Author's Note: It's been shamefully long. I almost gave up on this story, but seeing your guys' reviews made me happy, and when I get happy, I get ideas. This is the result of those...

After a short journey down the hall and, unfortunately, more snide remarks from Malfoy, they found themselves in the dark room that Harry guessed was Ron's semi-permanent residence.

"Don't tire yourselves out too much," Malfoy said, smirking behind a half-closed door. "Once you've had a taste, Weasley, it's hard to stop."

The door clicked brusquely shut before the ball Harry threw had enough time to hit him. It clunked dully against the wooden barrier, which then squelched shut as it was sealed from the other side. Harry glared briefly at the door before turning to face Ron again.

He was already lying on the bed.

Harry walked over slowly and joined him. He was certainly tired, what with all the sexual activity lately, and he didn't doubt Ron was probably more so. He had done all the work, after all.

"Ron?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah?" piercing blue eyes stared back at him, so bright even in the dark as they lay next to each other.

"Are you…I mean…do you regret…well…did you like it?" Harry said, trying to find the right words.

He was still nervous about Ron's reaction after their little moment together had ended. During the sex, Harry would have bet everything he owned, including all the gold in his vault, that Ron was enjoying it just as much as himself. The panting, the moaning, and the wild thrusting into him had all been good indications from the redhead to prove that point. But afterwards, when he had been speaking to Malfoy, Ron had looked unhappy again. Angry, even. Was he simply a good actor when it came to sleeping with your best mate? Was Harry reading too much into what was obviously a forced encounter from the beginning?

"Yeah," Ron answered simply.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling relieved. The fact that Ron admitted it without any hesitation at all made his heart feel just a bit lighter. If he could be so casual about it, then he clearly didn't mind much.

"Why, didn't you?" Ron said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Harry couldn't hide the small smile that broke across his face briefly. But then it faded to seriousness again. "I just…you know…I just saw you talking to Malfoy. You looked angry or something…"

"Oh," Ron said, frowning now. Harry felt a small thrill of panic go through him again at this, but Ron continued. "Well…..I was just pissed still, I s'pose. Don't get me wrong," he added hastily as Harry frowned too, "I liked it, like I said. But…I hadn't known that you would like it too. I mean, the fact that he made me do it in the first place…I thought I was gonna traumatize you or something. I didn't know that you were that way…"

Harry looked over, raising his eyebrows.

"Which is fine!" Ron stumbled over his words, clearly trying to arrange them in a non-offensive way. "I mean, I obviously don't have a problem with it, since we…and I wouldn't have anyways, or anything…"

He trailed off. Harry could see a strong blush cross his freckled cheeks.

But he paused at Ron's actual words. Something about the way Malfoy had smirked at him, right before Ron had begun the whole encounter, made him think this wasn't some act of pettiness that so usually accommodated Malfoy's taste.

"Actually, I don't think he was trying to be a dick," Harry said, sighing. His eyes rose to survey the ceiling. "Well, he probably was, but less so than usual," Harry shrugged. But he hesitated now, knowing that he had to come clean about a few things. Since they were both accepting this…whatever it was, Ron should probably know the truth. "I…may have to tell you some stuff," he added slowly.

"What?" Ron said, sounding wary.

"Well," Harry said hesitantly, "I guess there have been some times where I may have thought of you in ways that were…less friend-like. But I didn't really mean to," Harry said quickly, seeing Ron raise his own eyebrows now. "I just sort of…couldn't help it, I guess."

It was true, anyways.

"Yeah, I sort of noticed sometimes," Ron said, shrugging. "Like in the showers."

Harry spluttered and felt his face heat considerably. He had known? For how long?

"Your eyes always seemed to gravitate toward me after practice," Ron continued teasingly.

"Yeah, well…" Harry said, looking away. Great. How was it everyone always knew things about him before he figured them out himself?

"But, wait," Ron said slowly. "So does that mean that…that you told him before you told me?"

Harry bit his lower lip, feeling guilty. It probably wasn't fair that Malfoy of all people knew before Ron even did. However, it wasn't as though he had given the information up willingly.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "He sort of made me say, and it sort of slipped out. But, I mean, I wasn't even sure, really…"

"Well, blimey mate, you know you can tell me stuff," Ron sighed. He sounded exasperated.

"I only fully realized it a few days ago," Harry defended. "Because of all this. Plus, I didn't know what you'd say. I mean, you almost jinxed Seamus when he took the last roll at breakfast one time. I had no idea how you'd react to something like…that."

"Yeah, I s'pose," Ron said blankly.

They sat in silence for a moment. Harry didn't know quite what to say. That is, until Ron laughed shortly.

"What?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Oh, I just realized," Ron said, grinning. "Charlie's gay."

"Really?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows. He hadn't guessed that one. Well, he hadn't guessed himself, even, so it wasn't really that shocking…

"Yeah, he told us a while ago that he had, er, 'befriended' one of the other dragon-trainers. None of us really thought anything bad about it though," Ron said.

"Oh, well, if I had known that…" Harry trailed off, feeling put-out.

"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly. "I guess it's all my fault, eh?"

"Yeah, it is," Harry said teasingly. He dodged, but Ron's well-aimed pillow still managed to hit him in the head. At least he didn't have glasses anymore, because they would undoubtedly have been knocked askew by the blow.

