Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Possess me ❯ Chapter three ( Chapter 3 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Ciiah-chan 
Harry is desperately pondering... what about this new state of mind? Does he really hate it that much? And is Draco really such a prick?
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.11.2007 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.3K | Visits: 1.3K | Status: Work In Progress
Harry is desperately pondering... what about this new state of mind? Does he really hate it that much? And is Draco really such a prick?
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.11.2007 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.3K | Visits: 1.3K | Status: Work In Progress
I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters.
I do, however, own the plot of this fic and any character who might be involved that is not in the books of JK Rowling.
Warnings; yaoi (rather hardcore), Dark Harry, foul language and random ooc-ness.
Chapter three.
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I can't believe this is happening...
Harry stared at the rain stained window as he lay in his bed, refusing to get up, or even move. Ron had left Hogwarts for the weekend, since Charlie had returned to the burrow, and they were going to celebrate his birthday. Harry had declined, even though both Ron and the kind Mrs Weasley had asked him several times to attend the party. Harry just couldn't face them. He couldn't face the kindest family he knew, the family he loved the most. Because Harry wasn't like them any more. And he hated it.
Harry had of course never been one of them. He had always been 'the boy who lived', a celebrity, marked by the Dark Lord himself. But they had always been on the same side... the light. The good guys. The ones who fought for the sake of the innocent. And Harry had actually been the 'main character' of the whole thing. But now?
Just thinking of the Dark Lord caused shivers of pleasure to crawl up his spine. Unwillingly, Harry sighed in delight as he thought of the previous night, before he, for the third time that day, caught himself playing with the thought of touching himself.
Harry whimpered and buried his face in his pillow, averting his gaze from the grey sky. He was so frustrated for several reasons. Harry was disgusted with himself. He was lusting after the very thing he should detest. He was lusting after a man. Harry Potter was lusting after Lord Voldemort. It was so ironic Harry would've laughed, if he wasn't so miserable.
"How could this happen?" Harry whispered to himself, feeling the tears burn behind his eyelids. "I'm seriously sick."
He groaned, choked back an angry sob and finally threw his blankets off, revealing his naked body. The cool air made him shiver as he stood up from the bed. He opened his school trunk and grabbed a pair of underwear and quickly slipped them over his lean hips. He then dressed in a large pair of grey sweatpants, a gift from his huge cousin, and a black t-shirt; a birthday gift from Hermione. He ignored his glasses, since he didn't have to study anyways, and yawned as he brought a hand to his head and rubbed his temple a little to sooth the growing headache.
He shivered again and grabbed a black, soft jacket to keep himself warm as he entered the common room. It was empty, save for Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, calmly chatting away and occasionally giggling. Harry greeted them with a small smile, making them giggle again, and he surprised a sigh of annoyance. He then exited the room and headed for the library. There were very few students left at Hogwarts, not only because Harry knew that some of the students had been transferred to other schools, due to Harry's "insanity". But also because it was the first Hogsmeade weekend and almost every student had went to visit the magic little village.
Harry enjoyed loneliness and entered the library. Immediately his gaze fell on the book of Vampires, Demons and Other Creatures of the Dark again. Harry swallowed hard and stiffly walked towards the book. It was lying at the very same spot he had left it the day before. It lay on the table, seemingly gleaming in the pale light. The rain was drumming faintly against the window.
Finally Harry's curiosity took over and he sighed in defeat as he sat down and slowly opened the book again. He skipped the pages involving werewolves and different kinds of demons until he got to the chapter describing vampires. Harry could feel his breath quicken in excitement as he once again stared into the handsome face of Dracula's son. He faintly wondered if he was alive somewhere. If so, Harry would almost like to meet him. Harry didn't even bother to curse himself for thinking such dark thoughts; they wouldn't cease to exist just because Harry tried to ignore them.
Harry could feel the corners of his lips slowly crawl upwards and quickly scowled. Damnit... He was smirking again. Harry cleared his throat and tried to look stoic, since he felt like a maniac sitting and smirking to himself. He was really losing his mind, wasn't he? Harry bit back a small chuckle of amusement due to his own thoughts and averted his gaze to the book again. He started to read, hungrily and eagerly to learn more about the fascinating creatures. It was as if he couldn't get enough of them. Harry felt somewhat embarrassed about it. He found himself, more than once, smiling at the dark, moving pictures of vampires. There were female vampires, stunningly beautiful and Harry envied them for their grace and elegance. And of course there were males, who made Harry almost blush. Gorgeous males, coldly smirking at Harry, as their narrowed, dark eyes slowly blinked.
Harry cleared his throat, ignoring his burning blush that adorned his cheeks after staring at pictures of incredibly hot vampires for more than an hour. It wasn't until Harry started to feel a faint, pulsating feeling in his groin that he felt disgusted with himself again. Annoyed he slammed the book shut, retreating to the same state of mind he had been during the morning. Harry sent the book a hateful look that held a faint trace of longing. Then he turned his back to the book and exited the library, having the same feeling you get after writing in a diary; relieved and almost happy. But the feelings were mixed with frustrated feelings of self-loathing.
Deciding he needed air, Harry walked to the huge Quidditch field, not surprised to find it empty. The air was crisp and chilly and Harry took a deep breath, feeling lightheaded and energized. He regretted not bringing his broomstick. It was still raining a little, but Harry enjoyed the cold weather in a new way. He smiled and averted his gaze to the dark grey sky. Was there going to be thunder? Great.
"Harry? What are you doing?" Harry stiffened and turned around, facing a soaking wet Hermione. She stared at him, slightly scowling. "You're going to catch a cold."
Harry rubbed the back of his head, feeling extremely embarrassed about his previous behavior; staring up into the grey sky, smiling like a mad man.
"What are you doing here, Hermione? Aren't you supposed to be in Hogsmeade?" He murmured, trying to force the embarrassed blush to go away. Hermione sighed and gestured to her clothes.
"I was in Hogsmeade, but it started raining, as I'm sure you've noticed, and we all got soaking wet. Most of the students stayed at Hogsmeade though. I came back here because I don't want to get sick. We have a test in potions next week, you know."
