Leverage

Leverage

By Journeyman Harper

JourneymanHarper@yahoo.com

Harry Potter, and all the characters and references to that wonderful world are property of J. K Rowling, Scholastic Publishers, Warner Brothers, and their respective holders.

This story is fiction (of course), and is compliant with all seven books. It takes place in HBP. It is pretty dark, and contains a bit of aggressive and dominating sexual experience, so if that isn't for you or you are not allowed to read it, do not continue. I usually don't write like this, but this was special

Welcome to Leverage!

Harry awoke, drenched in sweat. He had slowly managed after all these months to establish some Occlumency in his private lessons with Snape. But that had not kept his dreams under his control, and Voldemort still invaded his nights. Even though he knew he could not, the lack of sleep and the mental anguish were wearing him down. This wasn't working fast enough.

He had been screaming in his sleep again. He knew that because Dean, Seamus, Ron, and Neville were all surrounding his bed, with varying expressions of irritation and sympathy. He had done this his entire time at Hogwarts, but it was significantly worse this sixth year. As usual, they all offered to help, but there was nothing they could do.

As the others went back to bed, Ron climbed into Harry's bed and just sat close to him. The proximity often helped him, just because it was a tangible, sensory source that kept him in his own reality, and not Voldemort's. Harry shuddered again.

"Department of Mysteries again?"

"Yeah."

Ron was silent. He hated feeling helpless. "I've got more Dreamless Sleep potion here from Madam Pomfrey. I told her you had trouble sleeping but didn't want to cause a fuss, and she gave me some for you."

Harry smiled. They really did try. "Thanks Ron, but that stuff leaves me really foggy the next day." He paused, shuddered again, and then said, "On second thought, give me a little." Ron handed him the bottle, and Harry took a swig, and passed it back.

"You know, Harry, you should talk to Fred and George. They could probably adjust Dreamless Sleep so that it doesn't have the after-effects."

That was, actually, a brilliant idea. "I will." He hugged Ron, and gently traced his tongue across the back of Ron's neck.

"Harry, .."

"I know, but I can't resist when you are this close in my bed. What would Hermione say?"

"Leave room for me?" And that sent them laughing quietly, and Ron returned to his bed.

Harry was gay. All his friends knew it for sure, and many suspected. Ron was straight, but their friendship left room for some interpretation on that. Ron knew that Harry needed to show affection to someone, and as long as it wasn't overt, Ron had decided that receiving it would be OK. He had almost kind of started enjoying some of the little things. But no matter what, the couple times they had had sex Ron had been a tolerant partner, not an enthusiastic one. That kept Ron grinning slightly. He was doing his part to keep Harry together. And by the looks of it, he was going to have to again pretty soon.

Harry lay in bed, awake after the others had drifted off. Neville was moaning in his sleep again. But, with the rhythmic wiggling that accompanied it, he realized that Neville was dreaming in the throes of sex with something. Maybe Professor Sprout? He giggled. Someday Neville would be a right upstanding wizard, but right now he was a kid having a wet dream, and a good one at that. Why couldn't Harry have dreams like that, instead of the terror of Voldemort?

Somehow he made it through the next couple days. Hedwig went off with his note to the twins, and then when she did return he read the note alone. Ron had told Hermione to stay out of this; she wasn't THAT good in potions. No one could top the Weasley twins in adapting stuff for new purposes. This wasn't something that was casually shared, either.

The twins had come back with a classic response. Harry actually grinned and blushed as he read the note, and the small package that went with it. Leave it to them to figure a way.

Ron saw Harry return with a note, a package, and a bright red face in a furtive manner. Any one of those would have caught his attention, and so he bolted up the stairs after him that evening to their beds.

"What did they say? It must be good."

Harry handed him the note. Ron read quietly:

Dear Harry,

This should help you out. It is Dreamful Sleep Potion. We developed it for quite a different purpose, however, but it will certainly give you a very intense, powerful, positive dream with no side effects in the morning. Try some, and if it works for you, we'll ship you a case free of charge.

Fred Weasley.

PS - George made me tell you that its principal purpose is for highly erotic dreams, so use carefully!

"Oh Harry, I don't know about this."

Harry had been silent, but the thought of another night of Voldemort was beyond his tolerance. "Ron, I don't care if I soak the bed a hundred times, if I can at least sleep it would be worth it."

Ron looked at him with sympathy. "Guess so. Just the same, I'll keep a watch for you when you take it. Make sure you wake me, OK?"

"OK."

