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Honour Bound	By : Draeconin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 42041 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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-Chapter 1
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 1
- 2
- 3
Honour Bound

by Draeconin

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details.

Chapter Two

That night after the Sorting Feast for the new First Years, Draco managed to get Harry alone without anyone seeing.
The blond pushed Harry up against a wall, holding him there and trying to look dangerous. "I can't think of a bloody thing that might make my father's debt to you of use, Potter," the blond hissed.
Almost immediately, Draco realised that pushing the slightly taller, green-eyed Gryffindor up against the wall had been a mistake. The heat from the body contact, the flash in those brilliantly green eyes as they looked down into his, and the flush on Potter's cheeks, was making his cock respond.
"I might," Harry said impatiently, throwing the other boy off, "have an idea, but I have to find out exactly what can and cannot be required of a life debt. Hermione's going to research it, starting tomorrow."
"You told her?" Draco asked, in an angry panic.
"No," the Gryffindor bit out. "All she knows is that your father owes me a life debt, and I need to require payment of it by the weekend."
The blond hid his relief that his problems weren't being made fodder for public consumption, commenting instead on Potter's ignorance. "He made you agree to that?" Draco asked, with a sneering smirk. "By right, you could have held it over him the rest of his life!"
"I almost forgot that I could call life debt on him at all!" Harry hissed. "And if I had, you'd be in a fine mess, wouldn't you? As is, you have a chance. Don't make me forget to give it you!"
Draco paled, then rallied. "When you have some solid information, Potter, let me know. Until then..." He left the sentence unfinished, but his look said Harry was only slightly better than dirt, before he turned and stalked off. He couldn't help the way his body responded to the Gryffindor, but he could make sure Potter never knew how he effected him.
Harry was seething. If there were any way to make the blond regret his attitudes...

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
Two days later, Hermione sent Ron to fetch Harry to the library.
"I think I've found everything that's allowed under a life debt," she told Harry, when they were all together. "You are allowed to require up to one-half of his lands and wealth, or you can require that he perform any service that is not likely to end in death or serious injury either for him or anyone else. A task can be required to be performed once, or repetitively, in perpetuity; but as he's a lord, you cannot require he become a bond slave," she rattled off. But she was refusing to look at him.
"And?" Harry asked.
"'And' what?" Hermione said, looking up at him, and trying to bluff.
"Half his lands and wealth, Harry!" Ron gloated gleefully. "You could break his power!"
"You're hiding something, 'Mione," Harry accused calmly, ignoring the redhead. "You've never been very good at lying. Not to us, anyway."
"As if you're any better!" she retorted, flustered. She sat there and fumed, while Harry just looked at her, waiting. "Oh - fine!" an exasperated Hermione finally exclaimed. "Although he's exempt, you may demand a substitute!"
A slight frown graced Harry's brow. "Is there anything short of a binding - a bond slave - that I could request?" he asked.
"What are you thinking of, Harry? Take the bastard's wealth!" the excitable redhead exhorted. Still, he was ignored.
Hermione frowned, suspicious. "Why?" she asked, in response to Harry's question.
"Never mind, 'why'. Is there?" the dark-haired Gryffindor inquired.
"Not that I can find, no," she admitted. "Harry, what -"
"I have to speak to Dumbledore," Harry said suddenly, getting up and almost running out of the room, Hermione staring after him, and drawing a glare from Madam Pince.
Ron threw up his hands, baffled and frustrated.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
"...and that's the whole story, Professor," Harry said. "What do I do? I don't want a bond slave, but not even Draco Malfoy deserves that happening to him!"
"I'm afraid, Harry, that wizarding law doesn't often provide for half measures, and none in instances of life debt," Professor Dumbledore said, ruefully. "Until Draco's majority, he is subject to his father's whim; like property. And since there is no proof of this plan, beyond third- or fourth-hand information, I'm afraid I haven't the means to help him, either. You have a choice to make; either leave young Mr. Malfoy to his fate, or..."
Harry sighed. "Or demand he be given me as a bond slave," he said miserably, finishing the sentence.