Hermione pursed her lips and sniffed a little, obviously already getting too cold. Harry nodded.
"I know. You should get inside, Hermione. You're getting cold." He said while turning his back on her. "I want to stay for a while. The air feels really nice." he turned to the brown-haired girl again. Hermione gave him a stubborn look.
"You're coming with me," said Hermione. "I'm telling you, Harry, you are going to get sick."
Harry could feel his emotions stir again. Hermione was once again acting as if Harry couldn't take care of himself. He gave her an icy glare. Hermione looked slightly taken aback.
"Look, I wanna stay out here. You got a problem with that?"
Hermione stared at Harry and slowly shook her head. She looked almost frightened. And Harry... hated himself. Hated himself for enjoying that look on her face. He felt a strange kind of satisfaction by looking at her face. He was finally getting the respect he wanted, the respect he demanded. Hermione visibly swallowed and took a step back. That's when Harry realized what he was doing. He immediately regretted acting so cold towards Hermione. The girl averted her gaze to the dark green grass.
"You've... changed, Harry," Hermione murmured. "I don't know what it is, but you seem different."
Harry took a step towards the now shivering girl. Hermione looked almost as if she wanted to run away, so Harry didn't walk all the way to her.
"I'm sorry, Hermione... I'm just... really tired. That's all." He knew it was a lame explanation. But what was he supposed to say? A part of him still enjoyed the sight of Hermione, carefully meeting his gaze, while shivering in the cold rain. She gave him a small smile and nodded. Harry could see she was still worried.
"Well... I'm going to go inside. You sure you don't want to come with? I could help you study for the potions test-"
"Hermione..." Harry gave her a semi-glare, making it clear that he didn't want to come with her. Hermione shut up and gave him a nervous smile before running off. Harry sighed, once again feeling ashamed of himself for acting so cold. "What's with me?" He murmured and sat down on a bench.
"Looks to me like you're simply getting sick of her."
Harry jumped and turned around with a pounding heart, facing none other than Draco Malfoy, nonchalantly leaning against the wall. The pale boy smirked a little at Harry and gestured for him to come closer. For reasons Harry didn't want to ponder over, he got up from the bench and walked to Draco, glaring slightly to his archenemy. A small roof prevented the rain from soaking Harry further, and even though he had kind of enjoyed the wet, cold feeling against his skin, it was a relief. His vision was slightly blurry, since he wasn’t wearing his glasses. Draco stared at Harry for about two seconds before turning away again. This wiped Harry's glare off of his face. Draco didn't have his usual proud, cocky look on his face. Harry could see it, despite his blurry vision.
Draco looked kinda bored, and relaxed. As if the blonde also enjoyed the solitude.
"About time you realize just what a pain that girl is," the Malfoy said calmly, not even a hint of his usual cruelness in his voice. He was simply stating fact. Harry stared at Draco and almost forgot to defend his friend.
"Don't talk about Hermione like that, you bastard," he murmured and mentally cursed when the comment came out silent and rather uncaring. As if Harry was speaking out of pure loyalty. Or rather as if Harry was speaking out of old habit. Draco seemed to notice this as well, and he snorted amused.
"Don't try to deny it, golden boy," Draco laughed a little and stuck his hand inside his pocket to bring a small box out of it. "It's written all over your face. Every time you hang out with those... buddies of yours, you look kinda... miserable," Draco chuckled slightly.
Harry's eyes went wide as they saw exactly what kind of box Draco was holding.
"Muggle cigarettes?" He asked, bemused that Draco would use something like that. Didn't the Malfoys despise muggles? Draco nodded and brought a long, thin cigarette to his mouth. He lit the end with his wand and inhaled deeply. Harry could see just how much Draco enjoyed it. The blonde's entire body seemed to relax as the smoke invaded his lounges. Draco closed his eyes and let the smoke out through his mouth and nose. It made Harry... almost jealous to watch the blonde smoke with such elegance.
"Yeah, well... It's like my dad says, 'Muggles are scum, but they sure know how to make good cigarettes.'" Draco smirked and took another deep breath from the white stick in his mouth. Harry laughed at the joke, before he slapped his hand over his mouth and stared at the ground. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't think such a low joke was funny, did he? Still, a dark chuckle fought to escape Harry's throat, and Harry had to bite his lip to prevent the laughter. Draco stared at him.
"I hate to agree with the mudblood, Potter, but you do seem to have... changed."
Harry sighed and gazed at the field again. He felt weird. As if Draco's words actually made him feel content. Harry could feel it also. He had started to change... All of a sudden he enjoyed reading about vampires more than anything, he had erotic fantasies about a certain Dark Lord, and he laughed at a cruel muggle-joke, told by a Slytherin. This was not Harry Potter's usual behavior. But... maybe this was better?
Even though Harry was ashamed of the perverted dreams he had, and the fact that he had secretly begun to hope that they would return the next time he went to bed, Harry didn't really suffer from his new state of mind. In fact... he somewhat enjoyed it. He still fought against it, but somewhere in his mind, he had definitely started to enjoy it.
Harry didn't reply to Draco's comment, and the boys were silent for a few minutes before Harry spoke.
"Your father allows you to smoke?" Harry realized what a childish question it was, but it was too late to do anything about it, and he did want to know. Draco chuckled.
"My father isn't here now, is he?" Draco said smugly and inhaled again, before letting the smoke pour out of his mouth. Harry could smell the strong scent of cigarette smoke, and he almost found it pleasant. He smiled back at Draco before he could stop himself. Draco smirked wider and took out another cigarette and held it out for Harry. Harry stared at it, feeling tempted, but trying to stay rational.
"I-I don't smoke," he murmured, blushing, once again feeling like a child. Draco hummed and pursed his lips; an expression Harry had never seen on Draco before. It made the blonde look almost... cute. Draco didn't take the cigarette back.
"Then, do you want to try?"
Ah, the standard question before one would make the biggest mistake of his life. Harry stared at the cigarette and suddenly a question popped into his mind; "Why not?"