"So like, are we 'together' now and stuff?" Ron asked bluntly.

Harry paused, caught off-guard.

He supposed that, were they under normal circumstances, having sex would technically be considered a 'couple' thing to do. However, they were in captivity, and had two Death Eaters that were terrorizing them sexually whenever they saw fit. It didn't feel like ideal conditions, but perhaps that was what they needed, now more than ever. Someone to be close to who wasn't a symbol of fear.

"I guess so," Harry said finally. He turned to the redhead, grinning slightly. "I mean, fucking me is a pretty good ice-breaker, so…"

They stared at each other, then promptly started laughing. It was good to know that, even in the most horrible of circumstances, they were still able to find the light.

They had actually managed to get to sleep for a few hours, their quiet talk fading into gentle breaths that lulled into deep, satisfied slumber. But then, Harry had been gently awoken, and not by Malfoy's annoying voice this time, thank god.

It had been movement under his arm, which he now could feel was draped across a warm body. He prayed dearly that it wasn't Draco, for he didn't think he could stand another minute with that git. Plus, if Malfoy knew he was awake, he would probably just try and make another move again, which would undoubtedly be successful. Harry opened his eyes forebodingly. Red hair was directly in front of him, not blond like he had feared. Harry gave a small sigh of relief.

When he noticed movement again, this time he could see Ron's hand trailing lower down his own torso, and his breathing was a bit heavy. He was clearly reaching for between his legs, perhaps to take care of something? Harry could recall the feel of Ron's body, how hard and firm it had felt pressed up against him just earlier this evening. Seeing that hand trail ever-so-slowly down that taut stomach, resting just above his pelvis, made Harry stare intently to will it to go further. It was a moment before he realized his mouth was hanging open, and he almost groaned when Ron's hand stopped short. He looked like he was rethinking his decision.

So, Harry made up his mind for him. Overcome by bravery and lust, he acted without giving much thought beforehand.

"Hm, what's this?" Harry said up against the back of Ron's neck, reaching around and grasping the subject at hand. It was indeed quite erect. Had he perhaps been thinking unclean thoughts as well?

He heard a gasp and saw Ron stiffen. Otherwise, the redhead didn't say anything.

"Well?" Harry said teasingly, not letting go. He squeezed slightly to get his attention.

"I believe it's a penis," Ron said in a strangled voice. "A lot of blokes have them, you see…"

"Yeah, but not ones quite so…large," Harry whispered, moving over to his ear. He heard Ron's breath hitch.

"Bigger than Malfoy's?"

"By a lot," he assured. It wasn't untrue…

Ron rolled right over and pounced, taking Harry by surprise slightly. He felt a tongue shove into his mouth, much more eager than the unsure first kiss they had shared atop Malfoy's bed. That time it had been a test, now it was just a foreshadowing of greater events to come.

They snogged deeply, Harry's tongue just as participant in the kiss as Ron's was. He felt fingers thread into his hair, tugging him closer if possible. Harry would be lying if he said a small thrill didn't run through him at the rough gesture.

He didn't really feel that they should get fully into it, though. He figured one go in one day was enough, especially for how new they were at this. He could only take so much, after all. But, Harry thought rather guiltily, Ron hadn't really been experiencing the same treatment as Harry over the past few days. While Harry didn't exactly like Malfoy jumping on him at every chance he got, it was no doubt a lot better than the circumstances Ron had been living with. With a fierce determination, Harry decided to bring Ron as much pleasure as he could, so that he would never forget who his real owner was…

Harry grabbed his arms roughly and rolled them to switch positions. Ron looked confused, until Harry hitched a leg over to straddle him, for then the expression turned to that of incredulous arousal. Sitting above him like that, staring down at those bright red locks that sprawled slightly out on the bed covers, Harry couldn't help adopting a similar expression himself. He was actually doing this. With Ron.

Ron took a plump lower lip between his teeth in what looked like nervousness, and Harry gulped. How could he look so delicious with one simple action? The freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and nose stood out in the moonlight. His face was blushing with pent-up frustrations, made obvious by the hard-on that was currently pressing into Harry's arse as he sat atop him. His body was getting heated very quickly, and all he had been doing was staring.

"Now, you'll have to help me, because I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing," Harry said as he pulled away. He crawled in what was undoubtedly a rather clumsy way, backward along Ron's legs, until he was hovering over the other boy's trousers.

He pulled the zipper to Ron's jeans down, trying not to lose his courage.

Ron groaned, probably realizing where this was about to go. It was a noise of foreboding, but laced with a heavy dose of want.

Harry undid Ron's trousers fully now, but only pulled the fabric away enough to expose his fairly generous erection. Harry looked at it, slightly curious. What would it taste like? Was it different than all other body parts, since it was…down there? Well, skin was skin, but what came out of this particular organ was definitely something different. Would he get scared before he could finish Ron off? Then he would just feel stupid. But to say he wasn't curious would be a lie…

Harry pulled Ron's legs apart now, getting between them to be a bit more comfortable. He could remember just a few hours ago when it was Ron doing this to him, and he tried to remember how it felt. Technically, Malfoy had done it too, but he tried not to think about that and just do it himself. He looked up for reassurance, seeing Ron stare back with an almost desperate expression. Well, he seemed to be looking forward to it…

Still staring up, curious to see his face, Harry leaned down and took Ron into his mouth in one go.

