PCA...Chapter 5...
Title: Power Corrupts - Absolutely... Chapter 5 Cruel and Unusual
Pairing: Arthur/Draco
Author: mangobiscuit
Rating: NC17
Summary: In war there are no winners. Everybody loses, victors and vanquished, both. Power is intoxicating and even for the sanest of men it can be hard to resist the pull of corruption.
Warnings: Violence, non-con, BDSM, blood-play, torture, insanity.
Chapter 5.
Arthur shook the potion and then poured some into a glass, added the black hair from the head of a certain Gryffindor and drank. After a few seconds he felt the queasy illness that accompanied the change. He felt like all his bones were shrinking, his hair growing and changing colour. He watched in a mirror as his eyes changed colour and then become blurry as his eyesight adjusted to the potion. Conjuring some glasses he placed them on his face, and grinned at the mirror into two emerald green eyes. Further scanning his face, he came across the famous scar on his forehead. A quick flick of his wand altered his clothes to resemble something that Harry would wear.
Turning, he opened the door to the dungeon and entered, walking over to the cell and watched Malfoy behind the bars, a smug smile on his face. The very last person in the world that Malfoy would expect to see was Harry. Arthur knew of their hatred for each other. Arthur wondered how long Malfoy would hold out against Harry, being subjected to the same sort of treatment as he received last night.
He had one hour.
Draco's tears had dried a few hours after Weasley had left and he had sat in the corner the whole night, staring almost blindly, hugging his knees to his chest. The blood had dried, and it stung whenever he moved. He didn't even seem to notice the person standing on the other side of the bars, and gazed instead at the floor.
{Harry} stood watching silently, noting with satisfaction that the young man in the cell no longer had the arrogance of yesterday. Good. "Malfoy," {Harry} spat out suddenly, crossed his arms and smiled a little.
Draco jumped at the voice, he hadn't known anyone was there. He turned quickly in the direction of the voice and frowned when he saw Potter. "What do you want, Potter?!"
{Harry} raised his eyebrows "Didn't Arthur tell you? It's my turn today. For each day the Death Eaters have Ron, my best friend mind you, you get someone different. Today just happens to be my turn."
Draco scowled and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, standing with his back to the wall. "Not your style, is it, Potter? Golden boy wouldn't sink to that level, would he? What would your precious Dumbledore say?" Draco snapped.
{Harry} frowned himself. "You don't know a thing about me Malfoy. Your stinking scum of a father took away my best friend. I'm just looking for a bit of payback. And what better way than to participate in taking you apart emotionally piece by piece. I'd do anything to get some payback for Ron, so don't presume to know what I will and won’t do. As for Dumbledore, he'll never know.”
"You don't have it in you, Potter," Draco replied quietly. He knew Potter wouldn't do anything like this. He was too 'nice' and despite hating that fact the rest of the time, it was a comfort at the moment.
{Harry} raised both eyebrows. "That's what you think." He took out his wand and aimed it Malfoy, saying clearly 'Imperio'. Opening the cell door, he ordered, "Walk over to the table in the centre of the room and lie down on it."
As soon as Draco heard the word leave Potter's mouth he felt sick, but in less than a second the sickness was gone and he was left with a pleasant blankness. It was quite nice actually. Why shouldn't he go and lie down, it seemed like a nice idea. With no expression on his face, he obeyed, walking from the cell with no resistance and over to the table, climbing up onto it and lying down as ordered.
"On your knees Malfoy, elbows on the table, and put your head on your arms" {Harry} ordered, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Draco put up no fight as he did as Potter asked. He got onto his knees, still bent over and crossed his arms, elbows on the table and let his head rest on them. There was no reason not to do it.
{Harry} laughed at seeing Malfoy do as he was told. Probably for the first time in his life. He reached under the table and collected a long coil of rope which he tied one end to the leg of the table. "Don't move Malfoy." Next he wound the rope around one leg, up behind one knee, keeping it quite taut, then wrapped it around the neck of the boy, bringing out and around the other leg behind the knee, effectively ensuring that if Malfoy moved too much he would cut off
his own oxygen. The rest of the rope went around the closest elbow and wrist, binding them together and across to the other one. He took the end and tied that off to the leg of the table as well. He stood back and surveyed his work happily, then checked the ropes to ensure they were not slack anywhere. He smirked, and ended the spell.
Draco could feel instantly that he was restrained again. He could feel the ropes tight around his legs and arms and neck. He closed his eyes and experimentally tested the strength of the ropes. He felt it tighten around his throat when he moved and groaned miserably. "Untie me, Potter!"
