Payment, Sequel

Summary: A few months after the first payment, Malfoy’s obsession with Harry’s humiliation is as strong as ever. He keeps him on a short leash and pushes him into things that make Harry’s skin crawl with shame and disgust. However, when Malfoy goes a step too far and tries to set Ron against him, Harry understands the real reason behind Malfoy’s actions and decides to use it to his advantage.

Warnings: cross-dressing, non-con, unrequited Harry/Ron, hints of the Epilogue

Thank you very much for your comments!


Payment, Sequel – part 3

‘Ron – what are you doing here?’ asked Harry, struggling with the shock of unwanted discovery and completely missing Malfoy’s amused snort or the fact that he had put back the privacy spell around them.

Ron crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Harry.

‘I think I’d rather know why you’ve been moony-eyeing Malfoy of all people instead.’ he said savagely.

‘I have not been moony-eyeing Malfoy!’ said Harry, deeply offended.

It was extremely hard to miss Malfoy’s snort this time and he felt colour rising in his face at the insinuation that he was staring at Malfoy like a lovesick puppy. He was afraid that he had developed some sort of misguided attraction to the bastard, after having spent so much of his time pleasuring him and getting to know the most intimate parts of his anatomy.

‘You said that you were going to talk to him!’ yelled Ron, accusingly. ‘Instead I find you holding hands with this scumbag!’

His voice reached dangerously high pitch and Harry winced.

‘Is this what you told him, Harry?’ asked Malfoy and Harry started, forgetting for a moment of his presence. ‘How unoriginal of you. Haven’t you used this very excuse before?’ he pursed his lips. ‘I think I will have to work on your imagination next.’

‘Shut your mouth, Malfoy!’ hissed Harry, turning back to Ron whose mouth was both trying to remain open and to snap shut at the same time.

‘Listen, Ron,’ said Harry exasperatedly. ‘This is not how it looks. I told you that I was going to talk to him and that is exactly what I am doing! How bloody difficult is it to understand?’

‘Really?’ asked Ron with a perfect imitation of the Malfoy sneer. ‘Then why do you need the key for one of the rooms upstairs?’ he said pointing at the glittering key lying peacefully on the table. ‘Do you need a bed to talk to him now?’

Key? Harry whirled around and stared. He vaguely wondered why Ron talked about the place like he was an expert. How did he know of this place anyway? How did he know that Harry would be here? Why did the charm around their booth give way and let him through?

‘Harry,’ said Malfoy, soothingly, slowly tracing the key. ‘It was bound to happen, you know. I know that we’ve had this argument every day that we’ve been lovers and I understand that you couldn’t just go and tell your friends about us, because you are ashamed to be – what was it that you said – ah- my piece of tail on the side, but now that the option is taken out of your hands why don’t you just admit it and let Weasley go. Let him throw tantrum to his wife.’

‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Malfoy?’ snarled Harry. ‘We are not lovers! Stop pretending that we are! You know perfectly well why I’m here!’

‘Oh, Harry.’ said Malfoy with a dramatic sigh, dangling the key into his face. ‘The next thing you’ll be saying is that we had never had sex before.’

Ron made a sort of choking noise and Harry turned back to him. Ron was pale and speechless.

‘Ron – it’s not true. I mean – Malfoy and I – we are not lovers.’ said Harry miserably, debating between concentrating his efforts on convincing Ron and strangling Malfoy.

Ron didn’t answer but shrugged and looked away as if the sight of Harry made him sick.

‘I reckon it is or you would have got back with Ginny by now.’ he said after a very painful pause. ‘She’s still waiting, you know. Guess I better tell her not to.’

He spoke in a hollow voice before turning on his heels and walking away, not looking at Harry.

‘Ron- no!’ said Harry, going after him but crashing into an invisible wall next.

