Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

An Unwanted Son	By : HalvarTork Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3630 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not hold any rights to Harry Potter, the character, or story line. That right belongs to his creator J.K. Rowling. No profit is made from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Draco stumbled from the fireplace, coughing behind his veil as Gretel reached out a freckled hand to steady the young boy. Several of the Gringotts goblins looked up, glowering at the odd trio as they milled before the public floo waiting for Draco to get his bearings. “So where do you want to go first dear? There is so much to see. I am sure you are positively bubbling with excitement. Oh, and I have coins from Master Belchrot and instructions to get you introductory magic theory books so don't let me go running off and forgetting, mind you. I also have a wee bit of shopping to do myself and will have to leave you to old somber sides over there,” she said, indicating Mikhail. Mikhail glowered at the flighty red head.

“I think we should go to Flourish and Blotts first. That way we can get our assigned tasks out of the way and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. I wanted to pick up some Latin texts while we are there as well, so it seems a good place to start.” Mikhail gave a grim nod before herding Gretel out of the bank behind Draco. The exuberant woman seemed to do all things in fits and starts. It was a short walk to the bookstore made challenging due the bustle of bodies all crowding into the narrow street, likely preparing for the coming holiday season just a month or more away. Snow had fallen at some point in the last few days and crunched underfoot. Draco shivered under his cloak and was relieved at the blast of warmth that greeted him upon entering the bookstore. “Let’s get those magic texts then you can wander off and find your other things,” Gretel said, forcefully slipping her arm through Draco’s and dragging him in the direction of a sign cheerfully proclaiming the location of books on magical theory.

Several slim volumes were selected from a shelf marked for beginning magic users and handed off to Gretel to pay for. “I am going to head off and collect the things I needed to get for the house and do some personal shopping. You stay close to Mikhail and after we can get ice cream at Florean Fortescue’s. I will head there in about an hour so you make sure to meet me.” The red headed bubbled over with excitement as she headed to the register. Draco watched Gretel bounce away in amusement before losing himself among the stacks. It wasn’t long before he found himself lost among the dusty books far in the back of the shop. Draco smiled happily and began digging through the shelves of untranslated histories. There were books in Greek, Latin, and a dozen magical languages Draco knew not a word. It was Christmas come early and Draco picked out a number of dusty volumes in Latin he could use to practice his translation skills. Mikhail waited for him near the entrance as Draco came back into the main store and made his way to the register.

A gray haired witch in a faded floral print robe rang him up clucking happily at the selections, “These are very serious books for one who looks so young. Are you shopping for a friend or parent?” Draco blinked owlishly at the clerk, “No Ma’am I enjoy histories. I am fluent in Latin and enjoy doing translations to keep my skills sharp.” The woman nodded thoughtfully as she wrapped the books Draco had selected in thick brown paper. On top of the short pile she slipped a copy of a new monster mystery novel that had been popular among young wizards. The cover had an animated werewolf changing shape as the moon moved from behind some clouds. “I’m slipping this in as a gift. Try to take a break and enjoy something a little less serious on occasion.” Draco smiled broadly behind his veil and nodded enthusiastically at the woman’s gesture. He would never have allowed himself to purchase something so frivolous, but the moving image was exciting. Draco felt a small stab of guilt as he collected the package and turned to leave. Mikhail moved in to flank Draco taking the packaged books and tucking them in the satchel he carried.

Draco stepped back into the street smiling gleefully at the bustle of the passing witches and wizards. Snow had started falling softly while he was in the bookstore and Draco turned his face up to watch it, catching several wayward flakes in his long eyelashes. Draco giggled in delight and spun in a quick circle, throwing his arms wide. A group of older witches smiled at the child's joy. “Mikhail why do you do this?” Draco stopped to stare at the bulky bodyguard with curiosity. Mikhail blinked several times at Draco’s question before shrugging one muscled shoulder waiting patiently for the boy to decide where he wanted to go next. Draco shook his head bending down to scoop up a handful of snow from the sidewalk and flung it a Mikhail catching him in the face and shoulder. The dour man huffed irritably and shook the snow from his cloak and hair. Draco realizing he would not get a reaction from his new companion made off in the direction of Rosa Lee Teabag in hopes of getting some good breakfast tea to take back to school with him.

