Fic: Corruption Sequence, Fic 2 - Distortion Part 2
Title:Distortion (Corruption 2)
Part: Part 2 (link to Part 1)
Author: Beren (aka Didi)
Email: beren@dtwins.co.uk
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: This story is set post OOTP although it has no specific spoilers.
Genre: Slash
Corruption Sequence: Corruption Distortion Alteration
Summary: Voldemort died at Harry's hand, just like the Prophecy said, but is there a life for Harry after what the Dark Lord has done to him?
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta. The pieces that were floating around in my head after the end of Corruption finally made some sense, so here's the sequel. [Edit - it's in two parts because it was too big for one entry ::g::]
My Fanfic Listings (LJ) | My Fanfic Listings (DreamW)
====
Transport it turned out was a secure portkey and he, Malfoy, Dumbledore, Remus and Tonks all arrived in the headmaster's office just under an hour later. By this time Harry had clothes that were actually his size, which made him feel a little more comfortable, but he was quite frankly terrified of himself. The moment they landed, Harry felt the power of the school like a blanket around him, and it was almost as if he could reach out and touch it.
The magic sang to him and he found himself quite fascinated, looking around the study as if he had never seen it before. The darkness within him rose at the sensation of such energy and he wanted to touch the walls to see if they would give up their secrets. It was as he was fighting to hold himself still that the sixth being in the room made himself known, as Fawkes launched himself into the air with a trilling song.
The Phoenix landed first on Malfoy's shoulder, much to the Slytherin's shock, singing his heart out the entire time and then the bird jumped to land on Harry's. When Fawkes came to rest on him the Phoenix's song changed, but was still just as sweet, and Harry felt his knees go weak. If it hadn't of been for Remus he could have fallen as all strength left him.
Fawkes continued to sing and Harry began to become light headed, but it was strangely wonderful as well and his mind soared free of the darkness curling around his body. He sagged into Remus' arms, and, for the first time since Voldemort had kidnapped him, he felt at peace. Nothing mattered, nothing but the Phoenix's song.
Harry woke up very slowly feeling rested and at ease, which was a very pleasant surprise. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was and how he had ended up there. Sitting up rapidly he looked around at a room that was totally unfamiliar, but the feeling around him was the same and he knew he was still at Hogwarts. This had to be the Room of Requirement, but it was like he had never seen it before. He was sitting on a large four poster bed that had deep red sheets, just like in Gryffindor tower. There was an open door to the right where he could see a large bathroom and to the left was a library type area with shelves full of books and a large desk.
Unable to stop himself he reached out with the power inside his body and felt for the wards around the room; it was like hitting a brick wall and he lurched back onto the bed as the wards threw him off. He threw the pillow next to him in frustration as the part of him that wanted to be free rounded in anger, but his fit of pique did not last long. He calmed down surprisingly quickly as far as he was concerned and began to wonder what exactly was going on with him.
There was a letter sitting on the bedside table addressed to him so he picked it up and opened it quickly.
Dear Harry,
Fawkes' song appeared to affect you quite distinctly, and we brought you to the Room of Requirement while you were under his influence. I do hope you slept well. Dobby has access to the room and if you need anything just call for him. If you are open to visitors tell Jeremy Kats, the portrait next to the door and he will allow us in if we call.
Rest assured we are all working to find a solution to your unique situation.
Yours,
Albus Dumbledore
For a while Harry just sat there looking at the headmaster's neat cursive script; he was home, at Hogwarts, and yet he felt like an alien. Then again he felt like a stranger in his own skin so it wasn't as if he had expected to be comfortable with his new surroundings.
Climbing off the bed he padded into the bathroom and tried to ignore the mirror on the wall as he relieved himself. He did not want to see the changes in himself, but as he washed his hands he really couldn't avoid seeing at least a partial reflection and he snatched his gaze away at the treacherous glance. He was turning away when he became angry with himself; how could he go through life afraid of his own reflection? Thumping the basin with his fist he glared at himself in the mirror and refused to flinch away.
"What are you?" he demanded of his reflection.
He could not understand how something so ugly on the inside could look so beautiful on the outside. His thoughts were full of death and violence, and yet ethereal, alluring features stared back at him from the mirror. He was a contradiction, and it repelled him; he was the devil in disguise.
