Pet

*~*~*~*
EIGHT
*~*~*~*
Harry caught his heavy black hair in his hands and casually braided it, feeling the weight settle along his spine. Without his magic perpetuating the trademark Potter rat’s nest, his hair had grown at an alarming rate. He pulled the hair back from his face; Harry no longer hid himself or his scar beneath cowlicked bangs.

Weeks and months passed and Harry began to grow comfortable in the Malfoy Estate. Narcissa had miscarried several more times and, oddly, seemed to accept Harry more with each painful loss. Harry never totally relaxed around the witch; there was an undercurrent to her acceptance of him and he was not too much a Gryffindor to ignore it.

More puzzling to Harry than Narcissa’s acceptance was his own feelings for Lucius. Lucius was not and never would be a simple man, but Harry had begun to enjoy his time with the white blond wizard. Was he falling in love with the man? How, he wondered, could he possibly be in love with a man who owned him, who was rarely gentle and was always possessive? His confused emotions made his head ache; how many of his feelings were real and how many were in reaction to the bond?

He talked with Severus about his odd thoughts and the Potions Master had first looked at him strangely before starting to laugh a bitter laugh. The older wizard was experiencing many of the same conflicting emotions. In the end, they decided that it was out of their control. It was either a reaction to the bonds their masters had placed on them, they were victims of a Muggle malady known as “The Stockholm Syndrome”, or they were both slowly going insane.

*~*~*~*
With Lucius busy with the post-war reorganization of the Ministry of Magic and Draco attending his first year at a wizarding university, Narcissa occasionally sought Harry out for tea or luncheon.

Lady Malfoy was slowly accepting an unwanted truth. The Obstetric Mediwizards at St. Mungo’s had cautioned her about attempting another pregnancy. All the fertility potions and bed rest in the world could not prevent her uterus from expelling the fetus. They had gently suggested adoption, but Narcissa knew Lucius would never accept a child not of his own flesh.

“Mistress?” Harry spoke gingerly. “Muggle doctors have perfected a technique…I don’t remember the name of the procedure, but they can take your egg and Master’s sperm and transplant it into the womb of a surrogate mother…She would give birth to a child that would be genetically yours.”

“Why would a Muggle woman carry another woman’s child?”

Harry thought for a moment. He had often wondered that as well. “Sometimes it is a family member…like a sister or cousin and they do it out of love…Some women do it out of some altruistic need to help childless couples and others…well…they rent out their wombs for monetary compensation.”

Narcissa smiled and poured Harry another cup of herbal tea. He really didn’t like the taste of it; it tasted like something Severus might brew, but Aunt Petunia had drilled courtesy and manners into him at an early age, so he hid his distaste and emptied the cup.

*~*~*~
Harry splashed cold water onto his face; he felt terrible. Once again, he had been summoned to tea with Lady Malfoy. The odd tasting herbal tea left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

“Accio toothbrush,” Harry said jokingly, but was not really surprised when it did not move.

*~*~*~
Despite his best attempts at hiding, Harry was subjected to tea with Narcissa Malfoy. Today she served Earl Gray tea. Harry was grateful; he didn’t think he would be able to handle the odd herbal tea on his unsettled stomach.

Narcissa seemed to be easing out of the depression the miscarriages caused. She talked of plans for the gardens and flowers for her greenhouses. Harry was happy when the endless prattle about lilliums and iris abated and he was dismissed. His lower abdomen ached; it felt tender, almost bruised, as if he had done too many abdominal crunches at one time. Harry headed down the halls to his bedroom, intending to take a long, relaxing soak in his bath.

Strong arms pulled him into one of the numerous guest rooms and he found himself pinned against the door, possessive kisses threatened to devour him. Lucius’ broad hands ran over his slender figure and talented fingers made quick work of his robes.

Harry’s heart sank. He really was not feeling well, but he was a well-trained pet and knew better than to refuse his master’s advances.

Harry’s slender fingers loosened the buckles and laces holding Lucius’ elegant robes closed. He kissed and nipped exposed bits of flesh, hoping his master would be satisfied with his mouth only, hoping he could be satiated with just oral sex.

Lucius found himself pushed back on the large guest bed, Harry’s well-trained mouth pleasuring him. Harry slid down his master’s body, trying his hardest to avoid intercourse. His lower abdomen was so tender, he didn’t know how his body would react if Lucius took him roughly.

The white blond wizard moaned softly as his concubine sucked on the head of his cock. Harry relaxed his throat and took Lucius’ full length into his mouth; months of practice came into play as Harry deep throated him. One of his hands massaged Lucius’ testicles.

Lucius was taken off guard by Harry’s foreplay; his pet was almost always a passive player. The sprite’s aggression aroused him and the talented mouth was rapidly bringing him to climax. Too soon for that, he thought and pulled away.

“Hungry, Pet?” he purred pulling the slender figure onto his chest. Harry trembled as Lucius caressed his hairless flesh; the diversion had not worked. Lucius felt the shaking beneath his fingers and thought Harry was frightened he would be punished for his boldness. Seeking to re-assure his concubine, he rolled, pinning Harry beneath his larger form.

“Don’t be frightened, Pet.” He entwined his fingers in Harry’s flowing hair and captured his lips. “That was a pleasant surprise.”

Defeated, Harry relaxed as much as he could while Lucius prepared him. Harry gasped in pleasure as Lucius devoted attention to his prostate; thoughts of his tender stomach were pushed into the background.

“Like that, little slut?”

Resting Harry’s thin ankles on his broad shoulders, Lucius leaned in to kiss him, folding the slight figure almost in half. With short strokes, Lucius breached the tight channel and buried himself to the hilt. He seemed content to set a slow pace, kissing and caressing the slender body beneath him.

~*~*~*~
Narcissa paused beside the guestroom door. She heard the rocking of the antique bed and Harry’s soft moans. The familiar sound of her husband’s release drifted into the hallway. With a wan smile on her face, she continued down the hallway to her private chambers.

*~*~*~
Afternoon meetings mercifully cancelled, Lucius apparated home to Malfoy Manor and strode into the smallest dining room, intending to join his wife for lunch. His eyebrow raised; he had not expected his concubine to be sharing the meal.

The dark wizard sat at the head of the table, between his wife and his pet. A place setting appeared before him. Narcissa had been deep in a one sided discussion about flowers; she silenced at her husband’s approach and seemed oddly nervous. He glanced at Harry who wore an almost blank expression and actually looked a little gray. As he thought about it, his pet had been looking rather pale of late.

Harry reached for his freshly poured cup of tea; his stomach lurched at the scent of the herbs. He brought the bone china teacup to his lips, but did not drink. Casually, he placed it back on the saucer. The subtle action was not lost on Lucius.

Narcissa startled and immediately recovered her façade as Lucius poured himself a cup of tea from the teapot. The aroma of the tea sparked his curiosity; Narcissa was not one who usually favored herbal teas. He took a sip, the bitter flavor assailing his taste buds. He set the cup down and brought his napkin to his mouth, he spat the vile substance into the cloth.

Narcissa stiffened at the cobra-like expression on her husband’s face.

“Narcissa darling?”

“Yes, Lucius?”

“Stupefy.”

Harry backed up, his eyes locking on Narcissa’s frozen figure. Lucius leaned over and stroked his wife’s frozen cheek.

“Poison, ‘Cis? How undignified. It is something I would have expected from Bella.”

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