The night got later, and the young men got ready for bed. Most drifted off easily. Ron had stayed awake extra, eventually but sleep overtook him. Harry lay in bed, staring at the structure of the bed above him, and with the criss- crossing beams in his eyes he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Voldemort waited later tonight, but the moon was high when he plunged into Harry's mind, taunting and challenging. Tonight he alternated between the red-eyed snake-like cadaver that was his body now, and the young man who had been Tom Riddle. The sneer, the cold superiority, the invasion though remained consistent. His Occlumency was a weak barrier that fell quickly.

"HARRY!"

His world exploded into the face of Ron, shaking him awake. "You were thrashing all around again, really badly."

True, Harry's bed was a mess. Exasperated, he and Ron put it to rights and they climbed in again together. He could still feel Voldemort on the edge of his consciousness, waiting for the defenseless sleep to return and open the doors to his favorite mental playground. Disgust roiled through Harry, and his eyes swept through their spectacles to fall on the vial of Dreamful Sleep. He was ready.

Ron saw his gaze rest on the vial. "You really want to try that stuff?"

"How bad could it be? It has to be better than Voldemort."

"Do you have to say the name?"

"Yes."

A sigh.

Harry leaned over, took the vial, and uncorked it. "First test: how does it smell?" He sniffed the vial suspiciously.

At once a light tingle brushed him, from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toenails. The fragrance was sweet and delicate, with a faint touch of chamomile and honey. The directions said no more than three drops, and so Harry placed three drops on his tongue, and placed the stopper in the vial.

Drowsiness over took him. He looked at Ron, smiled winsomely, and said, "I think I will sleep now. I can feel it." Then a wild surge of sensuality flooded him as he yawned. "Oh God, this feels good!" His hands automatically went for the nearest cock.

"HEY!" That happened to be Ron, in this position. Ron got up, wary, as Harry settled in. His hands moved and became well buried under the covers on his own growing hardness, and his eyes drooped shut. Ron watched him for a few minutes, and then went back to bed. Moaning he could take; screaming and thrashing were the disturbing part.

Harry felt the potion overtake him. Slowly the world came together, and he found himself reeking sex as he prowled Hogwarts. He could feel absolutely every swish of his robes, the caress of the silk shirt and tight leather pants he was wearing. Every movement touched his very hard cock in a particular way that brought it nearer and nearer in excitement. Even his nipples joined in, hardening to the touch of silk. Deep purple silk. He swaggered through the halls, looking for the one who would satisfy him.

Other students stopped to stare and smile appreciatively. Some were affected so far that the boys had to drop their hands to their most sensitive places and adjust themselves. Maybe it was just an excuse to get a passing touch in. But they all reacted, as if a wave of sexual tension preceded Harry as he went after his goal. The further that he went, the hungrier the faces were around him. But he knew where he was going. And with relentless heat, in his dream Harry made his way to the Slytherin common room.

A part of Harry was just outside the dream. It was like he was living the role, but from a supervisory perspective. He felt that if he wanted to, he could leave at any time. No fucking way! And especially when he espied his goal, sitting in a sofa with the platinum blond hair, looking so available, yet vulnerable.

The power rush filled Harry. "Draco, " he drawled. "Come service me." And Draco came over, his eyes wanton and his lips moist. Harry folded him into his embrace, and crushed his mouth onto Draco's. He savored the moment, receiving satisfaction, and then broke the kiss.

"I am yours, Master." The words were the ultimate submittal to Harry's control, and Harry pushed Draco up against the smooth stone wall. His eyed burned fire and his loins strained against their confines as he deliberately ground his body against Draco's. The sensations were overwhelming, and the total domination he had over Draco surged and encouraged him. Draco made whimpering, submissive sounds as Harry ravaged him.

Harry stepped back to admire his handiwork. Draco was flushed all over, breathing hard, and his eyes begging for more. This is surreal, thought Harry, but I am loving every minute of it. He snapped his fingers, and Draco's clothing melted away, revealing the naked and perfect body beneath that was desperate to be his sexual playground. Aching for release, he pushed Draco downwards onto his knees.

"Show me how much you want it."

Draco all but attacked Harry's waist and below with hands, face, tongue and mouth. The leather pants felt exquisite between them, and with Harry's nod Draco drew the clingy garment downward, exposing the object of everyone's desire: Harry's very hard, very large, very long cock. Draco gasped in amazement and fear, and yet also desperate longing as he began to tease the very tip with his tongue. Harry closed his eyes as the tongue lashing continued and intensified.

But something was different. Draco had become more aggressive, more dominant. Harry considered surrendering to that turn of events. Being a bottom had its definite advantages. But this was Draco! He would never bottom for Draco. He opened his eyes and looked down on the form that was giving him so much pleasure.

It wasn't Draco anymore. The hair was black, the skin pale white, and the mouth that surrounded him was curled in what could only be a sneer. He felt the rake of teeth across him, and that was definitely not for him. It was the eyes that he recognized, finally. Young Tom Riddle was taking control.

