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

Payment, Sequel - part 4

Ron snarled and the box of merchandize that he had been levitating fell with a crash and a great deal of pain on his foot. This of course did nothing to make Ron feel any more charitable to one Draco Malfoy who swaggered into the joke shop the next moment as if he owned the bloody place.

‘What do you want?’ growled Ron, holding onto his foot and trying to master a spell that would deal with the mess at the same time. ‘If Harry sent you here, you can save your breath and leave before I hex you.’

Malfoy smirked.

‘I haven’t been doing anyone’s bidding for years, Weasley. If you ever cared to read anything beyond The Sport Section in the Daily Prophet you would have a much clearer idea of my position in the wizarding community these days. And I would hold back those threats too – hexing a Ministry official is a punishable offence as you very well know.’

Ron snarled and addressed the issue of the scattered goods instead, trying to pretend that there was no Malfoy to annoy him. It was really unwise to start a fight with the bastard and especially not when there were other customers around. He didn’t want to scare anyone with his outburst, whether magic or verbal, and gritted his teeth against the overpowering wish to fling something at Malfoy; something that would preferably give him a black-eye. There was a time when he could get away with only a detention if he was caught.

Malfoy meanwhile surveyed the shop window and then cast a lingering gaze around the shelves and stalls packed with joke shop items.

Ron’s enforced patience was wavering. He couldn’t look at Malfoy without thinking about Harry and thinking about Harry hurt. He reckoned he could live with the fact that Harry wasn’t interested in Ginny. He supposed he could even live with the fact that Harry preferred men. He winced as he recalled the glare, the tirade and a stack of books that Hermione gave him when he mentioned that it wasn’t right. Blimey, he didn’t even tell her that he thought that it was unnatural and disgusting. And the fact that it was Malfoy and that he was married… Ron just didn’t understand why Harry would be interested in someone like him…in something like this… When did his best friend turned into a shirt-lifter and why did he have to have it on with Draco bloody Malfoy of all people?

‘I’m glad you took my advice and rearranged the place.’ said Malfoy.

Ron looked at him, startled and confused. What?

‘The sight was ghastly.’ continued Malfoy with an exaggerated shudder. ‘Nothing worse than I expected from a Weasley, of course, as the lot of you is colour-blind, but I’m surprised your customers didn’t run screaming.’

Ron wanted badly to correct Malfoy’s assumption that his family were colour-blind, but that would involve violence that would scare off the kids milling abound, pointing excitedly at new products and squealing in delight when their pocket money allowed them to invest in this or that item. That’s why he grasped for a bit of information that sounded as if Malfoy had lost his marbles.

‘Your advice? What are you talking about Malfoy?’ he asked. ‘I would never take advice from you.’

‘And yet I see some impressive changes that you’ve made around the place and actually followed my tip and busted your best friend.’ continued Malfoy smugly.

He settled comfortably in an armchair and waited for the explosion.

‘You? It was you?’ asked Ron, shaking his head in denial. ‘No. It can’t be. He was nothing like you.’

Malfoy snorted.

‘Have you ever heard of magic, Weasley? Surely, the concept of changing your appearance with the use of a potion or a spell is not entirely foreign to you.’

Ron felt himself particularly slow today, but for the life of him he could not match that nice young man, who visited his shop almost every day for two weeks with Malfoy. There was nothing Malfoy-like about him. He was kind, sympathetic and – no – it just couldn’t be Malfoy. Because if it was…

‘Why?’ croaked Ron, horrified at what he had done. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘I was never one for charity, Weasley, and though my family keeps up the tradition of being very generous with our donations, it gets tedious and people get really annoying. When Potter came to me with another favour to ask, I didn’t want it to be another charitable case where I give and have nothing in return. So we made a bet. I told him that I would spare your wife from an Inquiry that would be the natural follow-up of my article, if he proved that your friendship was worth it and that I didn’t waste my time and effort on people who didn’t deserve it.’

‘I don’t understand.’ snapped Ron. ‘Can you speak more to the point?’

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

‘Don’t you see, Weasel? It was all a set-up. I disguised myself in order to convince you that Potter had an affair with ‘Draco Malfoy’, while Potter had to prove to me that despite appearances you’d choose his side of story over some anonymous person you barely knew. Should I say more?’

‘So, you’re not together?’ asked Ron hopefully.

Malfoy shook his head.

‘And Harry’s not – er- gay?’

Mafoy snorted.

