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Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58478 -:- 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
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Infinity Loop
Magic always felt flexible, always moving. Sometimes as insubstantial as smoke, slow and graceful, or as congealed as water, flowing as strong as a river, but magic was never more solid than water. As Pandora sank deep into the trance, she felt the two children's magic throb and pulse. It bubbled up from beneath the surface and poured into her mind.
A pungent, woody smell, the scent of amber, as a steady river of magic rushed around her. It was gritty against her skin, hooks and barbs scattered throughout the cooling water. The few she could see as they passed were blood-stained, and she knew intuitively that the child's magic was called to blood: a hemopath. Rare and carrying a dark social stigma, hemopaths had nonetheless been incredibly powerful in centuries past.
She felt it now, a pull. The forest green river bent, and, in its wake, dark golden umber followed. There was a sense of freedom in the umber's blind rush, following the path of the green, but also a sense of free fall. As if the umber river had no bed, a rootless tsunami that could destroy all around it and then wash away into nothingness and death. But instead the umber was locked on the path of the green, pulled and guided, controlled.
Bright, pure gold sparkled in ripples along the umber's surface. It was the most beautiful color Pandora had ever seen. There was infinite kindness there and true unconditional love. A metallic taste on the back of her tongue, it sparkled and shimmered like the effervescent bubbles in a soda. Against her legs, the occasional whipcord body of a snake brushed gently against her skin.
Long ago, the very first healers were Parselmouths. Forgotten by many, Parselmouths were the source of the Healer's symbol: a snake winding up a knotted staff. This magic meant to heal and protect like the days of old. Paired with a hemopath, it was beautifully poetic. Two perfect pieces fitting together the way only nature could manage: a cosmic pairing. No wonder their bond formed as quickly and strongly as it had. Some would say it was destiny.
The umber river curved, and she could feel the deep green coming, a seamless infinity loop... There! Pandora felt something red and black, not dark gold or green. Something that didn't belong. She dove after it. Pushed through the umber, letting herself be carried by the current.
Like driftwood, burnt and mangled, the piece of black was pulled along on the gold's current. Pandora approached cautiously. The metallic taste became distinctly rust-flavored as she approached. Corruption and decay, she nonetheless felt some life pulsing weakly within the black husk. She carefully studied how it was attached to the river. Slender strands sank deep beneath the surface, but they weren't wide enough to contaminate the water. Black didn't seem to be leaking or spilling into the gold, just holding on, looming.
Pandora took a deep breath and hardened her own magic into as solid a shape as she could, then she reached out and touched one of the connecting strands...
Horrific screams tore through her mind; the tortured sound of nature twisted into the unnatural.
Pandora fell away with a cry of sheer revulsion. Shaken, terrified, she curled up and let the gold rush away. Let the green crash around her. The waters were choppier, disturbed by her reaction. She felt the barbs prick her skin along her arms and back. Felt tiny streamers of her magic bleed away. The river roared around her.
She went limp, submitting under the suddenly violent force of the green river. Tumbling and spinning beneath its furious waves, she deliberately reached out and caught a handful of barbs, cutting her palm and bleeding magic out into the deadly storm.
* Do not attack. Not yet. The gold is not being tainted. The connection is tenuous, but it is solid. Breaking the connection can be done, but must be done carefully, so as not to cause a rupture. * She added an image of the golden-flecked umber river stained by pools of pitch black.
Screaming a battle cry, the green churned and thrust up with violent force.
Pandora collapsed, falling on her butt next to their massive bed. She was damp with sweat and panting hard. The tiny cuts on her arms and back stung. Looking up at the side of the bed, she saw Draco sitting with deceptive calm, looking down at her with his eyes a bright silver.
“You will find a way to break the connection,” the little boy stated, voice cold.
“Yes,” she promised, still unable to catch her breath. She had expended more magic than she had expected to. Reaching to her wrist, she pulled off a charm from the bracelet that was there. She felt the pull of the portkey and gave herself to unconsciousness.
