Genre: Dark!fic, Drama, Smut
Warnings: Dub Con, Smut, Fisting, Mpreg, Dark!Harry, Angst, BDSM, Violence, Adult Language
Summary: A Dark!fic. Harry is now a supporter of Voldemort. Sort of. And a power struggle begins. How does Draco get mixed up in it? How does he become pregnant? How does Harry achieve his freedom and thus immortality? Does he? Read and find out.
JK Rowling owns everything, if she wants the credit for this story she can take it, I'd be honoured. Otherwise I’m not making any money from this. They belong to her, I just like to make them do naughty things.
A/N- Hi I'm not sure whether there’s a place out there for this story but I hope there is, there will be sexual situations between our boys and others if this makes you angry or, well, if you don’t want to read it, don't. I wont mind. Promise. It also contains strong sexual situations, Mpreg and a very Dark!Harry. If that’s your bag, take it!
Also, a big thanks to my wonderful beta
When Harry finally reached his destination, the inner courtyard of the ancient Manor, he sat on the lone bench pushed up against the wall of the narrow patio. He inhaled the sweet but dangerous scent of the noxious vines which covered the surrounding walls. It was a fitting smell. One which Harry wished could flow through the entire building. It would serve as a good reminder to never let his guard down. No matter how enticing or beautiful something appeared around here, it wasn’t to be trusted.
He had known that Voldemort would eventually require a solid commitment or pledge. Those with power and positions of authority always did. Even Dumbledore had required a pact from him. ‘A Gryffindor’s word was as good as gold’ was a favourite claim of the Order’s. Harry didn’t understand their mentality; Pettigrew had turned traitor. He had been a Gryffindor too.
He remembered being so angry when Dumbledore had asked for the commitment. How could he, the Golden Boy, be doubted? But in the end, it had been another expectation he couldn’t bring himself to defy. It had taken Blaise’s arrival to make him stand up for himself.
Blaise; there was a can of worms he shouldn’t be opening. He didn’t often allow himself to think of that time. Those days had been some of the happiest he could remember. Blaise had been his support system, something he no longer required. Harry remembered the day he had arrived, trailing behind Snape and followed by six large trunks, cheeks flushed and full of nervous energy. There had been no uproar from any of the order members. Dumbledore had already screened and approved him, and Dumbledore’s word was law.
Blaise had slipped into the fold seamlessly. His charming personality and good looks certainly helped, but it was his strategic thinking that won him trust and affection. Harry had spent many nights with him, going over and over lists of locations and names. It was one of these evenings when Dumbledore had approached him, making some particularly gruelling demand of Harry. After he had left, Harry had tried to once again submerge himself in his work, but Blaise had asked a question that would change Harry’s life forever.
“Why do you do it?” Harry couldn’t escape from the penetrating stare that Blaise had pinned him with.
“Do what?” He tried to appear nonchalant.
“Everything he wants? You never question him; not even in your head.”
“Why should I? He’s Dumbledore. He knows what he’s doing.”
Blaise scoffed. “What a load of shit! He’s one man Harry, mortal, fallible. He asks so much of you. Sometimes I think he asks too much.”
“No one’s asking what you think, are they, Zabini? Mind your own business.”
With that, Harry had stormed off to his room.
By that time, he had his own room; away from Ron’s snoring and constant presence. He lay on his bed; on top of his sheets, trying desperately not to think about what Blaise had told him, and to not feel so guilty for getting angry and defensive. It was only ten minutes later that he heard the soft knock at his door. He rose from his bed to open it, finding Blaise waiting with a bottle of Firewhisky. Blaise had pushed his way through and seated himself, legs crossed, at the foot of Harry’s bed.
Harry had shrugged and moved to join him as Blaise opened the bottle and took a swig. Once he was seated against the pillows, Blaise handed him the whisky. They had been sitting there for almost half an hour, silent, as Harry had worked up the courage to speak.
“I can’t stand to disappoint them. They brought me here, you know? I owe them so much.”
The Harry sitting in the dark, sweet smelling courtyard laughed at his naivety. How much had changed since that night? He was a completely different person now, and Blaise? Well.
The night had progressed and the bottle began to empty. Blaise worked at needling self worth and ambition into Harry, opening his eyes properly to the level of manipulation that surrounded him. Then to what he could do to change that; how to become his own man. It had been about in the morning when the whisky was finished and the topic of conversation altered slightly.
Harry’s recollections of the night were somewhat hazy; somehow they had begun to talk about previous relationships; then sexual experiences. Harry remembered how his cheeks had warmed as Blaise had confessed his sexuality, going on to tell Harry just who in Slytherin house was slightly questionable, and how far he had gone with whom. Harry had been shocked by how open Blaise was about it all, even when inebriated.
Eventually Blaise wheedled out of him the dreams he had had of Oliver Wood. The next thing Harry could remember was pinning Blaise to the mattress as he worked on undoing the slightly smaller boy’s fly. There was a lot of awkward fumbling and teeth smashing against teeth. But it had been the most turned on Harry had ever been. This was so much better then sex with Ginny, Lavender or that one time with Hermione.
Even now Harry, shuddered at the thought of their drunken tryst. He wondered if Ron knew yet.
When Harry had come, he felt as if an extremely large weight had been lifted from him. Blaise had tried to leave back to his own rooms; claiming people would be suspicious. But Harry hadn’t let him. Instead he had dragged Blaise back to bed and curled around him, falling into one of the deepest and most peaceful sleeps he had ever had.
Harry scowled at the memory. Refusing himself any further reminiscing, he sat there staring at the wall in front of him, losing track of time.
