Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10178888.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Harry_Potter, Hermione_Granger, Ron_Weasley, Blaise_Zabini,
      Original_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Explicit_Language, BDSM, Slash_sex, Sexual_Content, Alternate_Universe,
      Angst, Tragedy, Drama, First_Time
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-12-28 Completed: 2011-11-11 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 13282
****** Durmstrang Stalker ******
by HPFandom_archivist
Summary
     by SisterGryffin_SisterSlytherin
     The Durmstrang boys are at Hogwarts for the Tri-Wizard Tournament,
     but one in particular was forced to leave his slaves behind. He
     intends to find at least one to enjoy here... who will he pursue and
     force to be his little sub? DISCLAIMERThis story is based on
     characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and her
     various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or
     trademark infringement is intended.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** The Stalker Chooses Victims *****
Author’s Note: Setting is 4th year, shortly after the choosing of the Tri-
wizard Champions. Almost canon, but goes off into its AU from there.
WARNING TO OUR REGULAR READERS! This story will contain detailed and explicit
sexual situations, unlike our other stories. Remember, you have been warned!
-------------------------------------.-.
Ron leaned on the railing of the high bridge that spanned the distance between
the castle and the owlry at Hogwarts. He was in a right foul mood and he was
firm in his belief that he had every right to be pissed off. Every right in the
world…!
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, his supposed best friend; what
a glory hound he was! He had all the fame and glory a bloke could ever want,
and what did he do? He goes and puts his name into the Goblet of Fire to get
chosen as a Tri-wizard champion! He tried to deny that he liked the limelight,
the glory and the fame, but getting chosen as a never-before fourth for the
Tri-wizard Cup just intensified all the attention Harry was getting. Maybe
Draco Malfoy was right, he constantly was saying that Potter refused to stay
out of the focus of the public eye and just loved all that attention.
He glared down into the gorge, eyes focused on the stream far below that
glimmered in the sunlight as it merrily danced its way down the riverbed.
Someone watching might have thought that Ron believed as if it was the fault of
the water somehow that he was so pissed off and that it could put the situation
to rights again. He wasn't speaking to Harry, hadn't had a civil word with him
since the prat had put his name in that cup. And he damned sure had no
intention of doing so. All Harry said was how he was innocent, like Ron was
supposed to believe that…?
Unfortunately Hermione wasn't speaking with Ron either. She didn't have a clue
as to why he was so angry and he was just tired of explaining it to her. He'd
tried to explain time and time again but she kept coming up with the same
arguments; why would Harry do such a thing? Ron simply didn't have the patience
to keep trying to explain, so he felt like right now he really didn't have any
friends at school. It'd already been over a week since he'd talked in a civil
tone to either of them and it had been a damned lonesome time.
His brothers, Fred and George, weren't any help at all. The twins were being
absolute prats; they thought the entire situation was a lark and kept finding
ways to make money off it all. And they were constantly reminding EVERYONE that
Harry was not only the Chosen One, but a TriWizard Champion… and laughing at
Ron every chance they had.
The worst of it all was that Victor Krum… at one time he'd completely idolized
the man; thought he all but walked on water, with his Quidditch expertise and
skill level. It hadn't taken very long for him to realize that he was just a
teenager just like Ron. He had noticed that after only two days at the castle
that pumpkin-headed Krum was following Hermione all over the damned place. The
Bulgarian's constant pursuit of the girl that Ron hoped to someday date or
maybe even marry had really gotten on his nerves…! He had a poster of Krum on
his wall at home; he was going to rip it down and shred it when he got back,
and then burn the bits left over.
"Excuse, please…?" A smooth male voice with a Bulgarian accent spoke near at
hand.
Ron ignored him a moment, but decided better of it. If the speaker were Victor
Krum, he'd gladly take the chance to take out his anger on someone…! He turned;
tensing to throw a punch but saw immediately it was not Victor Krum. Victor was
dark, swarthy, and thickly muscled but this young man, who seemed to be the
same age as Victor, was blonde, tall, and had light brown eyes. He was
muscular, yes, all the Durmstrang students who had come were muscular, but this
fellow was strong without looking overly thick in the same Neanderthal way that
Krum did. Ron didn't care; he was from Durmstrang School and therefore a great
and easy target to snipe at. "What the bloody hell do you want?" He growled,
scowling at him.
"I am seeing you alone out here much, lately." The young man said; his smile
showed he was completely unruffled by Ron's attempt to intimidate him and have
him leave. He moved to the rail as well, leaning on it with his own elbow about
a foot from Ron's. "Always alone, you are."
"Who gives a bloody damn? What business is it of yours? Maybe I like to be
alone." Ron growled, but with less vehemence, turning back to stare out at the
gorge as well.
"I am alone too, but I am not liking to be." The Bulgarian said with a touch of
sadness. "I have no friends here. Karkaroff said they were not worthy to come…"
"And what do you expect me to do about it?" Ron asked crossly. He wasn't really
in much of a mood to be civil to anyone.
The Bulgarian straightened from the rail, giving a soft and reluctant sigh. "I
think now is not a good time. You are in a foul mood. I am not wanting to be
making you angrier; I think I will leave you…"
Ron realized this Durmstrang student was offering him only a hand in
friendship, to have it slapped away by Ron's verbal assaults. He had no one to
talk to, and if he chased this bloke off he'd have no one at all. This guy was
better than nothing; he couldn't talk to Neville or anyone in Gryffindor right
now and he was slowly going mad. He throttled his anger under control and
sighed. "No… no, hang on…" he said, though he remained where he was, staring
out at the water. "It's okay. I'm not all that pissed off, and… well, hell. I'd
like to talk to someone for a while."
The Bulgarian introduced himself with a smart formal bow. "I am Gregor. Gregor
Ptriov." He said.
"Ronald Weasley." He answered, glancing at Gregor, forcing a smile.
The Bulgarian gave him a very friendly and open smile in return as he leaned on
the rail once more. "I am missing my school, Durmstrang." Gregor said, his tone
having a clear tone of melancholy and homesickness. "It is so strange, here…
your country…"
"Tell me what you miss about Durmstrang." Ron suggested. "Maybe it will help
you to feel better." He was more than willing to allow himself to be distracted
from his own situation, which only made him angrier by the day.
"Your country, it is so warm and all fog and wet… Durmstrang is not. It is
bright, and crisp, and cold. We have new snow this time of year and white is
all over the trees and world… We have large castle but different from yours;
girls do not school with boys, not sleep in same castle. Girls have their own
castle, towers to sleep in. I have three mates I room with, and all are left
behind; only I am here…"
"Do you have Quidditch in your school?" He asked.
Ptriov chuckled, a deep throaty sound that was almost infectious. "Yes, of
course we have Quidditch. Where else did Krum learn fly so well? He practices
on our teams for Quidditch all the time."
"Krum." Ron growled, one hand closing in a fist and his body tensing. His body
language was not lost on Gregor. "He's a self-important prat." Ron grumbled,
thinking of the argument he'd had with Hermione that had sent him to the bridge
to sulk today.
He had seen Krum a lot in the past week, but now he was sure the Bulgarian
seeker was very interested in a relationship with Hermione. He showed up
everywhere, making excuses to be in the same room with Hermione even though his
little entourage of five or six giggling girls from Hogwarts and Beauxbatons
was always following him about. He always made a point to say something to
Hermione too, and Ron hated the look of interest she always wore when listening
to the idiot. He hated Krum because he had interest for Hermione, and because
she seemed to be interested in him. Since Ron hadn't had the nerve to ask her
out yet, it made him angrier than ever that Krum seemed not to have any such
problems. Just this morning, in fact, Ron had warned Krum off and told him to
get lost and leave Hermione alone. Hermione had overheard and blown up at him,
then stormed off to the girl's tower where she knew he couldn't follow. He'd
tried to get her to come down but she just wouldn't answer, so he'd come out
here to think… and sulk.
"You are not liking him?"
"No. I don't like him." He grumbled.
"I am not liking him either since he joined the National team. He has become…
how do you say…? Arrogant..."
