Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9913568.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Hermione_Granger, Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      BDSM, Out_of_Character, Angst, Tragedy, Romance
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-07-17 Words: 1390
****** Hurt ******
by Vampira6 [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     He wants to be hurt. He is the only one willing to do it to him, but
     if things get out of hand one night, they realize there might be more
     to their relationship.
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.
As for the warnings: It's kind of in between BDSM and Violence, so I wasn't
sure which one to choose. (It's not actual BDSM, I should know, ha). Consensual
violence is the best way to put it. Also, there's no actual sex, but it's sorta
kinda implied? Yeah. Sometimes warnings are difficult.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the characters in
it.
Hurt
He kisses him, seemingly gently, but nothing could be further from the truth.
His hands are around his neck, digging his sharp nails into his skin, making
him shiver, making him moan in the most delicious way. He's caught his bottom
lip between his teeth, sucking on it, nibbling on it, and eventually biting
down on it. As he experiences the unique taste of the blood of his lover for
the first time that night, he sighs contently.
He’s missed it, although it hasn’t been a long time. He has missed the exotic
flavour, and so he sucks on the small wound lightly, wishing to taste more of
him, because according the him, this is one of the most intimate things one can
share with someone else. But the dark haired boy, who doesn't want him to suck
gently, but bite down hard, moves slightly away from him, and looks into his
eyes. "Draco, please."
"Patience," Draco whispers, and as he moves towards Harry's earlobe to tug it
slightly between his teeth, there is no sound, or any sign of arousal at all.
"You're never satisfied, are you?" It is a useless question, he knows the
answer.
Harry just looks at him with pleading green eyes, and Draco presses him up
against the cold stone wall, before he can get feelings of sympathy towards
him.
The wall feels painful against his naked shoulder blades. It will probably
bruise, but he doesn't care, for it will be a memory. His eyes are almost dark
now, shadowed with lust. Shivers are sent down his spine once again when Draco
ghosts his nails over his hipbones. He knows his skin is most sensitive there.
"What do you want me to do?" His voice is soft, yet it trembles slightly. He
doesn't ever admit it, but that is what Harry does to him. "The same as last
time?" Only they know what he means.
"No, I…" He pauses, holding back a moan as the delicate lips reach his jaw line
and press soft kisses to it. "You know what I want. Just do something. Hit me,
bruise me. I…I need to feel."
This is when Draco should sense that there's something wrong in the way the
other wizard stares at the ground, almost as if feeling guilty for what he is
asking of Draco, and in the way he is biting his bottom lip, as if he wants to
stop himself from crying. He should know better than to hurt the boy, because
he seems so broken already, but he doesn't want Harry to think he likes him,
loves him, or even cares about him. So he complies, even if it hurts him
inside, and he hits him hard in the face.
Harry gasps at the pain. The strength of the blond surprises him, because he
has never used it on him before, not like this, but he asks him to continue, to
hurt him, because he feels he deserves it, and Draco is the only one willing to
give this to him. Others would give their life for him, support him in the
battle against Voldemort, but he is the only one who can give him what he truly
wants.
The next one hits him even harder. Just before he passes out because of his
head slamming against the wall, he thinks he sees tears in the grey eyes, but
he blames it on his blurry vision.
At first Draco can't move. He has watched silently how Harry hit the wall, so
hard it can't be good, and collapsed onto the floor just a moment later. He
knows he has done this, and now he realizes he shouldn't have listened to the
foolish wishes of a boy who apparently feels so worthless that he wants to be
hurt like this. But he knows all to well he can't blame him: he did this. The
tears, he tells himself, are not from any kind of sadness, they are just the
result of shock.
"Harry?" He seems to have forgotten that he never calls him that; it's always
Potter, or 'love' in an utterly sarcastic tone, but never Harry. He bends down,
and carefully lifts Harry's head away from the floor, to look at the back of
his head. When he sees the blood, he knows he should get him to the infirmary.
How on earth is he going to explain this?
Several hours later, he is sitting in the infirmary, next to his bed. It aches
his heart to see him like this. He finds himself unable to look away, his dark
hair on the white pillow, his pale face. They say that he is going to be okay.
He didn't kill him, so why does he feel like this, why does he even care at
all?
The door opens, but he doesn't notice the person coming in until they stand
next to him, in front of the window, blocking the morning light. He hadn't
noticed it has become morning already; he has been sitting here all night. He
looks up at the person to find out it is Granger.
"Malfoy," she says, looking back at him. "What are you doing here?" Her voice
doesn't sound angry or accusing, almost nice, as if she knows what has been
going on. Which wouldn't surprise Draco, because that girl always seems to know
what is going on.
"I don't know," he says honestly.
"What happened to him?" Hermione asks quietly.
"I did this to him," Draco whispers, and suddenly, he can't stop the tears from
falling. They won't stop, no matter how hard he tries, and once again, he hates
the weak person he is starting to become.
Hermione watches him, concerned, because she suspects what Harry and Draco's
relationship is like. Harry has of course never told her, but observant as she
is, she has noticed Harry glancing at Draco in class. Glancing in ways you
don't glance at your enemies, or even at your best friends. She has noticed the
way sneers and insulting remarks from Draco have been hurting him more than
ever before, but she has also noticed how often he has been gone during the
night lately.
She sees Draco struggle, and feels slightly uncomfortable. She had never
thought he could look so vulnerable, and had never expected him to break down
on front of her, out of everyone. So she sits down next to him, wondering where
she gets the courage from, and wraps one arm around his shoulders. He startles
at first, but doesn't push her away. "What happened?" She repeats.
Only hours ago, he would have died rather than to be touched by a muggleborn,
but right now it doesn't seem right to worry about it. He tells her everything.
He pauses or interrupts himself with a sob every now and then, but he manages.
Hermione listens quietly, nodding every once in a while.
Neither of them notice that Harry opens his eyes while Draco is speaking,
watches the two of them, and closes his eyes again, wondering what is becoming
of the world. It doesn't make sense, but what does make sense these days?
When Draco is done, Hermione dares to ask. "But if you say you don't care about
him, why have you been sitting by his bed all night?"
It seems like a good question to Draco, a difficult question he doesn't quite
know the answer to.
But when he looks at Harry, sleeping peacefully (he doesn't know that in fact,
he isn't asleep at all), breathing in a slow but steady rhythm, his long dark
eyelashes resting on his cheeks, it all makes perfect sense. "Because I love
him."
And Harry smiles, knowing that he means it. Before he drifts off to sleep
again, he realizes that maybe he could learn to live without the pain, and that
maybe this is what he's always needed.
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