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
- 32
- 33
- 34
A/N: Very special thank you to My_perversities for being a consistent and true reviewer. I really appreciate your voice. I write this chapter for you! Hope you like it.
Homecoming
Draco held Harry's hand firmly in his own as he stood with the Malfoys at Dumbledore's fireplace. Mrs. Tonks had already left after accepting Narcissa's polite invitation to lunch tomorrow to discuss things further. Remus stood off to the side. He'd also gotten an invitation, but his was for the following week, to discuss the reward for Draco's discovery. That left Dumbledore. The old wizard stood, hands clasped in front of him, robed in purple with his long white beard and hair, watching them solemnly. Draco watch him back.
“Stand close to me now,” Lucius told him, and Draco reluctantly moved in so that he was just touching the man's hip with his shoulder. Harry was glued to his side with Narcissa next to him on his other side. Lucius shared one last guarded look with Dumbledore before throwing a handful of powder down, calling, “Malfoy Manor.”
Flung through a tube, twisted and snaking, Draco found himself shoved out of a fireplace. As he fell, he turned, yanking Harry toward him so that he landed on his back with Harry sprawled across his stomach. Lucius and Narcissa staggered but they managed to stay on their feet.
Lucius waved his wand and they were all instantly clean of soot while Narcissa moved carefully to the nearest chair and sat, back straight and hands carefully folded in her lap after adjusting her skirts. Draco sat up, righting Harry next to him. The boy's glasses where hanging from a single ear and he carefully set them back in place. He didn't bother getting off the floor. His stomach was still turning. There was a good chance he was going to be sick.
“I'm sure you've had an exhausting day,” Lucius said quietly. He stood to the side, weight braced on his cane, watching him. “When you've caught your breath, I will see you to your bedrooms. Dinner will be served in three hours. A house elf will fetch you when it is time.”
“Bedroom,” Draco corrected, expression blank as he stared up at the man who thought himself Draco's father. “Harry's with me.”
Lucius frowned, his blond brows lowering over his grey eyes forebodingly, but Narcissa spoke before he could.
“That's fine. I'm sure the room is large enough to accommodate you both. However, if you'd like any changes made to the furnishings, please let me know.” She smiled at him warmly and Draco couldn't help feeling a little impressed. The woman was pale and sickly, clearly unable to stand, and yet she easily took charge of the room. “I look forward to seeing you both for dinner, Draco, Harry.”
Draco gave her a polite smile. She was an ally, at least for now.
Nudging Harry, the boy stood and then helped Draco to his feet. Taking Harry's hand again, he turned and looked up at Lucius expectantly. The man's face was blank once more. Clearly he would have words to say to his wife as soon as they were alone, but Draco was certain Narcissa would have her way.
Without further conversation, Lucius led them from the room. It had been exceptionally clean with pale textured wallpaper, pale wood floors and a few spindly-legged chairs with pale lavender cushions. On the wall across from the massive fireplace, a framed painting of a tall, blond man in midnight blue robes sat in a blooming garden. He had stared at Draco with an expression of surprise the whole time.
As simple as the room was, it had screamed money, so Draco wasn't shocked when they were led through long hallways with a carpet runner over white stone floors, the walls decorated with huge silver and gold framed paintings, with the occasional marble statues of people or magical animals. Enormous windows looked out on rolling hills, a small lake, and flower gardens in full bloom. He even caught sight of a white bird with an enormous tail walking around outside. Off in the distance he could see black and white horses running free.
Draco tried to take everything in, but there was so much to see it was impossible. One hallway, a huge marble staircase, and another hallway later, Lucius stopped in front of a wooden door with magical animals carved in beautiful detail. The doorknob was large, round, and bright gold. It would take both hands for Draco to turn it, and he noticed that there was no keyhole. That meant the Malfoys did their locking with magic. Draco felt completely unconcerned by that. His poison could eat through magic, after all.
