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Learning Life Over	By : Meander Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 69712 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- 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
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And here we go again. I like this story.

Chapter 3- Harry Tries to Bribe a House-Elf

Draco
focused on the potion in front of him. It was a deep blue-purple color, with
first one shade and then the other dominating as the liquid swirled in the
cauldron. It sat on top of a scrying mirror, which was barely big enough to
reflect the metallic sides of the cauldron back. Draco lowered the final
ingredient into the potion, a strand of Harry�s hair that he�d collected last
night while Harry lay unconscious on the bed.

The potion
burbled once, and then glowed a calm indigo, with no more of the swirling.
Draco smirked and bent to breathe on the scrying mirror, which began to
shimmer.

This potion
was linked to the sleeping potion he�d given Harry. At least, it was linked
once Harry had ingested that sleeping potion and Draco had added the strand of
his hair. Draco could move the cauldron in a moment, so that he could see the
mirror more fully.

That would
allow him a glimpse into Harry�s dreams, and a way to influence them.

And
then, the fun begins.

*

Harry
looked around. He knew he must be dreaming, because the landscape around him
was soft and confused in a way it only ever was in his dreams. He appeared to
be sitting in the middle of an enormous blue-purple cloud, or perhaps a flower,
as it bent a little like that around him.

And someone
was touching him, fingers sliding over his forehead, down his cheeks, gently
cupping his jaw.

That was
what made him think it wasn�t a dream. He�d never felt anything so real
when he dreamed. Usually, he dreamed of cases, and sometimes of Hogwarts, but
they faded into tattered images that were gone come morning. This certainly
wasn�t something he�d experienced in the past, and therefore it had no place in
his head. In fact, Harry couldn�t remember the last time someone had touched
him, except a suspect who tried to run and whom he had to tackle and bear to
the ground.

He shifted,
shrugging his shoulders, trying to get rid of the hands. They didn�t pay
attention to him. They�d reached his shoulders and begun a rough motion that
Harry supposed most people would call a massage. He called it annoying.

Harry
glanced down, and realized with a start which brought heat to his skin that he
was naked. And, from the position of the hands, the other person was sitting
behind him, and could therefore see everything.

He tried to
cover himself up. One of the hands moved, catching both his wrists in a firm
grip and lifting them out of the way. The other crept down his chest, bringing
a warm arm with it, and a finger flicked delicately at his left nipple.

Harry�s
face might as well have been on fire by now. He tried to stand, and it didn�t
work. The hand on his chest pinched his nipple, making Harry cry out in
startlement, and tweaking nerves he hadn�t known he had.

A chuckle
sounded in his ear. His reaction apparently pleased the person touching him. To
Harry�s further confusion, the chuckle was definitely male. Not that he had
time for dating, or for frivolous dreams, either, but if someone had asked him,
Harry would have said he was straight.

His nipple
got pinched again, and then the hand holding his wrists let them go so it could
do the same to the right one. Harry arched his back despite himself. Sharp
pinpricks of sensation fled through his torso and into his lower body, as if
he�d been sitting on one of his legs for a long time and was now trying to
stand.

And then
the fingers shifted further down his chest, skimming up and down the delicate
skin on his ribs. Harry knew he was flushing even more deeply. He wouldn�t call
himself ticklish, but, well, he was sensitive there, thanks.

And he
feared where the hands might get to if he let them keep going.

Again, he
made an attempt to get away. But the blue-purple blanket beneath him bobbed and
shifted, and made him stumble to his hands and knees. The person behind him
followed, and then fingertips were fluttering along his spine, touching his
shoulder blades, his lower back, a spot just above his arse that Harry didn�t
even know he had but which made him jump as if stung. His tormentor laughed
outright this time, and directed more attention to that spot, pressing and
pinching the skin, making Harry utter a low confused noise. He didn�t know what
was happening to him, but he was sure it would end up pulling emotions to the
surface that he�d deliberately discarded a long time ago.

What he
feared would happen happened, and one of those clever hands cupped his cock,
rubbing so softly that Harry shivered, before dipping back towards his balls.
He twisted, feeling as if the pleasure the touch awoke were hurting him,
hooking into him and dragging him towards an arousal he wasn�t ready to feel.

�Don�t
worry,� the torturer whispered, directly into his ear this time, awakening
unwilling memories of how sensitive they used to be when he still dated Ginny.
�We won�t be having sex until you�re ready. But I did want to show you how good
I could make you feel.�

�We won�t
be having sex ever,� Harry snarled, and lunged away a second time.