Why shouldn't he get to make his own decisions? He had been through hell, and still people treated him like some kind of tool. And these days Dumbledore wouldn't even look at him. A spark of anger once again heated up Harry's chest and he took the cigarette from Draco and brought it to his mouth. He felt somewhat like a stupid rebel, but it still felt good to make a choice of his own. No one could see him. It was pleasantly... sinful. He was hanging out with Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin and the son of Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand.
Harry nervously lit the cigarette and inhaled slowly, knowing full well that he would cough if he didn't do it carefully. He managed to get through the first inhale with only a small cough and quickly inhaled again, as he started to feel relaxed. Draco smiled.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
Harry nodded and smirked.
"So where's your little crew, Malfoy? I had the impression that you couldn't leave your dorm without your gorillas being at your side," Harry chuckled a little and Draco glared at him.
"Don't even mention it," the blonde groaned and once again took a breath from his cigarette. "They're in Hogsmeade, probably looking for me. I kinda escaped from them. This is the only way I can be alone for a while."
Harry nodded, still chuckling.
"I know the feeling. What about your girlfriend? What's her name again? Pansy?"
Draco laughed out loud at this and leaned against the wall. Harry stared at the blonde as he caught his breath.
"Pansy..." Draco laughed. Harry found his laughter quite pleasant. It wasn't high and cheerful, like Ron and Hermione's... it was darker, and held some kind of heavy feeling to it. A dry laughter, Harry realized. That's what it was. "Pansy is living in a dream world. She's not my girlfriend, nor is she ever going to be. But she likes to hang around me and touch me in public so that everyone will think I'm hers."
The blonde continued to chuckle at this, as if he found it incredibly amusing and Harry frowned.
"Um... mind me asking, but why do you let her do it? I mean... she's not exactly the prettiest girl in town. You could do better," Harry said, realizing too late what he had said. He blushed a little and tried to hide this fact by taking another deep inhale of the cigarette that started to feel better with each time. Draco stared at Harry for a second before replying.
"Well, actually she helps me without knowing it. I wasn't planning on telling anyone, but since you're obviously the same..." Draco trailed off, seemingly ashamed of what he was going to say. Harry stared at the Slytherin boy. 'The same'? What did Draco mean?
Finally Draco took a deep breath and started to talk.
"You know who Blaise Zabini is, right?" Harry nodded, remembering the good-looking dark boy in Draco's class. "Well... he and I are... kinda... like..." Draco trailed off again, but Harry's pulse began to run. He started to realize what Draco was going to say. He took a shaky inhale from his cigarette, waiting for the blonde to finish. "We're together," Draco finally said, obviously embarrassed. "And if you tell anyone I'll kill you myself," he muttered and turned away from Harry.
Harry stared at Draco.
"You're gay?" He asked, completely shocked. He hadn't noticed... not even once, during the four years of going to the same school as Draco, that the pale boy might be a tad different from himself. Only Harry now realized that they were the same. Draco sighed.
"Does that shock you? Disgust you? I don't even know why I'm telling you this, Potter!" Now he sounded frustrated and even confused. "We're not even friends! I haven't told any of my friends... the only ones who know about me and Blaise are me and Blaise. God... what is with you, Potter?" Draco said, making it sound as if it was all Harry's fault. Strangely enough Harry sighed, and even felt annoyed after hearing Draco say 'we're not friends'. He leaned his back against the wall.
"I won't tell anyone. It's like you said... we're the same."
Silence. A few minutes went on, none of them speaking. Draco had started to smoke a second cigarette and Harry was content just to smell the smoke coming from the blonde.
"Hey Potter... If you find them so annoying, why do you still hang out with Miss mudblood and the weasel?"
Harry didn't even tell Draco to shut up about his friends, but merely sighed.
"I dunno. Why do you hang out with Crabbe and Goyle?"
Draco shrugged and gave a small chuckle.
"We're obviously more alike than I thought, Potter. If you ever feel like ditching your little Gryffindor pals, feel free to pay me a visit." Harry stared at the pale boy as he turned to face Harry and gave a slight smirk. "I'm sure you would enjoy my company a bit more than theirs. As sure as I am that I would enjoy your company a lot more than Crabbe and Goyle's."
Harry scoffed, amused and worried.... and confused. Draco's offer seemed great, yet at the same time Harry knew that he shouldn't think it was great because he was a Gryffindor and Gryffindors and Slyhterins were enemies and Harry was supposed to defeat Lord Voldemort, not befriend him and certainly not have erotic fantasies about said dark lord. Harry sighed.
"I should go..." He murmured and turned his back to Draco. "I'll see you around. Thanks for the cigarette." He started to walk, feeling the rain hit his cheeks.
"Don't mention it, and Potter..." Harry turned around and faced Draco. The Slytherin boy smirked. "You look good without glasses."
Harry could feel his cheeks heat up and he quickly turned back, refusing to face Draco any more. He could hear the dark chuckle from the Slytherin as he made his way over the field and into the large castle. He just wanted to sleep now. Sleep and think things over. Just as he was starting to run up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower a strong hand came around his shoulder. Before Harry knew it, he was facing Severus Snape.
The potions master ogled Harry's wet clothes for a second before letting go of Harry's shoulder.
"How are you feeling, Potter?" Snape asked, sounding like a robot. His jaw was as stiff as ever and his black eyes cold and unemotional. It was quite clear that Snape wasn't really concerned about Harry's well being. Harry just shrugged.
"I'm fine sir. Why do you ask?"
Snape gave him a cold look before answering.
"You seem to have... changed over the summer, Potter. Anything I should know about?"
Harry stiffly shook his head and slowly started to back away. Snape followed, until Harry's back finally hit the wall and made him feel somewhat trapped. Snape gave an unpleasant smirk.
"Really now? Then maybe you can explain this?" Snape said and held up a paper that Harry soon recognized. It was the paper that Harry had used during his detention. Harry felt like he was suddenly dipped in ice cold water. At the end of the paper was the small sentence that Harry had prayed Snape wouldn't notice.
You don't know anything yet, Harry Potter. You know nothing.
The words seemed to smirk at him, almost mock him. Harry stared at the sentences and shuddered. He hadn't written them himself. Someone else must've...
"I-I... I just wrote them... I don't know why..." Harry stuttered, wanting nothing more than to go to bed, even though it wasn't even afternoon yet. Snape held a tight grip on his shoulder and leaned in, making Harry shudder in disgust about having the man so close.