…
Harry stared up at the ceiling, breath coming in short gasps. The sense of the black thing, the vile corruption clinging to him, Pandora's horrified reaction and Draco's terrible anger, shattered his mind. The familiar feeling of black filth oozing from his skin, his eyes, his mouth overcame him. Draco touched him, grabbed his wrist – TERROR! SELF-HATRED! – Harry flung himself away with a desperate scream.
Draco lunged, but he was just a second too slow. Harry scrambled off the bed and bolted into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and turning the lock. Draco hit the door, his heart beating hard, and heard a deafening crash as glass shattered.
- desperation revulsion despair -
“Harry!” Draco roared, furious and afraid. “Open the door Right NOW!”
“I WON'T LET IT HURT YOU!” Harry screamed, high-pitched and hysterical.
Cold power swept through Draco's core. Viciously, he bit into his hand between thumb and forefinger, cutting through skin and making blood gush. It splattered wetly on the floor and onto the door as he slapped it onto the wood.
Instantly, the door began to smoke. Draco applied pressure, pushing his hand through to the other side. His fingers were soaked with blood and he had to scrabble for a long second at the door handle before he finally got it unlocked. Draco yanked his hand back through the hole he'd made and flung the door open.
The mirror had been shattered; broken glass littered the countertop and floor. Harry stood in the corner, his back to the wall, eyes dark and tormented. His face was pale, and his chest rose and fell in rapid little gasps. Blood tickled down the boy's wrists from his cut palms as he held a big piece of glass about four inches wide and nine long to his throat above his collar.
“Evil... filthy... freak... fucking die, demon... Draco maledicte et omnis... legio diabolica... adiuramus te...” Harry babbled, completely lost – despair fear painpainpain.
“HARRY!” Draco barked.
The boy jumped, startled. Seeing Draco, he shook his head, inadvertently nicking his throat. “No, don't. Draco, no. Don't come. Cursed! Evil!” He backed away blindly, stumbling slightly, and Draco was terrified he'd fall and hurt himself.
“What's around your throat, Harry!” He yelled, beyond furious, beyond afraid. “I put that collar on you! You're MINE!”
Harry gasped and froze, tears spilling fast and furious.
Draco moved forward, pinning Harry with his stare. “Did I tell you to hurt yourself, Harry?” he snarled. “Did you really just lock a door between me and my boy?”
“Draco...” Harry gasped – terror denial confusion agony.
“Drop. The. Glass. NOW!”
Harry's hand spasmed open immediately. The glass cracked and clattered onto the hard tile floor. “Draco...” he rasped desperately, sobbing. “Please... I'm evil, Draco... filthy freak...”
Draco stood panting, mind nearly drowning in the pain and insanity flowing from Harry's soul. He'd almost lost Harry tonight. The boy had been a second away from killing himself. To destroy the evil inside him, to protect Draco from the vile magic that had been attached to his soul, Harry had been about to cut his own throat.
- He watched, lost in the fog of his own pain, as one of the Brats fought the others away from the bread. With dead, dark eyes, the little boy stuffed more and more into his mouth. Not to eat, even though they were always hungry, but to die. He pushed the bread down his throat desperately until he began to choke.
Draco did nothing as the child eventually fell sideways, face going red and blotchy. His body jerked a few times, arched upward in a spasm. The others were crying, cowering away from the dying kid. Not one of them tried to stop what was happening.
In minutes, it was over.
The boy was dead.
The others looked away, turned their backs, cried. Draco's never did. He stared into that kid's distorted, dead face for long seconds before he reached down and grabbed the boy's wrist.
He dragged the boy's limp body up the stairs. It felt heavier than it should. Draco pulled and strained, listening to the hollow thunk as they went up each step. With a sneer of disgust, he let the kid's arm fall limp and left the body in front of the door with the trash. -
Harry's face superimposed over the face of that long ago boy in the Hold, and Draco felt sick.
Harry was so full of life and goodness and emotion. He worked so hard and loved Draco so much. All of that would be gone. No more holding hands, or kissing, or eating together. No more laughing. No more pleasure, no more happiness. Draco would be utterly and completely alone. Worse, he'd have no reason to exist. What would be the point without Harry?