"Uhh," Ron sighed, his eyes half-closing. Harry felt calloused fingers run through his wild hair. Apparently, he did indeed like it.

Harry went down as far as he could, which was actually almost all the way, really. He didn't go down so far as to choke or anything, and he hoped that it was good enough. He suspected gagging on a cock wouldn't be one of the sexier moments of his life.

He worked his tongue as he went, playing it along the underside of Ron's cock. Judging by the moan as he moved back up again, Ron was enjoying either the sight or the feeling, though most likely both from what Harry could remember of his own perspective. He dipped down several times, to which Ron's breathing grew heavy, and then began lightly licking the tip. Ron turned his head to the side, closing his eyes. Harry tried not to smirk.

"Harry, you're gonna kill me," Ron said breathlessly, and this time Harry actually did smile.

He decided enough teasing, however, and took him in fully again. Harry placed his hands on Ron's hips to steady his actions. At this, he accidentally closed his mouth a bit, not biting necessarily, but enough to be a mistake. He released again immediately, worried that it might have hurt. Ron made a small "ah!" noise, but it actually sounded breathless instead of panicked, like Harry had expected. He mentally shrugged, hoping his blunder went relatively unnoticed.

Occasionally, Harry would look up again to see Ron staring down at him. His freckled cheeks were pink with arousal, and his bottom lip was getting rather a lot of abuse. They were clear signs he was enjoying himself, and the sight of such desperation made Harry feel his own excitement a bit…

"You have no idea how good you feel," Ron said breathlessly, grabbing a handful of the bed coverings. Ron's other hand tightened its grasp in his hair, making Harry close his eyes. He could feel his own cock straining against his trousers, and subsequently the bed beneath him. Well, he took what friction he could get for now, and it wasn't entirely unsatisfactory, either…

He grunted, taking advantage of the release he found in thrusting slightly against the mattress. Doing this, Harry couldn't help feeling like some sort of wanton whore. Was he supposed to enjoy sucking another boy off so much?

But at this point, it was hard to care, and he gripped Ron's narrow hips in order to try and concentrate.

"Ohh…" Ron moaned, tossing his head to the side.

Harry continued, encouraged by his noises, the soft panting and groans that signaled he was doing a good job. He was relentless as he sucked thoroughly, making sure Ron enjoyed every feeling that was good about sex, not just the hurtful ones.

"Oh," Ron breathed, arching his back slightly. He felt a tug on his hair, trying to pull him away. "Harry, I'm – "

But Harry brought a hand up to rest on his abdomen, Ron's shirt having ridden up from their movements, signaling that he wouldn't pull away. He was determined to finish this, and the thought even made himself quite randy. Ron would come, and he would swallow it, which seemed so forbidden and…naughty.

Ron moaned again and began to lightly thrust into Harry's mouth, making him close his eyes. The friction of the bed beneath him, mixed with the dominant way Ron treated him, was too good. Ron knew enough to take what he wanted, to use Harry for his own pleasure and come into his mouth. But the gentle way Ron's hand was threaded in his hair, playing at the nape of his neck was what made Harry come first, and it took him slightly by surprise. He moaned slightly (which was a bit muffled), and thrust his hips gently at the sensation. He tried to concentrate on not closing his mouth too hard, and had to settle for sucking roughly instead.

"Oh god," Ron moaned, just as Harry's orgasm had faded. He tensed, coming into Harry's mouth, and Harry just had the sense to start swallowing as cum flowed freely from Ron's erection. It pulsed, which was odd to feel, but he had to gather his thoughts enough to just continue on sucking. Unfortunately, his dazed mind couldn't catch up, and a small bit of seed dribbled from the corner of Harry's mouth. He tried to make up for it, however, and finally Ron's body started to relax again. Harry swallowed one last time for good measure, and let Ron slip from his mouth with a small spuk.

The redhead lay there, chest heaving. He looked completely satisfied, which made Harry grin slightly in his own satisfaction.

But then the taste started to linger, and Harry grimaced, wiping away the semen that had escaped during the job.

"Ew," he said, looking over at Ron. Hopefully he wasn't offended.

"Is it bad?" Ron asked. He looked worried, as if it were his fault somehow.

"It's not good," Harry admitted, looking down at what had produced the liquid in the first place. "Saves on cleanup, though," he added as an afterthought. He hadn't thought of what would happen if there had been cum on the sheets. Malfoy would have been displeased to clean it up, no doubt.

Though, all the same, this was his fault.

Ron chuckled and did up his own jeans. He sat up, looking over at Harry again. His expression seemed embarrassed.

"Do you want me to…er…" he offered, gesturing at Harry's crotch.

Harry felt his face heat up at the recollection of what had happened, and why he didn't even need assistance anymore. God, the things he had done…he was almost unrecognizable to himself. Getting so randy over such a thing that, a few days ago, he hadn't even comprehended doing in his lifetime…

Ron's eyes travelled down to his jeans, and Harry looked there too. There was an obvious wet spot where he had shamelessly come, like some twelve-year-old boy humping his bed at night. Lovely.

Ron laughed slightly, then hastily apologized for doing so.

"You were making a lot of noise," Harry said, feeling his embarrassment grow tenfold.

