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Leashed.	By : Arioc Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1726 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Leashed.
- 1
First, if
you haven�t read Caged. � go do it, this is the sequel.

Second,
sorry for the delay, but I caught a bad case of RealLife� - this will take
longer than expected. But I will continue it. This will not, I repeat, not be
abandoned.

Third,
thanks to:

Balena aka
katraka, who made this possible by saying (roughly translated):

�In book
three I wanted to shoot Harry ... and pair Ron off with Peter afterwards. I�m
still searching for that pairing.�

It wouldn�t
leave me alone, so I had to write it (without Harry dying, that would have been
too complicated. Perhaps I�ll do a Harry-dies-in-third-year-story later (� much
later) just to find out what it�d be like),

Leo.org and
dict.cc, which helped me with most of the translation issues,

My
idiomatic dictionary, which helped a lot with idioms, sayings and commonly used
phrases,

My mother
and stepfather, who had to put up with me asking about all the stuff the web
and books couldn�t help me with (mostly not knowing the answer either),

And of
course everybody who has read/reviewed/rated this so far. You�re my motivation.

If you spot
an error, tell me. I can take critique, you know, I really can. If you want to
beta, I love you, and you�ll get free chocolate.

And now, I
give you �

Leashed.
Chapter One.

Coming home
was a blur. After the long train ride home, the lengthy good-byes with his
friends and the obligatory how�ve-you-been with his family, Ron was wolfing
down his dinner silently and went straight to his room afterwards.

For the
first time really alone that day, Ron let himself fall into his four-poster to
bask in the sudden freedom and the strange sense of peace that came with it.

Sure, there
was still a lot of noise in the Burrow, there always was. The creaking doors,
the voices that melted into a constant humming, the wind (or was it the ghoul?)
howling, whispering, moaning �but Ron knew how to shut all that out.

He had
spent several minutes just lying there when he felt his eyes drift shut for the
first time. He snapped them open at once, not wanting to fall asleep so soon
(and still clothed), but when it happened the third time he had to admit he was
very tired and should probably get up if he wanted to get at least a bit
unpacking done.

He was
halfway through sorting through his things when he spotted something he almost
managed to forget about in his trunk � the black rat leather harness.

He wondered
shortly if he could put it off until tomorrow, but decided against it. It was
better than the bulky cage, and if his family wasn�t to know about Peter, he
should keep the rat close to him.

Close to
him � it took Ron a while to remember what that implied: he used to carry
Scabbers around with him and let him sleep next to him in his bed or curled up
in his pyjama top pocket.

Which
brought him to the next problem: how to fasten the collar on Scabbers.

�Looks like
the cellular confinement is lifted. You�re in for a change of accomodation, eh,
Scabbers?�

Scabbers
blinked at him dumbly, but seemed intrigued when Ron brought the collar into
his view. Ron was not very dextrous, but managed to maneuvre his hands into the
small cage door better than he�d expected. It was impossible, though, to clasp
the collar with one hand, so he beckoned Scabbers closer.

�Come on!
I�ll only let you out on parole if you behave.�

There was
no doubt Scabbers understood this, or at least the letting out part, for he
started to squeak and shuffled over into Ron�s hands so quickly he nearly
dropped the collar laughing.

Ron fumbled
a while with the fastener, then turned to get the leash attached. Only when
he�d magically bound one end to the collar and the other end to the wall did he
notice that he�d given Scabbers ample opportunity to slip out.

I
shouldn�t be so careless, he thought. He might not have given the impression that he�s planning
his escape, but an open door may tempt a saint.

He was
suddenly hit by a wave of fondness for his loyal pet, but was careful not to
show it. He hid behind the door of his wardrobe from Scabbers� view as he was
changing into pyjamas and crawled quickly into his bed. The rat sat hesitantly
on his bedstand, and after eying each other for a minute, Ron patted the space
next to him on his bed.

�Come over
here already. Mum�ll be suspicious when she checks on me else.�

Ron
remembered his mother doing this a lot, though he stopped waking from it when
he grew older. As a child, he�d enjoyed the darkness that came with the door
closing behind her when she was leaving, and the comfort the knowledge someone
was watching over his sleep gave him. Scabbers had taken her place on this
score when he�d started school, even if he hardly watched out for Ron. Still,
not being alone at night had helped adjusting to life in Hogwarts.

