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
- 49
- 50
- 51
A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day <3
Paris
Andromeda said her goodbyes at the house, leaving Ted and Dora to take the boys to the Leaky Cauldron without her. Dora had her school trunk with her. It was September first, so after escorting the boys, Ted would take his daughter on to King’s Cross Station to board the Hogwarts Express.
“Write me,” Draco whispered into her ear when Dora hugged him goodbye.
She gave a nod and flung her arms around a blushing Harry. “Bye, Harry! See you at Yule, maybe.”
Harry smiled his sweet smile. “Bye, Dora. Have fun.”
Draco took his boy by the hand and stepped into the green fire. He watched Dora wave excitedly before being spun and tumbled, and he nearly fell out of the Malfoy floo.
“Draco.” Warm hands and a warm voice greeted him as Narcissa gently caught him by the shoulders to steady him. “Harry.” Her smile was genuine as she took in the messy-haired boy beside him.
Harry smiled back, eyes bright behind his glasses. “Good morning, Narcissa.”
Lucius waved his hand and the soot and ash on their clothes and in their hair evaporated. “How was your trip?”
“Good,” Draco answered mildly.
“You look well,” Lucius acknowledged, taking in his son’s sun-kissed skin. Was Draco taller? Heavier? He thought so, and that made some of the worry lift from his heart.
“Why don’t you get settled in and in half-an-hour we can meet in the garden for some snacks and drinks,” Narcissa suggested. “You can tell us all about your time in London.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry agreed.
Draco took his hand and led him to their room. He loved having access to London and not having every minute of the day scheduled, but he had missed the greater privacy Malfoy Manor afforded them. Their rooms at the manor were a sanctuary, luxurious and spacious. It was like having their own little apartment.
Harry changed into his day clothes - shorts, button-down white shirt, white socks, and shiny black shoes. Draco, of course, stayed in his comfortable jeans, sneakers, and t-shirt, so he simply watched, enjoying the way Harry smiled as he got dressed. It never ceased to amuse him how much Harry loved nice clothes.
“Turn,” he asked, twirling his finger.
Harry, grinning and red-cheeked, did a slow spin so Draco could see all of his outfit.
“Very nice.” Draco jumped off the bed and ruffled his hair. “Come on.”
- happy - Harry followed.
It was a nice day, blue skies and fluffy clouds. Narcissa sat on the quilt with them while Lucius chose to sit on a bench next to the blanket. They had some strawberries, raspberries, apples, pears, and the last of the blueberries, their season coming to an end. Milk and orange juice sat in glass pitchers, spelled to keep cold. Narcissa and Lucius listened with interest as Draco talked about baseball and the movies they’d seen. Harry added a few details here and there. When the boys ran out of stories, Narcissa told them about a few luncheons she’d attended and some tentative playdates she’d arranged while Lucius talked a bit about business. It was a nice morning.
They were full from eating so much fruit, so they decided to skip lunch and get back into their lessons. Lucius went his own way, doing whatever it was he did during the day, and Narcissa took them to the sunroom. They worked on their reading, maths, and elocution for about four hours before Narcissa dismissed them to bathe before dinner.
Unlike other days, however, Draco followed her, leaving Harry behind to clean up. He caught Narcissa’s hand in the hallway and asked almost softly, “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course,” she answered immediately. “Where would you like to talk?”
Draco said nothing, instead keeping hold of her hand and leading her to the sitting room.
Narcissa felt absurdly pleased at the extended contact with her son and also simultaneously nervous about what he wished to discuss. He led her to a couch and hopped up, tugging on her hand to get her to sit next to him.
Large, beautiful grey eyes, Draco looked up at her curiously. “Has Andromeda written you?”
Narcissa, still focused on his small hand in her own, shook her head. “Should she have?”
Draco shrugged and finally let go of her hand. “We had a little misunderstanding toward the end of our visit.”
“Are you okay?” Narcissa asked, frowning. “What happened?”
Draco waved off her concern. “We’re fine, but it could have been bad for Harry. And Andromeda, actually.” He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s not really what I want to talk about, though.”
She wanted to know what had happened, but she could always write Andromeda later. “Very well.” She met her son’s eyes, showing she was taking him seriously. “What do you wish to discuss?”
“I wanted to ask you about ballgowns.”