How many creatures waited behind his green eyes to devour the innocent and unwary? He had not heard from Professor Snape yet, so he really did not know what to expect until it happened. So far he had concrete proof of incubus, vampire, werewolf, banshee and Dementor. There was also his sense of the emotions around him which he assumed was something to do with the incubus and the boggart, possibly also the Dementor and he had no idea why he could move through solid objects, or why he seemed to have a vague desire to absorb magic.
Of course, of all things, there was also the basilisk: about the only aspect of this he had to be thankful about was that his skewed version of the creature appeared only to be able to petrify and not kill with a look. If that Auror had dropped down dead he suspected he would now either be surrounded by the corpses of those defending their colleague, or be dead himself; Dumbledore or no Dumbledore. What else lurked beneath the pale surface?
Reaching out, he touched the mirror as if it would answer all his questions, but cool green eyes just continued to look back at him. Could be ever hope to control what was inside of him or would it consume him? Turning from his reflection he walked quickly back into the other room; at least here he had something to distract his troubled thoughts and he walked over to his small library. If he could not fight what he was, at least he could understand it, and he set about trying to find a book that might have information about the magic that curled through his body.
====
"Mr Potter," a voice said from behind him as he leafed through his third book on magical creatures.
He turned, surprised to have been addressed and found that the empty frame beside the door was no longer without an occupant. A smartly dressed seventeenth century gentleman looked out of the canvas at him.
"Hello," Harry responded, unsure of why the portrait would be talking to him.
"I'm Jeremy Kats," the man introduced himself, "and Professor Dumbledore asked me to look after your door. Normally I wouldn't interrupt you, since you have not given me notice to alert you of visitors, but there is a Slytherin outside to see you, and he is rather insistent. Should I allow him in?"
Harry was beginning to suspect there was some sort of calming charm on the room, since he felt more stable now than he had since he first woke up, and he nodded. If Snape had come to see him it was probably important, and hopefully the Potions' Master would have some news.
"Yes, thank you," he replied politely.
Jeremy disappeared and Harry went back to the page he had been reading, not looking up again until he heard the door clicking closed. When he did glance towards the entrance he froze; it wasn't Snape.
"Expecting someone else, I see," Malfoy said casually and walked further into the room.
Harry suddenly found that maybe the alleged calming spell on the room was only so useful, as every cell of his body screamed and would have lunged at Malfoy like first years onto the welcome feast, if he had not been clutching the table as if his life depended on it.
"Are you insane?" Harry asked, desperately trying to keep himself in check.
Malfoy was back in school uniform, but Harry did not think he had ever seen anyone look quite so edible, and in his case that was literal as well as figurative.
"We need to talk," the interloped said pointedly and was definitely not walking back towards the door.
"Malfoy," Harry said, his voice deepening with a slight growl, whether he liked it or not, "remember what I did last time we were alone? Get out before I do something we will both regret."
If he had been hungry he would have pounced on Malfoy without a second thought, as it was, lust and various other desires stirred in the pit of his stomach and he could barely stay seated.
"No," Malfoy said simply and sat on the bed.
Harry closed his eyes and tried to banish the mental images that move put into his mind. Occlumency abandoned him as he fought to empty his thoughts only to have his very prominent instincts provide him with yet more possibilities.
"I don't blame you, Potter," the words dragged him back from the edge of the pit he was looking into and he glanced over at Malfoy, unsure of what to reply. "I admire your strength of character."
Harry would have laughed if he had not been so afraid that the reaction would be his undoing.
"That strength is failing," he said rather desperately.
The longer he was in Malfoy's presence the harder it became to ignore what his body was telling him and the quieter the voice of control was speaking. They were alone, there was not a raging battle going on and there was nothing else for Harry to focus on: the Slytherin had his undivided attention.
"Malfoy, every fibre of my being wants to do that to you again," Harry could think of nothing that might make the Slytherin leave except the truth, "please go."
For a few moments his focus of awareness did not move, the Slytherin remained elegantly poised where he was sitting, and then he rose to his feet. Harry closed his eyes and tried to hang on for the long seconds it would take Malfoy to cross the room to the door. Only as the click of the door did not come and he realised that feelings of curiosity, trepidation and want were assailing him, did he look up in shock and realise that his prey had not walked towards the door.
"I know," the Slytherin said from no more than a few inches away, "I can see it every time you look at me. Potter, I owe you for my life twice and for my mother's once, you can have whatever you want. They have locked you in here with no idea what to do when the hunger returns; well I am your solution."