Harry shouldered his way through the crowds, cursing himself for not thinking ahead and planning for such crowds. He hated the press of bodies making him very aware of how vulnerable he was. Few people recognized the one time savior with his hair grown long and shaggy and dressed in muggle garb, which was a relief to the reclusive man. The door to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary was a few feet ahead and Harry pushed rudely through the crowd to get to the door. Once inside, the smell of potion ingredients and dried herbs soothed his fraying temper. An elderly wizard, hunched and balding, came around the counter to greet Harry, “Good day, Sir, how can we help you today? Just general perusal or have you come for something special?” Harry patted down his pockets and extracted a crumpled sheet of notebook paper he had scribbled a list on before leaving his flat. He made a poor attempt to smooth it out across one pant leg before handing it over the the elderly apothecary. The apothecary took the page between two fingers looking it over with disdain before bustling into the back room of the shop to collect the requested ingredients. He returned some time later with an arm full of bundles, jars, and pouches of various substances, waving Harry over to examine each item for quality. “Just wrap it all up, I am sure it will be fine,” Harry instructed distractedly. The man glowered and bagged the items while Harry dumped a handful of galleons on the countertop. Harry snatched up his purchase and slipped back into the street without further word to the flustered shopkeeper.

Harry dodged bodies as he made his way toward the public owlery. After Hedwig had been killed Harry had not felt the inclination to keep his own owl; he instead relied on the public owlery for sending missives. A few coins and a note changed hands quickly at the owlery; soon a magical housekeeper would be sent to his London flat to restore order. Having accomplished this Harry was feeling prepared enough for his final errand, a stop in at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, where he would obtain some of the more difficult to procure and questionably legal ingredients for Euphoria Blue. The Weasley twins had begun trading in black market potion ingredients shortly after the war in an effort to bring in additional income to support the family.

Harry took a steadying breath before entering the Weasley's shop. Despite Harry’s fallout with Ron after Ginny’s death, he had remained cordial with the twins. They were vital in his ability to brew Euphoria Blue and had even helped in some of the early research phases of the drugs’ development. The twins had been very understanding of Harry’s desire to erase the war years and Ginny’s loss from his mind, unlike Hermione. The small sign over the door was turned to “closed” declaring the twins out for lunch; this served Harry well and he let himself in knowing the door would never be locked to him, per an agreement made with Fred and George years before. The bright displays were overflowing with product, helpful little signs suggesting nefarious uses and gifting ideas. Harry called out for Fred and George, hoping they were eating in and he would not have to wait long.

Draco was feeling daring and energetic by the time he had finished most of his shopping and ice cream with Gretel. Shortly after ice cream Gretel had gotten distracted catching up with an old friend and Draco had left them with plans to meet up at the Floo later in the afternoon. Mikhail had continued to be an ever present shadow throughout the day rarely giving Draco more than a few feet of space. His looming presence and dour attitude had Draco entertaining thoughts of slipping his guard for just a short while and exploring on his own. Dressed and veiled Draco could not see any harm coming to him due to his unfortunate parentage. Draco threw a mischievous look over one shoulder before darting low and squeezing through an oncoming press of bodies slipping out of Mikhail’s sight. He manipulated his small stature to stay hidden as he worked his way down the street and back toward the bright display of a joke shop he had noticed earlier in the day. A look of absolute irritation crossed Mikhail’s features when he noted Draco had managed to vanish in the crowd. He began to carefully study the street waiting for signs of the squirrely child.

