Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
A/N: Sweetness and History ahead. A lot of you have asked for both of these things, so I think you'll be happy with it.
Happy Birthday
April and May passed uneventfully. They got fillings for their cavities, were putting on healthy weight, progressing through their vaccines, and Harry got cute black, plastic-framed glasses in a round shape. Plus, reading, writing, and maths were coming easier for both boys.
As for Liam, he was getting more comfortable with the business side of the club and spent a few days a week actually working there as a manager. They saw Jess and Drey twice more for business lessons at the club, and both times Draco and Harry tagged along. Since Jess had agreed to be Harry's on-paper “guardian”, they all figured getting to know each other wasn't a bad thing.
Draco was especially relieved that he was beginning to truly understand the club. It went like this: the expenses and taxes for the club were about $646,000 every 18 months. That meant serving 160 customers every night, assuming $5 per average drink and 1.5 drinks per person. Of course, they didn't want to just break even. They wanted to make a profit, but they didn't want to charge too much or they would have fewer customers. Like every club and bar, Brendon had added an additional charge to how much the drinks actually cost them.
But it wasn't all doctors and lessons. The weather was growing warmer, and during one of their park excursions, Draco and Harry discovered the game of baseball. With Harry as pitcher and Draco as the catcher calling all the shots, Harry actually relaxed and enjoyed himself. (He'd been anxious when they played with other kids ever since Draco's episode.) Plus Dr. Khan fully approved of the exercise since it was a non-contact sport, as long as the boys were careful with their still mending bodies.
June arrived before anyone knew it, and the day before Draco's sixth birthday, Liam asked the blond to absent himself for a few hours while he and Harry went to buy decorations to put up in the apartment. Draco was about to say it wasn't necessary, but the sheer strength of - excitement love - that poured from Harry convinced him otherwise. With a sigh and a smile, Draco said he'd go see if there were any games in the park he could join.
Liam and Harry went a little crazy. They bought several rolls of blue, red, green, and yellow streamers, balloons, confetti, hats, some games, a huge cake, several bouquets of flowers, and enough food to feed ten people. They hurried it home, put the food away, and hid the rest in Liam's room. Then they went to the park to see if they could find Draco.
Harry was grinning ear-to-ear and giggling, and Liam couldn't stop smiling. They looked goofy as hell, that was for certain, but it was their Draco's special day. They were going to make sure it was perfect.
...
Lucius Malfoy flooed into the receiving foyer of his family home, his expression hard as stone. It was nearing midnight. The fifth of June was less than an hour away. In his hand, he had a folder with the remaining photos of himself at six years of age that he had handed out.
All day he had given interviews to newspapers – Muggle and magical alike – from across the globe about his missing son. He had also met with the nearly six dozen investigators and mercenaries he'd hired from every continent. This year he had increased the reward for Draco's return to thirty thousand galleons, which was the equivalent of just more than half-a-million euro and just shy of five hundred and sixty thousand American dollars.
Over the last week, he'd seen dozens of blond boys brought to him by deceitful, greedy families and innocently mistaken mercenaries as Draco's birthday drew near and the story of the lost pureblood baby became popular again. He had yet to find Draco, however.
Throwing the folder and pictures down on a coffee table, Lucius unhooked his robes and let them fall to the floor. He knew where Narcissa would be. She would have already begun the blood ritual that would climax at the twelfth chime of the clock. On nearly silent feet, he transversed the large, elegant hallways of the manor, blind to the opulent wealth and gorgeous artwork. His soft leather boots made only the softest whisper as he climbed down the steps that led to the dungeons and ritual rooms.
Every year Narcissa hoarded her magic for this one moment, this one spell, and every year she felt the backlash as whatever protected Draco from every known tracking spell, Dark magic, and blood-spell rebuffed her. It would leave her wrecked for nearly a month.
Lucius had begged her to leave it, to try other means of searching for their son, but she ignored him. She had left the mundane searches to Lucius; she would command the magical search, and she was a powerful and intelligent witch. She knew that this blood-ritual was the most powerful in existence. If this did not work, nothing would.
Stepping off the last step, Lucius walked through the cold, stone passageway of the dungeons and opened a great metal door to the right. There, deep beneath he earth, Narcissa knelt naked. Her long blonde hair fell down her back and pooled around her hips and on the floor. Glowing runes were carved with precision into her pale, porcelain skin.