Breathing was difficult as pure, unadulterated lust tried to strip Harry of any control he had left. The hunger was not forcing him along, burying his humanity in its intensity, but he wanted Malfoy with everything he was, and he almost reached out.
"No," he growled, more at himself than Malfoy and sent his chair skittering backwards as he pushed himself away from the table and away from the Slytherin, "I don't want you indebted to me, Malfoy. I don't want to use you; you are better than that."
Momentary shock flicked across the Slytherin's pale features, but he still did not move away. For a moment Malfoy appeared indecisive and then he shrugged off his outer school robe and put it on the table. As Harry watched, caught between fascinated horror and wanton desire, the Slytherin stepped up to him once more and reached out to touch the side of his face.
"Maybe I want this too," were the quiet words that became Harry's undoing.
There was only so much self control that he could manage and with that gesture Malfoy snapped Harry's will like a twig. The incubus surged to the surface as it tasted victory and he dragged his prey to him, forcing their bodies against each other and their lips together. Malfoy met his passion with equal fervour and the kiss left them both breathless and bloody by the time they pulled back; each having bitten the other at some point during the act.
Malfoy's eyes were bright with the same delirium that Harry felt running through his body and all doubt fled his mind. This human was willing and his: there was nothing else that mattered.
"Take off you clothes," he commanded firmly, knowing that if he had anything to do with undressing Malfoy, there would not be a lot left of the Slytherin's school uniform.
There was no hesitation in Malfoy's movements as his prey moved to obey and garments were shed with graceful efficiency. Harry watched every move and drank in the sight as pale skin was revealed to him. Malfoy did not even pause at his underwear, simply shedding it as well until he stood in front of Harry as naked as the day he was born.
There was nervous excitement coming from his prey as Harry looked Malfoy up and down, but this was not the same frightened human he had taken to him last time. The Slytherin stood with confidence and desire in his stance and it drew Harry like a moth to a flame.
He moved forward, placing a hand on one pale shoulder and for a moment holding himself completely still to admire what was on offer. Malfoy was perfect and, if his skin had not been warm, Harry could almost have believed it was made of creamy stone.
The Slytherin was really much bolder this time and as Harry paused Malfoy took the initiative, lifting hands to start unbuttoning the loose shirt Harry was wearing. As fingers unfastened buttons and pushed aside fabric, Malfoy replaced them with his mouth and Harry found himself surprisingly not in control. Not that he was complaining as he put his head back and closed his eyes, revelling in the sensation of Malfoy's teeth and tongue on his chest.
When the Slytherin worked his way onto his knees, reached Harry's waist and carried on going with the whole removing clothing and then using his mouth idea, Harry had to grab the side of the desk to stop his knees giving way. Sensual, warm hands pushed his trousers and his underwear towards the floor and Malfoy fixed his wonderful mouth on Harry's throbbing erection. They were too far from the wall and Harry did not want to bother with the brain power to remain upright. Entwining his fingers in Malfoy's hair he pulled the Slytherin back from him with a firm, smooth movement.
Grey eyes looked up at him from behind blond lashes with the most wanton expression and Harry could not help smiling.
"Bed, now," he said decisively.
He had not bothered putting on shoes and socks after he woke up, so he stepped out of his garments easily and then pulled Malfoy back to his feet using his current grip. The Slytherin did not resist and came easily, winding his arms around Harry under his shirt after he was released and kissing him leisurely before turning and doing what he was told. Following Malfoy to the bed Harry allowed himself to be kissed again and pushed back on to the bed. Then the Slytherin went back to what he had been doing and Harry arched into the touch, enjoying the opening of his senses as he became more and more aroused.
Not being in sexual control was a new sensation, not that Harry was particularly experienced, but the incubus part of him knew what he was doing; and not taking control seemed somehow wrong, yet deliciously wonderful at the same time. He arched his back, spread his legs to give Malfoy better access and let himself enjoy the skilful ministrations of his willing victim. Whatever else Malfoy might have been, he was definitely not sexually inexperienced with persons of the same gender.
The more the Slytherin caressed him, the more he wanted and Harry lifted his head, needing to see Malfoy as his bed fellow touched him. He felt the changes begin in his body as dexterous fingers played with the inside of his thighs and Malfoy sucked him in deep. The moan that began deep in his chest came out of his mouth in a long breathy sound as he watched small ridges rise out of his skin to form little blunt spines in two long lines.