"Tell me the truth!" Snape hissed in Harry's ear and tried to make eye contact with him, for reasons Harry didn't want to think about.
"I don't know!" Harry winced and tried to yank free but then...
Ah... the soothing darkness was around them again as Harry clung to the man that caressed his body so gently, yet so harshly it made Harry shake with pleasure. "P-please!" He begged and spread his legs wider as he felt the man thrust his hips against his and Harry moaned. "Please... what?" the man whispered hotly in Harry’s ear. Harry whimpered. "F-fuck me..!"
Harry gasped and slumped against the wall in exhaustion. He hadn't had an erotic image the entire day, and this one was so strong. Harry's body was already pulsating with need, practically ordering Harry to run to his bed and jerk off before he went insane. But unfortunately for him, Snape was still there.
"Potter? What is wrong with you?"
Harry slumped down the wall, praying to all the gods he knew that Snape wouldn't notice his straining arousal and brought his knees up to his chin.
"I-Im fine," he panted and turned his face away. "I'm really tired, sir. I would like to go to bed."
Snape didn't back off, and this somehow triggered something inside of Harry. Suddenly he felt an outrageous anger towards Snape. Irrationally, he felt like he had been betrayed by the black-haired man. And when Harry finally met Snape's gaze, his eyes were filled with hateful anger, making Snape back off a little, looking slightly shocked.
"Potter-"
Harry growled and yanked free from Snape's grasp. He quickly escaped from his potions teacher.
"Don't fucking touch me!" He hissed to the man as he ran passed him, up to the Gryffindor tower. His body was practically shaking with fury, and the arousal was still there, beginning to hurt as it strained to be set free from the layers of clothing. Harry positioned himself on the bed just like the previous day, and pulled the curtains, even though he knew it was unnecessary. Ron wasn't coming home until the next day and the others were still in Hogsmeade.
Harry removed his pants and underwear and started to stroke himself, still feeling angry. Harry didn't understand why though. It was as if it wasn't really his feelings. More like he was feeling someone else's emotions.
"That scum is not allowed to touch you, Harry," the voice whispered and Harry immediately moaned with pleasure at knowing that the man was there again, probably watching his every move. He removed his shirt and began caressing his nipples, making them stiffen.
"I... I won't let him... do it again!" Harry panted and bent forward, kneeling on the bed, and burying half of his face into his pillow. His stroking quickened.
"You are such a good boy." the voice chuckled and Harry blushed as he could feel the man's gaze upon him. He turned on his back and spread his legs wide as if inviting the man to participate. A jolt of longing shot through his body, and Harry wasn't sure whether it was his own longing or if it was the man's feeling that went through him. Harry gasped with pleasure and started thrusting his hips against his curled hand.
"I want... you to...ah!" Harry had stopped himself for a few seconds to prevent himself from cumming too fast and tried to catch his breath. He stared out into nothingness, not sure where exactly the man was. "I-I want you to touch me." Harry murmured, feeling both embarrassed and aroused by his own words. The voice gave a sighed chuckle and for a moment, Harry could've sworn he felt a pair of hands grace his hips.
"There is a way... but it is only possible because of what I am. And it is complicated."
"But I-" Harry started but was interrupted by the same feeling of invisible hands touching him. He threw his head back and sighed with delight as the hands grazed his inner thighs.
"I will send Nagini to you. She'll bring you a letter and tell you everything you need to know, but for now... just enjoy this, Harry. It is because of your own imagination that I can perform this illusion. I am not really touching you. But because you want it so bad, I can trick your brain into believing that I do."
Harry whimpered and thrust his hips, urging the invisible hand to touch him in more intimate places than just his thighs. When the hands wouldn't obey, Harry growled and took a hold of his own member, pumping it furiously, still enjoying the feeling of hands on his thighs as he jerked himself off. Harry started to pant and moan and writhe on the bed as he was completely lost, drunk on his own pleasure. His back arched and he gasped loudly as his thumb grazed the slit and the entire member seemed to quiver from the touch. Harry opened his tightly shut eyes and stared down at himself, blushing madly. He watched in bewilderment as the pre-cum soaked his fingers, making them slippery.
Harry moaned deeply as the hands moved to his chest, gracing his abs and nipples which were already stiff and red. Harry started to see white.
"I'm going to... shit! I-I'm-"
Harry let out a hoarse yell and pumped himself madly as he spilled himself onto the bed. His body stiffened and he was arching off of the bed. The orgasm lasted for almost a minute of maddening pleasure and when it was over, Harry's body was shaking too much for him to move. He had never had such an intense orgasm in his life. He stared at the spot of cum on his covers, too lazy to clean it up right away. He let his damp hands grace his stomach and his chest, simply enjoying the feeling. The hands were gone, but he could still sense the gaze on him.
"Where are you?" Harry asked with a weak voice.
"I'm here," was the only reply Harry got, and he was content. Suddenly feeling incredibly tired, since he hadn't gotten very much sleep the previous night for obvious reasons, Harry did a quick cleansing spell and crawled under in blankets, soon fast asleep. For the first time in quite a while, 'The boy who lived' fell asleep with a content smile adorning his lips. Sighing tiredly as he snuggled against his pillows, pretending it was something else.
tbc
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That’s the end of the third chapter. Yes, I know... sorry for writing so much about cigarettes, but I just can't help it. I find it extremely sexy to smoke, and I hope you're all okay with it. This was the "Harry starts smoking"-chapter, and from now on, I will only mention it sometimes in the texts. But I actually think it's important to write about how Harry feels when he starts smoking. The rebellious feelings he has and how good it feels to smoke. It's a relevant part of who Harry is becoming. Because I'm sure you've noticed that Harry has changed now. ^^ And from now on, he will mostly like his new self.
And yes, I know that Draco is a bit ooc, but I really like him, and I don't like JK Rowling's version of Draco Malfoy (who is a bit pathetic in the books), so I made him a little cooler (according to me).