Ron only grunted his agreement.
"But I am liking to fly, and I am liking Quidditch. I saw plaque in school… you
are not on team, but you have brothers on team?" Gregor said, gazing out at the
sky.
"Yeah, the twins. George and Fred are fifth year, and they're beaters." He
said, sighing. "I haven't tried out for the team yet. I love to play, though. I
practice every chance I get. Ron found he was beginning to relax, warming to
the conversation more than the Bulgarian himself. It was just so damned nice to
be able to talk to someone without worrying about being judged. And he'd been
so lonesome this year…
"It is glorious, to fly." Gregor agreed.
"You have a favorite Quidditch team, Gregor?" Ron asked.
"Yes, but… you will be laughing at me." He said as if this was a common
occurrence. "My friends all watch Krum playing and think I am fool not to want
to watch too."
"Why would I laugh?" Ron asked.
"Is not Bulgarian team I am liking… Is underdog team, but will win; will win
soon…"
"So who are they? Spill it already." Ron couldn't help but half-grin at this
guy's vehemence over his favorite team.
"Chudley Cannons." He said with a half-grimace.
"That's my favorite team!" Ron said immediately to Gregor's surprise, his anger
forgotten for the moment, quite enthusiastic. The conversation between the
seventeen-year-old Bulgarian and the fourteen-year-old Englishman quickly
became a discussion of their favorite players and their moves on the Quidditch
pitch.
After that afternoon chatting with Gregor, Ron found himself wandering to the
bridge every day. And to his delight, his new friend showed up every day.
The first day they chatted on the bridge, but the second they wandered through
the great halls as Ron showed him the sights of the castle. Their conversations
always drifted to Quidditch somehow; but Ron was quite all right with that. It
was a subject he knew quite a lot about, and was rarely wrong. He knew the
players, their stats, and many other details; and Gregor seemed quite
interested in learning and listening to what he had to say.
He found it soothed his wounded pride and made him feel better overall. He
found that with each day he was less angry, having something to look forward
to. Nonetheless, he took savage pleasure in snubbing both Hermione and Harry
daily to go spend time with his new friend. It felt right, and he was really
getting to look forward to meeting him every day.
Blaise frowned, halting as he and Draco were exiting the great hall. He reached
out and caught Draco by the arm, eyes on the top of the stairs, where Ronald
Weasley was coming down with a Durmstrang student, the two chatting like old
friends. "Hey Draco… who the hell is that?" He murmured softly.
Draco had long known of his best mate's long-standing crush on the redheaded
boy, but the sexual preferences of the boy were also well known. Weasley had
expressed a pure and very straight sexual preference, and anyone who had eyes
could see how much attention he paid to that mudblood Grainger even when he was
ignoring her as he seemed to be doing lately. Any approach and offer of sexual
partnership with a male would have met with a shocked denial at least. Blaise
preferred to simply watch and see if there would be a chance for him sometime
in the future.
Draco looked, and shrugged his shoulders. "It's obvious he's one of the
Durmstrang students. I'm not sure who he is."
"He seems to be great friends with Ron." he said softly, jealousy clearly
underlying his tone, his eyes narrowed. "How the hell did he manage that?"
The blonde glanced at his best mate. "Even you've noticed that the Weasel
hasn't been around Potter or Grainger lately." He reminded. "I've seen him up
there on the bridge, muttering curses at that stupid river for hours. He's been
so pissed off at the world in general because Potter was chosen as a Tri-wizard
Champion." Draco said, rolling his eyes. "You know, Blaise; this might be the
perfect time to get him talking to you, too. After all, that bloke got him
talking and surely you have more in common with the Weasel than he does." Draco
suggested thoughtfully. "Or maybe that bloke would talk to Ron for you. Take a
look at his badge. He's in the house they have that's the same as our
Slytherin…"
"That's a thought, I'll… I'll think about it…" Blaise murmured thoughtfully as
he watched the two stop on the stairs a moment. He felt jealousy rise within
his heart, a cold yet very familiar feeling when it came to anyone chatting
with the red-haired boy. He could see clearly the little gestures and hear in
the tone of the Durmstrang boy an air of seduction. Weasley was either
completely taken in or had no idea it was happening to him; most likely he had
no clue. He had not even noticed anything when Blaise had talked to him the few
times he had worked up the nerve, so the redhead probably had no clue. But it
was also clear that it wouldn't be long, if he read what he saw right, before
something happened between the two. And Blaise couldn't stand the thought of
that.
Gregor looked over, seeing the two Slytherins watching him and Ron; he flashed
them both his most charming smile. He knew damned well he was handsome and that
dark-skinned boy was watching them both very closely. Both those two were quite
beautiful too; his time here at Hogwarts really would be an enjoyable one if he
played his cards right.
The teachers, especially Karkaroff, were far too busy watching Krum to pay any
mind to what games he might be playing. Before it was time to leave here he
intended to have at least one and perhaps two new little slaves to tend to his
needs, begging their parents to transfer just to share time with him.
Ron glanced at the time. "Oh bloody hell; I gotta go, Greg… See you at dinner
again?"
"My pleasure, my friend." Gregor smiled, and then leaned on the stair railing
to watch Ron leave, hurrying up the stairs to get to the third floor. He
couldn't wait to get hold of that bum…
Blaise glanced at Draco, making up his mind and gathering his courage. "I'll be
along…" Draco nodded and moved off, Crabbe and Goyle closely behind him like
two protective monoliths.
He moved up the stairs toward the where the Bulgarian stood, still leaning with
his back on the rail, watching where Ron had vanished to. "Hello." He began.
Gregor looked at him, his smile growing. These Hogwarts students were quite
easy to get to, and the ones who approached him were so perfectly young.
"Hello." He greeted. He liked them young.
"I…" he gathered himself. "I take it you're Ron's friend?" He asked softly.
"Yes, Ron Weasley is friend of mine. We are seeing each other every day, and
will be having dinner together too." Gregor answered smoothly, detecting
jealousy from this young boy. Ah, this boy would be a far easier target, if
only he could draw him in. He'd worked on Weasley a full week and so far had no
success in seducing the boy. Ron saw nothing of his carefully laid out
seductions and he simply could not seem to get Weasley alone in a place he felt
comfortable to make his move.
"I… okay. I should…" Blaise felt defeated; he had thought to make his move
finally but it was clearly too late.
"Are you wanting to be joining Weasley and myself?" He asked slyly.
Blaise looked up at him, startled. Had it been that obvious? And had this young
man really been with Ron, sexually…? "Um… yes… Yes, I would…"
"I shall talk of you to him. See what he thinks. Ronald does not feel open to
much, if you know of what I am speaking…" he said suggestively. The jealousy
now clear in this young Slytherins eyes made it clear to him; he wanted to be
the redhead's lover and thought he was already "in", so to speak. He could use
this, oh yes…
Blaise blushed a bit, and then nodded. "Yes… please do. I'm Blaise Zabini, by
the way…"
"Blaise… a good, strong name. You are… how do you say, beautiful young man. I
am Gregor Ptriov."
"Talk to him for me, would you Gregor…? I'd really, really be grateful…"
He was counting on that gratitude to get some pleasure of his own. "Is no
problem. You are lonely; I can help ease loneliness. I am understanding …" he
said, reaching to touch Blaise's hand.
Blaise hesitated, looking at the boy. Gregor was sending out clear signals that
he was more than receptive to same-sex relationships. A quick relationship, no
strings, was always welcome, a distraction from his constant longing to be with
Weasley.
"You know of private place we can go…? To talk…" he suggested.
Blaise gave him a small smile. "Sure… let me show you the Slytherin locker
room." He suggested. The two moved off, silent for a while as they walked. "Um…
Gregor...? How did you meet Ron?"
Gregor smiled a very attractive smile. "Weasley needed a friend and I was
there… we talked and now am friends. It is nice to have friend here." he said
as they moved to the Quidditch pitch. Blaise led him on into the locker room,
showing him about.