Malfoy pulled back, breathing hard and watching in fascination at the alterations occurring to Harry. The Slytherin's hot gaze was almost as erotic as his sinful tongue and Harry literally swelled under those eyes. He looked directly into Malfoy's face as he felt his body responding and when he was descended on again he put his head back and called out his encouragement to the room in general. With Malfoy's hand working the quickly slicking shaft and the Slytherin's mouth working the head it was not long before Harry arched completely off the mattress and came with shuddering gasps.
His bed partner did not stop his ministrations until Harry collapsed back on to the bed. Then the Slytherin looked at him with a very smug smile, which did nothing to quench the fires of desire that rather than being satisfied with his incredible orgasm were actually burning brighter by the second.
He pounced as soon as he could gather the muscle control to move and he rolled Malfoy on to the bed. His first instinct was to turn his prey over and take the Slytherin as he had before, but Malfoy held his ground as Harry tried to flip him.
"Let me see you," the Slytherin requested breathlessly, "please."
Harry sat back, positioning himself between Malfoy's legs and looking down at his prize. He knew he would not be resisted if he chose to insist, but he liked looking into those powerfully emotive eyes. Pushing his lover's legs up and apart he ran his hands down the undersides of Malfoy's thighs. He moved his fingers to run them over his companion's sensitive balls and further down between the cheeks of his arse. The long nails on his fingers retracted automatically as he chose to put his fingers to other uses, but what he found was an entrance already slick and ready.
"You came prepared," Harry said with what he suspected was rather a manic smile.
"Of course I did," Malfoy replied, curling his hands into the bed sheets as he spoke, "I'm a Slytherin."
With a slight shift of hips and a little thrust up, his prey made himself very clear, and Harry did not hesitate to take up the invitation. Malfoy grunted when Harry breached him, but the Slytherin did not tense and Harry slid in smoothly. The gasp from those talented lips was one of unbridled pleasure.
"Make me scream again," Malfoy said breathlessly.
It was not a request Harry had any intention of denying and as he pulled out slightly he placed his hands on his lover's hips and pushed the smallest amount of power through his limbs. Malfoy moaned and pulled on the sheets, his legs falling apart further and Harry took the opportunity to push back in. The almost ecstatic panting that came from his lover as he did so, and the rush of pure sexual energy Harry felt let him know that he had struck the right spot.
Now he was feeding off Malfoy's sexual high as well as his own, and nothing could have stopped him pushing his lover to the limit. Thrust after thrust he drew moans and sighs and words of encouragement, while the whole time those grey eyes pinned Harry down. When he reached down to take hold of Malfoy's straining erection his lover almost threw his head back and closed his eyes, but pure obstinacy seemed to have hold of the Slytherin and he did not look away.
Harry stroked his lover in time with his movements and Malfoy's sounds became totally incoherent; the words didn't make sense any more. His prey was almost there, so close to the edge that Harry could taste the energy in the air around them. Thrusting in hard one more time he fisted Malfoy's cock and forced magic through his hand. Now his lover's eyes did close and his head went back as he came, screaming Harry's name. The power release hit Harry like a wave and he climaxed for a second time, collapsing onto Malfoy as the concussion force of sex magic and sexual release meeting took his mind away for a moment.
When he came back down from the high, he found himself nose to nose with his lover and grey eyes were once again looking at him. That gaze was sated and sexually replete and a little smile played at the corners of the Slytherin's mouth.
"Was that loud enough?" Malfoy asked irreverently and all Harry could do was smile.
They were still intimately joined and part of him did not want to give that up, but the incubus was satisfied and Harry felt his body shutting down accordingly. It did not feel as if the sexual predator was far below the surface, but he did not believe that Malfoy was in any state for another round and, reluctantly, he climbed off his lover. He was not really sure what their relationship was, but he liked it none-the-less.
They lay spooned against one another with Harry holding Malfoy in a loose embrace, drifting in the post coital haze. Harry found that the darkness within him had other, less pleasant plans for his lover, but the voices were very dim and easy to ignore. This was as close to appeasing both sides of his nature as he could possibly come, and he did not want it to end. Tightening his grip slightly on his relaxed companion, Harry chose to push other thoughts away and enjoy the warmth of the moment.