That was how Draco found him, his stroll having eventually led him here, the centralmost courtyard of the manor. He leant against the solid stone wall of the entry archway.
“Potter,” He said in greeting.
“Malfoy,” Was the reply he received. Harry didn’t turn around.
Draco couldn’t deal with this now. He still needed to think; an angry Potter was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Not that Potter wasn’t angry all the time these days.
“As you wish.” Draco turned to leave.
“Why the fuck are you doing it?” Harry cursed himself. He just wanted Malfoy to leave; he didn’t want his own stupid curiosity getting in the way.
“Duty.” Draco’s back was still turned to Harry.
There was a loaded silence before Harry replied, “Someone once told me that I had to be my own man. That I had to stop letting expectations rule my life.”
“Yeah? Look where that got you Potter.”
“FUCK YOU!” Harry leapt from the bench to grab Draco by the shoulder and spun him around roughly.
“Don’t worry, only two weeks to wait. Surely even you can control yourself that long.” With that, Draco pulled away from Harry’s harsh grip and left.
Harry stood fuming under the arch, forcing himself to remain still as every fibre of his being ached to chase after Malfoy and kick his arrogant face in. Once he had calmed down enough and had full control of his emotions and body, Harry slowly made his way back to his rooms, not hearing the shuffling as he passed a usually vacant room where Draco sat huddled in a corner, wiping savagely at the tears which attempted to cascade down his face.
Draco was disgusted with himself. Sitting in the dark crying like a girl. He refused to acknowledge that in just two weeks he might as well be one. This was his duty. If he managed this, he would earn the respect of the Dark Lord's inner circle. He had been trained in spying since he was a child. That was what this was; just a mission. He would be spying on Potter for the Dark Lord. Not only would he be spying, he would also be utilising his diplomatic skills in an alternative fashion. He could deal with that; he was a spy and a diplomat. Both of these jobs were highly credible. Fucking Potter was just a sacrifice he would have to make to get the job done.
Harry and Draco didn’t cross paths for the next week. Harry had been out on missions, attempting to catch a glimpse of any Order members he recognised. This had been the pattern for months now, and was why Voldemort felt the need to enhance the level of control he had over Harry. He needed the source of distraction uprooted and had decided Draco was the person to do it.
Draco had been spending his days locked inside with his mother. Moving from the dining room to the sitting room, learning everything that would be required of him as Harry’s consort. His mother had not spoken of his tantrum once, and Draco was extremely thankful for it. He had accepted his fate and was putting that one drunken night behind him. He concentrated on learning how to set tables and the social niceties to which he was expected to conform. His mother was also yet to mention the bedroom, though he knew it would be brought up shortly. It wasn’t something he could escape from.
And so when Draco was lead by his mother into a large guest bedroom, he was prepared.
“Now the bedchamber. This is the room you will be doing your most important work in. So it is important you learn to manipulate him in these surroundings. As I have said before, you will be the submissive partner. Do not try to control anything until you are comfortable with each other. Any sign of dominance too early could lead to problems that will span the length of your marriage. You need him to be comfortable with you, to trust you so that you can bend his ear.”
As Narcissa spoke, she made her way toward a mirrored wall. She slid apart two large panels, exposing a large built in wardrobe. “It will also be your responsibility to make sure that the house elves are up-to-date with his attire. Mostly it will be you who decides his clothing choices.” She wandered around the room explaining intricate details of managing one's husband, letting Draco in on secrets of manipulation and the like.
An hour passed, and she still hadn’t mentioned sex. Draco was getting more and more agitated by the minute. It took a lot of effort to keep the humiliation at bay. Finally Narcissa moved to sit on the bed.
“Now Draco. I’m not sure how extensive your knowledge of coital relations is. Especially between two men. So I will try to cover everything.” She was so direct and business like that Draco’s embarrassment remained manageable.
“Now, to start with foreplay. It is your responsibility to stimulate your husband. There are many ways to ensure he achieves an erection. To save us both the embarrassment of going into detail, I want you to take this.” She reached into her robes and removed a slim leather bound book.
“My mother gave this to me when I turned sixteen, to ensure that I would make the best possible wife. Now I am giving it to you. It will sense your sex and rearrange itself accordingly. It tells you what, where and how to touch. What to put where, how to put it there, etcetera. I have also taken the liberty of acquiring some tools to help you become accustomed. You can use them or not, though I strongly suggest you do. It will make things simpler and less painful. However, you are not to anally penetrate yourself with anything large. You must keep that orifice mostly virginal. He will be able to tell if you don’t.” Narcissa was so cold about it, continuing on while Draco sat frozen in an attempt to retain some dignity.
She rose and walked to the door. “I have secured this room for your use until your wedding. Take this opportunity to practice. Everything you will need is in the bedside table. We will wait to discuss pregnancy until terms of union are established. That meeting is tomorrow, so don’t stay up too late. I shall have the house elves bring you supper. We cannot chance a run in with Potter as you have now entered the proprietary week. You should be familiar enough with the custom to know that any contact between you and your future spouse must be chaperoned. Goodnight.”
Draco remained still for long minutes after hearing his mother’s footsteps taper off. Eventually forcing himself to move toward the nightstand, he opened the drawer wide to find a selection of dildos, magical vibrators, lubricants and other things he couldn’t name. After exploring the erotic aides, he lay back among the pillows and opened his mother’s book, calmly waiting as words and pictures rearranged themselves for him. Once the ink stilled, he settled in and began to read.
A/N This isn’t one of my favourite chapters but it was needed to further the plot. The wedding will be next chapter though I haven’t decided whether the wedding night will be included. Please tell me what you think.
- Current Mood: blah