have a heart.” Draco held up his hand, interrupting the Weasel’s tirade.

“No, Weasley, I’m not going to mock him for it. I’m going to snog him for it, and I need you to help me convince him that it’s a good idea.” The look on Ron’s face was PRICELESS.

“What?”

“I’ll make this simple for you. Tomorrow, before Potions, I am going to ask Harry to meet me after dinner. He’s going to refuse and then probably bitch and whine to you all day. Granger will probably agree with him, but you’re his best mate. You need to convince him to go,” Draco’s voice was matter-of-fact.

“Why the HELL would I help you?” Ron was gobsmacked.

“Because I’m going to be the best thing that ever happened to Harry,” he stated simply. Ron’s eyebrows shot off his face. “Ever since he turned me down for you…” Draco took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, he was admitting this to his rival’s best friend, but it felt like the right thing to do. “Ever since he chose you over me, I couldn’t stay away. First, second, and third year, yeah, okay, that was more about making you little Golden Gryffindors cry. Fourth, fifth, and now sixth year, this has been more about getting Harry’s attention. Making him focus on me, and not you.”

“I…I don’t want him…like that,” Ron said slowly, trying to absorb all of this information.

“Then you’ll help me?”

“Will you stop calling Hermione a Mudblood?” Draco’s eyebrow arched again.

“Why do you care about THAT?” Ron’s face turned red again, and this time he actually bit his tongue in an effort to keep from answering.

“Because I like HER…like that,” he admitted. Draco chuckled.

“Isn’t that precious,” normally there would have been a condescending tone, sneering, and a WHOLE lot of teasing, but seeing as how Ron and Draco were apparently in the same boat with the Gryffindors they liked… “Yes, I will. I only ever meant it when we were kids, but that was before I really knew and understood it. But yes, I’ll desist. So you’ll help me?”

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?”

“You’re going to have to trust me.”

“Ha! Fat chance of that! You have me freaking tied up here!”

Draco cocked his head; Ron had a point. He stood, circled the bound Gryffindor, and with a wave of his wand, Ron was free. He came to a stop in front of Ron, who was eyeing him suspiciously. Unexpectedly—almost reflexively—Ron lunged forward and smashed his fist into Draco’s abdomen, catching the Slytherin off guard and knocking the wind out of him as he went sailing back into Blaise and Pansy. Draco sprawled on his back, trying to figure out what happened. It had felt like there was a spear erupting through his ribcage, and for a second, he wondered if Ron’s fist had actually gone through his body and popped out his back.

The other two Slytherins were shocked as well, but Blaise recovered first, snarling at Ron, while Pansy comforted Draco, who was trying frantically to sit up and call Blaise off, but he didn’t have enough air. Blaise was advancing on Ron when Draco, panicking, finally forced out a thin “No! Leave him!” that caused Blaise to spin around in disbelief. Draco used Pansy as a crutch to get to his feet, Blaise grasping the blonde’s other outstretched hand to help.

“Draco, what the hell?” Blaise was confused. Draco was still gasping for air, but he looked Ron in the eye. An understanding passed between them. Draco shook his head and made some wild hand gestures that Pansy and Blaise didn’t exactly understand, but it was quite clear that Draco didn’t want them touching Ron.

“We-we understand each other now,” Draco wheezed out, holding his pale hand out to Ron Weasley, who grasped it, and they shook hands for the first time ever. Ron used it to pull Draco closer, releasing his hand and grabbing his lapel, until they were nose-to-nose, Draco stumbling over his feet.

“We have an agreement, Malfoy, but I’m warning you. Harry is like a brother to me, and he has a heart of gold. If you break that heart—or melt it or damage it in ANY way—so help me Merlin, you will spend the remainder of THAT day as a ferret before I AK you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Ron’s words were meant to make Draco tremble in fear, but he was a Malfoy. He recognized the sentiment behind them, though, and it made him smile to know that Harry had such protective friends. Ron eyed him for a moment longer, then shoved him roughly back into Blaise and Pansy.

