Author's note: So, second try at smut but this time I went a little overboard, I guess. Just wanted to explore Sam's soullessness, you know, please indulge me. I put rape as a warning but it leans more into dubious consent because they're kind of beautifuly fucked up. Oh and don't worry Dean will be back in the next part as well as Sam's soul, I think... Probably... But Dean is for sure, he can't keep away after all!

Warnings: Rape, non-con leaning towards dub-con, knifeplay, spanking, bloodplay, bondage, gag, top Sam, bottom Harry...And probably others but i don't want to ruin it. :)

Timeline: Still during Sam's soulless year and Dean's apple pie one for SPN and still 12 years after the final battle for HP.

Disclaimer: I do not own neither Harry Potter nor Supernatural.

Devil In Disguise (Oh Yes You Are)

Harry loved America, it was big and messy and it felt like you could do anything there. The magic in the air was so different than in London where it was being contained and suffocated like a lion circling in a cage that wanted nothing more than to escape and go play but here, here it was wild and chaotic and it brushed against him like it wanted to draw Harry out of his shell, convince him to break the rules and just be.

It was euphoric.

And plus, he wasn't known here, he was just another guy, he was, well, he was just Harry.

Harry had come back to England because they were nowhere near solving the case, he supposed it had something to do with the sentient free magic here that probably used to be like the one in his home country but something, he didn't know what but longed to find out, had happened to make it like this, it wasn't normal.

The point was, it promised to be a long, drawn-out mission.

So he had dispatched his team to cover more ground and had taken two days off to see the kids and well… Ginny.

He had gone to their home first but couldn't stay long because heated hazel orbs kept flashing before his eyes and Harry hadn't been able to stop himself from getting hard at the memories that were so vivid he could almost feel the emptiness in his body, the ache in his throat, the marks that were still visible if you looked closely and Harry did stare at them just before wanking himself raw every bloody morning since that night.

It came back to him as soon as he had planted two feet on the ground and just like Sam had whispered darkly in his ear he was soon humiliatingly aroused in the middle of his living room. Harry dropped the Portkey to see red hair jumping at him and kissing him sweetly (where he needed hard), small hands on his neck (when he wanted strong big fingers gripping him, pushing and pulling him) and it felt wrong, so, so wrong.

She disgusted him and it took all his well-honed self-control not to cringe away form her nagging voice in his ear, her sugary scent feeling his nostril (where he wanted to push his nose into dirty long brown hair that smelled of blood and sweat) until he thought he would puke.

But he had endured (Harry don't you want to go to the theater, just the two of us? Harry, did you know that Malfoy had a baby? Harry, they're saying I took on a few pounds since the pregnancies in the Prophet, do you think it's true? You still think I'm beautiful though. Oh I love you honey!). He had told her he wouldn't be back from the USA for a long time, ignoring her vehement protests and then had flooed to Hogwarts as fast as his feet could carry him, his embarrassing hard-on long gone by now.

He had played Quidditch with Albus, James and Teddy for the day, laughing and flying with the wind blowing in his hair and the earthly scent of home in his face before going to see Lily, spoiling her and talking with her for the rest of the day.

Harry had a smile on his face and didn't feel so empty anymore when he got back to Wisconsin.

The feeling didn't last long and soon, the longing to be filled came back full force and the wild magic heavy on his skin made him go out determinedly, marching out of his room with one purpose in mind.

Harry found the first willing man in a dirty bar. The man took him out and fucked him raw on an alley wall. It was good but not nearly as close as what he had felt that night.

So Harry kept on finding anonymous American men that he forgot every morning as the sunlight washed over his sometimes-bruised face.

His nights were filled with grunts, groans, growls and moans, and fuck yes, yes, no deeper, harder, faster and more, more, more.

But it wasn't enough it was never enough.

Harry was in Colorado after having taken care of a nest of vampires that had been on its way to draining the entire town dry. It wasn't really his job but he couldn't possibly let innocent people be killed when he could do something about it. He hadn't been able to leave well enough alone and he was sure Hermione would have a fit about what she ridiculously called his saving-people thing but well, she wasn't here, was she? He thought smirking.

