Harry's Pet

Part III continued


He turned to Snape now. The man had fallen silent when Draco had not appeared to be paying attention.

“Why did you suggest me to Harry?” he asked, “Why did you suggest that he might want to own me, that I would make a good pet”

Draco surprised himself when he spat out the last word like that.

Harry had never pretended with Draco. He had told him of the darkness inside him. He had wanted his total submission and, now that he had it, he was showering him with gifts. But Weasley and Granger had been around for much of the last few weeks and done nothing to stop what had happened to Draco, not that he had really wanted them too, but that wasn’t the point. He had been sacrificed for the good of everyone else, hadn’t he? Sometimes he had seen sadness in the eyes of Granger, discomfort in Weasley’s, but after all they had never liked him anyway not enough to try to stop things at least. But Snape? He had supposedly been on Draco’s side and he hadsuggested Draco in the first place as someone who might be used to appease the darkness in Harry Potter.

Snape had the grace to at least blush

“It was the best I could do to save you Draco,” he murmured softly. “There seemed to be no other possibilities, no other avenues to explore. Once you had been caught, once the Goyles gave you up. They wanted your life, The Ministry, to take your soul. They wanted a scapegoat to parade before the populace and I could not allow that. I am sorry if this is so bad for you… I had thought that Potter would at least be kind, and then when he brought me in for this,” he waved one long fingered hand around, “I thought that my decision had been the right one, I am sorry Draco.”

The tears were back in Draco’s eyes; he and Harry were not so different really were they? They had both been used by the so called ‘side of the light’. Harry had had his childhood stolen had lost his family and Draco? Why Draco was where he was now?

He closed his eyes; it was not the Professor’s fault, was it? Not really. At least he had tried to save him? They were scared of his Master, the wizarding world, scared of what Harry Potter had become. Draco had seen his power, the way he used wandless magic without a thought, the way that the room would vibrate with it sometimes. They were terrified of him and what he could do, of what he might become, and there was simply no one strong enough to defeat him if he did become dark.

Harry’s friends had brought Draco to Harry because they thought that he would stop him becoming engulfed by the darkness inside him, and Professor Snape had done what he had done in order to save Draco’s life. They had all done their best with the options open to them and he couldn’t really blame them for that.

“No its okay,” he said, “It might not have been, but it is now. He cares for me a lot I think, and I? I love him with all of my heart. I think I always have done, ever since I was a little boy. Even before I met him I loved him. And then when I did meet him finally, I didn’t even know he was the Saviour of the Wizarding World, he was just a scrawny kid in raggedy clothes and yet he was so full of life that he captured my heart, when I was just a kid too. You did all right Professor, I am truly okay.”

Snape looked at him sideways, “Are you sure Draco?” he asked Draco just nodded and then with an enormous effort to try to get Snape to stop looking so crestfallen he said, “So what are we going to brew then?”


At 4.45pm Draco left the lab. He thought that Harry had been trying to be somewhat light hearted when he had said to be back for five, but he had had enough for the day. He had spent most of it thinking. He had thought about what had happened to him all morning and then he had tried to remember some of his potions training in the afternoon and now he was tired. If he was honest he was ready for some hot mindless sex.

There was a bathroom just outside the door, an entrance that Draco had not noticed earlier. It had a powerful shower and gleaming white tiles and a laundry basket where he could chuck his dirty clothes. Harry had thought of everything, even down to the fluffy white towelling robe hanging on the back of the door. Stepping out of the wonderful hot water he pulled it on and went in search of Harry.

He was in the study and as Draco stepped into the room his eyes turned to him, betraying a myriad of emotions. Lust, fondness, uncertainty and something else, which Draco couldn’t quite define. He almost looked as if he could not believe his luck. Draco smirked.

“Hello Master,” he said and as he spoke he shrugged out of his robe and left it behind him on the floor in a puddle of snowy fabric. “I want to say thank you.” He got to his hands and knees and crawled towards Harry. He put everything that he could into that crawl, knowing that Harry loved to see him on his knees, loved to see his arse wiggle as he moved, and he loved to see his Master licking his lips as he watched Draco move toward him. He loved the fact that Harry now had a significant bulge in his trousers, that he was hard, that his cock was weeping and it was all down to him.