“Stupid, arrogant Slytherin,” he muttered, stomping back to Gryffindor. Blaise courteously opened the door to Slytherin’s common room for him. “Never know what Harry sees in him, but so help me, if he hurts my best mate…”

“Okay, Draco, now that THAT’s out of the way, come on! I’ve been dying to watch the newest American Muggle horror film, but I can’t do it alone! You promised!” Pansy grabbed Draco’s arm and Blaise’s hand. Draco groaned, but it was just for show. They all knew he loved the horror flicks as much as Pansy. Blaise watched them just for the fact that he could cuddle his girlfriend, even though she professed to need both of her ‘Slytherin hotties’ there to protect her. Blaise couldn’t care less if Pansy wanted to hold Draco’s hand while burying her shoulder in her boyfriend’s chest; he knew Draco was gay, and honestly, sometimes he wondered if he should be the one to sit in the middle, since Draco squealed like a girl at the bad parts too, even if he vehemently denied it afterwards.

“Which one is it tonight?” They made their way to Pansy and Blaise’s bedroom. Pansy had gotten her hands on a Muggle laptop computer and charmed the battery to never run out.

“The remake of ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’! It’s supposed to be really good! I never want to go to Texas, though!” Pansy shuddered, popping the movie into the player and settling back between her boys.

Draco shook himself. The movie last night had NOT been a good idea. It was worse than most…very disturbing. Especially that final scene…Draco shuddered, pushing the images from his mind. He hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep after padding back to his own silent room, and as a result, he wasn’t at top form when he asked Harry to meet him. Harry had reacted typically, screaming ‘NO’ and shoving Draco away. The blonde was yawning through all of his classes, but he noticed that Harry had mellowed from ‘totally disgusted’ to ‘glowering at him from across the Great Hall’ during lunch. Draco was satisfied to note that Ron and Hermione seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion while Harry tried to stare Draco down. Hermione finally nudged Harry back to their table, and the moment was broken. Draco looked away, fighting the urge to giggle. He knew what they were arguing about.

After his afternoon classes, Draco had Quidditch practice. Thankfully, they didn’t have a game that day because the Slytherin Seeker was most definitely NOT at top form today. It had lasted until just before dinner, and Draco was about to fall face-first into his plate. He noticed that Harry had come down another notch from ‘glowering’ to ‘interested but stalkerish staring’. His eyes never left Draco’s form; every time Draco glanced over to the Gryffindor table (which was about every thirty seconds), a pair of piercing green eyes looked back at him, unblinking. Draco was thankful for the hour he had requested. It gave him just enough time for a short nap, which would hopefully energize him enough to actually put coherent words together to make Harry understand…and run like hell if he didn’t.

And now Draco was awake, ready, and about to be late for his own appointment! He yanked open his bedroom door and was about to open the common room door when a hand snaked out and yanked him back. He yelped in surprise as he was slammed into the wall, his head knocking back against the stone, and Blaise Zabini’s face was inches from his nose. There was a maniacal look on his face as he leered at his blonde best friend. Draco shoved against Blaise’s shoulders.

“Zabini! What the FUCK? Shove off, I’m late!” Blaise caught Draco’s wrists, pulling him forward. He stepped to the side, grabbing Draco by the scruff of the neck and violently shoving him into the middle of the room. It was then that Draco noticed the couches and everything were gone from the commons room, and there was only a cold stone floor. He looked up to see Pansy in front of him, winding a long piece of rope around her hands and smiling ferally. Next to her was the wooden ‘T’ they had tied Ron to last night.

“P-Pansy?” Draco’s voice was fearful, and he hated it. His hair was grabbed from behind, and he was forced to his knees on the floor. He couldn’t twist his head, but Pansy caught his attention as she flounced over to him, bending down so that she was eye level with him. He stared at her, frightened and confused, and his eyes went wide as she suddenly pressed her lips to his…hard.