The vampires had been different than what he had learned in Defense Against The Dark Arts and what he remembered Sanguini being but he hadn't thought on it long, the atmosphere hovering above every part of this country probably affected them too, they had been bloody muggle vampires too…what a mess.

Anyway, he was nursing his wounds in the only bar in town, taking on a nest of eleven vampires alone hadn't been his finest moment but he had always been reckless.

Remus had once said it would be his downfall.

He shook his head to dispel the grim thoughts swirling in his mind and lifted his head to scan the few clients there with him; maybe he could find some temporary relief to blank his mind.

Yeah, he thought, fixing his vision on a blond guy in the corner watching him, neither tan nor scarred however he was at least taller and a bit bigger than him, blondie would do.

They were out of the pub not long after that cause Harry was not in the mood for flirting, he was rarely patient enough for it, the other man's hand already on his ass and Harry's hand caressing his torso tauntingly when the warm body next to his was suddenly ripped away.

Harry startled, immediately on alert when he heard a familiar wicked voice behind him and he tensed, "Well, well, well aren't you the promiscuous one bright eyes? Didn't I tell you, you were mine?" The man haunting his dreams whispered in the breeze, his tone dark and promising pain.

Harry shivered, he was going to turn around and face Sam when a powerful blow was downed on him, and then,



Sam was in Colorado doing his own gig, without his so called family, yeah right; they were more like whiny ants that kept getting in his way. So he had left them at the Campbell compound and had gone hunting alone cause he was fucking good at it, better than any of them, better than Dean used to be and he was tired of having to explain himself at every corners, of the way they would sometimes looked at him like there was something wrong with him.

He damn well knew he was fucked up beyond reason.

But he was sharper, stronger, he was never scared anymore, nothing was clouding his mind, he just went in ready to fight and kill and sometimes, even play with his prey.

When he was hunting he had a goal in mind and he got restless when he went too long without it, if he didn't have a purpose, it could be killing a monster or reaching orgasm then he was lost, he was nothing again.

So he hunted restlessly, never tired, throwing himself into fights he shouldn't have ever came out alive of, just tearing his way through hundreds of freaks, sometimes he thought he was one himself but then he remembered that even they had fucking feelings.

Sometimes during the night he would have flashes of green entering his empty mind, it was fleeting but there and sharp and almost filling and he would wake up with an erection the size of Texas but as quickly it would be gone as he found another body to ravish, destroying them for any other people they would fuck with, he thought smirking slyly.

Sam arrived at the warehouse, machete in hand and the blood already pumping in his veins, sometimes the feeling of his heart thumping against his chest and the crimson liquid running beneath his skin was the only thing that reminded him that he was human and alive, to find burnt bodies littering the ground.

He dropped his hands and balled them into fists.

Damn it, now he had to go and find someone to fuck bloody.

Sam was walking down the street to what seemed to be the only bar in town, like in so many others in America. Watching with impassive eyes the people going on with their lives all around him, mothers with their strollers, fathers in suits, teenagers smoking pot in some park, children running around, white-picket fences, perfect gardens surrounding perfect houses…

Living in blissful ignorance of what comes out at night, of monsters, Sam snorted, not knowing that one was walking among them.

He finally arrived at his destination, the rain pouring down on him and the neon sign above the door crackling and flickering shedding the street in an ethereal glow that seemed to fit him like a glove, the shadows surrounding him and casting his tall form in darkness. Sam was smirking slightly at his thoughts and he was going to walk in when two men stumbling out of the door attracted his attention.

The smaller male turned his head in his direction and green filled his vision for the second time in his life and he stopped dead in his tracks.


His eyes darkened in remembered lust, huh, he wouldn't have to look too far then.

That's when he realized the position they were in, Harry practically draped over the blond man and said moron with a hand on his perked ass that Sam knew was firm and round and perfect.

