Chapter 9
Author's Note:
The saga of Harry Potter's years-long struggle with the evil Voldemort had many twists and turns. In every year of that struggle there was at least one day about which one could say, "That was a turning point." These were days which, if things had gone differently, would have caused the whole drama to have had a much different ending. And one would be hard-pressed to claim that any of these incidents, these turning points, was more critical to the eventual fall of Voldemort than one memorable day in Malfoy Manor during the final year of that great struggle.
Readers will recall that the bullying Draco Malfoy, as close to an archenemy as Harry had among his age-mates, given a golden opportunity to expose Harry and in so doing turn him over to Voldemort and certain death, elected instead to pretend to not recognize him. (The always quick-thinking Hermione had cast a jinx on Harry that grotesquely distorted his features, yet it is clear from Ms. JKR's fine account of the incident that Draco did in fact know it was the real Harry Potter that Fenrir Greyback and his fellow mercenaries had captured.) There has been much speculation in the potterverse about why Draco did not deliver his captive to Voldemort. Draco was really a good guy after all!! Draco was too cowardly to be the one responsible for Harry's demise!! Draco was secretly in love with Harry!! The absurdities proliferate.
The real reason for Draco's subterfuge? Well, dear readers, the real reason is more despicable than any of these theories -- more despicable, more disgusting and yet, it must be admitted, more exciting too, at least for those of us who find young male sexuality in all its expressions exciting. Let us return in our imaginations to Malfoy Manor and discover what really happened.
On that fateful day Harry, Hermione and Ron were all being held captive in the Malfoy mansion. Because the Malfoys suspected their true identities despite their disguises, word was about to be sent to Voldemort that at long last his enemy Harry Potter had been captured. Before that could happen, however, Lucius Malfoy's sister-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange, became irate about the sword that had been confiscated when the three young people were apprehended. She believed it to have been stolen from her own vault, and was determined to get to the bottom of what happened. She began torturing Hermione to get at the truth, while Harry, Ron and the goblin Griphook were temporarily banished to the cellar. Or so we were told. The truth was just slightly different.
Yes, Ron and Griphook were indeed sent belowstairs and yes, there they encountered Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood and Garrick Ollivander, who were also being held captive. But Harry Potter was not with them. Instead, before Harry's two companions were unceremoniously shoved below by Fenrir Greenback, Draco, who had followed the werewolf out of the Malfoy great room, informed him he would attend to Harry Potter himself. Greyback gave Draco a sneer but returned to the great room, while Draco shut the cellar door and turned his attention to Harry alone as they stood in the hallway off the great room.
"I think something different for you, Potter," the white-haired boy smirked. He gestured down the hall in the opposite direction from the room where the Malfoys and Hermione were, and from which their voices could be dimly heard.
"You--" Harry began.
"Shut up, Potter!" Draco gestured menacingly with his wand. "No more talk! There's nothing you can say that will help you. And," he added, giving the boy a shove forward, "I don't want to hear one more syllable from your Potter-the-Hero mouth."
Draco pushed Harry forward again down the hall and at the far end yanked open a door and shoved Harry into a brightly lit room.
"Potter-the-Pervert, more likely!" he added, as if upon further reflection.
Draco shoved Harry down onto a rather dusty couch.
"Oh yes, Potter the Pervert!" he continued. "You think I don't know about what you and that loser Weasley are up to? You know, in those nighttime moments when everyone else is asleep? I know all right -- and when I'm done everyone will know. Once you're finally dead that will be your legacy. They'll all know the great Harry Potter sucked dick! They'll all know he took it up the bum! And loved it."
"I--"
Draco slashed the air with his wand and pain burned Harry's cheek so shockingly that he stopped with a gasp, and tears of agony filled his eyes.
As Draco Malfoy stood over Harry as if over a fallen victim there was a glint of triumph in his eyes. And something else, too. Something just a bit mad.
He leaned his face down close to Harry's.