Gregor halted, catching a glimpse of some movement in a side room. He moved
over to find himself looking at a life-size poster on the wall of Ron standing
just outside a shower, steam billowing about behind him, laughing and body
glistening with water, wrapping a towel about himself. The timing of the
wizarding photograph gave no actual view of what was under the pink towel, just
a glimpse of bare hip and thigh all the way up, quickly covered by the towel as
the Gryffindor laughed. Gregor stared a long moment. "This is Weasley…?"
"Um…yeah." Blaise agreed, eyes lingering on the picture he'd put up to tease
the team and they had insisted that he leave it there as a good luck charm. He
thought half the damn team had a thing for Ron, too bad he was so damned
straight…
"He should wear clothing that is fitting better to his body…" Gregor said, more
determined than before that he would get his hands on that boy.
"That's just not what Ron does." Blaise said, sighing softly.
Gregor looked at the younger boy and reached to him, stroking a finger down his
arm. "It is what I do. And I do more, Blaise… you help ease my loneliness…?" He
offered, eyes lingering on Blaise's lips.
Blaise hesitated, looking up at the taller boy. Gregor touched his face,
leaning in to give him a kiss. The younger boy did not shy away and he kissed
him softly, not willing to push this too far just yet. He pulled Blaise's body
against his own hard muscled one, keeping the kisses slow and very gentle. Oh
yes, gentle for now. But he would soon do as he wished with no restraint, once
he had this one where he wanted him.
A few kisses, a few little pets to see exactly what type of little slave this
dark-skinned little Slytherin could be and he would let him alone, this time.
He would bide his time; when he got the redhead in his bed it would be time to
reel this one in as well. He would have two toys when all was said and done.
***** The Stalker Chooses Victims *****

Author's notes: Two students from Hogwarts are now targets for the stalker from
Durmstrang... the teachers are far too busy with the TriWizard cup to even
notice what he is up to. Perfect.
===============================================================================
Gregor and Blaise walked back toward the castle much later, Gregor quite
satisfied and pleased with himself. "I talk to you later, no?"
"Yeah, sure. Will I be having dinner with you and Ron?" he asked hopefully; if
he could get to know the Gryffindor maybe, just maybe…
Gregor shook his head. "Oh, no; I must being speaking with Ron about you first,
yes? Build him up so you and he can being friends too."
"Oh, okay…" Blaise felt disappointed, but not too badly so. He headed inside,
feeling hopeful. If being around Gregor could get Ron to unbend, then Blaise he
had a chance to get to know Ron on a much more personal level. Maybe he could
even break through the wall he'd seen for himself that Ron put between himself
and every male in the school except for Harry. And he doubted that Harry and
Ron would ever take their friendship to THAT level…
-.
Days passed.
Gregor continued to meet with Ron during the day, using every method he had in
his considerable arsenal to seduce the boy. Every night he would meet with
Blaise, cuddle a bit and kiss and fondle but he had not gone any further. He
would have been content with the young dark-skinned wizard if the redhead had
not caught his eye first. He could not help but think that it would be even
better if he could drag the redhead into the situation; then he could reveal
his true masochistic nature to these little boys and teach them how to be good
little sex slaves. Once he had them turned, they would be quite obedient and
would fight any efforts to be taken from him as his last lovers had been.
-.
Gregor and Ron enjoyed dinner out on the grounds, with several students and
even teachers wandering about. It was still warm, and a pleasant evening to
relax out beneath the shade of the trees with the castle framed against an
azure sky dotted with clouds.
Gregor was growing impatient; he'd never had to work so hard to get someone in
his bed before and he was growing tired of the effort he'd put into Weasley.
Why wouldn't this boy see him somewhere private? He did not require the consent
of the boy to take his pleasure; when he was done he knew that he would have
everything he desired and Weasley would tell no one. If he did it well, the boy
would beg for it to happen again.
"…and then he did the Wronski feint and oh Merlin it was genius…!" Ron was
spouting about Quidditch again, not noticing that the older boy didn't look at
all interested this time.
"I have idea." Gregor spoke up after Ron had finally wound down. They had long
ago finished eating and put everything back in the basket Ron had carried out.
"You have not been showing me the Quidditch pitch." He said. "Let us go there."
He suggested.
Ron glanced at him. "We've been out there five times already. Nothing really
changes out there, you know. And you told me you saw in the Slytherin locker
room already…"
"I am wishing to see Gryffindor team locker room." He said as he put on his
wolfish grin, his tone deep and suggestive.
Ron looked confused, not picking up the suggestion at all. "Why? They're all
the same… hell, Slytherin's probably got a bloody hot tub in their locker room,
and it's probably a lot nicer than ours."
"I am wanting to see. Wanting to see. With you." He said, putting as much
sexual, sensual tone into the words that he could.
"Can't mate…not today." Ron said, rising to his feet.
Gregor looked stunned. Had Ron actually not heard him? "You are going?
Already…? Is early, not to leave so soon…"
"Can't help it mate; I gotta go. I have a load of homework and its due
tomorrow, I really have to get started on it or old Snape is gonna hex me…" he
said, dusting himself off.
The older boy sat up straighter. "Is no problem, just bring homework and I will
help. I have taken such classes already…"
"That's really tempting but no… no thanks. Hermione would never talk to me
again if I did that, and she's pissed off at me enough lately…" he answered
"Ron, you must show me locker room…!" Gregor reached for him, catching his
hand, eyes intense and angry, still seated but starting to rise.
Ron looked more confused, as well as a little angry and frightened. He snatched
his hand back out of Gregor's grip. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you
Gregor? I don't have to show you the locker room. I don't bloody well have to
do anything!"
"You will not be brushing me off, Ronald Weasley! You are seeing nothing; I
will open eyes for you…!" He grabbed for him again and Ron dodged the older
teen, taking several steps back.
Ron stared at him with an odd look, still backing off, well out of reach now
and totally confused. "Look, I don't bloody well know what the hell's your
problem right now but I'm not part of it. You really need to get off the
caffeine or something, mate. I have to go." He said, moving away quickly.
Gregor scowled, watching him go, subsiding to a seat in the grass, his fists
clenched in anger. He'd been quite intrigued by the young Gryffindor but had
grown impatient waiting to get him. He'd plied the boy with wine, given him
aphrodisiacs in his drinks, used every sexual trick to arouse or interest him,
even tried to steer the conversation to sex.
He'd done everything except drop his pants in the young man's presence and
really had gotten no reaction, no realization, nothing from him, at all. Ronald
Weasley was either one of the densest young men he'd ever met when it came to
sexual contact or he had one hell of a strong attachment to someone else.
His conversations with the boy had made it clear that he hadn't been with
anyone, and that made him even more desirable as one that no one else had
managed to touch. He could bend him to be what he wanted him to be… if he could
only get hold of him… he'd moved too fast today. He sighed irritably and pulled
a scrap of parchment from his robes and composed a quick note to Ron.
Ron – Mate. I do not know what came over me, please accepting apology from me
for actions today. I do not want to being lose you for friend; I enjoy company
of you and hope to stay friends for long time. Please to meet me tomorrow on
bridge…?
Gregor signed the note, and then read it over before rising. He'd send the
message and Ron had better be there… he was so gullible and forgiving he
doubted the redhead would even think twice about not coming. He smiled to
himself, planning. He had only to find a private place… Only two days until the
first trial for the TriWizard cup. His conversations with Ron had led him to
understand that the reason he wasn't talking with his friends was that this
Harry Potter had put in his name as the fourth contestant.
