Disclaimer: Not mine; no money exchanged for this.

Warnings: The implied non-con could be triggery for some people.

A/N: The title is a line from a hymn for Lent (this is not a songfic; a fic based on a Lutheran hymn would be...weird). Lent is a time for reflection, a time to face darkness and fear before the hope of overcoming them. Keep that in mind.

Also, I DO NOTEVER write non-con as titillation, and I don't believe there is such a thing as "dub-con"; coercion is still violation. You won't see "Draco rapes Harry and then they fall in love, yay" (or the other way around) in my work. NEVER. I think that's gross, actually. So that's not how this story ends. I do ask, though, that you keep an open mind when reading it.

Harry extinguished the lights and pressed himself against the wall, waiting. He was locked in, with no chance to escape. There wasn't any other route of exit at the moment other than the front door, which was bolted from the outside. He simply had to hope he wouldn't be found this time; he breathed as quietly as he could. That was the trouble with his confinement—it gave the illusion of freedom, having the run of the house. It was all a lie.

The sound of the lock rattling startled him, and his breath hitched. His heart pounded; he swallowed against the panic rising in his chest. He heard the door open with a bang, and he fled, taking the opportunity to hide deeper in the house.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs, pausing at the landing. "I know you're in here," a voice spoke into the dark. "Come out and play, Kitten."

Harry ducked from room to room, but he could still hear the chilling voice calling for him. He needed to find someplace he might not be discovered. Slipping up the stairs, he peeked into each room until he found something. There was a wardrobe in one of the spare rooms, and despite his shaking legs, he managed to creep inside and hold the door nearly shut. Harry fought not to make a sound. He was panting a little, his palms sweating. If he didn't respond, he might be left alone.

"Here, kitty, kitty," the bodiless voice called softly. It sent shivers up Harry's spine.

The dark, enclosed space began to make Harry feel sick. He tried to hold on, to avoid detection. His trembling hand slipped from the wardrobe door, and it creaked, the sound echoing in the silence. He held his breath, hoping. It was no use. A moment later, the door to the room in which he was hiding swung open.

"There you are, Kitten." There was a sickly sweet tone in the words, something meant to sound soothing but that wasn't.

Roughly, the door to the wardrobe opened all the way, and Harry was face-to-face with Draco Malfoy. He looked up from where he was crouched, their eyes meeting. Harry whimpered a little, and Malfoy laughed softly.

"You didn't really think you could hide from me, did you?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "I always find you." His face contorted into a sneer. "Get up."

For a moment, he stared up at Malfoy, considering. He was standing aside a little to let Harry out. If he timed it just right, he might be able to get past him. He tensed for a moment then sprang out of the wardrobe. Malfoy made a grab for him, but Harry was too quick. He was past him and down the stairs in a flash.

Behind him, he heard the pounding of footsteps. Malfoy would be angry that he'd run. He had to find a new spot. He darted into one of the bedrooms, hoping he might at least take refuge under the bed. Just as he tucked himself up and made to scoot under the bed, the door to that room opened. He was in trouble.

"Oh, Kitten." Malfoy had the tone of a parent disappointed with a child's naughtiness. "I warned you about this. If you don't participate, you don't eat." He knelt down and seized Harry's wrist. "Now, come out of there." He dragged on Harry's arm.

Obediently, Harry climbed to his feet. The minute he did, Malfoy had him shoved up against the wall. He gasped and struggled to free himself. Malfoy was stronger, though, and he had his wand—unlike Harry. He leaned in and Harry could feel his breath on his cheek. He shuddered.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have found you so quickly, Kitten," he purred. "I don't think I've had enough time to play with my new toy."

"Let me go," Harry begged.

Malfoy laughed, but there was only cruelty, not humor, behind it. "I don't think so, Kitten." He leaned closer and licked a stripe from Harry's neck to his ear, making Harry squirm. "Not before I've had my fun." He pierced Harry with his gaze, his grey eyes hard and unforgiving.

"Please." Harry's stomach was in knots.