"When I'm finished." {Harry} dropped his pants, and looked at Harry's
cock, which was hardening. Not bad Harry, he said to himself. He gave it a couple of tugs to completely harden, thinking that it was odd to be feeling himself having a pull on Harry. But he shrugged it off, and climbed up on the table. "Now, I know that you know that the fewer movements you make, means the more air you get, so I'd advise you to stay still." He looked with distaste at the dried blood from yesterday, but refrained from cleaning him as it was just going to get bloodied again. "Understand Malfoy?"
Draco closed his eyes and frowned. This just could not be happening. First Weasley now Potter... what the fuck next? Longbottom?!!? They just didn't do this... they were the 'good guys'! Good guys did not do this sort of thing. He wasn't stupid. As much as Voldemort told them they were fighting for a noble and just cause, he knew they were the bad guys. He knew and accepted that he, himself, was a bad guy, and that this sort of thing would have been expected of him and his fellow Death Eaters. But not from an Order member... the Minister of Magic... and certainly not from Potter... He gave a small tug at the bindings on his wrists and elbows and found that the ropes there held just as fast.
{Harry} frowned as he didn't hear a response from Malfoy, so he slapped his arse with an open palm. Wouldn't do for Malfoy to get the idea that he could just not answer when spoken to. He growled "I asked you if you understood Malfoy?"
Draco hadn't been expecting the slap and he yelped before frowning and trying to turn his head to face Potter, he felt the rope round his throat tighten slightly when he did this, but not enough to cut off his oxygen yet. "Don't do that again!"
{Harry} sneered. "We're not in school now Malfoy. You can't get away with telling people what to do here. So, answer my question if you don't want more. Then I can get on with enjoying myself here." He slapped him again just to show that he meant business, and admired his hand print on the pale but grubby arse in front of him.
Draco was more prepared for it now, and he managed to hold back the groan that wanted to escape at that slap and bit his lip, growling quietly instead. He narrowed his eyes, turning back to face the front and gritted his teeth. "Yes. I understand!" he spat.
"Good, that's better. You're learning. Now when Mr. Weasley comes back in to ask you some questions about Ron, you might answer them, " {Harry} responded. Roughly, he kneed Malfoy's legs further apart, tightening the ropes, and positioned himself to enter him. With one swift movement he pushed harshly into him, groaning at the tightness. Malfoy really had a tight little arse, he snickered to himself, beginning to pump into him, forcing his way past tightly clenched muscles and not paying terribly much attention to how much the boy
was moving.
Draco gasped and squealed when Potter entered him and instinctively tried to pull forward, away from him. This movement only resulted in the ropes being pulled even tighter and he felt it digging into the skin round his throat as his breathing suddenly became much more laboured. Potter had just done it... he couldn't believe it. Surely this had to be some horrible nightmare... maybe he had been hit with some sort of curse that made him think this was really happening... if it was a dream he wanted it to end NOW!!! Once again he tried to
work his arms free, having as much luck as before. "S-stop..." He wheezed through a heavily constricted wind pipe.
A particularly vicious thrust was the only answer {Harry} gave, grinning at Malfoy's discomfort. It was actually turning him on, all this control, having this boy at his mercy, having him beg him to stop. It was a heady feeling. He looked down with amusement at {Harry's} cock disappearing and reappearing from Malfoy's arse, then frowned seeing that it was covered in blood. He gave a grunt and looked away, and kept slamming harder into him.
He tried hard not to move, he was getting light headed now and dizzy, but every time Potter thrust into him, it pushed him forward and pulled the rope tighter. It didn't seem to get any looser when Potter moved either, it must have been getting caught on stray strands. It only got tighter and after a while, Draco's vision started getting darker and his temples started to throb painfully. "Ple-ase...."
{Harry} could feel he was close to coming now, and was a little disappointed that Harry's body was so impatient and hadn't the staying power of his own in order to prolong his enjoyment of Malfoy's body. Teenagers, he grouched silently. He could see that Malfoy was having trouble breathing, and almost laughed out loud when he heard the pathetic pleading coming from his mouth. "Please what Malfoy? Please keep fucking me Harry? Please don't stop?" With a last few extra hard thrusts {Harry} groaned and came finally, forcing Malfoy further forward.
That was enough to totally block Draco's airways and all air stopped flowing. He felt as if his head was about to explode as the blood rushed to it. He panicked and gave a wild, frantic struggle, thrashing about like an animal, trying to get just a small gasp of air. The room was dark now... and his vision blurred so badly that he couldn't make out objects anymore.