"Now, finally, comes a bit of reckoning, Potter. A bit of payback." His voice was cold and sinister. In fact, Draco's voice, though differently-pitched and adolescent, was remarkably like that of -- Voldemort himself.
Just then a shriek rent the air, a shriek of terrible pain, loud even several rooms and a corridor away.
"Sounds as if Wesley's little whore is getting what she deserves," Draco observed in his intentionally annoying drawl.
And then Draco began to remove his own robe.
"Take off your clothes, Potter."
"You aren't going--"
Harry's cry of refusal was cut short by another blast of pain from Draco's wand.
"Sort of a dumb turd, aren't you Potter?" Draco sneered as he tossed aside his robe and then pulled his T-shirt from his trousers. "Now just shut up and cooperate like a good boy."
Even with his cheek on fire with pain and his eyes blurry from tears Harry stared at Draco's torso. The boy had shockingly white skin, and blue veins were clearly visible on his flat belly and slender, sinewy arms. There did not seem to be an ounce of fat on his body.
"Like what you see, Potter?" Draco jeered. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he unsnapped his jeans, tucked one thumb into the waistband, and shoved both pants and briefs partway downward, exposing one hip and the corner of an absolutely snow-white patch of pubic hair.
"Time for some fun! Let's go, Potter!" Draco yelled suddenly, waving his wand in a menacing manner. "Strip!"
Harry lay motionless as if paralyzed with shock at what was happening. He was doubtless wondering if Draco was actually planning to do the awful thing Harry suddenly feared.
"No?" Draco yelled. "Have it your way, then!"
With that Draco pointed his wand at Harry and yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Immediately Harry's arms snapped to his sides, his legs came together as if bolted, and the only parts of his body that moved at all were his eyes, which widened and moved quickly around, as if somehow an escape from the full body-bind curse could be found in some overlooked corner of the room.
Smirking with satisfaction, Draco kicked off his shoes and then shoved his jeans and briefs down to his knees.
"Take a good look, Potter-the-Pervert!" he said in an insinuating one. He shoved his hips forward, and Harry's eyes automatically went to what sprang out from there.
An extremely long, extremely slender, extremely pink penis, half-erect and rising, extended outward, pointing straight at Harry Potter, as if searching for him like a sentient thing, menacing and urgent. Draco caressed it slowly with one finger.
"Whaddya say, Potter? You'd just love to have a little taste, wouldn't you?"
With that Draco quickly tossed the rest of this clothes aside, then stepped forward and leaned one knee against the couch where Harry rigidly lay. His eyes boring into the defenseless Harry's, he began slowly stroking his sword-like erection.
"Can't take your eyes off it, can you Pervie? Yeah, you'd love to feel how hot and hard it is, wouldn't you? All right then!!"
With that Draco leaned forward still farther, eased his foreskin back, and began rubbing the blazing pink head of his now fully engorged cock against Harry Potter's cheek. All Harry could do in response is close his eyes, as the cockhead made circles on his cheek, pushed at his nostrils, and caressed his forehead.
"Yeah, Potter, that's good, innit?"
As Draco's glans smashed against Harry's nose the meatus yawned open, wet and red, and as Draco drew it again across Harry's cheek it left a mark, a streak of glistening pre-cum.
Draco gave a little cry of glee at that.
"Normally I wouldn't let Gryffindor pervs like you even touch my dick, but I feel sorry for you Potter, I really do. You don't have an hour left on this earth alive -- your scummy little friends too. So I'm gonna give you a nice sendoff. But first I'm gonna let you taste some Slytherin cockjuice! Yeah!"
With that Draco placed the mouth of his cockhead directly on Harry's slightly parted lips, then grabbed his cock at the base and, squeezing firmly, slowly stripped it all the way to the head, forcing out a large bubble of clear pre-cum. Grabbing a fistful of Harry's longish hair with one hand he drew his cockhead with the other slowly back and forth over Harry's thin red lips, covering them with cock slime.
