Harry lets go of Malfoy’s throat. He pulls out slowly and watches Malfoy’s sloppy hole as the mess inside spills out, slowly, enticingly. He almost wants to put his mouth back on it but the clock chimes then; tinny and loud. The restraints dissolve and Malfoy pulls his hands to his chest, rubbing his wrists slowly. They’re red and irritated. Harry wants to rub them himself, to soothe the angry skin, but feels suddenly out of his depth.