He was determined to suck Harry’s cock tonight. It would be a first for him. He had never been able to take anyone in his mouth before, though he had often had it done to him. He stopped crawling and ducked his head for a moment determined that the tears that once again threatened to fall did not escape. Because a thought had hit him, all at once, out of nowhere. Harry may have taken Draco time after time, but he had always seduced him hadn’t he? Never once in all the weeks that they had been together had Harry forced him to do anything.

Oh sure he had tied him up, he had even spanked him, but Draco was always more than ready for what he had done to him. But Draco had never liked performing oral sex and never once in all those weeks had Harry asked him to do so. Even though from the number of times he had sucked Draco’s dick, Draco assumed it was something that Harry would at least like to try. And he knew then with complete certainty that Harry would never force him to do something that he truly did not want to do, never truly harm him. Ever.

But now he had reached his lover, and the fact that he knelt at Harry’s feet totally naked whilst Harry stood looking down at him had him completely hard in seconds, the rough material of Harry’s trousers against his bare flesh, the fact that he felt entirely helpless and yet utterly safe, turned him on even more and Draco knew that if he didn’t get a move on he was going to come before he had even started on Harry, and, from the look in the other man’s eyes, he had a lot of plans for tonight. So Draco knelt up and took the zip of Harry’s trousers in his teeth and began to pull.

Much later Draco was bound, hands tied behind his back lying on a pile of soft cushions. They were an assortment of different fabrics soft velvet, smooth silk and suede and fur. His cock was bound too, but just at the base with a red silk ribbon and a huge leather vibrator that his Master had put inside him was slowly fucking him, it had been spelled to keep hitting his prostate and Draco felt that it was going to split him apart. His need was growing with each second that passed and he thought that if he wasn’t allowed to come soon he was liable to spontaneously combust.

Harry was lying beside him, equally naked but facing in the other direction and nibbling the flesh between Draco’s thighs whilst at the same time idly playing with Draco’s genitals, as if they were some sort of executive toy. Each time he stroked them, or pinched them between his thumb and forefinger Draco gasped or moaned.

Despite having never performed oral sex before Draco had managed it twice more this evening - the last being a few moments ago so it seemed that Harry had decided to repay the favour, with interest.

Harry was replete. But Draco was almost mad with desire. Ever since Harry had removed his pubic hair Draco had found that his genitals had become hyper aware whenever they were touched or stroked or fondled, and as this seemed to be one of Harry’s favourite occupations Draco spent an awful lot of time with his balls feeling like they were about to explode and his cock feeling like it was hard enough to break rocks.

“Please Master,” he was whispering, “please.”

Harry grinned, and engulfed Draco’s cock in the hot sweet wetness of his mouth.

Draco screamed, but Harry did not seem inclined to show mercy. Instead he licked and he sucked and he nibbled, and all the time the vibrator that was fucking Draco increased it’s speed and its accuracy until Draco could only whimper. He started to see little lights dancing in front of his eyes, everything seemed to be turning red. He could not think, he could not speak, all of him seemed to be awash with sensation. The soft cushions with their different textures cradled him, the hard leather cock inside him fucked him and Harry’s sweet wet mouth was laving his testicles as if they were delicious. He was beyond aroused, he was floating on a wave of ecstasy, but finally, at last, through the fugue of pleasure he heard his Master speak the four little words “Come for me Draco” and Draco did. He came so hard that there was a roaring in his ears, and a feeling that he had melted and was part of the very orgasm itself. He arched his body, threw back his head and screamed until his throat was raw. Then he collapsed back into the pillows that surrounded him as if all his bones had been removed, uncertain that he would ever be able to move again.

He lay there panting softly and Harry gently kissed his way up Draco’s body, pausing only to give his nipples a quick lick. Normally Draco’s nipples were so sensitive that Harry had on occasion made him come just by attending to them. But right now Draco was absolutely spent. He had nothing more in him; he wondered if he would lie here forever. He had become merely a puddle of goo on the squashy cushions. Harry had freed his hands, the vibrator slid out of his arse with a gentle plop and Draco was able to move, if only his synapses ever recovered enough to send the message that moving was now a possibility.

Harry had reached his neck and was still kissing him tenderly. “You enjoyed that didn’t you Pet?” he said with a smile in his voice.

“Guh!” was literally all that Draco could say in return

Harry chortled

“I think you broke me Master,” Draco muttered as Harry spent a little time nibbling at Draco’s collarbone before finally drawing level with him and pulling him into his arms.