“Mmmmphf!” was all Draco could squawk before her tongue found its way into his mouth, plunging, and he never imagined Pansy could be so rough and forceful. He let out another yelp as her teeth closed around his bottom lip, biting. This wasn’t passionate, though; that HURT!

“Do I have your attention now, Draco?” She asked, pulling back. Draco felt blood dripping down his chin. “Why don’t you pay attention to ME now?” He tried to answer and couldn’t. Blaise pulled him to a standing position by his hair and slammed him back into the wooden ‘T’ so hard that the top crossed part snapped off. If it weren’t for Blaise’s hold on Draco’s hair, he would have gone tumbling backwards. Pansy grabbed Draco’s wrist and tied the rope around it, tossed the other end up towards the ceiling, pointed her wand, and casted a Permanent Sticking Charm. She did the same to Draco’s other wrist, and he was now bound like a crucifix, minus the support of the wood at his back.

“Pansy, he’s into blokes,” Blaise taunted, answering her question from before. “He should pay attention to ME!” The black boy grabbed Draco’s hips, pulling them forward and rubbing his own hardened erection across Draco’s front. Draco gasped, and then blushed to realize that his own cock was responding! He could feel it swelling in his trousers, and he hoped Blaise wouldn’t notice. He had. He felt sure fingers close around his groin, and Draco couldn’t help letting his head fall back. He moaned as he was fondled over his clothes by his best friend while his best friend’s girlfriend watched. Blaise stroked him harder and faster until Draco was thrusting into Blaise’s fisted hand that was still. He began screaming in ecstasy, getting closer to the edge. Draco forced himself to look down—when had Blaise undone his pants?—but the sight of seeing his milky flesh enveloped by the cocoa-skinned hand sent him past the point of no return. He arched his back, feeling the jets that spurted, when suddenly, his chest erupted, and a jagged point appeared. He was so high that he didn’t notice at first, tears mingling with laughter at the marvelous orgasm, until he looked down and saw a bloody stake sticking out of his chest, and that’s when the pain began.

It was no small stake either; it was the bottom half of the crucifix! Draco began to cough up blood, and then he felt Healing Spells being casted. The blood stopped, and Draco felt his internal organs that had been impaled and damaged by the wood melt back together, making room for the damn thing. He could suddenly breathe normally and easily again, and the pain was minimal, even though it made him queasy to look down and see it protruding from his chest. He looked around for Blaise and Pansy, wondering why they were tormenting him, but they weren’t in his field of vision. Sharp pricks near his wrist and searing flares of now-familiar pain caused him to turn his head sharply. Pansy was standing near his right wrist, calmly poking a fishing hook through his skin, tying it to a wire, casting a quick spell to hold it in place (without tearing his skin), and moving up to his mid-forearm and repeating.

He probably should have been surprised, but he really wasn’t; he just watched her calmly, even though it hurt. She put one just above and below his elbow, and then divided his bicep into thirds, placing the last one just above the ball-and-socket shoulder joint. She moved behind him, and he felt her lips brush across the nape of his neck. Then the spear jerked him as Pansy accidentally knocked it as she went around to his other side, resuming her ‘baiting’ at his shoulder and working down to his other wrist. She stepped in front of him and observed her handiwork, nodding to herself and untying his wrists from the ropes. Pansy looked over Draco’s left shoulder and pointed. Draco wondered, but then he was suddenly raised up. He looked up and saw that all of the wires were attached to a bar that was rising.

He glanced over his left shoulder, seeing Blaise with wand outstretched, casting a Levitation Charm on the bar to ascend Draco about three feet off the ground. He was being held up by fourteen hooks in his skin and nothing else. Draco pressed his lips together, trying to keep the horror and nausea down. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. Snape stepped out of the shadows, pointing and laughing. Draco flushed at being seen naked by his Head of House and godfather. He suddenly realized that Harry would be waiting for him, his Harry, and he would think Draco stood him up!