A rumble rocked his chest and Sam realized he was growling like an insane beast, the two men hadn't noticed him yet and he heard Harry's accented voice dropping to a sultry tone and Sam felt something dark and twisted pooled inside of him taking him by surprise by the intense force of it. It mounted till his mind became clouded, his eyes filled with a red hue, his muscles coiled and rippled and his hands tightened, his nails biting his palms in barely restrained rage.

Sam was feeling something there, he didn't know what it was but he wasn't about to let it passed, he grabbed this scathing fury, God he wanted to hurt the blond male, wanted to carve into his stupid pretty boy face and then pound into the dark-haired male in the very blood he would have drawn from him.

Sam laughed humorlessly and without missing a beat, smirk firmly in place, he ripped the taller male from Harry dropping him into the ground effortlessly.

He saw Harry turned, crouching in defense, his entrancing emerald eyes shifting all over the place and Sam was almost cackling in glee. He let his voice drift toward the smaller man, purring the menacing words out.

Harry tensed at his tone but before he could turn and see Sam, he dropped his elbow on the uncovered and vulnerable neck and bright-eyes dropped unconscious.

Sam caught him before he could hit the muddy ground.

The warehouse would have to do, his green eyes was in need of a good punition, he thought smirking darkly, his hazel orbs boring down on the limp form in his arms.


Harry woke up bleary-eyed and his mind fuzzy until the event that had happened earlier caught up to him, Sam, and he realized anxiously that he was tied by the wrists from a decrepit ceiling, the scent of blood and burned flesh filling his nostrils, he gagged. His eyes widened in panic when he felt that he was actually gagged with a piece of clothe tightly wound in his mouth and around his head, Harry coughed and spitted, throwing his head from right to left but to no avail.

He was stark naked hanging from an iron chain in the warehouse where he had killed all those vampires, vulnerable and at the mercy of someone he knew had something wrong with him, within him, someone he knew was far from kind. Damn it, he should have listened to his magic when she had sizzled restlessly the moment he had touched Sam for the first time.

Harry tested the bonds holding him, and fuck, Merlin; they were tight and dug painfully into the tender flesh of his wrists. He was wandless, and well, wordless, in other words: he was so screwed.

He began chanting Solvo in his mind to see if he could do it anyway but he only heard the chains rattle ominously for a couple of seconds before it stopped, Harry knew he could do wandless but wordless was still a bit of a stretch for certain powerful spells and the counter-curse for Incarcerus was one of them…

Harry could feel the fear and panic of being in that position steadily growing and expanding in his chest until he could feel his heart painfully beating against his ribcage.

He shifted his eyes the best he could all around him trying to find something, anything, his breathing came out in pants that seemed so bloody loud echoing on the metal walls of the place, his body shivering and shuddering in the cool air of the room. Harry had wanted Sam again and again and again since they had parted but not like that for Merlin's sakes, and fuck, he knew what Sam looked like and even if he was good in hand-to-hand combat, he didn't stand a chance against the mountain of a man he remembered him to be.

The sound of a door opening loudly and clacking ominously behind him made Harry tensed, his shoulders straining as his mind blanked.

Harry heard footsteps slowly approaching him and he could all but imagine, Sam prowling towards him all predator-like, self-satisfied smirk pulling at his lips and that black gleam in his eyes regarding him. He shivered and his traitorous dick gave a twitch at the image his mind had conjured.

He closed his eyes when he heard the tall man coming to a stop right behind him, his warm breath on his pale neck and Harry could feel the goose bumps racking his frame, "Awake at last Sleeping Beauty?" Sam whispered lowly into the shell of his ear, "Good, we can finally get to the good stuff." Sam all but purred seductively and Harry let his head drop in defeat, eyes still closed as he could feel his member hardening by the second at just the freaking sound of this damnable voice.

Harry was painfully aware, even with his eyes shut, of Sam's every movements like he was a constant at the edge of his mind that he couldn't escape from.

He hated it as much as he loved it.

Sam was now in front of him, his hazel orbs dragging over his prone form sinfully, Harry could almost feel them caressing him and he shuddered in what he wanted desperately to be disgust but was, in fact, pleasure.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, open your eyes sweetheart." Sam crooned but Harry could hear the steel in the back of his words that made it an order.