Ron would soon be much more noticeable than Harry Potter, once Gregor had
finished with him. He could picture in his head; Ron with a collar about his
throat, wearing whatever Gregor deemed he should be garbed in that day. Smiling
widely, he moved toward the owlry. He would not be able to reach Ronald but an
owl always could. And tonight he had plans anyway. He was going to start
working on his other mark, the young dark-skinned wizard…
Ron read the note, seated in the common room. He'd been really weirded out by
the way that Gregor had acted… he wasn't sure what the hell the Bulgarian had
wanted, but he was sure of one thing; he hadn't wanted any part of it. Gregor
knew he'd been an ass and was apologizing; at least he knew it was wrong. Well,
maybe… He glanced up as Harry came into the room through the portrait of the
fat lady. He felt his hopes rise; it was almost torture not talking at all to
Harry for the past several weeks…
Harry scowled at him. "What are you looking at?" He asked crossly; he'd been
harassed by several people up the halls and stairs with "Potter STINKS" badges
and wasn't in the mood for anything.
Ron couldn't help it; he immediately bristled back. "Not a bloody thing that
means anything to me." He shot back, intending to hurt Harry's feelings,
turning away from him, hand closing on the note, crumpling it in his fist..
"Doesn't surprise me much you're being such a twit." Harry snarled back at him.
"You've been hanging around with that bloke from Durmstrang so much; you may as
well transfer schools…"
"Sod off, Potter!" He snapped, not looking back at him, glaring at the flames
in the fire. He wasn't about to tell him or let him know how much being snubbed
by him and Hermione had hurt him.
"Gladly." Harry whirled and stormed up the stairs.
Ron glared after him, angry and having no way to vent it again. And he had to
sleep in the same dorm room it was about to drive him insane. Growling, he got
to his feet and stormed toward the entrance.
"Ron…?" Hermione's soft voice came from the top of the stairs.
Great; just what he wanted right now. "What, Hermione?" he asked sharply.
"Please tell me you tried…?" she asked from the entrance to the girl's dorm.
"Ron please…"
He whirled, glaring at her angrily. "Why the bloody hell are you always
harassing me to be nice to HIM? Why don't you harass HIM to be nice to ME?" Ron
growled at her. "I'm not the only one who needs to think about what they bloody
well say!"
"Ronald, please…" Hermione began.
"You can bloody well bugger off too!" He snapped, moving out of the room. He
didn't care if he got in trouble; he was damned sure going for a walk. He
needed to cool off and wear himself out so he could sleep in the same room with
that glory-hog. If nothing else he would find a place to sleep down in the
common room.
-.
Blaise, seated in the great hall, saw Ron stalk in and sit before one of the
great fireplaces that lined the sides of the hall. He felt an urge to go talk
with the boy, but his foul attitude made it clear he wouldn't accept any
friendly overtures. He'd been snapped at enough by him. Anger wasn't what he
wanted, not at all. He wondered what had happened.
He watched as Ron's foul mood chased off three Gryffindors who were just trying
to help him; Ron snapped at them and they drifted off, leaving him to sit
alone.
Draco nudged him. "Go on. He's there without the others. Even that Gregor
fellow isn't about. Go. I bet he would really like someone to talk to…"
Blaise hesitated, and then shook his head. "Its not the right time, Dray, I
can't. Not today…"
"If not today, then when?" Draco asked. "You've been waiting four years, mate!"
he said in a slightly exasperated tone.
"For the same reason you don't approach the one you care for." Blaise answered
easily, knowing Draco's secret crush which he would never reveal. "Besides,
he's not in the mood to talk."
Draco smirked at that comment. "Talking isn't what you have in mind and you
know it."
"Draco, hush!" Blaise smirked. His attention was drawn over to the redhead
again when he rose and stomped out of the room, and Blaise half-chuckled. "See?
Wrong time…"
"Maybe this time. But you never told me how it went with that Durmstrang
fellow…"
"I'm seeing him tonight. He's… well, he's interesting…"
"You don't think he's actually BEEN with Weasley, do you?" Draco asked quietly;
the other students were far enough away that no one would hear his soft
question.
"I… he says he has but I don't know." Blaise said softly back.
"You've been seeing him a lot lately, haven't you, that Gregor?"
"Yes… but its nothing to worry about… he won't be here forever…" Blaise
reassured. "You know where my heart lies, my friend."
"Yes, I know. Although I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what attracts
you to the redhead…"
***** The Stalker Strikes! *****

Author's notes: The dominant student from Durmstrang grows more frustrated with
his inability to get hold of his chosen victim. Who will he take his
frustration out on?
===============================================================================
WARNING - THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS BONDAGE AND NON-CONSENSUAL SEX SCENE.
Gregor stood in the middle of the bridge, just where he'd seen Ron that first
day, leaning on the rail. Surely Ron wouldn't just leave him standing here, and
not show up. Ron would come… he didn't think he had misjudged that young man so
badly… He saw movement from the corner of his eye and smiled faintly, cheering
his own cleverness. Ron had, after all, come to see him.
Ron moved to the rail also, intentionally leaving one of the pillars between
them, staring down at the waters. He said nothing, feeling awkward and uneasy.
"I am sorry to be acting so odd." Gregor said after the moments of silence
stretched. "I was having bad news from home; my brother is sickly and I cannot
be returning until after the World Cup… I was wanting some comfort from you is
all… we are very… physical… in our comfort in my country…"
"Oh… well… I guess that's okay…" Ron murmured thoughtfully. "I can understand
that, but… well, I'm not into that. I just… its just not done here…"
"Of course it is. You are just not seeing it is done." Gregor returned. "You
must being opening your eyes."
"I don't do it." Ron said. "Hugging and that… birds do that. Men don't do
that."
"You have strange concepts of what is manly." Gregor smirked. "Manly is just
you, doing what comes natural. Is natural to give love and have physical
contact…"
Ron sighed, clearly sounding angry again. "That's why I'm so angry all the
time… I WANT to do that…"
Gregor saw his opening and pounced on it. "You do…? I will gladly…"
"…with Hermione…!" He finished in a frustrated tone as if he had not even heard
Gregor, not looking his direction, glaring off at the distant clouds. It might
snow again this afternoon; the weather had taken another turn for the worse.
The Durmstrang boy scowled. "With Hermione…? But you do not wish to being with
her…"
"I do! I just… I can't." He sighed, looking down.
Gregor allowed the silence to stretch again for a few moments before speaking
again. "Iam seeing you are angered and tense again today…"
"After you and I… I mean, when I got back to Gryffindor tower I had a row with
Harry… and with Hermione too." He sighed softly. "I feel like an ass today… I
shouldn't have been so cross with them, none of this crap is really their
fault…"
"If they are making you so angry all the time they are not truly being your
friends. You need true friends like I am being good friend always here for
you…" he said, moving around the pillar to stand close to Ron. Gregor had paid
extra attention to his grooming for this particular meeting; he had made
certain his hair was perfectly combed to show off its natural waves and he had
donned his best silken shirt and tight fitting slacks. It was abundantly clear
to his companions on the ship that Gregor was moving in for the kill. None of
them were upset to see that, actually quite glad to not have to worry about
him. He didn't care though; he wasn't interested in any of them. They weren't
malleable enough for his purposes. He wanted young slaves to train to please
his every desire.
As a final touch he had put on his special cologne, made for him at great
expense by a witch back home. It worked with his body chemistry and only
increased the attractiveness of the aroma the longer he wore it. He was certain
it was laced with a love potion, for every time he wore it he always got what
he was looking for from those he pursued. He wore it only rarely because each
bottle cost over fifty galleons, but for hard cases like this Weasley boy it
would be well worth the cost.
"You're a good friend, Gregor, but… I really…" Ron suddenly felt uncomfortable
being near Gregor, feeling odd and slightly dizzy.
"We need to find place to be alone, place to talk. Always we are meeting where
others are coming, always out in open, always where others can listen. I need
to be talking to you Ron, private things, I need to talk to you…" he said
softly, tone seductive, leaning in close to let Ron get the full effect of the
potion and its almost narcotic effects.
Ron breathed deeply in a sigh, but Gregor was shocked to see the English boy
shaking his head in refusal. "I just… I don't want to Gregor. I can't do
whatever it is you're asking, I guess…"
Gregor ran his hand up Ron's arm, keeping his tone soft and seductive. "You
can. Just let yourself go. Come with me to quiet place near lake. Talk with me
Ron… I need to speak of my brother, to get you hearing me clear…" he was
confused; his cologne had never failed him!
