Summary: Harry is tired of degredation. As a consequence, Draco acquires a new writing desk.
Word count: 545
Challenge: Answer to the 2005 hp500fic Letter Challenge at livejournal.com. Write a letter between two canon characters, rated R or under, in 500 words or less.
Pairings: Implied DM/HP, implied DM/PP, implied DM/?. Darkfic.
Canon: AU. Not DH-compliant.
Kinks: Blackmail.
Warnings: Implied dub-con and non-con. Evil! Draco.
Author’s Notes: Set during an AU 7th year. The story is told from Draco’s PoV. 

Disclaimer: All characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling.

 

Dearest Pottyhead,
I think you’ve lost your edge of late—your performance yesterday was abysmal, no effort at all. It’s worthless if I win sans lutte, mon ami marqué. Where’s the fun in that?
When we began this, our final year at The Penitentiary of Polluted Blood, I reminded you: The key to any goal is concentration. Passion won’t aid you if your focus is elsewhere. How long has it been since you last humiliated Gryffindor so badly? Keep your eyes on the ball, Potter. There is nothing so annoying as an effortless victory. I intend to make you suffer for it, lest it happen again.
At the commencement of this game of cat and mouse, you expressed in no uncertain terms your reservations concerning contracts with Slytherins. Your distrust of my House wounds me deeply. We do not break deals. It’s of the deal itself that one should beware. There is such a thing as ‘the fine print’ in your Muggle world, yes? Perhaps your parents could have schooled you against impulsive judgments in the heat of danger, had they lived to endure the consequences of theirs. Pity. I had such high hopes for you.

I almost forgot—Pansy sends her regards and wishes you would Scourgify after your late-night retreats. She hates sloppy seconds.

Perhaps if you had injected more bitterness into your endless source of curiosity, we might find ourselves in a stalemate. It might have been you who happened upon a recalcitrant pureblood, slaking his lusts behind a wooden screen, wanking off over his best friend’s Artemis-tic retreat into the bath. Then—horror of horrors!—it would be me struggling to mount a broom every morning. How are those extra cushioning charms working out for you, by the way?
Alas, Gryffindors are incapable of intellect without foresight, of action without reaction first. It’s been a pleasure pounding your arse into the duvet, but all good things must come to an end. You broke our contract by failing to enjoy yourself. Yes, go check it again. The letter will be waiting here when you’re done.Silly Potter. Did you honestly think I was interested in you? Excluding Quidditch, there is only one among your Golden Trio who is as clever as I am, who holds the power in a wand that exceeds mere innate abilities and endless studying, who rivals me and defeats me in every contest of skill until I must hate, break, or destroy her if I am to defeat your kind. Your arrogance astounds me. You made yourself out as the Snitch, and while you neglected to play seeker, I finally caught it.
Forgive the ink stains on the parchment—my writing desk was wriggling intermittently. I must have made the handcuffs too tight. We’re going to have so much fun, her and I! Well, perhaps just me. I’ll have fun.

I will hold to my part of the bargain, though. I won’t whisper one word in her ear about you.

All the best,

Malfoy
 
 

 

 

Fin

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