With a half-bow, Lucius opened the door, saying, “If you need anything, I will be assigning Dobby to your care. Just call his name with intent and he will come.”
Draco stepped past the man, towing Harry with him.
The medium sized sitting room was decorated in blues, greens, purples, and silver. The walls were grey with a shiny silver pattern delicately embedded throughout. A huge window stood directly across the entrance, and two more doors led right and left along the windowed wall. A large bookcase carved similarly to the main door stood against one wall with a low-sitting, deep green couch under the window.
Along the other wall was a large, matching wooden desk that sat low to the ground at a child's height with feathered quills and parchment. The desk chair was covered in deep blue leather. A wooden chess set and stand crafted from a single piece of wood sat in another corner. The chairs there were like the ones in the fireplace room with thin, spindly legs and padded seats a dark blue to match the desk chair.
A thick rug covered the floor in a geometric design done in blue, purple, green, and silver. A wooden display table stood near the window and had a green, leafy plant in a porcelain pot that filled the room with an earthy smell. Large purple flowers on thick stalks had been placed in a vase on the back corner of the desk and added a faint sweet scent to the mix.
Harry took one look around the room and felt his head swim. He locked his eyes on Draco's back and forced down a stream of apology. Shouldn't be here! Filthy disgusting freak! Dirty! He could almost feel black slime dripping off his body to contaminate the perfection of the manor. Frozen, terrified, Harry clawed onto the last of his reason, knowing Draco had given him a task. He was a fucking failure already and he needed to obey Draco.
“There are rooms within the manor that have not been made safe for children. Please remain here until dinner. I will give you a tour of the house and some basic house rules after the meal if you feel up to it,” Lucius told them, voice and expression stern.
“Yeah okay,” Draco agreed. He crossed his arms impatiently; the bond had been buzzing for a while but was now reaching painful levels.
Lucius tipped his head forward and left, shutting the door behind him.
- terror panic self-disgust – The bond screamed with Harry's distress.
Draco pulled him toward the couch. Harry gave a horrified gasp as he was pressed down to sit – He was going to ruin the beautiful thing! He clawed at Draco's arms, blind and panicked.
Draco knelt on the floor between the boy's legs, letting Harry hold on to him. “Talk to me.”
Harry shook his head, eyes wide and breath coming fast. He was past the point where he could talk.
Draco knew it was the luxurious setting that had tipped Harry over the edge. Harry didn't feel worthy of normal things let alone all this. And this was on top of the stress of meeting Dumbledore and finding out Draco had parents. Harry was desperately flailing as his mental reality began to crumble around the edges.
With very deliberate and slow motions, Draco began to unbutton Harry's shirt from the bottom. Holding Harry's wild green eyes, he worked his way up. The shirt parted, revealing Harry's skinny belly and chest. With a fierce grin, Draco pressed his nails firmly into Harry's skin up by his shoulders hard enough to sting but not hard enough to draw blood. He brought them slowly down, his nails catching on Harry's nipples on the way. The boy's stomach jumped in reaction to the sting, and Harry held his breath. The bond sang with – fear self-disgust desperation.
“No matter where we are. No matter who we're with. You're mine, Harry. That's never gonna change, right?”
“Yours,” Harry whispered, eyes wide and unblinking as he stared down at Draco.
Draco smiled. “No matter where I am, you'll be with me. Because you're mine and that's where I want you.” He leaned forward and opened his mouth. Harry's breath caught. * Quiet. Take it all in. Remember where you belong. *
He closed his lips on Harry's side near his hip-bone, licking at first and then sucking. When Harry began trembling, he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Harry arched underneath him. He didn't make a sound at the sharp, tearing pain, and once Draco's teeth released him, he went limp, sucking in a huge breath.
Draco stared up at him. Gently stroking Harry's thighs through his jeans, he possessively traced Harry's features, the boy sitting with his head flung back along the back of the couch. He was slouched down, his shirt parted to reveal creamy skin and the thin trails Draco's nails had left as well as the sluggishly bleeding bite just above one hip.
