Sold harry/draco 12
Harry wasn't aware of how many hours had passed since he'd been left alone in the circular room with Rodolphus Lestrange. In the beginning, he had fought. He had kicked, twisted, and bit. He had done everything he could to get away, but the more he struggled the more Lestrange seemed to be enjoying himself. The sound of Hermione and Ron's torture, it had to be torture the way they screamed, fed his defiance. No matter the pain or humiliation, he knew he had to bear it as long as Ron and Hermione made noise. As long as he could hear them, he knew they still needed him.
It was until after their sounds were silent that he began to worry, that he began to loose hope. He glared hatred at the ceiling as Lestrange touched and defiled him. There was nothing he could do to protect his body, he soon realized, but as long as he held onto his spirit, he had still won. He tried to be wooden, he tried to be emotionless, he tried to escape from his terrible present. For his part, Rodolphus didn't seem to need Harry's participation to enjoy himself.
He had stripped Harry nude, torn off his clothes with a combination of charms, fingers, and teeth. He'd abused and debauched the hanging boy until he bled. When Lestrange felt he had accomplished everything he wanted while Harry hung, he reached up above the boy and cut the rope that hung him from the chandelier and let him fall to the ground with a limp thud.
"How do you feel?" Rodolphus asked as he crouched beside his captive, tilting his head to the side as his icy eyes drifted over the other's form.
Harry only groaned in response, pushing his face into the cold floor. He hadn't though it was possible, but being let down felt worse than when he had been suspended. As blood seeped slowly from his hands, it leaked out the cuts the ropes had left on his wrists rapidly, soaking the braided threads completely through. As feeling returned to his hands and arms it felt like needles were being shoved entirely through his appendages and into the floor beneath him.
"You're so beautiful now," Lestrange purred in an affectionate voice and rolled Harry's body onto it's back. Crawling on top of him, he perched on his captive's hips, looking down at him. "You're all red and blue and purple," Rodolphus continued to purr and leaned over him, biting Harry's already mauled lower lip and then down a trail of hickies to a mess of pulverized blue and purple skin, slick with blood from biting, no, chewing!
"Get off of me." Harry whimpered in a feverish voice and pushed at Lestrange weakly with his bound arms. "Just stop and give me a break, please!"
Lestrange laughed softly against him and drew his arms around Harry's torso, pulling him up and against his body. "What a funny little boy," he hugged Harry tightly, rocking him slightly back and forth. "I know what you'd like. I know what would make you happy. Do you want to be happy?" Tilting Harry's back to look up at him, Lestrange spoke softly, his lips trembling with the force of his smile.
He knew Rodolphus was waiting for some sort of response from him before continuing, but Harry was content to not say anything for as long as possible. Last time Rodolphus had asked him this very same question he'd done something so vile Harry didn't want to recall, but it had ended with long, drooling rivers of blood slowly dripping licking down his thighs. "No," Harry groaned finally when he felt the Death Eater reach behind him and begin to finger cut and raw skin.
"Yes you do!" Rodolphus exclaimed happily and tossed Harry onto the ground. Reaching over him, he picked up a slender knife, the blade and handle already slick and sticky with dried and drying blood.
"No, no, no! No I don't!" Even though he knew it made Rodolphus happy, Harry couldn't help but beg at the sight of that knife. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes but he was too exhausted to cry so he twisted beneath the stronger man, twisted away from the familiar blade.
"Yes, yes, yes! Yes you do!" Lestrange grinned and then slid the knife between the ropes that held Harry's hands, only cutting his palms a tiny bit before he severed the rope into pieces. Harry stared at Lestrange in shock as his hands fell woodenly to the ground, apart and on either side of his body. This man was letting him go?
"We're going to play a fun, fun game!" Lestrange smiled and pressed the knife against Harry's chest horizontally before leaving it there and getting to his feet. "You're the captive and I'm your evil jailer! You have to try and get out! If you can win, you escape but if you loose, well, the evil jailer will just have to punish his naughty prisoner.
Harry gulped, looking up at Lestrange from the ground. He tried to lift his arms to take the knife but they felt like they'd been cemented to the ground. If he could just get that knife, well, this might be a game he'd actually want to participate in.
Lestrange's eager smile slowly began to fade when Harry didn't grab the knife right away and jump up to attack him with it. "Don't you want to play," he asked.