The symbols traveled from the base of her throat, down between her breast and the center of her stomach, before outlining a six-inch circle right over her uterus. The blood gently rose from each cut unaffected by gravity and created droplets of rain that had yet to fall. Narcissa knelt in the exact center of this ruby mist. Her head tilted back, her expression filled with such powerful longing that Lucius could hardly bear to see it.
Latin spilling from her lips, Narcissa repeated the incantation again and again, building it's power, letting her blood flow free. She was glowing now, white and pale, like the light of the moon or the cold stars. Lucius' heart beat hard in his chest. Would this be the year the spell hiding Draco gave way? Would they find their son?
The first chime of midnight resonated though the manor. The blood hanging in the air trembled and began to slowly move back toward Narcissa. The second chime. Four ribbons of blood formed at each of the four compass points just as they always did out from Narcissa's shoulders, sternum, and back. Third chime. Lucius stared hard, trying to see if any one ribbon was growing fatter than the others. Fourth. The ribbons were thick now, almost as wide as Lucius' wrist. They undulated gently. Fifth...
Lucius held his breath. Ripples appeared and he felt his stomach drop. Sixth. Violent turbulence grew within the precious liquid. Seventh. The blood exploded in all directions, splattering him, the walls, and Narcissa. With a wretched cry of pain, she collapsed and began to sob.
Saying nothing, Lucius moved forward and grabbed the cloak waiting against the wall. He gently covered his wife and lifted her into his arms. He didn't need to cast a spell. She hardly weighed ninety pounds. Cradling her to his chest as if she were his child, he carried her from the room, out of the dungeons, and into the warm light of the manor.
Not that it mattered. Their hearts were cold without their child, made worse because of the Malfoy curse. It was a very closely guarded secret of the Malfoy family, but long ago a blood curse was laid down so that only one Malfoy child could be born per generation, a single son. The evil bitch who'd cast the spell had laughed, so the story went, and asked Armand Malfoy just how long he thought his bloodline would continue? One generation? Two? Which Malfoy would be the one to end the line and lose their only child before they could reproduce?
That was nine hundred and twenty years ago. Lucius was the thirty-second Malfoy since that curse. Draco was the thirty-third. Malfoys were survivalists. They were powerful. That curse would not stop them or break their family. If they could only have one son, they would put everything into that son. They would make those sons strong.
Of course, Narcissa had been told of the curse before the marriage. She had loved him enough to marry him in spite of her desire for a big family. She had trusted him and her own power to protect Draco until he was old enough to protect himself. And then the unthinkable happened. Draco was stolen.
August 15^th, 1981, Lucius had been summoned to a Death Eater meeting. He'd expected to be told the next step in the war, to be shown the path to victory. Instead, the Death Eaters had endured torture as their Lord demanded with almost insane fervor that they find Little Harry Potter. As soon as they were dismissed, Lucius had not stuck around. That long ago night, he remembered thinking, Perhaps I should reconsider this path. But it was too late.
All thoughts had disappeared from his mind as soon as he was out from under the Dark Lord's wards and Apparated home. The oppressive weight of the magic saturating his home had taken him to his knees. Calling for the elves and getting no response, Lucius had understood instantly that the impossible had happened. The manor had been compromised.
He had immediately rushed to the nursery only to find it empty, Draco gone. Just past his first birthday and he'd been taken from them. All Narcissa and the elves could remember of the attack was perfect darkness. The oppressive weight had nearly suffocated them and had rendered them unconscious from lack of oxygen.
The only good thing that had come of that nightmare time was the fact the Dark Lord was destroyed soon after on All-Hallow's Eve night. Draco's abduction had consumed Lucius. He'd had no time for Death Eaters or Lords or wars. Day and night, he and Narcissa had searched the entire country for their little boy.
Lucius shook his head, escaping the old memories. Gently, he lay his bleeding, naked wife down on their bed. A quick spell stopped the trickle of blood that still flowed from the many cuts. Another spell cleaned her skin. Then, exhausted, he began to mechanically remove his clothes. Once Lucius was naked, he slid beneath the covers, pulling them over Narcissa, and held her cool body close.
Lucius let his eyes shut, but although he slept, he did not rest. Not in five years had he been able to rest. And when he discovered the identity of the kidnapper... Lucifer, the darkest angel and his name sake, would be impressed by Lucius' vengeance. Had the Dark Lord been alive, even he would cower before Lucius' terrible rage.
...