Leaning forward again, he licked along the boy's stomach until he latched onto the spot that mirrored his first bite. Harry's mouth parted for a moment on a silent moan before closing tight. His eyes never once opened, and he remained limp and needy – displaying an absolute trust that made Draco's heart sing.
Draco bit him again, once more drawing blood. Harry went tense as the pain spiked through him and then fell limp once more. The bond was quieter now, filled with – worry shame love need. The release of some of the tension and fear made a sob catch in Harry's throat.
“Let it out, Harry,” he ordered gently. Reaching up, he tugged Harry's glasses off his face, staring into those jewel-bright eyes as tears glistened on long lashes and spilled over reddened cheeks.
As the boy cried softly, Draco unbuttoned Harry's jeans and tugged them down. Harry pressed up, letting them slip off his butt and bunch at his thighs. Draco was still between his legs so he couldn't close them or slip the pants off completely. Draco didn't need them off.
Limp and warm, tears salting his skin, Harry watched with his head slightly tilted to the side as Draco grasped his hips, thumbs pressing firmly against the fresh bite marks. Pain throbbed hotly as he was tugged to the edge of the couch. His head slipped off the back and slid down as he was pulled those two inches forward.
Draco began to smile the sweet smile he only ever gave Harry, and Harry melted into Draco's touch, even as the blond's grip tightened painfully on his hips. The pain grounded him, made him real, made Draco real. He stared into Draco's silver eyes and everything else disappeared. Draco was all there was; his world was right once more.
Draco's left hand slid down Harry's hip and up under his leg, leaving a warm, wet trail of blood. With his forefinger, he gently pulled the boy's pale cheek aside to reveal the tiny pink hole within. Harry remained pliant at his touch, – anticipation want – a low thrum that made Draco shiver.
* Look at me, Harry. *
As soon as those green eyes were on his, he pressed his blood-coated thumb into Harry's body.
Harry's mouth fell open on a long moan, his pupils grew, and his eyelids fluttered, but he never broke eye contact.
Draco panted against Harry's thigh, his whole attention of the bond and the silken feel of Harry's warm passage fluttering against his touch. He glanced up to see Harry had flung his hands up over his head and hooked them around the back of the couch. It reminded Draco of Brendon's basement, of the absolute trust Harry had given him as he'd healed Harry's torn insides after being raped. The thought made his heart race even faster and he pulled his thumb all the way out only to press it back in.
“Who do you belong to?” he growled, voice hoarse.
“You... Draco...” Harry warbled softly. Blood stained the rim red - like lipstick, and the hole slowly loosened, the resistance decreasing until Draco's thumb moved in a smooth glide in and out.
Harry felt his whole body warm; the feel of Draco touching him there sent sparks through his stomach again and again. Made him want to throw open his legs; made him want to give Draco everything. Please yes yours! It felt so good, pressure building in his gut, and his hips instinctively began to rock, pressing down on Draco's hand every time he pressed forward. More Draco please!
“No matter what. No matter where,” Draco said again. His silver eyes seemed to fill the world.
Harry was almost panting too hard to answer. Sweat rolled down the side of his face and he clutched at the back of the couch as his legs began to tremble and shake. “Yours Draco always no matter what yours please I'm yours...” he babbled helplessly.
Draco leaned forward, staring into Harry's tear-filled eyes, and licked the boy's soft member into his mouth. Harry gasped, body bowing in a graceful arch, his eyes slamming shut. Heat thundered through the bond, blinding Draco to anything else except Harry.
Clenching his right hand, Draco tore the bite mark that little bit more and he tugged at Harry's rim, pulling it open. Harry gave a sweet, breathy cry, and Draco came up onto his knees as the wave broke over him, his head flung back as he thrust his thumb as deep inside Harry's body as it could go.
They collapsed tangled together, Harry half off the couch with Draco draped over the boy's stomach, his left hand falling free to curl around Harry's ankle. Harry's hands fluttered and hovered over Draco's head and shoulders in quick strokes and gentle touches.