This time,
the pursuer let him, and Harry�s eyes snapped open as the dream dissolved. The
first thing he noticed was the much later angle of the light, which meant he�d
been in bed all day, doing nothing, which lashed him with guilt and
frustration.

The second
thing was his erection, digging insistently at the crotch of his trousers. He
couldn�t remember the last time he�d been this hard. He couldn�t remember the
last time he�d been hard.

Harry
closed his eyes, willing the anger back down. It doesn�t matter, he told
himself again and again. You knew something like this was going to happen.
It doesn�t mean you want it; it�s just a natural physiological reaction. You
know that.

And he did.
He wasn�t really worried about the fact that he�d reacted. The dream had been
magical, or perhaps the result of a potion in the food he ate. He was worried
about the fact that he had to work hard to keep from touching himself, that the
drag of his trousers over his cock felt so damn good.

He couldn�t
afford to lose control, or he wouldn�t escape from Malfoy. And if he didn�t
escape, then he couldn�t continue to work. He�d already spent one day lying
around uselessly in bed. What else would happen if he started flailing around,
obeying the first emotions that sprang up in him, like a child?

He had
to escape.

�Master
Harry is coming with Trippy now.�

Harry
yelped, his eyes flying open, and he curled around to shield his arousal,
before he realized he was trying to do that in front of a house-elf. He forced
his body to relax, and studied the elf for a moment. She was a bit bigger than
Dobby, and held a pile of folded cloth; Harry couldn�t tell what it was meant
to be. New blankets for the bed, maybe.

It occurred
to him that he might try to convince her to let him go. Of course, most
house-elves were loyal to their masters beyond any bribery or trickery, but
Dobby hadn�t been. Maybe his example had inspired the other Malfoy house-elves.
Maybe Harry could lie convincingly enough to make her think that Malfoy had given
different orders than he really had. He�d done it to humans, after all.

Best of
all, as he sighed and applied himself to the task, he felt his erection slowly
beginning to soften.

�I suppose
that I�ll have to disobey Malfoy�s orders, then,� he said mournfully.

Trippy�s
ears twitched above the pile of cloth, and then she peered around it at him.
�Which orders?� she asked anxiously. �Master Malfoy was giving orders that
Trippy did not hear of?�

Harry
nodded. �He told me in my dreams just now,� he said, making up the lie on the
spot. Ha. Take that, Malfoy. �He said that I could go out beyond the
Manor and Apparate home, as long as I promised to return in the morning. I
don�t sleep well except in my own bed, and he knows that. He was sorry for
keeping me here last night.� He paused. By now, Trippy�s eyes gleamed like
lanterns, and she seemed to have to work hard to keep from tapping her foot on
the ground. �But if you�ve had different orders, then I�ll just have to disobey-
�

�Trippy
doesn�t wish to disobey Master Malfoy�s orders, ever.� The house-elf
looked on the verge of bursting into tears. �Trippy is a good elf!�

Harry
raised his eyebrows. �Really?� he asked, as if he doubted it.

�Yes! Yes!
Trippy is not like bad Dobby!�

�But, well,
you are, if you try to prevent me from leaving now,� Harry pointed out, while
filing away the fact that appealing to Dobby�s example probably wouldn�t work.
�In fact, I�m afraid I�d have to tell Malfoy that I told you about his orders
and you still disobeyed them. What would happen then?�

Trippy
shivered, nearly sending the pile of cloth she held to the ground. �Bad
things,� she whispered.

�But they
don�t have to,� Harry coaxed, anxious to keep her from getting so upset that
she�d start hurting herself. Not only would that make him feel bad, but he�d
rarely got any sense out of Dobby when he reached that state, and the same
thing would probably happen with Trippy. �Not if you just lift the spell on me
right now and let me leave the Manor. I promise I�ll come back in the morning.
And if I don�t, then Malfoy would punish me, not you.�

The
house-elf sniffed and looked at him closely. �Master Harry promises?�

�He told me
that.�

Trippy
nibbled the edge of one ear. Harry waited. The moment she lifted the spell that
prevented him from leaving the bed, he intended to throw all his energy into
wandless Apparition. He could accomplish it when he really had to, such as when
he knew someone was trying to kill his partner. And this counted as an
emergency. Once he reached the flat, he could establish such strong wards that
Malfoy wouldn�t be able to intrude, and then he could find out what he had to
do to get his missing wand, his job, and his life back.