‘Not as far as I know.’

‘And I failed.’

‘Spectacularly.’ said Malfoy, smiling like a contented cat. ‘And it’s not hard to presume that you haven’t spoken to him since that night.’

Ron cursed.

‘So what now? Are you going to print the article?’

‘I’m glad that you asked, Weasley, because here comes my favourite part. You have provided me with enough entertainment to want to see more of it.’

Ron didn’t like the sound of this and his temper was about to explode.

‘Listen, Malfoy, you can’t just play with people’s lives like that.’

‘I don’t see why not if they let me.’ said Malfoy airily. He looked at Ron with calculating, narrowed eyes. ‘You have to learn a lot from Potter, you know. He didn’t hesitate.’

‘Harry has the tendency for heroics that most people don’t.’ said Ron in a low, disparaging voice.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. He should have taken Potter along and show him how little his friend thought of his sacrifices. Maybe that would cure him of his ignominious infatuation.

‘So what is it going to be, Malfoy? What humiliating ritual do you have in store for me?’

‘I think we should take it to a more private surroundings, Weasley, or your customers might think that you’re veering into a drastically new direction.’

Ron grumbled, balled his fists at his sides and motioned with the jerk of his head for Malfoy to follow him to the back of the shop.

‘Well?’ demanded Ron, crossing his hands over his chest and glaring. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was apprehensive of what it was going to be.

With the look of maddening superiority, Malfoy took out what looked like a rectangular velvet box that he unshrunk to its normal size, opened with apparent gusto and placed on top of a small cluttered table for Ron to see. Ron peeked inside. His jaw dropped.

‘Well, don’t you just stare! Take it out.’ snapped Malfoy when Ron wouldn’t move, horror in his eyes.

‘What? What is this?’ he asked, not touching the contents of the box.

‘This is something that you will have to convince Potter to wear for my pleasure.’
Ron stared at Malfoy.

‘You’re mad! No, I take that back – you’re sick! Harry would never wear that! It’s – it’s – you do know that he is not a girl to wear a skirt?’

‘I am well aware of the fact Weasel and that is exactly what makes this task so interesting. After all, it was you who failed to prove that what you have with Potter is real friendship. Now, you will just have to make sure that Potter is more amenable to the idea of wearing this than you think he should be.’

‘He won’t.’ said Ron, shaking his head. ‘No one in their right mind would.’

‘Well then I suggest you take a seat and watch as your wife’s career becomes non-existent in the matter of weeks. Sooner if I can squeeze in a few extra meetings.’

*
Harry didn’t need to cast a spell to identify his visitor. He knew that Malfoy talked to Ron, though Malfoy wasn’t very forthcoming with the details, and Harry knew that Ron would come to apologize after having some sense knocked into his thick skull. But he wished, he wanted to believe, that after years of friendship Ron wouldn’t need anyone’s push to come to him.

He opened the door, scowled and let Ron in. Ron shuffled into the hall, his hands jammed so deep into his robe’s pockets that they looked like they were about to fall off. He didn’t look at Harry and just stood there, staring dumbly at the piece of floor in front of him. Harry crossed his hands over his chest and gave Ron a hard stare.

‘Is there anything else you need my help with? Anyone else to talk to for you?’ he asked venomously. He remembered Malfoy’s words: ‘When he comes to apologize, make him grovel.’ Well, he wasn’t going to make Ron grovel, he wasn’t getting off on seeing someone at his feet, humiliated, but he was going to give Ron hard time just the same. The stupid git deserved it.

The fact that Ron would turn his back on him so quickly made him overwhelmingly angry. After all these years Harry expected more than that from his best friend. He sacrificed his ass for him! He turned himself over to Malfoy for him and now he didn’t have a good enough reason to back up his decision! Ron hadn’t contact him either in person or by letter since the night in Dragon’s Fire and Harry wasn’t about to break the frosty silence first.

‘M sorry.’ mumbled Ron after a while, not looking at Harry.

Harry snorted. This wasn’t enough. He wasn’t even looking at him. So Harry stood as still and silent as a statue. Minutes went by; Ron became entranced by the carpet pattern so much so that his eyes roved around, following its every curve to its source and back again. Frustrated, Harry tapped his foot on the floor.

‘Is this all I am going to get from you, Ron? A mumbled apology? Will you not even look me in the eye? You know, I did more than that when I went to Malfoy. For you.’ He stressed the words. ‘Do you know how much of my pride I had to leave at his feet? On both occasions. Do you even have any idea how powerful he is now? How difficult it is to get an appointment with him? To make him listen to you? To get him to do something for you?’