Next chapter; Harry starts longing for the hands of Voldemort on his body and when the snake Nagini finally shows up, he's really excited. But Harry soon realizes just how difficult it is going to get, and also that Lord Voldemort is more than he appears to be. Luckily for Harry, Draco isn't such a bastard as everyone thinks. And Harry will also get to meet Blaise, who knows more about Harry's destiny than Harry himself.
I do, however, own the plot of this fic and any character who might be involved that is not in the books of JK Rowling.
Warnings; yaoi (rather hardcore), Dark Harry, foul language and random ooc-ness.
Chapter three.
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I can't believe this is happening...
Harry stared at the rain stained window as he lay in his bed, refusing to get up, or even move. Ron had left Hogwarts for the weekend, since Charlie had returned to the burrow, and they were going to celebrate his birthday. Harry had declined, even though both Ron and the kind Mrs Weasley had asked him several times to attend the party. Harry just couldn't face them. He couldn't face the kindest family he knew, the family he loved the most. Because Harry wasn't like them any more. And he hated it.
Harry had of course never been one of them. He had always been 'the boy who lived', a celebrity, marked by the Dark Lord himself. But they had always been on the same side... the light. The good guys. The ones who fought for the sake of the innocent. And Harry had actually been the 'main character' of the whole thing. But now?
Just thinking of the Dark Lord caused shivers of pleasure to crawl up his spine. Unwillingly, Harry sighed in delight as he thought of the previous night, before he, for the third time that day, caught himself playing with the thought of touching himself.
Harry whimpered and buried his face in his pillow, averting his gaze from the grey sky. He was so frustrated for several reasons. Harry was disgusted with himself. He was lusting after the very thing he should detest. He was lusting after a man. Harry Potter was lusting after Lord Voldemort. It was so ironic Harry would've laughed, if he wasn't so miserable.
"How could this happen?" Harry whispered to himself, feeling the tears burn behind his eyelids. "I'm seriously sick."
He groaned, choked back an angry sob and finally threw his blankets off, revealing his naked body. The cool air made him shiver as he stood up from the bed. He opened his school trunk and grabbed a pair of underwear and quickly slipped them over his lean hips. He then dressed in a large pair of grey sweatpants, a gift from his huge cousin, and a black t-shirt; a birthday gift from Hermione. He ignored his glasses, since he didn't have to study anyways, and yawned as he brought a hand to his head and rubbed his temple a little to sooth the growing headache.
He shivered again and grabbed a black, soft jacket to keep himself warm as he entered the common room. It was empty, save for Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, calmly chatting away and occasionally giggling. Harry greeted them with a small smile, making them giggle again, and he surprised a sigh of annoyance. He then exited the room and headed for the library. There were very few students left at Hogwarts, not only because Harry knew that some of the students had been transferred to other schools, due to Harry's "insanity". But also because it was the first Hogsmeade weekend and almost every student had went to visit the magic little village.
Harry enjoyed loneliness and entered the library. Immediately his gaze fell on the book of Vampires, Demons and Other Creatures of the Dark again. Harry swallowed hard and stiffly walked towards the book. It was lying at the very same spot he had left it the day before. It lay on the table, seemingly gleaming in the pale light. The rain was drumming faintly against the window.
Finally Harry's curiosity took over and he sighed in defeat as he sat down and slowly opened the book again. He skipped the pages involving werewolves and different kinds of demons until he got to the chapter describing vampires. Harry could feel his breath quicken in excitement as he once again stared into the handsome face of Dracula's son. He faintly wondered if he was alive somewhere. If so, Harry would almost like to meet him. Harry didn't even bother to curse himself for thinking such dark thoughts; they wouldn't cease to exist just because Harry tried to ignore them.
Harry could feel the corners of his lips slowly crawl upwards and quickly scowled. Damnit... He was smirking again. Harry cleared his throat and tried to look stoic, since he felt like a maniac sitting and smirking to himself. He was really losing his mind, wasn't he? Harry bit back a small chuckle of amusement due to his own thoughts and averted his gaze to the book again. He started to read, hungrily and eagerly to learn more about the fascinating creatures. It was as if he couldn't get enough of them. Harry felt somewhat embarrassed about it. He found himself, more than once, smiling at the dark, moving pictures of vampires. There were female vampires, stunningly beautiful and Harry envied them for their grace and elegance. And of course there were males, who made Harry almost blush. Gorgeous males, coldly smirking at Harry, as their narrowed, dark eyes slowly blinked.
Harry cleared his throat, ignoring his burning blush that adorned his cheeks after staring at pictures of incredibly hot vampires for more than an hour. It wasn't until Harry started to feel a faint, pulsating feeling in his groin that he felt disgusted with himself again. Annoyed he slammed the book shut, retreating to the same state of mind he had been during the morning. Harry sent the book a hateful look that held a faint trace of longing. Then he turned his back to the book and exited the library, having the same feeling you get after writing in a diary; relieved and almost happy. But the feelings were mixed with frustrated feelings of self-loathing.
Deciding he needed air, Harry walked to the huge Quidditch field, not surprised to find it empty. The air was crisp and chilly and Harry took a deep breath, feeling lightheaded and energized. He regretted not bringing his broomstick. It was still raining a little, but Harry enjoyed the cold weather in a new way. He smiled and averted his gaze to the dark grey sky. Was there going to be thunder? Great.
"Harry? What are you doing?" Harry stiffened and turned around, facing a soaking wet Hermione. She stared at him, slightly scowling. "You're going to catch a cold."
Harry rubbed the back of his head, feeling extremely embarrassed about his previous behavior; staring up into the grey sky, smiling like a mad man.
"What are you doing here, Hermione? Aren't you supposed to be in Hogsmeade?" He murmured, trying to force the embarrassed blush to go away. Hermione sighed and gestured to her clothes.
"I was in Hogsmeade, but it started raining, as I'm sure you've noticed, and we all got soaking wet. Most of the students stayed at Hogsmeade though. I came back here because I don't want to get sick. We have a test in potions next week, you know."
Hermione pursed her lips and sniffed a little, obviously already getting too cold. Harry nodded.
"I know. You should get inside, Hermione. You're getting cold." He said while turning his back on her. "I want to stay for a while. The air feels really nice." he turned to the brown-haired girl again. Hermione gave him a stubborn look.
