A Vial of Submission

Harry was getting rather tired of following Hermione around in the library, but she wouldn't let him out of her sight. Ron had skived off after only fifteen minutes, leaving Harry to fend for himself with a Hermione possessed in her need to know everything about the Draught of Submission.

"Listen, Harry," she said for what must have been the hundredth time. "People who have taken the Draught of Submission have historically been hidden by their families from their worst enemies." She looked thoughtfully at Harry, whose eyes widened under her thoughtful gaze. With a sigh she shook her head. "No, you'd miss too many lessons," she said.

Harry gave a sigh of relief. Whatever scheme she'd dismissed he was pretty sure it involved him being hidden from Malfoy.

A loud crash erupted from the other side of the library. Hermione looked annoyed. "Honestly, can't people be more mature," she said, irritated. She looked over to Madam Pince's desk, but for once, Harry was shocked to see, the woman had abandoned her post.

Another crash, followed by a young girl's squeal of fear, made Hermione stand up. "Come on, Harry," she said grimly, a look of set determination on her face. Harry half pitied the fool who dared disturb Hermione's sanctuary.

Crabbe and Goyle loomed over a cowering Hufflepuff.

"Stay back, Harry," Hermione ordered, drawing out of her wand. "You're vulnerable." Harry hid behind a bookshelf, peeking through the shelves at the scene unfolding.

"You leave that first year alone!" Hermione said, glaring at the Slytherins.

"I'm a third year!" the Hufflepuff squeaked.

Harry watched Hermione wince and he smothered a laugh. Two strong hands gripping his shoulder, however, made all thoughts of laughter fly out of his head.

"Well, well, well," a darkly amused voice purred in Harry's ear. "Look what I've found." Harry shivered and the grip tightened, drawing Harry against his captor's chest. "Like that, Potter?" the voice whispered, squeezing Harry's arse.

Harry nodded, his face flushed in pleasure.

Abruptly the other boy was gone and Harry moaned, distressed. He turned around and gasped when he saw Draco Malfoy leaning against the bookshelf. Draco smirked and raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"It seems the rumors are true then," Draco said softly, fixing a predatory look at Harry. Harry swallowed. "Come with me, Potter," Draco ordered, walking away at a brisk pace.

For the first time since Draco touched him Harry became aware of Hermione calling his name. For a second, Harry didn't know what to do. Then Draco looked over his shoulder at him, and Harry sent Hermione a mental apology before following Draco.

Draco led them through the library, evading Hermione's frantic calls. Harry knew he should feel guilty, but watching Draco's delectable arse as the other boy walked drove any thoughts of guilt from his head.

Draco stopped abruptly at a portrait and whispered a few words before the painting swung open. Any other time, Harry would never have dreamed about following his arch nemesis into an unknown passageway to an unknown destination. Any other time, Harry would have taken a moment to appreciate the fact that Draco knew a secret passage way that not even the Marauders had discovered, but not now. The only thing on Harry's mind was Draco. The feel of Draco behind him, Draco's hot breath in his ear, and Draco touching him.

The passageway was pitch black, and Draco grabbed Harry's wrist in a painful grip, leading the way. Harry thrilled at the contact. His breathing hitched and he heard Draco chuckle.

"Eager, aren't we," Draco murmured. When Harry didn't respond Draco tightened his grip on Harry's hand.

"Yes!" Harry moaned, stumbling after Draco.

Finally, Draco stopped, and they entered a brightly lit room. Harry blinked, black spots appearing before his eyes at the sudden brightness. Draco didn't give him a moment to recover. He slammed Harry against the wall, biting Harry's neck and grinding his hips against Harry's.

Harry moaned with abandon at the feel of Draco's hard cock rubbing against him. When Draco slid his hand down the front of Harry's trousers, Harry arched, whimpering. Draco tugged at Harry's trousers impatiently, and Harry fumbled with his zipper and buttons, his hands trembling. When he was finally naked Draco stepped away from him.

"Turn around," Draco hissed.

Harry obeyed. Draco was standing next to a bed Harry had failed to notice when they first entered the room. Draco was still completely clothed, though Harry could see he was aroused. He bit his lip, suddenly shy.

"Come here, Potter," Draco said. When he got close, Draco pushed Harry halfway down onto the bed. Harry pressed his face into the mattress, overwhelmed. He heard Draco unbuckle his pants and clothes hitting the floor.

Draco got on top of him. "You're a virgin aren't you?" Draco asked, spreading Harry's legs apart with his knee. Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the feel of Draco's bare skin.

"Yes," he said, desire thick in his voice.

"No one's touched you here?" Draco asked, his finger tracing circles around Harry's arse hole.

"No one," Harry gasped. Her heard Draco mutter a spell and Harry clutched the sheets when he felt slickness at his entrance. His hips bucked as Draco pushed a finger inside of him.

"Who do you belong to, Potter?" Draco whispered in Harry's ear. Harry shuddered when Draco's cock pressed against him.

"Y-you," Harry stuttered.

Then, without warning, Draco pushed the full length of his cock into Harry. Harry didn't know if he was moaning or screaming. The pleasure and the pain were one.

