Hi All,

This was supposed to be a one shot but I got a bit carried away. Blame it on the Drarry. I'd really appreciate reviews so I know whether to continue. This fic is sort of my baby so tread gently :)

Warnings: Very mature content, long chapters, slash and homosexual content

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters created by JK Rowling.


It was a well accepted fact among students that the Gryffindor common room was one of the cheerier places to be in Hogwarts. There was laughter, sunshine (enchanted or otherwise) and if Fred and George were around, a Nosebleed Nougat or Puking Pastille was always within reach. Today that rule didn't quite apply. Today was a day of mourning. A tragedy had struck and no one was unaffected. The tension was palpable, the red and golden décor of the common room almost buzzing with tremors of discomfort and disappointment. The sixth years whispered furiously, the fifth years speculated what went wrong, the fourth years discussed plans for revenge, the third and second years muttered in sombre tones and as always nobody cared enough to see what the first years were doing.

In the middle of all this, sat the people most central to the issue- the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Seven figures dressed in red and gold, splattered with mud, each mourning the Great Gryffindor Tragedy (as it will henceforth be known) in his or her own way. Katie Bell scowled at the fireplace as if it had recently danced on her dead grandmother's grave. Ginny Weasley was grinding her teeth and muttering about Bat Bogey Hexes, alarmingly at the same time. Dean Thomas was busy decapitating chocolate frogs with a sharpened quill and Ronald Weasley…well Ronald Weasley had apparently had enough of mourning.

"We lost the Cup," he intoned bitterly; his voice that of a man who has seen pain like no other "to the Slytherins". The announcement sent a visible shudder through the room. Colin Creevey got up and left, apparently unable to stand it anymore. Nobody blamed him.

Ginny stopped her gnashing and glared at her brother. "Go on, salt the wound. That should help" she snapped. Nevertheless she too hissed, with a faraway look in her eyes "The Slytherins". The words were spat out like a vomit flavoured Bertie Bott bean.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Being one of the less Quidditch crazy people in Gryffindor was hardly good for one's social life, but at least she wasn't killing herself over a game. "Let's not go overboard here," she tried reasonably. "It was a match. They won fair and square. Can we all be adults now?"

Ron stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time and not particularly enjoying it. "I think we need to see other people, Hermione" he said quietly. The witch rolled her eyes and returned to writing her essay.

"Did they, though?" Katie demanded, suddenly turning back to the little group. Her eyes held the promise of revelation and the Gryffindor common room went silent as she spoke.

"Did they what though?" Dean asked

"Did they win 'fair and square'? I mean, since when have Slytherins ever done anything 'fair and square'?" she asked, emphasizing her point with air quotes "I don't know how many of us were paying attention to the Snitch seeing that we were too busy trying to get a shot at the Quaffle, but I could have sworn I saw Draco Malfoy pull out a wand right before he caught the Snitch. Did anyone else get that?"

"He did WHAT?" Ron and Ginny bellowed simultaneously. The common room went up in an absolute uproar, the words 'Slytherins", 'cheaters' and 'rematch' echoing over and over again. Hermione gave up trying to review her essay. "You saw him with a wand?" she asked Katie incredulously "You think he spelled the Snitch or something?"

"Sounds right up Malfoy's alley to me," Dean agreed enthusiastically.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Katie sighed. "But we can't prove it, you know."

"But you saw him!"

"And his teammates will swear up and down that he played fair. It's their word against ours"

"We should still ask for a rematch," Ron insisted.

"We can't without valid reason," Ginny mumbled. "Merlin, I wish you'd said something earlier, Kay"

"I wasn't sure! I was really far away anyway. Besides, I could be completely wrong"

"Well, maybe someone else saw him. Who was closest to Malfoy when he caught the Snitch?" Hermione prodded

Ron snorted. "Merlin, Hermione. Obviously, Harry was. He was trying to catch the Snitch too, you know. Hey, maybe he saw Malfoy! Oi Harry!" He turned excitedly to the armchair Harry always occupied. It was empty. Ron frowned. "That's funny," he mumbled. "I could have sworn he came with us."

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe he's drowning his sorrows somewhere. I wouldn't blame him". There were murmurs of agreement all round, and as the wounded lions schemed to get even with their Slytherin nemeses, the missing Seeker was forgotten.

HPDMHPDMHPDM

Draco Malfoy hummed a happy tune as he sauntered down the lonely corridors of Hogwarts. It had been a good day. Hell, it had been a spectacular day. Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup. That, quite frankly was the dream. And he was the man of the hour. He had been the one to catch the Snitch, sending them straight in to the lead. Yes, Draco Malfoy was one happy camper.

And the best part of it was that he had done it right under Potter's nose. Draco chuckled to himself. The Gryffindork's face had been priceless. He doubted if Potter had ever looked so furious. For a minute there, Draco actually thought he had seen what had happened. But Boy Wonder hadn't said a thing. He had only stared at Draco in a blank, imperceptible sort of way and left with the other Gryffindor buffoons.