"Mmmm, good, right Potter?" Draco chortled loudly as if he had made some sort of great joke.
Draco flinched then, startled as another shriek from Hermione penetrated the air.
"Hear that, Potter? Guess she's not having much fun on her first visit to Malfoy mansion, right? Her first and last."
Although he couldn't move a muscle Harry's eyes blazed with rage.
"Well, I reckon it's time for the main event," Draco announced, and with that he reached down, grabbed Harry's T-shirt in both hands, and attempted to pull it off him. However, the jinx that virtually nailed Harry's arms to his sides prevented Draco from removing it. Frowning in irritation the boy abandoned his attempt and instead reached for the top of Harry's jeans. He was able to get them unsnapped and unzipped, laughing as he did so at the obvious alarm in Harry's eyes. But when it came to removing his pants he was no more successful than with his T-shirt.
"Fuck!" muttered Draco. He reached for his wand, stood indecisive for a moment, and then flicked it at Harry, saying, "Finite incantate."
He had reversed the spell, and the words were scarcely out of his mouth before Harry's body snapped to life. All in one motion he leaped to his feet and with a snarl of rage hurled himself at Draco's midsection, knocking him hard against the opposite wall, as the wand went flying. The two grappled ferociously then, banging and thrashing around the room, Draco hurling insults and obscenities, Harry grappling silently, red-faced, teeth gritted in determination.
Although slightly shorter than Draco Harry was quicker and more agile, and after another few breathless, heated moments had managed to press the naked boy down onto his back on the couch, and his forearm was across Draco's throat. Meanwhile Draco had scissored his legs around Harry's waist and gripped a fistful of the boy's long hair, which he was tugging mercilessly to one side as if to rip it from his scalp. The boys strained at each other, muscles quivering, otherwise almost motionless, their strength almost perfectly matched, staring ferociously into each other's eyes.
Another terrible scream rent the air.
"They're about to kill her, you know," Draco gasped.
Harry stared at him.
Suddenly Draco's expression changed, even as his face was reddening as he had difficulty breathing. He looked as if he had just had a lifeline thrown to him.
" . . . unless . . ." he managed to choke.
Harry still stared, teeth gritted in pain as Draco practically yanked his hair out.
"Unless what?" he finally managed.
"Let me breathe and I'll tell you!"
After a second Harry released the pressure on Draco's windpipe, though he left his forearm resting menacingly on Draco's throat.
"Let go of my hair then!" he muttered.
Draco did so, a small smile now on his face.
" . . . unless . . . I tell her to stop," Draco hissed.
"Why should she care what you say?" Harry snarled.
Draco smirked. "I'm her pet. She'll do anything I ask."
The two stared at each other, Harry in doubt and confusion, Draco in triumph.
"I'll stop her if you just do one little thing for me, Potter. Just a tiny little sacrifice. One last chance to be the big hero before you die!"
"What?!" Harry snapped, still enraged, yet with a sliver of hope rising within him.
Draco threw back his head, closed his eyes and laughed the laugh of one for whom a delicious triumph is at hand.
Then, grinning maliciously, he leaned up and whispered something into Harry's ear.
"No fucking way!" Harry bellowed, pressing down again on Draco's windpipe.
Just then there came another shriek. Startled, Harry relaxed the pressure on Draco's throat momentarily.
"I guess you really don't care much about your mudblood friend then!" Draco jeered. "You just want to save your own bum! Literally!"
Harry bowed his head. There was a long silence.
"Right, then," he finally sighed softly, defeated.
"So we understand each other?" crowed Draco. "I fuck your scrawny Gryffindor bum even though for some reason you don't seem to much like the idea. You cooperate with that and I arrange for the, um, interrogation to stop. Simple. Nothing to it!"
Harry nodded morosely, still eying Draco with suspicion, obviously not trusting him, but realizing the had no choice.
"Gerroff me then," said Draco cheerily.
