Miscalculations

Disclaimer: Who does Harry Potter belong to? Who??? Steve Vander Ark! Oops... mistake. I meant JKR. Sorry, Joanne.

A/N: Thank you for reviewing! Lex has been ill, but the late update is entirely my fault, since I have been either busy or lazy. I will keep updating though, there are some chapters left (though not translated yet). I'm also editing the original last chapter/epilogue, since I'm dissatisfied with it and it's taking me ages... But enough of the rambling and on with the story...

Janus



Miscalculations

Chapter
5

By JanusEris



Translated by Lex



The
downfall of a weasel


Draco’s
POV

Draco
woke
up in a luxurious bed, buried in silk and for one precious moment he
thought he
was back home. Then he opened his eyes and the memories flooded back.
He rubbed
his hand over his chest where the Potter-crest was and for the first
time since
he’d become a slave he was unrestrainedly furious. In the
middle of this bed,
while sunrays fell on him through the big window at the side of the
room, he
couldn’t feel fear or helplessness. It was as if he was born
anew. As if this
room and the feeling of expensive silk would turn him back into the
person he
once had been. But Draco wasn’t this person any more, he was
a slave. The crest
on his chest and the scars that marred his body were clear evidence for
that.
And still … He was also a Malfoy. The sole heir of a long
line of proud and
powerful and pureblooded wizards. All this … rooms like this
one … they were
his birthright. Malfoys were to be served … they
didn’t serve. Yet… his father
had done it. Draco sat up, his eyes squeezed to tight slits. That, he realized,
had
been the mistake. His father should never have served this half-blood,
whatever
he called himself. It had been his father who’d sullied the Malfoy name. It was
the fault of his father that he now wore this mark on his chest.

He
wouldn’t
make the same mistake. Sure, Harry had saved him. But he also had
conditioned
him, had made him to his willing little slave. And then, when Draco had
given
up all his pride and dignity, Harry had rejected him. How dare he
rejecting
him? Draco had even thought that he loved him. He’d been
prepared to do the
most disgusting and humiliating things for him. Was Harry grateful for
it? No.
He’d turned away from him. As if Draco were some common toy that
had lost its
usefulness.

Draco
clenched his fists. “I hate you,“ he whispered into
the silence of the morning.
“I hate you, Harry Potter. I hate you from the bottom of my
heart.”

***

There
was a
knock at the door and for a moment Draco was temped to send away
whoever it
was. Then he pulled himself together and sat up straight.
“Yes?”

The
door
opened and Severus looked into the room. He wore a black, high-necked
robe like
the ones Draco was familiar with from his time at Hogwarts. When Draco
looked
closer he could see the platinum of Severus’ necklace
glittering beneath the
collar. His hair was tied back into a ponytail. For a moment Draco just
stared
at him.

“Our
…”
Severus interrupted himself. “Potter asks
us to join him for breakfast.”

“Does
he
now?” Draco murmured. He didn’t know what angered
him more – Severus’ slip of
tongue or that Potter still ordered them around. On the other hand,
they still
were his slaves, technically. Then there was this
strange thing that had
happened with Severus; Draco still didn’t know what it meant.
“Fine, I’m
coming.” he said finally. “I just need a moment to
dress.”

Severus
nodded. “The dining hall is on the left side of the entrance
hall. Just go down
the hallway to the end.”

“All
right,
thank you.” Draco replied.

Severus
considered him for a moment, his expression unreadable, then he left.

Draco
sighed, got up and ambled over to what he assumed to be the bathroom.
Standing
in the doorway he remained there for a few seconds to drink in the
sight. It
was a roman bath, complete with a pool and steps that led into it. In
that
instant Draco decided that didn’t give a shit about
breakfast. For the next
hour he would relax and simply enjoy. If they waited for him
– well, too bad.
It was their fault. He turned the water tap on and let the deliciously
smelling
foam flow into the pool. With
delight
he sank into the warm water and leaned back. It was paradise. He
couldn’t get
his head around the fact that Har… Potter could have used
all this the whole
time but just contented himself with the Muggle house. Draco almost
fell asleep
again, relaxed as he was, but eventually his skin started to prune up,
something he hated. So he decided to face the music and left his
Elysium.

