Blood Trials

1. Lust

Harry woke up in a dark room wracked with fever, shakes, and an incredible hard on. His cock was straining against his sheets, and he had no idea what had happened, or why his dick was even aroused as it was. At least he was alone. No need for anyone to see this, he thought. Without even trying to remember what had happened, his heavy eyes fell closed again, and he welcomed the feeling of falling into obliviousness.

The next time that Harry opened his eyes, the shakes had stopped and the fever seemed to be broken. He saw that the room was still dark, but felt a presence there that he hadn't felt before. Raising his nose as if to sniff in the air, he made out that it was a male and the scent had him reeling. He could feel his cock start to stir again, which was weird. What in the blue fuck was going on?

The next thing that gained his attention was the incredible pounding in his head and an insatiable thirst in his throat. But he didn't want water, it was almost as if he wanted something else. Something rich and dark and filled with protein. He moved his tongue around inside his mouth and winced when he felt fangs where his incisors should be. 

What the fuckity fuck?

He tried to remember what had happened prior to him being tied down to a bed. He was tied down?!! 

Was he dangerous? Jesus Christ. 

He had been walking in Diagon Alley, patrolling the streets where it was said that there were still death eaters skulking amongst the usual people, using Knockturn Alley as a hideaway. And as weird as that sounds, death eaters were few and far between now, with it being two years after the war.

He recalled that he had seen something glimmering on the footpath and had bent down to pick it up to look at, but after that - nothing. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!!!! 

Had he been kidnapped by Voldemort's followers? No, that didn't make sense. He was in a clean bed, but what did the straps mean? He tried to find his voice, and realized that he couldn't.

He sniffed the air again, loving the scent that was invading his nostrils. He groaned because his nose wasn't the only thing that was enjoying the smell, it seemed that his cock was too. What the fuck was that scent, and why was his cock honed in on it? He tried to move and found that he couldn't, so he opened his eyes and turned his head to the right.

His bed was up against a wall, and when he turned to the left he saw a silhouette of a man sitting on the chair next to the door. He swallowed, but as much as he wanted to voice something, anything, his voice had left him. He kept his piercing gaze on the silhouette, waiting for the person to speak to him.

And he did.

"Finally awake Potter!", drawled the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy.

Harry just kept on looking and wished that the man would at least turn on a light, but then remembering his cock was standing at attention, and was glad that he didn't. He wanted to answer, he really did, but stayed silent, hoping that Malfoy would at least fill in the missing blanks.

Harry was feeling an enormous amount of lust and he couldn't fathom why, or why it was even happening with Malfoy in the room. His prick was betraying him in the worst way possible, and he realized he needed two things. He needed to be left alone, and he needed release. He moved his hand slowly towards his hard on, but just missed it.

Maybe he should ask Malfoy to jerk him off - maybe he should demand it, that will put the prat in his place, but Harry knew that the blond had the upper hand here. If anyone was going to win, it wasn't going to be Harry. He moved his legs and found that his ankles were also bound, and then he did a weird thing.