"Just a second," Harry protested quickly. This opportunity, Rodolphus had to be crazy to give it to him, but he couldn't pass it up. Finally he lifted a heavy, dead feeling arm on his chest. His fingers felt the handle of the knife but actually curling them around it was another story entirely.
"Oh I see," Rodolphus' sunset of a smile melted into something more sinister as he knelt down over Harry again. "You started out so afraid of me, so afraid of this and what I was doing, but you eventually got used to it, didn't you? You actually started to like it!"
Green eyes went wide. Was he serious? From the way Lestrange was crawling slowly up the length of his body Harry realized that he was. "No, no, just give me a second," he pleaded.
"It's alright, pretty Potter," Rodolphus purred at he bent to kiss Harry's stomach and then bit a worn and red spot on his collar. "You can still pretend to fight, really I think it's much more exciting when my partner's unwilling."
Lestrange was almost completely on top of him again. With his eyes closed, Harry was only able to feel his hot, sticky breath and his blood-wet hand creeping down between his thighs to wrap crudely around him. Not again. His insides screamed, twisted, tightened, rebelled. Not again!
As Rodolphus squeezed the handful of Harry he now possessed, between their chests Harry's stubborn fingers finally curled around the slippery weapon. "Get OFF!" Harry shouted and turned the point of the serrated blade against Lestrange's body and pushed. He felt the metal sink past muscle and skin, a sickening, cutting feeling.
His captor stared down at him, his eyes round and moments later, a wet warmth spread over Harry's own chest as the other bled. Then, even more slowly than time now seemed to pass, Lestrange pushed himself up, the hilt of the knife protruding from his chest. "Oh pretty pet Potter," Haryr realized, as he stared at the blood that leaked around the weapon, that Rodolphus was laughing.
Rolling off of Harry's body, Lestrange sat back, lifting his hand to curl around the knife and pull it out of his chest with a sickening, slick sound. His smile hadn't faded and for once, it reached into his eyes, now alive with genuine pleasure. "Our blood's mingled now," Lestrange purred, lifting the knife and twirling it over the back of his hand methodically like Voldemort had done with his wand. "I can feel yours in mine." The blade of the knife was lifted to Lestrange's mouth. As he licked the length of it, the edges of the weapon tore into his tongue and issued more of what the Death Eater tried to clean away.
Harry stared, disbelief washing over him. He was enjoying this still, even stabbed and cut Rodolphus was enjoying himself! Finally, sense smacked him in the back of the head and Harry twisted around, forced his tired and aching body into action, on it's feet, and dove towards the door.
His actions made Rodolphus howl in delight and as Harry's shoulder collided with his exit, the knife Lestrange had been licking dug quivering into the wood just above the handle. He didn't stop to ponder it as he tore the door open and dove into the dark hallway beyond.
Lestrange was after him, Harry didn't have to look back to know. Although he didn't want to believe it, he was beginning to think that maybe the Death Eater was actually allowing him to stay just a step or two ahead.
He stumbled onward anyway, grabbing onto the walls for support and leaving long, smeared hand prints of blood behind him. He had to get away. He had to get his wand and get help, he had to save Ron and Hermione and Draco. He had to do so many things!
Tripping over his own uncooperative feet Harry pitched head first down a long flight of stairs. He could hear Lestrange laughing at him as he tumbled head over heals, banging his head and shins and shoulders against the wooden stairs.
He landed with a thud on his back, his glasses skittering away and forcing his world into blurred obscurity. He felt like he couldn't breathe, like a very heavy weight was sitting on his chest and in front of his damaged vision, bright flashes and stars danced. "Here I come, pretty Potter!" Lestrange called ominously.
He sucked in a burning, thick breath rolling onto his hands and knees on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Don't think about Lestrange, he told himself. Don't concentrate on his laughter, his jibes, the slow sounds of his footfalls as they approached, descending one step at a time. Just pick yourself up. That's right, Harry. One hand, then the other. On your knees now. Push up. One. Two. Three!
Harry shoved himself up onto his wavering knees, swayed slightly in place to regain his balance, and then lurched forward. He could see a door knob ahead of him, a brass smudge, an exit. He groaned again as he collided with his escape, numb, stupid fingers sliding stupidly over the handle as he grasped it.