Harry slowly rose to his feet and began disrobing. If he had been paying any attention at all to Draco Malfoy then he would probably have noticed that his archenemy's eyes were glued to Harry's body. To his narrow six-pack as he drew his T-shirt over his head. To the small tuft of black hair in an armpit. To the hairless, softly curving chest, slightly pink and damp with sweat. To the small biceps that knotted as he unzipped his jeans fully and shoved them down. And then, almost as if without thinking, Harry's eyes met and held Draco's as he shoved down his briefs.
Although he may not have wanted to, it was as if Draco could not avoid dropping his eyes then and looking, for the first time, at what he could never have seen before but must surely have heard whispered about. At the thick, creamy, vein-wrapped organ hanging straight down, immense even though completely unaroused, perhaps 10 inches in length, swinging slightly as the boy took off his briefs and pants, kicked them aside and then stood, fists on hips, eying Draco defiantly.
If Draco Malfoy was at all intimidated by the massiveness of Harry's endowment he hid it well. He rose to his feet, casually fingering his own erection, enormous in its own right. He stepped forward.
"On your knees, Potter. You've gotta get it nice and wet first."
Harry stared at Draco's menacing organ, swallowed, and hesitated.
"Dammit, Potter, do it, or the torture continues!"
Heaving a huge sigh, Harry complied. Draco stepped forward, gripping his now disturbingly red cock, which extended out 5 inches or more from the top of his fist.
Harry leaned forward.
"Wait!" Draco said, as if suddenly struck by a thought.
"Accio my sourpod juice!!" he cried. The words were scarcely our of his mouth before a small jar zoomed into the room through the open door and into Draco's outstretched hand.
With a smirk Draco uncapped it and took a large swallow.
"Mmmm," he murmured with satisfaction, leering at Harry. "I'm sure all you Gryffindors suck cock all the time, but just in case you're not much good at it . . ." he took another reckless swallow . . . " it'll still feel jolly good now, eh?"
Draco tossed the jar aside then and grabbed a fistful of Harry's black locks.
Yanking his hair roughly he instructed, "Just give it a few licks at first. By the time you're sucking me good the SP will kick in."
And then began what surely must have been the most humiliating few minutes of Harry Potter's young life.
Draco slid his long silky foreskin back, then pressed the flaming red head of his erect cock against Harry's lips. With a grunt of disgust Harry stuck out the equally red tip of his tongue and began stroking it roughly against the rim of the cockhead.
"Yeah, Potter," Draco murmured, and then gave a little chuckle. "Now suck the whole thing in . . . nice and slow . . . that's it."
Harry's eyes were squeezed shut, as if by not looking at what he was doing the ordeal was somehow less awful. Slowly his stretched lips slipped forward over more of Draco's cock.
"Come on, Potter, the whole thing, don't be a pussy . . . ooh, yeah!"
Draco gave a chortle of triumph.
"Harry-the-Hero Potter on his knees sucking Slytherin dick! Love it!"
Draco gripped the back of Harry's head then with both hands, settled his legs, and then slowly thrust his cock a little deeper into Harry's mouth, until Harry held the whole cockhead in. Draco then pulled back a little, then drove in a bit deeper, then back out, then deeper still, over and over. His head thrown back, his eyes closed in ecstasy, the pleasure-enhancing power of the sourpod juice was taking full effect.
Over half his rigid organ was now disappearing into Harry's wide-stretched mouth and down his throat, most of it then reappearing, slick and shining with a mixture of Harry's saliva and his own pre-cum.
"Suckin' it deep and not even chokin'! I knew you were an expert cocksucker, Potter! All you stuck-up Gryffindors think you're so fuckin' manly! But you're takin' it like a little witch-bitch, ain't ya?"
With that Draco gripped Harry's hair even tighter, drew his hips back, and paused, his small, white, hairless asscheeks clenching, the defined muscles of his back tensing, his calves knotting as he rose onto his toes. And then--
"YAH" Draco cried, as he drove every inch of his hard, slim crimson spear down Harry's throat. Harry choked and gagged, but Draco held his face jammed into his crotch, Harry's nose buried in his small bush of snow-white pubic hair.