He
dried
himself and took his time to shave and brush his hair. It was now at
shoulder
length. For a moment he considered to tie it back like Severus had done
but
decided against it. Draco liked the way it reached down to his back. He
had
inherited the straight hair of his father that never fell in disarray.
If there
was something Draco really admired about his father it was his
appearance. His
father had been able to cause sudden silence in a whole room just with
his
entrance.

Draco
chuckled softly at his thoughts and went over to the closet to find
something
to wear. There were robes in front of him. He closed his eyes joyously
for a
moment and let his fingers slide over the heavy silky fabrics. Then he
went
through the whole closet until he found his optimal outfit. He chose a
pair of
knee high boots and a light blue robe that ended shortly over his
ankles. The
latter was high-necked, made from several layers of silk and even
though it
emphasized his stature it didn’t reveal anything.
He’d thought that he had
gotten used to his slave clothes but now he realized that he had just
forgotten
how it felt to be comfortable in ones clothes. He smiled at his picture
in the
mirror.

He
felt …
powerful and human. It seemed to him as if it were eternities since
he’d last
felt like a real human being and not like a thing.

Draco
took
a deep breath. “I guess I’m ready for
breakfast.” he told himself. Then he
laughed. It wasn’t dignified but there wasn’t any
other way to express what he
felt.

***

When
Draco
entered the dining room he saw Potter and Severus sitting at one end of
a long
table. The Daily Prophet lay in front of Potter and they were talking
animatedly. They looked up at his arrival.

Draco
could
virtually feel Potter’s eyes slide over his body. He stared
back at the
green-eyed man. Suddenly he hated this look.

“Like
what
you see?” he asked slowly, almost lewdly. Though he
couldn’t keep the anger out
of his voice.

Potter
smiled wryly. “You know how much I like it.”

“Fine.
Keep
staring.” Draco spat balefully. “Because
it’s the closest you will get.”

“Hear,
hear.” Potter mocked. “A few hours of freedom and
my little boy is getting
cheeky again.”

“Potter!”
Severus hissed.

Draco
clenched his fist but couldn’t prevent his insides from
cramping. “Ah yes, I
remember how good you are at keeping promises.”

Potter’s
look became darker and Draco averted his gaze.

“Sit
down.
You have to be hungry.”

“In
fact, I
feel like throwing up.” Draco hissed. His stomach, though,
contradicted him by
growling loudly when he took in the smell of breakfast.

Potter
just
looked at him without saying anything, so Draco sat down reluctantly
and
started eating. It was his first real meal since he was arrested and he
would
have enjoyed it if not for Potter. When he was finished Potter leaned
back.

“There’s
a
lot we have to talk about,“ he said. “Where should
we start, Severus?”

“Why
don’t
we start with me?” Dracos godfather said softly.

Potter
sighed and braced his head on his hands. “Well.
You’ve probably wondered what
happened to him.”

“Yes.”
Draco admitted.

Potter’s
gaze went empty. “When the house woke up it discerned you
as strangers. It
took me a while to get into rapport with the protection spells to
integrate you
two. I didn’t expect it to take that long. I never wanted you
to feel pain.
When I was in the middle of working through the protection spells
Severus
called up an old ritual. When I was finished it was too late.”

“What
does
that mean?” Draco asked. He remembered vaguely how Severus
knelt beside him and
chanted something, but the memory was blurred due to his own pain.

“This
is an
old house and there are old magical bindings that are irreversible.
Severus now
is my slave in a much more ultimate sense than he was before. He is my
property
in the sense of every existing law. Like this table or the contents of
my
Gringotts-vault … or like an Aethonan would be. The Ministry
couldn’t change
that if it wanted.”

“Does
that
mean he will be in slavery forever?” Draco asked horrified.