As Ron was
lulled into sleep by his memories, Scabbers lay curled up against him,
listening to his steady breathing and slowing heartbeat like he�d done in past
years. Only when Ron started snoring softly did he drift off, too.

How he had
managed to fall asleep, Ron didn�t know, but he awoke well rested. Scabbers
slept curled up in his pocket like he�d done for years, and the boy marvelled
at the natural feel it had. Everybody needs someone to fall asleep with,
he thought. I wouldn�t trade Scabbers for the cutest puppy in the world.

Ron�s sense
of reality kicked in soon enough, though, and he carefully extracted the rat
from his pocket and put him on the floor, trying to shake off the lingering
cozyness. He didn�t hide from his view dressing, though, it seemed childish.
But he didn�t put on a show either, which - to his own surprise � he felt tempted
to do by the rat�s eyes burning into his backside whenever he turned. He
decided his imagination was overactive.

It was the
next evening after a similar day that he gathered his courage to let Pettigrew
transform. Ginny was already sleeping, the twins busy trying to be
unconspicious about their experiments and Percy locked in his room reading,
working, doing homework or whatever he was up to these days.

Ron had
managed to send friendly, if short letters to his friends in the morning.
Everything seemed to be in order, and this was the only thing he felt he had
left to do. He warded his room as best as he could, meaning a simple locking
spell on the door and a silencing charm he wasn�t so sure about whether it was
strong enough or would hold long enough. But it would have to do.

Ron
carefully enlarged the collar, but did so slowly. Even so, he discovered this
scheme wasn�t as well-planned as it had seemed at first � Scabbers had ample
opportunities to slip out of the collar now, and there was nothing preventing
him to revert to rat form again later.

What if
he slips out, transforms then, overpowes me and takes my wand? This is
carelessly insane! I�m about to set free a mass murderer.

For the
first time, Ron found himself being seriously afraid of Peter � he didn�t seem
that violent, but after all, he had blasted apart a whole street full of
muggles. That was not something to be taken lightly. Making a quick decision,
he shrank the collar back. Scabbers hadn�t started to change yet, and was
giving him a confused look. Or perhaps he was just watching, Ron wasn�t sure
one could really read emotions on a rat�s face.

�I�m sorry,
Scabbers. It�s nothing against you, you see. I really need to consult someone
first.�

But
whom?, he thought,
frowning.

Dumbledore?
I could owl him, I suppose, but I�d rather not pester the headmaster if I can
avoid it. Not about this, the collar was his idea, after all. I�m questioning
his own security arrangements, ain�t I?

He was just
about to resign himself to his inability to come to a conclusion, when the
obvious solution sprung to his mind. Professor Lupin! I will be meeting with
him anyway in a few days. He would know what to do.

�We�ll just
have to wait a few days, all right? And don�t look at me like that, it�s
nothing personal.�

Ron knew it
was, though. He even felt sorry for Peter, who looked (or seemed to look
anyway) as if christmas had been cancelled.

He decided
to get him a second dinner from the kitchen to make up for the conversation
they didn�t have - Perhaps it�s even for the better, we might have just
rowed again.

It was when
he went downstairs that he discovered Ginny hadn�t been sleeping at all, as she
was sitting in the kitchen along with their parents, the twins, as well as �

�Charlie!
What are you doing here? I didn�t know you were coming home for summer.�

Charlie
flashed him a wide welcoming smile and was about to say something when Fred cut
him off.

�We knocked
on your door, little brother.�

�Thought
you were asleep,� George added.

His mother
shot him a sceptic look that clearly said she suspected them of leaving him out
on purpose. Apparently, Charly sensed the approaching trouble, too, for he
intervened.

�Well, now
that you�re here, I have some matters to discuss with you, if you don�t mind.�

Fred rolled
his eyes.

�Uh, yeah,
he requested your presence specifically.�

Ron was
puzzled.

�Er, okay.
What is it?�

�Oh, not
here. From man to man.�

Charlie
winked at him.