{Harry} continued emptying himself into Malfoy, noticing that the boy was thrashing around, obviously in some distress. Serves you right you little scummy death eater, he muttered to himself. As he finished he pushed Malfoy away from him, and used his wand to clean himself up. He got down from the table and re dressed himself, then paused to look at the boy still tied up on the table. He sneered. "So, what do you think now Malfoy? Still don't think I have it in me to do that?" He leant close to Malfoy's red face, which was gasping for even a small breath and snarled. "I could so easily leave you here like that to slowly and agonisingly die Malfoy, but I want my friend back, so I suggest that you co operate, or next time I might not be so keen to undo these." {Harry} removed the ropes quickly.
As soon as the ropes were gone, Draco took the biggest breath he had ever taken in his life. Feeling his lungs fill up to the point in near bursting. His head was still throbbing and his neck was extremely sore. He lay for a while, still in the same position, just catching his breath, and trying not to cry. He wouldn't cry in front of Potter. He didn't care what had happened, he would NOT cry in front of Potter!
{Harry} grabbed his arm roughly, dragged him off the table and basically frog marched him back to the cell. He threw him in and slammed the door shut, locking it again. "Don't think I won’t be back. It seems like you're not going anywhere in the foreseeable future, so I'm sure I will be back to partake of your… er … charms again and again." {Harry} laughed at that and turned to walk out the door. Before he left however, he turned back to look at Malfoy, and added. "That is of course unless you want to tell me where Ron is, then maybe I can put in a good word for you, and they'll let you live."
"My parents think I'm dead... Do you know how much worse your little Weasel friend is going to get it because of that?" Draco snapped back, shaking now though, voice raspy.
{Harry} shook his head. Inside he was fuming, but he had to keep a calm exterior. "No worse that what you will find yourself on the end of Malfoy." He spat out the name like it was a foul taste in his mouth. "You could end it all now. Tell me where he is and as soon as we have him back, they'll let you go."
"I hope they rip him apart!" was Draco's only reply.
"And you had better hope they don't Malfoy." {Harry} turned again and headed out the door. The polyjuice potion would be wearing off soon, and he had no desire for his ruse to be discovered.
****
As Arthur {Harry} left the room, he felt the beginnings of the change back to himself. Quickly looking around to ensure there were no other wizards present, he stopped where he was while it finished. He removed the glasses that he had worn as Harry, and headed back to his office deep in thought.
That Malfoy must know something, Arthur thought savagely. He was still no closer to finding out where Ron was, and a small part of his mind was beginning to doubt his tactics with Malfoy to try to get the information on Ron's whereabouts. The little voice in his head kept harping that maybe Malfoy didn’t know anything anyway. He pushed that aside furiously. Of course he knows, he’s a stinking death eater for Merlin’s sake. Or only almost, the little voice persisted.
Troubled at that, he reached his office, headed for his desk and retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey from the top drawer, along with a glass, sat down and poured his first drink of the night. He picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet that some underling had conveniently placed on his desk and began to read.
There were stories about the attack, which was not surprising. There were stories about the services for the dead. Also not surprising. What did catch Arthur’s attention was a small article about the Malfoy's retiring to their country house, in order to grieve over the loss of their only son, Draco. You can run, but you can’t hide, Arthur muttered quietly. Tossing the paper aside, he poured himself another drink and turned to the work in his in-tray with a sigh.
A half hour later, having signed everything that needed signing, he leant back into his chair with a sigh and a troubled expression on his face. Not one of the Aurors had managed to find a clue on the whereabouts of Ron. They had used every informant, every contact available. Even Severus didn’t know. Arthur came to the conclusion that getting information out of Draco was his last hope.
The small part of himself that was still rational didn’t like what he was doing, but what was the alternative? Give up, and hope that the Death Eaters just handed Ron back? No, he had to continue, and if truth be told, he rather liked the power he had there, free of the normal conventions of interrogation, free of any sense of decency. He smiled to himself as he poured another drink. He could of course use veritaserum to get the information from Malfoy, but the boy had provoked him too far with thoughts of what the death eaters were doing to Ron, and so... no easy passage for Malfoy then.
He wondered how long it would take the boy to break. Being taken by Harry must have been traumatic. Arthur was very aware of the animosity between the two. He wondered if he could play on that. He would think on how best to take that to his advantage.
