TBGCTBGC
He Defines Me
Chapter Thirteen
Severus could hear them laughing from the end of the corridor and nearly bit his tongue to keep from smiling. It was easy enough to pick out Harry’s higher, far more desperate voice, and despite the fact that Severus knew it was probably wrong of him to delight in hearing his young lover sound so much like the child he was, knowing Harry had never truly been a child somehow made it all right.
He quietly opened the door, not wanted to disturb them yet, and followed the laughter to the back of the couch to stare down at them in amusement. "Really, Malfoy, what did he do to deserve this?"
Harry’s eyes opened wide and as Draco’s fingers stilled in shocked at the sudden voice behind him Harry sat up, knocking the blonde onto his ass on the ground. Severus took a steadying step back as the boy barreled into him, burying his face in the older man’s robes, "Severus!"
Draco stared at them for a moment, sour faced, before standing up and rubbing his tail bone, which he was sure was bruised, "Really, Harry, you could have asked me to let you up."
The other boy turned his head out of Severus’ robes, "You wouldn’t have."
He shrugged and Harry stuck his tongue out as Severus’ chuckled, "I think he’s hung around you long enough to know that asking is not the way to get what he wants."
Smirking smugly, Draco put his hands innocently behind his back, "It’s worked before."
With an indignant noise, Harry grabbed a nearby pillow and launched himself at Draco, clipping the top of his head in defense of his tattered dignity. "Hey, watch the hair!" In response, Harry pelted him again, mimicking his friend's trademark smirk. Draco narrowed his eyes and went to grab another pillow, "That’s it!"
As he started to pull up, pillow slightly raised, he heard a hissing sound from directly behind him and stopped, standing perfectly still. Harry had become deathly pale. For a moment he’d looked scared, right before his face went gone blank as though he wasn’t there. Harry’s fingers uncurled from the pillow and it landed on the floor with an insignificant bounce.
Draco tore his eyes away from his friend. Feeling the foreboding building up inside himself, he looked towards Snape, hoping his teacher would be come reassurance, but he was standing rigid, eyes wide, skin a slight shade of yellow like he was about to be sick.
He felt an unknown hand run through his hair and started to step away, afraid that whatever had stunned the two was now touching him, but the fingers tightened around his platinum strands, jerking him to a stop. He stayed still, even when the grip loosened, and allowed whoever it was to continue the ministrations, until the hand was removed. Diving forward Draco got behind Harry, clutching his friend’s limp shoulders for support.
The man in front of him was not entirely unattractive, he wasn’t wearing a cloak, and it was obvious that while thin and tall, his was by no means lanky, Draco could make out the slight definition of muscle through the tight cotton slacks. His skin was pale, though not so much as Harry, and his hair was jet black streaked with contrasting white grey. What made Draco shiver and clutch his friend tighter was the man’s eyes, tinted red over light hazel from years of doing the darkest of magic.
What gave away who it was had nothing to do Harry’s sudden submissive posture or Snape looking as though he might drop any moment, it was the possessiveness in those frightening eyes as he stared at Harry. This was Lord Voldemort, You Know Who, the Dark Lord, Tom, Master.
Draco tried to shrink farther behind Harry as the man held out a hand towards them, "Pet."
Harry stepped forward, moving his feet in precise steps as though in a trance, and came to stop less than a foot away from his former master. Voldemort reached a hand down, placing it on the top of Harry’s head and running it over the left side of his face and onto his bare neck, fingering the uniformly pale skin, "Your collar is gone."
When Harry said nothing he did not appear angry, only tilted the boy’s face up to see into the clouded green eyes a moment before lowering his own face to rest less than inches above the boy’s. Draco thought they were going to kiss, and hoped he could keep his stomach from doing the cartwheels it was already threatening, however, Voldemort moved his thumb across Harry’s lower lip, opening the boy’s mouth and hissed into the open cavity.
Almost immediately, Harry’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went limp. An arm snaked around Harry’s waist, holding his sagging form against the Dark Lord protectively. Draco saw Snape take a step forward, fear and worry reflected in his halted movement. He stopped, however, as Voldemort looked up, all traces of humanity fading quickly, leaving them glowing red in pure anger.
Draco wanted to move away but his feet felt rooted to the spot. Severus paled further, if anymore blood drained from his face he really was going to pass out. Moving a finger around Harry’s cheek, Voldemort snarled at the death eater, "It isn’t dead, Severus, just asleep. You are a very lucky man, I don’t have the time to deal with you now. But I’ll have the time soon enough, and it will last for days." His gaze shifted for a moment, looking down at the boy in his arms, "Perhaps it can watch."
With Him looking away Draco decided to make his move, forcefully uprooting his feet and taking a step back. Voldemort’s eyes sudenly focused on him and he gulped heavily. Okay, moving hadn’t been the best idea. "You must be young Draco Malfoy, pity your father kept you hidden for so long." Draco flinched, unsuccessfully trying to hide fear. "You will return home for the holidays unless you wish to inherit the estate for Christmas."