�Or from
brother to brother, if you prefer. Anyway, as I told the rest already, I�ll be
staying for a week only � one of the dragons at the preservative died, and they
decided I could use some free time now that there�s one thing less to do.�

�Yes, no
surprise � everytime you come home you�re thinner than before.�

�Oh, mum,
please, that�s just because you fatten me up so much every time I�m here. I
always leave ten pounds heavier!�

�And that�s
not nearly enough! I wonder what they do to you there, you�re starved!�

�Mum, I
need to be fast and stealthy, not fat and lazy for my job.�

�balderdash,
there has yet to be found a lazy Weasley.�

�I fly a
lot, and work out. I�m athletic, not skinny.�

The twins
gave a snort that Molly chose to ignore.

�You can�t
have been flying much, or you would have noticed a light breeze can throw you
off.�

Ron stopped
listening and collected some bread and cheese he knew Scabbers liked. He knew
his mother and Charly were always bickering like this, and recognised it as
their way of greeting. Charly had always been skinny, and Molly had always
fussed over it � Ron supposed some things never changed.

Ginny was
starting up a conversation with George and Arthur stared tiredly at his teacup
when Ron moved to the stairs again, unsure what Charly wanted to tell him but
unwilling to interrupt him. As nobody paid him attention, he silently made his
way to his room. Halfway up the stairs he heard Charly hastily bidding everyone
a good night and coming after him.

So he
did notice me leaving.

Ron stopped
and turned. Must be important, then, whatever he has to say. Please
don�t let this be The Talk. Das has had only a few sentences to spare
for the subject so far, and probably considers me inadequately educated now.
But no, he wouldn�t send Charly, in that case.

�Sorry, you
know how mum is,� Charly apologized, then eyed his rat snacks.

�Nicking
food late at night and then sneaking away with it, eh?� Charly teased.

�Oh, no.
Dinner for Scabbers.�

�Ah.�
Charly suddenly grew serious.

�Let�s go
to your room.�

Ron
complied. For all the fuss, he was still surprised when Charly warded the door,
using some spells Ron had never heard before.

Charly sat
down on the chair in front of Ron�s desk, but didn�t say anything, instead
looking around the room intently.

Ron decided
to wait him out (he had had practice with Peter, after all), and to stop
feeling stupid about standing around, he fed Scabbers his treats, watching the
rodent feast with dedication.

�So,�
Charly finally began.

�You and
Peter.� He didn�t say anything else, awaiting Ron�s reaction, who sat staring
at Scabbers, betraying no emotion. Neither the shock of Charly knowing, nor the
relief of not having to hide Scabber�s identity, nor the guilt of treating
Scabbers affectionately in front of him.

You and
Peter. It sounded like an engagement announcement. Or Professor Lupin pairing
them up for dueling practice � Malfoy and Nott, Granger and Potter, and oh,
Weasley, you can go with Peter. Go with Peter. Ron did some thinking and
changed the subject, still not looking at his brother.

�So.
There�s no dead dragon at the preservative.�

He turned
around, then, studying Charly, who gave him a appreciative smile.

�You found
me out.�

Ron nodded.

�Who sent
you?�

�Dumbledore,
though not personally. I received orders through someone else.�

�Whom?�

�Sorry, I�m
not allowed to tell. You might have guessed he installed me as additional
security for our guest.�

�To protect
me, or to protect him?�

�You. Well,
both of you, I guess.�

�I see.�

Charly
frowned.

�You sure
have a whole new style of conversation, Ronnie. What�s got into you, I�m your
brother.�

Ron
hesitated, then sighed.

�It�s just
� I have to be careful what to say all the time now. If it offends someone,
spills secrets, if someone might be listening in. I never had secrets like
that. It�s like � a detective story, you know. You know everybody after a few
pages, but then you don�t and learn more. And more, and still more.�

Charly
nodded gravely.

�Layers
upon layers of personality.�

�And their
history. Stuff from the past surfacing.�

�That, too.
Do you really think you�re up to those conversations? Don�t let it get to you too
much, allright?� A glance at Peter.

�You seem
so changed.�

�Nobody
really trusts me with this, do they?�

Ron tried
to affect an indignant tone, but Charly burst out laughing.

�Oh, no, I
think I do. You�re so thickheaded, I don�t think anything can throw you
off-balance. It�s just strange to see you so serious, you know.�

�Thickheaded,
am I now?�

Charly
snickered.

