jellybean_slash: Lead Us Not Into Temptation (HP/LM, HP/DM, R)
Author: jellybean_slash
Title: Lead Us Not Into Temptation
Rating: R
Prompt: #12, Faith
Date: 07/01/06
Pairings: Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Warnings: D/s, mentions of bondage, dubious consent (drugging), definite blasphemy.
Word Count: 1,090
Summary: Sin visits in a far more tempting form than expected, and Harry is forced to make a choice between his God and the Devil. Second in the Lord's Prayer series.
Earlier pieces in the Lord's Prayer series:
Thy Kingdom Come
Where there is a Heaven -- land of paradise and eternal forgiveness, where angels sing and the souls of the faithful are blessed by the vision of God Himself -- there must be a Hell to steady the balance between right and wrong. If a place so pure and innocent is to exist, there must be a place that is dark and sinful in equal measure. And where there is Hell, there must be one there to rule it.
Harry's evil, his own personal Lucifer, was nothing like the red-skinned, horned and tailed demon his aunt Petunia had described to him during his childhood. The creature his aunt had created in his mind was 10 feet tall, if not more, with jagged, razor sharp teeth, forever stained by the blood of the wicked. The Devil was always a horrifying beast that carried a fiery pitchfork, laughing as the damned were tortured and burned by the smouldering fires of Hell, suffering in their own misery for all eternity. The reality of the situation, however, was quite a different story.
The Devil was far too short and weighed far too little to ever be truly terrifying. He was hardly the towering, intimidating monster that Harry had always pictured him to be. Nor was his skin any shade of red. In fact, it was white as freshly poured cream, and seemed to cast a startling glow about him. It was the skin of an angel, ethereal and pale, but Harry knew that he would find only broken wings and a missing halo should he chance a look. His teeth were straight and clean, and there was no pitchfork in sight, but he was most assuredly the Devil. Though his name was not Lucifer. No, his name was Draco.
Harry knew that Draco had once been faithful to God, to Lucius, but those days seemed very much over. During his brief moments of lucidity (or insanity -- he couldn't quite tell which they were any more) he thought that he knew why, but he could never quite figure it out before it was chased out of his mind by Lucius' voice, or his fingers in his hair. He thought it might have something to do with the day his first life ended, though he couldn't be sure. It was rare that he thought of the Devil at all, however. Lucius certainly didn't speak of him, and Harry knew better than to ask.
When Harry first met the Devil, he knew him only as Draco. He had crept quietly into his cell not more than a month after Harry found himself in it to begin with, whispering questions and growing increasingly worried by Harry's inability to form a response.
The man, if a demon could ever be called a man, told him the sweetest lies with his forked tongue. He told them that they had once been lovers, and effortlessly spun tales of a life outside the manor, swearing that he would take him there one day soon. The Devil spoke of friends Harry didn't know, and places he couldn't recall ever having seen, but Harry accepted it all readily and in earnest.
He was still pleading for more stories, more of the sugared lies, when Draco left him with no more than a sad look and a promise to return, sneaking out the way he had come. Harry clung to those words like a drowning man to a lifeline. After all, it seemed far more promising than the alternative.
He knew that he should tell Lucius of his visitor, of the things he said and promised, but he couldn't bring himself to. When he was kneeling at the feet of his Master, he knew that all Draco said was a lie. Everything from Harry's first life, his life before Lucius, was gone. It was dead and buried, and he could never have it back. Still, most nights he dreamt of freedom and happiness, all the things the Devil told him that he had once had, and could have again. It couldn't hurt to dream, hold on to a wish inside, could it?
The day that Draco mentioned escape, even outlined a plan to him, Harry was sorely tempted. He felt like Eve in the Garden of Eden; faced with the serpent and the apple, nearly able to taste the freedom on his tongue like the juice of the fruit, forced to make a choice.
His sensibility and desires were battling in his head when Draco leaned over and kissed him. His lips were smooth and warm, and his tongue hot as it slid between them. Draco kissed him with such blinding passion that Harry couldn't stop himself from kissing back, his face cradled so gently in the Devil's cool hands.
Draco told him with the utmost surety that he loved him, and Harry knew then what he had to do.
There were tears in Draco's eyes as he looked at Harry from his place on the ground, a question hidden in their depths. Harry didn't have an answer that he could give, and he didn't have more than a moment to think before Lucius cast the curse that lit the room up with a flash of green. The question was stolen from Draco's eyes with his soul, as good vanquished evil, and the tears fell uselessly to the ground.
Harry accepted his punishment, as even those who confess their sins must perform a penance, and he had certainly sinned, even if he hadn't given himself entirely to evil. He counted the lashes of the whip like prayer beads, all the while thinking of Draco's shining eyes and beautiful smile.
He couldn't help the nagging feeling that he had made a mistake. Maybe it wasn't Draco who had lied, made promises he couldn't keep. Perhaps Harry had it all backwards; perhaps Lucius was the Devil and Harry had simply fallen under his spell.
It wasn't until later than night, when Lucius was inside of him, whispering how pleased he was with Harry's obedience as he pulled Harry with him towards orgasm, that Harry understood. He felt horror begin to fill him at the thought of what he had done, his heart clenching painfully as his stomach twisted into knots. Before he could fully realise the breadth of his own anguish, absolution was poured down his throat, burning like fire all the way down as it caused him to forget once more.
Harry thanked his Master for the gift and lost his mind again.