George stuck his head out from the back room. He stared nervously at Harry, face going white and tension crackling in the air. “Harry we were not expecting you today. You didn’t send a note around and we were, uh,” George began to stutter, wringing his hands as he stepped into the shop. Harry glowered, unsure how to respond to his friends unusual behavior, “I came for the usual reasons. I was not aware I needed to call ahead. We have never worked that way before.” George bobbed his head distractedly as he kept an eye on the door to the back room only half listening to Harry, “Yes, yes, I know. It's just, uhm, well, we had lunch guests.” As George fell silent Ron stepped out behind George, finally having managed to remove the sticking charm George had hastily cast.

“What was with the stickin…” Ron cut himself off mid sentence, taking in Harry’s presence and paling, “Harry?” Harry’s face went red with anger at the sight of Ron, his hands fisting at his side. His left eye began to twitch behind his glasses. Fred hurried in from the back room, holding a hastily tied package wrapped in heavy brown paper. He pressed the parcel into George’s hands before trying to guide an uncooperative Ron into the back room. George passed the packet from hand to hand, impressed at Fred’s quick thinking, “Fred got your order ready. No charge on this one. We are really sorry this happened, but you should go,” George stepped forward holding the packet of ingredients out to Harry.

Ron refused to be moved, “Harry can you please just talk to me? It has been almost four years. I was out of my mind with grief and I spoke out of turn. I know you couldn’t have saved Ginny. I know I should never have blamed you, but we are best mates! Can you really still hate me?” Ron pulled his arm out of Fred’s grip and came around the counter, trying to get a better look at the friend he had not seen in over four years. Harry had grown tall in the years apart, speaking to a late growth spurt. His shoulders were broader and more muscular than Ron remembered. His face was harder, all sharp planes and angry eyes. He had traded out the round glasses of his youth for a pair of thick black plastic frames that better complimented the harshness of his face. Ron winced, feeling responsible for the death of the carefree boy he remembered from before the war. George made a grab for his younger brother, trying to keep him from moving closer to Harry, “Ron, you should go with Fred and clean up from lunch please.”

Harry bit out a strained reply, “Ron you do not deserve my forgiveness. I recommended you not approach me again. It is only out of a deep respect for your brothers I have not leveled you right here. However I cannot promise in different surroundings I would be so forgiving.” Harry shoved the package George had handed him in the sack from Slug & Jiggers before turning on his heel and pushing through the door. As he stepped out into the street a small body came bolting from a group of milling witches and slammed bodily into him before bouncing backwards and landing in a heap. Harry growled and turned on the child.

Draco was smiling brightly as he made his way toward Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop that had tempted him earlier in the day. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Mikhail caught up and was enjoying his mad dash flight. That was, until he smashed into an unyielding body. Falling backwards Draco landed in the snow, blonde hair spilling around him, worked loose during his run. His hood had fallen backward, veil hanging pinned to one side. Large blue eyes stared up in horror at the dark haired man as Draco attempted to stuff his hair back into his hood. Mikhail spotted the confrontation from several blocks away and began pushing his way toward his wayward charge.

Harry’s eyes widened, taking in the sharp bones, white blonde hair, and eyes of the clearest blue. “Malfoy!” His wand was shaken from his sleeve in the blink of an eye and trained on the quivering child. The confrontation was drawing attention and several people stood watching nervously. Draco scrambled to his feet holding his hands out showing he posed no threat, “Uhm….please I don’t know what you want, but I am Draco. I am just Draco.” The boys voice cracked coming out high pitched and whining. A tremor ran down Harry’s back, memories flooding forward to overwhelm him, no longer restrained by Euphoria Blue. “I do not know how you did it, Malfoy, but you will not walk away again. I saw you die. I watched the kiss, but here you stand!” It was clear Harry was no longer seeing the boy before him, but his brother Lucius years dead. Mikhail burst through the milling bodies, wand out as he dragged Draco behind him. Harry snarled loudly, advancing on Mikhail. “Confringo,” Mikhail’s blasting curse took Harry in the chest, knocking him backwards and leaving him disoriented. “Expelliarmus,” Mikhail cast for good measure, sending Harry’s wand flying into the crowd as he dragged Draco back toward Gringott’s and the public Floo.