“No hot date for you tonight, Draco,” Pansy purred, echoing his thoughts. “What on earth would Potter see in you, anyway? You’re nothing but a sniveling little coward. You heard Ron say how much he hates you. He could never love a narcissist like you.”

“No, that’s not true,” he whimpered. “He talks about me all the time.”

“He talks about how much he wants to kill you,” Blaise clarified.

“He wants to snog me,” Draco argued, feeling despair well up in his impaled chest. “He wants me underneath him.”

“You couldn’t be underneath anyone if you tried, Draco. You’re a Malfoy,” Pansy sounded exactly like Draco’s mother. “Malfoys are subordinate to no one.”

“But-but it’s HARRY!” Draco exclaimed, trying to make them understand.

“Why the HELL do you think the great, glorious, ‘Chosen One’ Saint fucking Potter sees in you? Do you honestly think you could make him happy? That you’re not just after him because of who he is? He’s in the spotlight, and you can’t stand it,” Blaise spit back. “You say you want him, but he’s only going to use you, hurt you, and throw you away, Draco, because that’s all you’re good for.” Draco felt Blaise’s hand close around his limp cock, caressing it again. Draco tried to block it out, but his eyes flew open as a second hand, with lubricant, was added. He couldn’t suppress the groan that rumbled from his throat as both hands jerked him to hardness, the slick pressure making him sway slightly, mingling pain with pleasure.

One of the hands grazed over his balls unexpectedly and worked its way up his ass crack to his tight, virginal hole. Draco whimpered louder, trying as hard as he could to kick his legs, but they were leaden and unresponsive. Soft hands continued to stroke his hardened cock—Pansy’s, Draco realized through his fog—which meant Blaise had to be behind him! More lubricant was added to his length, and he twitched involuntarily again, gasping as her wet palm slicked over and cupped his ball sac. Blaise was coating his ass crack liberally with lubrication, and then he began teasing Draco’s puckered hole, sliding just the tip of his finger in and out.

“If you want to be under him, then you’ll have to learn to take it in the ass, Drake,” Blaise’s voice warned him from behind. “Can you do that?”

“No, no, please don’t!” Draco begged, afraid. He knew Harry would be gentle, and he wanted the Gryffindor to be the first and only person to ever touch him like this.

“Listen to him; the little coward’s afraid! Draco, are you afraid?” Draco wasn’t sure if it was Blaise or Lucius who said that; the words morphed Blaise’s voice into Lucius’. Draco cried out again as a finger was shoved up inside of him roughly, breaching him for the first time against his will, and it was painful. The finger withdrew and rammed upwards, hard. It was still coated with lubricant, as were Pansy’s hands still manipulating his cock, but the lube was quickly drying. To Draco’s horror, the finger was joined by a couple more, and began dry-fucking him quickly. Pansy’s hands tightened around his cock, sliding over the skin at top speed. It began to burn as the skin-on-skin contact rubbed Draco’s prick raw, and he cried out over and over, but it never stopped. He called for Pansy to let go, and finally, mercifully, she did, his cock hanging, red and exposed. He pleaded with Blaise to stop pounding him, but it only got harder and faster. He began writhing, feeling the hooks digging into his skin, especially in his left shoulder, and he screamed in pain and violation, and the pounding continued, and he wished Harry would save him. He began to chant Harry’s name weakly, feeling a strange pressure on his right cheek, hearing his name being called frantically…

“Draco? Draco! Draco, wake up!”