And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
Later pieces in the Lord's Prayer series:
Hallowed Be Thy Name
Title: Lead Us Not Into Temptation
Rating: R
Prompt: #12, Faith
Date: 07/01/06
Pairings: Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Warnings: D/s, mentions of bondage, dubious consent (drugging), definite blasphemy.
Word Count: 1,090
Summary: Sin visits in a far more tempting form than expected, and Harry is forced to make a choice between his God and the Devil. Second in the Lord's Prayer series.
Earlier pieces in the Lord's Prayer series:
Thy Kingdom Come
Where there is a Heaven -- land of paradise and eternal forgiveness, where angels sing and the souls of the faithful are blessed by the vision of God Himself -- there must be a Hell to steady the balance between right and wrong. If a place so pure and innocent is to exist, there must be a place that is dark and sinful in equal measure. And where there is Hell, there must be one there to rule it.
Harry's evil, his own personal Lucifer, was nothing like the red-skinned, horned and tailed demon his aunt Petunia had described to him during his childhood. The creature his aunt had created in his mind was 10 feet tall, if not more, with jagged, razor sharp teeth, forever stained by the blood of the wicked. The Devil was always a horrifying beast that carried a fiery pitchfork, laughing as the damned were tortured and burned by the smouldering fires of Hell, suffering in their own misery for all eternity. The reality of the situation, however, was quite a different story.
The Devil was far too short and weighed far too little to ever be truly terrifying. He was hardly the towering, intimidating monster that Harry had always pictured him to be. Nor was his skin any shade of red. In fact, it was white as freshly poured cream, and seemed to cast a startling glow about him. It was the skin of an angel, ethereal and pale, but Harry knew that he would find only broken wings and a missing halo should he chance a look. His teeth were straight and clean, and there was no pitchfork in sight, but he was most assuredly the Devil. Though his name was not Lucifer. No, his name was Draco.
Harry knew that Draco had once been faithful to God, to Lucius, but those days seemed very much over. During his brief moments of lucidity (or insanity -- he couldn't quite tell which they were any more) he thought that he knew why, but he could never quite figure it out before it was chased out of his mind by Lucius' voice, or his fingers in his hair. He thought it might have something to do with the day his first life ended, though he couldn't be sure. It was rare that he thought of the Devil at all, however. Lucius certainly didn't speak of him, and Harry knew better than to ask.
When Harry first met the Devil, he knew him only as Draco. He had crept quietly into his cell not more than a month after Harry found himself in it to begin with, whispering questions and growing increasingly worried by Harry's inability to form a response.
The man, if a demon could ever be called a man, told him the sweetest lies with his forked tongue. He told them that they had once been lovers, and effortlessly spun tales of a life outside the manor, swearing that he would take him there one day soon. The Devil spoke of friends Harry didn't know, and places he couldn't recall ever having seen, but Harry accepted it all readily and in earnest.
He was still pleading for more stories, more of the sugared lies, when Draco left him with no more than a sad look and a promise to return, sneaking out the way he had come. Harry clung to those words like a drowning man to a lifeline. After all, it seemed far more promising than the alternative.
He knew that he should tell Lucius of his visitor, of the things he said and promised, but he couldn't bring himself to. When he was kneeling at the feet of his Master, he knew that all Draco said was a lie. Everything from Harry's first life, his life before Lucius, was gone. It was dead and buried, and he could never have it back. Still, most nights he dreamt of freedom and happiness, all the things the Devil told him that he had once had, and could have again. It couldn't hurt to dream, hold on to a wish inside, could it?
The day that Draco mentioned escape, even outlined a plan to him, Harry was sorely tempted. He felt like Eve in the Garden of Eden; faced with the serpent and the apple, nearly able to taste the freedom on his tongue like the juice of the fruit, forced to make a choice.
His sensibility and desires were battling in his head when Draco leaned over and kissed him. His lips were smooth and warm, and his tongue hot as it slid between them. Draco kissed him with such blinding passion that Harry couldn't stop himself from kissing back, his face cradled so gently in the Devil's cool hands.
Draco told him with the utmost surety that he loved him, and Harry knew then what he had to do.
There were tears in Draco's eyes as he looked at Harry from his place on the ground, a question hidden in their depths. Harry didn't have an answer that he could give, and he didn't have more than a moment to think before Lucius cast the curse that lit the room up with a flash of green. The question was stolen from Draco's eyes with his soul, as good vanquished evil, and the tears fell uselessly to the ground.
Harry accepted his punishment, as even those who confess their sins must perform a penance, and he had certainly sinned, even if he hadn't given himself entirely to evil. He counted the lashes of the whip like prayer beads, all the while thinking of Draco's shining eyes and beautiful smile.
He couldn't help the nagging feeling that he had made a mistake. Maybe it wasn't Draco who had lied, made promises he couldn't keep. Perhaps Harry had it all backwards; perhaps Lucius was the Devil and Harry had simply fallen under his spell.
It wasn't until later than night, when Lucius was inside of him, whispering how pleased he was with Harry's obedience as he pulled Harry with him towards orgasm, that Harry understood. He felt horror begin to fill him at the thought of what he had done, his heart clenching painfully as his stomach twisted into knots. Before he could fully realise the breadth of his own anguish, absolution was poured down his throat, burning like fire all the way down as it caused him to forget once more.
Harry thanked his Master for the gift and lost his mind again.
And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
Later pieces in the Lord's Prayer series:
Hallowed Be Thy Name