Harry didn't sleep a wink all night. As soon as the sky outside their small window began to lighten, he slithered from the bed and crept to Liam's room. Liam was on his stomach, his arms and legs spread out, covering nearly all the bed. Harry shook his shoulder gently. His heart beat with mad excitement in his chest.
“Wha's it?” Liam slurred, cracking his blue eyes open.
“You said ta wake you up at dawn. Draco's still sleepin',” Harry whispered loudly.
Liam groaned, but he pushed up and sat. His thick black hair hung tangled around his face, and he pointed to the decorations with one hand while he rubbed his face with the other. “Grab the goods. I'm making coffee.”
Harry grabbed all the bags, hooking three on each arm, and giggled as he dropped them on the living room floor.
“Start blowing up balloons and flinging confetti around,” Liam directed in a whisper. “I'll have to lift you so you can hang the streamers.”
Harry and Liam decorated like mad. They started just after five and weren't satisfied until it was nearly eight. Harry stared around in astonishment. Streamers – blue, red, green, and yellow – twisted and twirled and hung from every corner of the ceiling. They were draped across the windows and from wall to wall in all directions. Confetti glistened and glittered over every surface. Red and blue balloons were taped along the walls wherever Harry thought they'd look nice. The games they'd bought sat on the coffee table, colorful and enticing. Party hats and little horns were ready on the dinning table. Harry had never seen anything so colorful or amazing in his life.
“Go get the birthday boy,” Liam said with an excited grin. He'd had about a pot of coffee by this point, so he was wide awake and nearly as excited as Harry.
Harry gave a soft squeal of delight and ran toward their bedroom.
Draco pretended to be asleep – Honestly, who could sleep with a hyper humming bird zipping through their mind? - until Harry was within reach. Then he lashed out, grabbing Harry by the chest and waist, and dragged him into the bed with him.
Harry gave a laugh as Draco rained quick little kisses across his face. Breathless, flushed, he giggled and squirmed, eyes bright and happy.
Draco grinned down at him. “What have ya been up to?”
“Nothing,” Harry lied terribly, grinning ear-to-ear. “Just, breakfast is ready.”
Laughing under his breath, Draco crawled out of bed and off his boy. “I should get dressed, then.”
Harry could hardly stand still as Draco put on clothes and casually made his way out into the living room. Even he wasn't prepared for what awaited him. His eyes went huge. It was as if a circus had moved in! He noticed the large banner hanging above the couch. It read: Happy Birthday, Draco!, and it was written in Harry's very careful lettering. His throat tightened as his heart melted.
Arms wrapped around him from behind as Harry said joyfully, “Love you, Draco! Happy birthday!”
Draco turned in his embrace and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulders, opening his mouth eagerly to him.
“Alright, you two,” Liam said with a laugh. “Breakfast is getting cold.”
Draco pulled away from Harry reluctantly, lips hot and wet. Walking to the table, Liam slipped a pointed paper hat on Draco's head. Draco let him, attention on the pancake with over-easy eggs for eyes and bacon for a smiling mouth. He looked up, eyebrow raised, only for a camera flash to go off. Liam was laughing his ass off.
Harry clung to Draco's hand, grinning madly. “Wow, Liam, it's so cute! Like it, Draco?” Happy green eyes stared into him.
“It's great. I love it.” Draco gave his boy another hug and kiss. “Thanks, Liam,” he said with a grin and pushed Harry toward his seat. “Come on. Let's eat before all Liam's hard work goes ta waste.”
They joked and laughed as they ate. Liam did funny voices and made up a story about their pancakes who came from a town called Pancake Land. Afterward, Liam refused to let Harry help with the dishes, telling him instead to go play one of the new games with Draco, since it was his birthday and he shouldn't be bored even one minute of it. It was the only argument that would have worked.
Draco allowed all of it with a bemused smile. They played a game called Sorry!, and it made Draco laugh when Harry honestly felt sorry whenever he had to bump Draco's pieces. By that time, Liam was done with the dishes and they got out the Game Called Life.
Liam acted like getting married or a desk job was a death sentence. Draco and Harry had become one team since Harry wanted to do everything the same as Draco anyway. He was much happier when they shared a car and had two blue pieces in the front.
Liam snickered, pointing out, “You're not supposed to start out the game married. That's supposed to happen along the way.”
Draco stuck out his tongue. “I can't help it that I'm better than you at this game already.”