Instead of answering, Malfoy stepped back a little. Harry considered slipping around him again—his reflexes were still excellent—but Malfoy had his wand pointed at him. He braced himself. Malfoy twitched his wand , and whatever wordless spell he cast made Harry's body suddenly immobile from the neck down, plastered to the wall behind him. Another slight wand motion banished Harry's clothes. Harry sucked in his breath and tried to move so he could cover his nakedness, but all he could manage was a bit of wriggling. He felt his cheeks flame at his exposure.

"Oh, no you don't, Kitten." Malfoy aimed three or four well-placed stinging hexes, causing Harry to jerk. "That's for trying to escape."

If Harry couldn't get Malfoy to leave him be, then he would at least defiantly stand before him. He took a deep breath and jutted his chin out. "You don't scare me," he said, the quaver in his voice belying his words.

Malfoy laughed again. "No?" He reached out and trailed a finger down Harry's cheek then withdrew it and slapped Harry across the face, hard. The burn made Harry's eyes water. "Why, Kitten, are you crying?" He moved closer and leaned in so their noses almost touched. He spoke in a furious whisper. "You're weak, Potter. You're nothing but a pathetic, scared child."

Harry's lip quivered, but he wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction. He mustered all the courage he had and did the only thing he could think of: he spat on him. "You're wrong about me."

With the back of his hand, Malfoy wiped away the saliva. "I can think of better ways to exchange bodily fluids, Potter." He smashed his lips against Harry's in a kiss that was anything but delicate. His tongue darted out and he swiped it over Harry's lips. Harry refused to kiss him back or allow him entry, even though he knew his resistance was prolonging Malfoy's enjoyment. He thought about giving in just to put an end to it, but he didn't want Malfoy to call him 'weak' again.

Malfoy changed tactics. Using his wand, he traced a path down Harry's chest, pausing to circle each of his nipples. He periodically moved the wand just a little, giving the impression he might use it to hex Harry again. Harry's heart hammered in his chest, and he was certain Malfoy could hear every single beat. When the wand reached Harry's hip bone, it stopped. Malfoy raked his eyes over Harry's body and grinned wickedly when his gaze landed on Harry's groin.

"You like this, don't you, Kitten?" He reached up to nip painfully at Harry's earlobe, using his free hand to squeeze between Harry's legs.

Harry yelped and jerked his head away, which only increased the pain as Malfoy clamped down on his ear. His teeth scraped sharply against the skin as Harry tore it from his mouth. He tried to move his bits away from Malfoy too, but he was still immobile.

Malfoy murmured, "I hear you're immune to the Imperius curse. Fortunately, there are other ways to make you behave." He released the paralysing spell, catching Harry as he stumbled forwards when his knees unlocked. Harry had no chance to get free; the minute he was loose, Malfoy grabbed him and shoved him face first onto the bed. "Incarcerous!"

Immediately, Harry's arms were firmly bound to the headboard. He turned his head to the side to see what Malfoy was doing, trying to work out whether he was distracted enough that Harry might find a way to get free from the bed. No luck. Malfoy kept his eyes trained on Harry while he emptied his pockets and set everything carefully, almost obsessively, on the bedside table. The last thing he set down was his wand, close enough to reach if he needed it.

When he was through, he shed his clothes and climbed onto the bed, straddling Harry's legs. He leaned down, running his nails down Harry's back, causing Harry to tense as a chilling prickle travelled down his spine. Harry could feel Malfoy's erection pressing against his arse. In one swift motion, Malfoy had Harry's legs spread and he was kneeling between them, probing slightly with his cock.. He put his hand in Harry's hair and grasped a fistful, jerking Harry's head up and to the side.

Leaning in so Harry was forced to look him in the eye, he said, "You're mine, Potter. First, I'm going to mark you." He lowered his head and bit down forcefully on Harry's shoulder, causing him to cry out. "And now I'm going to fuck you."

"Stop," Harry whimpered.