He spun around and glared at Malfoy. He was shaking. He could feel rage and bitterness pouring out of him like acid fumes, surrounding him and choking him. It was quite possibly the last time he talked to Ron. He couldn’t believe that Malfoy would – set him up like that. It had to be a set-up. Of course. There was no other explanation for it. Ron had no trouble breaking the spell, yet he was trapped inside. Meanwhile, Malfoy was way too smug even by his usual standards and not at all surprised to see Ron, which meant that it was all a carefully planned scheme. Barely restraining his animalistic urge to simply murder Malfoy there and now, Harry sat down and stared at him instead.
‘Don’t go all mopey on me, Potter.’ warned Malfoy.

‘How did Ron know where to find me?’ asked Harry, his voice trembling with an effort not to scream. ‘What have you done?’

Malfoy crossed his fingers on the table and looked at Harry with a faint smile.

‘It wasn’t all that difficult. All it took was a few trips to his joke shop all set with a cauldronful of praise, an avid interest in their new products and finally a concerned face of a well-wishing friend who heard by chance – probably just rumours – someone’s idea of a joke – about Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy and their supposed affair. He didn’t believe it – or so he said – but obviously he didn’t trust you enough not to come here and check the words of a perfect stranger. I put a Tracking charm on him so I knew when to take the spell off.’

‘Polyjuice Potion?’ asked Harry.

‘Of course. I wouldn’t entrust such a delicate matter to anyone else.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Don’t play stupid, Malfoy.’ snapped Harry. ‘Why did you have to tell him that we are lovers when we are anything but? Isn’t it enough that I’m your – ‘

‘Yes?’ asked Malfoy curiously.

Harry sneered.

‘Whatever! Did you have to ruin my friendship with Ron too?’

‘You call it friendship? He didn’t even listen to you.’ pointed out Malfoy.

‘Because you told him that we are lovers! Of course, he wouldn’t listen to me with all the evidence you’ve produced! You know that he hates you and your family! He would consider it as betrayal!’

‘So? Just because you’re friends and his sister pines for you he has the right to choose who you should be with?’

‘This is not the point!’ said Harry, gritting his teeth.

‘I think this is precisely the point, Harry. You turn yourself to me to do as I please to keep his pathetic hide out of Azkaban and his wife’s name out of papers and he doesn’t even give you chance to explain yourself. He just walks on you, taking my word for it instead. Do you really need a friend like this?’

‘He’ll come around.’ said Harry, glaring at Malfoy.

‘Is that right? Are you ready to bet your freedom on it? I think not. Do you think he’ll forgive you for spurning his little sister and for consorting with none other than the nefarious Draco Malfoy?’

Harry put his head in his hands and groaned. It would be tough to convince Ron that it was Malfoy’s practical joke without Malfoy’s help and if Ron would ask him if they had had sex, Harry wouldn’t be able to lie convincingly. He just knew it. His head hurt. He couldn’t lose Ron’s friendship and though he told Malfoy that he’d come around, deep down Harry wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t just the fact that it was Malfoy or that he was in fact married. Harry could almost see it from Ron’s point of view. He would think that all this time he and Malfoy had had fun at his and Hermione’s expense and that when he promised to talk to Malfoy… Harry shuddered… Ron was going to hate him… Especially for trying to hurt Hermione when she was in such a vulnerable frame of body and mind.

‘So all this business with the article was just a ruse to lure Ron here, is that it?’ asked Harry when he could no longer stand examining the inside of his head. ‘You had not intentions of printing it. Of course you knew that if you sent it to Ron, he would go straight to me and I would go to you. And while playing hard to get you have been busy organizing this little meet-up the aim of which was to successfully set him against me. You knew he would not react well to seeing us together in a place known for its non-verbal practices.’

‘I didn’t say that I won’t print the article, Potter. In fact, I fully intend to print it now.’ said Malfoy.

‘What? Why?’ asked Harry, horrified. ‘What more do you want from me? I know that there is nothing I can offer you that you haven’t already taken. But wasn’t today enough? I’d think you would appreciate it for the fun factor alone.’

‘Don’t you see, Harry?’