How much it cost, he left unsaid. He didn’t want to give too much away, but he did want Ron to feel the enormity of it.

Ron still didn’t look up and Harry sighed, pushing his hands through his hair and gripping the nape of his neck. He shook his head.

‘Would you even come to me if he hadn’t told you about the deal?’

This made Ron look up.

‘He told you?’

‘He told me that he talked to you. Yes. He talks to me, unlike some. Is that a problem?’ asked Harry snidely and Ron flinched from his voice and his glare. ‘It’s funny how you send me to talk to him, but can’t bear to actually see us together. Talking.’

‘I’m fucking sorry, Harry! Ok?!’ burst out Ron at last. His face was as red as his hair and his hands, what Harry could see of them as they seemed to be elbow deep in his pockets, were shaking. ‘I’m sorry that I walked away without listening to you! I’m sorry that I didn’t come to talk to you! I’m sorry that I’m such an idiot! But I was never good with all the emotional stuff and I had to use all of that this last month with Hermione and all! I thought you could understand that!’

Oh no, thought Harry, you’re not taking me down the guilt trip. Not after I’ve become Malfoy’s whore for you.

‘I’m sorry, Ron, but at some point you will have to learn to expand your emotional reservoir to admit more than one emotion addressed at more than one person at the same time. I don’t ask all that much, do I? I know that you have your own family now to take care of and all, but I think I’m entitled to some consideration from you. I don’t want to see you on my doorstep only when you or Hermione or someone close to you is in trouble just because you think that I’m the only person who can help.’

Harry didn’t say how much it actually hurt.

Ron stared at Harry.

‘I didn’t – I’m sorry – I’m just – it’s all going so fast – there are always things to do – and – you know - ’

Harry shook his head.

‘No, I don’t. I’m always there for my friends.’ said Harry and smiled bitterly. ‘There was a time when I thought I could depend on you to do anything to help me…’ he mused, ‘but now – after what happened – I’m not so sure anymore.’

‘Things change, Harry.’ snapped Ron. ‘Priorities change. We’re not eleven any more.’

‘No, we’re not.’ replied Harry in the same musing voice. But it hurt too much. Did Ron have to be so blunt? So uncaring? Harry knew that he wasn’t Ron’s first priority, of course, but he hoped that Ron would still consider him as someone who could depend on him and come to him in need. It was a good thing that there was no need and that Harry relied on himself first, no matter what as it was stuffed into him while he was still a kid, but he always craved for someone he could rely on. Just in case. There was a time when he could rely on Ron, but it was clear now that he could no longer.

‘Listen, Harry, don’t make it all so complicated. You act like a bloody woman!’ Harry stared. He felt as though Ron’s fist connected with his gut. Ron muttered something that Harry didn’t catch next and continued in the same snappy voice. ‘I have a family now. A wife. Something you should think about too, by the way.’

Harry’s eyes turned cold and his mouth thinned.

‘I don’t need you to tell me what to do, Ron.’

‘Fine!’ huffed Ron.

‘Is there anything else?’ asked Harry, annoyed, his hands once again crossed protectively over his chest.

Ron scowled.

‘Yes.’ he gritted out.

Harry thought as much. Sheer malice in Malfoy’s voice told him that he didn’t just let Ron go with his blessing. He wondered what Ron had to ask him to do now. And if he would put more of an effort into this than into his apology.

Ron didn’t look at him again, but one of his hands finally made it out of the pocket, holding something that looked like a tiny black box.

‘Malfoy said that he would not print the article or anything if you – if you – er – put this on.’

Ron spelled the box into its normal size and shoved it into Harry’s hand.

‘I told him that you won’t put this on, but he said that if you don’t then Hermione’s career will go down in a matter of weeks.’

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course.

Harry opened the box and stared. He knew someone else who was going down after this. Keenly aware of Ron’s eyes on him, Harry’s hands shook slightly as he took out a short and what looked like a very tight black leather skirt with matching halter top, stockings and stiletto heels. Black, leathery and tight. Yes, that was Malfoy’s long-standing fantasy that he always talked about but never actually made Harry visualize before. Now Harry knew why – he waited for a special occasion. He was going to kick Malfoy hard. How was he supposed to pretend that the idea of putting on women’s clothes was foreign to him? Harry decided to play dumb. He put everything back into the box and stared at Ron in confusion.