"You're coming with me," said Hermione. "I'm telling you, Harry, you are going to get sick."
Harry could feel his emotions stir again. Hermione was once again acting as if Harry couldn't take care of himself. He gave her an icy glare. Hermione looked slightly taken aback.
"Look, I wanna stay out here. You got a problem with that?"
Hermione stared at Harry and slowly shook her head. She looked almost frightened. And Harry... hated himself. Hated himself for enjoying that look on her face. He felt a strange kind of satisfaction by looking at her face. He was finally getting the respect he wanted, the respect he demanded. Hermione visibly swallowed and took a step back. That's when Harry realized what he was doing. He immediately regretted acting so cold towards Hermione. The girl averted her gaze to the dark green grass.
"You've... changed, Harry," Hermione murmured. "I don't know what it is, but you seem different."
Harry took a step towards the now shivering girl. Hermione looked almost as if she wanted to run away, so Harry didn't walk all the way to her.
"I'm sorry, Hermione... I'm just... really tired. That's all." He knew it was a lame explanation. But what was he supposed to say? A part of him still enjoyed the sight of Hermione, carefully meeting his gaze, while shivering in the cold rain. She gave him a small smile and nodded. Harry could see she was still worried.
"Well... I'm going to go inside. You sure you don't want to come with? I could help you study for the potions test-"
"Hermione..." Harry gave her a semi-glare, making it clear that he didn't want to come with her. Hermione shut up and gave him a nervous smile before running off. Harry sighed, once again feeling ashamed of himself for acting so cold. "What's with me?" He murmured and sat down on a bench.
"Looks to me like you're simply getting sick of her."
Harry jumped and turned around with a pounding heart, facing none other than Draco Malfoy, nonchalantly leaning against the wall. The pale boy smirked a little at Harry and gestured for him to come closer. For reasons Harry didn't want to ponder over, he got up from the bench and walked to Draco, glaring slightly to his archenemy. A small roof prevented the rain from soaking Harry further, and even though he had kind of enjoyed the wet, cold feeling against his skin, it was a relief. His vision was slightly blurry, since he wasn’t wearing his glasses. Draco stared at Harry for about two seconds before turning away again. This wiped Harry's glare off of his face. Draco didn't have his usual proud, cocky look on his face. Harry could see it, despite his blurry vision.
Draco looked kinda bored, and relaxed. As if the blonde also enjoyed the solitude.
"About time you realize just what a pain that girl is," the Malfoy said calmly, not even a hint of his usual cruelness in his voice. He was simply stating fact. Harry stared at Draco and almost forgot to defend his friend.
"Don't talk about Hermione like that, you bastard," he murmured and mentally cursed when the comment came out silent and rather uncaring. As if Harry was speaking out of pure loyalty. Or rather as if Harry was speaking out of old habit. Draco seemed to notice this as well, and he snorted amused.
"Don't try to deny it, golden boy," Draco laughed a little and stuck his hand inside his pocket to bring a small box out of it. "It's written all over your face. Every time you hang out with those... buddies of yours, you look kinda... miserable," Draco chuckled slightly.
Harry's eyes went wide as they saw exactly what kind of box Draco was holding.
"Muggle cigarettes?" He asked, bemused that Draco would use something like that. Didn't the Malfoys despise muggles? Draco nodded and brought a long, thin cigarette to his mouth. He lit the end with his wand and inhaled deeply. Harry could see just how much Draco enjoyed it. The blonde's entire body seemed to relax as the smoke invaded his lounges. Draco closed his eyes and let the smoke out through his mouth and nose. It made Harry... almost jealous to watch the blonde smoke with such elegance.
"Yeah, well... It's like my dad says, 'Muggles are scum, but they sure know how to make good cigarettes.'" Draco smirked and took another deep breath from the white stick in his mouth. Harry laughed at the joke, before he slapped his hand over his mouth and stared at the ground. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't think such a low joke was funny, did he? Still, a dark chuckle fought to escape Harry's throat, and Harry had to bite his lip to prevent the laughter. Draco stared at him.
"I hate to agree with the mudblood, Potter, but you do seem to have... changed."
Harry sighed and gazed at the field again. He felt weird. As if Draco's words actually made him feel content. Harry could feel it also. He had started to change... All of a sudden he enjoyed reading about vampires more than anything, he had erotic fantasies about a certain Dark Lord, and he laughed at a cruel muggle-joke, told by a Slytherin. This was not Harry Potter's usual behavior. But... maybe this was better?
Even though Harry was ashamed of the perverted dreams he had, and the fact that he had secretly begun to hope that they would return the next time he went to bed, Harry didn't really suffer from his new state of mind. In fact... he somewhat enjoyed it. He still fought against it, but somewhere in his mind, he had definitely started to enjoy it.
Harry didn't reply to Draco's comment, and the boys were silent for a few minutes before Harry spoke.
"Your father allows you to smoke?" Harry realized what a childish question it was, but it was too late to do anything about it, and he did want to know. Draco chuckled.
"My father isn't here now, is he?" Draco said smugly and inhaled again, before letting the smoke pour out of his mouth. Harry could smell the strong scent of cigarette smoke, and he almost found it pleasant. He smiled back at Draco before he could stop himself. Draco smirked wider and took out another cigarette and held it out for Harry. Harry stared at it, feeling tempted, but trying to stay rational.
"I-I don't smoke," he murmured, blushing, once again feeling like a child. Draco hummed and pursed his lips; an expression Harry had never seen on Draco before. It made the blonde look almost... cute. Draco didn't take the cigarette back.
"Then, do you want to try?"
Ah, the standard question before one would make the biggest mistake of his life. Harry stared at the cigarette and suddenly a question popped into his mind; "Why not?"
Why shouldn't he get to make his own decisions? He had been through hell, and still people treated him like some kind of tool. And these days Dumbledore wouldn't even look at him. A spark of anger once again heated up Harry's chest and he took the cigarette from Draco and brought it to his mouth. He felt somewhat like a stupid rebel, but it still felt good to make a choice of his own. No one could see him. It was pleasantly... sinful. He was hanging out with Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin and the son of Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand.