�Trippy is sorry,� the house-elf
said suddenly. �But Master Malfoy says Master Harry is a bad boy, and will lie to get out of trouble. If Trippy is wrong, Trippy will say sorry and
punish self, but Trippy does not think she is wrong. Trippy thinks this is a
lie. And Master Harry needs to come with Trippy.� She waved a hand, and Harry
abruptly found himself floated off the bed, helped along by house-elf magic.

�Trippy!� he protested, trying to
struggle. His limbs hit nothing, of course. He was being levitated, not carried
along in chains.

�Master Harry very sick,� said the
house-elf, who sounded much more cheerful now. �Master Harry needs to learn how
to relax.� She turned and trotted off through the
garden, while Harry bobbed along behind her like a helpless balloon.

For a moment, rage tried to overcome
him. He was going to get out of this, somehow, and then he was going to kill Malfoy.

Then he breathed hard, and subdued
the emotions again. Maintaining a level head was still his best bet right now.
So he couldn�t trick Trippy. That didn�t matter. He would find some other way
out of this.

Trippy walked under the trees and
through more beautiful green clearings that Harry wasn�t really in the mood to
appreciate, then past a flowerbed thick with roses, before halting. Harry
peered over his own stomach to find out where they were.

A pool was set into the ground ahead
of them. Harry could smell the water from here, sweet and warm, scented with
what he supposed was a spell; surely not even Malfoy was enough of a ponce to
float crushed rose petals on the surface or similar. White stones rimmed it,
and Harry could see what looked like enough different kinds of soap and shampoo
to serve an army.

�Master Harry must get into the pool
and wash himself,� Trippy announced. �Without clothes on.�

�Oh, bloody hell, no,� said Harry.

Trippy faced him, with a small
frown. �Master Harry is being sick again?�

�Look,� said Harry, trying to calm
his breathing, �if he wants me clean, can�t you just bring me to a shower or
something? A shower�s fine. I- �

�Master Harry is being sick again,�
Trippy decided, and snapped her fingers. In an instant, Harry�s clothes were
sliding off him and folding themselves by the side of the pool. Trippy set down
the pile of cloth she was carrying, which Harry finally realized was a set of
towels, so fluffy as to be decadent. And on top of them was a set of clothes
that he was no doubt meant to wear.

�Master Harry get in water now!�
Trippy squeaked, and her magic zoomed Harry over and deposited him gently into
the pool. Harry struck out with his legs and gripped the stones on the side,
trying to figure out how deep the water was.

Not deep, he found at once; he could
touch the bottom with his toes. And there were several small sets of stones
descending into the pool to form natural places to sit, or, Harry supposed,
climb in and out. Of course, when he tried to do so, his arms fell limp again,
just as they had on the bed, and he drifted back into the water.

�Trippy will come back for Master
Harry when he has washed his hair and soothed the soreness and aches out of his
muscles,� the house-elf said. �And Master Harry is to wear the clothes left for
him.� Harry watched open-mouthed as she snatched up everything he�d worn when
he arrived here, including his work robes, and carried them regally off.

�Those are my clothes,� he spluttered.

�They are not being Master Harry�s
clothes any more!� Trippy called gaily over her shoulder. �They are being
rags!�

Harry closed his eyes and tried to
count to ten to slow the beat of his racing heart and the pace of his anger.
That didn�t work, so he counted to one hundred. That still didn�t work.

Who the fuck does Malfoy think he is, kidnapping me like this and
subjecting me to- to bizarre dreams and sweet breakfasts and hot water?

The worst of it was, it sounded
ridiculous when Harry phrased it that way to himself. Other than the dreams and
the spell that made it impossible for him to escape, what Malfoy had done
sounded more like activities that a Healer might order.

I do not have a problem, Harry
thought, as he reached in resignation for one of the bottles on the side of the
pool. I will not succumb to
Malfoy�s madness, or his- his attempts to make me wank, or whatever he�s doing.
I will survive, and I will get out of here. I have people to help. I�ve
already wasted one day in bed.

�Hello, Harry. Mind if I join you?�

Harry froze. It was Malfoy�s voice,
and it came from behind him, and at the moment, the only thought that would
occur to him was not a cunning plan for escape, but Oh, holy shit, I�m naked.
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