He didn't heed it.

"I'd hoped you'd do that, you know, all the more fun for me." Sam said in a throaty voice like he was already imagining all the things he could do to Harry.

Harry felt a feather-like touch caressing the skin of his stomach with the tips of calloused fingers, "You know you want it Harry. I bet you thought about it for days, weeks after I fucked you. How you wanted it again and again and again."

And goddamn it, it was true, Harry had thought about it constantly like a virus growing in his head that kept whispering dirty things, a voice he had screamed at to shut up but hadn't been able to, hadn't been able to stop being constantly aroused by it.

And now, Harry was hard and from the gleeful dark laugh taunting him, Sam had noticed.

"See, your body doesn't lie Harry." Sam whispered the words on his jaw before licking it and biting his ear hard and painful and Harry whimpered pitifully.

Sam suddenly grabbed his chin in a strong grip that was sure to leave bruises and Harry struggled for all he was worth, shaking his head from side to side, bending his neck but Sam didn't budge, not that he had expected the tall man to.

"Open your eyes." Sam ordered harshly and there was none of the fake sweetness that had coated his voice and that, that was Sam, the real one and Harry was quickly realizing he was out of his depths.

He willed himself to go back to being soft but his cock just had other plans, even if he knew Sam was turning out to be a muggle psychopath, it didn't mean his cock did. For all it knew it was just the first man who had filled him and the one who Harry had been trying to find in every muscled man he had met on American soil.

His cock definitely stayed hard and he glared at it mentally.

A big hand squeezing him so much it was painful stopped his thoughts right there and he cried out behind the gag, his voice muffled and his eyes opening in surprised shock.

His vision was suddenly filled by tan skin, long brown hair, strong jaw and dilated pupils making hazel eyes almost black and, Merlin he had forgotten how handsome Sam was, his half-remembered fantasies not doing the man any justice.

"That's right, fuck, I could drown in them." Sam said staring at him hungrily as he tightened his hold on Harry's erection until he felt his eyes moistening.

That made Sam's eyes darkened all the more, "Beautiful", he whispered, "My beautiful whore aren't you?" And all Harry could do was whimper and moan helplessly in response.

"The things I want to do to you..." Sam said taking a step back like he wanted to admire his handiwork, like Harry was just a thing he was going to use, the thought shouldn't make Harry's prick swell even more. "You have no idea…" Sam muttered, "No fucking idea." He added more clearly, his eyes shining as they traveled from the tip of his toes, slowly climbing on his legs before fixing his hard cock with that damn smirk of his, onto his slightly scarred torso, fastening on his nipples as he licked his lips sensually and finally to his neck where Sam dropped a hand on the front of the prominent bulge Harry could see poking his pants, pressing one of his big hand on it raunchily and Harry could feel saliva pooling in the back of his mouth as a flashback from the first time he saw it came unbidden in his traitorous mind.

Harry lifted his green eyes that he hadn't even realized were staring at where Sam's right hand was in obvious lust to see a big smile on the other's face showing straight perfect white teeth pulling Sam's features into something threatening and a little bit manic. "You want that huh?" Sam questioned pulling at his zipper obscenely.

Harry gulped and could only stare wide-eyed and wary, feeling as if he were about to be eaten.

Which was probably not very far from the truth.

Sam took his shirt off slowly, seductively like he was bloody stripping for Harry but he couldn't really say anything or complain when perfectly tanned skin littered with scars, some he had seen, some new and Harry took a second to wonder about what Sam actually did for work to get those kind of marks but powerful muscles shifted gracefully for his eyes to feed on greedily and all those thoughts went out the proverbial window.

But Sam didn't take his jeans off, like he wanted to show Harry who had the power here, who was in control, like Harry wasn't already painfully aware of it.

"We're gonna have a bit of fun you and I, before you get to take it in your greedy hole, you little slut." Sam moved as he enounced the words for them to be pounded into Harry's skull, resonating in his mind, slut, fuck, that word coming out of that particular mouth shouldn't have that effect on him.