Draco Malfoy sat straight up in bed, definitely no longer asleep but not quite completely awake, drenched from head to toe in sweat. Harry Potter sat beside him, on the edge of the bed, looking concerned and scared to death. Harry’s right hand was on Draco’s left shoulder, and his left hand cradled Draco’s tear-streaked cheek before Draco popped up, gasping for breath. He looked around sightlessly, wildly before his dilated pupils focused on the black-haired boy who was closest to him. Harry had no idea what his worst enemy would think of him sitting at his bedside, touching him. He half-expected those familiar grey eyes to narrow in anger as the blonde reached for his wand. He certainly didn’t expect to be pulled closer as Draco burst into tears and buried his face in Harry’s chest. Harry reacted instantly, putting his arms around the sobbing boy and stroking his back comfortingly. He laid his cheek on the fine blonde hair that was only slightly messed up—surprising, given the amount of thrashing he had done before waking. Harry’s words of comfort helped to calm Draco somewhat.

“Shhh, easy now. It’s okay, I’m here. It was just a nightmare, Draco. It’s over now. You’re safe now; I’m here,” Harry murmured, feeling the lithe body gradually stop its violent shuddering. Draco raised his face to look at Harry; he knew he was a mess, with tears and snot pouring down his cheeks, and he was a little embarrassed. As he became aware of the crowd of people surrounding his bed, however, his cheeks pinked.

Pansy was clutched in Blaise’s arms, tears streaming down her own cheeks, as both of them stared at him helplessly, over Harry’s right shoulder. Severus Snape stood next to them, his crusty countenance the same except that his eyes were wider than normal. Draco recognized that as indicating he was terrified. Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey, and Albus Dumbledore stood in a line near the foot of his bed, looking concerned. He realized that his mother and father were there—and that they were not only holding hands, but Lucius had his other hand locked around Narcissa’s waist, and they both looked terrified. Draco saw wetness in his mother’s eyes, even if she didn’t cry. Crabbe and Goyle were against the far wall, completing the horseshoe shape, with twin expressions of fear and confusion.

“Oh Draco, my darling, thank Merlin!” his mother exclaimed, stepping forward to plant a ruby-red kiss on the top of her son’s head.

“Draco, are you okay?” Pansy took a step forward, retreating quickly, eyes wide, when Draco looked at her and cringed, hunkering down into Harry’s arms.

“Alright, the boy is awake. Problem solved and mission accomplished. Everyone out,” Draco recognized the stern, no-nonsense voice of his godfather, even from Harry’s stomach (where his face was currently pressed), and he silently thanked the man. Even Snape retreated, closing the door, leaving Harry, Blaise, Pansy, and Draco alone, promising to be in the commons room if they should require his assistance.

“Draco…what happened?” Blaise and Pansy sat on the opposite side of the bed from Harry. Draco sat up and willed himself to calm down. It had been a dream…just a dream…but what a fucking nightmare! Draco chose not to answer Blaise’s question, instead posing one of his own.

“Why was everyone here?”

“Well, Draco, we knew you wanted to meet Harry, so Pansy made me check on you about half an hour before your little appointment,” Blaise said. “You were sweating horribly and kind of turning your head. I went and got Pansy, and we tried to wake you up. You started biting your lip, and then you started twisting from side to side. You wouldn’t wake up!”

“You started moaning, and it sounded almost…sexual…in nature,” Pansy continued, her tears stopping as soon as she was sure her friend was okay, but she blushed as she recalled Draco’s lusty noises. “We were going to leave, but then you…you started screaming, and that WASN’T sexual. We ran to get Snape, but even he couldn’t pull you out of whatever was happening to you! Pomfrey tried too, and McGonagall, but nothing worked! Dumbledore Fire-called your parents, and they came right away, but when they called your name, it seemed like you sunk deeper into your nightmare. Then…then you started mumbling for Harry.” Draco’s face looked openly shocked and very un-Slytherin. Harry sat quietly, his eyes never leaving Draco’s face as Draco’s friends told him what happened.

“I went and got him, and he was able to snap you out of it, thank Merlin,” Blaise said quietly. “Thanks, Potter.” Harry tore his eyes away from the blonde’s to give Blaise a tight-lipped smile.