“Yes,
it
does.” Potter answered. “Not only he himself, but
his children, too, should he
ever have some. If he had an heir already it would be different. But
since he
is the only heir of his family he tied his whole lineage to me. Every
possession of the Snapes, that were magically sealed …
vaults, buildings,
estates … fell to me. The Snape family ceased to exist in
the magic documents.”

“And
you
just accepted that?” Draco yelled, frantic. He
couldn’t believe what he’d
heard. “How could you?”

“If
I
hadn’t he would have died.” Potter replied calmly.
“It is an old ritual. In the
past it was used by war opponents as a sign of capitulation. Once
started there
are only two options … the one the oath was sworn to accepts
or the one
swearing the oath dies.”

Draco
riveted his gaze towards Severus who’d listened the whole
time, unmoved. “I
don’t understand … why?”

“Actually,
there is an upside.” Potter answered instead. “Now
the Ministry doesn’t have
any influence about him since he belongs to me literally. Besides, the
binding
magic freed him from all the magic seals that bound him. The bond
demands that
he serves me … but therefore his ability to perform magic
has been restored.
I’m sure the branding mark on his chest is gone,
too.”

Severus
just nodded.

“Still.”
Draco persisted. “He could have been pardoned one day. Now
he’s damned to live
in this … half existence.”

“I
never
would have gotten amnesty.” Severus said calmly.
“Not after what I did
yesterday.”

“But
that
was a trick!” Draco disagreed. “It was,
wasn’t it?” It would be complete lunacy
if not.

“It
was
planned.” Severus acceded. “But the poison was
real. Of course I knew about
Potter’s ring, but who would believe me? All the evidence
points against me. If
we told the court the truth they’d take it as a clever made
up excuse.”

“Not
if the
right people are sitting in the Wizengamot.” Draco objected.
“Not, if they’re
really interested in the truth.”

Severus
shook his head. “In your whole life, Draco, were there ever
the right people in
the Wizengamot? We might be able to replace Weasley but we cannot
change the
whole Wizarding World.”

Draco
hit
the table, frustrated. “I can’t believe you just
resigned yourself to it. What
about your children?”

“I
never
planned on having children. I always despised the brats and my latest
experiences certainly didn’t change that.”

“It
is
Severus’ decision.” Potter said. “You
should try to accept it.”

“Of
course,
you’d support it.” Draco hissed. “You
rake in the profit, after all.”

Potter
angrily clenched his fist but kept silent.

“Enough,
Draco.” Severus said instead. “We have to discuss
much more important things.
If we want to depose Weasley we better start with a plan.”

Draco
giggled involuntarily. He was suddenly mad at everything and everyone.
He
yearned to hit someone, preferably Potter, but there was still that
small voice
in the back of his head, telling him that was a bad idea.
“You two want to
overthrow the wacky Minister?” he asked sarcastically.
“Oh yes, I can see that.
Didn’t you tell me, Potter, that there was nothing you can
do?”

“I
changed
my mind.” Potter replied, forcing himself to stay calm.
“Severus said some
things that convinced me …”

Draco
laughed, not caring that he sounded hysteric. “You changed
your mind? Really?
Funny, really funny.” The whole situation suddenly seemed
absurd and surreal.
Potter changed his mind. Of course, why not? Almost a whole year
Draco’d been his
toy, to the amusement of the surveillance officials, because the
Ministry was
watching them and there was nothing they could do about it. But now
Potter’d
changed his mind and all of this wasn’t important any more.

“Calm
down,
Draco!” Severus said, rising.

Draco
suddenly felt as if you couldn’t breath. He struggled for air
but his lungs
didn’t work.

“Calm
down!” Severus repeated. He stroked his hand over Dracos back
and murmured a
spell – where did he get a wand? – and suddenly
Draco could breathe again.

Draco
took
several deep breaths while Severus kept stroking his back. He hated
him. He
hated him for treating him like a child and telling him to calm down,
when all
he wanted to do was scream.

“That
had
to happen sooner or later.” Severus said towards Potter.

Draco
just
hated him more, for talking about him as if he wasn’t there,
as if he wasn’t
important.