"I'm afraid so, my boy," the headmaster responded, in a commiserating manner. Inwardly, he was anything but sorry about this turn of events. Not only would it remove a potential Death Eater - Draco - from the playing field, but it could conceivably compromise how the elder Malfoy performed. Since Lord Malfoy was high in the ranks of Voldemort's forces, if his performance was compromised, then much of Voldemort's forces might be, as well. Yes, this might just work out very well, indeed. And if the only effect was to remove the younger Malfoy from the fighting forces, that was all right, too. As Harry's bond slave, Draco would help keep him safe until he was needed.
Harry nodded, feeling trapped. He didn't truly have a choice, then. In a choice between two evils, he'd choose the lesser. "Would you mind setting up the meeting with Lord Malfoy for me, sir?"
"Appointing a go-between is in the best wizarding tradition, Mr. Potter," the headmaster said, approvingly. " Yes, I'll set up that meeting, and be there. I can't say I'm happy with this turn of events, but hopefully it will turn out for the best. We'll use one of the meeting rooms here. In the meantime, you might wish to study the binding spell. You'll need to perform a part of it. It would be wise to be familiar with the whole of it, however."
Harry nodded. He hadn't meant it to be a formal thing when he asked the headmaster the favour; he just didn't feel up to facing the elder Malfoy. Not when he was going to be demanding the man hand over his son for enslavement. "Thank you, sir," he said, and headed back to the library. The gods must be laughing, he mused, bitterly. He'd wanted a way to get revenge for the blond's attitude, but he'd never intended it to be permanent - and not only would this would be permanent, he wouldn't be unaffected, either!
If Harry had ever heard of karma, he'd have blamed the situation on it.
When he got there, his friends were gone - probably off for a snog, Harry thought. But the books Hermione had been perusing were still on the table, awaiting Madam Pince to spell them back to their places on the shelves. Harry sat down, quickly found the spell he needed to know, and set himself the task of memorising it. While he was at it, he perused the collateral rules and effects surrounding it, as well.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
Since Harry had specified the weekend following when the life debt had been incurred, Lucius Malfoy insisted he had no time until the Saturday for their meeting. He would be bringing his solicitor, and sneeringly suggested that, "if that brat has half as many brains as he does luck, he'll do the same."
When the Gryffindor asked the headmaster about the need for solicitors, he was told "If the discharge of the debt requires the exchange of money or property, it will be needed to ascertain that the amount requested is fair and proper, and that a fair exchange be made. They then file the exchange with Gringott's or the proper authorities. Services don't need legal oversight, but you, Harry, are going to invoke something that hasn't been done for over a hundred years, although Lord Malfoy isn't yet aware of that fact."
"If it hasn't been done in that long, can it still be done?" Harry asked.
"Oh, yes," the professor assured him. "Custom isn't easily done away with in the wizarding world, Harry. And the older families, such as the Malfoys, live their lives based upon it."
"Still, it's a rotten thing we're - I'm - about to do to Draco," Harry mourned.
"'Draco', is it?" the headmaster asked, eyes twinkling.
Harry blushed. "Still can't stand his ruddy attitude," he growled, defending himself.
The twinkle faded. "Language, Harry. And the slave bond will take care of the attitude," Dumbledore replied, soberly.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"The magic will...change...the way he thinks."
Harry's harsh, barking laughter caused the headmaster to look at his young charge with not a little concern. Seeing this, Harry explained. "I've always said the only thing wrong with Malfoy was a much-needed attitude adjustment," he said, with heavy irony. Then with determination, he said "No. I can't do it. I can't be a party to thrashing even his personality like that!"
"I'm not sure you understand, Harry; the change is only towards you. As his...master, he cannot be allowed to be a danger to you."
"So he can still be a danger to anyone else?" Harry asked, bitterly.
Dumbledore nodded. "He must be able to protect you, should the need arise," he explained.
The Gryffindor was still shaking his head. "I can't do that to him. It would break him - break his pride," he said. "It's beautiful, that pride; like a fierce hawk in flight," he added, absently.
