Tricked.

"Stop it! For fuck's sake, Draco that hurts!" Harry squealed when he felt the burning point of Draco's wand press against his ass, the scent of singed flesh filling the air. He hated this, hated himself for letting this keep happening, but most of all he hated how much Draco enjoyed hurting him. Tears slid down his cheeks, dripping off his chin to fall and sting where they touched the small round burns on his chest. He knew the damned marks were all over his body, and he flushed with humiliation.

The simple fact was, it was his own fault that he was in this situation, and he couldn't blame anyone but himself. Sure, he hadn't expected this when he'd first approached Draco, but how could he have expected anything less from the boy who hated him? When he'd found the ambiguous and challenging note in his pocket after their confrontation on the first day of school, he had fought to ignore it. For weeks he'd reread the sneering words in their slanted, haughty scrawl. Come find me, if you think you can handle what I have for you.

He hadn't come even close to guessing what the words had meant, but he'd spent agonizing weeks trying to figure it out. What could Malfoy have for him? He'd come very close to throwing the note away and deciding it was just a prank, but the possibility that it might be important overcame his will every time. He knew from Ron that Draco's father was involved with the guy who'd killed his parents, maybe Draco had something of theirs? The thought of owning some precious item that had once belonged to his parents had finally sent him in search of the cruel blond.

Another searing point of pain brought Harry back from his thoughts and he shrieked, jerking in his bonds and sobbing pathetically. "You are...such a fucking prick!" He saw the anger flash in Draco's eyes, knew that the pain would end if he just gave in and begged like the Slytherin wanted. He could feel the words wanting to tumble from his trembling lips, but he bit them back viciously. No, he wasn't going to give the crazy fuck the satisfaction. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and willed Draco to explode under the force of his hatred.

The first time had been the worst, because now he knew what was coming, then he'd expected some wonderful, priceless link to his past. He'd been so fucking stupid. He'd found Draco in the library, lounging about and looking supremely bored, his books open on the table in front of him, forgotten. Harry knew now that his face must have been practically glowing with the hope of some reconnection with his parents, no matter how weak. Draco had probably savored the idea of shattering that pitiful hope.

"Draco?" He'd murmured, feeling weird using the boy's first name, but he'd been almost desperate at that point and wanted to make himself as ingratiating as possible. Draco had glanced at him, and if Harry had been less naive, he would have seen the flicker of contempt in the other's eyes, but he'd missed it entirely. "What?" The word had been hard and cold, and Harry's heart had dropped into his feet, fear tangling him up in knots. What if Draco planned to taunt him with whatever he had, but never give it up?

"I...want to know...what you have for me." Harry had been struggling to breathe properly at that point, his heart thundering away in his chest anxiously. He'd do anything to own something that had belonged to his parents. How fucking dumb could he be? Draco had grinned slowly, and that expression had sent a spiral of dizzying anticipation through Harry's body, because he'd thought that Draco was possibly nicer than he'd believed. Harry knew now, of course, that the smile had been one of triumph. Had he truly ever been that young?

"Follow me." The first order in what was to become many, and the idiot he'd been had obeyed with a smile. God, it almost sickened him now to think how pleased he had been that Draco seemed accommodating. Of course he'd been accommodating, he was getting exactly what he wanted! Harry thrashed at his bonds, snarling as the scorching tip touched his nipple, and the stink of his own cooking skin rose thickly to his nose. "I fucking hate you, you arrogant, narcissistic asshole!" He spat at Draco, jerked his arms, wanting to claw his snobbish expression to ribbons.

Part of what made these sessions so awful was Draco's silence, beyond a few orders, he never spoke and it drove Harry mad. That first time he'd merely thought Draco wanted privacy for their meeting, so he'd silently padded along after him like a fucking lost puppy. When they'd headed down into the dungeons, a niggling worm of fear had started moving about in his gut, but he'd stayed silent. And if Draco planned to beat the shit out of him before handing over that most-coveted gift, then it was worth it, right?

Merlin, he'd been such a perfect patsy. No different than a man walking blithely to the gallows, thinking it kind of his jailors to allow him a bit of fresh air. They'd walked in silence, down deep into the bowels of the castle until they'd reached a door Harry had never seen before. Draco had knocked calmly and the door opened, Harry couldn't see who had opened it, but still...he'd followed the blond into the room. Followed only to find himself trapped by his own foolishness and hope.

"Stop a moment, Draco." The silky, jaded voice rose from Harry's right and he jerked his head up, panting and trying to toss his sweat-drenched hair from his eyes. They tracked around the dim room to settle on the tall, thin figure seated in the straight-backed chair nearby, anger surging once more in his stomach as he caught sight of the smile curling the bastard's lips. It had all been planned by this evil prick. He'd been played like a Stradivarius, and now he'd never be free of those long-fingered, dexterous hands.

The room had been cold and dark, and his fear had leapt like a candle flame in a breeze, turning to full-blown panic in a matter of seconds. This wasn't right, something was wrong. Still, he'd had no clue just how wrong it was, not until he'd heard Snape's voice behind him. The tone had been as low and satisfied as a well-fed cat, and Harry's panic had gibbered through him ever more intensely as Snape had spoken. "Very good, Draco. He cracked far quicker than I anticipated, though I am hardly complaining. Go ahead and disarm him, please."