But as they progressed, it was Draco's turn to be horrified when they drew cards and landed on all the spaces for kids: triplets, adoption, a boy and a girl. Soon they couldn't fit all the pegs in the car. Harry sensibly told Liam to put some of their kids in his car since they were all one family anyway. By the end, all three of them were in stitches, tears running down their cheeks from laughing so hard.
After a morning of board games, they went to the park for some baseball, then to the movies, and after ate at a restaurant for dinner. They went home for the cake Harry and Liam had baked that morning, and Harry carried it with the six burning candles very carefully to the table where Draco sat waiting. Liam began singing and soon Harry joined in.
Sitting in the near dark, the candles filling the room with soft light, Draco knew this had been the best day of his life.
“Make a wish, Draco,” Harry encouraged – love joy contentment.
Draco stared into those warm green eyes and answered honestly. “I don't have ta. I already got you.”
Harry went into Draco's waiting arms, tears in his eyes.
“Together?” Draco asked softly as the candles continued to flicker.
Harry nodded. The light reflected off his glasses as they both blew and the little flames went out.
Liam clapped and turned on the lights, his eyes were suspiciously bright.
They had their cake on the couch while watching tv. Harry didn't make it through half of his piece before he fell asleep against Draco's shoulder. Liam laughed under his breath and put Harry's plate on the coffee table before it fell off the boy's lap and tugged the fork free of Harry's hand. Draco handed off his plate once he was done and wrapped his arms more firmly around Harry. He smoothed the wild hair back and slipped the glasses off his face.
“I got something for you,” Liam said, breaking the comfortable silence. He was sitting on the other side of Harry and pulled a wrapped gift from between the cushions.
Draco took it with a soft smile. “Thanks. Ya didn't have'ta. Today's been great.”
Liam shrugged but didn't say anything, blue eyes averted.
Curious, Draco tore the paper, holding the gift behind Harry's back as he still held the slightly smaller boy in his arms. It was a frame. Turning it over, he saw it was the picture they took at the zoo. They were bundled in their scarves and mittens. Liam was crouched down between them, arms around their shoulders. Harry looked shy but happy.
He met Liam's eyes, hoping the man could see how grateful he was, and handed him the picture. “Can we put it up out here?”
“Yeah,” Liam answered, voice thick with emotion. “I'd like that.”
He stood and placed the frame upright next to the tv where they all could see it. Next to the new photo was an older one. It was a picture of Brendon and Liam from four years ago. They were grinning, Brendon's arm flung across Liam's shoulders. They were standing in front of a beat up car they had gone in on together. It was their first car. Liam thought the two photos looked right standing next to each other. He still missed Brendon fiercely, but he was glad to have the boys in his life.
Gently running his hand over the frame of him and his brother, he turned to help Draco get Harry into bed.
...
It was nearing the end of June. Surrey was filled with children who were out of school for the summer. The weather was perfect, blue skies and warm breezes. Arabella was probably the only one unhappy on the street.
She stared out at the house three houses up and across from her own. A chubby six-year-old ran full speed from the house in a quick waddle, his face stretched into a happy grin, his blond hair flopping. A thin woman stood in the doorway waving her boy off to play. Then the door shut. No second boy. With a huff, Arabella turned and ran her hand down Gus's back. The orange Kneazle watched her with large pumpkin eyes.
“I've waited long enough,” she told him. “I know he said to contact him only in emergencies, but this counts in my book! No point in keeping Harry Potter's house a secret if he ain't in it, is there?”
Determined, Arabella went to the fireplace and pulled down the emergency floo powder. Throwing it into the fire that she kept burning all year round, she called out the Headmaster's address. He wasn't in, so she hurried to her desk to write a note before sending it through:
Haven't seen him. All the other boarding kids are back. I have a bad feeling, Albus. Please come. - Arabella
That done, she went back to her knitting where she could still see out her window and waited for a response. It was Minerva who eventually arrived nearing lunch time. The elderly witch wore a white blouse with a high-waisted black skirt and black button-up boots. She looked like Mary Poppins, and it put a smile on Arabella's face.
“Minerva, so glad you came!” she said, standing and offering her hands to the woman.
The stern witch inclined her head, but did not take Arabella's hands. “Albus sent me to check up on the boy.”
Arabella walked her to the door and pointed her to the right house, although she was certain Minerva already knew which one. “Lost sight of the tyke in November. Went over and asked casually after the boy, and they said they put him in boarding school. But all the kids are back and still no sign of him.”
