emmagrant01 | FIC: Still the Sun (H/D)

Title: Still the Sun
Author: Emma Grant
Fandom/Pairing: HP, Harry/Draco
Rating: Mature
Summary: Harry is captured by Snape, and Draco decides to play with him. Set after HBP. Dark, borderline non-con, mind games.
Length: ~1600 words
Note: The best way to break through writer's block, they say, is to sit down and write something. So here's something, a scene that's been flitting about in my head for a while.

:: :: :: :: ::

Harry leaned forward, struggling against the metal bindings, but they only cut into his skin more. He slumped back with a frustrated groan, feeling panic rise in his chest again.

He'd been chained here for what must have been an entire day, and he was no closer to escaping than he'd been the moment Snape had left him here in this musty cellar. It smelled of mold and dank water, and he doubted this room had seen the sun in… ever. He had no idea if it was day or night. The only light source was a flickering candle on a table across the room, charmed not to melt. It provided just enough light to see the engorged shadows of bugs crawling across the damp concrete floor.

Not that the bugs bothered Harry. Very little bothered him these days, except the fact that he'd been stupid enough to take the bait and fall right into this trap Malfoy and Snape had left for him. He'd thought they would kill him, but Snape had brought him here. Harry supposed he was being kept until Voldemort could come.

He gritted his teeth and struggled against the bindings again, trying to ignore the searing pain in his hands.

"I wonder, will they come off if you pull hard enough?" Malfoy asked as he emerged from the shadows, startling Harry. "Or will you just break the bones in your hand trying? Either way, it doesn't sound very pleasant."

Malfoy had come in and out at random times, generally trying to provoke Harry into talking. So far, Harry hadn't acknowledged his presence, which was the only thing he could do to get under Malfoy's skin at the moment. It seemed to be working. Malfoy moved toward him, eyes gleaming in his pale face, his features twisted into a grimace.

"As much as I enjoy watching you struggle, I feel I should tell you it's no use. Those bindings were forged by goblins a century ago, and they fit themselves to their prisoner." Malfoy knelt before Harry and his hair fell into his face, shadowing his features in a way that made him look sinister. "Even if you could manage to crush the bones, the bindings would only adjust. The pain would be…" He paused, and a sneer spread over his face. "Well, I suppose you and pain have a very special relationship, don't you?"

Harry's eyes flicked up to Malfoy's at that. He glared for a moment, trying to make sense of the comment before forcing himself to look away again. Malfoy was trying to provoke him. That was all.

A touch to his cheek made Harry start. He jerked his head away from Malfoy's hand.

Malfoy's sneer twisted into something dark. "Did I hit a nerve, then? I think I did." He grasped Harry's chin and forced Harry to look up at him. "Don't worry, Potter. I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you so much you'll come from it, and beg me to do it again." He released Harry and stood.

Harry's mind raced. He'd fully expected to be tortured, before and after being handed over to Voldemort, but Malfoy was implying something Harry hadn't considered. He looked up at Malfoy, who was hovering over him now, staring down at him with a strange expression. It was one Harry couldn't read. He'd never seen it before.

Malfoy took a step backwards and the expression melted into a sort of lazy grin. And then he unfastened the fly of his trousers. Harry's mouth grew dry as realization dawned, as Malfoy stepped closer again, his fingers wrapped around his limp prick, tugging at it slowly. Harry glared. It was all he could think to do.

"We'll start slow," Malfoy said. He grasped the back of Harry's head and pulled his face towards his groin, close enough that Harry could smell sweat and musk and oh god he'd never expected this.

How had he not prepared himself for this, when he'd prepared for everything else? He could handle werewolves, trolls, giants, hags, more hexes than any wizard ought to know about, vile potions -- but this?

He clenched his jaw. Not without a fight.

"That's just was I was counting on," Malfoy said, his voice reduced to a harsh whisper. He pressed the tip of his now-hard cock against Harry's lips, smearing them with pre-come. "Open up. I know you want to."

Harry glared in response. Malfoy had his attention now, and Harry despised him for it. He wished he'd got a witty retort in earlier, when opening his mouth wouldn't have such vile consequences.