The Gryffindor realized then, with a quick wash of panicked horror, that he couldn't get the door open. His hands were too wet with blood. Falling onto his knees he wrapped all of his fingers around the doorknob, pressing into it tightly with his fingertips and began to turn it. Nice and slow. He could still hear Lestrange coming down the stairs, he still had some time.
Finally, Harry was greeted by a welcomed rush of cold air and the thick smell of flowers from the overgrown garden that surrounded the Riddle house. He toppled outside, crawled down the front porch on his hands and knees and into the front yard. "Accio wand!" He hissed into the darkness, holding his hand out as he scrambled towards the front gate. "Accio wand!"
The only thing that came, however, was Lestrange. As soon as the door had opened he had ran down the rest of the stairs. The amused look had faded from his face replaced by one of determined fury as he ran through the parlor, out the front door and off the porch. He tackled Harry with a jump.
The pair of them rolled in the dirt and the grass, Harry crying out in surprise and hurt as grime and rocks pushed into his cuts and gashes. They landed heavily in the grass, Rodolphus on top of his captive. He was panting heavily even though he hadn't worked that hard, probably because of the now freely bleeding hole in his chest.
Rodolphus didn't pay his wounds any mind as he shoved Harry meanly against the unyielding ground. "I see. You just wanted to do it outside is that it?" Lestrange's voice was an enraged hiss and Harry yelped as Rodolphus firmly gripped his hips, pulling them off the ground. "Cry all you want," the Death Eater mocked, pushing Harry's face into the dirt with a hand on the back of his head. "No one is going to come and save you." With that, he pushed himself deeply inside the other boy and Harry, feeling like he was being torn in half all over again, screamed into the grass.
****
Harry was cold. He felt like ice. Even though he was no longer hanging from the ceiling, even though Lestrange had finally left him alone, he couldn't stop shivering. He lay curled up in the center of the room beneath the scraps of his robes, half asleep and half afraid he was freezing to death.
When he'd passed out for the third time, Rodolphus had dragged him back inside, let him faint once more, before he gave up and left him alone locked in the copper-smelling circular room. Since then, hours ago, he's wove in an out of sleep. Opening his eyes, Harry burrowed deeper down beneath the meager wrappings of his torn cloak and shivered.
He hadn't seen Draco since Lucius had dragged him from the room. It seemed so long ago, like so much had happened since then, that he couldn't even dredge up the memory of how it felt to have the other's lips against his own. It seemed like a far and distant past when he'd been in Draco's arms on the roof of the astronomy tower. He hoped that Draco was alright, somewhere. He hoped he hadn't given up hope and was fighting as much as he himself was trying to fight, as much as he'd heard Ron and Hermione fight.
When sunlight began to ooze through the warped panes of window glass, Harry rolled onto his side to watch it rise. According to Voldemort, this would be the very last he'd see. As the door creaked open, Harry felt dread well up in his chest and he slowly pushed himself up, ready to fight until the bitter end.
He didn't see Voldemort in the doorway though, wand brandished, ready to finally murder him. He didn't see Lestrange still smiling that bone chilling smile. He didn't see Bellatrix or Rabastan come back to toss the wasted bodies of his two best friends at him. He saw only Draco.
Even though Harry was missing his glasses and the other boy was just a blur, he looked smaller and paler than ever, wrapped in impossibly black robes. "There you are, Potter," Draco slid quickly into the room, failing to shut the door as he strode forward towards him. "Right where I left you. Right as I left you."
"Draco!" Harry felt his dread replaced by thick, hot relief. He wanted to shout in excitement, he wanted to wrap his arms around Draco and hold him forever. He wanted to finally relax, finally be saved and free. He wanted to hold onto him until he made everything, every last cut and scrape and hurt disappear. He was sure that Draco, and Draco alone, could do it for him. "You're finally here. Are you alright, what happened to you?" Harry pushed himself up, with the blonde's help, and gripped Draco's forearms, his fingers trembling. "What's your plan to escape?"
Draco smiled at him and lifted the hood of his robes, pulling them over his head.
Harry stared at him blankly. "You want to dress up like Death Eaters and escape? Draco," Harry tried to sound as delicate as possible as he spoke. "I don't think that's going to work. There are only three of them here anyway, they'd know it if four more suddenly showed up."
