themostepotente | Porn In Motion Challenge - Waking Up The Dead (DM/HP

Title: Waking Up The Dead
Pairing: DM/HP - surprise appearance at the end by ?
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Harry pays St. Mungos a visit.
Kinks: Necrophilia - no, I'm not kidding :-)
Disclaimer: Oh so not mine. This market's been cornered.
A/N: For the 'Porn In Motion' Challenge at

pornish_pixies. I URGE you to read this through, because like most of what I write, there is a twist ending. You will be pleasantly surprised. *grins*

For

switchknife. For letting me play in her sandbox,

pornish_pixies.

Harry ran a fingertip down the list of departments at St. Mungo's, looking nervously both ways for unexpected company. It was well past the hospital's visiting hours, but given the nature of his visitation, he wasn't taking any unnecessary chances. The last thing he wanted was to have The Boy Who Lived splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet in this particular context. The Welcome Witch was off duty, but the halls were still patrolled by internal security, a precautionary measure taken after a few 'unexplained' deaths.

Ground Floor: Artefact Accidents
First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries
Second Floor: Magical Bugs
Third Floor: Potion and Plant Poisoning
Fourth Floor: Spell Damage
Fifth Floor: Visitor's Tearoom and Hospital Shop

It wasn't listed, but Harry knew the morgue was underground - and how to get there. He stepped into the lift, pausing before his courage could desert him. Harry was overcome by a swarm of intestinal butterflies that somehow felt more like bats. This is crazy, he thought to himself, frozen in place and unable to exit when the automatic double doors parted. But something within - the chained beast of his psyche was struggling for independence. It needed to live. It needed to breathe. And tonight, it would do just that and get it out of his mind - for good, he hoped.

When he stepped out, the corridors were dark, eerily lit for brief moments when spirits of the dearly departed passed through walls before him. Harry needed an illumination spell to find his way to room B-100, the necropsy room. The portrait of the hospital's first mediwizard examiner was snoring loudly, handlebar moustache flapping in the breeze. It took several 'ahems' before the portrait stirred, clearly agitated at being interrupted in his sleep.

"Password?" He asked, eyeing Harry with disfavour.

"Autopsy-turvy." It was amusing, Harry thought, but clever. The door sounded for admittance, and the portrait of the mediwizard examiner resumed its eyelid inspection. Using his index finger, Harry hesitantly pushed the door open, stepping inside. It was just as it had been described - compulsively sterile. Even if Harry couldn't see the room at its brightest and whitest, the smell of antiseptic permeated his nostrils and stung. Still, the hint of death lingered on the air - wrongful death, the kind that numbs the mind, chills the bone - and arouses.

Harry crossed the room to the drainage trolley, and there, looking just as princely in death as he had in life, was Draco Malfoy. He was paler than normal with an unnatural sheen to his skin from post-mortem cleansing. Using a brilliance spell - luminosus - Harry intensified the light his wand produced for a closer inspection. Arousal bloomed in the pit of his belly at the luminous stillness of Draco's beauty. The radiating heat did little though to stifle the chill emanating from Draco's rapidly decreasing body temperature, no longer ninety eight point six degrees. Harry pried Draco's eyelids open noting pupil dilation had made them as black as Snape's and shuddered. Yes, he thought to himself, the only good Malfoy was a dead Malfoy.

Harry's skin prickled with excitement, and he nearly fell in his haste to get himself undressed, the chill of the room assaulting bared skin. With trembling hands, he took Draco's hand from its position beside his hip, rubbing his cock against Draco's knuckles. Harry hissed with pleasure at the sight of his precome dirtying the onyx of Draco's signet ring as if this somehow tainted the Malfoy bloodline. Harry's prick throbbed, fingers gleaming wetly already. Hastily, Harry turned Draco onto his stomach, the wet fingerprints left behind on pristine skin enough to make him groan. The trolley was wider luckily, to accommodate the heavier corpses, and there was just enough room at the bottom to manoeuvre once he'd scaled it. It wasn't as much of a struggle to flip Draco's body as he anticipated, and he let out a triumphant snicker when Draco's nose flattened against the metal plating, remembering how often he'd wanted to flatten Draco's nose for him for the past six years. It only took death to give him an opportunity.

Harry hoisted himself up and leaned forward, balancing his weight more evenly on the trolley. Reaching across to the metal tray table, Harry dug his fingers into the salve used to lubricate the dissection implements. Forceps, clamps, surgical tongs, and a self propelled circular bone saw gave Harry the impression that the mediwizard examiner was somewhat of a muggle-fascinated sadist. Although, glancing down at Draco, Harry had to admit he wasn't one to criticise others' perversions. He slathered his cock generously with the cold salve, and pushed apart Draco's thighs, sliding his coated fingers into his arsehole roughly. Disgustedly, Harry wiped his fingers off on Draco's buttocks, readying his entrance.

Push. Grunt. Push. Grunt.

Time brought upon rigor mortis, and with this, a temporary rigidity of the muscles, making the sweetest one most tight. Harry could only get himself in so far before it felt as if his cock would break from Draco's tightened sphincter muscles.