�Oh yes,
and always have been. I pity those who mistake it for stupidity. As long as
you�re on firm ground, you can achieve anything.�

�But this
ist new to me.� Ron gesticulated sullenly at the rat again.

�And there,
you�re serious again. How am I supposed to be a bad influence on you? You can�t
be influenced at all. I can�t even get you to change the subject.�

Ron allowed
himself a smile then and flopped himself on the bed.

�Remember
the time you tried to convince me Dad keeps gnomes in the garden for gruesome
experiments at the ministry?�

�Ah, but
you were too clever for me.�

�I did
believe you, at some point. I just didn�t want you to know it.�

�You � you
sneaky little shit!�

Charly
started to tickle Ron, who tickled right back.

When they
were both satisfyingly out of breath, Ron brought the subject up again.

�Still, the
talks I have with Peter are strange. He � hey, what are you doing?�

Charly sent
a spell at Scabbers before Ron could act. However, it didn�t seem to do
anything dangerous, in fact, it didn�t seem to do anything at all.

�Just
keeping him out of the conversation. You shouldn�t let him know too much about
you, or what you think of him.�

�Oh. Okay.
But it�s not as if he doesn�t know me already, remember, I�ve been keeping him
for nearly three years now.�

�Still.
This is different. Now, you were saying?�

�Yes. Well.
He�s talking a lot about his days at school, but I�ve not yet learned how he
got that deep into � stuff. And it doesn�t seem to fit together, to me, cause
he�s not an amoral beast at all. Just a bit bitter. You could easily forget
he�s a killer, you know. When I saw Sirius Black � he had those cold, haunted
eyes. He looked every bit the villain they made him out to be. Peter seems just
a pitiful worm � he was so pathetic then it was disgusting. But then, he�s much
more normal than that lately. I don�t really get him, I�m just afraid I have
to, at some point.�

Charly gave
him a symphathetic look.

�I believe
you grow on the job, always. And I�m not blaming you if you stop these talks or
blast him apart in a rage. Or if you symphathize.�

Ron looked
up, surprised. Charly shrugged nonchalantly.

�I�m not
judging. Not you, not him, not anybody. And I don�t want to. He�s done some
pretty bad things, and I�d rather kill him than allow those to happen again,
but he could still be a nice chap otherwise. I don�t believe there�s such a
thing as �unforgivable�. Crucio those bastards that killed mums brothers? Fuck
yes. Avada kedavra the child molestor they caught last month, the obliviator? I
would. It�s kinder than a dementor�s kiss, even. Unforgivable? How can anything
be unforgivable? It needs only one symphathiser in the world to make something
forgiveable. I still haven�t forgiven some pranks the twins played on me. But
I�ve forgiven them. I try to judge only actions, not persons. So do you,
as far as I know.�

�I do?� Ron
felt slightly dizzy and was not sure he understood everything.

�After
you�ve put your initial emotions aside, at least. You carry grudges all right,
but not against the whole person. When George gave you those boils? You were
angry with him like hell and didn�t talk to him until he made up for it, but
you defended him against Uncle Alphard when he suggested some pretty
interesting punishments.�

Ron
remembered vaguely, but it still didn�t make much sense to him, especially as
he didn�t really agree with Charlys conclusion. He believed he judged pretty
easily, and thinking of Lupin, carried a lot of prejudices as well.

�Me, I
learned it with dragons,� Charly continued, �You don�t hate dragons for what
they are. You should still run when you see one, but you don�t tell yourself:
�That�s am evil dragon that should be punished�. You know you look like a nice
meal, or perhaps an annoying insect to him, or, if the dragon in question has
encountered humans before, like a mortal enemy. None of this is yours or the
dragons fault. It just is, and of course you would kill the dragon (if you can)
to save your life anyway. You�d probably kill an unicorn in a similar
situation.�

Ron
shuddered, thinking of what Harry�d seen in the forest their first year. He was
pretty sure he wouldn�t kill a unicorn for his life, even if just not to become
like Voldemort in any way.

�Or perhaps
not, but you see what I mean, don�t you? I believe it�s like that with all
things that are believed to be good or evil.�

Ron was
still feeling wrongfully complimented, somehow, but his fascination with this
whole new philosophical side of his brother was stronger.