Ron simply stepped back, out of the range of his hypnotic cologne. "You know,
Gregor, you need to talk to Karkaroff or someone else about all of that. I
really couldn't tell you what to do and I don't have a clue how you feel; I
have five brothers and I only barely get along with half of them. They're just
a royal pain in the ass…"
"I am not wanting you to be telling me what to do, I am wanting you to be
listening to me!" He growled, growing frustrated and letting his frustration
show.
"I think I was right yesterday…" Ron said softly, taking another step back. He
could see a tic starting to twitch just below Gregor's left eye. "Its just… I
really have to concentrate more on my studies and get back to my classmates and
you really need to be with blokes of your year, not some fourth year from
Hogwarts…" he tried to explain how he was feeling, trying quite hard to get the
feeling across without using hurtful words. He had no idea why Gregor was
getting so totally pissed off, his hands even forming into fists.
"You must be listening to me, Ronald! I am liking spending time with you. You
are…"
"I have to go." Ron said, moving away.
Gregor watched him walk away, eyes wide with disbelief. What the hell had just
happened? This had never happened to him before…
-.
Blaise picked his way carefully down the steep path that curved around the
lake. He knew where he was to go; he had met Gregor down at the cabin twice
already. They had shared a few meals here, lunch once and dinner the next time
but had simply talked and gotten comfortable with each other. Gregor had been
easy to talk to and he seemed to be quite understanding of the situation Blaise
found himself in. He seemed open and compassionate and kind, and interested in
anything that Blaise had to say about Ron.
He paused, pulling the note he had received from Gregor just an hour ago had
said that he would finally introduce him to Ron tonight. Maybe things would
finally come together for the two of them; he had had a crush on the redhead
since he saw him that first day on the train. It was clear to him that Gregor
was homosexual; the way he spoke about Ron he had gotten the redhead to do more
than just talk. He wasn't sure but he couldn't help but get his hopes up.
He slipped the note back into his pocket, turning his attention back to the
trail. The snow had started to fall about half an hour ago and there was a
light layer upon the ground again; the sky was dark grey and getting darker as
the sun headed for the horizon. The snow was beginning to fall heavier and
would soon cover his footsteps as he made his way down the path.
The cabin was built on a rocky outcrop behind the owlry and the path bad enough
on a clear day but in the snow it was hard to see exactly where to put his feet
to keep from slipping. Finally he could see the cabin ahead; it looked like a
ramshackle little thing that was no more than an outhouse but was actually
sturdy and roomy inside.
Someone had trampled most of the layer of snow on the ground that had fallen in
the past hours; the size of the bootprint looked to be Gregor's. Was he
pacing…? Something must be wrong.
He quickened his pace a bit, climbing over the difficult trail to get to the
tiny hut. He knew he wasn't supposed to be so close to the forbidden forest; if
he got caught he'd surely be in detention no matter what Severus did for him as
a Slytherin. It would safe enough; the grounds were being watched so closely
surely it would be all right.
When he opened the door he immediately noticed several things; the room was not
the quaint little room it had always been before. It had always looked like a
hotel room and there had been dainties and food to eat. Now it looked like a
dungeon. Chains hung from the ceiling and several pillars stood in the center
of the room with chains hanging from them. There was drink, yes, alcohol on the
table of several different Russian varieties.
Gregor was dressed stunningly, seated on the throne-like chair beside the
simple bed on the floor, one leg flung over the arm of the chair. He was
dressed in a white silk shirt and tight black pants of the old style that
sported a codpiece with a skull on it with glinting ruby eyes. He wasn't
smiling; his expression was blank, his face like chiseled stone. He held a
half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. There was something different about
Gregor tonight…
He stepped in to glance about and look for Ron; he did not see him but was
stopped dead in his tracks. He had to grip the knob of the door to support him
as a wave of dizziness washed over him, making his knees feel weak and his head
spin as if he were drunk. He found his mind went to Ron, and all the things he
would love to do with the young Gryffindor. If only Ron would agree to be his…
He blinked, trying to clear his head and pull his mind back to the present. Ron
wasn't here. "Greg…?" he murmured, looking over.
"I tire of waiting. You are late to being here with me tonight." He growled,
eyes narrow.
"Sorry; I had to get some homework done…"
Gregor seemed to move at an incredibly fast pace; he was up out of the chair
and over to Blaise's side in a heartbeat. He kicked the door closed and seized
the younger boy, pulling him in against his hard body and kissing him
demandingly.
Blaise was almost breathless when he finally released him just enough to let
him breathe, distracting him with constant kisses and caresses as he moved with
him across the room. Blaise felt one of the poles behind him and Gregor seized
his hands and placed them above his hands in cuffs.
"Greg…? What…?" Blaise asked, confused and totally muddled by the scent,
stronger now that Gregor was next to him. "Where's Ron…?"
Gregor only smiled in a predatory way at him, more baring his teeth than any
sort of a friendly overture. "It is time you are good to me. Time you let me do
what I am truly wishing." He said, his hands running down Blaise's chest and
lingering on the front of his slacks, stroking there. "You will seeing; you
will be liking this…"
The younger boy pulled at the cuffs binding his wrists, confused. "Wait; I… I
don't want…"
"I will be hearings no more arguings!" He snapped, forcing a ball gag into
Blaise's mouth and strapping it into place on him. "You are being mine! You are
being no one else's. You are mine!" he snarled, then took a deep breath to calm
himself. He had this one precisely where he wanted him. "You will seeing; I am
good master to good servant. You serve me, please me, and I am being very good
to you."
Blaise stared at him, struggling but to no avail. His wand was not anywhere in
reach and he couldn't do anything… no one would hear him this far from the
castle.
He drew one finger along Blaise's cheek, his breath smelling heavily of
whiskey. "You do not being good to me, you be not making me happy and I will be
punishing you." He added. When Blaise did not respond to that he added a bit
more; he knew this boy had passion for a certain Gryffindor. "And if you are
being telling anyone; anyone at all. I will being punishing… Ron."
The reaction of fear and worry in Blaise's eyes let the older boy know he had
struck a cord. "Oh, yes, dark one. I will chain him and beat him. And I will be
having you watch, and tell him that you are why he is beings beaten. And I may
be killing him if you tell anyone." He said in a dangerous tone.
Blaise closed his eyes and sagged slightly. He couldn't let this happen to Ron…
he would do anything to keep him safe.
Gregor gestured with his wand and Blaise found himself naked in the cold room.
The blonde chuckled softly, seeing that at least his aphrodisiac potion-laced
cologne had had an undeniable effect on this lad even if it hadn't done a
damned thing to Ron. Blaise was already painfully erect. "You are enjoyings
this already." He grinned, stroking that hardness. "I cannot be doings this
right, you are in school and must go to classes but I will teach you how to be
good to me… right now I am wishing to be making love…" he pushed Blaise around
and forced him up against the pole, fingers seeking his opening and probing at
it. "Ah… there. Getting all ready for me, yes…?" he asked, untying the codpiece
to show he himself was quite erect already.
Blaise whimpered, but tried not to flinch away or to fight. Gregor used his
wand once more to lube himself up before he began to push his way inside
Blaise's body. "Ahhhh yesss… you are nice around me…" he murmured in Blaise's
ear, beginning to thrust, holding onto him tightly.
Blaise found himself back in the Great Hall hours later with little idea how he
had gotten there. Time had blurred for him, the entire episode had a hazy
dreamlike quality to it. He remembered that Gregor had bound him and… after
that it all went hazy. He didn't recall much except sexual pleasure.
Mostly by habit he turned and made his way across the Hall to the stairs for
the dungeons, slipping into the stairwell without any one seeing him. He heard
footsteps and dodged behind a statue; he stayed hidden safely away while he
watched the Hufflepuff prefects move by, chatting as they went. When they were
gone he moved out, and hurried onward, reaching the entrance of the Slytherin
common room without further mishap.