Fear and then rage flew through Harry. It was obvious that Voldemort had snuck into his mind again, disturbing his sleep, ready to harass and attack. The potion had set the context Well, he wasn't going to give in so easily. It had been incredible so far. Hmmmm..

In his dream, Harry pulled off of Riddle, and slapped him lightly across the face. "No teeth." Amid Riddle's surprise and irritation, Harry firmly led his dream down a different path. He noticed that Tom Riddle still had his robes on. "Remove your robes. Slowly. Tantalize me." And Harry folded his arms to watch.

Riddle stood there, anguish rolling across his face. Harry leaned into the dream, somehow forcing its direction. He was counting on the power and the thoroughness of the potion from the Weasley twins. While theirs was not a direct power against Voldemort, this was Harry's mind and Voldemort had to work in order to get into it. He hoped that that would level the playing field.

It was as if his body wouldn't resist the dream, and the mind knew it. Tom Riddle, totally against his will began a sensual and tantalizing strip-tease with his robes, His face showed the hatred and disgust in his eyes, and his eyebrows, but even his mouth could not countermand the dream. Harry savored the moment. If Voldemort was truly doing this, he would be absolutely seething with frustration.

"All the way, Tom. I want to see your unquenchable desire to serve me in the ways I like best." And grinding his teeth, in the most sultry scowl ever seen, Tom Riddle let drop his final clothing article, and stood naked before Harry.

This was Harry's dream. Harry was in a top role. So when he saw Riddle's meager cock, he laughed out loud. Humiliation. The power rushed through Harry again, and his laugh turned to mockery.

"Is that all you have?"

Tom Riddle's face grew redder and redder. Harry wasn't sure if it was frustration and fury, or the embarrassment. Certainly, Voldemort hadn't been embarrassed in many, many years.

"Answer me!" Harry wanted to hear his voice.

Tom growled between his teeth. But the voice that came out was quiet, regretful. "Yes." If Tom could have caught fire, he would have as the anger was blazing so hard out of him.

"Tsk, tsk. You forgot to say `Master'." Forcing the issue. Making him back off. That was what Harry was doing.

Tom's face contorted in fury, but the Dreamful Sleep potion was in full control.

"Yes, Master."

Harry purred, "Much nicer. Now close your eyes and stay perfectly still." And as Tom did so, Harry stepped around him to get a good look at his body. Very nice. His cock wasn't really all that small, but he had to mock it. And that butt would be so tight for penetration . yes, that is how this might end. He completed his circle.

"Open your mouth wide, and suck me like the desperately horny boy you are. Keep your eyes closed. No teeth."

Harry guided himself into Tom's mouth, and the most miraculous blowjob he could imagine took place. After a few moments he could feel Tom begin to reassert himself. Hmmm. This Dreamful Sleep potion seems to be strongest when the dreamer is non-passive. Good. He took his hands, placed them on either side of Tom's head and began to actually thrust his cock into Tom.

"Tom, Tom, Tom. I want to hear how much you like this, and how much you want this. You do, of course." And Tom began to moan with each thrust from Harry, and more as Harry deliberately pushed himself more and more down Tom's throat. But Harry still wanted to take it farther.

"I'm not convinced, Tom. I know you want to suck me more than anything else there is." He pulled out of him, and Tom looked up at him with a desperately hungry expression on. Only the eyes betrayed the seething disgust. Harry slapped his face lightly again, not to cause discomfort, really but to show just how trivial and insignificant Tom was to him. "If you don't play nice, I won't allow you to beg to suck me."

Tears of regret formed in Tom's agate eyes. "Please, Master, let me try again. I beg of you for lenience." The words were low, intense, and had the undertone of abhorrence from Voldemort.

"Tom, I will take from you what I want. Do not hold me back, but show me how much you want and love it like I know you do." And Harry firmly took hold of Tom's head, and began the deep and satisfying face-fuck that he new would drive Voldermort crazy. Of course, it felt really, really good in the dream too. And it worked well enough that he could drive his entire cock all the way down into Tom, until Tom's face was pressed tightly into Harry's curly hairs. He held him there, buried deep, and wiggled ever so slightly to feel his entire length gently rub. This was good, but he knew what was better. He pulled off Tom.

"You wanted to ask me something, Tom? To beg for .?"

It was a quiet whisper, that was obviously the outcome of the incredible battle between Voldemort and the potion. "Fuck me."

Harry slapped his face again. "Say it nicely."

"Please Harry, I beg of you to fuck me." Each word came out with supreme effort.

"Oh yes, Tom, I think I will fuck you." Harry felt so absolutely dominant that this wouldn't last long, but he was going to make sure he got the ride of his life. Bareback. "On your hands and knees, Tom. Present me with your ass."

