Angels and Devils (Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Chapter 14. Instincts

Harry woke feeling stiff and uncomfortable, as if he'd been lying in an awkward position for too long, but when he tried to move, he discovered he couldn't. When he attempted to bring his hand up to his face, he managed to shift it no more than a few millimetres before he encountered opposition. Opening his eyes, he glanced down and confirmed what his sense of touch was telling him: he was lying on a hospital wing bed and he was attached to it with full body restraints.

There were padded leather cuffs on his wrists and his ankles, and there was a long strap across his chest and another over his hips. Harry was very firmly connected to the bed, and from the slight tingling that the restraints caused in his skin, he didn't think they were Muggle made either.

His first instinct was mild panic and he pulled against the confinement with little effect, but it took him only a few moments to calm himself down. This was still Hogwarts. He could recognise Poppy's touches around the small room where he was being kept and Dumbledore would not have let anything happen to him. However, that still didn't answer the questions: 'How long had he been there?' and 'What on earth had he done to warrant being strapped down?'

Relaxing back onto the bed and taking a few deep breaths, Harry tried to clear his mind and see if he remembered anything. A vague feeling of anger and pain filled him, but no memories surfaced to help him understand. The last thing he could recall clearly was the Great Hall.

A certain amount of time had to have passed because he was wearing hospital-wing pyjamas rather than his school uniform and his stomach felt like a very large empty hole, but how long was a mystery. He was considering calling out to see if anyone was listening when the door opened anyway.

The moment the oak barrier cracked open so much as an inch Harry felt it: a pull on his senses that filled him with a need so urgent that it physically hurt. Every nerve in his body came alive as he went from relaxed to painfully aroused in less than a second. His mate was somewhere on the other side of that door and Malfoy's magic called to him. Harry couldn't stop himself; he pulled at the restraints as hard as possible, twisting and trying to arch off the bed. He had to get out. He needed to be free and he yelled his fury to the world.

Nothing mattered, nothing but joining with his mate and it filled every thought. He strained to release himself, but Harry was held in place and it caused him pain. He was aware of little except the fire in his flesh, but he felt it when the door closed, and the source of his agony was cut off. One moment it was there, clawing at his mind and body, and the next it was gone, but it did not stop the reactions that it had already started. He could not prevent himself continuing to pull at the leather and although it dimmed, the molten lava in his veins still burned.

His eyes stared at the world, but he registered nothing, all Harry knew was the need. It consumed him completely.

His protests were incoherent and animalistic, but he couldn't think enough to make them anything else. Only gradually did it begin to fade and slowly he became aware of a hand gently stroking his forehead and a voice speaking to him. Bit by bit the world started to make a little sense and his reflexive resistance to his bonds calmed from its frantic level. Harry still struggled, but only weakly and eventually he understood who was talking to him and what she was saying.

"It's alright, Harry," Poppy's calm tones washed over him as he gradually shifted flat onto the bed, "let it go. That's right, try and relax."

It took a long time and a stream of gentle words from his carer before Harry could stop moving all together. He heard himself mew quietly as he slowly came down from the over stimulated high that had taken away all control. Only as the last tremor died away did he finally open his eyes properly and actually see Poppy's calm but concerned face looking down at him.