‘All I see, Malfoy, is you ruining my life! And don’t call me Harry!’

‘I do it for you.’ said Malfoy simply.

‘What?’

Harry laughed, though the look in Malfoy’s eyes was not a laughing matter. It was blazing and possessive and something else that Harry didn’t understand.

‘They hurt you. Now I am going to hurt them.’ replied Malfoy in a low fierce voice.

Harry blinked. Something very strange was going on here. Was Malfoy implying…? No. Harry shook his head.

‘What are you saying, Malfoy?’ he asked.

‘Potter, don’t try to be thicker than you actually are. Why do you think I chose this particular method of payment? Why do you think I cast a spell on Weasley that compelled him to attack me in plain view of about a dozen high ranking Ministry officials to begin with? Why do you think I went to such lengths to ensure your presence in my bed?’

Harry stared at Malfoy in disbelief.

‘I dunno.’ he said after deciding that it made no sense. ‘Why couldn’t you go about it like a normal person? If it’s me you want why did you have to involve Ron and Hermione into this? Why couldn’t you just go straight after me? Cast a spell on me? Charge me with something? Threaten to throw me into Azkaban?’

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

‘Because you wouldn’t do anything like that to get yourself out. You would be a right martyr about it. You would not give me your body in return for your freedom. You’d rather rot in Azkaban. So I played the Weasley card and it gave me you – your body to use – I can live with that. You’ll get used to it eventually. Just know that I will go even further to keep you were you are now.’

Harry ignored the threat. It was not important at the moment and he realized that he could actually use it to his advantage.

‘I’m trying to understand you here, Malfoy. You want me.’

‘Well, don’t let it get to your head, Potter. At least my taste in men is way better than yours. I mean Weasel?’

‘Shut your mouth.’ snapped Harry. ‘You’re married.’

‘And you think that I would have risen to my present position within the Ministry in such a short time after the Dark Lord debacle if I hadn’t aligned myself with another pure-blood family? I worked hard to get where I am now, but there was one thing more that I wanted and that I could get only by force. Don’t look so incredulous. If you hadn’t lacked proper wizarding pride, you would understand that marriage – into the right family – is the key ingredient even if your – heart – lies elsewhere. Though if you are so enamoured by their blood-traitor lot why don’t you get hitched with the Weasel chit? Same hair. Same freckles. Same temper.’

‘And why don’t you ditch your wife and marry me instead?’ asked Harry spitefully. ‘I reckon I could carry the Malfoy name as well as any dress you had put me through.’

‘Just because I have developed an obsession with you, Potter, doesn’t mean that I will forget where my loyalties lie.’

‘Where is this place, if you don’t mind me asking? Surely not in the same bed as your wife.’

‘You are so eager to go to bed with me that you can’t even keep it out of a conversation.’

‘It’s hard to say, Malfoy, as I have never shared a bed with you.’ said Harry.

He stared defiantly at Malfoy. He felt strangely elated as though the knowledge that Malfoy had some perverted feelings for him gave him power to use against him.

‘Well, why don’t we change that?’ said Malfoy, taking the key and getting to his feet.

Harry rolled his eyes, drew the hood back and followed Malfoy up the stairs. He was still on the hook and Malfoy still hadn’t promised him not to print the article. Harry decided to hold on to it. He had a feeling that if he won this small victory tonight, he would have better prospects of making Malfoy back down in future. For now he would follow Malfoy’s wishes, because he was sure that they would grant him his wishes in the end.

It was a decidedly new sensation to be in bed, getting fucked by Malfoy. There was no ‘It’s your job to pleasure me’ shit this time. Malfoy didn’t talk and didn’t look at Harry and Harry thought that their heart-to-heart chat had finally caught up with him and he was struck dumb by his confession. But whatever feelings Mafloy might have had for him, they didn’t apply to sex and it was as painful and humiliating as ever, making Harry feel every bit like a whore. A cheap motel whore. The room was shabby and well-used. The bed creaked and fell apart. There was no window so Harry couldn’t get lost in the contemplation of the darkness of the sky outside or, if he was lucky, in the number of stars to count. Malfoy pushed him on the bed, tore off his trousers, pushed his legs up, cast a quick spell and drove into him so fast and hard that Harry crashed into the metal bars of the bed with a scream.