A slow smile crossed his face, and quickly turned into a laugh as he came up with a further plan. He rummaged through his bag, which among quite a few old broken down muggle artifacts, contained an apple and a pack of sandwiches that he supposed one of the new house elfs they had at home, had put there. Throwing back the last of his drink, he stood, picked up the food and made his way back down to the dungeon where he was keeping Malfoy. The boy needed food anyway, Arthur thought. He couldn’t have him getting sick now, could he?
As Arthur walked the corridors of the Ministry down to the dungeons, his thoughts turned to Ron again. The knot of anxiety never went away now that the Death Eaters had him, and it twisted viciously now as he centered his attention on Ron. This plan had to work, eventually. It seemed that Malfoy was his only hope now to find Ron, if he was even still alive.
He arrived at the dungeon room, and opened the door quietly, noticing the boy huddled up in the corner, arms around his knees. He must be cold. Too bad… my Ron probably is as well, Arthur thought. Approaching the bars, he could make out that Malfoy was pretty filthy now and there was blood staining his legs. The light in the room was dim, as it came from torches set into the walls. At one stage when this was a muggle torture chamber, the torches were not magical and constantly needed changing, but now they never did, due to magic.
In the dim light Arthur thought he saw the boy shivering, or maybe he was shaking from crying. He could see the tears still staining his cheeks, left there as if he had no energy left to wipe them away. Good, he was considerably less the cold arrogant little prick that had been. He looked stripped bare physically as well as emotionally.
Smugly, he placed the food on the floor just inside the bars. It wasn’t much and Arthur really didn’t care about the boy, other than as a means to get his son back, really. He said snidely "There's food there Malfoy, but don’t think that I care if you eat it or not, although you should, you'll need your strength. Harry told me that you were very… accommodating… of his attentions today. I think he might have some wonderful plans for you, my lad, yes indeed. In fact, he
was so impressed, he’s coming back tomorrow and every day after that. I'm getting much too old for these games, so I'll let young Potter, who has much, much more stamina than me look after you. I'm sure you’d prefer a young virile body that can keep going for such a long time, than an old man like me. Yes?"
Chuckling at Malfoy's expression, he walked to the door and left.
Draco's eyes widened as Weasley told him that Potter would be coming
back tomorrow... and the next day... and the next...
Why did they need to do this? Why did they need to hurt and force him like this? What happened to interrogation? Why had no one figured out he was here?
Draco was so confused... so angry, hurt, scared.... hungry.
He looked over at the food on the floor for a while. His stomach was growling at him, but if he ate the food it would be like admitting defeat. It would show that he depended on Weasley... and no Malfoy EVER depended on a Weasley.
He sneered at it and crawled over, picking up both the apple and the sandwiches and threw them across the room. The apple hit what looked like a wooden club with many metal spikes coming out of it, and sent it, and several similar objects crashing to the floor.
"I don't need your charity, you pervert!" he cried, face pressed up against the cell bars as he clung to the bars either side of his cheeks.
He was sore. Not just where he had been torn, but his whole body. A combination of sleeping on the hard stone floor, being tied in such awkward positions for what seemed like eternity and the cold. He ached, he stung, every part of his body was tender to the touch and the dried blood around his anus scraped at his flesh every time he moved.
He sat in silence after that. Cheeks still streaked with tears, but eyes now dry. If he had known this would be his fate... the way he would die, he never would have been part of this. He wondered if his parents were missing him. Were they grieving his 'death' or had he just become 'one among the ranks'?
Maybe he was being hailed as a Hero. Died in battle for the cause.
He smirked at that thought... then imagined Voldemort giving a fine speech about how faithful he had been and how all other Death Eaters should aspire to be like him. That image served to cheer him up slightly before a sound from behind him made him jump. Turning, he saw a small black thing scurry from one shadow corner of his cell across the back wall and into another.
He moaned piteously and curled up by the bars, knees to his chest again. He didn't like rats. It had obviously been attracted by the smell of blood.
He watched the corner for a while then finally the rat seemed to get bored of hiding and ran out of the cell and to some desolate section of the room, where there were no torches to give light.
Sniffing and finally lifting his hand to his face to wipe away the tears, he crawled back to the wall and lay with his back against it and rested his head in his elbow. He stomach growled again and he looked across the room at the flood he'd thrown. Weasley was right... he would have to eat some time.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Potter would be back in the morning and he'd probably have to endure more painful and uncomfortable bondage and more forced sodomy. He hated Potter! More than he'd ever hated anyone! More than Weasley, more than Granger, more than Dumbledore!