He kept his eyes averted as he walked through the common room; no one stopped
him. Being Draco's best friend had its advantages, that was for sure. He
hurried on until he reached the room that he and Draco shared. He shut the door
behind himself and sighed softly, leaning on it, finally feeling safe.
Merlin, he just wanted to get clean. He felt filthy. He pushed off the door and
moved to his personal bedroom, grabbing clothing and heading to the washroom.
Memories began to sift in through the haze. He had been so aroused tonight, he
had no idea why. He'd never reacted like that to anyone before… well, except
for a certain redhead. He knew this was different.
Mechanically he went through the motions of showering as his mind fought to
clear itself of the confusion. He found himself frozen in place when the memory
of the threat, the danger to Ron, suddenly loomed in his mind. Gregor would
hurt Ron.
He was caught, good and proper. Collared and leashed. He didn't dare hide from
Gregor; he knew that Ron spent time with the Durmstrang boy almost daily. If he
refused to meet him, if he resisted at all it would be disastrous. Ron's safety
lay directly at his feet. He would be responsible for whatever Gregor did to
Ron. He saw no way out; he could never break free until these damned Durmstrang
left… then he would be safe and it could finally end.
He heard Draco come into their shared washroom as he was finishing up. The
blonde set about getting his things set up for his nighttime ritual of washing
and applying lotions and creams and balms. Blaise pulled on his sleeping pants
in the privacy of the shower stall and moved out, giving his friend a wan grin.
"Hey Blaise…" Draco smiled at him, brushing out his hair.
"Hey." He answered, moving to the sink to do his teeth next. He did not engage
in the kind of comfortable chatter that they usually fell to out of habit every
night; he was silent as he applied himself to what he needed to get done before
he went to bed.
"Blaise? Mate, are you all right?" Draco asked softly. It was vividly clear to
him that something was terribly wrong with his best friend. "You've been
awfully quiet…"
"Its… something I need to work through on my own. Really." He answered softly.
"I can't… I just can't talk about it." He bent to splash water on his face. Now
that someone had asked him, the instructions for his behavior implanted during
that violent session of sex kicked into gear. He could not speak about what had
happened. He should not, and he could not. "Let's just get ready for bed okay?"
Draco frowned, looking at him with concern. "What do you mean, you can't? We
talk about everything, that's what being mates is." He said, not liking this at
all.
"Well I just need to keep this to myself." Blaise answered, reaching for a
towel. "Just for a while, okay…? I promise, it'll be all right."
Draco frowned softly. What the bloody hell could Blaise not talk to him about?
They talked about every bloody thing under the sun before today, what could he
possibly have to keep secret?
Blaise looked at him and smiled reassuringly; looking a lot more like his old
self. "Really, Dray. I'm all right. This is just something I have to work my
way through…" he said.
Reluctantly, Draco let it go, resolving to keep a closer eye on his best
freind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
***** Hunting for Answers *****

Author's notes: The stalker has struck; he has one Hogwarts student under his
spell and is hunting another. Can anyone figure out what is happening before it
is too late?
===============================================================================
Two days later was the first challenge of the Tri-Wizard cup. The danger that
Harry endured was like a cold hard slap of reality to Ron. There was no way
that his friend would ever have really desired to put himself in that much
danger!
That evening, sitting down with Hermione and Harry and talking things through
really helped Ron to come to grips with it all. By the time they put their
heads on their pillows they had all decided that they had simply been asanine
and it all needed to be left behind them. The Golden Trio had made amends, and
as a result the three were actually closer than ever.
Ron woke early the next morning to a highly irritating noise; it sounded like a
moth trying to get out of a paper bag or something… he roused enough to raise
his head from the pillow, looking blearily at the window beside his bed.
Pigwidgeon, his tiny owl, was almost battering himself against the window in an
attempt to get inside.
"Geez, Weasley, would you let your stupid bird in already?" Seamus grumbled,
pulling the blanket over his head. "It's the weekend and I ain't bloody well
getting out of bed until I feel like it!"
"Oh quit whinging, for heaven's sake!" Ron grumbled, snatching up his wand off
the bedside table. He flicked it and the window opened. Immediately Pigwidgeon
zoomed into the room and Ron closed the window the moment the little owl was
past the glass.
Harry sat up, stretching. "A little early for regular mail… you didn't do
something stupid lately did you Ron?" he asked with a smirk.
"Very funny, Harry." Ron smirked back at him, watching his bird zip around. He
hesitated, and then reached up to snatch at the owl, missing by several inches.
"Come here, you insane little bird!" he said as he sat up, grabbing again and
catching the tiny owl in his hand. "I swear you have to be the most irritating
thing!" he grumbled, seeing that the owl had a message on his leg. The bird
looked at him with its wide eyes, hooting eagerly. "Hm. Wonder who this is
from…" he said, tugging the note free. He released the miniscule owl, which
immediately began to zoom about Ron's bed then the entire room hooting happily
and shrilly.
"Put that bloody bird out you inconsiderate git!" Seamus complained, snatching
up his wand and using it to close his curtains.
Ron rolled his eyes and opened the window again, allowing another blast of cold
air to come in as the bird zipped out of sight. He sat up and unrolled the
note.
"What is it? I can see it isn't a howler, at least…" Harry commented with a
smirk, sitting up, watching his friend's face curiously.
"Thank Merlin." Ron gave him a smirk, relaxing back on his pillows.
"Well I'm up now; I may as well grab a shower." Harry said, swinging his legs
out of bed and reaching for his clothes. "Hey, let's get a team together and
play some quidditch today." He suggested.
"Sounds good to me." Ron gave him a grin, and then turned his attention to the
message, unrolling it. He recognized the handwriting immediately; it was
Gregor.
My Good Friend Ron.
I am hoping to be seeing you again. I find you are good friend and is hard not
to be talking to you.
Is very lonely here without friends with which to talk. I was a fool to try to
make you be with me; I just grow desperate for contact. Since I am gone my
lovers back home have found new lovers. I am alone and grow sadder by the day.
I am wanting friendship is all.
If you are refusing to seeing me I am not seeing reasons for living.
Please.
Meet me once more. Answering me and tell me you will be meeting me.
The note wasn't signed but he knew it was from Gregor. Ron blinked and read
through the message again, sitting up. Ptriov was threatening to kill himself…?
"Oo's it from?" Harry asked as he strolled over to the showers.
"Gregor." Ron answered.
Harry paused, looking back at him. "You going to go meet him again?" he asked
curiously.
Ron hesitated; it would be nice to have support when he went to take this note
to someone who could help. He had no choice; he had to take it to Karkaroff. He
sighed and shook his head. "No… but I think I need to go talk to one of the
teachers." He said, getting out of bed and pulling open his trunk.
"Want me to come?"
"Nah. I'll be back in less than an hour. Go ahead and get a couple of fellahs
together and we can play after we eat." Ron assured him, getting dressed
quickly.
Harry nodded and turned, going on to shower.
-.
(Readers – please consider the following conversation to be in Romanian; these
two wouldn't be talking to one another in English)
Gregor stood on the deck of the Durmstrang ship, glaring up at the towers he
knew housed the Gryffindor students. Where the bloody hell was that insanely
hyper little owl? He had sent it up to Ron's rooms nearly an hour ago; he
should have received an answer of some sort by now.
"You are wasting your time, Gregor." A deep voice said behind him. When he
turned he saw Krum standing behind him. "Your message did not work; that
redheaded boy will not be coming to see you."
He only smiled at him. "You really think you're all-knowing now, Viktor? Being
a Tri-wizard champion has surely gone to your head." he commented snidely. "You
wait and see; he will come. You are a fool to think you know it all."
"I tell you Miss Granger's friend will not be coming to see you. He is friends
with her again, and friends with Potter again. He is happy here; you should let
him alone."
"You couldn't control me at Durmstrang; I will not be controlled by you here!"
he growled at him, his wand in hand.
Krum scowled at him. "Put your wand away, fool! Karkaroff should never have
brought you here." He said quietly.
"He chose me to come because I have talents that could have been of value." He
sneered.