Voldemort smiled slightly, a menacing, lustful smile, and Draco finally managed to stumble back, stopping beside Snape and watching as Voldemort sudenly blinked out of existence, taking Harry with him.
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The first thing Harry felt was someone prying his fists open. He tried to pull them away, but the fingers working their away into his were persistent. He’d never been able to sleep with his hands open. In fact, Master used to wake him up this way. The left one was opened and a nail began to play over the palm. He laughed at the ticklish sensation, pleased that his lover was in such a playful mood, "Severus, tickles."
The finger stopped moving and Harry whimpered softly, burying his face into the clothes he felt against his cheek. It didn’t smell like Severus. It smelled like Tom. It was Tom. Looking up sudenly, he flinched at the anger gleaming across Tom’s face.
That wasn’t right, it wasn’t Tom, it was Master. Master had come to get him. He looked around the room quickly, taking in the new surroundings. He had not honestly expected to be in the old room, Master would not be stupid enough to take him back there if it had been attacked. This room was much larger and mostly barren, with a bay window, and a large window seat. He could see the stars outside, and allowed himself to stare longingly at them. There had been no windows in Severus' chambers. His chair was there, and a few of the books he’d liked the most were stacked in a corner as there was no book shelf.
He almost didn’t notice it at first, but on his second scan around the room he spotted his cage on the floor and felt a deep ache in his chest. He looked at it a moment longer before tearing his gaze away, half wondering why it made him feel so strange, so uncomfortable.
Master was sitting very still, looking down at him, his gaze never wavering. Harry sat up, trying to control his breathing as it was suddenly very difficult. It reminded him of when Severus had taken him to the Great Hall and he had seen all those people, it reminded him of fear, "Master?"
Master scowled deeply, suddenly gripping Harry’s chin hard between his fingers, "You’ve been a bad pet."
Harry wanted to move away, wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. Master had said thing like that before, but never with that much anger.
"You’ve been playing with other people." Master let go of his chin, running he fingers down to his neck and squeezing hard, cutting off his breath, "And you took off your collar."
Just when Harry thought he would have to either struggle or let himself pass out Master let go, allowing him to sink to the bed clutching the sheets and taking large gulps of air, "Master, please, I..."
He heard the sound of flesh smacking against flesh before he felt it. His lip was split. Master had hit him. He put his hand up to his face, touching it tenderly before pulling it away. Blood. Master reached behind him and grabbed his hair, pulling Harry around to lay on his back, head against one of the many pillows, "You do not speak, unless spoken to."
Harry held back choked sobs, but he felt the tears running down his cheek despite his best effort. Master let go of his hair, and began stroking his cheek, brushing the tears as though they weren’t there, in a mockery of what he used to do early in the morning, "What else have you forgotten, pet?"
Moving the hand down and over Harry’s collar bone, he began methodically unbuttoning the shirt. Harry closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the pain in his lip, on anything other than the fact that he finally understood what Draco meant by not wanting it, by not being in the mood.
Almost as soon as his eyes had closed the hand lashed across his face again, causing Harry to cry out, "Have you ever closed your eyes before?" Mutely, Harry shook his head and Voldemort smiled, it would have been soothing, if Harry could not still see the anger in his eyes and feel it on his stinging cheek, "Then don’t do it now."
The farther Master got down on the shirt, the slower he went, and Harry had to hold his breath to keep from begging. He didn’t want to be touched like this, like a pet. He wanted Severus, wanted his kind hands, and sweet words.
As though guessing what Harry was thinking, Master looked up, staring into his eyes, reading them. The anger wavered for a moment, and Harry hoped, prayed that he was rethinking it. Instead, he felt the hand that had so deftly unbuttoned his shirt latch onto his wrist and slam it above his head, against the metal framework of the headboard.
A sharp hiss issued from Master’s mouth, one Harry knew very well, and he felt the loop of his cuff open and close around the sturdy, slim post. Despite better judgement, despite knowing he would be in trouble, Harry tugged at it desperately. Master only used them for punishment, to leave him chained to the bed all day to teach him not to talk out, or touch things he was not supposed to. This felt different, the look in Master’s eyes was different.
Still, he hoped. When Master stood and walked to the door he hoped it was the same, hoped he was just being left to learn his lesson, even if he knew it couldn’t be true. "Master?"
Master looked back sharply and turned to something on the other side of the door, "Get in here."
When Lucius came around the corner, curiosity and evil glinting in his pale grey eyes, Harry felt himself clawing at the cuff, instinctively knowing what was coming, "Please, Master, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry."
Master looked at him, a very calculated gaze, before turning back to Lucius, "Punish him however you like, but leave no mark you can not heal before I see him in the morning."
As the smile on Lucius face spread, Harry kicked at the bed, desperately trying to dislodge the cuff, "No! Master, please! I won’t do it again!"
Voldemort looked back at it as Lucius began walk towards the bed. It was full out crying, sobs rending violently from its throat, "Please!? God, please, I am, I’m sorry, Master. Please."
Stealing himself against the cries and screams he turned around and closed the door behind him.