"You're mine, Potter," Draco growled, slamming into Harry again. This time, Draco's cock brushed Harry's prostate and Harry whimpered.

"D-don't st-op," Harry begged as the rhythm became more intense.

"Are you telling me what to do?" Draco hissed, stopping.

"No!" Harry gasped. "I'm s-sorry," he babbled. He felt tears prick his eyes. "I'm sorry," he cried as the tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm---"

"It's alright, I forgive you," Draco said, running his hand over Harry's cheek. Harry leaned into his touch and Draco flexed his hips. Harry moaned at the sensation.

Draco moved inside of him and Harry felt the build up to his own orgasm.

"D-Draco!" he cried as he crested.

--

"Ron!" Hermione said shrilly, bursting into the common room.

Ron dropped the Quidditch magazine he'd been reading and looked nervously at Hermione. "Hermione, I--"

Hermione cut him off. "Ron, he's gone!" she cried.

"What?" he demanded, jumping up.

Hermione shook her head, her brown hair swinging across her face. "I lost him in the library. We need the map!"

"But Harry locks his trunk," Ron said as they raced up the stairs.

"Alohamora!" Hermione shouted, pointing her wand at the trunk. Nothing happened. She tried other charms, but none of them worked.

"We've got to go to McGonagall," Hermione said, racing back down the stairs. Ron swore and followed her.

But Professor McGonagall wasn't at her office, or her classroom, and so they went to the teachers' lounge. Professor Snape had answered the door to their frantic knocking and had taken a point from Gryffindor for knocking in a rude manner.

"Well?" he demanded, staring at Ron's red face. He stepped out of the lounge and shut the door behind him.

Ron opened his mouth and then shut it.

"How eloquent," Snape sneered.

"Professor, we need to speak to Professor McGonagall," Hermione said quickly before Ron could say anything.

"She's not here," Snape said.

"But, Harry's in trouble," Hermione cried in dismay. "I lost him in the library, sir. Crabbe and Goyle were harassing a Hufflepuff, and I told Harry to stay away, and then he disappeared!"

Snape's eyes widened fractionally. "Potter slipped your leash, did he?"

Ron's eyes snapped furiously. "We don't have a bloody leash on him," he said heatedly. "We're trying to protect him!"

"Language, Weasley," Snape said lazily. "Five points from Gryffindor." Ron's ears burned even redder than his face, but he shut his mouth.

"You two will return to common room while I look for Potter," Snape ordered.

Ron opened his mouth and Hermione stepped on his foot. "Yes, Professor," she said, dragging Ron away by the elbow.

Once they turned down another hallway Ron shook her off. "How can you just go back to the common room like that!" he demanded.

Hermione flicked an annoyed glance with him. "Because we're not going back to the common room," she said simply.

Ron blinked. "We're not?"

"No," Hermione said grimly. "We're going to get Dobby."

--

Harry Potter didn't want to take off his towel in front of Draco Malfoy, and Draco knew it.

Draco gave Harry a feral smile, making the smaller boy clutch the towel even tighter around his chest. He knew he could just order Harry to strip, and Harry would do it, but Draco didn't like to play nice. He didn't want to make it easy for Harry. He leaned his head against the rim of the Prefects' tub, staring at Harry through the corner of his eye. Harry looked relieved, thinking that Draco's attention was elsewhere, and lowered his towel to his waist. He hesitated before finally dropping the towel to the floor.

"Finally."

Harry flushed and lowered himself into the water, wincing as he sat on the step.

"Sore, Potter?" Draco asked. He suppressed a smile. He loved virgins. Harry had been unbelievably tight, and Draco had taken him hard and fast. He'd brought Harry to the Prefects' bathroom for a bath to soothe Harry's aching arse so that the boy would have at least a sporting chance at being able to sit down the next day.

"Yes," Harry whispered, and Draco felt himself get hard again. He swam towards Harry who was staring at him with wide eyes. Draco settled Harry on his lap, chest-to-chest, and sighed as Harry began to stroke him.

"Good boy," he groaned, fisting Harry's cock. Harry jumped and whimpered in pleasure. He arched his back, his breath coming out in pants and moans. Draco wanted Harry to pump him faster, but knew the water wouldn't change its physical properties just for his pleasure. And yet the slow build up to his orgasm was exquisite torture.

Once again, when Harry came, he called out Draco's name. He slumped forward onto Draco's chest, but didn't stop stroking Draco. When Draco came, it was with a shout.

--

Dobby raced to throw himself headlong into the Gryffindor Common Room fireplace and would have made it if Ron hadn't been expecting it. Dobby struggled against Ron.

"Dobby is a bad house-elf! Dobby is a bad friend to Harry Potter!" Dobby shouted, straining for the fireplace.

"Dobby!" Hermione cried. "Dobby you mustn't. Harry wouldn't want you to do that."

"Do what?"

Ron, Hermione, and Dobby whipped their heads round to the door, where a freshly washed Harry Potter stood staring at them.

"Where have you been?"

"Where the bloody hell did you go?"

"Harry Potter, sir!"

Harry blinked. "Taking a bath," he said.

TBC