Harry leaned across Draco's body, curling his nimble fingers around the edges of the trolley. With each powerful thrust into Draco's arse, the trolley skated across the pristine linoleum, leaving blackened skid marks - Harry ignored it. He'd set his wand at the top of the table, and when his body slid upward towards the light, he drank in the sight of every imperfection of Draco's 'perfect' body - wizardpox scars and a tiny crescent-shaped birthmark just behind the corner of his jaw. Slamming into Draco and panting, Harry used the fleshy pad of his thumb to force Draco's eyelid open, wrenching his head around and pressing his lips to Draco's brusingly. "Watch me Draco. I'm fucking you. Fucking you good and hard, and there isn't a thing you can do about it. What would your father say?" Harry whispered tauntingly.

Before long, Harry had managed to drive the trolley to the far wall with his brutal thrusts. Dazed, he was only vaguely aware of the trolley's travel before it struck the wall several times - the sound resonating violently in his ears. Clamping down with his incisors on Draco's earlobe, Harry groaned before one last powerful plunge into Draco's depths and the uneven distribution of their weight sent the trolley on a collision course with the floor. Harry landed on Draco, still spasming inside his arse, breath hot against Draco's chilled throat. A soft but audible groan escaped Draco's lips, making Harry start before his reality reasserted itself from the fantasy. He was coming to, dammit, regaining the feeling from both petrificus and rigidis spells.

Draco's speech was slurred and his motor skills clumsy at best, as he tried ineffectually to shove Harry off him, but there was no mistaking his anger. "B-b-ruises w-weren't p-part of the d-deal, P-potter-r."

"You like where you are, Malfoy - under me. Abused, used, and bruised. I merely filled in for your father tonight." Harry hissed, giving Draco's hip one last vicious squeeze.

"F-fuck you, P-potter-r." Draco flexed his fingers and toes, regaining feeling.

Harry slid his cock out of Draco, dismounting him. He helped Draco into a sitting position so that he could regain full strength somewhat comfortably. Pushing the tools off the metal tray loudly, Draco held it before him, using it as a makeshift mirror, still slumped against Harry.

"Honestly, Potter, was all of 'this' necessary? Theatrical makeup to give the appearance of death? This is going to clog my pores. I'm going to have to resort to bubotuber pus to..."

"Shhh," Harry quieted Draco. "I think I hear someone coming."

"Oh, relax, would you. Father has pull - even here. How do you think I got you the password? They'll turn a blind eye to anything we Malfoys do here." Draco shifted and grimaced under the abuse his body had taken under rigor mortis.

"I sincerely doubt that, Malfoy."

"Oh no?" Draco leaned in close, twitching involuntarily as the spell wore off. "Father draughts a cheque every month to keep the Longbottoms overmedicated and the staff blissfully ignorant."

Gritting his teeth, Harry snapped his wand at Draco's cock, muttering an engorgement charm and sneered when he yelped in pain. "Serves you right, Malfoy," he said, revelling in the tingling aftermath of Draco's agonized groan. Harry's satisfaction at having experienced his fantasy, however, was short lived as approaching footfalls made his heart sank. He clapped a hand over Draco's mouth silencing him before the young patriarch did something foolish.

"Get up, Malfoy. We need to get moving!" Harry whispered urgently.

The boys hastily gathered their things, crumpled clothing under their arms. "Come on - the supplies cupboard!" Harry urged, suggesting they hide. Opening the door slowly with a creak, they were shocked to find of all people standing in the door well, Gilderoy Lockhart, who moved much faster, or much more quietly than either of them had anticipated, and they froze in horror, staring at him.

"Boys, boys!" Gilderoy exclaimed, as if meeting former students naked in morgues were an everyday occurrence. "What are you doing here...and at this hour?"

"Err, uh..." Draco and Harry looked to each other for help.

"Well, um, Mr. Lockhart," Harry began, thinking quickly, if not clearly, and earned an elbow in his ribs from Draco for his troubles. "We, uh...were looking for you. For um, an autograph." Draco stared at him in horror.

"Really? Splendid!" Gilderoy patted down his robe pockets, beaming when he'd found his non-smearing marker. He couldn't remember his coming to St. Mungo's and for what reason, but even still, Lockhart was in his element, smiling prettily.

"Where shall I sign?" Gilderoy asked, looking them over and surprised to see Draco and Harry with matching erections displayed beneath their armfuls of clothes. "Oh my! Not my usual eight by twelve glossy, but who am I to say no to such adoring fans?" Before the boys could protest, Gilderoy was down on bended knee, loopy-fanciful handwriting marking each;

"To my biggest fan, GL."

Fin

Current Mood: amused

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

ntamara.livejournal.com

:: dies ::

:: quickly comes back to life ::

oh, priceless, I am glad I decided to have a look after all ;)

loved the 'only good malfoy is a dead malfoy', and lucius keeping the longbottoms all doped up *veg*

good one!

From:

Porn In Motion Challenge - Waking Up The Dead (DM/HP - NC-17)

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