Confused, Narcissa tilted her head curiously. “Gowns?”
Draco nodded with a rueful smile. “I knew he liked nice clothes, that they make him feel less filthy, but the gown made him feel beautiful. And I really want him to feel that way again.”
Narcissa stared in wonder at the sweet expression on her son’s usually hard face. It slowly dawned on her what he was saying, and her heart began to beat faster. A lifetime of training kept her rising panic from her face, and her attention sharpened on the hand he still held, hoping it wasn’t sweating.
Draco looked into her eyes in entreaty. “I want you to take us shopping. Buy us some nice outfits for when we visit the Pureblood families. Make a day of it. He’ll be uncomfortable with you spending money, so if you could arrange it so that the price tags are removed and he doesn’t see you buying them? And I’d love for you to get his measurements and buy the most beautiful gown you can find. Something simple but that flows when you spin during a dance. Then when the time is right, I’m going sneak out of bed and to leave it out for him. I’ll have Dobby wake him once I’m already dressed and waiting in the ballroom, and we’ll have a private ball where no one will judge us.” Eyes bright with excitement, he asked her, “Will you help me?”
Narcissa squeezed her son’s hand. “That sounds beautiful. Of course I’ll help you.”
Of course, she was shocked at the request, but Draco never acted this open, this excited. She had never seen him so young before. She’d do anything to preserve that happy look in his eyes, so she carefully kept her unease hidden. Even knowing about the boys being Dominos et Delicae, she hadn’t pictured either of them cross-dressing. It just wasn’t done, and she’d probably feel uncomfortable when she saw Harry in a dress. However, her son was asking her for this, and she wasn’t about to tell him no. What would it hurt? It’s not like Harry would be dressing like a girl where anyone else could see.
At least she now had a better idea about what had happened at her sisters, and as much as she hated Andromeda, she felt sympathy. Narcissa hadn’t warned her about the extent of the boys’ bond, so Andromeda had had no warning at all when she’d likely caught Harry putting on Nymphadora’s clothes. Internally, Narcissa winced, remembering vividly the horrible incident that one summer with Reggie.
Poor Reggie. He hadn’t even wanted to put on Bella’s dress. They had talked him into it the way children do, for fun, for a joke. Reggie, so much like Sirius - vivacious, playful, bright - had become so withdrawn and obedient after whatever his father had done to him. It still sent shivers down her spine. Her uncle’s hate-filled words echoed in her head to this day, “Boys. Don’t. Wear. Dresses!”
Looking at her young son, so excited and full of love, it about broke her heart knowing how the world would react to him being in love with a boy, a boy who liked to wear dresses apparently. Draco would be put through so much pain as he grew older because of this love, and she couldn’t bear to refuse him what joy he could have now.
“I know just where to go,” she told him, sharing his smile and trying to hide the tears in her eyes. “A beautiful little boutique in Paris. It’s such a lovely city. I’ll have Lucius get started on your passports right away, and we’ll spend the weekend there.”
Draco gave her a crooked smile and said, “Thanks!” Hopping off the couch, he ran out of the room.
Narcissa watched him go and quickly wiped at her eyes. She could not be weak. Not when her son still needed her. Now, how was she going to tell Lucius? Perhaps she could put it off a little while longer.
…
Draco was very careful and Harry suspected nothing as Wednesday and Thursday passed. Friday morning Lucius announced that their passports had arrived.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she told the boys, as if it were her own idea. “We’re going to take a family holiday to Paris this weekend.”
Draco shared a secret smile with her; she was a good ally to have.
“We will leave directly after your session with Severus,” Lucius added, sipping his breakfast tea.
Draco looked over at his boy, capturing and squeezing his hand. Harry was - calm - but when Draco grinned, unable to contain his excitement, it shifted to - curious happy. This was going to be fun!
…
Severus arrived at Malfoy Manor and brushed off his robe sleeves. The squeaky welcome from the House Elf was ignored, but he followed it up to Lucius’s office. He expected Lucius to interrogate him regarding Draco’s progress, but when he opened the office door, only the boy was inside.
Draco was standing next to one of the two chairs that were facing each other in front of Lucius’s desk. Those grey eyes immediately met and held his own. Crossing the distance without speaking, Severus sat in the second chair, ready to begin, but the boy did not join him. Instead, he remained standing, watching him intently.