Harry lay in the snow for several moment, trying to get his bearings. The commotion in the street had brought George out of the shop and he scrambled to collect Harry’s belongings. The crowd had begun to disperse, moving around the fallen man. “Come on Harry, let’s get you home,” George held out a hand, helping Harry to his feet. “Harry I’ve not seen you like this in a long time. You are off the Blue, aren't you? Why did you wait so long to come around so you could start a new brew?” Concern was painted across George’s face. “I’m off the Blue for good George. I am coming up for air. I just need to think.” Harry ran his hands through his hair tugging at the ends. Shoving his hands in his pocket Harry looked up sheepishly at George.

“I don’t know what to say to you Harry. You are unstable. We don’t know how often you can come around if you are staying off the Blue. You have to understand what a liability you are. We wouldn’t mind sending your supplies around if you still want to brew, but until you get yourself under control we can’t have you near the shop. You were a step away from killing Ron. He isn’t our favorite the last few years either, but we can’t have you endangering our family or customers. I’m going to apparate you home now. Send an owl around if you need us or you can drop a letter off in our muggle post box.” Harry nodded and held out his arm, which George took, apparating with a pop. The pair stumbled before righting themselves in the front room of Harry’s flat. The house cleaner had not come through yet and the space was still a disaster. George shook his head, “See this Harry, you are a mess. Figure things out and we will be happy to have you come back around.” George set Harry’s wand and parcels on the floor before disapparating.

Draco had begun to tremble uncontrollably as Mikhail hauled him bodily away from the angry raven haired man. He felt like those emerald eyes had seared him to the very soul. “Mikhail I am so sorry. Please take me home. Please,” Draco whimpered, curling into his guard to seek reassurance. Mikhail scowled and scooped Draco up, carrying his slight frame in both arms as the boy trembled. “You are a foolish child running off that way. Look what trouble you find for yourself. We will keep this between us. You have been punished enough for your foolishness. Now quiet down, pet, and we will go home,” Mikhail made an awkward effort to comfort the boy, moving between patting his back and carding calloused fingers through Draco’s mussed hair. Mikhail set the boy back on his feet on the steps to Gringott’s bank. Mikhail hastily tucked the last of Draco’s hair in his hood and refastened the veil before gesturing the boy ahead. Draco nodded shakily and led the way to the Floo where Gretel stood waiting anxiously. “Ah, there you two are. Hope you didn’t run into trouble. Thought I saw a scuffle in the street a ways down when I was headed here. Didn’t investigate mind you. Some people can be so volatile. Oh, Draco you look positively exhausted and you’re trembling. You're not used to so much interaction, are you pet? Come, let’s get you home and to bed for a wee rest before dinner,” Gretel babbled as she stepped into the fireplace. Mikhail upended the Floo powder and in a swirl of flame the three were whisked back to Boraxn’s London estate.

Draco collapsed in relief as soon as he stepped from the Floo. Gretel gasped and made to catch the child. She was not quick enough, and Draco sank to the floor sobbing silently. “He had a long and overwhelming day Gretel. I will take him to bed. Please inform Mr. Belchrot that Draco has taken ill.” Mikhail gathered the frail child in his strong arms and carried him through the house and up the service stairs to the second level. Once in Draco’s room he stripped of the boys cloak, dress, and stockings, settling him under the covers in only his white cotton panties. Draco sighed softly and snuggled into the soft bedding, quickly drifting to sleep. The stress and panic melted from the boys’ features as he relaxed into unconsciousness, and Mikhail let a small smile cross his face at the sight. Boraxn bustled into the room moments later, “What happened today Mikhail? I was informed that Draco collapsed in the front parlor.” Mikhail nodded somberly, “The outing was over stimulating. We stayed out too long. He needs rest.” The mans’ words were short and clipped. Boraxn nodded and waved the man off, “Then he shall rest. Tomorrow will be a hectic day.” The pair left the room pulling the door closed with a click, each returning to their individual responsibilities.