‘I don’t understand. That’s – that’s for women! What exactly am I supposed to do with it? I don’t even know what goes where!’

Harry thought that he induced enough outrage into his voice.

‘Well, don’t look at me, mate. He’s sick. Twisted. That’s what he is.’ said Ron fervently, not looking Harry in the eye. Harry noticed that he rather preferred to cast furtive glances at the box.

‘So, does he want me to put it on in front of you or what?’

‘What? No!’ yelped Ron. ‘Blimey, Harry!’

He was oddly flustered and Harry wondered if he had been imagining how Harry would look wearing this stuff. Harry had a pretty shrewd idea where Malfoy wanted him to wear it, but there was no reason to make it easy on Ron.

‘But you just said that I have to put this on. Did he give you a camera or something to make a picture? I don’t know if I’ll be able to fit in though.’

‘No! You’re not to put it on in front of me! We’re best mates and all, but I’m not ready to see you in women’s wear, Harry.’ said Ron almost hysterically.

He shook his head.

‘Well, it’s not like I’m used to the sight myself.’ said Harry. Well, that was believable. ‘So are you going to tell me what I’m supposed to do with this?’ he asked frustrated.

‘Are you going to wear it then?’ asked Ron cautiously.

Harry rolled his eyes.

‘Well that’s what he wants, isn’t it? For me not to wear it. He thinks I won’t do it and he’ll be free to print that article.’ Harry shrugged. ‘I’m sure I could spend five minutes in this get-up if only to prove Malfoy wrong.’

Harry wondered if he should rub it in, but Ron looked so relieved that his heart wasn’t in it.

‘Thanks, mate.’ said Ron, shame-faced. ‘I owe you.’

Yes you do, thought Harry, more than you can ever know or repay. He didn’t say it. He couldn’t.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Was what he said instead. ‘We’ll prove him wrong and forget about it.’

Harry felt quite an accomplished liar by now. But he reckoned that if he was about to start living a double life it was a good thing.

‘Well, as long as he doesn’t make me wear it in front of the Minister or something.’ he added thoughtfully, wondering what Malfoy had in mind. ‘Did he tell you where he wants to see me in this?’

*
Harry didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. Malfoy’s owl was very specific and Harry knew that he was exactly where Malfoy wanted him to be, but the fact didn’t reassure him in the least. He was in Knockturn Alley – the place he generally avoided during the day, let alone at night. And he knew that the look he was sporting now was just the thing to get him into trouble with authorities. He blended well with other young men and women roaming the street, looking for prospective customers; their eyes greedy, their stance provocative, their actions dangerous when he accidentally stepped onto their territory.

He shied away from cloaked figures with money jiggling in their pockets and rolled his eyes as scuffles broke out over who gets whom. He didn’t want to stand out. He didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention. He tried to look composed and relaxed and as if he was on a prowl himself, but his heart was beating wildly and panic was swiftly rising in his chest. He wished Malfoy would hurry up and take him away from here. What if someone saw him? What if there was an Auror raid and he got arrested with this lot? How could he ever explain this? Even worse was the thought of what would happen if someone decided to ‘use his services’ and he wasn’t quick enough to get away?

He sighed with relief when Malfoy stepped up in front of him, though he was startled by his sudden appearance. But now that he was here, Harry didn’t quite know what to do. He couldn’t just launch himself at him, begging to take him away. He stared at Malfoy expectantly, waiting for Malfoy to say something at least. Malfoy’s eyes meanwhile roamed his body, taking in the sight, a pleased smile curving his lips. He obviously liked what he saw, because he started tracing the line of the skirt and then pushed his hands underneath it to feel the ridge of silk stockings. Harry leaned against the wall for support. By the feel of Malfoy’s meticulous groping, Harry wondered if he was checking if everything was in place.

When Malfoy finally paid attention to his face he mentally tried to hurry him to get on with it and take him away. Malfoy, however, was in no hurry. He trailed his hands up Harry’s thighs, to his waist, up his torso and then to his face. Harry squirmed uncomfortably against such insistent touching, wondering why Malfoy looked at him as if he saw him for the first time. But things started to clear up when Malfoy spoke after another appraising look.

‘I have not seen you here before. Are you new?’

Harry inwardly groaned. Oh no, he wanted to play. He actually wanted Harry to…

‘Um…yeah…’ replied Harry. ‘Is this going to be a problem?’ he asked not really knowing what else to say.