�And here I
thought you were working with dragons because you like hard work better than
rumination.�

�That,
too.�

�I don�t
believe you.�

Charly
shrugged.

�Well, I
do. Doesn�t stop me from thinking from time to time. You started that, too,
didn�t you?�

�Could be.
If you mean thinking about abstract stuff I normally don�t care for.�

�Except you
do, now. What you said before � layers of personality ��

�You said
that.�

�You
mentioned it first, perhaps not in those words. What I�m trying to say is,
you�re going through a lot of changes now. You�re thirteen, and start looking
at the world differently now.�

�You sound
like dad.�

�Do I,
now?�

�You�re
going through a lot of changes, son ��

Charly
started snickering again.

�� You�re
turning into a man, now,� Ron continued quoting jokingly.

�Well, you
do. Believe me when I tell you it�s not the first hair on your balls that marks
the occasion, but the first really stupid idea.�

�Really.
Like what?�

�Like
agreeing to play counselor for mass murderers. Or getting pissed at hogsmeade
weekend and trying to impress the ladies by barfing at their feet. Or breaking
into McGonagalls office to peek at the next essay topic. Or deciding to imitate
every quidditch move the cannons flew in the legendary match agains the harpyes
in 1986 and not stopping after the first week in the hospital wing.�

Ron took
his time to finish laughing.

�You didn�t
do all that, did you?�

�No, you
prat! I would never, ever have agreed to counsel little squeaking Peter there.
But you did, and you see what my problem with that is, now?�

�Er � no?
Not really.� Charly dropped his head in his hand in exasperation.

�You didn�t
say,� Ron accused him.

�Oh, well.
What I�m trying to say, you�re approaching an age where you�re vulnerable to
manipulation. I do have faith in you. I just don�t think it�s good for you to
have so many secrets. That�s why Dumbledore let me in on the story, you know.
To make sure you have someone you can talk to.�

�Yeah, I
sure miss the times when I could tell our parents everything.�

�Yes, but
that�d be happening anyway, sooner or later. Keeping secrets is nothing
unusual, though I admit this one is. Still, you have friends, and teachers, and
me. And one day you�ll discover not telling your parents everything can be a
good thing, too, especially once you find yourself a girlfriend.�

�Or a
boyfriend.�

Charly gave
Ron an amused quirk of the eyebrow.

�Is there
something specific you want to talk about but won�t tell mum or dad?�

�What? Oh,
no, it�s just � I realized it�s an option. Not necessarily for me, you know.�

The
amusement didn�t leave Charlys face.

�I see.
What prompted this?�

�Er � Peter�s gay. I don�t even know why he told me.�

�Perhaps he
wanted you to know � you know, to see how you would react, or even in hopes
you�re gay, too.�

�No, I
don�t think it�s that,� Ron said hastily. He wasn�t too sure, though. When he
thought back at the glances Peter had given him both as a rat and as a man, it
didn�t seem too unlikely that he was lonely in a more specific way. He might
even have been flirting with me. Urgh.

�That�s
okay,� Charly said. �You just do seem to take this job very seriously.�

Peter
might even have succeeded, Ron mused. I can�t really get him out of my head.

�Yeah, but
Dumbledore told me to. Who am I to not do my best?�

Charly
nodded.

�You�re a
good man, Ronniekins, you are.�

He patted
him on the shoulder.

�And if
you�ll excuse me now, I�m kind of tired. Let�s talk tomorrow, okay? And tell me
when you want to let him transform, will you?�

Ron nodded,
and Charly left.

He said
man. You�re a good man. Not boy. Under these circumstances I can overlook the
pet name.

Ron
undressed quietly, lolling on the bed.

The door to
his room opened again, and he hastily burrowed into his blanket.

�Sorry. I
think I gave you a deaf rat. Couldn�t leave him that way, could I?�

Ron was
tempted to say �why not�, but didn�t.

Charly
lifted the spell he�d placed on Scabbers and left again with a cheery
good-night.

Well, Ron mused. That was an
interesting conversation. Especially the judging part. I think I do judge
people, and Charly�s wrong about me. Hm, perhaps he knows that and is trying to
guilt me into trying to change by complimenting me on something I�m not. But
no, not Charly. He�s not that sly. Or is he?