As Harry began to shove against Draco's thighs for relief, Draco finally pulled his cock completely free.
"All right, enough of that!" he announced with glee, his glistening organ waving almost frantically in the air. "On your belly, you pervert! Time for you to get what you really crave! You know you want it!"
With that he shoved hard against Harry's shoulder. The beaten boy reluctantly turned over and splayed himself out on the couch.
"Just do it and shut up, Malfoy!" Harry snarled.
"Oh I'll do it, alright. But you gotta beg me, Potter. If you want your slutty little friend to stop screaming, that is!"
With that Draco slapped one palm hard against Harry's left asscheek, gripped the firm flesh, pulled it roughly aside, and nosed his organ into Harry's bumcrack. As Harry lay passively, awaiting his fate, Draco nudged around a bit, then seemed satisfied.
"Right. Now I want to hear it, Potter. I want to hear, "Please, oh please, Draco! Please fuck me sir!"
Harry was silent, no doubt struggling with himself.
"Let's go, Potter-the-Pervert! I don't know how much longer the little mudblood bitch can hold out against the pain! My aunt is very skilled at making people -- uncomfortable!"
Harry let out a huge breath of air.
"Please fuck me!" he snarled in a strangled voice.
"I'm just your little bitch! Say it!"
"I'm your little bitch!"
"I want a big mess of Slytherin cum deep inside me!"
"Fuck, just do it, Malfoy!" Harry bellowed.
Draco chuckled, then shoved one hand against the back of Harry's head, jamming it hard into the seat of the couch. Eagerly, his lust obviously overcoming him now, making him impatient, he scrambled to position one knee next to Harry's hips and, with the other foot pushing against the floor for leverage, he began leaning his weight into Harry.
For a few seconds nothing happened, Draco baring his teeth in an animal grimace, Harry's jaw clenched with effort against the mounting pain. Then, simultaneously, Harry let out an involuntary groan of agony and Draco gave a yell of pleasure, as his cock began to sink ever so slightly into the young wizard's bum. After a few seconds Draco stopped, puffing a few times as Harry gasped in pain. Then Draco began struggling to force himself in deeper.
"Ah, fuck, you're tight, Potter! As tight as a virgin! I heard Weasley has a little tiny dick -- I guess he never opened you up much all those times he fucked you!"
Harry was silent as Draco gave a harsh laugh and began again to cram himself with agonizing slowness into Harry's bowels.
"Time for a man's dick in you now, Potter. Yeah!" Draco was panting harder now, sucking air through his teeth as he drew himself slowly out and then re-entered Harry again and then again. As the sourpod juice took him higher and higher his breathing became more ragged and desperate as he thrust deeper and deeper. Meanwhile Harry was silent, trying desperately to adjust as Draco's thrusts pounded his slim body.
Minute after minute went by. Draco was now hitting bottom with every thrust, and as he did so the slender sword of his dick, dragging over Harry's prostate time after time began to cause his victim's penis to swell with arousal. Harry was no doubt humiliated at the beginnings of an erection, but was powerless to stop it, and in any case probably realized that Draco was unaware of it.
Indeed, Draco seemed almost out of his mind with lust, head lolling a bit, a little drool at the corner of his mouth, as his slender hips snapped forward again and again and again. There was no more talk now, no taunting, no bragging. Large doses of sourpod take a person's mind away from reality. In Draco's case he had swallowed so much of the juice he would by that point have lost all awareness of Harry, of the room, of the mansion, of the whole situation, as he traveled out into realms of pleasure unimaginable to those who have not tasted the strange, pungent musk of the magical herb.