He watched as Draco's smile grew and he shook his head slowly, laughing. "A true idiot until the end, aren't you, Potter?" Draco asked, reaching over to pat the side of Harry's face lightly. "I'm not playing dress up."
"What?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing and a shiver running up his spine. He didn't like to look at Draco dressed up like that, with that hood over his head. He looked just like his father. "What does that mean? You're not playing dress up? I'm not playing either, Draco! We need to get out of here. We need to find Ron and Hermione and leave!"
Draco laughed again as he shook Harry's hands off of his arms. He turned away from him and walked slowly back towards the door, pushing it closed with a gentle click. "Do you remember what the Dark Lord said last night? About sunset?" Although Harry couldn't see Draco's eyes, he felt the sharp, gray gaze sink into him like teeth.
"He-He said that at sunset he'd come to kill me." Harry replied steadily. Why was Draco wasting time like this? Why was he standing around in those robes just talking to him! Didn't he know they had to escape? That probably, any minute, the Death Eaters would come back?
"Not exactly." Leaving the door, Draco came closer, stopping a few feet away in front of Harry. He looked down at him from beneath his hooded robes. "He said someone would come to kill you. But that's beside the point because the plans have been pushed up a little bit."
"P-pushed up?" A sudden idea began to sink into Harry's head. A terrible, gut-wrenching idea. He didn't want to entertain the possibility of it but when Draco reached into the folds of his soft-looking black robes and drew out a wand, Harry knew it was true. "Where did you get that," he asked, sitting back as he looked up at his supposed lover. His supposed changed man.
"I borrowed it," Draco replied briskly and lifted the instrument, his robes sliding free from his forearm to reveal a freshly burned impression of a skull, laced with a snake's coils. "I borrowed it from my Lord. To prove my devotion to him."
Harry leaned back away from the wand, didn't dare breathe as he stared at it, stared at the boy, stared at his arm. "S-so that's your p-plan huh?" He asked in a quivering voice. "T-to pretend t-to be one of them and...and..."
Draco tilted his head to the side, lifting a hand to guide the hood of his cloak back onto his shoulders. "Just admit it, Potter. You know exactly what's going on, so just say it."
"You...you.." Harry began and then closed his eyes tightly, looking again. "No! It's not true!"
"Don't be daft." Draco hissed blandly, stepping forward. He lifted a foot and placed it firmly on Harry's chest, shoving him onto his back.
The Gryffindor toppled expectedly, curling his hands around Draco's heel and looking up at him, unwilling to admit the sickening truth. Unwilling to admit that Draco had given in to the threat of his father, of Voldemort. That he had given into his fate. "Why couldn't you fight," Harry asked, his voice sounding as dead as he felt.
Draco looked down at him and then sighed, and with an annoyed roll of his eyes he lowered to sit astride the other boy, leaning over him. "I don't know, maybe you really don't understand. Let me explain it for you anyway. Do you remember what I said to you at the end of fifth year?" At the crushed look on Harry's face, the blonde shook his head and continued. "‘You're going to pay', I said. ‘I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my father'. That was a promise, not just an idle, hot-headed threat. I warned you. I told you. You were the one stupid enough to believe I wasn't a danger. You were so used to pushing me around all through school you didn't think I could do it, did you? You didn't think Draco Malfoy stood a chance against the omnipotent Harry Potter, the glorious Boy Who Lived."
"But you said you wanted to change," Harry heard himself protest, grasping the last vestiges of hope he had. "You said you wanted to be different. I thought-"
"I am different, Potter!" Draco snapped and lifting his wand, jabbed it threateningly against Harry's forehead. "I'm nothing like my parents. I'm not a babbling lunatic rotting away in Azkaban like my mother, sacrificing myself for something as stupid as love. I'm not a coward, groveling on my hands and knees, simpering for approval at You-Know-Who's feet like some lap dog like my father. Most of all, I'm not a stupidly brave, blind fool walking right into such an obvious trap to save a useless mudblood and pauper, believing that a five years sworn enemy finally had my back!"
"I don't understand," Harry droned on, reaching up to touch Draco's face. The blonde twisted away and glared down at him. "How can you choose this for yourself? How can you make such a stupid decision."