He flopped down on his stomach on the bed, mortified. At least the position hid his spunk.

The bed dipped, and Ron pulled him up again. Harry whined, not wanting Ron's pity or reassurance. However, he was dragged backward before he could protest further, and Ron was bigger than him, so his sluggish resistance wasn't very effective.

Ron leaned back against the headboard of the bed, pulling Harry close to lean against his chest. Harry sighed, wondering what he would say.

"I think we can make you come again," Ron whispered right next to his ear, biting it lightly when he finished.

Harry's breath hitched. Well, that hadn't been what he expected.

As a hand worked at the front of his trousers, Harry realized that being with Ron would take a bit of getting used to.

"Potter. Potter!"

Harry groaned at the shout, unfortunately too familiar with it to not know who it was. He was slumped against something warm and solid, and it took him a moment to realize that it was Ron.

"Potter, wake up."

"Don't want to," Harry mumbled, wishing he could just be in peace for more than a few bloody hours.

"Come on, Potter," Malfoy said impatiently. He sounded strained, which was unlike him. Harry reluctantly opened his eyes to see what the bloody hurry was.

"Can't he stay a bit more?" Ron asked from behind him. Harry felt arms remove themselves from around his waist, and then a gentle ruffling of his hair. He groaned again, though this time in comfort at the lovely feeling…

"No," said Malfoy simply.

"Why not?" Ron said indignantly.

"Because," Malfoy gave Ron a pointed look, which Harry couldn't understand. The blonde eyebrows then turned up into more of a pitying look as Draco said, "Greyback."

Harry felt a slight sick feeling in his stomach at this. He heard Ron groan behind him, but it seemed to be more scared than tired. Harry sat up quickly and looked up at Malfoy.

"What? Is he back?" Harry panicked.

"…Yes," Malfoy said finally.

The room went silent then. Malfoy looked at them both, a blank expression on his face. Harry felt his breathing pick up, but Ron was dead silent. Malfoy, the ever-caring soul, looked annoyed after a few seconds.

"Look Potter, we have to leave."

"I don't want to," Harry said, feeling pathetically useless.

"Harry, you should go," Ron said shakily. The fear evident in his voice made Harry definitely not want to leave then…

"But…but…" Harry said, looking from him to Malfoy and back. His eyes stung, but he ignored it. There were more pressing matters at hand instead of maintaining his dignity.

He dearly wished that Malfoy had some sort of plan. Clearly, after all this, he wasn't going to revert back to the old ways, right? As Harry looked up at Draco, Ron unable to see, he pleaded silently for him to do something, anything at all. He knew there was no other way of interpreting the message, but Malfoy merely shifted uncomfortably and looked back at the door.

"Harry, I'll see you later, yeah?" Ron said. The tone to his voice fooled no one.

"Okay," Harry said in a thick voice. Malfoy wouldn't do anything. He doubted he could stop Greyback unarmed, especially if Ron couldn't, and even if he tried, there was a chance that they both would die.

It was the worst feeling in the world, knowing what he was leaving Ron to do. He slipped off the edge of the bed, not looking in Ron's direction to prevent himself from doing anything stupid. If he saw the terror that could be in those bright blue eyes, he definitely wouldn't ever leave…

But Ron got up too and grabbed Harry before he left. He was turned round to face him quickly, and felt those soft lips press against his own once more. For some reason, it felt like a 'goodbye', which made Harry's heart skip a few beats. He could feel wetness on his face as they kissed, but whether it was his own or Ron's, Harry wasn't sure. He just wished it wasn't there at all. Finally, they let go, and Harry turned quickly without saying another word.

He heard the door click with a grim finality as they stood in the quiet hallway.

"I can't believe you," Harry spat finally, fully aware that a rogue tear had made its way down his cheek. He wiped it away furiously.

"Shut up," Malfoy said quickly, not sounding the least bit sorry. He sealed the door again with a flick of his wand.

"What?" Harry barked.

Malfoy shushed him harshly, seized his arm, and dragged him down the hall. Harry wrenched his arm back, ready to tear the blond a new arse-hole with a few well-placed words. But Malfoy seemed to want none of it. He pulled back with an equally jarring force and continued to hurry along the corridor. When Harry protested, Malfoy shushed him again, looking mutinous.

"You be any louder and they'll hear us," he said shortly.

Harry huffed, but remained quiet. The blond was clearly in a hurry, so perhaps Greyback was closer than Malfoy let on. That, or he was being over-cautious. However, that didn't seem to be Malfoy's style, and Harry could definitely tell something was stressing the other boy.

Perhaps daddy troubles? Harry wondered bitterly.

He didn't think it was possible for him to even hate Malfoy any more than he already did. But for some reason, the fact that he still did nothing to save Ron from his terrible fate, even after he had somewhat aided in their becoming an 'item', stung just a bit more. It was the fact that he had caused Harry's feelings for the redhead to grow, and then allowed Greyback to hopelessly dash any chance at them again. It seemed that no matter what good Malfoy did, he always managed to reverse it somehow. Whether this proved he was a attempting to be a good person, or was just a genuinely evil person, Harry was unsure.

The door to Draco's room slammed behind them, and the blond shoved him forward quickly.

"Urgh," Harry grunted, nearly bumping into the bedpost. "What is your pr – ?"