The End
Part: Part 2 (link to Part 1)
Author: Beren (aka Didi)
Email: beren@dtwins.co.uk
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: This story is set post OOTP although it has no specific spoilers.
Genre: Slash
Corruption Sequence: Corruption Distortion Alteration
Summary: Voldemort died at Harry's hand, just like the Prophecy said, but is there a life for Harry after what the Dark Lord has done to him?
Author's Notes: Thanks to Soph for the beta. The pieces that were floating around in my head after the end of Corruption finally made some sense, so here's the sequel. [Edit - it's in two parts because it was too big for one entry ::g::]
My Fanfic Listings (LJ) | My Fanfic Listings (DreamW)
====
Transport it turned out was a secure portkey and he, Malfoy, Dumbledore, Remus and Tonks all arrived in the headmaster's office just under an hour later. By this time Harry had clothes that were actually his size, which made him feel a little more comfortable, but he was quite frankly terrified of himself. The moment they landed, Harry felt the power of the school like a blanket around him, and it was almost as if he could reach out and touch it.
The magic sang to him and he found himself quite fascinated, looking around the study as if he had never seen it before. The darkness within him rose at the sensation of such energy and he wanted to touch the walls to see if they would give up their secrets. It was as he was fighting to hold himself still that the sixth being in the room made himself known, as Fawkes launched himself into the air with a trilling song.
The Phoenix landed first on Malfoy's shoulder, much to the Slytherin's shock, singing his heart out the entire time and then the bird jumped to land on Harry's. When Fawkes came to rest on him the Phoenix's song changed, but was still just as sweet, and Harry felt his knees go weak. If it hadn't of been for Remus he could have fallen as all strength left him.
Fawkes continued to sing and Harry began to become light headed, but it was strangely wonderful as well and his mind soared free of the darkness curling around his body. He sagged into Remus' arms, and, for the first time since Voldemort had kidnapped him, he felt at peace. Nothing mattered, nothing but the Phoenix's song.
Harry woke up very slowly feeling rested and at ease, which was a very pleasant surprise. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was and how he had ended up there. Sitting up rapidly he looked around at a room that was totally unfamiliar, but the feeling around him was the same and he knew he was still at Hogwarts. This had to be the Room of Requirement, but it was like he had never seen it before. He was sitting on a large four poster bed that had deep red sheets, just like in Gryffindor tower. There was an open door to the right where he could see a large bathroom and to the left was a library type area with shelves full of books and a large desk.
Unable to stop himself he reached out with the power inside his body and felt for the wards around the room; it was like hitting a brick wall and he lurched back onto the bed as the wards threw him off. He threw the pillow next to him in frustration as the part of him that wanted to be free rounded in anger, but his fit of pique did not last long. He calmed down surprisingly quickly as far as he was concerned and began to wonder what exactly was going on with him.
There was a letter sitting on the bedside table addressed to him so he picked it up and opened it quickly.
Dear Harry,
Fawkes' song appeared to affect you quite distinctly, and we brought you to the Room of Requirement while you were under his influence. I do hope you slept well. Dobby has access to the room and if you need anything just call for him. If you are open to visitors tell Jeremy Kats, the portrait next to the door and he will allow us in if we call.
Rest assured we are all working to find a solution to your unique situation.
Yours,
Albus Dumbledore
For a while Harry just sat there looking at the headmaster's neat cursive script; he was home, at Hogwarts, and yet he felt like an alien. Then again he felt like a stranger in his own skin so it wasn't as if he had expected to be comfortable with his new surroundings.
Climbing off the bed he padded into the bathroom and tried to ignore the mirror on the wall as he relieved himself. He did not want to see the changes in himself, but as he washed his hands he really couldn't avoid seeing at least a partial reflection and he snatched his gaze away at the treacherous glance. He was turning away when he became angry with himself; how could he go through life afraid of his own reflection? Thumping the basin with his fist he glared at himself in the mirror and refused to flinch away.
"What are you?" he demanded of his reflection.
He could not understand how something so ugly on the inside could look so beautiful on the outside. His thoughts were full of death and violence, and yet ethereal, alluring features stared back at him from the mirror. He was a contradiction, and it repelled him; he was the devil in disguise.