Harry’s long dark eyelashes brushed Draco’s cheek and Draco shuddered, because he had been so overwhelmed with sensation that he felt everything that touched his skin with a kind of super awareness. He drew his arm up from behind him, because he so wanted to bury his fingers in Harry’s soft, soft hair. He thought that whilst he and Harry had been occupied someone had replaced the offending flesh and blood arm with something much more unwieldy made of lead, but somehow he managed. He wanted to kiss Harry, to look at him, to stroke his hair, and so he did.

“Thank you,” he whispered into Harry’s neck, “Thank you for saving me. Thank you for everything Harry, I love you,”

But Harry was not listening. His sooty lashes curled on his cheeks, his breathing was even and his arm was lying heavily on Draco’s waist. He was pinkly flushed, his lips slightly parted, and to Draco he had never looked more beautiful. Harry, exhausted, had fallen asleep

So Draco’s life settled down and he was more content than he could ever remember being. Monday to Friday Draco spent most of the day in his lab, snarking quite happily with Severus Snape. They had friends over for dinner often too, and despite an initial trepidation on Draco’s part, that Harry would insist he were naked when he met his friends, that was never the case. Granger and Weasley seemed hugely relieved about this as well and relaxed around him far more than ever before. They would perhaps never be true friends, but they grew to at least respect each other.

Pansy came by often and Blaise and Theodore. They never completely felt comfortable around Harry, but they respected power too and Harry had it, so it seemed that they could live with the fact that Draco was with him for good. Severus even came to dinner on occasion. He could understand the power that Harry wielded better than anyone and was therefore never less than polite.

Most evenings and weekends they spent together though, and Harry never tired of seducing Draco, taking him to the very edge of his limits, arousing him until he could barely remember his own name and bringing him to orgasm time after time. Harry was a sensualist; he had an imagination, a certain wickedness at the core of his being and the audaciousness to try out his ideas on his willing slave. Draco thought that Harry was the perfect combination of Gryffindor and Slytherin and he thanked every god he could think of that Harry had taken him into his life.

Harry bought a giant red sofa that he kept in the sitting room and over which he fucked Draco in every possible position and some that Draco was pretty sure were impossible. He had an enormous gilt frame hung in the sitting room too. It had a pedestal fitted inside it and restraints and sometimes Harry would fit Draco with a vibrator and secure him inside the frame and lie back on the sofa and watch him writhe and dance under the stimulation for hours on end.

Every morning they sat and ate together but most evenings, Harry fed him himself and he knelt at Harry’s feet or sat on the peg stool or was chained down whilst he was teased and tormented with whatever was on the menu. And sometimes, just sometimes he spent a morning or a day in the cage whilst Harry played with him and sent him mad with desire.

And then every so often they just curled up together on the big red sofa and watched the giant TV that Harry had purchased and ate popcorn and wrestled for the remote control, and made slow gentle love to each other.

Slowly too as the months went by they began to go out together. Harry played Quidditch, and had business interests and after a few months he decided that he wanted Draco to accompany him. Initially it was very difficult. Severus and Hermione had not been lying when they had told Draco about his unpopularity. People hissed at him and glared at him and once he was even spat at, never when Harry was close enough to see however.

Harry had a favourite restaurant Henri’s Café; it was owned and run by Ernie Macmillan who had discovered a certain aptitude for cooking. It was here that finally someone went too far in the up till then fairly subtle campaign to let Draco know what his fellow wizards thought of him and decided to trip up the treasured pet of their Saviour. And it was here that he finally got to see why the Wizarding World was frightened of his generous, sweet Harry.

Harry destroyed everything. Barely even lifting a hand he reduced furniture to dust, glass was smashed, curtains and tablecloths immolated and Harry stood in the centre of the destruction like a pagan god, his eyes flashed red. He spoke not a word as he completely obliterated the room and petrified everyone in it.

Once the devastation was complete Harry walked over to where Draco had fallen his shoes crunching on the broken glass and helped him gently to his feet, placing a kiss on his nose.

“Are you okay my love?” He had asked tenderly, and Draco completely stunned by what had taken place could only nod that yes he was

Then Harry turned to the other diners and said, “Draco is mine, and I look after what belongs to me. If he is harmed again whoever has touched him, harmed him, will answer to me.”

Then with another simple wave of his hand everything that had been broken was completely restored and those who had been petrified were released.