Harry's hand had snatched for his wand, but Draco was far too quick for him and it had flown neatly from his pocket and into the blond's hand. He had turned, backing up as he watched the boy hand over his only means of defense to the rangy Potions Master. They were looking at him as if he were a treacle tart, or, better yet, as if they were hungry snakes and he was a juicy field mouse. His heart had tried to pound clear out of his chest, and suddenly he fetched up against a wall, panting wildly. "Let me go!"

His shout had come out as a whimpering whisper, instead, and he had very nearly lost control of his bladder, terror making him tremble under their intent gazes. Sliding along the wall, he had swiftly found himself literally backed into a corner, and yet neither of them had moved. They were toying with him, and he'd had a sudden, and long overdue, insight that this had all been some sick game. He'd melted to the floor under the realization that he might not leave this dimly-lit room alive.

Harry was jerked roughly back from his dazed reverie by the feel of cool, dry hands stroking over his bare back and buttocks, a low moan of protest rising in his throat. Nails scratched agonizingly over the small, circular burns in his flesh, drawing more sobs from him and making him strain to escape their cruel touch. The urge to beg for release rose almost irrepressibly in his chest and he parted his lips, but his stubbornness reasserted itself and he hissed. "Get your filthy, fucking hands off me, cocksucker!"

The hands dropped and he screamed as his punishment for his insolence sent waves of nausea and pain vibrating through his very bones. Why did Snape seem to enjoy crushing his balls so much, damn it? The maddening, aching pressure subsided, but his abused testicles continued to throb sickeningly and he shuddered with a whimper. He'd never last if they continued on this way, he'd simply lose his mind and the idea almost seemed comforting. If he was crazy, at least he wouldn't have to face this anymore.

His mind rolled back in time and he retreated from the abuse of his body, remembering their stillness as if it were yesterday. Both of them standing just inside of the closed door, staring at him without blinking, looking like statues, but for the unknowable lusts that swirled in their eyes. Every second that ticked by only made the rabid rat of Harry's panic gnaw deeper into his mind. He'd pushed back into the corner, praying to melt into the stone, and finally he'd cracked. "Do something! For fuck's sake, do something already, you crazy fucks!"

Harry had never used words like that before, but he'd learned them all from Dudley, Uncle Vernon and the kids at his Muggle school. Every nasty word he knew flew into his mind and he had hurled them like stones at the pair of Slytherins, shrieking his fear into the room so it wouldn't be inside of him anymore. "Cocksucking, motherfucking pricks. Fucking say something, you goddamned bastards!" And still, they'd only stood and stared at him, and he'd collapsed back against the wall, tears finally tearing loose of him. "I fucking hate you. Why don't you go wank each other off or something?"

Once he'd started with the cursing, he hadn't been able to stop, somehow each dirty word soothed his fear a little more, though he was still sobbing wretchedly. He'd barely realized when they'd swooped in on him and before he could so much as draw a deep breath, he'd been tied up and hung from a hook dangling from the ceiling. "What...the fuck are you doing?" His anger had woken back up and banished his tears, and then he'd squawked indignantly when his clothes had suddenly disappeared.

The ghosting of breath against the side of his face brought him back and he blinked wearily, twitching back as his gaze met silver eyes, Draco standing close enough that his robes scraped against the burns on Harry's body painfully. "Back off, you arrogant bitch. Your breath smells like Snape's dirty asshole." A hand rose and slapped him hard, sending bright glittering shards of pain through his face and bringing blood from one nostril in a slow trickle. He moaned weakly, wanting so desperately to give in and plead for his freedom, but his willpower was too strong.

"My asshole is not dirty, Harry. It's very clean, in fact. You should know that." The silken, teasing words made him cringe and shudder, not wanting to think about what had proceeded Draco's game of Burn the Potter. What they did to him was not nearly as bad as what they forced him to do to them. He drew away in his mind, returning to his self-flagellating contemplation of his own stupidity that first time they'd taken him.

His terrified and wary question had gone unanswered, but in the next moment, he'd felt a hand sliding between the cheeks of his ass and he'd not needed any further explanations. He'd tensed, tugging to try and tear free of the hook, screaming more expletives and insults as the small, insensitive fingers had shoved into him. It had set off both a primitive panic and pain within him, and suddenly he'd been weeping again, trembling and pulling, trying to escape. Still, even then, he hadn't once begged for his release. He'd just babbled random curse words and twisted to try and pull from that rude touch.

Draco had not spoken the entire time he'd forced first two, then three, and then finally all five fingers of his hand into Harry's virgin ass. The silence made it worse somehow, and Harry had finally dissolved into wordless sobs, feeling sick and feverish with shame. The pain had become too much to bear, and so it had gone away some place and left him feeling strange and distant from himself. He knew there was blood dripping down his thighs, knew he was broken, possibly irreparably, but all of this was thought separate from emotion.

((Hate to end it here, but I can only sustain the mood needed for a story like this for so long. I'll finish it up tomorrow, scout's honor.))