Minerva nodded her head, eyes behind her half-moon glasses surprisingly hard. “I will see what has happened. If I do not like their answers, Harry will be coming with me.”
Arabella watched the woman make her way across the street and was glad it was Minerva who had come. Anyone else might bow to Albus' wishes, but Minerva wouldn't let Harry stay in that house if it were not safe for his heart and mind, that Arabella was certain of.
But there was no little boy to save. A little more than an hour later, Minerva returned flushed and visibly upset. She didn't say two words to Arabella before she was away in the floo. Arabella's heart pounded. She felt sick to her stomach. Her cats hissed and milled restlessly around the room. Before nightfall, Minerva returned with Professors Dumbledore and Snape. The men went immediately across the street while Minerva stayed with her.
“I cannot bare to be among those people,” the woman told her, arms folded squarely across her chest.
“C-can I ask...?” Arabella ventured, desperately worried for the little boy she'd watched from afar for nearly five years.
Minerva looked her in the eye, tears welling in her own. “He is gone. I can only hope he is still alive. Albus went to see if he can find more clues to Harry's where-about's, but I doubt he will discover any more than I did.”
Arabella's hands flew to her mouth in horror.
Minerva pat her shoulder gently. “It is not your fault, my dear. You informed the Headmaster when he disappeared and got information from the family. It is the Headmaster who saw no evil in the message and chose not to follow up. The fault lies with us.”
The sun had set and the street was cast in darkness when Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape returned. Arabella and Minerva were on the couch sipping tea, but the women immediately put them aside. Minerva rose to her feet, but Arabella couldn't seem to find the strength. Albus looked exhausted, but he came and clasped her hands gently.
“My dear Mrs. Figg, thank you for watching so faithfully and contacting me again. You were absolutely right to do so.”
“Can you find him?” she asked in a whisper, staring up into his faded blue eyes.
The elderly wizard bowed his head, his long silvery hair and beard dipping low. “I will do everything in my power to do so.”
For the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore to promise that was no small thing, and it made Arabella feel better. Surely the Headmaster would be able to find Harry. She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
...
For nearly a month, Albus, Minerva, and Severus cast every spell they could think of, performed every ritual Light, Dark, and in between, and all they knew was that Harry was alive and to the west.
“I believe he is in America,” Albus spoke gravely.
He stood at the window to his office, his hands linked behind his back. He wore his favorite lavender robes with silver stars since he needed something to try and boost his spirits. His waist-length hair and beard were left to hang free and unbound. He turned from the night-dark window and looked at his two colleagues. Severus stood in the shadows by the door, while Minerva sat primly in a chair that she had conjured. They both faced him with identical expressions of hope and despair.
“This will need to be handled very delicately,” Minerva said carefully, eyeing him over the frames of her glasses.
That was an understatement. The Magical Congress of North America held seats on the International Confederation of Wizards and participated in international Quidditch, but they were not interested in close ties to any wizarding population that had more than a passing connection to non-magical people.
As of 1790, when North America instated Rappaport's Law, it was strictly forbidden for magical people to come into contact with muggles for longer than was strictly necessary. In fact, it was illegal to wed or even befriend a muggle, and Muggleborns were stolen and fostered by a magical family as soon as they were discovered. The muggle parents were then made to believe their child never existed or spelled to think they were dead, which Britain's Wizengamot and Ministry for Magic saw as criminally and morally wrong.
On one hand, the M.C.N.A. would be highly motivated to find Harry as a magical child in the hands of muggle slavers. Also, they held strong views on Death Eaters and Voldemort. Any wizard who supported the Dark Lord would be met with the death penalty in America for participating in Exposure Events, so Harry would be safe from news getting back to Dark corners.
(According to the M.C.N.A., it was a crime for a wizard to attack/kill a muggle because it increased the possibility of exposure, which was to be avoided at all cost, and carried a death sentence to anyone who was convicted of such an act. In fact, participating in an Exposure Event was the only crime punishable by death. All other crimes resulted in penalties or imprisonment. Voldemort and his followers were marked as enemies due to the Dark Lords frequent raids among the muggle populace.)
But while Albus could be certain involving the magical government of America would keep Harry's situation secret from Death Eaters, it was also true that the M.C.N.A.'s aversion to interacting with muggles could potentially slow their search down by a significant margin. Therefore, Albus would need to unofficially alert the American government, somehow without alerting the Ministry of Magic or the British media. Whoever was chosen to lead the search for Harry would also have to carefully maneuver so they would have some independence from M.C.N.A's regulations during the search so that they could verge into muggle areas if necessary. To conclude, the person who Albus chose would need to be direct but also diplomatic.