Draco lashed out and grabbed Harry by the throat, pinning him against the wall, the collar digging into his palm. “I think you've forgotten who you belong to.” His nimble fingers darted in toward the top of Harry's blue shorts and grab onto the belt buckle. It took only a second for Draco to work Harry's belt open and yank it off.
- shock desperation confusion need painpainpain - Harry was sobbing, whole body shaking, but he didn't resist as Draco belted his wrists together and pulled him from the bathroom by the make-shift leash.
Draco gave Harry a firm shove and pushed him onto the bed. Dragging the boy up so he was on the bed fully, Draco planted his knees on either side of Harry's hips, still holding the long end of the belt in his hand. How could be make sure this didn't happen again?
What can I do? Draco thought, mind racing desperately for the answer they needed.
And then he remembered...
- He lay nearly senseless as waves of pain pounded down on him again and again and again. He was on his stomach, gasping despairingly through his tears. His throat was so raw from screaming all that escaped him were hoarse moans.
“...give you a tat. Mark you permanently...”
Draco arched weakly away from the knife as it dug even more deeply and scrapped bone. “Please...” he groaned...“please...” Trapped on his stomach, the master sitting on his thighs, the sheets turning red under him. The knife sliced through torn, bruised skin again and again.
“Put a hawk right here.” The blade wiggled sickeningly under his skin. Draco croaked, hands twisting in the sheet. “Put it there so you'd never forget you're mine...”
The knife peeled a strip of skin from his shoulder blade, and Draco managed an agonized whine before blacking out... -
“Dobby!”
The elf appeared instantly, his smile melting into one of fear as he took in Harry's bleeding hands and Draco's coldly furious expression. “Young master!”
Draco shot the elf a look over his shoulder, hair falling across his sweat-dampened face. “Attach this to the bed frame!” he demanded, holding up the belt.
Dobby snapped his fingers and the end of the belt lashed out of Draco's hands. The violent move yanked Harry's hands over his head, splattering blood over Draco, Harry's chest and face, and the bedspread.
“No! Please! No, Draco! Gonna hurt you!” the boy screamed, head thrashing wildly, tears falling in a torrent.
Palm stinging, Draco sat back on Harry's thighs and pulled on the belt to make sure it was truly secure. It didn't move. He gave Harry a grin and, ignoring the screams, and the hurricane of – self-loathing terror – he slipped off the bed and strode calmly to the closet.
“Young Master Harry, it be okay!” Dobby pleaded.
“Don't talk to him!” Draco barked, coming out of the closet with another belt in hand. “Stand quietly in the corner. I don't want to hear you or see you unless I give you an order!”
Eyes wide as tennis balls, the elf slunk into the corner obediently and wrung his ears.
Draco yanked Harry's feet together, looping the belt around the boy's ankles and pulling it tight. Harry lay nearly senseless: babbling, pleading, crying.
“Attach it to the frame,” Draco ordered again. He was prepared this time, so the belt didn't hurt him when it snapped out of his hand and became one with the bed frame. With an oomph, Harry was pulled taunt, unable to move, lying parallel to the footboard and headboard.
Draco jumped back onto the bed and sat next to the sobbing boy. He took in the thin arms stretched above Harry's head - the sweat-damp, tangled black hair - the pale face scrunched with distress and wet with tears - the thin throat encircled by a black collar and the single shallow cut on the right side - the white, short-sleeved button down covering the thin, heaving chest - the blue shorts and thin, pale legs - and finally – the small, white-socked feet.
“You gave yourself to me, Harry,” Draco reminded, reaching forward to run his hands down the buttons of Harry's shirt. “You no longer belong to yourself. You don't get to decide to leave or stay. That's my decision now.”
Green eyes wide, Harry stared up at Draco with - despair fear self-hate.
White teeth flashed as Draco gave a predatory grin. He pinched off the top button of Harry's shirt, causing the brunet to whimper. “You're not going anywhere, Harry.” Another button was yanked off. A third, and the shirt fell open enough to expose a hint of Harry's pink nipples.