Harry had fallen into bed shortly after returning from Diagon Alley. The call of Euphoria and the onslaught of memories had left him shaken. To escape he had downed a dose of Dreamless Sleep and settled in for the night. That was, until the shrill ringing of a phone brought Harry slowly around. It took several moments before Harry could place the source of the noise, but when he did he scrambled from bed, throwing open the bedside table drawer and fumbling inside for the burner phone he had picked up a few weeks back. Only one person had the number to this particular phone, and that one person was Mr. Gray, Harry’s contact in the muggle underground. Harry brought the phone to his face. “Ello?” He mumbled blearily. still trying to shake the fogginess of sleep from his mind.

“Good evening Mr. Potter. We have had some time to look over the samples you provided and would like to see more of this product. We are not ready to commit to a business contract at this time, but my employer is most curious about this substance. We will send a runner by in the next few days and I advise that you be available at our leisure to provide this.” Harry recognized the voice on the other end of the phone as the rounded man from a couple nights back. Harry rubbed a hand roughly across his face, “I can do that. I’ll need a few days to get a batch ready, but it can be done.” “That is what we were hoping you would say,” Mr. Gray responded. ending the call. Harry sat on the edge of the bed for several moments absorbing what had just come to pass.

The news was good, better than he had expected, and Harry felt moved to action. He swung himself out of bed, slipping his glasses on, and made his way through the dark apartment to the spare room he had converted into a potions lab. The house cleaner had come through while he slept and the path was clear, nothing tripping him up as he went. When he opened the door to the lab he found boxes of the cleaned and packed unbreakable vials he used for Euphoria. Harry was pleased at the competence of the individual as previous cleaners had tossed the vials out, causing him no end of frustration. Harry took a deep breath and his whole body relaxed. Worries fled as he set himself to the motions of brewing Euphoria, a task he would work at without rest until complete.

Draco slept late the next morning and came awake with a start feeling panicked. It took several minutes before he could calm his breathing. Checking the clock and noting the late hour, Draco scrambled out of bed knowing Boraxn would be upset he was not present at breakfast already. The events of the day before left Draco craving his caregivers’ comfort. He quickly stripped and collected his kneeling cushion, hoping a show of subservience would win Boraxn’s approval. After running a quick brush through his long hair he scrambled down stairs and slipped quietly into the breakfast room. Boraxn sat reading his paper, a mug of coffee steaming in one hand. He made no move to acknowledge Draco’s entrance. Draco suppressed a needy whimper and set his cushion to the side of Boraxn’s chair and knelt, eyes downcast, as he lay his head against the arm of the goblins’ chair. Boraxn lifted on thin eyebrow at Draco’s kneeling form before moving his hand down to pet the boys hair idly while he read. Draco made a soft sighing sound as he melted into the touch.

“We have a busy day ahead of us little one. Mikhail will be taking us into London shortly to meet Dr. Chesca. This a simple procedure and you will be brought home this evening. The next couple days however will be spent in bed recovering before you are returned to Madam Adele’s,” as Boraxn spoke Draco sat quietly rubbing his head against the goblins bony hand. He mewled softly, enjoying the attentions.

“Yes Master. I will behave for you. I will not bring disappointment. Please don’t let them harm me. I’m frightened,” the boys’ tone sounded broken.

“You had an overwhelming day yesterday from what I heard. I suspect there was more that happened then I am aware, but I will leave that for now. I am glad for it as I see you now understand fully the protections I offer you. You are an unwanted thing Draco. I have made you valuable, but without me you are nothing. Remember always that you are property, pet.” Draco nodded happily and tried to push closer to his caregiver, leaving him to rub helplessly against the side of the wood chair.