Harry felt wrong and a bit disgusted with himself.

The sentence came back full force in his clouded mind and he realized the real threat underlining the words and he fastened his eyes quickly on Sam's tall moving body. Watching his calculated steps like a hawk before he couldn't anymore as the taller male went into his peripheral vision until Harry couldn't see him at all and that made him tense for a second and then move restlessly in his binds, trying and utterly failing to turn around by balancing the chains.

The sharp tang of a big hand slapping the right cheek of his ass, the pain ringing in is all body startled in him in a choked off sound that was something between a moan and a half-hearted protest.

"Shh, shh." Sam said reprimanding, he slapped him again on the same spot and his all body moved under its force, Sam's other hand gripped his left hip harshly, nails digging into his skin until it touched bone and as Harry cried out looking downwards, he saw blood welling in four red rivulets sliding along his leg and dripping on the floor, "Are you scared?" Sam asked and when Harry didn't do anything but clamping his muscles, he slapped him again with even more force, "Answer me."

Harry nodded frantically feeling his neck cracking at the urgent move.

"Good. You should be." Sam whispered lowly in his ear, biting the appendage with a forceful snap of his teeth like he wanted to break his fragile skin.

He thankfully didn't.

Then Sam let his hand blow on his rear once again.






And the rhythm became onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineteneleven…

Until Harry couldn't count anymore, his eyes closing in shame as his cock became wet with precome that began to pool at the flushed red tip before it began to drip on the floor in a mockery of what his blood was doing, the sounds sloppy and wet in the otherwise empty room.

His mouth wide open with spit on its corners, letting out a string of, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah that followed the beat of Sam's spanking. Sam was growling and groaning like a wild beast behind him and those sounds filling his ears made him moan even more loudly, "You like that?" Sam groaned not stopping to ask but just continuing his treatment and Harry tried to stop himself from moaning wantonly, biting his lips around the clothe until a sharp coppery tang filled his mouth but another one and fuck, Harry couldn't even feel his limbs anymore, was becoming numb, made him moan gravelly, his voice foreign to his own ears, "That's what I thought, I remember you liked it like the dirty whore you really are, for me, only for me." Sam added, muttering the last words darkly.

It stopped.

Harry dropped, the chain the only thing keeping him upward and stretching his arms, his knees bent and failing him, Harry felt like his entire body was failing him when he saw the splash of come covering the floor, every gulps of air racked his entire body in painful spasms, he slumped.

Thoughts of running away gone, along with the coherent part of his brain.

Harry felt a strong hand going through his hair in a soothing back and forth, and he was glad for the reprieve as he eagerly pushed into it before he stopped in shameful realization, Sam was fucking petting him.

He snarled, teeth bared and lips pulled but Sam only laughed in delight, "Feisty little thing you are." He exclaimed with a flourish like Harry could do nothing to him which Harry knew he couldn't but damn it, he had defeated Voldemort and here he felt like nothing more than a trapped kitten, oh how Tom would laugh if he could see him right now.

The fingers in his messy mop of hair curled slowly then Sam gripped it and bended his neck harshly and Harry choked at the sudden move. He could see him on his left, all lust-blown orbs and smirking face, "I like that." He whispered smiling but Harry saw through dazed eyes that it was nothing more than a grimace.

Sam then proceeded to bite him, his lips clamping on his thin neck like a vice and Harry tried to struggle but his movement were sluggish and he could only let out a muffle cry as the shaggy-haired man continued to lick and tear at his skin like it was a feast, all teeth and growls until he drew blood and Harry could see from the corner of his watery eyes in distant horror, a bit of skin being ripped off.

Sam only swallowed.

Harry's cock hardened once again and he wanted to puke.

His torturer went around to face him and Harry blearily lifted half-lidded eyes, not even having any force to glare at his stupidly tall frame.

He heard a zipper being slowly drown open like Sam couldn't keep it in anymore, like it was too painful for him to do so, the sound warningly loud in the otherwise silent room.