Harry nervously lit the cigarette and inhaled slowly, knowing full well that he would cough if he didn't do it carefully. He managed to get through the first inhale with only a small cough and quickly inhaled again, as he started to feel relaxed. Draco smiled.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
Harry nodded and smirked.
"So where's your little crew, Malfoy? I had the impression that you couldn't leave your dorm without your gorillas being at your side," Harry chuckled a little and Draco glared at him.
"Don't even mention it," the blonde groaned and once again took a breath from his cigarette. "They're in Hogsmeade, probably looking for me. I kinda escaped from them. This is the only way I can be alone for a while."
Harry nodded, still chuckling.
"I know the feeling. What about your girlfriend? What's her name again? Pansy?"
Draco laughed out loud at this and leaned against the wall. Harry stared at the blonde as he caught his breath.
"Pansy..." Draco laughed. Harry found his laughter quite pleasant. It wasn't high and cheerful, like Ron and Hermione's... it was darker, and held some kind of heavy feeling to it. A dry laughter, Harry realized. That's what it was. "Pansy is living in a dream world. She's not my girlfriend, nor is she ever going to be. But she likes to hang around me and touch me in public so that everyone will think I'm hers."
The blonde continued to chuckle at this, as if he found it incredibly amusing and Harry frowned.
"Um... mind me asking, but why do you let her do it? I mean... she's not exactly the prettiest girl in town. You could do better," Harry said, realizing too late what he had said. He blushed a little and tried to hide this fact by taking another deep inhale of the cigarette that started to feel better with each time. Draco stared at Harry for a second before replying.
"Well, actually she helps me without knowing it. I wasn't planning on telling anyone, but since you're obviously the same..." Draco trailed off, seemingly ashamed of what he was going to say. Harry stared at the Slytherin boy. 'The same'? What did Draco mean?
Finally Draco took a deep breath and started to talk.
"You know who Blaise Zabini is, right?" Harry nodded, remembering the good-looking dark boy in Draco's class. "Well... he and I are... kinda... like..." Draco trailed off again, but Harry's pulse began to run. He started to realize what Draco was going to say. He took a shaky inhale from his cigarette, waiting for the blonde to finish. "We're together," Draco finally said, obviously embarrassed. "And if you tell anyone I'll kill you myself," he muttered and turned away from Harry.
Harry stared at Draco.
"You're gay?" He asked, completely shocked. He hadn't noticed... not even once, during the four years of going to the same school as Draco, that the pale boy might be a tad different from himself. Only Harry now realized that they were the same. Draco sighed.
"Does that shock you? Disgust you? I don't even know why I'm telling you this, Potter!" Now he sounded frustrated and even confused. "We're not even friends! I haven't told any of my friends... the only ones who know about me and Blaise are me and Blaise. God... what is with you, Potter?" Draco said, making it sound as if it was all Harry's fault. Strangely enough Harry sighed, and even felt annoyed after hearing Draco say 'we're not friends'. He leaned his back against the wall.
"I won't tell anyone. It's like you said... we're the same."
Silence. A few minutes went on, none of them speaking. Draco had started to smoke a second cigarette and Harry was content just to smell the smoke coming from the blonde.
"Hey Potter... If you find them so annoying, why do you still hang out with Miss mudblood and the weasel?"
Harry didn't even tell Draco to shut up about his friends, but merely sighed.
"I dunno. Why do you hang out with Crabbe and Goyle?"
Draco shrugged and gave a small chuckle.
"We're obviously more alike than I thought, Potter. If you ever feel like ditching your little Gryffindor pals, feel free to pay me a visit." Harry stared at the pale boy as he turned to face Harry and gave a slight smirk. "I'm sure you would enjoy my company a bit more than theirs. As sure as I am that I would enjoy your company a lot more than Crabbe and Goyle's."
Harry scoffed, amused and worried.... and confused. Draco's offer seemed great, yet at the same time Harry knew that he shouldn't think it was great because he was a Gryffindor and Gryffindors and Slyhterins were enemies and Harry was supposed to defeat Lord Voldemort, not befriend him and certainly not have erotic fantasies about said dark lord. Harry sighed.
"I should go..." He murmured and turned his back to Draco. "I'll see you around. Thanks for the cigarette." He started to walk, feeling the rain hit his cheeks.
"Don't mention it, and Potter..." Harry turned around and faced Draco. The Slytherin boy smirked. "You look good without glasses."
Harry could feel his cheeks heat up and he quickly turned back, refusing to face Draco any more. He could hear the dark chuckle from the Slytherin as he made his way over the field and into the large castle. He just wanted to sleep now. Sleep and think things over. Just as he was starting to run up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower a strong hand came around his shoulder. Before Harry knew it, he was facing Severus Snape.
The potions master ogled Harry's wet clothes for a second before letting go of Harry's shoulder.
"How are you feeling, Potter?" Snape asked, sounding like a robot. His jaw was as stiff as ever and his black eyes cold and unemotional. It was quite clear that Snape wasn't really concerned about Harry's well being. Harry just shrugged.
"I'm fine sir. Why do you ask?"
Snape gave him a cold look before answering.
"You seem to have... changed over the summer, Potter. Anything I should know about?"
Harry stiffly shook his head and slowly started to back away. Snape followed, until Harry's back finally hit the wall and made him feel somewhat trapped. Snape gave an unpleasant smirk.
"Really now? Then maybe you can explain this?" Snape said and held up a paper that Harry soon recognized. It was the paper that Harry had used during his detention. Harry felt like he was suddenly dipped in ice cold water. At the end of the paper was the small sentence that Harry had prayed Snape wouldn't notice.
You don't know anything yet, Harry Potter. You know nothing.
The words seemed to smirk at him, almost mock him. Harry stared at the sentences and shuddered. He hadn't written them himself. Someone else must've...
"I-I... I just wrote them... I don't know why..." Harry stuttered, wanting nothing more than to go to bed, even though it wasn't even afternoon yet. Snape held a tight grip on his shoulder and leaned in, making Harry shudder in disgust about having the man so close.
"Tell me the truth!" Snape hissed in Harry's ear and tried to make eye contact with him, for reasons Harry didn't want to think about.