“Don’t mention it, Zabini. I’m glad you did.” Harry’s emerald gaze locked back onto Draco’s face, and both Pansy and Blaise realized they had been forgotten. Pansy, though, brushed a hand over Draco’s hair before they left, not noticing how Harry’s eyes narrowed for a second in jealousy.

“Draco, babe, I’m glad you’re okay. Enjoy your appointment,” she whispered, closing the door behind them. The two rivals were alone. Harry suddenly realized that his hands had never left Draco’s wrists, where they had fallen when Draco sat up. He looked into Draco’s face; Draco was also looking at their hands. Harry’s heart swelled to bursting as he observed Draco’s relaxed face, pale skin, perfect features, and lowered eyes.

“Malfoy?” Harry’s voice was uncertain and wavering. “That must have been one hell of a dream.” Draco’s lips twisted into a humorless smile.

“It wasn’t a dream, Harry,” he said, meeting his eyes boldly when he called his former rival by his first name. Harry shivered involuntarily. “It was a nightmare, and I was praying you’d save me…”

“So I heard,” he replied evenly. “You wanted to meet me after dinner?” Draco nodded. “What about?”

“This,” Draco leaned forward, closing his eyes and brushing his lips against Harry’s in a light kiss. Harry, too, closed his eyes and kissed back, feeling the soft pressure from Draco’s lips encircle his; there was a delicious heat between his lips that ignited Harry’s glands.

“Draco,” Harry sighed against Draco’s mouth, scooting closer to the blonde. He felt Draco’s arms wrap around his neck approvingly. He wasn’t all that surprised. Well, he had been this morning when Malfoy approached him, and Harry knew better than to fall for any trap Malfoy might set. Hermione had agreed with him, but the strangest thing was that Ron, of all people, thought he should go! His red-headed friend thought Malfoy might want to help find the Horcruxes or something, but just then Hermione had butted in, arguing with Ron, leaving Harry to glare at Draco, trying to suss out his intentions at lunch. He had cornered Ron before dinner and practically beat the confession out of him. He had NOT been expecting to hear that A. Ron and Malfoy were now on ‘understanding’ terms; B. Ron had told Malfoy how Harry felt about him; and C. Malfoy returned the feelings! He couldn’t help staring at Draco all through dinner, trying to figure out when the blonde had fallen for him and when he had started desiring Draco. He had been antsy after dinner, even heading down to the lake early. He had been crushingly disappointed when their time had come and gone, but not ten minutes later, Blaise Zabini came flying out to the lake, grabbed Harry by the arm, and proceeded to haul him back to Slytherin, explaining in clipped (out of fear for Draco) sentences what was happening to the blonde. Harry remembered how his heart sped up when he saw the terrible mind prison Draco had locked himself in, but he had apparently given Harry the key…

Harry’s heart was certainly racing again now, but it was for completely different reasons. Somewhere in their snogging, Harry’s clothes had gotten lost, and he noticed Draco was naked as well, kneeling in between Harry’s knees with his perfect mouth sucking the tip of Harry’s cock. Harry never felt anything like it, and his hands smoothed Draco’s hair back as he watched his length disappear down Draco’s throat, relaxing as one cool hand cupped his balls gently. He reluctantly pulled Draco’s head away, leaning down to kiss the surprised blonde, but if Draco kept that up, it would be over much too quickly.

“Draco, I want you…I need you…” Harry let his sentence hang in the air. “Please?”

“You want to…?” Draco asked, aroused but suddenly nervous as he remembered his nightmare. “Who is on…?” Harry had no idea what Draco’s dream had been, but he recognized fear in those adorable grey eyes; he couldn’t stand the thought of Draco afraid, so he hurried to reassure him.

“Your choice, lover,” he whispered, caressing the back of Draco’s head and neck, squeezing gently in a one-handed massage. “I’ll bottom first, if you want…I trust you.”