"Shut up," Malfoy said again, this time a bit more loudly. He ran a hand through his bright locks, appearing to think quickly.

Harry narrowed his eyes. Was something up?

"Okay," Malfoy muttered, nibbling his lower lip firmly. He looked as though he had reached some sort of decision. Harry stared, wondering what exactly he had decided and why he looked so flustered. A vague ray of hope shone inside him as he wondered if Malfoy was going to save Ron after all…

But then, he was being manhandled again, and Harry protested once more.

"Oi, just tell me what's going on!" he said, wincing as Draco's slender fingers dug into his skin painfully. He was steered towards the bed and pushed down onto it.

Harry grunted, his eyes widening. Surely not now, of all times, while Ron was just down the hall and about to be –

But then he was pushed onto his stomach, and felt a hand clutch the fabric of his shirt. It pulled, trying to remove it, but Harry growled in anger.

"No," he said fiercely, seizing Draco's wrist to stop him.

Malfoy glared.

"Potter, shut up for the love of Merlin and do as I fucking SAY!" he bellowed.

Harry was momentarily stunned. He stared back at Malfoy's cold grey eyes, which were burning like molten steel. He had never, not once, heard Draco's voice reach such a volume, even at Hogwarts. Sure, Harry had seen Malfoy angry before, but never quite so furious as to lose his composure. He always maintained at least some of that aristocracy. He wondered why it was now that Draco chose to show some bollocks, when Harry had been defying his word ever since he had been trapped here.

Harry felt the shirt pulled forcibly over his head, breaking their eye-contact. The article was abandoned somewhere, as was the usual way of going about things during one of Malfoy's attacks, and he heard rustling behind him as the blond probably did the same with his robes. Then a hand reached around Harry's waist and pulled his hips up again, fumbling inelegantly on the buttons of his trousers. Malfoy was never usually this hurried to get at what he wanted. Was it so important now that they had to do it right while Ron was suffering? Right after he and Ron had admitted their feelings and had started to be almost happy for once? Harry hadn't expected it to last, of course, since they were stuck in this horrible place. But it felt even more wrong now that Draco was going to do this to him, that he was going to fuck him while Harry had just made some progress in what he now considered a 'relationship'.

Was it considered cheating if he wasn't a willing participant?

Harry felt a tightness in his chest as Malfoy started tugging off his trousers.

"Wait, Draco, please," Harry said quickly, trying to shove the hands away. "I just…can we wait a second, please, I just want to – "

"Can't," Malfoy said shortly, abandoning the jeans as well. He pulled his own shirt over his head, revealing slightly paler skin.

They were left in only their underwear, but Harry tried to get his point across. Surely, if Draco had felt some need to put Harry and Ron together, there was something in his mind other than spite and hatred all the time. Right?

"But Ron – " Harry started, yet was interrupted again, this time by a spell.

"Incarcerous!" Draco muttered.

Harry's eyes widened again as he felt his hands yanked behind his back with thick ropes. It seemed reminiscent of his first time in this room, hands bound behind him with a panting blond straddling his body. Harry twisted around, somewhat awkwardly without the use of his arms, to try and look at what Draco was going to do. Was this yet another position he wanted to try, or was he simply trying to make Harry as uncomfortable as bloody possible?

"What're you – ouch, what're you doing!" Harry said, his voice rising in volume as Malfoy flipped him over again. His arms were smashed painfully beneath his body now, all of this feeling less and less dignified as time went on.

Malfoy's cold gaze roamed over him, as though searching for something. It stopped when his grey eyes fell on Harry's forehead. So many eyes had fallen there before, whenever he was introduced to new people or even just by passersby, that Harry was fairly used to it by now. Everyone's gaze was immediately pulled to his most defining feature. Draco reached up quickly and swiped a thumb over the skin there, right over his lightning scar.

"Shit," he muttered fiercely, his blond eyebrows drawing together.

Harry stared back, bewildered.

Malfoy stood up quickly, walking off away from the bed. Harry followed him with his gaze, wondering where the hell he was going now. However, his cheeks heated when he noticed Malfoy had shoved the front of his own boxers down and was wanking himself as he walked. He continued this even when he reached his wardrobe and started searching through the drawers, looking for something. One-handed, of course, since the other was busy…

Harry stared. The bloke was clearly going insane. He had never seen such erratic behavior from the Slytherin before, who was already known to do fairly odd things…

Harry saw him pull away from the drawers again, holding a small phial and a nondescript black cloth. The phial, he was all too familiar with, but he couldn't imagine what the cloth was for. Weren't his hands already tied? He could definitely feel them cramping beneath him.

But soon, the cloth's use became apparent as Harry's vision was obstructed.

"What the bloody hell?" Harry exclaimed, trying to shake the blond off. He felt Malfoy's hands wrap the strip around his head, and then shove his face to the side in order to get at the back. Harry felt his hair pulled slightly from the knot being tied there, but Malfoy didn't seem to care. The knot was pulled tightly at the back of Harry's head, and he was promptly turned over again onto his stomach.

The hands holding him disappeared again, though now Harry felt much more vulnerable. Even with his horrible eyesight before Malfoy's spell, he had at least had some type of fuzzy vision without his glasses. Being completely blind and at the mercy of Draco Malfoy didn't seem like a very good thing, especially when in this particular position. At least he still had his boxers on.