Expression soft and warm, Draco sat up and captured Harry's hands to kiss his fingertips. * I'm going to take you so many places, Harry. We're going to do so many things. But never forget you're mine. Nothing else matters more than that. Keep your eyes on me, Harry, and I promise you'll never get lost. *
Harry stared at him adoringly, his hair sweat-damp and wild around his head. Draco felt warmed all the way through as – love devotion pleasure – pulsed inside his head. “Yes, Draco. Yours.”
Still smiling, Draco set Harry's clothes to rights, the boy pliant and unresisting. Practically purring in satisfaction, he crawled up onto the couch and held Harry, stroking his hair into some semblance of order until the boy was breathing deep in sleep.
Draco lay there and rested for a few minutes longer until he couldn't stand not knowing any longer. He had to know if the rooms were truly empty, if they were truly safe. He carefully wiggled free and set off to explore their rooms.
The door to the left led to a bedroom. Another large window, this one with cream-colored, gauzy curtains that still let in a spill of afternoon light. In the center of the room stood a bed with a massive headboard carved with huge pirate ships that could fit three adults easily. It had emerald green bedding and a massive pile of white pillows.
The ceiling was painted to reflect a blue sky dotted with white clouds. Jewel-colored dragons slept curled up on the clouds or swooped through the sky in playful dives. A nightstand on either side of the bed had two drawers each. Fat candles shoved into silver candle stick holders sat on top of both.
A huge wooden chest at at the end of the bed, making Draco think of pirates. A dresser that matched the wood of the chest sat against one wall with seven drawers. Along the top sat a few stuffed animals. Two double doors opened to reveal a walk-in closet bigger than any bedroom Draco had been in. It was sparsely filled, but Draco suspected that Narcissa would have it full to bursting soon enough. A second, smaller door revealed a bathroom.
The tub was almost big enough to swim in. White marble with grey swirls covered every surface. There was a sink, toilet, and a silver shower as well as the huge claw-footed tub. Shelves held fluffy white towels. A clear cabinet held vials and creams, floss and clippers, basically anything you'd need to be clean. A hamper was tucked discretely under the sink, and along the sink counter were brushes for hair and teeth. A huge mirror covered one wall. There was a shelf over the bathtub that held a dozen bigger bottles and a few different bars of soap.
Shaking his head at the over-the-top display of money, Draco returned to the sitting room to see what was behind the second door. It opened into a large closet. There were games and toys on shelves along the walls: trains, dolls, balls, stuffed animals, and other things that he had no idea about. There were also boxes and other things stored away.
Satisfied that they were alone and there was only one entry way into their rooms, Draco shut the door once more and padded back to the couch. He carefully maneuvered a still sleeping Harry so that he was lying flat on his back. Carefully, Draco settled between Harry's thighs and draped himself protectively across Harry's chest. Eyes on the main door, he let himself drift to the sound of Harry's steady heartbeat under his ear.
…
Lucius had returned to Narcissa immediately after seeing to the boys. She was nearly unconscious, slumped in the chair. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to their wing in the manor. She came to once he settled her on the bed, propped up on pillows. Lovingly, he undid her hair and let it spill in a beautiful curtain down past her hips to fan out around her.
Narcissa smiled up at him, gently touching the back of his hand. “Our son is home, Lucius.”
He smiled and bent to kiss her head. “Yes. Draco is home.”
But it wasn't the homecoming he had imagined. They were forced into a shared custody by a soul-bond to a boy who was at the center of dangerous events. His son was not what he expected, either. He wasn't like Lucius as a child or Narcissa. He was strange and foreign. Still, Narcissa was right. Draco was home. Even with all these problems, Lucius was fiercely glad to have Draco back. Allowing his shoulders to relax, he went to the armoire to fetch Narcissa's potions.