Ron kicked
the blanket off to enjoy the light draught of his room on his bare skin.

It�s
funny how you never know about your prejudices until you act on them. Heck,
even then you have to analyze your actions later.

Homosexuality,
for example. I don�t know if I�m gay or not, but I told both Harry and Charly
I�m not, out of defensiveness. So I do seem to have problems with that.

Ron thought
about his reaction to Dean in the Quidditch showers and wondered for the first
time if that would have happened in the girls� showers, as well.

Was it
possible to like both sexes? It probably wasn�t, but he would find out,
wouldn�t he? When he was grown up, perhaps, and until then, he just would have
to wait and see. Or try to find out, just doing what he felt like. And Ron knew
exactly what he felt like now.

Not
judging, Ron
smirked. I guess this isn�t what Charly meant.

Then he
lifted the rat on his bed, letting it roam freely.

�Not
judging� drowned out any feelings of wrongness at the tickling of the rat�s
feet scurrying across his abdomen, and it was blissfully easy not to think
about what Hermione or Harry or even Dumbledore would say if they knew about
this as the tickling resumed on the very place Ron wasn�t ticklish at all. He
doubted he would mind if a feather, elsewhere an instrument of torture, would
carress him there.

Ron loved
his prick, he really did - but then again, who didn�t? It was not very large, a
bit crooked, took its time to harden and felt a bit squashy until it did, but
it was the only one Ron had and, quite simply, loved.

Scabbers
seemed to share that attitude and was displaying the due care and respect in
his nibbling and scratching (Ron knew he would do that.)

Scabbers
didn�t ask questions, didn�t look surprised, didn�t hesitate, didn�t want to be
introduced to his parents and didn�t tell him he was too young for this kind of
games (not that he could have.) He just went for it, exactly as Ron had hoped
and perhaps even anticipated. His claws were sharp and his fur rough, but Ron
didn�t go for soft. He liked to cuddle all right, but he wasn�t one for sweet.
This wasn�t sweet. This was bliss.

Tiny rat
paws worked on his cock, administrating delicately unrhythmic pressure. Those
teeth felt a lot larger than Ron knew they were, but the sparkling sensation
they sent through him made anything but trust impossible. Rons hands grabbed
the leash, just in case, but he didn�t once feel tempted to pull Scabbers away.
To prevent invading thoughts and fears from intruding this perfect moment, he
closed his eyes and let his head drop into his pillow. When he felt Scabbers
rub against him, he nearly came on the spot � there was no mistaking the rat�s
intentions now. This was not his depravity forcing himself on an animal, this
was what Scabbers wanted. Being wanted was not something Ron was particularly
used to, and involuntary he thrust his hips upwards, nearly throwing Scabbers
off.

Sweating
and panting, Ron tried to remain in control, but couldn�t hold back much
longer.

This ist
not like wanking. This is not like wanking at all.

That it was
a rat getting him off didn�t matter. Ron tried to repress the thought of both
the person and the animal. In the end, it was pure, unfiltered desire, desire
for him from a living being that fed his desire. That it was not himself
whacking off, but someone elso who wanted him to come.

So he did.

Scabbers
tried to duck from the fluid projectile, which caused his claws to sink
painfully into Ron�s balls. Ron was too far gone to notice.

When he
regained his ability to breathe, Scabbers was crawling over his rapidly
softening dick, rubbing against it as he reached the tip where he set about
cleaning Ron up with the utmost care. Though feeling sated and slightly numb
from the receding tingling everywhere, his prick was still very sensitive, and
without the urgency of approaching orgasm, Ron could appreciate the
extraordinarily beauty of the moment even more.

He could
feel Scabber�s dick against his, and it was leaking. There was not a
single thing in Ron�s life ever that fascinated him like the leaking penis of
the rat currently slobbering his come out of his navel. It made him feel
strangely helpless and powerful at the same time.

When
Scabbers finally came, Ron was suddenly very tired. He lifted the blanket to
wipe himself clean, and Scabbers moved over to his side.

A moment
later they were both fast asleep, snuggled against each other and snoring
peacefully.

Authors
note: I do know Ron doesn�t know the unforgivable curses yet (Charly mentions
them). I just decided to overlook that.
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Leashed.