Albus eyed the young man before him a little more keenly. 'So that's the way of it, is it?' he thought. Aloud, he said "That's your choice, Harry."
The headmaster's stressing of 'choice' reminded Harry of Draco's other fate. He leapt to his feet, and exploded. "Merlin's hairy bollocks!" he swore. "May the gods damn Voldemort, you, Lucius Malfoy, and everyone else who plays with people's lives! Damn you all!"
"Then what should I tell Lord Malfoy?" the headmaster asked calmly, ignoring the young man's outburst, but grateful the lad had managed to control his magic. He didn't fancy his office being destroyed yet again.
"Not a damned thing!" Harry snarled. "Draco belongs to me!" Harry turned, and rapidly swept out of the headmaster's office with unconscious grace.
Dumbledore smiled to himself. While he abhorred Harry's use of language, he was satisfied with the progression of events. The young Malfoy would now be one less Death Eater facing them, when the time came. But Harry's attraction to the boy... He would have to keep an eye on that. It had the potential to work either for or against him.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
Harry leaned against the wall outside Draco's last class of the day, Arithmancy, and waited for the blond to exit. When he did, he nodded, trying to indicate that he had an answer. When the Slytherin ignored him and continued walking, he caught the boy up and took hold of his arm. "Malfoy! We need to talk!" he hissed, in as quiet a tone as he could manage. He was not looking forward to this conversation, but he couldn't bring himself to just enslave the blond without giving him a choice.
"Unhand me, Potter!" the Slytherin said loudly, then quietly said "Library. The dark corner. Fifteen minutes." At which point he made a show of shaking off Harry's hand, and stalking off.
Half an hour later, Harry was cursing himself for a fool. Malfoy still hadn't shown up. He got up and was heading for the door when the blond walked in. Harry glared at him, then turned around and returned to the corner. A couple of minutes later, Draco silently joined him.
"So nice of you to join me, Malfoy," Harry growled. "After all, it's not for my benefit, is it?"
Draco looked at him coolly. "I had trouble ditching the dumb duo," he replied, quietly. "My 'father' has probably set them on me to make sure I don't run."
'Jailors, as opposed to being your bully boys?' Harry thought. 'How ironic.' "Well, you're not likely to appreciate my news, either," the Gryffindor said, tightly.
"Which is?" the blond asked, cautiously.
"There's only one way I can use your father's life debt to me, to save you," Harry said, and paused, reluctant to continue.
"If it will free me from that creature's clutches, I'm all for it!" Draco whispered, tensely.
"I said it would save you, Malfoy. But the price is high. Maybe too high," Harry replied, cryptically.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "How high?"
Harry took a deep breath. "I can claim you as a bond slave," he finally revealed. He was ready to duck fists, spells, or suffer verbal abuse. What he got, was silence.
Finally, Draco said "What?" in a quiet, shocked voice.
"I'm sorry, but even Dumbledore couldn't find anything I could do that was less than that," Harry said. "Would you be willing to talk to the headmaster? Maybe if you told him yourself, he could find another way?"
Draco shook his head. "He's an Earl, Potter," he said, referring to his father. "That takes precedence over wizarding law where I'm concerned, unless he were actively abusing me. And he's avoided doing anything that would allow me to prove that." He heaved a sigh. "You give me a wonderful choice, Potter; Voldemort's whore, or slavery."
There was now no emotion in the voice, and Harry was getting worried. He noticed that Draco hadn't said that he hadn't been abused - just that he couldn't prove it. "I did say the price may be too high," Harry reminded the blond.
"How long before I have to decide?" Draco asked.
"Your father has set the meeting for the Saturday morning, at nine."
Draco nodded, got up, and walked out, leaving a concerned Harry Potter sitting there. And feeling concern for Draco Malfoy wasn't a common sensation for the Gryffindor.