“We have so much to learn about our son,” she said, excited. Her blue eyes sparkled and her smile was warm, her public mask cast aside. Her joy made her look years younger. “And he has so much to learn about his family. We have so much time to make up for.”
“And we will have that time,” Lucius promised. He sat on the side of the bed and turned so he could stroke her hair and kiss her smiling lips. “Rest, Cissa. The boys are getting settled. We will see them for dinner.”
She gave a long sigh as her eyes fell closed.
Lucius sat with her a minute longer before he was up and quietly shutting the door behind him. In minutes, he was in his study, quill in hand. He had many letters to write if he were going to take control of this situation.
First, he would contact Severus. They were not friends, but the man owed him favors, and Lucius was going to collect. He wanted to know everything Severus could find out from Dumbledore about Draco's discovery and the boy's life before returning to them. He would also write Lupin and demand a written accounting of his experiences pertaining to Draco. Additionally, he wanted the name of the American Mind-healer so that Lucius could get their testimony as well. Another letter would be addressed to the Asclepius for his personal report regarding the bond as well as Draco's physical condition after years among Muggles.
He would also need to write to the Daily Prophet and all the papers and magazines who had posted the story of Draco's abduction. A simple notice that the reward was no longer available and a request to stop publishing Draco's story would stir the pot just enough until he decided how to orchestrate his son's public return. Furthermore, he had to cancel the services of the mercenaries and detectives he'd hired.
Finally, his last letter would be to his secretary to hire a researcher or expert on the Fidelius Charm. Lucius would discover who had stolen his son away and hidden him in America. Just because Draco had been returned to him did not mean Lucius would forget or forgive. His rage burned too hot to ignore. Draco was his son, his only child. Anyone who touched his son would suffer greatly, Lucius would make sure of that.
…
“Master Draco be bleeding?”
Draco's eyes slammed open and he sat up, angling his body so that Harry was mostly behind him. The room was filled with soft light, telling Draco that more time had passed than he'd thought. It was nearing sundown. An elf stood in the center of the sitting room. He looked similar to the elf Dumbledore had called. It had large bat ears, tennis-ball-like green eyes, and a pencil-like nose. It was about three and a half feet tall, the top of his head reaching Draco's shoulders.
Draco slipped off the couch and stood facing the creature. Harry sat up behind him – curious calm – and watched passively as Draco confronted it. “Don't just pop in here like that,” he ordered with a glare. “I wantcha ta knock like a person and wait for me ta say come in. Unless I've called for ya. Then I guess it's okay ta pop in. Got it?”
Dobby's ears wagged as it teared up. “Master Draco wants Dobby to knock like a person?”
“Yes.” Draco continued to stare as the creature covered it's face and began to cry. Growing impatient as the creature didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, he turned to check on Harry. He tugged the boy's shirt up. It stuck to the dried blood and Harry gave a soft hiss. Blood stained the shirt where it had pressed against his bites, but the wounds were already scabbing over.
“Master Draco's boy is hurt, sirs!”
He glanced up to see that Dobby was hovering nearby. “He's fine. But can ya clean the blood?”
“Oh yes, Master Draco! Dobby is good at cleaning up blood!” He lifted his hand and snapped his spider-like fingers. Draco watched in fascination as the blood on the couch, floor, and Harry's shirt began to slowly fade. “Dobby is cleaning it up, Master!” the creature smiled at him happily.
“Thank you,” Draco said absently, still watching the magic work.
“Master Draco be thanking Dobby!” the creature gasped, shocked. Tears welled up in its large eyes once more.
“Why'd ya come in here anyway?” Draco quickly asked to head off the fit.
“Master Malfoy and Mistress are calling yous for dinner, Master Draco!” the elf exclaimed, ears flapping.
Draco sighed and gave his attention to Harry. “You ready?”
Harry smiled - calm trust love - “Yes, Draco.” His hips still throbbed and his hole was still sore and hot. It was as if Draco were still touching him.