Draco looked up at him, stunned. He nodded slowly, reaching for the tube of lubricant he kept in his nightstand. Harry watched him move with the grace of a panther, a pale, blonde, delicious panther (with trust issues) but Harry knew beyond a doubt that he wanted this boy, because of, in spite of, and regardless of either of their flaws and imperfections. He rolled over onto his stomach, pushing up to his knees, with his ass in the air, looking over his shoulder at Draco. Draco crawled up behind him, slicking his finger and pushing it gently into Harry. Harry wiggled his hips as the new sensation entered him, trying to get used to the silky invasion.

“I’ll try not to hurt you,” Draco whispered. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.” Harry could sense this was a sore subject for Draco.

“I’m not made of glass, sweetheart. I can stand a little pain. Actually, I can stand a lot of pain,” he admitted, hoping this would reassure Draco. “I even like it.” He couldn’t bear to look at Draco, burying his face in his hands. He gasped as he felt two fingers enter him this time while Draco’s other hand laid gentle caresses on his lower back. He felt Draco opening him, preparing him, and he whimpered slightly when the fingers were withdrawn. He felt the head of Draco’s cock against his virgin hole, and he tried to push himself onto Draco’s length. He felt Draco’s hand reach around and wrap around his half-hard cock, thrusting all the way into Harry in one fluid motion. Harry let out a moan, his cock hardening all the way in Draco’s palm, and it felt so good that before Draco could even move, Harry was bucking his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Draco’s cock and pushing his length through Draco’s fist.

Draco’s hips suddenly slammed into his, bumping his prostate, and it drove Harry into a new dimension of pleasure. Draco’s hand left his cock to grab his hips, pumping into Harry over and over as Harry screamed his approval, urging Draco on. Draco’s grunts turned him on so much, and he nearly came when Draco’s cock pulsed, coming inside of Harry.

Draco bucked his hips into his lover that final time, came, and fell back, shuddering. Harry turned almost immediately and devoured his mouth, his hands roaming down Draco’s body, and Draco knew what he wanted. He couldn’t help himself; he began to cry. He wanted to curl up and die rather than not return the favor, but the combination of his dream, his fear, his first real sexual experience, and Harry’s expectation overwhelmed him and left him defenseless. Harry stopped immediately, rolling off of Draco, but pulled the crying boy to his chest.

“What is it, love?”

“Here, just fuck me and get it over with,” Draco muttered, disgusted with himself. He detangled Harry’s arms and turned his backside to Harry, not able to keep from breaking into fresh sobs. Harry shoved his hips away, scooting around so that he was lying practically under Draco, trying to look in the elusive grey eyes that were currently spilling tears, and Harry didn’t know why.

“No, Draco, I don’t want to ‘fuck’ you unless that’s what we both want,” he said firmly, trying to soften the sting by touching Draco’s wet cheek with his fingertips.

“Use me, Harry. Just fuck me and throw me away. That’s all I’m good for, anyway.”

Harry himself teared up at the blonde’s words. He didn’t understand why Draco would think that, but Draco was wrong.

“No, babe,” he choked out, crying himself. “I’m not going to use you or throw you away. I want you…I love you. Draco, I’ve never said those words to anyone, but I…I love you!” Draco stared at Harry in amazement. “I would never hurt you, my little dragon. You are my ray of sunshine in darkness.” Lost in a battle in his mind, Draco curled into Harry’s arms, and they cried together until Draco sat up, cleansed of his fear and his nightmare.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’m ready now…I was just afraid before, but I…I trust you, Harry Potter, and I love you too!” Draco smiled at the way Harry’s face lit up earnestly, and he sat up. He leaned in for a kiss, but Draco pulled away, eyes sparkling mischievously. “I like pain too,” he confessed. “Just not a lot…but a little is good.” Harry smiled sweetly, leaning forward to nibble on Draco’s bottom lip. He laid Draco down on his back, with Harry on his side beside him, and snogged him senseless, Harry’s strong hands roaming over his body, freely and erotically touching him until Draco was practically babbling with lust. Harry picked up the lube, and Draco raised his knees, hoping Harry hadn’t seen the fearful look that flitted across the pale face. He had. He pushed Draco’s knees down, kissing him some more, and rolled Draco onto his side so that his back was to Harry, and Harry scooted close, slipping one hand under Draco’s top thigh and opening his legs, pulling the elegant leg across his own tanned one, sliding his lubed hand up the inside of Draco’s thigh to caress his hard cock, his balls, all the while kissing the boy’s neck.