The evening dragged on, and the night seemed interminable, since Harry found it hard to sleep, and kept waking. The next day, Friday, was no better. He couldn't concentrate in his classes for wondering and worrying if Draco were going to be okay, or do something stupid; especially since the blond didn't show for either breakfast or dinner. It might have been better if they had any shared classes that day, and he'd been able to see whether or not Malfoy was all right. But they didn't, and he couldn't. Finally, Harry saw a very drawn, almost haggard Draco Malfoy at supper. The blond met his eyes only once, and nodded. Harry didn't know whether to be relieved, or...he didn't know what. His emotions were all awhirl.
Saturday finally came, and a very edgy Harry sat in the conference room with Professor Dumbledore and one of the solicitors from the firm that had handled his parents' affairs, and had helped him take over the reins of the Black estates and other holdings.
Mr. Schönjing was, in fact, a senior partner in the firm, and had been thoroughly briefed about the events leading up to the life debt, and Harry's plans for its discharge. Although it hadn't been necessary, Harry had also informed the goblin of the reasons for it, which had eased the solicitor's unvoiced misgivings over such an action. He had asked a few questions, and ascertained from the answers that the law had no solid basis for taking the young Malfoy into protective custody. If they proceeded anyway, and lost the case, his firm could go bankrupt from the resulting lawsuits. His client's plan of action was the only way; not that he would have had any say, even if there had been another option available. The client made all the decisions. But custom demanded full restitution. Law could enforce it. He had all the necessary papers to ensure a smooth transition, and would file them with the Ministry afterward.
When Lucius Malfoy finally swept into the room, a full twenty minutes late, he strode to the best unoccupied chair in the room, and elegantly deposited himself there without so much as a 'by your leave', leaving his solicitor to fend for himself. Nor did he bother with niceties or preliminaries. "Well, Potter?" he spat. "What would you?"
Harry's case of nerves was gone. Malfoy attitude always had the effect of making him angry. But he controlled it, and went for the jugular. "I require a bond slave," he stated, coldly.
Lucius' eyebrows raised a fraction - the only sign that he'd been taken entirely by surprise. He'd expected to haggle over money or land. But... "I am a Lord, Potter; I am exempt," he sneered, in return.
"I am aware of that. But a substitute can be required," Harry said, smiling. It wasn't a nice smile, at all. "I have done my research."
"And just whom, exactly, did you have in mind?" the man demanded, haughtily. "I have no subjects." Unlike earlier ages, wizard aristocracy now had few to no subjects under them, although they still wielded considerable political power.
Harry's 'smile' broadened considerably. He wasn't thinking now of Draco, but only of humbling the bastard before him. "Your son; Draco," he said, flatly.
"No." It wasn't a protest. It was a denial. He had come prepared to deal with anything but this, and there were plans in place for his poufter son.
"I am afraid, Lord Malfoy, that you cannot refuse," Schönjing said, stepping into the conversation. "Custom, tradition, and law are all quite clear on that point."
"Patterson!" the blond snapped, calling upon his solicitor. "What are my options?"
Trembling, the man replied. "I'm afraid, milord, that Mr. Schönjing is quite correct. The custom hasn't been called upon for, I believe, about a hundred years, but..."
Malfoy irritatedly waved him to silence, and just looked at the gathering, thinking. Finally, he gave a short, sharp nod.
'As if he really had a choice,' Harry thought, snidely.
"I expect you have all the necessary forms and documents?" the lord said, insinuating with his tone of voice that he thought nobody connected with Potter could possibly be so efficient or prepared. When the papers were produced and placed in front of him, he merely handed them to his solicitor. "Patterson," he said, in a commanding tone.
The silence that ensued as Malfoy's solicitor pored over the unsigned documents was quite tense. The only ones who seemed even slightly at ease were the headmaster, and Malfoy himself. A little less than an hour later, Malfoy's solicitor looked up. "These all seem to be in order, milord," he said. "Most of them are form documents, anyway. Would you care to peruse them yourself?"
The lord would. Since he was looking only for content, and not legal context or loopholes (that's what solicitors were for, after all), it only took him about twenty minutes to read them through, after which he called for quill and ink. But, true to form, he had everyone else - Harry, solicitors, and Dumbledore as the witness - sign first, after which he took his time, examining the signatures already affixed as though he expected them to be be-spelled or forgeries - in other words, being as insulting as he could possibly be. He looked up only once, giving Harry a sharp look when he saw how the Gryffindor had signed his name. Finally, however, he signed all the necessary documents with his name, title, and honours.