Shivering at the thought, Harry accepted Draco's hand and they followed Dobby out into the hall and through the manor. They were led back the way they'd come and down the marble staircase, but then they went in the opposite direction of the fireplace room, down another hallway, and were led into an elegant dinning room.
It had cream wallpaper with brown diamond swirled patterns with a soft yellow chandelier that looked like bare tree branches with about a dozen golden candles. There was a big silver mirror on one wall that sat above the halfway mark. Underneath the mirror on the lower half on the wall was white wood with a small lip at the top.
The table was dark wood in a rectangle that could fit three dinning chairs on the long sides and two chairs at either end. The floor was polished wood, and there were two narrow windows that stood floor to ceiling and showed a small hedge garden. On the center of the table was a low bowl of white flowers and two silver candle sticks with white candles lit. The ceiling was white, but you could see fat wooden beams crossing along the top.
Draco's parents were waiting for them. Harry gave a shy smile and wave, clinging to Draco's hand, as Lucius stood at their entrance. Again the man tipped his head in a now familiar gesture. His expression wasn't cold, but he looked guarded. Narcissa, however, gave them the warmest smile he'd seen from her yet.
“Come. Have a seat. I know you must be hungry.” She gestured to the two chairs that sat next to each other on the long side of the table while Narcissa and Lucius occupied either end, facing each other.
Harry took the seat Draco gently pushed him toward. It was the one on Narcissa's side of the table. Draco took the chair on Lucius's side. Harry stared at the china plates that sat on top of each other, each slightly smaller than the one on the bottom, and the many silver forks, knives, and spoons that surrounded it. It was beautiful and weird, but it fit in such a fancy room.
“I will walk you through dinner etiquette,” Narcissa told them, her voice and expression warm. “It's an important skill to have in polite society. It's like a language, and if you know how to speak, doors to people in power will open. It is a means of protection as well as a means to influence society to your wishes. You would have learned this language from birth had you not been stolen, and it is certainly not too late for you to learn. We want to provide you with every advantage we can to be successful in this world.”
Draco said nothing. He wasn't convinced all this formality and fancy rooms were strictly necessary. Money opened doors, sure, but it didn't matter if it came with fancy rooms or fancy manners. Still, there was a chance that they were right and it was needed to function in the magical world. In that case, Draco would take everything they gave him.
Harry ducked his head shyly and said, “Thank you...”
“Lady Narcissa,” she filled in. Her posture was perfect, her golden hair woven into large braids and coiled at the back of her head. Her dress was a misty grey, simple yet beautiful.
“Thank you, Lady Narcissa,” Draco said pointedly, meeting her eyes in challenge. He wanted to make it crystal clear that he and Harry were a package deal. What goes for one, goes for the other. If Harry couldn't call her mother, then neither would he.
Narcissa said nothing, but her warm expression had disappeared into a blank mask. Even still, she didn't miss a beat and gently clapped her hands. Immediately an elf appeared with a floating tray. Draco tracked the creatures progress – he did notice it wasn't Dobby – but Narcissa and Lucius very carefully did not acknowledge the creature's presence as pea soup in delicate little bowls was floated on top of their plates.
“Thank you,” Harry said again, smiling at the elf.
The elf's eyes went wide, but fortunately the creature did not begin to cry.
“We do not thank creatures, Harry,” Lucius explained. He sat calm and regal at the end of the table, his eyes thoughtful as he watched them. His hair was pulled back in the same low ponytail, but his suit had been replaced with a thick, dark blue wizard robe that was tailored to fit his shoulders and chest perfectly. “Even had they been human servants, you do not thank a person for doing something they are supposed to do. Gratitude should only happen when a person goes out of their way to benefit you. Creatures deserve even less consideration. It is their purpose to serve. They should thank us for giving them purpose and pride for otherwise their existence is pointless and unnecessary.”
Draco did not like the – understanding – that flowed through the bond. Harry instantly identified with the elf. The casual description of slavery fit Harry's understanding of reality and reinforced all those notions that he didn't deserve anything except punishment and should be deeply grateful for even basic care.