One woman screamed, a man fainted and several people hurriedly left the restaurant. But Ernie who had apparently once told Harry when they were still at Hogwarts that he believed in him and trusted him just came over to their table and offered them free Champagne.

Nobody ever bothered Draco again.

And tonight it was Valentine’s Day; Henri’s Café was decorated with hearts and flowers and candles. Draco could not believe that he and Harry had been together for ten months; he was amazingly, blissfully happy, happier than he had ever been in his entire life. He reached across the table to touch Harry’s hand, a smile playing on his lips. Tonight they were in a very secluded part of the restaurant. Everyone knew that this was a favourite place for Harry and Draco and so the place was always crammed full whenever the two ate here. Ernie, had named the restaurant after his favourite uncle, who happened to be French and had thus inspired Ernie’s embarkation into French Cuisine and subsequent career. Draco furthermore suspected that he had probably been the one to fund his nephew’s business, and he must be doing very well out of it as, possibly thanks to Harry and Draco’s patronage, Henri’s, was probably the most popular eating place in town. Therefore Ernie always did his very best to ensure that they had as much privacy as was possible whenever they came here to eat and always allocated them a private booth near the back of the large elegant room. No one ever disturbed them here

Maybe that is why they were so surprised when an irate blonde woman pushed passed the usual security and stormed up to their table.

“Harry Potter,” she said, “You are a thug and a bully and you will let go of my son right now!”

Draco who had Harry’s hand half way to his lips turned around in utter astonishment

“Mother?” was the only thing that he could manage to say.

Harry remained very calm. He was very polite to Narcissa, whilst she shouted at him and screamed at him and called him every name she could think of for enslaving her son.

She had married her South American lover and was now Narcissa Fernandez. She was therefore beyond the reach of the British wizarding authorities who had, she insisted, illegally enslaved her son

Draco had never been a true Death Eater - he had been influenced, coerced by his father dragged unwillingly into a war that was not his to fight. He had more than paid for the few small crimes that he had committed.

And astonishingly for Draco, for the first time since he had been with Harry his brave, strong lover, his Master seemed to shrink under the onslaught. He turned from the woman who was yelling at him about his cruelty and his selfishness and looked deep into Draco’s eyes.

When he spoke Draco thought that his own heart might shatter into a thousand pieces, so sad, so distressed did Harry sound.

“It’s true Draco,” he whispered, “Every word that she says. I know it, I have known it for the longest time; you do not deserve to be enslaved, you never did. What do you want to do Draco?” he asked in a voice that was laden with sorrow, “It is your decision. If you want to go, I will not stop you.”

At that moment, for Draco there was no one else in the world but him and Harry,

Vaguely in the background he could hear his mother going on about gilded cages and slavery by any other name still being illegal and indefensible and deep down, in his heart he knew that she was right. But what she was talking about was nothing like the truth of him and Harry. Oh perhaps it had been, in the beginning, but not now, not anymore.

A single tear made its way from the corner of Harry’s eye and started a journey down his beautiful cheek. Draco reached out a hand and touched it, caught it with his finger and brought it to his mouth.

Harry let out a deep sigh and closed his deep emerald eyes and more tears squeezed themselves between his thick lashes.

Narcissa, triumphant, knowing that she had won, that Harry would not fight her reached out and took Draco’s hand ready to lead him away.

“No!!” Draco shouted, jerking his hand from his Mother’s grasp

Harry’s eyes opened wide now, still glistening with tears

“No Mother,” Draco turned to her, saw the love, the concern in her grey eyes so like his own. He spoke more quietly now, more reasonably. He brought his chin up; so that she could see that he was determined, that he had made his choice. “Thank you for coming but I am not leaving Harry, not ever. He is my moon and my stars, he is the air that I breathe, I love him, I need him, I am his.”

Harry looked at him, this time there was something in his eyes that Draco had never seen there before. Harry was proud of him, Harry was grateful and Harry truly loved him. He opened his arms, the table that divided them was vanished and Draco was in Harry’s embrace in a moment

“But darling!” Narcissa said, and then she was gone. In fact the entire restaurant was emptied; they were completely and utterly alone

Before Draco even had chance to worry Harry whispered, “It’s okay my love, I just apparated them all outside, they have not been harmed.” Then he sobbed deep in his throat, tears were running freely down his cheeks. But he was smiling too, laughing through his tears “But you, you my sweet, sweet Pet are about to be ravished.” And right there on the pink table cloth which had landed in a heap when the table vanished, and in the empty and for that moment at least, completely impregnable Henri’s Café, he was.