If he ever got out of this, he swore to himself, Potter would pay!!
Pairing: Arthur/Draco
Author: mangobiscuit
Rating: NC17
Summary: In war there are no winners. Everybody loses, victors and vanquished, both. Power is intoxicating and even for the sanest of men it can be hard to resist the pull of corruption.
Warnings: Violence, non-con, BDSM, blood-play, torture, insanity.
Chapter 5.
Arthur shook the potion and then poured some into a glass, added the black hair from the head of a certain Gryffindor and drank. After a few seconds he felt the queasy illness that accompanied the change. He felt like all his bones were shrinking, his hair growing and changing colour. He watched in a mirror as his eyes changed colour and then become blurry as his eyesight adjusted to the potion. Conjuring some glasses he placed them on his face, and grinned at the mirror into two emerald green eyes. Further scanning his face, he came across the famous scar on his forehead. A quick flick of his wand altered his clothes to resemble something that Harry would wear.
Turning, he opened the door to the dungeon and entered, walking over to the cell and watched Malfoy behind the bars, a smug smile on his face. The very last person in the world that Malfoy would expect to see was Harry. Arthur knew of their hatred for each other. Arthur wondered how long Malfoy would hold out against Harry, being subjected to the same sort of treatment as he received last night.
He had one hour.
Draco's tears had dried a few hours after Weasley had left and he had sat in the corner the whole night, staring almost blindly, hugging his knees to his chest. The blood had dried, and it stung whenever he moved. He didn't even seem to notice the person standing on the other side of the bars, and gazed instead at the floor.
{Harry} stood watching silently, noting with satisfaction that the young man in the cell no longer had the arrogance of yesterday. Good. "Malfoy," {Harry} spat out suddenly, crossed his arms and smiled a little.
Draco jumped at the voice, he hadn't known anyone was there. He turned quickly in the direction of the voice and frowned when he saw Potter. "What do you want, Potter?!"
{Harry} raised his eyebrows "Didn't Arthur tell you? It's my turn today. For each day the Death Eaters have Ron, my best friend mind you, you get someone different. Today just happens to be my turn."
Draco scowled and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, standing with his back to the wall. "Not your style, is it, Potter? Golden boy wouldn't sink to that level, would he? What would your precious Dumbledore say?" Draco snapped.
{Harry} frowned himself. "You don't know a thing about me Malfoy. Your stinking scum of a father took away my best friend. I'm just looking for a bit of payback. And what better way than to participate in taking you apart emotionally piece by piece. I'd do anything to get some payback for Ron, so don't presume to know what I will and won’t do. As for Dumbledore, he'll never know.”
"You don't have it in you, Potter," Draco replied quietly. He knew Potter wouldn't do anything like this. He was too 'nice' and despite hating that fact the rest of the time, it was a comfort at the moment.
{Harry} raised both eyebrows. "That's what you think." He took out his wand and aimed it Malfoy, saying clearly 'Imperio'. Opening the cell door, he ordered, "Walk over to the table in the centre of the room and lie down on it."
As soon as Draco heard the word leave Potter's mouth he felt sick, but in less than a second the sickness was gone and he was left with a pleasant blankness. It was quite nice actually. Why shouldn't he go and lie down, it seemed like a nice idea. With no expression on his face, he obeyed, walking from the cell with no resistance and over to the table, climbing up onto it and lying down as ordered.
"On your knees Malfoy, elbows on the table, and put your head on your arms" {Harry} ordered, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
Draco put up no fight as he did as Potter asked. He got onto his knees, still bent over and crossed his arms, elbows on the table and let his head rest on them. There was no reason not to do it.
{Harry} laughed at seeing Malfoy do as he was told. Probably for the first time in his life. He reached under the table and collected a long coil of rope which he tied one end to the leg of the table. "Don't move Malfoy." Next he wound the rope around one leg, up behind one knee, keeping it quite taut, then wrapped it around the neck of the boy, bringing out and around the other leg behind the knee, effectively ensuring that if Malfoy moved too much he would cut off
his own oxygen. The rest of the rope went around the closest elbow and wrist, binding them together and across to the other one. He took the end and tied that off to the leg of the table as well. He stood back and surveyed his work happily, then checked the ropes to ensure they were not slack anywhere. He smirked, and ended the spell.
Draco could feel instantly that he was restrained again. He could feel the ropes tight around his legs and arms and neck. He closed his eyes and experimentally tested the strength of the ropes. He felt it tighten around his throat when he moved and groaned miserably. "Untie me, Potter!"