As for what Draco had allegedly done, well that was a separate matter. The Slytherin Seeker was well aware that, it was…customary to play games fairly, but in his defence there were no rules about say taking a wand to a Quidditch game and hypothetically summoning the Snitch when no one was looking. Not that Draco would ever, ever do such a thing. That would be wrong. Still grinning to himself, the blonde turned a corner.

He was immediately hit by a flash of blinding light, straight in the chest.

The only thing that Draco was aware of when he finally came to was that his chest hurt. He coughed, wincing as the pain dulled. What the hell…? He had been hexed. The sudden realization sent him into a fit of alarm and he reached frantically for his wand. It wasn't in his pocket. The blonde's heartbeat quickened. This wasn't good. He was vulnerable, lying on the floor like this. He had to get up. He stood up shakily, trying to figure out what had happened but there wasn't enough time. As soon as he was on his feet, something happened and his lower limbs gave way sending him reeling to the floor again.

He tried again, resolving to be steadier on his feet this time. But as soon as he was up, he was brought back crashing to his knees again. It was like an invisible force was tripping him, with all intentions of keeping him down. Draco was completely confused. What the hell was going on?

"Go ahead, try again. I dare you"

Draco started. He knew that voice. He hated that voice! "Come on out, Potter," he all but snarled, still sitting on his haunches, uncomfortably aware of his flushed cheeks. Potter would pay for this humiliation!

The Gryffindor stepped out of the shadows leisurely, surveying his handiwork with a dark, amused expression that Draco was completely unused to. Suddenly he was filled with a vague sense of foreboding.

"On your knees. I must say that's a good look for you, Malfoy," Potter quipped. He was walking over to Draco, his emerald eyes darker than usual, his lips curved in an amused smirk. The Muggle clothes he wore fit him rather well. Draco noted that he was dressed completely in black. Somehow, that thought just alarmed him more. Potter was twirling a wand in his fingers. Draco's eyes widened. His wand!

"Give that back!" he snapped, trying to get up and lunge for it. The spell sent him crashing to the floor again, and Draco let out a sharp yelp at the pain. His knees couldn't take much more of this.

"It's a rather fun spell, isn't it?" Potter said conversationally. "It took ages to get right. The things I do for you, Malfoy" he added with a long suffering sigh and sat down next to Draco, his long legs splayed in front of the kneeling boy. Potter's black dragon hide boots glinted in the dim light. Draco swallowed, trying to ignore the growing feeling of dread pooling in his stomach

"So, how's my favourite Slytherin today?" Potter asked "Big day, I'm sure?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Draco demanded, not bothering to play along with Potter's façade of politeness.

"A lot of things, if you believe the Prophet," the other replied. Then he turned to Draco, his eyes darkening even more, if it were possible. "But with respect to your situation, I would say that I'm just royally pissed off"

The last two words were drawn out slowly, in a low whisper and Draco saw for the first time, barely controlled fury in the other's face. Potter was crawling closer to him, his face barely inches away. The blonde tried to scramble back, to keep some distance between himself and the furious lion, but the spell had him glued to the ground. He leaned back, only to have Potter pull him back roughly by his collar.

"You're not running away, you little viper," he growled, letting his anger show through "You're going to sit here and tell me how it feels to know you cheated us out of the Cup."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the blonde replied at once, the lie slipping easily from his lips. The response was a resounding slap across his face. Draco gasped, staring in shock. His hand went to his stinging cheek in absolute disbelief. Potter had hit him. The Golden Boy, supposedly all sweetness and light had belted him one straight across the cheek. This was a whole new side to Potter and Draco was suddenly afraid.

"Do not lie to me," the brunette replied, settling against the wall leisurely surveying the shell shocked blonde. "You insult my intelligence. I was right there. I saw you take that wand out and spell the Snitch. Do you deny it?"

"Yes, I fucking deny it!" Draco snapped back, more out of panic this time than anything. He couldn't own up. Merlin only knew what Potter would do if he owned up. "You don't know what you're talking about! You…"

He was cut short by another sharp slap. Draco cried out this time. "Fuck, Potter! Will you stop that?"

"Given the circumstances, I would suggest you call me Sir"

Draco stared. Clearly, the Gryffindor had gone mad. "Now you listen carefully, Scarhead," he intoned furiously "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you today, but no force on earth is going to make me call you 'sir'. Get that through your fucking skull!"

Harry shrugged. "Master, then. I'm really not picky," he continued before giving the flabbergasted blonde any time to argue. "But we can hash out the details later. Right now, I think its time you learnt a little lesson, Malfoy. Cheaters never prosper."

"I didn't cheat…" Draco began, before stopping short "What 'lesson'?" he demanded. That didn't sound good at all.

Harry grinned ferally. "You'll find out soon enough, my little viper." He stood up swiftly, making Draco flinch at the sudden movement. "Now, follow me," he ordered, clearly expecting to be obeyed. Draco was in no mood to be compliant.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. You're fucking crazy!" he snarled, desperately trying and failing to get up.

Harry shook his head, regretfully. "I was hoping you'd be smarter than that," he sighed. "Looks like we're doing this the hard way" He whipped out his wand and cast a Silencio on the blonde. "I'll let you speak again, when I'm sure you'll be more open to reason," he said. Then he put the wand back and pulled out something from his back pocket.