It was three days later.

Draco had had to work very hard indeed to get Harry to agree. Funnily enough, whilst Harry had been the one to choose the collar, which had never come off since he had fixed it around his slave’s neck all those months ago, he did not want to mark Draco in any other way, at least not without his consent. He was such a mass of contradictions his funny, messy haired Master. He was easily as damaged, as Draco was, probably much more so, but he was strong and protective and dominant and loving. He was every thing that Draco had ever dreamed of, ever wanted in his life and Draco wanted everyone to know how he felt. He wanted the world to understand that he, Draco Malfoy belonged to Harry Potter.

So here he was, face down in the tattooist’s chair, arms pulled tight and fastened to the legs of the chair, a belt strapped around his waist; he could not move. He was naked to the waist and below that he had on a pair of simple cotton chinos. The tattoo artist had told them both that it would be sore, that this was the most painful place to have a tattoo just about, that’s why he was strapped down, because it would be almost impossible not to move and that of course would ruin the design. But Draco didn’t care. He wanted the words that he had chosen to be seen, not hidden away and he knew he could deal with the pain.

It did hurt! It was fucking painful. But Harry sat beside him all the while and stroked the arm nearest to him and told Draco how special he was, how precious, time after time. Till in the end, Draco zoned out. He was used to being tied down after all, and the feelings of safety, of tranquillity that being restrained engendered in him surfaced, took over. Until the pain was not so bad, and the buzz of the tattooist’s needle faded away and all at once all he could hear was Harry’s soft tones whispering words of support and the sound of his own breathing.

When it was done. Draco did not even realise it, until he was cradled in Harry’s arms and apparated home. Draco was dozy, as he always was after a session of punishment and bondage and although this had not strictly been about that, conditioned to it as his body was, that was how he reacted.

Harry took them both to the large sofa and lay down on it with Draco in his arms, resting face down on Harry’s chest. Harry vanished their clothing so that they lay skin to skin entwined. Both of them were hard and Draco just gave in to sensation as Harry undulated under him rubbing himself against Draco, and Draco couldn’t help himself in the end and he started pushing back. When he came, it was hard and just seconds after Harry. He felt like he had melted against his Master’s flesh.

“Hmmm, someone needed that, didn’t he?” Harry chortled as he cast a cleaning charm and cuddled Draco close. Placing a tender kiss on his head and rubbing gentle circles on his lower back. “I love you Draco,” he said. Draco stiffened and looked up; Harry had never said that to him before. He had called him my love, showed him care and tenderness but he had never said those three words, Draco suspected that Harry had never said them to anyone. His Master’s green eyes were smiling back down at him, and they were so full of love, so caring that Draco almost felt overwhelmed.

“No one has ever cared about me like you do, nobody has ever done anything like this for me before. Tomorrow, or the day after, when you are less sore, I am going to tie you up tight and spank you and fuck you so hard that your brains will melt, just to say thank you.” Draco smiled into Harry’s chest at his Master’s, his lover’s, words. He was sure he was hardening a bit already, despite having come explosively only moments before.

“And I love you too Harry” he whispered back. Harry said nothing to this, though he gently squeezed Draco instead and laid a sweet kiss on his head.

Harry’s fingers were ghosting over the tattoo and Draco knew, even without looking at him, that his smile was smug and self-satisfied. Not unlike his own in fact.

“What does it look like?” he asked Harry, “Does it look okay?”

“Well it’s still a bit red and swollen right now,” Harry told him, “But I think it will look beautiful in a couple of days.” Draco nodded happily. He sighed, feeling more content than he had ever felt in his life he thought And slowly, contentedly, he drifted off to sleep, with Harry still rubbing those gentle, soothing circles on his lower back, well away from the marks that decorated the base of his neck.

Draco could not see his tattoo, he would only ever see it properly if Harry took a photograph, but he didn’t care, he knew what it said. He had chosen it after all; he had insisted that that was what he wanted. It was a series of words, eight in total, arranged in two rows. Curling upwards in two semi circles a larger one at the top, a smaller one underneath, immediately below his collar.

The calligraphy was superb, and the delicate words seemed almost painted onto Draco’s creamy skin. It was simple in design, exquisite in its execution in red and green and gold lettering. It read; Property of Harry James Potter and underneath, entwined with hearts and snapdragons, the words Forever and Always

finis

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