The positions changed. This would not be making love; this was about pounding ass. Tom got down, making his ass available while leaning forward far enough that his head and chest were on the rug. His knees were spread, and his balls swayed back and forth. Harry couldn't help himself, and had a little play at Tom's expense.

"Tom, Tom, your ass isn't red enough. Don't you ever get out? I will have to redden it for you, just a little bit." And Harry began to spank him, landing a dozen or so good smacks on the upturned ass in front of him. After all, the game here is domination.

Harry looked at his handiwork, and had one more idea. "Tom, I am not convinced of your total submission to me. You resisted my correction. That will have to be punished. Beg for it and my approval."

The boy in front of him shuddered. "Please, punish me for my oversight. I am so sorry, Master."

Harry gently cupped Tom's balls as they hung freely. "Here is how I will punish you, Tom. You must not forget this, ever, that I am the one with the power to crush your balls, and you begged me to do it." And his grip tightened slightly.

"Yes, Master!"

"Beg!"

"More, please!"

And Harry tightened his grip.

"More, please!" Pain was evident in his voice.

And Harry tightened his fist on Tom's balls more, pulling slightly downward. Tom gasped in anguish, and Harry leaned on the dream as hard as he could. He wanted one more from Tom.

The Dreamful Potion was nearing its limits. But Harry got what he wanted. With a cry of agony, he hurled the words out. "M-more, please!!" And Harry tightened one last final time as Tom began sobbing with the pain. Harry pulled down, so that the sac was taught from his body, the two firm balls all but oozing between his fingers, and then he released.

"I am satisfied." And Harry's clothes dissolved as he started the ultimate fuck. His cock slid effortlessly into Tom, although Tom hissed as his opening stretched to accommodate Harry. Harry's cock was, at least in the dream, long, somewhat thick, but rock hard. And Tom's ass was taught and tight, just barely accommodating Harry. Harry grinned. He wasn't there to torture, but to humiliate. And that was what he was going to do.

Back in his hideout, Voldemort was only barely aware of the rubble around him. His violent outbursts at what was being done to him by Harry were the reaction of an emperor gone wild in his imprisonment. He loathed the whole thing, and the submission to a Muggle (!!) was more than he could bear. He just had to hold out long enough to get back in control. But he ground what was left of his teeth in ultimate, towering frustration as that little pipsqueak forced him into the mental submission game. When Potter was back in his clutches, he would show him a thing or two about sadism.

Harry, meanwhile continued the dream with the ultimate fuck. He was well on his way and the feelings were delicious and satisfying. He was ready for the next step. It would drive Voldemort insane with frustration.

"Tom, you aren't appreciating me." He reached around, grabbed Tom's balls hard and yanked. Tom yelped in pain. And Voldemort pounded the floor in frustration as Tom began cooing and begging for it. He whispered desperate words, alternating with "deeper" and "harder."

Harry had one last act left. He reached forward, grabbed Tom's think black hair and slowly pulled him upwards. One hand in his hair, stretching his long torso in a semicircle and forcing his spine into a curve, jutting that hot ass out just a little bit more so Harry could pound just a little bit deeper, he said the words that Voldemort could not abide.

"Tom, whimper in gratitude. Whimper like a bitch in heat."

One high pitched whimper escaped from him, and then suddenly the hair turned blond, the skin changed, and it was Malfoy impaled on his long cock. Harry slammed into him and came in both ecstasy and victory.

They separated, and Malfoy looked back at him with tears in his eyes. "Thank you, Master."

"You have pleased me, Draco." And Draco melted into the background as Harry flashed back into the hall, up the stairs, through Gryffindor and back to his bed.

When he woke, the sun was streaming in the windows, and his friends were all waking up. Ron looked at him quizzically.

"Harry, did you sleep?"

Harry grinned a mile wide. "Oh God, yes! Ron, it worked! And what's really brilliant, I drove him out of my head."

Ron gaped. "He got into your dream?"

Harry nodded. "He kept trying to take over. But the potion and I wouldn't let him." Harry smirked in satisfaction. "I all but raped him as Tom Riddle in my dream, and you could tell it was driving him crazy."

Ron shuddered. "Creepy. Sounds like a nightmare."

"For him." Harry stretched again. "I feel great." And with that lighter step and strategy, Harry now had one defense against the mental skills of Lord Voldemort.

Author's Note:

I had had a bad day, and the idea of a sexual sleep aid would have been just what I needed. Too bad Fred and George weren't around, I could have used some Dreamful Sleep! Sometimes the short works are the most satisfying, but I've never written this dark before and probably won't again. I actually wrote one that was darker than this, but I doubt Nifty would let me upload it. Some works are not meant to be shared.

The Journeyman Harper JourneymanHarper@yahoo.com