"When I'm finished." {Harry} dropped his pants, and looked at Harry's
cock, which was hardening. Not bad Harry, he said to himself. He gave it a couple of tugs to completely harden, thinking that it was odd to be feeling himself having a pull on Harry. But he shrugged it off, and climbed up on the table. "Now, I know that you know that the fewer movements you make, means the more air you get, so I'd advise you to stay still." He looked with distaste at the dried blood from yesterday, but refrained from cleaning him as it was just going to get bloodied again. "Understand Malfoy?"
Draco closed his eyes and frowned. This just could not be happening. First Weasley now Potter... what the fuck next? Longbottom?!!? They just didn't do this... they were the 'good guys'! Good guys did not do this sort of thing. He wasn't stupid. As much as Voldemort told them they were fighting for a noble and just cause, he knew they were the bad guys. He knew and accepted that he, himself, was a bad guy, and that this sort of thing would have been expected of him and his fellow Death Eaters. But not from an Order member... the Minister of Magic... and certainly not from Potter... He gave a small tug at the bindings on his wrists and elbows and found that the ropes there held just as fast.
{Harry} frowned as he didn't hear a response from Malfoy, so he slapped his arse with an open palm. Wouldn't do for Malfoy to get the idea that he could just not answer when spoken to. He growled "I asked you if you understood Malfoy?"
Draco hadn't been expecting the slap and he yelped before frowning and trying to turn his head to face Potter, he felt the rope round his throat tighten slightly when he did this, but not enough to cut off his oxygen yet. "Don't do that again!"
{Harry} sneered. "We're not in school now Malfoy. You can't get away with telling people what to do here. So, answer my question if you don't want more. Then I can get on with enjoying myself here." He slapped him again just to show that he meant business, and admired his hand print on the pale but grubby arse in front of him.
Draco was more prepared for it now, and he managed to hold back the groan that wanted to escape at that slap and bit his lip, growling quietly instead. He narrowed his eyes, turning back to face the front and gritted his teeth. "Yes. I understand!" he spat.
"Good, that's better. You're learning. Now when Mr. Weasley comes back in to ask you some questions about Ron, you might answer them, " {Harry} responded. Roughly, he kneed Malfoy's legs further apart, tightening the ropes, and positioned himself to enter him. With one swift movement he pushed harshly into him, groaning at the tightness. Malfoy really had a tight little arse, he snickered to himself, beginning to pump into him, forcing his way past tightly clenched muscles and not paying terribly much attention to how much the boy
was moving.
Draco gasped and squealed when Potter entered him and instinctively tried to pull forward, away from him. This movement only resulted in the ropes being pulled even tighter and he felt it digging into the skin round his throat as his breathing suddenly became much more laboured. Potter had just done it... he couldn't believe it. Surely this had to be some horrible nightmare... maybe he had been hit with some sort of curse that made him think this was really happening... if it was a dream he wanted it to end NOW!!! Once again he tried to
work his arms free, having as much luck as before. "S-stop..." He wheezed through a heavily constricted wind pipe.
A particularly vicious thrust was the only answer {Harry} gave, grinning at Malfoy's discomfort. It was actually turning him on, all this control, having this boy at his mercy, having him beg him to stop. It was a heady feeling. He looked down with amusement at {Harry's} cock disappearing and reappearing from Malfoy's arse, then frowned seeing that it was covered in blood. He gave a grunt and looked away, and kept slamming harder into him.
He tried hard not to move, he was getting light headed now and dizzy, but every time Potter thrust into him, it pushed him forward and pulled the rope tighter. It didn't seem to get any looser when Potter moved either, it must have been getting caught on stray strands. It only got tighter and after a while, Draco's vision started getting darker and his temples started to throb painfully. "Ple-ase...."
{Harry} could feel he was close to coming now, and was a little disappointed that Harry's body was so impatient and hadn't the staying power of his own in order to prolong his enjoyment of Malfoy's body. Teenagers, he grouched silently. He could see that Malfoy was having trouble breathing, and almost laughed out loud when he heard the pathetic pleading coming from his mouth. "Please what Malfoy? Please keep fucking me Harry? Please don't stop?" With a last few extra hard thrusts {Harry} groaned and came finally, forcing Malfoy further forward.
That was enough to totally block Draco's airways and all air stopped flowing. He felt as if his head was about to explode as the blood rushed to it. He panicked and gave a wild, frantic struggle, thrashing about like an animal, trying to get just a small gasp of air. The room was dark now... and his vision blurred so badly that he couldn't make out objects anymore.