Now Professor Dumbledore spoke up. "Harry, would you please inform the messenger waiting in my office that he may fetch young Mr. Malfoy, now?"
Although he'd been dreading this whole day, this was the part Harry had been dreading most.

o~~~*~~~o
Draco had settled into a fatalistic attitude, and was numbly awaiting the summons that would end his freedom. Still, he felt surprise when a second-year Hufflepuff (on this duty for trying to cheat on a Charms test) showed up at the door to the Slytherin common room, and tremulously informed him that the headmaster required his presence in his office. It was time. He hoped he wouldn't disgrace himself when he was face-to-face with it.
Back in the conference room, Lucius Malfoy looked at Harry and, gaining his attention, said "Myrddin¹?" derision quite evident in his voice.
"Direct descendent," Harry said, briefly. At the man's quite openly skeptical expression, he took refuge in indignation and anger, saying "You needn't believe me. You can find out the same way I did. It's all in the records at the Ministry."
"So you changed your name? Had to brag about it, did you, Potter?" the elder Malfoy sneered.
"Not that it's any of your concern, but the Dursleys changed my name. I changed it back," the Gryffindor informed him.
"I suppose you can back up the title as well?"
"Of course," Harry said, coldly. "That, also, is on record at the Ministry."
For once, Dumbledore was adrift. "Harry?" he said, requesting information.
Harry turned to the headmaster. "Along with inheriting Sirius' properties and monies, inspecting my new holdings, and learning to ride horseback, I spent some time in the Ministry records vaults researching my family," he informed the old man. He ignored Lord Malfoy's "My, you have been the busy little boy!" and continued with his explanation. "Not having had a proper family, I wished to know my ancestry. At the same time, I found that the name I'd been using for years was incorrect. Were you aware of that?" he asked, sharply.
With a gentle nod of his head, Albus indicated that he had been aware of that. "It was a name you were used to, and you were so proud that it was your father's name, that I decided to let it go. It did no harm," he explained.
"I'm still proud of my parents, but I'd rather honour them by using the name they gave me," Harry stated.
The headmaster felt a mild up-welling of pride. "And there's a title?" he inquired.
Harry nodded. "It was granted to a distant ancestor, but only fell out of use a few generations ago; probably to avoid notice by Grindlewald or his predecessor. However, it is an inherited title, and mine by right."
"Which is?" Albus prompted.
"Marquis of Greenford²," the raven-haired young man revealed, shrugging.
"The Marquis of Greenford, Lord Harald Myrddin Potter," Dumbledore mused. "It has a nice rhythm to it," he opined. Facing the blond aristocrat, he said "You are an Earl, are you not, Lord Malfoy?"
"Yes," the man snarled.
The headmaster smiled. "Then Harry outranks you?" Lucius Malfoy had been a thorn in his side on several occasions. Albus was enjoying this mild revenge.
Lucius refused to answer, only glaring at the man for pointing it up. His only consolation in this was that his son would not be bound to a commoner.
A few seconds later, the Hufflepuff messenger knocked on the door. Upon the headmaster's "Enter!," he stuck his head in the door. "Draco Malfoy is here, sir," he said.
"Tell him to enter, Mr. Jameson," Dumbledore instructed, drawing his wand from his sleeve, "and then you may have the rest of the day to yourself."
A plan of action had already been mutually decided upon. Upon Draco's entrance, the headmaster would cast the initial part of the binding spell, which would prevent the young Slytherin from being able to resist the rest of it. Lucius Malfoy would cast his part, which would sever all ties he had to his son, and transfer them to Harry. Then Harry would finish the spell, binding Draco to him for life.