“I’ve been thinking about what I saw in your mind,” Draco said softly. “There was no residue, so they couldn’t tell what happened or fix it, but it was clear she was altered,” he repeated. “Would you be able to tell if it did get passed on to Harry?”
“I am here for you lesson,” Severus told him coldly. “Please have a seat and we can begin.”
Draco sighed and took the seat, but he leaned forward, expression sharp. “I said some hard things after seeing your memories, but you have to understand you were threatening to separate me and Harry. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Eyes narrowed dangerously, Severus asked, “And if I could detect the spell and reverse it?”
“I’d let you,” Draco answered immediately. “Nothing would change. I love Harry, Snape. I love his obedience because its s a part of who he is. I love every part of him, and if he were to change and no longer need my dominance, then I would change to match. We’re bonded soul to soul, magic to magic, and mind to mind.” Sitting up, Draco asked again, “Do you really think he’s under a spell?”
Severus said nothing.
Expression calculating, Draco offered an explanation. “An Unspeakable who’s an expert in magical cores examined us. She noticed something black attached to Harry’s core. It didn’t seem to be effecting Harry, but it had a tether that couldn’t be broken. Do you think that could be the spell Lily was under?”
Severus grew interested in spite of himself. “Describe this.”
“It’s hard to explain,” Draco said wryly. Hooking his bangs behind his ears, he settled more firmly into the chair. “Look at my memory.”
Severus winced. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but if it was for Lily… Draco may have been right, cruel as he was, about his younger self. Severus had been weak and confused. He had struggled with the abuse at home and all the abuse at school, but he was not that child anymore.
Steeling himself, he cast the spell and pushed through Draco’s mind to grasp hold of the memory. Minutes later, he returned to reality, gasping and clutching at the arms of his chair to keep from being sick. It wasn’t that the memory was that terrible, it was just Draco’s memories were so vivid that they overwhelmed. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment. Draco gave him space to recover and waited patiently.
“It is hard to be sure. Harry is obedient, but is it because of this black form or his nature shaped by abuse?” Opening his eyes, he looked over at Draco curiously. “Has he ever been defiant to anyone?”
Draco grinned. “He’s told Lucius off.”
Severus lifted an eyebrow. “What occasioned the defiance?”
“He was protecting me. I was too out of it to do it myself,” the boy reluctantly admitted. “I was caught in a flashback.”
“Has he ever wanted something just for himself, with no connection to you?” Severus demanded.
Draco looked at him for a moment, expression guarded. “Yes. Just recently. He and Dora were together and I wasn’t with them. He wanted something just for himself.”
Severus leaned forward, desperate to know that Lily’s son had some piece of self not defined by others. “What was it?”
Draco shook his head.
Disappointed, Severus leaned back. “I have no way of knowing if he is or isn’t altered by the spell without examining his mind myself.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll think about it.”
Severus glared. “You said…”
“I know what I said.” Draco leaned back tiredly, his hair sliding out from behind his ears and curtaining his face. “But Harry would be very upset by you looking at his memories. He finds himself disgusting. I’m working on it, but you would trigger him. He’s already tried to kill himself a few times.”
Severus’s eyes widened in shock. “He’s tried to kill himself?”
Draco nodded, expression older than his years. “Yes. A few times.”
Severus was taken aback. To think of a child so young having attempted suicide multiple times… And there was the fact that the spell or potion Lily was under would never have allowed her to think of killing herself as long as her target lived. She had to be with him always, no matter what. That Harry would try to kill himself, even while Draco was alive, and even with their admittedly strong bond… Severus wasn’t sure he could even imagine what Harry’s mind must be like. It was a horrifying thought.
“Anyway, I’ve gotten the spell to the size of an orange.” Draco lifted his hands, creating a triangle by touching his thumbs and index fingers. Closing his eyes, he breathed out, casting, “Separanta Aeris.”
Severus could just make out the line where some air had been contained and separated from the rest of the air in the room. Draco was correct in his assessment. It was about the size of an orange. The goal was to achieve a sphere the size of a pea and then cast it on the memory instead of the air: “Separanta Memoria”. Casting at a memory made the spell metaphorical. It wouldn’t physically separate his brain. Draco merely needed the visual of actually separating air for practice. The fact that Draco had managed so much already - wandless and in only three sessions - was impressive.