{Harry} continued emptying himself into Malfoy, noticing that the boy was thrashing around, obviously in some distress. Serves you right you little scummy death eater, he muttered to himself. As he finished he pushed Malfoy away from him, and used his wand to clean himself up. He got down from the table and re dressed himself, then paused to look at the boy still tied up on the table. He sneered. "So, what do you think now Malfoy? Still don't think I have it in me to do that?" He leant close to Malfoy's red face, which was gasping for even a small breath and snarled. "I could so easily leave you here like that to slowly and agonisingly die Malfoy, but I want my friend back, so I suggest that you co operate, or next time I might not be so keen to undo these." {Harry} removed the ropes quickly.
As soon as the ropes were gone, Draco took the biggest breath he had ever taken in his life. Feeling his lungs fill up to the point in near bursting. His head was still throbbing and his neck was extremely sore. He lay for a while, still in the same position, just catching his breath, and trying not to cry. He wouldn't cry in front of Potter. He didn't care what had happened, he would NOT cry in front of Potter!
{Harry} grabbed his arm roughly, dragged him off the table and basically frog marched him back to the cell. He threw him in and slammed the door shut, locking it again. "Don't think I won’t be back. It seems like you're not going anywhere in the foreseeable future, so I'm sure I will be back to partake of your… er … charms again and again." {Harry} laughed at that and turned to walk out the door. Before he left however, he turned back to look at Malfoy, and added. "That is of course unless you want to tell me where Ron is, then maybe I can put in a good word for you, and they'll let you live."
"My parents think I'm dead... Do you know how much worse your little Weasel friend is going to get it because of that?" Draco snapped back, shaking now though, voice raspy.
{Harry} shook his head. Inside he was fuming, but he had to keep a calm exterior. "No worse that what you will find yourself on the end of Malfoy." He spat out the name like it was a foul taste in his mouth. "You could end it all now. Tell me where he is and as soon as we have him back, they'll let you go."
"I hope they rip him apart!" was Draco's only reply.
"And you had better hope they don't Malfoy." {Harry} turned again and headed out the door. The polyjuice potion would be wearing off soon, and he had no desire for his ruse to be discovered.
****
As Arthur {Harry} left the room, he felt the beginnings of the change back to himself. Quickly looking around to ensure there were no other wizards present, he stopped where he was while it finished. He removed the glasses that he had worn as Harry, and headed back to his office deep in thought.
That Malfoy must know something, Arthur thought savagely. He was still no closer to finding out where Ron was, and a small part of his mind was beginning to doubt his tactics with Malfoy to try to get the information on Ron's whereabouts. The little voice in his head kept harping that maybe Malfoy didn’t know anything anyway. He pushed that aside furiously. Of course he knows, he’s a stinking death eater for Merlin’s sake. Or only almost, the little voice persisted.
Troubled at that, he reached his office, headed for his desk and retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey from the top drawer, along with a glass, sat down and poured his first drink of the night. He picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet that some underling had conveniently placed on his desk and began to read.
There were stories about the attack, which was not surprising. There were stories about the services for the dead. Also not surprising. What did catch Arthur’s attention was a small article about the Malfoy's retiring to their country house, in order to grieve over the loss of their only son, Draco. You can run, but you can’t hide, Arthur muttered quietly. Tossing the paper aside, he poured himself another drink and turned to the work in his in-tray with a sigh.
A half hour later, having signed everything that needed signing, he leant back into his chair with a sigh and a troubled expression on his face. Not one of the Aurors had managed to find a clue on the whereabouts of Ron. They had used every informant, every contact available. Even Severus didn’t know. Arthur came to the conclusion that getting information out of Draco was his last hope.
The small part of himself that was still rational didn’t like what he was doing, but what was the alternative? Give up, and hope that the Death Eaters just handed Ron back? No, he had to continue, and if truth be told, he rather liked the power he had there, free of the normal conventions of interrogation, free of any sense of decency. He smiled to himself as he poured another drink. He could of course use veritaserum to get the information from Malfoy, but the boy had provoked him too far with thoughts of what the death eaters were doing to Ron, and so... no easy passage for Malfoy then.
He wondered how long it would take the boy to break. Being taken by Harry must have been traumatic. Arthur was very aware of the animosity between the two. He wondered if he could play on that. He would think on how best to take that to his advantage.