"I don't know!" Harry winced and tried to yank free but then...
Ah... the soothing darkness was around them again as Harry clung to the man that caressed his body so gently, yet so harshly it made Harry shake with pleasure. "P-please!" He begged and spread his legs wider as he felt the man thrust his hips against his and Harry moaned. "Please... what?" the man whispered hotly in Harry’s ear. Harry whimpered. "F-fuck me..!"
Harry gasped and slumped against the wall in exhaustion. He hadn't had an erotic image the entire day, and this one was so strong. Harry's body was already pulsating with need, practically ordering Harry to run to his bed and jerk off before he went insane. But unfortunately for him, Snape was still there.
"Potter? What is wrong with you?"
Harry slumped down the wall, praying to all the gods he knew that Snape wouldn't notice his straining arousal and brought his knees up to his chin.
"I-Im fine," he panted and turned his face away. "I'm really tired, sir. I would like to go to bed."
Snape didn't back off, and this somehow triggered something inside of Harry. Suddenly he felt an outrageous anger towards Snape. Irrationally, he felt like he had been betrayed by the black-haired man. And when Harry finally met Snape's gaze, his eyes were filled with hateful anger, making Snape back off a little, looking slightly shocked.
"Potter-"
Harry growled and yanked free from Snape's grasp. He quickly escaped from his potions teacher.
"Don't fucking touch me!" He hissed to the man as he ran passed him, up to the Gryffindor tower. His body was practically shaking with fury, and the arousal was still there, beginning to hurt as it strained to be set free from the layers of clothing. Harry positioned himself on the bed just like the previous day, and pulled the curtains, even though he knew it was unnecessary. Ron wasn't coming home until the next day and the others were still in Hogsmeade.
Harry removed his pants and underwear and started to stroke himself, still feeling angry. Harry didn't understand why though. It was as if it wasn't really his feelings. More like he was feeling someone else's emotions.
"That scum is not allowed to touch you, Harry," the voice whispered and Harry immediately moaned with pleasure at knowing that the man was there again, probably watching his every move. He removed his shirt and began caressing his nipples, making them stiffen.
"I... I won't let him... do it again!" Harry panted and bent forward, kneeling on the bed, and burying half of his face into his pillow. His stroking quickened.
"You are such a good boy." the voice chuckled and Harry blushed as he could feel the man's gaze upon him. He turned on his back and spread his legs wide as if inviting the man to participate. A jolt of longing shot through his body, and Harry wasn't sure whether it was his own longing or if it was the man's feeling that went through him. Harry gasped with pleasure and started thrusting his hips against his curled hand.
"I want... you to...ah!" Harry had stopped himself for a few seconds to prevent himself from cumming too fast and tried to catch his breath. He stared out into nothingness, not sure where exactly the man was. "I-I want you to touch me." Harry murmured, feeling both embarrassed and aroused by his own words. The voice gave a sighed chuckle and for a moment, Harry could've sworn he felt a pair of hands grace his hips.
"There is a way... but it is only possible because of what I am. And it is complicated."
"But I-" Harry started but was interrupted by the same feeling of invisible hands touching him. He threw his head back and sighed with delight as the hands grazed his inner thighs.
"I will send Nagini to you. She'll bring you a letter and tell you everything you need to know, but for now... just enjoy this, Harry. It is because of your own imagination that I can perform this illusion. I am not really touching you. But because you want it so bad, I can trick your brain into believing that I do."
Harry whimpered and thrust his hips, urging the invisible hand to touch him in more intimate places than just his thighs. When the hands wouldn't obey, Harry growled and took a hold of his own member, pumping it furiously, still enjoying the feeling of hands on his thighs as he jerked himself off. Harry started to pant and moan and writhe on the bed as he was completely lost, drunk on his own pleasure. His back arched and he gasped loudly as his thumb grazed the slit and the entire member seemed to quiver from the touch. Harry opened his tightly shut eyes and stared down at himself, blushing madly. He watched in bewilderment as the pre-cum soaked his fingers, making them slippery.
Harry moaned deeply as the hands moved to his chest, gracing his abs and nipples which were already stiff and red. Harry started to see white.
"I'm going to... shit! I-I'm-"
Harry let out a hoarse yell and pumped himself madly as he spilled himself onto the bed. His body stiffened and he was arching off of the bed. The orgasm lasted for almost a minute of maddening pleasure and when it was over, Harry's body was shaking too much for him to move. He had never had such an intense orgasm in his life. He stared at the spot of cum on his covers, too lazy to clean it up right away. He let his damp hands grace his stomach and his chest, simply enjoying the feeling. The hands were gone, but he could still sense the gaze on him.
"Where are you?" Harry asked with a weak voice.
"I'm here," was the only reply Harry got, and he was content. Suddenly feeling incredibly tired, since he hadn't gotten very much sleep the previous night for obvious reasons, Harry did a quick cleansing spell and crawled under in blankets, soon fast asleep. For the first time in quite a while, 'The boy who lived' fell asleep with a content smile adorning his lips. Sighing tiredly as he snuggled against his pillows, pretending it was something else.
tbc
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That’s the end of the third chapter. Yes, I know... sorry for writing so much about cigarettes, but I just can't help it. I find it extremely sexy to smoke, and I hope you're all okay with it. This was the "Harry starts smoking"-chapter, and from now on, I will only mention it sometimes in the texts. But I actually think it's important to write about how Harry feels when he starts smoking. The rebellious feelings he has and how good it feels to smoke. It's a relevant part of who Harry is becoming. Because I'm sure you've noticed that Harry has changed now. ^^ And from now on, he will mostly like his new self.
And yes, I know that Draco is a bit ooc, but I really like him, and I don't like JK Rowling's version of Draco Malfoy (who is a bit pathetic in the books), so I made him a little cooler (according to me).
Next chapter; Harry starts longing for the hands of Voldemort on his body and when the snake Nagini finally shows up, he's really excited. But Harry soon realizes just how difficult it is going to get, and also that Lord Voldemort is more than he appears to be. Luckily for Harry, Draco isn't such a bastard as everyone thinks. And Harry will also get to meet Blaise, who knows more about Harry's destiny than Harry himself.