2nd Apr, 2009

Drabble: Definition of 'Free', R, 4/?

Title: Definition of 'Free'
Pairing: Harry/Draco, background Ron/Hermione
Rating: will vary, up to R
Warnings: slavery, slash
Word Count: 200



When Harry prepared to Apparate back home to mete out discipline, Ron asked if he could go along. "I'd love to see the Ferret's face when he realises what's coming to him" he snickered, dodging Hermione's incoming punch.

Harry couldn't help grinning back, but shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Ron. It's going to be hard enough as it is."

"What? Harry, after everything the ferret did, how can you not want -"

Harry cut him off. "I'm responsible for him, Ron. Not just in control. I'm not doing this for revenge, or -" He raked a hand through his hair and struggled to explain. "When you abandoned Hermione and me - would you have wanted us to confront you on that publically?"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "I thought we'd moved past that, so why bring it up now?"

Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "We have, Ron, it's not like that," she assured him, then explained, "he's trying to say that discipline is best done quietly, without humiliation or fanfare. Humiliation should never be used as punishment; it's cruel."

"It's something Voldemort was very good at," Harry added quietly. "And I don't plan to be anything like him."


Link to Part One

1st Apr, 2009

Drabble: Definition of 'Free', R, 3/?

Title: Definition of 'Free'
Pairing: Harry/Draco, background Ron/Hermione
Rating: will vary, up to R
Warnings: slavery, slash
Word Count: 200


Draco hated what the magic binding him required of him, and fought it tooth and claw. He hated calling Potter 'Master', but worse, he couldn't even do magic, not even a simple Lumos.

Harry got tired of Malfoy's whining quickly. Following Hermione's reluctant advice he assigned him chores to do, like folding the laundry and washing dishes and cooking.

Consequently, Harry found his bed short-sheeted (he had thought that was a purely muggle trick!). The first meal Draco made had been burned to charcoal, completely unedible - they had to order takaeout, Draco smirking as if he'd won a battle. And then he'd deliberately broken many of the dishes he'd dirtied in his 'cooking', forcing Harry to spend the evening repairing the antique china plates.

Harry had flooed over to the Burrow to ask Ron and Hermione for advice; surprisingly, it was Molly who had the solution. "If he's acting like a child, treat him accordingly," she said firmly. "A quick turn over your knee and several swats should do nicely, I should think - nothing hurt but his pride, and that could do with being taken down a notch!"

Ron had stared in shock, but Hermione, surprisingly, had grinned.

31st Mar, 2009

Drabble: Definition of 'Free', R, 2/?

Title: Definition of 'Free'
Pairing: Harry/Draco, background Ron/Hermione
Rating: will vary, up to R
Warnings: slavery, slash
Word Count: 200


Buying a slave was not at all what Harry expected; there were ceremonies, binding rituals, contracts signed in blood - things you'd expect of Dark magic.

Hermione insisted that any ritual that enslaved one human being to another against their will had to be dark arts. Ron said it used to be common practice for conquering wizards to enslave their defeated enemies, and didn't muggles used to do that too? After screaming at Ron, it was her turn to ask Harry what he meant to do with his newest acquisition.

Trutfully, Harry had no idea. It wasn't as if he'd meant to buy Malfoy, after all.

Once Hermione had calmed down, she had helped him research Wizard enslavement laws. "He needs a collar, something to mark him as yours. It's not just selfishness," she warned, forstalling his protests, "it's a mark of your protection. He has a lot of enemies."

Harry had snorted at that; Malfoy hardly needed his protection!

He changed his mind when he saw Draco at the ceremony, where he was forced to strip and kneel to receive the collar. He was pale and shivering; the collar was a slash of color against his skin, like Sectumsempra.

Link to Part One

30th Mar, 2009

Drabble: Definition of 'Free', R, 1/?

Name of this series is still sort of undecided, so expect it to change.

Title: Definition of 'Free'
Pairing: Harry/Draco, background Ron/Hermione
Rating: will vary, up to R
Warnings: slavery, slash
Word Count: 200



Prospective slaves - the Death-Eater prisoners who were considered just 'tame' enough to domesticate - were on display for those present, spelled into docility. Unlike the slaves, however, the crowd looking over the wares were there voluntarily, and by invitation only: there because the Ministry thought them strong enough, clever enough, and cruel enough to handle a slave who might plot the death and destruction of their owner.

Harry didn't want a slave. However, he absolutely loathed Umbridge, who had somehow gotten off with no more than a wrist slapping. He suspected she'd bribed someone to be here.

When she started bidding with her simpering, "Hem hem, 5 galleons, if you please," he literally saw red, clenching his hands into fists so tight that the scar - I will not tell lies - stood out white against his flushed skin, his wand held in a white-knuckled grip.

His hand shot up like he was under Imperius. "Ten galleons," he heard his own voice say, cold and harsh. He had more than enough galleons, even if the Ministry itself backed her.

Still, when the bidding ended, he found himself the shocked owner of one Draco Malfoy.

He hadn't even known who he was bidding on.


Link to Part Two

6th Dec, 2008

Drabble: Snow Angel - PG13

Title: Snow Angel
Characters: Harry, Draco
Rating: PG13 for blood and violence
Word Count: 500



The fresh-fallen snow is a cold austere blanket over these grounds. It makes Hogwarts seem long-abandoned, though in truth only a few years have gone by since the war against Voldemort and his demise – and the final closing of Hogwarts. It is just a hollowed-out shell; only an army of ghosts and bad memories walk those desecrated halls now.

It's the perfect place for retribution – and redemption.

He comes to him there, barefoot, clad in only his Slytherin robes, his skin pale and his cheeks wind scoured into bright roses. His eyes – sharp shards of rainy skies – are full of shadows, fear, uncertainty. But still, he comes. Still he drops his robe and stands in the snow naked in front of Harry, nearly as pale as the landscape.

Once he would have said Draco's heart was colder than the snow – but he knows better now.

It only takes an hour for his retribution to be cut into the blond's skin, for the failures and sins to be catalogued in blood. The fresh blood against the cold flesh is vivid, richer and darker than the blood of innocents, tainted. He uses a small, sharp blade; it makes the retribution personal. It drives the lesson home.

Draco never whimpers, never twitchs. The cold is a balm; he will feel the burning pain later. It is part of the healing process; nor will he speed the healing with spells or potions. He knows what is necessary and he will obey. He lies spread on the snow, arms flung wide, streaming with crimson - a fallen snow angel, marked and punished.

Later there will be more retribution – but not too much, now. Such a fine line to walk – he doesn't want Draco broken, he wants him shattered. So much more to come. But for now, there will be kindness – and the subsequent retribution will be all the more harsh for it.

“Get dressed.”

Clumsily Draco stands, numb; he knows what is expected of him. Silently he drapes the robe back over his lacerated body; the cloak will freeze to his wounds on the walk back. Tenderly, Harry touches the blond's face, strokes his cold cheek with a warm, bloody hand. “The blood sains you,” he told him earnestly, seriously. “Each time a little more.” The blond nods his head. Harry wonders what he thinks, if he really believes him – or if he understands -

- understands that the retribution will never really end. But it doesn't matter, because in the end, he always comes, and always bleeds, and neither of them ever heal.

Draco leaves first, as always; walking home the long way. His feet will be all but frozen and will need medical care. Harry allows that, so he can walk humbly to his next punishment. But not for long.

The wind is cold, cutting sideways and toying with Harry's cloak as he walks to the edge of the grounds to apparate. Cold – but not as cold as Draco.

And never as cold as Harry.