But even that apparently was too much to ask. They were soon pulled down just enough for Draco to get at what he wanted, yet still managing to trap Harry's cock inside them. Well, that would be just great…

Slick fingers probed at him again, and that was all the warning he got before they pushed in rather quickly.

"Ouch," Harry grunted, shifting uncomfortably. Usually Malfoy went a bit easier than that, at least.

"Sh," Malfoy said again. Harry wanted to protest, but when he felt Malfoy's other hand rest flat against his spine, he paused, feeling rather odd.

The gesture was almost kind, in a way. Well, kinder than Malfoy was currently being. It didn't make any sense.

Harry gave up trying to comprehend that mad boy's actions, and instead tried to concentrate on relaxing so that the stretch wasn't quite so painful. Clearly, no matter what he did, there was no way to defend himself like this anymore. Blind and bound without any means of escape. Malfoy's fingers worked quickly, almost hurried in a way, making Harry have to bite his lower lip to stifle any embarrassing noises. He felt even more humiliated with the blindfold, but at least it pushed his hair off his forehead. It got to be bothersome when things tended to…heat up.

But then, Harry felt Malfoy's slickened cock against him way too soon, and he stiffened.

"Wait, Malfoy don't – "

"Just relax," Malfoy interrupted, squeezing his hip firmly.

Harry gasped as he felt the unforgiving head of Malfoy's cock push into him. He cried out as the pain hit him, the stretch of having something inside him that was too big to fit. It was a sharp sting that he was unused to. Even if he had experienced Malfoy's ministrations before, he had never been so brutally taken like he was now. He couldn't even seem to find words, and could only moan in an agonized way.

He felt Malfoy hesitate, and then jumped when he felt breath on his neck. Malfoy was clearly leaning forward, but Harry couldn't see anything…

"Don't you say a word, you hear me?" Malfoy said against his ear. Harry could hear the threat in his voice, a low, dangerous tone. It was laced with a seriousness that foreshadowed unpleasant consequences if the orders weren't followed. "One single word. I don't care what it is. Don't. Say it."

Harry swallowed, wondering what was prompting this. He would be lying if he said he wasn't more than a bit intimidated now…

"Got it?" the blond snarled, shaking him slightly to emphasize his point.

Reluctantly, Harry nodded, somehow feeling it was important to do so.

Draco pulled back and thrust into him again, to which Harry tried not to protest. It was difficult. He could feel the stabbing pain from the rough treatment of his arse, the fact that he hadn't been eased into the process like Malfoy usually chose to do. Harry seemed to have taken that small bit of preparation for granted, because it was obvious that he would rather have that than this cruel alternative. Was Malfoy angry about something? What had prompted him to turn so nasty all of a sudden? Why was Harry blindfolded, of all things, when he clearly knew where he was and who he was with? Something wasn't right about all this…

Harry grunted, feeling another painful thrust into him. At least Malfoy was going relatively slow. Harry could handle it, perhaps get used to it soon if he just took his time…

But he felt his heart falter as there were three distinct knocks on the door. Malfoy sighed dramatically behind him.

"I'm rather busy!" he shouted, sounding immensely annoyed.

Harry proceeded to panic when the sound of the door opening reached his ears. Malfoy hadn't sealed it. He was going to be discovered.

Harry felt slim fingers thread painfully into his hair, shoving the side of his face roughly against the pillow beneath him. Without his arms to aid him, he couldn't really do much about it…

"So this is the little bugger, eh?"

"My little bugger, yes." Malfoy said flatly.

Harry couldn't make out who's voice the other person was. It didn't sound like Lucius Malfoy or Greyback, but it was obviously a man. Harry had never heard him before, and he clearly couldn't see who it was…

"Oh, so you're not gonna share?" the man teased.

"Get lost," Malfoy said. Harry could almost hear the sneer in his voice.

Another painful thrust made him gasp, for he hadn't been expecting it. His wrists strained reflexively against their bonds, but to no avail.

"Oh, feisty too," the man said appreciatively.

"Just being broken in," Malfoy's voice replied. He sounded so nonchalant about it.

Harry wondered if Malfoy was planning on 'sharing' him. He didn't sound completely opposed to the horrid idea, which made Harry extremely nervous. How much convincing would it take for Malfoy to simply give him up? He felt sick to his stomach at the thought. The man's voice was gruff, and he sounded much older than either of the two boys. Was he another Death Eater?

"You gonna just stand there and watch me fuck him, or what?" Malfoy sounded impatient. It was an obvious dismissal.

"Maybe," the other voice said, sounding as though the man were leering as he spoke. "He does look a fine piece of arse. If I can't have him, maybe I ought to watch – "

"Fulber? What you doin' round 'ere?"

Harry tensed as he heard another voice. Was the whole bloody house coming into the room now?

"Excuse me, but was there an owl sent round that said you could all burst into my room?" Malfoy said indignantly. "This is my house, in case you haven't noticed. Get the fuck out! Both of you!"

"Sorry lad, but daddy's not round to babysit now, is 'e?" said the second voice. This man sounded as though he were a bit squirley and short, for his voice was rather high.

Harry was panicking a great deal now. He was lucky Malfoy had put the concealment charms on him last night, for he didn't think they could tell who he really was. The blindfold was also covering his scar, no doubt. Harry wondered if Malfoy had done that on purpose.