Draco was so lost in the pleasure Harry was bestowing upon him that he didn’t even notice at first as Harry slid a finger inside of him. This didn’t feel anything like the dream! It was pleasurable, and when Harry put a second one in and crooked his fingers against that spot in Draco, he began to whine out of need. Harry gently pulled Draco to his knees, rubbing his calloused hand over that smooth back before opening his cheeks and pressing his thick cock against Draco’s entrance. He added extra lubrication before thrusting gently, careful not to damage the boy. It was the opposite for Draco as it had been for Harry; where Harry had taken it in one stroke, he went a little bit at a time, pausing to kiss Draco’s back when it trembled and pulling him flush against Harry’s chest, whispering words of encouragement and love.

Once Harry was completely inside of him, and Draco was comfortable, his mood swung the other way, and he wanted it hard and fast. Harry took Draco’s mood swing in stride, happily obliging by battering Draco’s prostate with short thrusts. On impulse, Harry reached forward and grabbed a chunk of Draco’s blonde hair, eliciting a gasp as he pulled Draco’s head up, gentle and yet forceful, pleasurable but not painful. Draco’s vision blurred, and he came, screaming his love for Harry as Harry fucked him to his own completion.

Completely spent, Harry rolled onto his back, and Draco crept into his arms, completely at peace with sodomy and Harry Potter. Draco was laying completely on top of Harry, Harry’s arm curling around the blonde’s head. He murmured another “I love you” into Draco’s bangs, planting a soft kiss on his lover’s forehead before drifting into a satisfied sleep. Draco wasn’t sure if he REALLY wanted to go to sleep again, but hey, he was in Harry’s arms. Nothing bad could happen here; and he marveled at his black-haired savior. They fit together perfectly, and neither of them even realized it…until now.

“It’s amazing the way your brain puts a puzzle together,” Draco whispered into the silence that was only interrupted by Harry’s deep, even breathing. He was talking about his dream and his newfound love. “I love you, Harry.”
**********

Author's note--*cringe* Well? I know, it's weird. I don't know where the 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre' idea came from, but if you haven't seen that movie (**SPOILERS** sort of) one of the final scenes is this guy who has been hung on a huge meat-hook...alive. It's disturbing.

Can you see all of the different elements of Draco's dream and where they came from to fit together crazily like that?

I just don't 'do' subtle, but I'm hoping that you see it all. If you have questions, though, I'll be more than happy to add an "Author's Explanation" or talk to you through email if you want.

I resisted the urge to turn it into a longer story (already have too many of those). Did it seem odd/disjointed to you? It sort of did to me, especially the sex scene. Maybe "disjointed" in the sense that Draco probably wouldn't 'really' get over his low self-esteem that quickly, so it's slightly unrealistic in THAT sense (and I HATE it when I write unrealistically) but I guess that was my goal for this.

OH except for the fact that I'm thinking in pictures lately, so my inspiration for the final scene (Harry on his back, holding Draco to his chest) was the most tender black-and-white pic of Harry and Draco I've ever seen! It just twists my heart every time, and if you want me to attach it so you can have a twisted heart too, just shoot me an email!

Just to get it on paper and out of my head so I can concentrate on my OTHER stories! Thanks for reading!