They worked on the spell for another hour before Severus called a halt. The boy was pale, shaky, and his white blond hair stuck to his sweat-damp face. “I will return next week.”
“Why did you keep coming?” Draco asked hoarsely. “I knew you would, but I don’t understand why.”
“You would be mistaken to think you could understand me,” Severus answered darkly. “You are only seven years old. A child. I am twenty-seven and have seen and done things you can’t imagine.” Standing, he rolled his shoulders and looked down at the exhausted boy. “Consider allowing me access to Harry’s memories. I will be able to tell for certain if he is under a spell.” He didn’t wait for a response, instead turning and leaving without a backward glance.
…
Paris was incredible.
They arrived by portkey at the French Ministry of Magic, the International Travel department, and took a magical carriage to their hotel. Their rooms belonged in a palace. Lucius had booked the presidential suit, and it was three times larger than Andromeda’s apartment! Draco and Harry took one room, Lucius and Narcissa another, and there was still one empty bedroom, a living room, a dinning nook, an enormous bathroom, and a study. The windows in the living room were enormous and showed a spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower.
They washed up, rested, and had a late lunch before heading out into the city. Everyone spoke French around them, of course. It was bizarre not knowing what people were saying, but when asked to speak English, most people were able to, if with heavy accents. It made Draco reconsider learning French.
Their first stop was the Louvre. Of course, they went to the hidden wing for magical art first, but the Muggle art was just as spectacular. Draco was pretty ambivalent about art in general as it wasn’t very practical, but Harry loved beautiful things and was entranced. Harry could have spent days at the Louvre and been in heaven, and some of his enthusiasm rubbed off on Draco. Anything that made Harry that happy had worth in Draco’s eyes. They didn’t leave until the museum closed for the day, and they returned to their hotel for dinner.
“Tomorrow after breakfast we will go shopping. Paris has the best tailors, and we need some nice outfits for our reservations at an elegant restaurant tomorrow evening,” Narcissa explained. “And we must get you suitable outfits for when you have playdates with your peers.”
Lucius smiled indulgently at his wife. “I will attend a business brunch and leave the shopping to you. Shall we meet here at four to get ready for dinner?”
She returned his smile innocently. “That would be perfect, Lucius.”
…
The clothier was on a side street a few blocks from the Eiffel Tower. It had an unassuming store front, but the inside was the complete opposite of unassuming. It was quiet, the sounds of the city completely muffled. The walls were lined in gorgeous fabrics in all shades and colors. Display outfits of new and interesting fashions were arranged strategically throughout the room. The back had a stage-like platform and curtained-off rooms for changing, and in the center was a round booth-like circle of seats facing outward.
A man about Narcissa’s age came up to them with his arms outstretched. He wore black slacks, black shoes, a white button-up, and a purplish vest. He had pale yellow hair - thin and choppy to his shoulders - and pale grey/blue eyes. He had a smooth smile, and when he spoke his words were softly accented.
“Welcome, my dears. Welcome to Trancy’s Boy Clothing.” He took Narcissa’s hand and gently laid a kiss on her knuckles. “What can I do for you, Lady Malfoy?”
“We are here for the boys, of course.” She gestured to each in turn. “May I introduce to you my son, Draco, and my ward, Harry.”
Trancy bent at the waist, bowing to each. “Welcome, sirs.” Straightening, he gestured for them to follow and, grinning, he led them to one wall. “What colors spark your interests? What textures? I have several lovely styles that I believe will look divine on you.”
Harry followed after Draco, eyes huge - anticipation guilt excitement.
Draco, heart beating fast, took Harry’s hand and pulled him closer. Then he placed Harry’s hand on a roll of cloth. Harry gasped, but his fingers caressed the material with - guilty enjoyment.
Trancy smiled and encouraged them to explore. He handed them bolts of silk, chiffon, cotton, and other materials. Dark red, olive green, baby blue, violet, rose pink, eggshell yellow, fire red… and so many, many more colors. They were held up to their faces and draped along their arms to see what enhanced and complemented their skin tones.
By the second hour, the colors and patterns deemed suitable for them were decided on. Trancy was extremely excited as Harry revealed more and more of his tastes through Draco, who sensed what styles and articles made Harry’s - guilty desire - increase. Trancy called Harry’s style bold and high fashion and vogue, whatever that meant. However, when Harry stepped out of the dressing room, Draco had an idea what the man was talking about.