But the fact remained that Malfoy was fully seated inside him while two blokes were conversing about it. They also seemed to have taken a liking to him in particular, admiring his arse from afar. Or, so he thought.

He jumped when he felt a third hand, one that clearly wasn't Malfoy's, briefly grasp it. Malfoy's slim fingers quickly swatted the rough fingers away, however.

"My cock is right there, you moron!" he barked, the stress clearly evident in his voice. "Touch me and father will bloody hear of it, I assure you!"

"Just had to feel it meself," the man chuckled.

"Yeah, get on with it if you insist on keeping him," the second added nastily.

"God, you're both horrible," Malfoy said. He sounded repulsed by the two men, and Harry wasn't sure if he should be glad he couldn't see them.

"Yer dad said we couldn' touch yeh. Didn't say nothin' about watchin' yeh," the higher voice said gleefully.

"Something we'll have to discuss in the future," Malfoy added bitterly. "Whatever, you can watch, just sit over there. And I swear to Merlin, if I hear or see you wanking, I'll hex the bollocks right off you."

There was grumbled agreement, and a few choice words, but Harry wasn't paying attention to them. He had tensed against Malfoy's hold when he learned the men were going to stay and watch. What was he, some ride at a bloody carnival? These strange men were going to observe him getting defiled by the Malfoys' son? What kind of horrid people were the Death Eaters even comprised of?

It seemed that his expectations of them could get no lower.

He felt Malfoy grip his hair again, holding him down forcibly against the bed. He could see now that this was some sort of act, but that didn't mean he forgave Malfoy for any of it. So what if he was safe from death? So what if Malfoy was doing him a favor? The humiliation he was feeling at this moment could never be outweighed, he was sure of it. To have his body on display for two grubby-sounding men, who seemed to take a special interest in younger boys. He couldn't imagine anything worse.

But then, as he felt Malfoy thrust roughly against him, he heard another cry of pain that wasn't his own. It came from down the hall, for apparently the men hadn't closed the door behind them.

"Sounds like Greyback's having a good 'ol time, eh?" one of the men said, laughing heartily.

Harry felt the pit of his stomach simply disappear. He could hear a deep, pleasured growl that clearly wasn't Ron's voice. However, the agonized groan after that certainly was.

"No," Harry gasped at this.

"Shut up," Malfoy hissed, his grip tightening harder, pulling painfully at his hair. "What did I bloody tell you, eh?"

Harry grunted, nodding. He could feel his eyes watering from pain, though whether it was the pain in his arse or from his roots being pulled at roughly, Harry wasn't sure. Luckily, the blindfold hid his shame so that the other men weren't aware of his tears. They were soaked up into the fabric, concealed from prying eyes.

Malfoy began thrusting into him again, this time creating a rhythm. It was harder than usual, and much less enjoyable than he was used to. There were no filthy words or the slow grinding of hips. Just an unpleasant stretch from Malfoy slamming into him. It had begun to hurt less, at least, since the previous conversation had given him enough time to catch up. But it was either the humiliation or the too-rough treatment that made Harry's cock remain undeniably soft.

He could tell Malfoy was trying to put on a good show. Harry's hips, which had been held in place by Draco's firm grip, were now shoved forcefully down flat against the bed. Malfoy shifted slightly over him with the change in position, and resumed thrusting. He could feel a gentle squeeze occasionally from Malfoy's hand on his skin, the hand that wasn't buried in his now-blonde strands. Though for what, Harry wasn't exactly sure. For some strange reason, it seemed to offer him comfort.

Malfoy's breathing was heavy, and Harry could feel it against his shoulder. He had been somewhat glad to be soft from all this, at least holding onto one last shred of dignity, but the tightness of his boxers grew as he felt the familiar sensations inside of him. Not as strong a feeling as usual, for Malfoy seemed to be trying to avoid certain areas, but the pleasure couldn't really be hidden from once he accidentally decided to recognize it. Harry didn't even know how an erection was possible under so much stress. Hopefully, his underwear would conceal it.

Bloody hell, how much of this had Malfoy planned?

"Bloody look at that! The kid's actually askin' for it!" One of the men said excitedly.

"You two make it really hard to come, you realize that?" Malfoy shot. "Shut up!"

Harry grunted, turning his head to the other side, away from the creepy onlookers. He felt completely mortified, and he didn't doubt that it showed on the parts of his face that were visible. He could feel the heat crawling along his cheeks, brightening his skin for the world to see. He didn't need to give them more fuel to taunt him, but clearly Malfoy could still see it.

Luckily, he didn't say anything. Harry figured Malfoy wasn't too eager to keep the men around either.

Hips slammed roughly into him, moving at a pace without care. He tried his best to stifle his moans, but the unforgiving pace made it so that he literally had to bite the pillow in front of him. It wasn't a teasing encounter that Malfoy usually chose, or an act simply to get the blond off. It was an act to show that Malfoy didn't care one bit about Harry's well-being, and that Harry wasn't in fact 'the Chosen One' at all. He was just some boy not worth the effort of simple rights, some muggle-born, or blood traitor, or someone else who didn't count as important to society. However, knowing this didn't make Harry feel better. Perhaps death was the wiser choice after all…

What would it be? A few minutes of torture, and then relief? Relief from this hellish life that had so constantly agonized him? Relief from the threat of certain death that forever loomed over him anyways? What more could they do that they hadn't done, really? Wasn't this the lowest of lows, the bottom of the pit? Couldn't his life not possibly decline from this very point? What else could bloody happen? What else did he even have to live for?