Malfoy’s eyes were squeezed shut as if he was concentrating hard on the task; his movements steady and aggressive. His hands gripped Harry’s hips with raw force and Harry’s legs, bent over his shoulders, started to cramp. He was grateful that Malfoy didn’t look at him, because he was sure to get an eyeful. Harry wondered if they could go back to him simply straddling Malfoy and riding him. At least then Malfoy couldn’t see him so much exposed. He felt sweat gluing his shirt to his skin, but he shivered violently when Malfoy placed his hands on his abdomen and lowered his forehead to meet his, bending Harry in two.

‘There is a matter of an heir, Potter.’ he said in a voice so low Harry was sure his heart beating was louder. ‘This is one thing that I cannot make you carry. No matter how much I threaten to ruin your friends’ lives.’

On that regretful note he came and Harry, after realizing what Malfoy was talking about, started laughing hysterically.

‘How funny that with all the magic at your disposal, there are still some things that even pure-bloods cannot afford.’ he said, gasping for air.

When Malfoy got off him, Harry turned onto his stomach with a groan. He hurt all over and he was sure that his whole back was bloodied. It felt raw. Harry pressed his cheek to the pillow, wondering if he was going to make it to the shower. It was better to lie still for now, not to move. Not to breathe. But he was sticky and dirty and there was blood too. He had to get up. He would crawl to the bathroom if he had to. He had almost raised himself up on his elbows and then screamed with pain when Malfoy pressed him down on the bed.

‘Shh, don’t scream down the place.’ he said softly.

Harry gasped for breath. He couldn’t talk. He wanted to tell Malfoy to take his hands off him, to go fuck himself, but the pain was excruciating. Through the haze Harry felt rather than heard Malfoy cast a series of spells. The tip of his wand followed the line of Harry’s spine before making its way between his ass, spreading cool, soothing sensation; so soothing in fact that Harry soon drifted off to sleep.

*
When Harry woke up, warm and pain-free, with Malfoy’s hand lying possessively across his back, idly wondering if he was upgraded from whore to lover, he knew that he had to decide on what to do next.

Malfoy was in no hurry to let him go and he would keep holding the threat of ruining Ron’s and Hermione’s and probably other Weasleys’ lives over his head as long as he wanted him around. Harry thought that he could always let them fend for themselves, but then he would blame himself for causing all the trouble and not preventing it. After all, it was his and not his friends’ fault that Malfoy had a thing for him.

But he could take a leaf out of Malfoy’s book and have semblance of normal life by marrying Ginny. What it was that Malfoy said: ‘Same hair. Same freckles. Same temper.’ Ginny was also pretty, brave, determined and tough; she loved Quidditch and understood Harry well enough for someone who wasn’t Ron and Hermione and they had a lot of shared experience and were happy as a couple once, before Harry’s feelings screwed him over. And she still fancied him. Well, at least they would have more in common than Malfoy and his wife. Harry snorted at the picture of them sending their kids off to Hogwarts some time in the future. Maybe their sons would be in the same year too.

He turned over and looked at Malfoy. Malfoy didn’t wake up but tightened his arm around Harry so that Harry’s nose was now pressed against the crook of his neck. His other hand, even in sleep, slithered down to cup Harry’s ass as if following a well-trodden or, in this case, well-touched path. Harry shifted against him, trying to make himself more comfortable. He decided that he had to get Malfoy to talk to him about pure-bloods and the danger they faced from Muggles and Muggle-borns as it seemed to be the fastest way of igniting his attraction.

As he lay, clutched in Malfoy’s arms like a long-desired Quidditch Cup that he had never won, Harry knew that it was not how he pictured his life, but he also knew that with a bit of shifting, he would make it so.