“I want you to go get dressed for the day Draco. Mikhail will bring the car around shortly and we must be ready,” Boraxn untangled his fingers from the boys hair and returned to drinking his coffee. Draco rose gracefully and left the breakfast room to prepare for the day, leaving his silk cushion behind. An hour later Draco stood beside Boraxn on the front steps. waiting for Mikhail. They made an odd couple; the willowy boy child and the somber goblin beside him. Where Boraxn was all sharp angles and seriousness Draco was lush curves and sensuality, a boy child bred to be a courtesan. The sleek black Lincoln town car pulled up to the front step and Mikhail came around to hold the door for Draco and Boraxn. The pair settled in for the long drive into town.

It was mid-afternoon by the time the trio arrived at Dr. Chesca’s private London practice. It was set in an old converted brownstone in a well-off residential neighborhood. Ivy climbed up the front of the building and cheerful hedges sat perfectly trimmed below a large picture window. A small gated yard came right up to the sidewalk and if you stared too long you felt your eyes sliding away almost slipping over the image of normalcy. Mikhail came around and opened the door of the car, stepping back to let Boraxn climb out. During the ride the goblin had slipped on an amulet imbued with concealing charms that would keep muggles from noticing the man, even if he stood on their toes. Draco followed, a small tremble betraying the brave facade he had kept up most the ride, and he worried the hem of his dress between his finger. Boraxn gave a sharp slap to the boy’s hands, “That is unbecoming. I insist you break that habit immediately.” Draco nodded submissively, dropping his hands to his side, and followed a step behind and to the right of Boraxn as he made his way up the front walk. They were let in by a smartly dressed butler who waved them into a front parlor to wait.

Boraxn settled himself in a large wingback chair, smoothing his pant legs, and waited silently. Draco knelt on the floor beside him, struggling to keep his eyes downcast when there were so many new things in the room he would have loved to explore. Books lined the walls and he could just make out some of the titles from where he knelt. Just as he was about to pull his eyes back down to the carpet Dr. Chesca bustled in. She was a tall, severe woman with a face made of sharp angles and small storm-grey eyes set below a hard brow. She wore her lank blonde hair in a tight bun that pulled the skin of her forehead taut and shiny. Her labcoat clung to sharp shoulders that sprouted out like wings and fell straight, not a curve to interrupt the crisp white lines. On sight one would quickly determine she was a rather unpleasant individual. Draco felt a chill race down his spine and felt bile rise in his throat as he fought down his rising panic. Boraxn gave her a slight smile, laying a comforting hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“I am ready for the boy. I assume you have been fasting him?” Dr. Chesca’s voice was tinged with an accent that spoke of Eastern countries, a little rough and gravely around the edges. Boraxn nodded, “I have. May we head back and have him prepped? I would like to be home before late evening if possible.” They spoke above and about the child as if he had neither sense or free will. The doctor gave a sharp nod and turned on her heel, waving for them to follow as she headed back through the door. Boraxn rose and started after her, Draco falling in step behind and to the right of Boraxn. The hallway they walked down was papered in pretty floral print that added a sunny air, and the floors were a honey-colored wood. The image of an inviting home was shattered when Dr. Chesca steered them through a door at the end of the hall which lead into a stark white operating room. The floor was tiled in white ceramic and the walls were painted to match. Glass and steel cabinets lined one wall, revealing an assortment of implements and other objects needed for the running of a medical practice. A high table stood in the center of the space, draped in a paper sheet with a single thin pillow laid at one end. Lights and monitoring equipment were crowded around the table and a thin man dressed head to toe in green scrubs and a face mask stood fiddling with one of the machines. Draco gulped audibly and barely restrained himself from trying to press his body into Boraxn’s back, seeking comfort.