How many creatures waited behind his green eyes to devour the innocent and unwary? He had not heard from Professor Snape yet, so he really did not know what to expect until it happened. So far he had concrete proof of incubus, vampire, werewolf, banshee and Dementor. There was also his sense of the emotions around him which he assumed was something to do with the incubus and the boggart, possibly also the Dementor and he had no idea why he could move through solid objects, or why he seemed to have a vague desire to absorb magic.
Of course, of all things, there was also the basilisk: about the only aspect of this he had to be thankful about was that his skewed version of the creature appeared only to be able to petrify and not kill with a look. If that Auror had dropped down dead he suspected he would now either be surrounded by the corpses of those defending their colleague, or be dead himself; Dumbledore or no Dumbledore. What else lurked beneath the pale surface?
Reaching out, he touched the mirror as if it would answer all his questions, but cool green eyes just continued to look back at him. Could be ever hope to control what was inside of him or would it consume him? Turning from his reflection he walked quickly back into the other room; at least here he had something to distract his troubled thoughts and he walked over to his small library. If he could not fight what he was, at least he could understand it, and he set about trying to find a book that might have information about the magic that curled through his body.
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"Mr Potter," a voice said from behind him as he leafed through his third book on magical creatures.
He turned, surprised to have been addressed and found that the empty frame beside the door was no longer without an occupant. A smartly dressed seventeenth century gentleman looked out of the canvas at him.
"Hello," Harry responded, unsure of why the portrait would be talking to him.
"I'm Jeremy Kats," the man introduced himself, "and Professor Dumbledore asked me to look after your door. Normally I wouldn't interrupt you, since you have not given me notice to alert you of visitors, but there is a Slytherin outside to see you, and he is rather insistent. Should I allow him in?"
Harry was beginning to suspect there was some sort of calming charm on the room, since he felt more stable now than he had since he first woke up, and he nodded. If Snape had come to see him it was probably important, and hopefully the Potions' Master would have some news.
"Yes, thank you," he replied politely.
Jeremy disappeared and Harry went back to the page he had been reading, not looking up again until he heard the door clicking closed. When he did glance towards the entrance he froze; it wasn't Snape.
"Expecting someone else, I see," Malfoy said casually and walked further into the room.
Harry suddenly found that maybe the alleged calming spell on the room was only so useful, as every cell of his body screamed and would have lunged at Malfoy like first years onto the welcome feast, if he had not been clutching the table as if his life depended on it.
"Are you insane?" Harry asked, desperately trying to keep himself in check.
Malfoy was back in school uniform, but Harry did not think he had ever seen anyone look quite so edible, and in his case that was literal as well as figurative.
"We need to talk," the interloped said pointedly and was definitely not walking back towards the door.
"Malfoy," Harry said, his voice deepening with a slight growl, whether he liked it or not, "remember what I did last time we were alone? Get out before I do something we will both regret."
If he had been hungry he would have pounced on Malfoy without a second thought, as it was, lust and various other desires stirred in the pit of his stomach and he could barely stay seated.
"No," Malfoy said simply and sat on the bed.
Harry closed his eyes and tried to banish the mental images that move put into his mind. Occlumency abandoned him as he fought to empty his thoughts only to have his very prominent instincts provide him with yet more possibilities.
"I don't blame you, Potter," the words dragged him back from the edge of the pit he was looking into and he glanced over at Malfoy, unsure of what to reply. "I admire your strength of character."
Harry would have laughed if he had not been so afraid that the reaction would be his undoing.
"That strength is failing," he said rather desperately.
The longer he was in Malfoy's presence the harder it became to ignore what his body was telling him and the quieter the voice of control was speaking. They were alone, there was not a raging battle going on and there was nothing else for Harry to focus on: the Slytherin had his undivided attention.
"Malfoy, every fibre of my being wants to do that to you again," Harry could think of nothing that might make the Slytherin leave except the truth, "please go."
For a few moments his focus of awareness did not move, the Slytherin remained elegantly poised where he was sitting, and then he rose to his feet. Harry closed his eyes and tried to hang on for the long seconds it would take Malfoy to cross the room to the door. Only as the click of the door did not come and he realised that feelings of curiosity, trepidation and want were assailing him, did he look up in shock and realise that his prey had not walked towards the door.
"I know," the Slytherin said from no more than a few inches away, "I can see it every time you look at me. Potter, I owe you for my life twice and for my mother's once, you can have whatever you want. They have locked you in here with no idea what to do when the hunger returns; well I am your solution."