“D-Draco...” Harry sobbed, going limp – confusion need desperation.
Draco leaned down and put his face close to Harry's, drinking in the boy's raw expression. “There's nothing in you I can't handle.” Without moving, without looking, he pinched Harry's nipple hard between his fingers.
Harry's mouth fell open on a gasp, his chest arching up into Draco's painful touch.
“Every inch, Harry. Every inch of you is mine. It's not up to you anymore.” Draco sat up and continued to pull of the shirt's buttons until it fell open, exposing Harry's chest. The boy's left nipple was already swollen and red. Draco smiled, soaking in the sudden – anticipation relief need – that flooded from the boy.
Harry didn't have to worry. He didn't have to fear that his demon and filth would hurt Draco. Draco was strong and good and powerful. He could handle Harry. And Draco would make the decision on if Harry stays or goes. It wasn't up to him. The relief Harry felt went soul deep. It was as if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe again.
“Draco... please...”
Draco stared into the sweet expression of his boy and leaned down, pressing his mouth to Harry's. He licked and sucked until Harry began to moan, then he thrust his tongue forward with violent force. He licked along the roof of Harry's mouth, pressing his tongue along Harry's teeth. The boy arched against him, moaning into the dominating kiss.
Pulling away with a wet smack, Draco trailed his lips over Harry's chin and down his neck to the thick leather collar. He sucked it into his mouth, wetting it and making it warm. Harry tossed his head back, submitting.
* Mine, * Draco growled, biting down hard.
Harry gave a cry of pain as Draco's teeth pinched and bruised, but he didn't flinch or make a move to escape. His eyes were bright, his lips red and swollen, his cheeks flushed with pleasure.
Draco sat up once more and grabbed Harry's jaw in a painful grip, forcing their eyes to meet and hold. “I'm going to make sure you don't forget ever again, Harry. That you're mine. You don't get to lock doors or hurt yourself or try to leave me!” he hissed, still furious. “You belong to me!”
“Please! Draco, sorry, please, love you,” Harry babbled as Draco released his face and slipped from the bed.
Dobby cowered as Draco's cold eyes landed on him and asked him an unexpected question. His eyes grew even wider as he answered, “Dobby can do it, Master Draco! But Dobby will need to cut into the skin... It will hurt Master Harry!”
“He can take it,” Draco answered, crossing his arms and staring down at the creature. “Get what you need. You have five minutes. I want it to be perfect!”
Dobby disappeared with a pop.
Turning to Harry, Draco gently ran his fingertips down Harry's chest and looked deeply into the boy's wide-green eyes. “I'm gonna put something on you that you can't take off. Something more permanent than the collar. Something that makes you mine. And it's gonna hurt, Harry.”
Harry's expression softened even as his eyes grew brighter - desire need joy.
Smiling, eyes half-closing, Draco whispered, “Good boy,” and kissed him again.
Dobby returned with little glass jars. He looked nervous, but his hands were steady. Draco allowed the creature to sit next to Harry on the other side. Ignoring the elf as he set up, Draco opened Harry's shorts. Dobby vanished Harry's underwear when asked, leaving the boy exposed.
Draco caught and held Harry's eyes again. Blonde hair falling around his face, he looked fierce. “Say it,” he ordered. “You know what I want to hear.”
Green eyes fierce, Harry spoke, voice thick and raspy, “I belong to Draco.”
Draco grinned, all sharp teeth and dominating eyes, a little devil. “Keep saying it. Don't stop 'til I say you can.”
“I belong to Draco,” Harry obeyed. His heart was beating a mile a minute. He had no idea what was going to happen. He knew it would hurt, but it would make him Draco's permanently. He wanted it so badly, he almost couldn't breathe. “I belong to Draco.”
“Good boy,” Draco praised, stroking Harry's lower stomach. “You hurt me, Harry. By not trusting me to handle you.” He showed the boy his bleeding hand. Harry's eyes went wide in – horror! “I expect you to fix it. I expect you to fix your hands, too. Because they are mine, and you hurt them.”