All went according to plan. As Draco entered the room, Professor Dumbledore's quickly-incanted spell shot from his wand in a wave of blue and green light, striking the blond squarely in the chest. The initial shock as the first portion of the spell hit him caused Draco to fall to his knees. As his father began the second part of the spell, Draco wondered if he might have made the wrong decision. But it was too late to change his mind. He felt the net of energy about him changing, and as it re-stabilised, he felt strangely lighter, as though a weight had somehow been removed from his shoulders. And then resignation set in, as Harry took up his portion of the spell. He felt Harry throughout him; in his mind, his spirit. He felt totally permeated with the essence of Harry Potter. The effect diminished as the spell came to a close, but did not end. He was now thoroughly attached to the Gryffindor. He could feel, on a slightly distanced level, Harry's emotions and needs. He could feel the Gryffindor's mixed emotions about what was happening. It surprised him that there was so much compassion aimed at him. When it was all done, the young blond remained where he had fallen, on his knees. His brain felt as though coruscating trails of painless fire were running through it; everywhere, all at once. And then a strange peace fell over him.
Harry walked up to the boy, and quietly said "I told you I would save you, if I could. This was the only way. I'm sorry."
Draco looked up at him, a tear in his eye, and said "Thank you, Potter," totally shocking the Gryffindor. Harry was aware, on some level, of the turmoil of emotions in the blond's mind, but the predominant ones at the moment were trepidation, gratitude, and sorrow.
"His name?" Schönjing asked. At Harry's look of inquiry, he expanded on his question. "For the records. What name do you give him?"
Oh. Yes. He remembered reading that. "'Draco' is fine. I don't want to have to learn a different name for him, and he'll have enough to adjust to, himself."
Lord Malfoy gathered his cloak and cane, then headed for the door. "Life debts must be paid," Lucius said coldly to his son as he walked past, in explanation of what had just been done to him. Then he turned to Harry, gave a barely perceptible bow in recognition of his rank, said "Marquis," and swept out the door.
Harry didn't know a lot about aristocratic protocol, but he knew enough to know that the elder Malfoy had again shown his contempt for him.
Lucius smiled to himself as he departed. His master wouldn't be pleased. In fact, he would probably punish him. But whether Potter knew it or not - and he'd go to pains to make sure the bloody 'Boy Who Lived' never found out - he'd done him a service. It wasn't an ideal solution, but he hadn't been pleased with the thought of his son being used by the Dark Lord. Loyalty can only be pushed so far. Fear had been the deciding factor. He'd be punished for allowing custom and tradition to rob his master of his desires, but he'd likely not be killed, as he would have been had he simply denied Voldemort's demand.
Harry had helped Draco off the floor and into a chair, where the headmaster had pointed out the new marks on Draco's body. There was a crowned phoenix in flight lined out in light red, gold, and green on the right side of Draco's neck, and another, fully detailed, on the inside of his left forearm. The crown was red, the head, neck and legs gold, and the body and wings green. Harry's emblem; Draco's slave marks. The blond was now property, albeit property with a few rights.
Professor Dumbledore called a house elf and gave him a few orders in a low voice. A low, padded cot would be placed by Harry's bed, but because of the need for another wardrobe, causing a lack of space, it would be only inches away. With five boys in the room before, it had been cozy; but now... The Slytherin's trunk and belongings were to be transferred there, as well. As a bond slave, Draco had to be near to serve his master, and the dungeons were much too far away. The headmaster had made plans for this eventuality, but hadn't wanted to put them into action unless it actually came to pass. Six boys in one small tower room, along with the accompanying furnishings and Draco's personal belongings, were too many; and all the rooms in the tower were occupied or otherwise in use. However, this would have to do until a more suitable arrangement could be made. It would look as though he were coddling Harry, but it couldn't be helped. Even in the days when bond slaves were common, they were owned by adults, not pupils. Harry's situation was unique.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o

1: Myrddin (pronunciation is close to meer-thin [soft 'th']) - the original form of the name 'Merlin.'

2: Pronounced 'markee of grehnferd'. Modern British usage is 'Marquess', but I'm going on the premise that wizard society is predominantly, though quite eclectically, early to pre-Victorian in flavour.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
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Honour Bound