He gave Minerva a thoughtful look. She sat tall and strong, her hair in her customary bun, her eyes sharp behind her glasses. She was powerful and diplomatic, and he trusted her implicitly, but if she went missing from her post at Hogwarts, it would arouse suspicions. Severus' absence would also be marked, also he was too connected to the Death Eaters to be accepted into America. So it would have to be …
“You cannot be serious,” the Potion Master said lowly, dark eyes glinting.
“It is the only choice, my boy,” Albus answered firmly. “You will find Remus Lupin, Severus. He has all the required skills, as well the loyalty we need.”
“His condition...” Severus hissed furiously.
“Is tolerated much more in America than here,” Albus cut him off. “As long as Remus turns himself in to a containment station on the night of the full moon, he will be treated as a normal citizen and without fear.”
“Why me?” As Severus stepped into the light, Albus could see clearly the look of hatred on the man's face.
“You are better skilled in finding those who do not wish to be found,” he said gently, tipping his head down and looking at the dark-haired wizard over his glasses. “It is for Harry, Severus.”
Severus snarled and spun, his robes flaring around him as he stormed from the room.
“Are you certain, Albus?” Minerva asked quietly, rising to her feet with a look of concern.
He turned from her, pained by her doubt, although it was deserved, and looked out over the night-shrouded grounds. “As certain as I can be.”
…
Draco tip-toed over to the bed. Harry was curled up on his side, hands gently curled by his slightly parted mouth. His messy hair fell over his forehead and fanned out across the pillow. Smiling, Draco bent down and slowly, traced those pink lips with his tongue.
When Harry moaned in his sleep and rolled onto his back, Draco breathed warmly over the boy's exposed neck before gently sucking the soft skin into his mouth. Sleepy green eyes flickered open, but Harry made no move to escape. He lay limp and relaxed, even as Draco applied more pressure. With another moan, Harry's thighs instinctively opened - Draco could hear the slide of Harry's skin against the sheets.
- love pleasure desire -
Bitting into Harry's skin, Draco left a bruise but was careful not to draw blood. He grinned down at him. “Time ta wake up,” he sing-songed.
Harry smiled and rolled onto his side before pushing up. Draco giggled. Harry's hair stood nearly on end in some places and was crushed flat in others. It was the cutest thing he ever saw.
In only a few minutes, Draco got Harry dressed and took him by the hand, leading him into the living room. Harry froze at the end of the hall, staring with wide eyes. Balloons filled the room, hundreds of them. They floated along the ceiling and bunched up along the floor. White and green and blue and yellow and pink and purple and red, every color nearly creating wall that filled the room. Harry could just make out parts of Liam in the kitchen. He was grinning like a loon, his hair up in a high ponytail. Harry could smell the pancakes and bacon frying on the stove.
“Wha...” Harry gasped and melted into Draco's arms as the blond hugged him from behind.
“It's your birthday, silly,” Draco whispered in his ear, playfully nipping his earlobe. “July 31^st, remember?”
“Happy Birthday, Harry!” Liam called cheerfully in the background. “Breakfast is coming right up.”
Harry gasped again. He couldn't comprehend it. Turning from the vibrant scene, he pushed his head into Draco's chest and clung to the blond – shock fear.
Draco held him close and ran a hand through Harry's hair soothingly. He towed Harry to the dinning table and sat him on a chair. Then he crouched and looked up at the boy, his hands pressing firmly into Harry's thighs. The boy blinked at him tearfully from behind his glasses, his lower lip trembling.
“You're okay, Harry. I've got you,” he said softly, smiling. “And I'm so excited for your party, just like ya were for mine. Birthdays make everyone happy, yeah?”
Harry blinked again, his heart slowing down. Draco's hands anchored him; the unwavering grey eyes made him feel safe. He could focus. Happy, Draco was happy. Birthdays were for everyone to be happy. His birthday made Draco and Liam happy, so it was okay. He wasn't being bad.
Draco smiled and stood. Cupping Harry's face in his hands, he bent and kissed him deeply. * Good boy. That's it. Relax. I'm happy. It's your birthday and that's a good day. *
Liam cleared his throat as he set breakfast on the table, but Draco continued to press his tongue firmly into Harry's mouth, letting the smaller boy suck on it. When their mouths parted, it was with a soft smack.