Draco's eyes widened with unmistakable fear. Potter was holding a knife. A knife! He was going to stab him, cut him open. He wanted to scream, he had to scream for help! His heart beat so fast he was sure he was going to pass out and Potter was coming closer. Draco shook his head frantically, trying to move, squirm, anything…and then Potter's hand was in his hair and he jumped back like a frightened animal. If the spell hadn't been holding him down, he would probably have gone right through a window.

"Relax, pet," Harry whispered in his ear. He was crouching next to Draco again, his chest so close to Draco's face that the Slytherin caught the faint scent of soap and aftershave. His free hand was rubbing the trembling boy's back, trying to soothe him, reassure him. "I scared you, did I?" he cooed at Draco, as if he were a frightened bird. "Do you really think I'm going to cut you? Oh Draco…you're going to hurt tonight, but I promise you it won't be anything more than you deserve. It won't be anything permanent. I swear. But you are going to learn a lesson tonight and there is nothing you can do about it. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded slightly, keeping his head down suddenly ashamed of the onslaught of tears. He had been terrified. He was terrified. This was a situation where he had no control. He couldn't move, he had no voice and no possible way to defend himself. And Potter…Potter knew what he was doing. The other boy had never seemed so in control, so dangerous before. Draco saw no option but to obey him. But his eyes still flitted warily to that knife.

Harry seemed to notice his discomfort, because he smiled. "I need you to relax for this. Stay calm, no matter what. Understand?" he ordered, his tongue flicking out at Draco's ear lobe. The boy shivered at the jolt of electricity that went straight to his groin. What was happening to him? Nevertheless, he nodded to show he understood. He shut his eyes tightly, bracing himself for pain. Suddenly the noise of clothes tearing filled the air and Draco's eyes opened wide. Harry methodically cut his robes off in quick economical strips. The noise of rent fabric went through the air and Draco gasped at the sudden burst of cold wind to his chest. He was completely naked, save for his boxers in front of Harry Potter. The humiliation of it was too much. He could feel his cheeks flush and his eyes well up with tears.

Apparently, Potter had no intention of sparing him. The cold blade of the knife was against his skin and before Draco could even register it his boxers had been ripped right off. He was completely naked on the cold floor, kneeling before Potter. If Draco could have died from the sheer humiliation of it, he would have welcomed it.

Harry purred appreciatively. "You're quite a pretty sight, pet." His gaze softened as he surveyed Draco's flushed, tear stained face. He brushed a stray tear away, cupping the blonde's chin as he did. "No more of that," he said firmly. "You know you brought this on yourself, don't you? I told you to follow me, and you refused. That is why you were punished. Now what happens next is completely up to you" He stopped to make sure he had the blonde's complete attention. Draco was holding his breath. Satisfied he continued "You can follow me, and have your punishment. Once it's done, it's done. Or you can refuse again and I will leave you here, naked and immobilized. I'm sure Filch would have no dearth of awkward questions for you…" He watched as Draco quailed at the thought of being left out alone. It was cruel, but he was going to teach the blonde to respect him if it killed him.

"I'm going to remove the Silencio now. And I expect an immediate answer. Understood?" Draco nodded and Harry removed the silencing spell.

"Well, Draco?" he inquired, crossing his arms over his chest imperiously.

"I'll obey you," Draco mumbled

Harry shook his head. "Not good enough, sorry. I'll be on my way now," he turned as if to leave.

"Wait!" Draco yelled, panic ringing clear in his voice. He had no doubt that Potter would leave him here if he so chose. He had to convince him to stay. He had to. The blonde racked his brains, wondering what he could say that would be 'good enough'. It came easily enough; the hard part was saying it. Finally, appealing to his most Slytherin sense of self preservation he mumbled in a barely audible tone

"I-I'll obey you and accept my punishment, M-master" He almost choked on the last word, but Potter seemed pleased. He nodded his head approvingly, eyes glinting with hidden meaning. "Good pet," he purred, his hands slipping back in his pocket. Almost out of nowhere, he pulled out a black collar with silver studs and a leash. Draco cringed as he realised what was going to happen. "No!" he whimpered, as Harry approached him.

The brunette glared. "You're testing my patience, brat," he warned.

"I'm sorry, Master," Draco blurted hastily, his eyes downcast. He didn't even want to think about how easily the phrase had slipped from his lips. Harry seemed to have noticed because he smirked and slipped the collar around the blonde's slender neck, fastening it securely. "Beautiful," he whispered as he fastened the leash with a loud click. Draco felt his face flush just a bit more, if it were possible. He was collared, like an animal. He felt bemused, disoriented and if he were honest with himself, aroused. The shame of it made him shiver.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Harry added, before tugging the leash bringing the blonde harshly down on all fours. The brunette turned to look at him appreciatively, his mouth curling into a satisfied smirk as he surveyed his property cowering before him.

"Heel, pet," he ordered and started walking, tugging the humiliated boy behind him.