Something shiny caught his attention and Harry scrambled up, his muscled grinding and bones snapping at the panic-filled action when he realized it was a knife, sharp and clean and there in Sam's right hand, the hilt of it engulfed by his closed fist.

Sam watched this with ill-concealed amusement.

The tall man approached him and Harry tried to back away in despair with the only force he had left but he couldn't, he fucking couldn't as Sam laughed throaty and low and deliberate, a sound that made Harry's insides churn and turn pleasantly even as his skin crawled in anguish.

When Sam was only feet away, his arm shot out, his hand enveloping his neck and Harry stopped his useless protests and his screaming downed until it was only pitiful drawn-out whimpers. The hand didn't tighten or did anything, it was just there slowly caressing his neck, just a warning of what he could actually do if only he wanted to.

"Sorry about that sweetheart but you see it seemed I need to remind you of something." Sam said lightly then he dropped to his knees in front of Harry who widened his eyes cause he wasn't about to suck him was he? He thought incredulously.

Sam laved his right hip with his tongue, licking it with broad sweep and Harry mewled at the gentle gesture, hazel eyes looked up at him in sick pleasure and Harry only got a smirk and a sweet press of his lips on his hipbones in a shallow form of a kiss as warnings before Sam moved and planted the knife there.

Harry screamed.

It wasn't deep, it wasn't meant to kill but fuck, Merlin, Morgana, bloody hell, did it hurt.

Then Harry became numb to it as the kneeling man appeared to carve something into his skin, he couldn't make it out as he stared down because his eyes were rolling in their sockets, closing and opening, the world tilting, bile rising up in his throat that he couldn't quite swallow as his throat was dry and raw, his cries scratching, gurgling around the gag in a jumble of inhuman sounds.

He let his head drop and prayed for it to stop.

After excruciating minutes, seconds, hours, he didn't really know, it did stop, Sam got up, the bloody blade forgotten on the ground and took a step back like he was looking at a piece of art, "Now, you're perfect." He murmured, forcing his barely conscious form to bent and look at what he had done, Harry's eyes still widened significantly when he saw the two distinctly majuscule letters, S W carved into his left hip like a brand.

"W standing for Winchester by the way. You understand now, don't you Harry?" Sam asked in a sweetly sick tone, rolling the two r of his name with his tongue and Harry nodded because he wasn't sure he could live through any more punishment right now. "That's what I thought." He whispered harshly, "You're mine." He added in emphasis.

Then Sam pulled out his cock tugged on it two times watching his mark with his pupils swallowing the hazel till' it became a dark stormy grey, walked behind Harry and…

…Entered him swiftly with no preparation, nothing and Harry cried hoarsely cause his voice had broken sometime ago.

Merlin but Sam was so big, bigger than any of the other men he had had lately and he filled him everywhere within him until Harry could feel it at the back of his throat. Then the taller man backed out completely, waited and Harry was about to try and turn when long fingers grabbed the back of his neck and Sam went in again in a curved, smooth, hard thrust battering his prostate head on and Harry remembered why this particular man had been in his every thoughts, he moaned, "Saa-" his name muffled by the gag.

And Sam began to pound into him with forceful snap of his hips in his pliant body, pulling him by his neck, pushing him by his ass, grinding and scratching with his nails, one hand suddenly going for his nipples twisting and pinching them painfully and Harry mewled, so full-up he couldn't even bother remembering to breathe.

"You're mine to hurt, mine to fuck, mine to bleed, mine to fill with my cock, mine to paint with come." Sam growled out licking and biting everywhere, there was not a single part of him not marked by this man, his big hands mapping out his body with the red liquid still on them, smearing it all over him.

And Harry was so, so shamefully hard and wet and leaking.

"After I fucked you like a bitch, you went out wanting to be drilled again, for your hole to be used like I did but I bet all those sons of bitches weren't enough, bet you only thought, fuck, only thought of my cock when you were barely filled with their pathetic dicks." Sam grunted and Harry was moaning and keening continuously a string of Sam, and oh, hmm, hmm, ah, ah, Sam, fu-nng-ck, lips slack, drooling, eyes vacant and rolling, head lolling, muscles lax in the man's grasp.