"You're only making it better, you know," Malfoy said, leering down at him. "I would have been disappointed if you hadn't struggled a little. It would have shaken my whole world view to see the great Harry Potter sucking my dick like he'd been dreaming about it for years." His hand in Harry's hair clenched tighter and he made a sound not unlike a moan. "Do struggle, Potter. Better yet, refuse to open your mouth at all, because then I'll have to stick this in another orifice entirely -- one you won't be able to keep closed."

Harry felt heat rising through him, an anger so strong it took him by surprise. He had no idea how to get out of this, but he'd be damned if he'd let Malfoy bugger him. Of course, doing this now didn't guarantee that wouldn't happen later, but later didn’t matter so much at the moment. He heard his own heart pounding in his head, drowning out the sound of everything else.

He had to give in to this. It was better than the alternative. It didn't mean anything. It was only his body, after all. Malfoy would think he'd beaten Harry, but he would be wrong. He probably thought Harry had never done this before. He was wrong about that as well.

Malfoy stroked himself and waited, as if he could hear the battle going on in Harry's head.

Harry smirked at him then, almost laughed. Malfoy was a child. He thought he was tough and powerful, but he wasn't. He was stuck here in Snape's cellar too, unable to go out into the world by the light of day, hiding from Voldemort. Harry had heard the rumors. Voldemort wanted Malfoy dead, and he had as little future as Harry did.

Harry could make him come undone, right here and now, could give him something that Malfoy would never forget. He could make Malfoy scream, and then watch him long for what he could never have again. Malfoy thought he was the one hurting and violating here, but he was wrong about that too.

Harry let his lips twist into a wicked smile, and opened his mouth.

He waited, but Malfoy didn't shove his prick in. He just stared at Harry, and went remarkably paler.

"Well?" Harry said after several awkward seconds had passed. He let his gaze drift down to Malfoy's prick, which had softened a bit. Harry sneered. "Oh. I hear that sort of thing happens a lot. Stress, I imagine. Performance anxiety. Or maybe--"

The blow to the side of his head made him see stars for a moment, but he shook it off and looked back up. Malfoy was seething, but there was a bit of panic on his face as well.

Harry tasted blood and spat on the floor, then shook his head. "You really are pathetic, Malfoy. What kind of Death Eater can't get it up to--"

He wasn't quite sure what happened next. He heard a roar and then he was being pummeled, and he couldn't twist away from the blows. And then it stopped, and there was shouting.

"--insane, Draco? I believe I made it clear that--"

Snape's voice grew garbled and hazy, and then it was dark.

There was a hand on Harry's cheek. It was quiet. He opened his eyes and willed them to focus.

Snape was staring at him with a look of barely concealed disgust on his face. Harry closed his eyes again. He fell forward a bit and caught himself before hitting the floor.

His hands. When had the bindings been removed?

"The sun will rise in an hour," Snape said, his voice low and tight. He tugged Harry to his feet and pressed something into his hand. "I suggest you apparate to a safe place before that happens. You'll have to be 50 yards from the house to be clear of the wards."

Harry could barely stand, and his head was throbbing. His lip was split and his face felt a bit numb, so speaking was out of the question. Which was just as well because he doubted he could have said anything more than What the fuck? He was probably dreaming. None of this made sense.

He tightened his fingers around… his wand. Snape had given him his wand. Harry looked up at him, bewildered.

Snape stepped back, black eyes narrowing. "Tell Lupin it's time. He'll understand. Now go."

Harry staggered past him and climbed the cellar stairs, pushing the door open and surfacing into darkness. To the east, the sky was just beginning to show pink and orange. The sun would rise, and it would be day again, as if none of this had happened. He would wake up from this bizarre dream in which Malfoy wanted him and Snape freed him and...

Harry stared at the house before him, in the middle of an oddly Muggle suburban neighborhood. He was definitely dreaming.

But just in case he wasn't, he pictured Lupin's small cottage in his mind, and disapparated.

:: :: :: :: ::

~ fin ~

Crossposted to

pornish_pixies here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

zedmeister.livejournal.com

Yes. Yes! *Thank you*! This is exactly how I picture Harry reacting in a sitation like this, and it's gratifying to finally see someone actually write it. I'm getting so *tired* of Harry-is-raped-and-humiliated-but-secretly-enjoys-it-and-it-makes-him-feel-dirty stories. I know that that's a kink for many people, but I've always found Harry in them to be at least somewhat OOC. You've really captured his fighting spirit here.

From:

Yes, I'm here for the porn.

FIC: Still the Sun (H/D)

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