From experience Harry knew that the buckle was locked in place, but he pried at it anyway, trying not to see Lucius undress and sit next to him. Master had left him there to be punished, raped. Draco had told him about rape, although he had not understood at the time. He had barely understood the meaning of wanting sex, let alone avidly not wanting it.
He understood now though, understood completely as Lucius gripped his hips and forced him to stay still. He straddled him, ignoring Harry’s desperate sobs, and half hearted attempts to get the cuff off, "I can’t believe Severus saw fit to put you in such hindersome clothing, and cotton even. How have you managed?"
The pants tightened around his waist for a moment before he heard a snapping sound. He looked down to see that Lucius had ripped through the three buttons holding the them up. When he began tugging the pants down, Harry became desperate, futilely bucking up to dislodge the man, "Master, please!?"
Lucius leaned down, chuckling in his ears as he working them past his feet, "Master isn’t here, pet. Master is probably in the kitchens by now having dinner. What did you say to make him so angry? He’s always told me to be gentle, to make sure I didn’t treat you rough." To emphasis his point he raked his long finger nails down Harry’s chest, drawing blood in their wake.
Harry screamed at the sensation and went limp, "I... I played with Severus." He forced himself to use the terms he’d been taught before, the ones he had associated with sex. He didn’t want to imagine what Lucius would do if he heard Harry say they’d made love.
Lucius snickered in his ear, stroking his abdomen, smearing the thick red over the pale skin, "My, but that is naughty, isn’t it? He leaves you alone for one month, and you let someone else screw you?"
Harry felt the hand reach down between his legs and squeeze roughly. He found himself struggling weakly, shifting to one side only to have the hand tighten further, "Please, don’t, please..."
"But you’ve been bad." Lucius slid two fingers under him and shoved them in, pulling out the moment Harry began forcing his muscles to relax around the digits. He gave a small cry of pain as Lucius backhanded him across the face. More tears worked down his cheek, coming faster. "Stay tense! It’s not a punishment if it doesn’t hurt."
Concentrating on keeping the muscles rigid, he turned his head away as Lucius gripped the back of his knee and forced his leg to fold against his chest. A hand stroked his cheek as the man positioned himself, though he did not enter immediately, waiting until Harry turning a questioning gaze before slam in, past the now fervently resisting muscles.
Harry arched his back, trying to get away, trying to relax, trying to do anything to lessen the pain. Lucius gripped his face hard, leaning in and kissing him roughly, "Did Severus feel good, pet? Did you like having him inside you?" Pulling out slowly, he slammed back in hard and fast, stopping to savor the pained noises and whimpers working from the back of Harry’s throat, "Did he suck you off?"
A spark of defiance gleamed in Harry’s eyes and he sneered up at Lucius, knowing it would only hurt more, but somehow he didn’t care, "No, but your son did."
Lucius stopped moving, his face reflected horror at the thought of his son having touched his master’s pet without permission. Horror at the kind of punishment that would entail. Harry took the opportunity, the moment of distraction, and brought his free hand up like a claw across Lucius face and heaving up at the same time, trying to dislodge himself. It wouldn’t do any good, it would only be a moment of respite before he was brought back to bay, but he savored it. Lucius pulled back, holding his face and staring at the boy on the bed in utter shock.
He had never fought back. Harry had always been pliant. Of course, he’d never been outright raped before, he’d never cried so violently during sex. Harry had backed himself against the head board, knees drawn to his chest, free arm wrapped protectively around them.
Scowling at him, Lucius snaked an arm out and grabbed his ankle. Harry kicked once, but his other foot was caught as well, and he was pulled back into position, "No! Let go!"
Lifting both the boy’s legs onto his shoulders this time, Lucius forced himself back in, slowly, waiting for the cries and choking sobs to slow before leaning down, and putting his mouth next to Harry’s, "You won’t tell Voldemort, or next time I get a turn with you, I’ll use an engorgement charm that’ll make you feel like your eight years old again, only this time I won’t hold back." He waited patiently for Harry to nod and began fucking him hard and fast, holding his free hand to the bed in a vice like grip to ensure no more slip ups.
When he spilled the last of his seed inside Harry, he fell limp against the boy, breathing in his sweat for a few moments before picking himself up. Harry watched Lucius leave the room and turned over onto his side, curling into a ball and choking down his tears.
There had been times before, when Master promised to punish him, or hurt him, but he’d always stopped it before it got bad. Sometimes he’d wait outside the door after he cuffed Harry to the bed, leaving him for only a few minutes before letting him go. He’d wanted to believe, while Malfoy fucked him, that at any moment Master would burst in and tell him to stop, that he would wrap Harry up under the blankets and tell him to go to sleep, that he’d learned his lesson.
But Master hadn’t come, and he realized he didn’t want him to. He couldn’t want the man that had let that happen to come. The thought of seeing Master again made him shake. He didn’t want Master, he wanted Severus. Fresh tears rolled down his cheek and curled up tighter, closing his eyes. He wanted Severus.
-tbc-