Ignoring him, Malfoy shifted. He smacked Harry hard on the arse, making him writhe. "That's for whinging." He pushed at Harry's legs until he was completely exposed then positioned himself behind him.

With his head now free, Harry peered around. So quietly he wasn't sure Malfoy could hear him, he whispered, "Mischief managed."

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Draco sighed and shuddered, the hard, cruel look in his eyes softening and sliding away. He hung his head and took deep, cleansing breaths. After a minute or two, he grabbed his wand and released Harry's bonds then flopped onto the bed beside him. Harry rolled over onto his side so they were facing each other. He reached out and swept Draco's fringe off his sweat-damp forehead.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Did I hurt you?" There was a touch of hesitancy in Draco's voice.

"Yes," Harry replied honestly. "But only because I asked you to."

"This is the furthest we've ever gotten." Draco sounded a little awed.

"We did well." He offered a reassuring smile.

"You shouldn't have let me go that long. Why didn't you stop me sooner?"

"Because you needed to see that you could stop whenever I told you to, no matter what." Harry rubbed Draco's arm soothingly.

"But I could've—I would've—"

"I know. And next time, you will, because I'll let you." He kissed Draco's forehead, and Draco's eyelids fluttered shut. A single tear slid down his cheek, and Harry brushed it away tenderly.

Draco kept his eyes closed. "I don't know if I want to force myself inside you." He wouldn't, or couldn't, say the word.

"Good." Harry put his hand on Draco's cheek, and Draco opened his eyes. "If you'd wanted to hurt me that way, you'd have done it already. I promise you, it's not rape if I've asked you to do it. Otherwise, I would never give my consent."

"Why would you? Agree to it, I mean."

"You know why we do this."

"Remind me?" It was a question, not a demand.

Harry's eyes stung a little as he said, "You need to know you're not like him, that you're not a monster. I need to know that I'm in control of what scares me." Draco nodded, but he still seemed unconvinced, so Harry continued. "He violated our bodies—" He grasped Draco's hand and turned it palm up so he could see the Dark Mark. He pressed his lips to it. "—and our minds—" He took the hand he was holding and brought Draco's finger tips to his forehead to feel his scar. "—but this is our proof he didn't get our souls." He placed his hand over Draco's heart, feeling it beat under his palm.

He closed the gap between them and kissed Draco, long and sensually. They had both lost some of their desire while they talked, but arousal began to grow again. Harry dragged his mouth away long enough to say, "Make love with me?"

"Yes," Draco answered, his voice breaking a little.

They kissed again, exploring each other slowly, as though it were their first time. With hands and mouths they returned each other to aching need, then set about satisfying that need. When Draco finally—finally!—pushed inside, Harry thought he might die from the sheer satisfaction of being so filled. They tumbled and thrust and stroked, pulling desperate sounds from one another until their moans turned into crying out for each other as waves of pleasure crested and crashed, rocking them with the force of mutual release.

When the thunder of their climax rolled away, Draco slid out and they lay tangled in each other, breathing raggedly. Harry pressed his forehead against Draco's and drew his thumb across Draco's jaw. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

They cleaned themselves up and settled down, and Harry drew the blankets over them. He lay with his head on Draco's chest, listening to his heart beating. After a moment, he chuckled a little, remembering something.

"What?" Draco sounded slightly annoyed.

"It's just that you kept calling me 'Kitten'. That was different." Harry couldn't help the snort-laugh that bubbled out of him.

Draco flicked him. "Well, I don't know, do I? I'm new to all this."

Harry turned to look up at him. "No, actually, I quite liked it. It was the right balance of endearing and absolutely terrifying. I almost broke character to tell you, but that would've ruined what we had planned. I think we should keep it, though."

"I'll remember that," Draco said. He paused. "For next time." There were volumes of meaning in that sentence.

"You should," Harry said quietly, his words equally significant. They both knew they weren't really talking about the pet name anymore.

He yawned, and Draco echoed him, resulting in weak laughter. Draco tightened his arms around Harry, and together they dropped off to sleep, fear held at bay for one more night.