“Boy, you will strip and lay out on the table for examination. The procedure is rather simple and shouldn’t take long,” Dr. Chesca’s voice was brisk and uncaring. Draco jumped to obey, suppressing his desire to tremble, and pulled his dress up and over his head. Blonde hair tangled around his face and arms and he fought briefly to escape. Boraxn glared at the boys show of indignity. Draco blanched at the look on Boraxn’s face and pulled a black elastic band from his wrist before wrapping his hair into a quick bun and securing it with the tie. Boraxn nodded his approval and Draco continued to undress, folding each garment with care as it was shed. The medical assistant had to help Draco onto the high table where the boy stretched out nude, turning his head to one side to avoid catching anyones’ gaze. Dr. Chesca picked up a clipboard from one of the prep trays and quickly began to rattle off basic health questions, which Boraxn answered in a clipped precise tone; as this was being done the man in scrubs took Draco’s vital signs and hooked him up to a heart monitoring machine. The assistant was pulling a thin sheet over the boys’ lower half when a slim silver band on one wrist caught his eye, “You need to remove this.” He tapped the bracelet with one finger. Draco gave him a look of horror and started to whimper. Boraxn turned an angry look on the child when he caught sight of the tech attempting to remove Draco’s wristlet, which held a powerful suppressing magic. “Leave that be. It has no ill effect on today’s proceedings.” Dr. Chesca nodded her head in agreement, a dark look in her eyes as she watched the man, and he pulled away as if singed.

Dr. Chesca handed the complete medical questionnaire to her tech and waved him away, “We will begin his examination and then Mr. Tanner will administer the anesthesia.” The woman started by checking the boys heart and lungs, making him cough and breathe deeply. She pressed at his stomach, checking for tenderness or pain and the glands at his neck. His ears and eyes were examined with a bright shining light which left him blinking owlishly. Then the thin sheet was removed, revealing his underdeveloped manhood. The woman made a soft, appreciative sound at the sight of the boys bare form, trailing a hand down one milky thigh. “He is truly beautiful Boraxn. I feel what I do today will be making art of such raw form. May he blossom into everything you imagine,” the woman’s tone was reverent. Boraxn came up beside the table, standing just a head taller, and gave his charge an appraising look,“He would have been wasted as a freed person. Unprotected and unwanted, the world would have crushed such delicacy.” Dr. Chesca nodded in agreement before continuing to examine Draco. She took his sack in hand, palming it gently and probing it with her long slender fingers. Draco made a small breathy noise and pressed into the women's ministrations, eliciting a chuckle from the woman. She moved to wrap her hand around his small penis, giving a few firm tugs as Draco writhed on the table, overwhelmed with sensation he did not understand. The small organ twitched, starting to stiffen. “What a pretty responsive clitty he has,” the doctor said before pulling away and leaving him laying glassy eyed on the table. Moments later Mr. Tanner was covering Draco’s face with an oxygen mask as he instructed him to breath deeply. It was not long before unconsciousness took him and the pair set to work removing the boys balls and much of the extra skin surrounding them. Dr. Chesca pulled the remaining flesh smooth before applying precise stitches, leaving a surface of lily white flesh that mimicked a woman’s mound.

Draco drifted in a haze as his mind slowly bubbled to consciousness. He only barely registered a tightness in his groin as colors danced behind his closed lids. Draco reached down to touch himself beneath the thin blanket, finding a smoothness where his balls had once been. He could tell from the lack of bandaging that a magical salve must have been applied. As Draco’s hand played across the empty place his cock twitched, reminding the boy of the exciting sensations the doctor had introduced him to. Draco slowly opened his eyes, surprised to find himself in his own bed, and noted he was truly alone. Guilt blossomed in Draco’s chest as he reached down to grab his small cock in his hand, fisting it clumsily and tugging up and down in the same motions he remembered from earlier. The organ stiffened quickly. Draco rubbed his palm over the head and sucked in mouth full of air, overcome with sensation. It bubbled up in him, starting in his toes and sweeping upward until he felt afire. He used his free hand to tickle across the sensitive flesh were his sac no longer lay and slowly a pleasing tightness began to build just under the surface of his groin. Draco was unsure how to process such feelings and a moan escaped his lips as he continued to jerk erratically on his small, hard erection, while massaging the new smoothness. Finally the tension could build no longer and he exploded in orgasm, cumming in a thin dribble of clearish fluid. Draco lay twitching and sated, his mind foggy with pleasure. The boy had no context for what had happened, but he knew it was good and he hoped to explore the sensations in the future.
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An Unwanted Son