Sam suddenly lost his steadiness, putting two thick bloodied fingers in his mouth and stretching his lips uncomfortably wide, battering within him, in and out becoming in-out searching frantically for his own orgasm inside of Harry's used asshole, his thrusts desperate and fast and deep and hard turning harder and deeper and faster.

Harry was just there to take it.

And he did.

There was pressure building up in his stomach, making his balls tighten and he tried to fight it off, he really did, didn't want to give Sam the satisfaction of seeing him coming but it was just so difficult. The air was hot and heavy on his skin, Sam's rough breathing and dirty words in his ear, the cool blood and dried semen sliding in between his legs, the slaps and snaps of their fucking echoing and reverberating in the room.

It was just too much.

A slap from Sam's wide hand went down on his already hot and vulnerable ass and that was it, that was the sharp sting that just did it, he whined and moaned lowly, his entire body moving and trembling with the force of his orgasm, the room spinning and his come squirting out of his swollen cock in thick ropes, and he could feel his walls vaguely clamp down on Sam's manhood.

Harry had the passing thought that he had never been able to come untouched with the other blokes; it was only Sam.

A long drawn-out and guttural, "Fuuucckk", followed by whispered, "So pretty, so good and so mine-"

"Sam." He managed to breathe out.

And he was only vaguely aware of Sam choking off a groan, coming and filling him up until Harry thought he could burst with it.

The intensity of the encounter, the sheer wrongness of it, the blood loss catching up to him in a dizzying rush, every thing, it was all too much.

Harry blacked out.

At least he thought he did, when he opened his eyes again he had been lowered and was sprawled on the cold floor covered in dried vampire blood mixing with his own and dry come. He saw two brown boots from his point of view and lifted his eyes with great effort to the standing, perfectly composed figure of Sam looking down at him wearing his smirk like it had been painted on him at his bloody birth.

"Have you learned anything Harry?" Sam questioned with fake humor.

"Yours." Harry croaked out feeling his entire chest constricting at only one word.

"Good boy. That's right lovely. Mine." He whispered staring at him intensely, the hunger still there somewhere in the back of his clear hazel orbs.

Sam then pocketed his now clean razor-like blade and marched out long limbs swallowing the ground in four powerful strides, opening the door and Harry could only watch from his position on the floor as the man left him, left him spitting and trembling and hacking, discarding him after he had used him.

Sam stopped at the door turning around, "See you around bright-eyes." The door clicked shut after his strong back had disappeared from the threshold, a pleased laugh following his exit.

Bloody. Fucking. Hell.

Harry thought staring at the ceiling where he had been attached just moments before then he laughed, laughed and laughed hysterically because if he didn't, he would start crying.


Sam knew he should be horrified at what he had done, Sammy would be, well, scratch that, Sammy wouldn't have done it, least of all thought about it.

And maybe the nothingness wasn't so bad; it seemed a hell of a lot more fun.

Sam could live with what he had done and lived all the more because of it actually. He had definitely felt something when he had slashed his initials into the pale white skin of Harry and maybe, he thought, maybe he could only feel dark, twisted and sick emotions now.

Maybe that was it.

He had lashed out, painted all his frustrations and emptiness in blood and come smearing it on the beautiful green eyes that were his damnation as much as his salvation. He had been like in a trance from all he had been doing, filling his brain and making his hands tremble at the sheer power of it, it was like he was on drugs or something.

Sam couldn't get enough and he had left because he hadn't wanted to kill bright-eyes.

Now, a hunt and he would feel on top of the world, he thought, feeling a genuine smile pulling at his lips, it felt foreign but he let it take over his features for the first time in what felt like forever.


Harry had been hiding behind glamours and lying through his teeth to every one since he was back from another break in his mission (one he had asked for…) to Ginny and the children, to Teddy and Andromeda, to Kingsley and his team and everybody else in the bloody Ministry.

But when he came to the Burrow and he hadn't even put one step in the shackle house that Ron and Hermione were already, immediately honing in on him and pointedly staring at him.


He knew he was fucked.