"And you never bothered to enter the tournament!"
"I do not wish to compete; that Tri-Wizard competition is insane and will end
with your death." He answered.
"You are getting out of hand for even Durmstrang. You must learn to control
yourself or you will get killed for what you do."
"I will do what I will!" he snapped.
"And what if Karkaroff steps in?" he asked in a quiet, threatening tone,
looking down his narrow nose at his schoolmate, his heavy brow lowered. "You
will battle Karkaroff for this Hogwarts boy? He is not of age. You should not
be…"
"Phaugh!" he spat in disgust. "You are a fool to try to talk me out of what I
do! You are no different than I! You've spent days chasing that girl Granger
about the castle and she is no older than Weasley!" he retorted.
That comment got the reaction from Krum that Ptriov had been looking for, anger
and denial. "That's different; she's a woman…!"
"She is a girl!" he interrupted, refusing to listen. "You are doing the same
thing I am!"
"No. I seek to make friends only. More may come, with time…"
"You're only looking for a friend." He repeated sourly. "Friendship for you
requires sitting hours in a library watching the girl read?"
"She enjoys books. I enjoy her company."
"You hate reading." He sneered at him. "You bullied your way through classes!"
"This isn't about me and what I do!" he interrupted sharply. "You must not
pursue that boy further!"
"Are you threatening me, Krum?"
"No. But Karkaroff will if he catches wind of all of this. Weasley was on his
way here when he saw me in the hall. He stopped and talked to me; and he gave
me this…" he held up the note that Gregor had sent up to Ron this morning.
"That is not your business!" Gregor snatched at it but Krum held it away,
expecting just such a move.
The note vanished from sight inside Krum's robes somewhere. "Oh, no; I will be
keeping this. And if anything happens to Weasley you can be sure that I will
give this directly to Karkaroff." He said, glaring at him. "Weasley was
concerned that you might kill yourself out of grief for your lost lovers. He
wanted to be sure that someone watched over you. Quite a good friend, he is,
even if you have surely scared him away with your predatory behavior."
Gregor glared at him, slapping his wand back into its holster at his side.
"Yes. Some wonderful friend Ron is, taking a note that was personal to a
backstabbing two-faced bastard like you. He trusts you to watch me and ensure I
will not kill myself but you will take that girl he loves from him. She is all
he talks about, Viktor, and you will destroy his life surely as if I had my way
with him. You have every intention of stealing her away from him. He will be
unable to do anything about it."
"If that happens it will be Hermione's choice." He answered coldly. "But you
will leave Weasley alone."
Realizing it would be dangerous to him to continue further, he turned his face
away. "I will meet him only in public places. Does this make you happy?"
"How public?"
"Very public. The meal hall, or places with more than ten students. Will this
make you happy?"
"It will do, for now." Krum took a step back, clearly not wishing to turn his
back on this boy.
Gregor returned to glowering at the tower again, pointedly ignoring Viktor. If
he gave him no more attention he would go away; that was one habit that Krum
had developed over the years. Viktor loved attention and if you didn't give it
he would tire and leave. It worked; Krum had glared at him for several more
minutes, then had turned on one heel and walked off.
Gregor stood silently for a few minutes, considering his options. It clearly
wasn't safe to pursue the redhead any longer. The boy had been so tempting due
to the fact that he even had admitted himself that he was an untouched virgin
at that point. He had not even been with that fluffy-haired bitch that he
fancied. He had never expected Weasley to take his letter to anyone, much less
Krum or Karkaroff. And he knew that Viktor would keep his word and take the
letter to the headmaster.
He spat a curse and pushed away from the rail, turning. Mikeal had been right;
he had tried to warn Gregor in the beginning not to pursue the Gryffindors here
but he had taken it as a challenge. Well, at least he still had the dark-
skinned Slytherin boy. He had to keep up the impression somehow that he was
still seeing the Weasley boy, to keep this little toy under his thumb.
-.
Blaise stepped inside the building and closed the door quickly behind him. No
one had followed him, he had made absolutely sure of that. He was struck once
more by the hypnotic smell that had stunned him that first time, feeling dizzy
and rather confused again. He hesitated, looking around; the dungeon remained.
Merlin help him…
"You're late." Gregor growled, standing just to his right.
He jumped at the tone and closeness of the voice; he hadn't even seen the
seventeen year old at all. "Sorry, Gregor; I had to…"
"No! You will being calling me Master! You will be calling me nothings else
when we are being alone!" He snarled.
Blaise reflexively reached for his wand and found it was gone; Gregor had
already taken it away from him. "All right…" he agreed in a whisper, his mind
fogging over quickly.
Gregor looked into the eyes of the boy and grinned wolfishly. It was clear that
he was well under the influence of the aphrodesiacs. Very sensitive, this one
was. Perhaps he could even become addicted to them; he loved it when his little
slaves were addicted. Controlling them was so easy.
Blaise slipped into his rooms past midnight, his whole body aching. He
remembered more tonight; last time it was just a vague memory of pain and lots
of pleasure… this time had been different. His hands shook as he uncorked the
healing potion and downed the entire bottle in a single draught. He leaned on
the door, feeling his back tingling and burning like his nerves were afire.
Gregor had used the cat-o-nine tails on him tonight; the leather straps had
left welts all across his back. Blaise shuddered as the sensation swept over
him and he felt he could finally stand again. He had been a poor servant to his
master tonight. He had earned his punishment; he had to learn the rules. He had
been late to his meeting with his new master. He had disappointed Gregor and he
had called him by his name instead of Master. He was learning to obey the
rules, but sometimes he forgot himself and spoke out of turn… He had spent
nearly two hours suspended from the ceiling, bound tightly with ropes.
Gregor had not only treated him with cruelty, he had put a soothing balm on the
injuries and then… what had followed was a complete blur of exquisite pleasure,
during which he had almost believed that it had been Ron with him.
He straightened from the wall, his hands shaking slightly. He only felt weak
now. He needed to sleep. It would be okay; he was protecting Ron. He hadn't
seen the redhead in over a week now, not that he was looking for him. He was
keeping Gregor distracted and Ron would be safe from his attention.
That was all that truly mattered even if Ron never even knew that he had done
this for him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.
Draco stalked into the library, hoping to catch a glimpse of Blaise. He hadn't
been able to spend more than ten minutes with his fellow Slytherin in the past
three weeks and his temper was being stretched to the limit. If he did not have
someone to talk to he kept everything bottled up inside and he was about ready
to explode at the next person who got on his nerves no matter who they were. He
prowled the through the book-lined aisles library, eyes narrow, in a right foul
mood because he was not getting anything that he wanted or needed.
A conversation on the other side of a bookshelf stopped him in his tracks. He'd
heard Blaise's name. He snatched up a book and moved around to lean on the end
cap of the bookshelf, pretending to read as he eavesdropped.
"Yes, Blaise Zabini. Have you heard what's going on with him…?" four girls sat
together at a table; two Hufflepuffs; one blonde and one dark haired, a
Ravenclaw who had brown hair, and a first year Slytherin girl with white-gold
hair in a thick braid. The first speaker was one of the Hufflepuffs, the one
with short brown hair.
"You know no one tells me anything." The Ravenclaw pouted, leaning forward to
listen to the hushed discussion.
"And you do nothing but whine about it, Cori. Come on, Susan, tell us what you
know." the other Hufflepuffs asked, looking eager for gossip.
"He's seeing one of the Durmstrang boys, a seventh year. You know; the tall
blonde one who was second in line when they came in to the great hall? The one
who always wears those sexy dragon-hide boots?"
"Seriously? Merlin! Those boys are so good-looking!"
"I think I know which one you're talking about, his name is Gregor. No wonder
he acts so distant all the time. He doesn't give any of the girls a second
glance. Guess we know why now. So what do you know?" the other girl prompted.
"He's been saying all kinds of things, talking to the other seventh years. I
heard him in the Great Hall the other day; it sounded like he was bragging
almost. He says that Blaise went to him first, looking for an older partner…"
"Blaise? I would never have thought…" the Slytherin girl began.