Breathing was difficult as pure, unadulterated lust tried to strip Harry of any control he had left. The hunger was not forcing him along, burying his humanity in its intensity, but he wanted Malfoy with everything he was, and he almost reached out.
"No," he growled, more at himself than Malfoy and sent his chair skittering backwards as he pushed himself away from the table and away from the Slytherin, "I don't want you indebted to me, Malfoy. I don't want to use you; you are better than that."
Momentary shock flicked across the Slytherin's pale features, but he still did not move away. For a moment Malfoy appeared indecisive and then he shrugged off his outer school robe and put it on the table. As Harry watched, caught between fascinated horror and wanton desire, the Slytherin stepped up to him once more and reached out to touch the side of his face.
"Maybe I want this too," were the quiet words that became Harry's undoing.
There was only so much self control that he could manage and with that gesture Malfoy snapped Harry's will like a twig. The incubus surged to the surface as it tasted victory and he dragged his prey to him, forcing their bodies against each other and their lips together. Malfoy met his passion with equal fervour and the kiss left them both breathless and bloody by the time they pulled back; each having bitten the other at some point during the act.
Malfoy's eyes were bright with the same delirium that Harry felt running through his body and all doubt fled his mind. This human was willing and his: there was nothing else that mattered.
"Take off you clothes," he commanded firmly, knowing that if he had anything to do with undressing Malfoy, there would not be a lot left of the Slytherin's school uniform.
There was no hesitation in Malfoy's movements as his prey moved to obey and garments were shed with graceful efficiency. Harry watched every move and drank in the sight as pale skin was revealed to him. Malfoy did not even pause at his underwear, simply shedding it as well until he stood in front of Harry as naked as the day he was born.
There was nervous excitement coming from his prey as Harry looked Malfoy up and down, but this was not the same frightened human he had taken to him last time. The Slytherin stood with confidence and desire in his stance and it drew Harry like a moth to a flame.
He moved forward, placing a hand on one pale shoulder and for a moment holding himself completely still to admire what was on offer. Malfoy was perfect and, if his skin had not been warm, Harry could almost have believed it was made of creamy stone.
The Slytherin was really much bolder this time and as Harry paused Malfoy took the initiative, lifting hands to start unbuttoning the loose shirt Harry was wearing. As fingers unfastened buttons and pushed aside fabric, Malfoy replaced them with his mouth and Harry found himself surprisingly not in control. Not that he was complaining as he put his head back and closed his eyes, revelling in the sensation of Malfoy's teeth and tongue on his chest.
When the Slytherin worked his way onto his knees, reached Harry's waist and carried on going with the whole removing clothing and then using his mouth idea, Harry had to grab the side of the desk to stop his knees giving way. Sensual, warm hands pushed his trousers and his underwear towards the floor and Malfoy fixed his wonderful mouth on Harry's throbbing erection. They were too far from the wall and Harry did not want to bother with the brain power to remain upright. Entwining his fingers in Malfoy's hair he pulled the Slytherin back from him with a firm, smooth movement.
Grey eyes looked up at him from behind blond lashes with the most wanton expression and Harry could not help smiling.
"Bed, now," he said decisively.
He had not bothered putting on shoes and socks after he woke up, so he stepped out of his garments easily and then pulled Malfoy back to his feet using his current grip. The Slytherin did not resist and came easily, winding his arms around Harry under his shirt after he was released and kissing him leisurely before turning and doing what he was told. Following Malfoy to the bed Harry allowed himself to be kissed again and pushed back on to the bed. Then the Slytherin went back to what he had been doing and Harry arched into the touch, enjoying the opening of his senses as he became more and more aroused.
Not being in sexual control was a new sensation, not that Harry was particularly experienced, but the incubus part of him knew what he was doing; and not taking control seemed somehow wrong, yet deliciously wonderful at the same time. He arched his back, spread his legs to give Malfoy better access and let himself enjoy the skilful ministrations of his willing victim. Whatever else Malfoy might have been, he was definitely not sexually inexperienced with persons of the same gender.
The more the Slytherin caressed him, the more he wanted and Harry lifted his head, needing to see Malfoy as his bed fellow touched him. He felt the changes begin in his body as dexterous fingers played with the inside of his thighs and Malfoy sucked him in deep. The moan that began deep in his chest came out of his mouth in a long breathy sound as he watched small ridges rise out of his skin to form little blunt spines in two long lines.