Potter
just
nodded and handed Severus a vial. Draco didn’t want to but
Severus pulled his
head back and made him swallow the content. It tasted awful. Draco
recognized a
calming potion. He didn’t want to be calm; he wanted to
scream at them. They
deserved to know how much he hated them, how much he hated Potter
… that was
the last thought before everything became black.

***

Draco
woke
up in his bed. After a moment he opened his eyes and saw Severus
sitting beside
the bed.

“You
feeling better?” he asked when Draco looked at him.

“You
made
me drink a fucking calming draught.” Draco said angrily.

“You
were
hysterical,” his godfather replied calmly.

“And?”
he
snapped. “Don’t I have the fucking right to be
hysterical? For months he told
me how SORRY he was but that he didn’t have a CHOICE because
he couldn’t do
anything against the Ministry. Now all of a sudden everything has
changed?
Don’t you think that strange?”

Severus
sighed. “I understand why you’re angry. It is a bit
more difficult than the way
you put it, though.”

“Is
it?”

“There
were
some developments Potter wasn’t aware of. As far as I
understand it he found a
way to browbeat the Minister.”

“I
see.”
Draco replied. He felt sick.

“You
know
that he cares for you, don’t you?” Severus asked a
bit abruptly.

He
laughed
bitterly. “He does? I’m just a toy that’s
lost its novelty.”

“Draco
…”

“I
hate
him.” Draco said vehemently. “I would have done
anything for him. Everything he
would have asked of me. But I’m not good enough for the great
Harry Potter, am
I?”

Severus
regarded him thoughtfully. “Maybe than it is better for you
to hate him,“ he
finally said.

Draco
laughed gratingly and stopped abruptly, shocked to hear his voice so
distorted.
“Isn’t that the way it always was?” he
replied sarcastically.

***

The
whip
hit his back and sent a painful sting through his body. Draco knelt,
hands
folded behind his head. His position woke several strange feelings
within him,
most of them scaring the daylights out of him. He wanted to jump up and
run but
for some reason he couldn’t. He was rooted to the spot. He
closed his eyes and
felt the whip stroking his skin almost tenderly – from his
back over his
shoulder to his chest. Almost like a snake. Finally he felt it on his
thighs,
first one strap then the next until the handle fell into his lap. He
took a
deep breath when the arousal that he’d ignored previously
couldn’t be denied
any longer. Hands caressed his arms and caused a shiver to run over his
skin.
Somebody behind him bent down and he could feel his hot breath on his
nape.

“My
Dragon
…” a hoarse voice whispered in his ear.

Draco
breathed deeply. His heart hammered. His urge to please the owner of
this voice
was so overwhelming it almost hurt. A very small voice within him
claimed that
something was very wrong with this situation but was stifled by the
strange mix
of lust and desire that coursed through him.

“Please,
Sir …” he forced out.

Two
fingers
lifted Draco’s chin. He looked up and gazed right into
Harry’s emerald eyes.

“Please
what, my Dragon?”

“Please,
Sir …” he stammered. He trembled with tension.
“Let me …”

When
Harry
released his chin Draco bent down and kissed his naked feet. It
wasn’t enough,
though, to satisfy his urge so he licked them and enjoyed the slightly
salty,
unique taste of Harry’s skin. He continued to kiss and lick
Harry’s feet. He
circled an ankle with his tongue and sucked on it, completely filled
with the
feeling that awoke in him. An incomparable mixture of excitement and
lust he’d
never felt before. Finally Harry lifted his foot and stroked with his
toes over
his head. Draco instinctively leaned into it and enjoyed it when his
head was
pushed down gently until his forehead touched the floor.
Harry’s foot moved
over his head until it was put between his shoulder blades and Draco
felt his
heel in his neck. At this moment his tenseness reached its climax and
he came
with a shiver.