“I belong to Draco,” Harry whimpered, - grief regret.
Draco offered Harry his bleeding hand. The boy lifted his head, putting his mouth on the bleeding bite as soon as he possibly could, and immediately beginning to lick and suck. Warmth throbbed through Draco, spiking up his arm and settling into his gut.
“Good boy,” he purred, eyes heavy. “Good. Now I'm gonna make you mine.” Keeping his hand at Harry's mouth, he bent down to lick and suck between Harry's legs.
- shock pleasure need - “I belong to Draco,” he moaned, eyes slipping closed, only to slam open as something painfully hot seared into his side. Harry screamed. He would have jerked away, but he was held immobile by his wrists and ankles.
Eyes swimming, Harry put trembling lips back on Draco's hand, arching as the heat of Draco's mouth slid against him again and again, sucking, licking, sending him flying. “I belong to Draco!”
Draco watched Harry's body go tight through black-ringed vision. His body was on fire as pleasure/pain poured down the bond in a torrent. Harry's taste flooded his mouth; the boy's legs trembling under his hands. He thrust desperately against the mattress, everything coiling tighter and tighter.
“I belong to Draco!”
Through the static of Harry's emotions, Draco's eyes never left the hands of the elf. The creature moved with inhumane grace. Long fingers gentle and precise as he made Harry bleed. Draco was worried at first that Harry's gasping breaths and heaving chest would make it hard for the elf to work, but the creature moved with the boy as if he were riding a wave.
“I belong to Draco!”
The bond burned like molten lava. Hot, everything was hot. Harry's side burned so fiercely, the searing pain nearly shook him apart. Between his legs the wave after wave of heat and tongue and wet, making him moan and rock. Drenched in sweat, lost in all the sensations, Harry screamed and babbled his mantra: “I belong to Draco!”
…
Draco pulled his head off of Harry's lap. The boy was limp, completely passed out, chest still heaving. Color had leached from Draco's vision, and his whole body throbbed from the intense orgasm, but he refused to faint. Numbly, he took in the bleeding, raw flesh of his boy's side.
“It will look better when it heals, Master Draco,” Dobby whimpered.
Draco ignored him, carefully moving up Harry's body to check the boy's hands. The palms were scarred, but they were healed. He sank his hand – perfect with not even a hint of a scar – into Harry's wild hair and collapsed next to him. He pressed his face into Harry's neck.
“Take the belts off, Dobby,” he whispered and let the darkness wash over him.
…
Harry blinked blurry eyes open. Long shadows filled the room, the sky orange and pink outside the window. His arms felt stiff as he pulled them in close, and he looked curiously at the dark black bruises on the outside of both wrists. Rolling his ankles, he knew the bruises would be the same there.
He sat up, Draco's warm arm rolling across his chest into his lap. Scabbed, red and swollen, Harry could make out the image of a silver dragon with what looked like blue highlights curled above his right hip. It was about three inches long and two tall. His skin burned and throbbed hotly even now, but Harry thrilled in the pain. It told him the dragon was real. Draco had marked him just as he promised.
“Don't touch it.” Draco was watching him through calm grey eyes, lying on his side, head cradled by pillows. “It'll look better when it's healed. Dobby did a good job.”
Harry looked down at Draco tearfully. The blond smiled and reached up to pull his head down. Harry leaned into the kiss desperately, almost bursting with – love gratitude joy. When Draco broke the kiss, he rolled them so that Harry was on his back, looking up at him.
“I'm gonna take care of you, Harry. Don't ever run away from me again.”
“Draco...” Harry flung his arms around the blond's neck. “Love you! Yours!”
“Yes.” Smiling, Draco leaned down to nip at Harry's lips. “Mine. Forever.”
Chapter end.
A/N: Things escalated kind of quickly, but I feel like a breakdown was brewing for a while now.
They now know Harry's got something of Voldemort hanging around. Lucius will just love that.
Don't worry. We'll get back to the Malfoys next chapter. And it will be the boy's first weekend with Andromeda, too!
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Freedom Bound in Chains