"Well Blaise hasn't denied it, has he?" Susan demanded, looking at her.
"Blaise hasn't really said much of anything, lately." She admitted in a quiet
tone, frowning.
"And that boy says that Blaise looked for an older lover because he wanted
things he couldn't get from another fourth year. He likes things rough, you
know what I mean…?" she waggled her eyebrows at them.
The Ravenclaw girl looked shocked. "Rough…? You mean like, whips and chains and
things? M and M's…?"
The other girls at the table burst into giggles, held down to keep from raising
the ire of Madame Pince. "Not M&M's you little twit. I swear, you're the most
sheltered girl I ever met, Cornithia!" Susan snickered.
"Well how am I supposed to know what it's called…?" she defended, blushing
hotly.
"You're a Ravenclaw, you're supposed to know everything…" the second Hufflepuff
named Mary giggled.
"Potions and runes and bookwork, yes; but I don't study SEX, Mary!" she
retorted, cheeks flushed.
Susan leaned forward on the table with a grin. "It's called S&M, Cori. Sadism
and Masochism. You ought to look it up; you'll certainly learn a lot." She
commented, and then her grin grew. "Maybe it's what you're really into; if you
find out more about it maybe you'll start being more interested in guys…"
"Oh stop it Susan!" The other Hufflepuff rolled her eyes as the Ravenclaw
looked ready to explode with a retort. "Don't listen to her, Cornithia,
seriously! She just wants to get you going so she can get you in trouble and
she can have more to gab about." She soothed, one hand resting on the hand of
the Ravenclaw girl.
Corinthia scowled but closed her mouth, her lips thin as she glared at Susan,
who was positively alight with happiness at getting someone riled up.
"Oh come on Susan, knock it off already!" Mary hissed at her. "Spill what you
know already and quit messing with her!"
Susan made a face at her and leaned forward to whisper what she considered to
be juicy gossip. "Every day right after classes Blaise goes out into the
grounds. Several students have tried to follow him but Blaise always shakes
them. Even the Prefects haven't been able to follow him. No one knows where he
really goes. I know where he's going though; he's sneaking out to meet with
that Durmstrang boy. He really must be taken by him."
"But those boys are all seventeen…!"
"Doesn't matter to Blaise, I suppose." She shrugged.
"Those Durmstrang boys are cute and all, but I don't know about going THAT far
with one of them… after all, the ones they brought to compete in the Triwizard
Tournament are really strong, and they know a lot more dark spells than we do,
that's for sure."
"Well he is a Slytherin; they do tend to be attracted to people of power…" the
second almost snorted.
Draco thought he was going to have to come around the corner and teach these
girls a bit of respect for Slytherin, especially that first year from his own
house. He glanced at them again to get a good look at the Slytherin girl; his
lips curling in a snarl. He knew her, Aurelia Woodward was her name and he
certainly was going to give her a lesson in respect; then the girl finally
spoke up.
Her voice was a slow, thoughtful drawl. "That really doesn't make any sense at
all. Why would Blaise need to go looking for anyone with power? He's Draco
Malfoy's best friend." The first year Slytherin asked, frowning at the dark-
haired Hufflepuff girl.
"So?" the Hufflepuff named Susan huffed, irritated about her story being
interrupted. The gossip was so juicy she didn't want anyone saying that it was
less interesting because of some silly argument about whether or not Blaise
would do such a thing.
"So he has all the power he could ask for here, except if he was the Prince
himself." Aurelia retorted. Draco made a mental note to reward that girl
somehow for defending Blaise and standing up for her house. "It doesn't make
any sense. He has everything he can want in Slytherin house. He doesn't have to
go hunting for power."
Susan saw her opportunity and jumped on her chance to exploit it. "Come on, you
can't really believe that. Come on, even you said he's barely said a word to
anyone lately. Think about it; he's been ignoring all of you now, hasn't he?"
The Slytherin girl pouted a bit at that statement; she clearly must have been
one of the ones that Blaise had taken a particular interest in. "Yes, he has."
she said reluctantly. "He hardly says a word to anyone anymore. This morning he
acted like he didn't even see me even though I called his name three times. But
he is busy and he doesn't have to answer to anyone but Draco. After all, I'm
only a first year."
"Everyone knows Blaise is more into guys than girls anyway." Mary shrugged.
"We've all known that since second year and that little incident with Seamus
Finnegan."
"Seamus says that was nothing but a rumor…" Susan put in, "But we all know it
really happened. Why would the teachers lie about finding the two of them in
the trophy room?"
"Seamus' dad is about as homophobic as they come." The Ravenclaw said, rolling
her eyes. "And he's a pureblood lover to boot."
"This isn't about Seamus, anyway. It's about Blaise. He stays out far past
curfew too." The blonde Hufflepuff said in a gossiping tone. "I've spotted him
coming into the great hall when I was doing my Prefect duties. Night before
last it was nearly two in the morning when he came in. But I can tell you he
didn't look himself…"
"What does that mean?" Corinthia asked.
"He was walking strange, like he was under a trance or something. I was at the
top of the stairs when I saw him…"
"At least a hundred feet away from him in a DARK grand entryway and you THINK
he was in a trance?" Mary asked, frowning.
"Doesn't sound like you got a good look at all." The Slytherin commented wryly.
"I got a good enough look! He was walking kind of stilted, like he was in
pain…"
"I thought you said he was in a trance." Mary countered.
"Oh do shut up, Mary." Susan scowled. "Come on, what do you expect if you like
to play sex games? Someone is bound to get hurt."
The Slytherin girl frowned, clearly getting irritated, her voice rising a
notch. "He looked fine in class yesterday. Did his work, didn't talk much but
there aren't any marks on him…"
"Not that we can see. But who knows what he's hiding under his clothes? I hear
that those people who play those games know how to leave a mark that no one
will see in the daytime." Susan went on.
The Slytherin girl got to her feet, looking angered. "I think that's getting a
little too personal, I don't care if it's just gossip."
"Its not just gossip!"
"It is, and its not right to make things up like that. You don't know what his
sex life is like; just because some Durmstrang says he's doing things with
Blaise doesn't make it any more true than when they said YOU were going out
with Millicent Bulstrode!" she retorted.
"That was a blatant lie!"
"Well Blaise's life is his own and you really ought to leave him be. I'm not
going to listen to another word you say about him!"
"Oh come off your high Hippogriff already. You're just angry because he's a
Slytherin…"
"No, I'm angry because I like Blaise. He might not be paying me any attention
right now but he's never said a cruel word and he's never done me a bad turn.
You think you know all about him and its okay to say whatever you want because
of our house but we aren't all evil you know." She said, eyes narrow. "And he's
a nice guy; you don't even know him at all!"
"Sh!" Madame Pince hissed at them; Aurelia's last outburst was anything but
quiet and she had brought the wrath of the school librarian down on them all.
"Don't worry about me, I'm leaving." Aurelia said, giving Susan a look of
disgust.
"Aurelia, hold on, I'm coming with you." Corinthia said, rising and pushing her
books into her bag. "I don't think I care to listen to the gossip any more
anyway. I'd rather study with you."
"Out of my library!" Madame Pince ordered.
Draco watched as the girls hurried out of the library and on their way. He
stood in silence, still leaning on the end cap. Madame Pince glanced at him
with narrowed eyes but he simply ignored her. She huffed and moved off, giving
him a scowl as she moved away. So Blaise was seeing a Durmstrang, and according
to those airhead gossiping Hufflepuffs that person was a seventh year and was
not anything that Blaise had ever mentioned an interest in. Gads, all he ever
did was talk about that friend of Potter's, that Weasley boy. This wasn't a
surprise to him, Blaise had told him he was talking to that Gregor character
about a month ago. Gregor had said that he would introduce Blaise to the red-
haired Weasel; he had assumed that it had happened and he was seeing the other
fourth year, but clearly no such thing had happened.
He turned and stalked out of the library. He was going to get some answers,
even if he had to beat them out of the Weasel himself.
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