‘As long as you can prove that you’re worth my time – I don’t see why there should be any problems.’ said Malfoy, his index finger tracing Harry’s jaw.

Harry wanted to scream. It was another ‘it’s your job to please’ me nights and he had to do it here, on the street, of all places.

Harry pressed against Malfoy next, putting his arms around his waist and wrapping his leg around Malfoy’s, slowly rubbing up and down.

‘I can make it really good for you, sir.’ he breathed out. ‘Just tell me what you want and I will give it to you.’

He undulated against Malfoy a bit more and then let him go, pressing his hands flatly against Malfoy’s chest next.

‘What will it be, sir?’ asked Harry almost coyly, following Malfoy’s reaction and feeling pleased that he was getting hard and that he had minor breathing issues. He told himself that he could do it after this. He could.

He looked pointedly at Malfoy’s cock before sliding one of his hands down to squeeze it.

‘Should I warm you up first?’ he asked and without waiting for Malfoy’s permission, slid onto his knees and worked open Malfoy’s robes and trousers. This was familiar ground. This was easy. Here he knew what to do. He knew he was right when Malfoy grabbed his hair and shoved his prick down his throat as far as it would go. Harry sucked him relentlessly. When he was done, he tucked him in gently and rose shakily to his feet. His legs were trembling with the effort it took them to keep from buckling underneath him. He really-really hated high heels. He put his hands on Malfoy’s shoulders for support.

‘What do you say?’ he asked, ‘am I worthy of your time.’

‘Quite.’ replied Malfoy, his voice slightly unsteady just as his arm that slid inside his pocket. ‘As well as every Galleon I am going to spend on you.’

Harry abruptly stepped back from him and pressed into the wall.

‘I don’t need your fucking money, Malfoy.’ he hissed enraged. ‘I’m not a whore. I didn’t do it for money.’

Malfoy’s eyebrows rose.

‘No? Then what did you do it for? Pleasure?’

Harry wrapped his arms around himself.

‘I don’t know. Maybe I did it for you.’ he said savagely. ‘Isn’t it what you want? Me, wanting you? Well, you can have me. I think we’ve established that. But I don’t need your money.’

Malfoy stared at him. Harry shook his head.

‘I hate you. I hate what you turned me into. I don’t need this. But you don’t let me go. I need someone - ’ he gulped.‘ – someone who would love me and not use me.’ he finished very quietly, very much embarrassed.

‘I love you.’ said Malfoy and Harry rolled his eyes.

‘You love the idea of me at your feet, doing what you want me to do, Malfoy. That’s not exactly the same.’

‘Well, that’s the only way I can love, Potter!’ snapped Malfoy and taking Harry by the nape of his neck he crashed their lips together.

Harry didn’t expect Malfoy to kiss him. He had never kissed him before, had he? It was a rather scary experience, because he was not so much kissing as possessing him through his mouth.

They broke apart gasping for air and Harry leaned his head on Malfoy’s shoulder. He shivered when he felt Malfoy’s hands caressing his back.

‘I was wondering why you had to make Ron bring me the outfit.’ asked Harry curiously. ‘Couldn’t you just tell me what to do? It was kind of hard to pretend that I found the idea putting on a skirt shocking.’

‘Did he apologize?’ asked Malfoy in a hard voice.

Harry decided not to tell him how badly Ron apologized.

‘Sure.’

‘I wanted him to apologize to you. I wanted him to feel bad about doubting you. And I wanted him to owe you. Now he does. One day he’ll pay.’

Harry was pressed against Malfoy’s chest enough to hear his ribs crack.

‘I’m going to ask Ginny out.’ said Harry cautiously. ‘I need your promise that you won’t jeopardize my chances with her and that you won’t do anything to her to make it impossible for me to date her and – well – marry her if she still wants me.’

‘You can do whatever you want with She-Weasel as long as you remember who you belong to, Potter, because if you so much as forget I will brand every inch of your skin for everyone to see.’ said Malfoy quietly but menacingly.

He raised Harry’s chin and held it tight, staring intently into Harry’s eyes.

‘I will have you whenever and wherever I want and you’d better start coming up with excuses now, because I am not going to be kept waiting.’

He sealed his words with another fierce kiss and then, before Harry had time to draw breath or blink his shock away, Apparated them to Dragon’s Fire, the very room they had used before.

As dazed as he was, Harry knew that he had to be getting used to this room from now on.

The End