Draco
woke
up with a jolt. He was hot and his blanket was sticky with sweat and
semen.
Disgusted he pushed it away and gagged. Never before had he had such a
vivid
dream. He remembered every detail with clarity as if it had really
happened.
Every sensation, the taste the smell … He told himself that
it had been a
nightmare, but was it really that? You didn’t orgasm from a
nightmare, did you?
What unnerved him most was that it had never been that way between
them. There
had been occasions when Harry dominated him, for instance that one time
in front
of his colleagues or when the Minister had been there. But it had
always been
harsh and cold. Usually when they’d slept with each other
Harry had treated
Draco like a lover and left him in control more than once. In fact, now
that he
thought about it, Draco’d taken Harry more often than the
other way around. So
why confused his brain his existence as Harry’s slave and
their sex that way?
But more important, how could that arouse him? Because, it
couldn’t be denied
that’s exactly what it did. Even now, while fully awake, the
idea of Harry’s
heel in his neck sent a wave of heat to his groin. Draco gagged again
and
curled into a tight ball, disgusted by himself.

“I
hate
you,“ he whispered as if that could erase the feeling.
“I hate you, I hate you,
I hate you …”

***

“What
if
they want to examine me again?” Draco asked viciously.
“What are you planning
to do then?”

“I
wont
allow it.” Potter answered.

Draco
laughed cynically. “And if they take me away from you? What
then? You think I
want to go back to Azkaban?”

“They
can’t
reach us here. The house is guarded.”

Draco
snorted scornfully. “Right, and you’ll break the
law for me and become an
outlaw yourself. Risk your mudblood friend to loose her job at the
Ministry
and the Werewolf, too. You expect me to believe that, Potter? After you
so
recently made it clear how worthless I am in your eyes?”

Potter
paled but didn’t loose control. He just pressed his lips into
a thin line,
instead. “Well, what do you suggest?” he finally
asked with a strained voice.

“What
we
always did. Or do you have some glorious alternative?”

Potter
crossed his arms angrily. “I thought I wasn’t
allowed to touch you ever again.”

“I
changed
my mind.” he replied in a sarcastic tone. “But
…” Draco took a deep breath. He
been battling with himself for a while but he really didn’t
see any other way.
Even if they wanted to overthrow the Minister, something like this took
time.
He had no idea what went on in Potter’s head. On the other
hand, when had there
ever been going on much up there? He grimaced snidely. “This
time I don’t play
your games. No emotional fuzz. I know what you think of me and I
don’t feel
like fooling myself for your sake anymore. You want my body, you can
have it.
Nothing else.”

Potter’s
face was stony. Draco couldn’t guess what he thought. He
didn’t answer right
away, though. That told Draco that he’d gotten under his
skin, finally. It gave
him some sort of satisfaction.

“All
right.” Potter finally said, coldly. “My bedroom is
in the east wing, third
room on the left. Be there at nine tonight.”

Draco
bowed
mockingly and sat down.

“There
is
another issue.” Severus said, after silently listening to
them. “What if
someone comes visiting? I don’t worry about Mister Lupin or
Miss Granger. But
what about others?”

“I
just
don’t invite them.”

“How
charming your ignorance may be, Potter, there is the possibility that
you don’t
have that option.” There was a sparkle of anger in
Severus’ eyes.

Draco
grinned. Potter deserved that.

Potter
rose
angrily. “What have I done this time? Can’t you two
do anything else than pick
on me?”

Severus
stood and placed his hands on the table. “You know damn well
what you did to
Draco, Potter. As for me, I’m just trying to help.”

“Really?”
Potter retorted. “Well, you aren’t. Helping, that
is.”

“You
haven’t lost an ounce of your misguided arrogance that
already led you into
trouble in your time at school! Would it be so hard to listen to reason
once in
your lifetime? Or are you unable to understand that there are people on
this
planet who know something better than you do?”

“Shut
up!”
Potter shouted, loosing control. “You know nothing! How dare
you accuse me of
arrogance!”

Severus
opened his mouth to say something and paled. His hand went to his
throat and he
took several hectic breaths. Then he fell to his knees and lowered his
head.

Potter’s
fury died instantly. “Severus?” he asked worried.
“Severus, get up.”