But no, he had to live. Had to continue fighting this, because Voldemort couldn't win. Voldemort couldn't take everything in the wizarding world, everything Harry held dear, and turn it into some horrid place where only the insane prosper. He couldn't abandon Hermione to a life of prejudice, possibly on the run for eternity, while he got the sweet freedom of death. He couldn't leave Ron here alone, having to deal with that hell every time Greyback made his way into this wretched house. He couldn't be so selfish as to abandon the only two people who hadn't abandoned him…

So he bit the fabric hard, riding out this horrid display of monstrous treatment. The satisfied remarks of the men made him sick, and the helplessness made him sicker, but he held on until, rather quickly, Malfoy grunted slightly and warmth flooded inside him. He had come, and the men had seen their show.

Malfoy panted slightly, releasing him and slipping out, making Harry wince with the action as usual. He felt more used this time, and immensely less satisfied. It was shocking that he would actually prefer the old treatment.

"There, you've had your fun. Get out, and quit staring at my cock," Malfoy said flatly. He sounded almost bored.

"Just leave the boy hanging like that, Malfoy?" said the gruffer man. "Tisk tisk. Where's the manners?"

"He doesn't like it, so it's pointless," Draco said simply.

Harry felt slightly ashamed when he knew outright that this wasn't true. Though, it certainly should be…

"Bet I could get 'im off," said the other man, sounding rather too eager.

"First of all, I doubt you can even get yourself off," Malfoy jabbed, and Harry almost laughed in delirium. "Second, I know that it won't stop there, and I'm not letting your diseased body anywhere near him. I'm not catching whatever the bloody hell you've managed to acquire over the years…"

"Ain't caught nothin'," said the man, though his nasty chuckling didn't make him sound very believable.

Harry felt a thrill of panic yet again, hoping dearly for Malfoy's protection. Somehow, this thought alone made him realize he was doomed.

"Yeah, right. Anyways, he doesn't like it, so back off."

"That prick of his seemed to say otherwise," said the big man.

Harry tried to get his heart to stop beating so fast. It was rather difficult to think of that, though, when there was currently a discussion two feet away involving his involuntary erection and who was supposed to be touching it next. If either of those men came near him, Harry was throwing the 'no talking' rule out the window. He had half a mind to do it now, really, but Malfoy's threat still hung in his mind. Apparently the stream of obscenities ready to burst forth would have to wait.

"Back away!" Malfoy snarled, and Harry jumped slightly at the sudden outburst. "I said you don't get to touch him! Get the bloody hell out of my room!"

"Fine, little ungrateful wanker…"

Mercifully, Harry heard two set of footsteps gradually making their way out of the room, and the door slammed rather forcefully. Malfoy gave a great sigh, and seemed to relax.

Then there was silence.

"Look…er…I'm sorry, okay?" he finally said. The words sounded foreign in his aristocratic voice.

"Who were they?" Harry managed.

He felt Malfoy roll off of him, a disturbing amount of flesh-on-flesh contact, until he felt the bed dip beside him and the weight disappear from his body. Malfoy sighed again, though this time contentedly.

"Two blokes my father has watch me when he's away. He says they're the most trusted, but he doesn't know that they try to shag me every time they're here."

"Perhaps it's something worth mentioning," Harry said bitterly.

"I can hold my own," Malfoy replied. It sounded as if he had shrugged as well, but Harry couldn't be sure.

More silence.

"How's your arse?" Malfoy said suddenly. It sounded as if he were merely asking the time.

Harry spluttered.

"Sore, thank you," he shot.

"Want me to heal it?" Malfoy said, rather gently. Okay, this was way too strange.

Harry blushed at the question, however. The thought of having Malfoy inspect his arse for reasons other than sexual fulfillment seemed almost worse than what had just transpired. It gave the impression that Malfoy could do whatever he bloody wanted. If he wanted to be nice, acting the part of the friendly healer, he could do that. If he wanted to hold Harry down and force him to have sex, he could do that too. All of it was so confusing, and Harry had had enough. Enough pain, enough uncertainty, enough struggling with feelings about this stupid blond. He just wanted to hate Malfoy like he always did, and have things turn back to normal.

Well, the bit about Ron he could keep, but not all this other shit.

"It's fine," Harry muttered, not wanting his bloody help anymore

"Fine then," the weight next to him disappeared. Harry could hear the rustling of fabric and some shuffling around, but what Malfoy was doing exactly, he couldn't be sure. "Going to the loo."

Well, there was his explanation. Would it have been too much to ask if he could bloody untie him before he left? However, his prepared snarky comment on the matter was never put to use, because the sound of a latch clicking signaled Malfoy's absence.

It took Harry a few moments of silence to realize that the sound hadn't been from the bathroom door.

Author's Note Again: So what is Malfoy playing at? Was what he did right for Harry? Should he be pardoned, or is he really just a jerk? And, where the hell is he going? I'd like to hear your guys' thoughts, especially on whether or not you think Malfoy is truly good, or just an ass. Ohhhhh, the mysteries...