"‘How can you make such a stupid decision' wonders the doomed man, cut and bleeding and broken on the floor. I'm not the one who's going to die at the hands of someone I've come to care about." Slowly pushing himself up, Draco shook free of the filth he'd picked up from Harry while sitting on him and glared down at his shocked and disbelieving rival.
"But, Draco!" Harry looked up at him. When Draco stood he couldn't make out his features so well, he felt like he was dying already, reaching his hands up to him. "You...we....on the astronomy tower..."
"That," Draco began, his voice sharp and laced with poison. "That was easily the most disgusting thing I've ever had to do. I'm not an idiot, Potter, when you'd kissed me at Grimmauld Place, when I knew you," here, Draco sounded particularly disgusted, "wanted me...like that, I knew it was something I had to exploit. That was your first time, wasn't it? It endeared me to you, didn't it? To believe that I cared about you enough to be that close to you was a large step. To give yourself to me, let me be inside of you, possess you in a way that nobody ever had before was the highest degree of trust you could put in me. I had to have that. I had to exploit that. I had to take that from you and give that one sweet memory to you just so I could take it away, right here, right now."
Harry didn't realize he was crying until he tasted his tears on his mouth. "And...and on the t-train?" He stammered, gulping a painful mouthful of air.
"To win over your friends." Draco watched the Golden Boy melt at his feet, a superior smile twisting the corners of his mouth. "No matter how much you trusted me, with their constant nagging you'd always wonder...if maybe they weren't right. You should have listened to them, Potter. For once Weasley wasn't as much of an idiot as usual."
"But how...how could you...when did..how-" Harry grasped at a hundred things to say but couldn't finish a single sentence.
Draco, however, seemed to be waiting for just that. "After I saw my mother in Azkaban I knew what I had to do, Potter. That night after the attack in Diagon Alley, when we met in the drawing room, I really wasn't writing to my parents. Honestly. Just like I said I wasn't. I asked Mrs. Black for advice, she was a proud woman with many Death Eater relatives. She helped me contact the right people, letting my interest in You-Know-Who trickle through the lines of communication. I told them I had access to you, had a grip in you, that I could give you to them as revenge for what you'd done to my family. And so my plan began.
"I worked with the Lestrange brothers and Bellatrix secretly. We planned this together. When it would be best to attack you, how to lure you to this house, we planned it all in advance. That scene on the Express, how they escaped, don't you think that was a bit too big of a coincidence? We used it as a ploy to get all of you to trust me. When I hexed Rabastan it was all fake, a farce and when we ran to save you from his brother, he snuck away. When we went back to check on him, he took his brother and his brother's wife and left. And all the time I got closer and closer to you, separating myself from my house, my past, just to be more believable. . While we were at the astronomy tower fucking, I had sent out an owl in advance to Weasley and Granger to lure them out to the Pitch where Rodolphus was waiting for them.
"Of course I made sure we had finished up in enough time for you to witness their abduction. I was there, right next to you to make sure you didn't think too much, to make sure you went to save them instead of getting help or alerting the Order. I was there to lead you right into their hands and like a lamb you went along with everything, just as I knew you would. You're so eager for everything to work out nicely and in your favor that you'll believe anything that even remotely hints at that outcome. "I trust you, Draco. I trust you!" You said over and over like a fool. Look where your trust has gotten you now."
As Draco finished, he folded his arms over his chest. The door to the circular room opened admitting Rabastan and Bellatrix, who tossed Ron and Hermione on the ground. Each of them was a bloody, twisted mess much like Harry assumed he must look. He wasn't sure if they were dead or alive, they seemed so still. Harry watched his two housemates, begging them silently to breathe while the scar on his forehead began to throb.
Somewhere, Voldemort was giddy with happiness.
Harry turned his eyes back to Draco, hurt and betrayal replaced by bloody hatred. But, before he could push off the floor and attack him, magical ropes shot from the end of Draco's wand and curled around his body, forcing him to fall back to the floor painfully.
"Do you see them, Potter," Draco drawled, tipping his chin towards Ron and Hermione. "That's the price people pay for being friends with Harry Potter. Now," He said, his eyes dead on Harry's face as he lifted Voldemort's wand again. "Let me show you the price for being a hero."
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12 (final)