Severus
obeyed but kept his head lowered.

“Say
something, please.”

Severus
shakily took some breath. “I offended you, Sir. Please,
forgive me.”

Potter
stared at him, baffled. Then realization dawned on him. “I
forgive you,
Severus.”

When
Severus looked up, his gaze was cold. “You silenced me
effectively,“ he said
icily.

Potter
avoided his gaze. “I’m sorry, Severus.”

“That’s
not
enough!” Severus hissed. He’d clenched his fist.
“I’m just your slave. You told
me that I don’t have to act that way. But if you really mean
that you have to
be careful what you do. Your word is worth shit if you continue to give
me
orders!”

“I
didn’t
mean it as an order!” Potter replied angrily.

“Oh
yes,
you did. Otherwise the magic wouldn’t have interpreted it
that way!” Severus
shot back.

Both
stared
at each other for a short while. Then Potter sighed and turned away.
“You are
right, Severus. I overreacted and I’m sorry about that. I
can’t promise that it
wont happen again but I’ll try.”

Severus
kept staring but finally nodded. “That’s the best I
can expect, I assume.”

Potter
breathed deeply. “Even if there are unannounced guests it
wont be a problem.
The house we’re currently in exists … dephased
… to the other one, in a manner
of speaking. For someone included into the guarding shields there is no
problem
slipping from one into the other. Everyone else will only see the
Mugglehouse,
like you’ve known it.”

“What
if
they want to see me or Severus?” Draco asked.

“There
is
no reason to do so. Severus never has been present before when guests
were
here. And I can always say that you are busy somewhere else.”

“That
may
work with your friends and colleagues. But what about the Ministry
officials?”

“Severus
is
out of their reach. About you …” Potter bit his
lips. “This discussion
shouldn’t be necessary.”

“But
it
is.” Severus said coolly. “The house may be safe,
but you can’t possibly tell
yourself that that is all that counts. The workings of the outside
world don’t
cease to exist just because we are sealed off from it.”

“I
know
that!” Potter snapped. He sounded like a defiant child.

“You’re
a
fool, Potter.” Draco said. “I always knew that
you’re not the quickest newt in
the pond, but to ignore facts we’ve lived by the whole last
year …”

Potter
hissed angrily. “I didn’t think, all right? You are
both right. I’ve succumbed
to wishful thinking and nothing else. Are you finished now?”

Severus
and
Draco snorted disparagingly almost at the same time. They looked at
each other
and grinned.

“Gryffindor.”
Severus said. It sounded almost friendly.

Draco
nodded, agreeing. Then he looked at the table. “You should
send some sets of my
slave clothes to my room, Potter. When you have visitors you can let
Dobby call
me and I will act accordingly.”

“That’s
the
easiest solution, of course.” Potter pressed out.

“I
don’t
get you.” Draco said, irritated. “On one hand it is
obvious that you don’t give
shit about me. On the other hand you get worked up about having to
treat me
like a slave. Maybe you’ve been hit by a few courses too
many. Or maybe it is
because of all those bludgers which hit your head.” He rose.
“If you want to
plan the downfall of that red haired nutcase you’ll have to
do it without me.
There has to be a library in this house or some other way to waste my
time more
sensibly.”

“Whatever
you want,” came Potter’s pesky stoic reply.

Draco
turned away without another word and left.