“They're only supposed'ta serve because they allow it,” Draco said coldly, staring Lucius down. “Basic gratitude is owed them because they're makin' a choice and could change that choice at any time. I'm grateful they continue to choose ta serve.”
Lucius was not impressed. He lifted a single pale brow. “When you thank someone it puts yourself in their debt. You are acknowledging that they have done something to be thanked for and thus you now owe them. That embarrasses these creatures. It also gives them a false expectation for we owe them nothing.”
“Why false?” Draco demanded. “You do owe them. You owe them protection and basic care in exchange for their service. That is the form of your gratitude. And their gratitude for that protection and care is their service to you.”
“That is a very interesting perspective,” Narcissa cut in. She lifted the outer most spoon and held it delicately between her slender-fingers.“The soup grows cold, however.” She gave all three of them a pointed look. “Generally, you work from the outside in toward your plate as the meal progresses.” She used her spoon to indicate the row of silverware. “I know this may seem silly, but I cannot express to you how damaging it can be if you eat in an impolite manner. You will be made a joke by others and laughed at to your face or behind your back. I know it may seem stifling at first and you may not understand why I am starting this now, but you have many years to catch up on. Your peers are already way ahead of you.”
Draco relented. He checked on Harry who was still – calm accepting – and lifted the outside spoon.
Narcissa smiled, her warm expression returning. “Try and hold it so. Do not lean toward the bowl. Bring the spoon to your mouth. Taste the soup and enjoy the flavor. In this setting, only the best will be provided.”
Harry hummed as soon as the soup hit his tongue. Draco followed him and he had to admit it was delicious, which actually made it even harder to eat the way Narcissa was demonstrating. He wanted to eat the soup quickly; it was delicious and he was hungry. Instead, he took the little sips she wanted. She smiled at him in reward, clearly delighted. Draco ignored that. He would follow along for now, but the second he deemed these people as unnecessary they would be gone.
Chapter end.
A/N: I'm not sure how many of you will read this author's note, however, I felt I must explain something. I received a review from someone very upset by this story. I was called sick and accused of promoting pedophilia, if I wasn't one myself. I've received flames in the past, but this one really hurt me.
I in NO WAY endorse or think it okay to hurt a child in any form. I do not think it sexy or acceptable. That being said, sexually abused children exist in the world. I personally have experienced that horror. On my journey, I have studied the psychology of perpetrators and survivors of sexual abuse and sexual slavery in an attempt to make sense of it all. And this story is my way of piecing all I've learned together to understand how such darkness can exist. Because it DEFINITELY is more complicated that a “few people are sick”. There is a societal system in place that allows child abuse and rape to FLOURISH. It is not something that happens rarely. A large percent of our populace has experienced sexual assault and abuse, and human trafficking is PROSPERING today. I am exploring that through writing in an attempt to understand it.
If it wasn't clear before, what Draco and Harry suffered in this story is HORRIBLE. One of many aspects that I am pursuing is to contrast the abuse they suffered at the hands of adults to the consensual love between the boys. To show how sex can be a beautiful thing in one form and a weapon in another (which baffles me still today).
The fact that the boys are still children and sexual is also realistic. Children of sexual abuse and especially sexual slavery have had sex become normalized. Once the box is opened, it can't be shut. A lot of people think this is disgusting and that the kid is forever tarnished by it, but through Draco and Harry I want to test that social convention.
I am not promoting children becoming sexually active. Children should be children! But I don't want to just write off the kids who had no choice and had that door open early. I don't want shove them in a dark societal corner. Their knowledge and sexual experience is socially unacceptable, but that's what is. I want to explore Draco and Harry coming to terms with society and society coming to terms with them.
I am deeply concerned if this story is interpreted in any other way.
Thank you for allowing me to explain this. The reviewer who was so disgusted by me did not leave me a way to answer back, but I had to get this out.
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Freedom Bound in Chains