Meanwhile, Harry's huge organ continued to swell. When Draco had begun to rape him the pain would have been intense, of course, but as the minutes went by Harry's' face relaxed, as one's face does when sharp pain turns to dull pain, which turns to mere discomfort, which turns to a sort of neutral fullness, and then, whether a person likes it or not, there begin to be creeping tendrils of pleasure, of satisfaction, winding their way through one's bowels, one's scrotum, one's cock. Of course even mere 17-year-old muggles are as highly charged sexually as human beings ever get, but nearly all boy wizards have by that age developed literally hair-trigger sexual reactions quite surpassing those of any muggle. And so of course the anal stimulation Harry was receiving, while absolutely unwanted and indeed humiliating, had its inevitable effect. In another couple of minutes Harry Potter's ragingly hard cock, all 12 1/2 inches of it, stretched uncomfortably out beneath him, extending far past his navel nearly to his breastbone, rubbing uncomfortably against the rather rough fabric of the couch every time Draco would thrust into him.
"Mngh . . . mngh . . . mngh . . . mngh." With each thrust Draco gave a soft grunt, and with every grunt Harry gave a little gasp of pleasure, as his will to resist began to fade. Before long his face was not the face of a humiliated victim. Rather, it was the face of surrender, surrender to the seductive pleasure of pure adolescent lust, to the craving for release.
Indeed, Harry Potter might have completely forgotten himself at that point if not for what happened next. With a shriek like that of a ghoul, Draco suddenly froze, his penis as deeply embedded into Harry as it had ever been. His alabaster, sweat-gleaming back arched, his arms locked and braced against Harry's damp back, his bum flattened, every muscle of his lean torso tensed, and then his eyes suddenly flew open, his startled expression motionless as he stared blankly into space, and then . . .
"YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" he shrieked again, and began to pound spurt after spurt after spurt of thick wizard boycum deep inside Harry Potter.
Harry appeared to snap back to reality then and as he gritted his teeth and squinted with his eyes tightly shut he was clearly willing himself to hold back from cumming himself, to not give Malfoy the satisfaction of knowing he had debased his enemy even further by forcing him to cum with pleasure against his will. As Draco slammed his spunk into him Harry's own flaming cock dragged over the couch again and again, aching for release, but the boy wizard would not allow it.
As wizards usually are able to do under the spell of sourpod Draco screwed on and on, gasping and groaning, thrashing and spasming, squeezing every last drop of his cum out of himself and then continuing unabated for a minute or more, his years of training and practice automatically kicking in as he prolonged his orgasm as only wizards can do. But at long last he was depleted, and he collapsed like a dying man on top of Harry.
Both boys lay still, panting, and for a moment it was almost as if they had been partners, copulating together in a moment of joyous, bonded pleasure.
"Get the fuck off me Malfoy," Harry finally gasped. "You got what you wanted."
Looking as if he would not at all have minded lying in exhausted rest on top of Harry for awhile longer, Draco nevertheless roused himself, and without a thought for how it would feel yanked his sticky, flame-red organ out of Harry's behind.
"Get dressed, Potter," Draco said sternly, snatching up his wand from the far corner of the floor, trying to reassert command as he reached for his own clothes.
The two boys dressed silently.
"Let's go," Draco said, shoving Harry ahead of him out of the door and into the hallway.
Draco swung open the door to the cellar. "You down here."
Harry hesitated.
"You tell her first," he insisted.
"Tell who what?" Draco replied, all mock innocence.
"Don't be a twit. You know what."
"Oh that," drawled Draco. "Well, as I recall, the deal was that you'd cooperate with me even though you didn't like the idea, and I'd put a stop to the fun and games even though I'd really prefer that your mudblood get what's coming to her. But I saw your dick, Potter -- you liked it just fine, perv that you are! So since you didn't really have to do anything against your will, I don't have to do anything against mine! Now get down there!"
And before the astonished Harry could even think, Draco gave him a shove that sent him staggering down the stairs. As Harry managed to regain his balance he heard the lock click up above, and then a long peal of derisive laughter.