***

The
house
was big, in every aspect comparable to the Malfoy mansion. There was a
large
library and Draco spent the greater part of the afternoon there. The
rest of
the time he wandered through the house, sightseeing. Severus’
and Draco’s rooms
were in the west wing. They used guestrooms. In the east wing were the
master
bedrooms and another drawing room – additionally to the one on the
first floor where
they ate and met. In front of the house was a large but neglected
garden that
was probably congested with Gnomes and Jarveys. Draco wondered why the
house
elves didn’t maintain it. But maybe the Potters
didn’t have house elves. Or
Potter set them free; after all, his best friend was president of SPEW.
He
smirked. Only someone Muggle-born could come up with such an idea. It
was so obvious
that house elves didn’t want to be free. For them freedom was
horror. They were
born to serve. Wizards on the other hand shouldn’t be slaves.
Why didn’t she
focus her energy there? Draco spun this thought a little farther but
eventually
it confused him. Apparently there were ancient spells that could make
whole
generations of wizard families to slaves. They weren’t even
illegal or how else
could Severus’ status be legitimate? That was probably one of
these cases where
the law made an exception because nobody knew how to revoke the old
magic.
Still … at some time it had been completely natural to keep
wizards as slaves,
like it was now with house elves. It disturbed him. His parents taught
him to
respect the old traditions more than anything else. He grew up in the
believe
that his ancestors had been wise and infallible. The old times, when
wizards
had been powerful, were the golden ages. Justice and law ruled and
everything
was as it was meant to be. The Muggleborns had spoilt that by bringing
their ideas
into the Wizarding World. As soon as the rule of the purebloods was
re-established those times would come back and everything would be
better. What
did that mean? Should he accept his fate because apparently once it had
been
completely right to enslave the losers of a war? Should he treat
Severus
differently now that his godfather – was he still that?
– was a real slave
while he himself still was some kind of half thing? Or should he forget
everything he’d learned from his parents and act like what
felt right to him?
They’d been wrong in so many other instances …

The
evening
came faster than Draco would have liked and he prepared himself. Draco
had a
plan to avoid being ensnared again by Potter’s sweet lies. It
would be hard but
he wouldn’t let himself be used again that way. Potter would
use him anyway, in
a manner of speaking, but from Draco’s point of view it would
be different.
He’d had his share of casual relationships in the past, so he
didn’t delude
himself in thinking they weren’t possible. It was absolutely
possible to have
sex without feelings. It just required some planning.

Draco
showered and put on a lose robe and sandals. Potter wasn’t
there when he
entered the bedroom much to Draco’s appreciation. He was
deliberately early. He
stripped and knelt on the carpet beside the bed. For a few hours he
would be
Potter’s willing slave and tend to his needs. It was a duty,
nothing else, and
he wouldn’t allow Potter to convince him otherwise. That was
the only way he
could do this.

When
Potter
entered the room he halted for a moment before he closed the door.
“What are
you doing there, Draco?” he asked hoarsely.

“I’m
here
to serve you, like you wished, Sir.” Draco simply answered.

“I
don’t
want it that way.” Potter said annoyed.

Draco
looked up calmly. “It doesn’t matter what you
want.”

Potter
stared at him. He trembled slightly. “Well.” he
finally said, toneless. He
started to unbutton his robe.

Draco
rose.
“Let me do that for you, Sir.”

Potter
seemed a bit baffled but didn’t move when Draco started to
undress him. Draco
folded Potter’s clothes into an orderly pile and then knelt
again in front of
him. Potter was half hard; Draco’s actions had aroused him,
apparently.

Potter
hesitated a second, obviously unsure of what he should do.
“Get onto the bed.”
he then said.

Draco
obeyed without hesitation. When they were laying beside each other
Potter again
looked at him, uncertainly. Draco didn’t intend to endure
Potter’s stupidity.

“You
are
tense, Sir,“ he said. “Allow me to help you with
that.”

He
opened
the nightstand in search of massage oil and found it. Without comment
Potter
rolled on his belly, obviously glad that Draco took the initiative.
Potter
indeed was tense and stiff but Draco knew his body well enough since to
get him
to relax and enjoy it. When Potter turned on his back to allow Draco to
massage
his front the green eyed man was undeniably aroused. His pupils were
widened,
his breath was fast and a red shine shone on his cheeks. Draco was
proud of
himself. The sight of an aroused Potter didn’t leave him cold
but that was
okay. It was a purely physical response. Draco massaged
Potter’s legs and then
slid his tongue over Potter’s member. It didn’t
take much until Potter was
completely aroused and groaned with lust. Draco withdrew and rolled on
his back
reaching for the oil to prepare himself. But before he could do it
Potter took
the flask from Draco and did it for him. The sensation of
Potter’s fingers in
him was familiar and wonderful. Draco told himself that it was okay to
enjoy
it. It was a physical reaction; it didn’t mean that he felt
anything for Potter
beyond lust. Draco loved his smell, the touch of his hands on his hips
when he
finally entered Draco. Draco involuntarily wrapped his legs around him
and
reared up against him.