Malfoy pulled back, breathing hard and watching in fascination at the alterations occurring to Harry. The Slytherin's hot gaze was almost as erotic as his sinful tongue and Harry literally swelled under those eyes. He looked directly into Malfoy's face as he felt his body responding and when he was descended on again he put his head back and called out his encouragement to the room in general. With Malfoy's hand working the quickly slicking shaft and the Slytherin's mouth working the head it was not long before Harry arched completely off the mattress and came with shuddering gasps.
His bed partner did not stop his ministrations until Harry collapsed back on to the bed. Then the Slytherin looked at him with a very smug smile, which did nothing to quench the fires of desire that rather than being satisfied with his incredible orgasm were actually burning brighter by the second.
He pounced as soon as he could gather the muscle control to move and he rolled Malfoy on to the bed. His first instinct was to turn his prey over and take the Slytherin as he had before, but Malfoy held his ground as Harry tried to flip him.
"Let me see you," the Slytherin requested breathlessly, "please."
Harry sat back, positioning himself between Malfoy's legs and looking down at his prize. He knew he would not be resisted if he chose to insist, but he liked looking into those powerfully emotive eyes. Pushing his lover's legs up and apart he ran his hands down the undersides of Malfoy's thighs. He moved his fingers to run them over his companion's sensitive balls and further down between the cheeks of his arse. The long nails on his fingers retracted automatically as he chose to put his fingers to other uses, but what he found was an entrance already slick and ready.
"You came prepared," Harry said with what he suspected was rather a manic smile.
"Of course I did," Malfoy replied, curling his hands into the bed sheets as he spoke, "I'm a Slytherin."
With a slight shift of hips and a little thrust up, his prey made himself very clear, and Harry did not hesitate to take up the invitation. Malfoy grunted when Harry breached him, but the Slytherin did not tense and Harry slid in smoothly. The gasp from those talented lips was one of unbridled pleasure.
"Make me scream again," Malfoy said breathlessly.
It was not a request Harry had any intention of denying and as he pulled out slightly he placed his hands on his lover's hips and pushed the smallest amount of power through his limbs. Malfoy moaned and pulled on the sheets, his legs falling apart further and Harry took the opportunity to push back in. The almost ecstatic panting that came from his lover as he did so, and the rush of pure sexual energy Harry felt let him know that he had struck the right spot.
Now he was feeding off Malfoy's sexual high as well as his own, and nothing could have stopped him pushing his lover to the limit. Thrust after thrust he drew moans and sighs and words of encouragement, while the whole time those grey eyes pinned Harry down. When he reached down to take hold of Malfoy's straining erection his lover almost threw his head back and closed his eyes, but pure obstinacy seemed to have hold of the Slytherin and he did not look away.
Harry stroked his lover in time with his movements and Malfoy's sounds became totally incoherent; the words didn't make sense any more. His prey was almost there, so close to the edge that Harry could taste the energy in the air around them. Thrusting in hard one more time he fisted Malfoy's cock and forced magic through his hand. Now his lover's eyes did close and his head went back as he came, screaming Harry's name. The power release hit Harry like a wave and he climaxed for a second time, collapsing onto Malfoy as the concussion force of sex magic and sexual release meeting took his mind away for a moment.
When he came back down from the high, he found himself nose to nose with his lover and grey eyes were once again looking at him. That gaze was sated and sexually replete and a little smile played at the corners of the Slytherin's mouth.
"Was that loud enough?" Malfoy asked irreverently and all Harry could do was smile.
They were still intimately joined and part of him did not want to give that up, but the incubus was satisfied and Harry felt his body shutting down accordingly. It did not feel as if the sexual predator was far below the surface, but he did not believe that Malfoy was in any state for another round and, reluctantly, he climbed off his lover. He was not really sure what their relationship was, but he liked it none-the-less.
They lay spooned against one another with Harry holding Malfoy in a loose embrace, drifting in the post coital haze. Harry found that the darkness within him had other, less pleasant plans for his lover, but the voices were very dim and easy to ignore. This was as close to appeasing both sides of his nature as he could possibly come, and he did not want it to end. Tightening his grip slightly on his relaxed companion, Harry chose to push other thoughts away and enjoy the warmth of the moment.
The End