Draco smiled ruefully. He hadn't realized his hands had moved into Harry's hair. It now stuck up everywhere again. Smoothing it down, he turned Harry toward the table and took the seat next to him. Liam was fiddling with his napkin, purposefully averting his eyes. Draco playfully kicked his shin and grinned unrepentantly when Liam looked up.
“Thanks. Looks good,” he said, gesturing with a fork at his smiling pancake.
“Thank you, Liam!” Harry gushed, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. He was smiling again.
Draco sat back smug with his success at managing Harry. He watched with pure affection as Harry and Liam struck up a conversation about the adventure of getting all the balloons in the house without Harry's knowledge. Harry stared in admiration at Draco when Liam explained that Draco had planned the whole thing.
Draco leaned over to kiss his nose. “Eat,” he reminded.
Once breakfast was done, Draco gave Harry the okay and the boy tentatively moved into the living room among all the balloons. Draco laughed and plowed right in, sending balloons flying. Harry squealed in delight and was soon crashing around the living room making balloons go everywhere. Liam joined them and tackled the boys onto the couch, trying to bury them under the colorful flood.
Soon they were all laughing and giggling. Liam showed Draco how rubbing a balloon on someone's hair made it stand on end. He did this by demonstrating it on the blond of course, and before he knew it, Harry and Draco were tackling him and rubbing balloons against his head.
It had become a birthday tradition. Birthday breakfast and time together, followed by a day out in the city, to come home for cake after dinner.
Liam turned the lights off and lit the candles. This time it was Draco who got to carry the cake with six dancing flames. Harry stared enraptured into Draco's gleaming grey eyes. In the background, he could hear Liam begin to sing.
“Make a wish, Harry,” Draco said lowly, never once looking away.
Harry swallowed hard. His throat so tight with emotion he couldn't speak. He remembered being Freak in the closet. The hunger and thirst, the pain of being filthy, and the agony of being unwanted. He'd been horrible and wretched. Now he was a person, with a name, and a birthday, and a Liam. He only had these things because he had a Draco. Draco was everything to him.
I want to be useful to him. I want to make him happy and keep him safe, Harry prayed with everything that was in him and blew. I love him so much, please let me be good.
Draco and Liam cheered, but Harry began to cry. He didn't deserve Draco. He really didn't. And he was never going to be good enough. Not in a million years.
Then Draco was there. He gripped Harry's chin firmly with one hand and pinched the back of his arm with the other. The sharp pain made Harry's heart slow, even if his emotions still churned. He stared into Draco's eyes desperately.
“Wanna be good for you,” he whispered fiercely, the fear of never being good enough thick in his voice.
Draco pinched him again, this time on his side over his ribs. His other hand never wavered on Harry's chin, holding it up and forcing him to look into Draco's eyes. “Trust me,” he said gently and then spoke into Harry's mind. * I'll tell you when you do wrong. Let the worry go. We are one and the same. You gave me every part of you, and now you're mine. All you gotta do is trust me, Harry. That's the only thing you need to do. The rest is all me. Can you trust me, Harry? *
Draco pinched him again, this time in the armpit. It hurt, sharp and deep, and Harry knew he was saved. He let the worry disappear with the sting. Draco was here and Harry was Draco's, so it was all okay. He was safe and good, because Draco had him. Draco would take care of Harry, so Harry didn't have to worry. He just had to focus on Draco, what Draco wanted and needed, and Harry would be good.
“I trust you,” he breathed, pained tears streaking his face but feeling peaceful once more.
Draco released him and stepped back.
Calm, centered, Harry blinked and smiled, every place Draco had pinched throbbed hotly with blood. It anchored him. He saw that Liam looked upset, and Harry turned trustingly to Draco, knowing he'd fix it.
Draco bumped Liam's shoulder, saying, “Guess we don't need'ta cut pieces, huh?” And he grabbed a handful of cake and smeared it across Liam's face.
Harry laughed and grabbed a handful of cake and icing, throwing it at Draco. Draco turned and tried to catch it in his mouth, but it mostly hit his cheek. Liam couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, and then it was an all out food fight.
Chapter end.
A/N: I hope you liked the glimpses into the magical world.
Thank you so much, Dymon, for staying with the story! You were the only one to leave a comment last chapter. So thanks again!
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Freedom Bound in Chains