Harry
bent
down to Draco and kissed him. Draco loved his taste, it was unique,
none of his
former lovers had tasted like this. No one had kissed like this. He
felt his
arousal grow, the more when Harry took his dick in his hand and stroked
it.

“Yes,
my
Dragon.” Harry moaned into his mouth. They came together.

As
soon as
Draco’s afterglow lessened he pushed Potter away from him.
Draco felt terrible
and it was all Potter’s fault. Why did he have to kiss him?
Nowhere in Draco’s
plan had been a kiss. At least not that kind of kiss.

“Don’t
call
me that, ever again.” Draco choked out. “And never,
ever kiss me again.”

He
hastily
rolled out of the bed and, ignoring Potter, dressed as fast as he
could.
Luckily Potter didn’t say anything when he left.

Draco
slipped out of his robe as soon as he reached his room and stepped into
the
shower. He felt sick. Never in his life had he felt so bad after sex,
not even
after their first time. He scrubbed himself until his skin burned. At
last he
leaned against the tiled wall of the shower and sobbed. “I
hate you!” he cried.
His voice echoed inside the bathroom. If he yelled it only loud enough
maybe it
would drown out his unwanted feelings - someday.

***

“I’m
here
to serve you as you wished, Sir.”

Two
days
later. Potter had given Draco one day before he summoned him again. Of
course
he had to call him, they’d agreed he would.

“Undress
me.”

Draco
was a
little surprised when Potter took control but he obeyed.

“Last
time
you gave me a good massage. I want you to do it again.”

He
was
oddly grateful for Potter’s emotionless orders. They kept
them at a distance.

“Stop.”
Potter rapped out when Draco was about to take him in his mouth like he
did
last time. “Get off the bed.” Potter was breathless
and jittering.

Draco,
confused, obeyed.

Potter
followed and flipped his wand whereupon the bed grew higher until it
was high
enough to allow Draco to keep standing while Potter bent his upper body
over
the edge of the bed onto the mattress. Draco’s hands clenched
into the
comforter and he closed his eyes. Potter prepared him and thrust into
him.
Draco was pressed against the side of the bed and it was enough to let
him
climax at the same time as Potter. This time Potter didn’t
utter anything
besides an unintelligible hiss when he came. For a moment he kept
laying on
Draco then he stood and stepped away from him.

“You
can go
now.”

Draco
dressed, bowed and left. He still felt lousy but not as bad as the last
time
and he knew it was thanks to Potter. He’d made it more
impersonal. That didn’t
mean that Draco didn’t still hate him.

***

After
that
their sex always proceeded in a similar manner. They didn’t
talk except for
Potter’s curt orders. When they met outside of the bedroom
they fought, but
that didn’t happen too often. Draco withdrew from Potter and
Severus and spent
his time reading or exploring the garden.

The
Ministry checked on them only once. They brought a healer who examined
Draco.
Apparently they weren’t happy about the results but they
couldn’t find a fault
in how Potter treated him.

Draco
no
longer kept track of the time so it came somewhat as a shock when
Severus and
Potter finally succeeded. Draco didn’t know exactly how, but
somehow, with the
help of the Order, they’d forced Weasley to resign. Shortly
after the
Ex-Minister suffered a heart attack and died, mourned only by few.
Severus
looked amazingly self-satisfied when he read about it in the Daily
Prophet. If
there had been something amiss with the early death of the Minister, it
was
never found out. The minister post was offered to Potter but he
declined and
suggested Granger instead. The papers went nuts with praise of the
“cleverest
witch of the decade” and a short time later the first
Muggle-born in a long
time became Minister of Magic. Not even a month later the cases of the
supporters were reopened.