A slow smile crossed his face, and quickly turned into a laugh as he came up with a further plan. He rummaged through his bag, which among quite a few old broken down muggle artifacts, contained an apple and a pack of sandwiches that he supposed one of the new house elfs they had at home, had put there. Throwing back the last of his drink, he stood, picked up the food and made his way back down to the dungeon where he was keeping Malfoy. The boy needed food anyway, Arthur thought. He couldn’t have him getting sick now, could he?
As Arthur walked the corridors of the Ministry down to the dungeons, his thoughts turned to Ron again. The knot of anxiety never went away now that the Death Eaters had him, and it twisted viciously now as he centered his attention on Ron. This plan had to work, eventually. It seemed that Malfoy was his only hope now to find Ron, if he was even still alive.
He arrived at the dungeon room, and opened the door quietly, noticing the boy huddled up in the corner, arms around his knees. He must be cold. Too bad… my Ron probably is as well, Arthur thought. Approaching the bars, he could make out that Malfoy was pretty filthy now and there was blood staining his legs. The light in the room was dim, as it came from torches set into the walls. At one stage when this was a muggle torture chamber, the torches were not magical and constantly needed changing, but now they never did, due to magic.
In the dim light Arthur thought he saw the boy shivering, or maybe he was shaking from crying. He could see the tears still staining his cheeks, left there as if he had no energy left to wipe them away. Good, he was considerably less the cold arrogant little prick that had been. He looked stripped bare physically as well as emotionally.
Smugly, he placed the food on the floor just inside the bars. It wasn’t much and Arthur really didn’t care about the boy, other than as a means to get his son back, really. He said snidely "There's food there Malfoy, but don’t think that I care if you eat it or not, although you should, you'll need your strength. Harry told me that you were very… accommodating… of his attentions today. I think he might have some wonderful plans for you, my lad, yes indeed. In fact, he
was so impressed, he’s coming back tomorrow and every day after that. I'm getting much too old for these games, so I'll let young Potter, who has much, much more stamina than me look after you. I'm sure you’d prefer a young virile body that can keep going for such a long time, than an old man like me. Yes?"
Chuckling at Malfoy's expression, he walked to the door and left.
Draco's eyes widened as Weasley told him that Potter would be coming
back tomorrow... and the next day... and the next...
Why did they need to do this? Why did they need to hurt and force him like this? What happened to interrogation? Why had no one figured out he was here?
Draco was so confused... so angry, hurt, scared.... hungry.
He looked over at the food on the floor for a while. His stomach was growling at him, but if he ate the food it would be like admitting defeat. It would show that he depended on Weasley... and no Malfoy EVER depended on a Weasley.
He sneered at it and crawled over, picking up both the apple and the sandwiches and threw them across the room. The apple hit what looked like a wooden club with many metal spikes coming out of it, and sent it, and several similar objects crashing to the floor.
"I don't need your charity, you pervert!" he cried, face pressed up against the cell bars as he clung to the bars either side of his cheeks.
He was sore. Not just where he had been torn, but his whole body. A combination of sleeping on the hard stone floor, being tied in such awkward positions for what seemed like eternity and the cold. He ached, he stung, every part of his body was tender to the touch and the dried blood around his anus scraped at his flesh every time he moved.
He sat in silence after that. Cheeks still streaked with tears, but eyes now dry. If he had known this would be his fate... the way he would die, he never would have been part of this. He wondered if his parents were missing him. Were they grieving his 'death' or had he just become 'one among the ranks'?
Maybe he was being hailed as a Hero. Died in battle for the cause.
He smirked at that thought... then imagined Voldemort giving a fine speech about how faithful he had been and how all other Death Eaters should aspire to be like him. That image served to cheer him up slightly before a sound from behind him made him jump. Turning, he saw a small black thing scurry from one shadow corner of his cell across the back wall and into another.
He moaned piteously and curled up by the bars, knees to his chest again. He didn't like rats. It had obviously been attracted by the smell of blood.
He watched the corner for a while then finally the rat seemed to get bored of hiding and ran out of the cell and to some desolate section of the room, where there were no torches to give light.
Sniffing and finally lifting his hand to his face to wipe away the tears, he crawled back to the wall and lay with his back against it and rested his head in his elbow. He stomach growled again and he looked across the room at the flood he'd thrown. Weasley was right... he would have to eat some time.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Potter would be back in the morning and he'd probably have to endure more painful and uncomfortable bondage and more forced sodomy. He hated Potter! More than he'd ever hated anyone! More than Weasley, more than Granger, more than Dumbledore!
If he ever got out of this, he swore to himself, Potter would pay!!