Harry’s head was ducked shyly, cheeks a flaming red as he stepped to the edge of the stage in front of Draco and Narcissa. - fear excitement doubt happy -
* Oh my god, * Draco muttered unknowingly across the bond. “You look incredible, Harry.”
Harry’s whole face turned red at this point, but his head came up. A nervous smile brushed his lips. “Really?”
“I love it,” Draco breathed, and as Trancy exclaimed in awe and spoke with Narcissa about unimportant details, he took his boy in.
Harry wore black tailored shorts with three tiny gold buttons running at an angle on the pockets. They were short, covering about three or four inches of Harry’s thin thighs. The shirt was made of white silk. The sleeves were a little loose and created a handkerchief type look falling just past his wrists. Over that he wore a green vest with black vertical lines. The vest was open at the chest and had four black buttons holding it closed over his stomach, subtly emphasizing Harry’s small waist.
At his neck, a big black ribbon was tied in a large droopy bow. A maroon overcoat with tailored sleeves and a wide collar went over it all. The coat’s sleeves were shorter than the undershirt, allowing the white silk to come out several inches. The coat fell just short of Harry’s knees and was pleated in the back, giving it flare.
It was cute as hell, but that wasn’t even the best part. Harry wore some type of black silk stockings that went up to mid-thigh, highlighting about two inches of bare skin between the top of the stocking and the bottom of the shorts. Harry had also put on brown, knee-high boots. They laced up the front with maroon ribbon that perfectly matched his overcoat and had about two inches on the heel, putting Harry at Draco’s height, allowing him to look straight into Draco’s eyes. Draco couldn’t take it. He jumped up onto the stage.
Harry’s eyes widened. His red lips parted as his pupils dilated - nervous pleasure love.
Draco brushed his thumb against Harry’s lower lip, but his eyes never lift the thin stripe of bare skin on Harry’s thigh. He gently caressed the boy’s thighs, loving the feeling of Harry’s soft skin under his fingertips and the transition to the black silk.
“We’re keeping this one,” Draco said softly, eyes burning into Harry’s.
Harry nodded, helpless under that heated gaze - submission happy. “Yes, Draco.”
Grinning, eyes fierce, Draco said, “Good.” He gave the boy’s thigh one last caress with this thumb. “Now let’s see the next one.”
Harry practically scrambled back into the changing room.
Draco laughed, heart beating hard and free, and returned to his seat with Narcissa. He noticed her cheeks were flushed and she looked uncomfortable. A glance to the side showed Trancy was staring at him speculatively. Draco lifted his chin and raised an eyebrow, silently daring the man to say something. Instead, Trancy wisely decided to look for more clothes for Harry to try on.
In the end, Harry tried on five more outfits. Of those, Draco chose the first maroon coat, a blue day coat that had a large black bow on the back at the waist and fell past the knee, a tweed jacket that was waist long and had a popped up collar, and a dark red blazer that fell to Harry’s hips. He also chose (with Harry’s unknowing guidance) several vests - the first green one with stripes, a paler green with no pattern, a maroon with tiny black four-petaled flowers, and the last a plain deep blue. With them, he also chose four shorts. They all fell mid-thigh or slightly shorter. He also picked a few silk button-up undershirts and three pairs of shoes: the knee-high boots, a two-inch high black ankle boot, and more conservative black loafers. Finally, he chose a few black stockings and neckties. A few of the ties were thin and some thick, but they all tied in a bow.
Draco chose considerably less for himself. He picked two shorts that fell just above his knee - one in black, the other in dark grey - several belts with a few different silver buckles, a white, short-sleeved shirt, and a few neckties in a couple colors that knotted at the throat with a tail. Harry also chose for him three sweater vests in blue, green, and red. Harry also picked one day coat. It was a dark blue that was nearly black, and it fell just short of Draco’s hips, had two rows of big gold buttons down the front. Its sleeves fell just past his elbows, the cuffs wide and bright red. Draco didn’t get any shoes. He stubbornly insisted on keeping his sneakers.
Of course, they didn’t see Narcissa pay, just as Draco had asked. They simply took their boxes, thanked Trancy for his time and attention, and left the store. While Harry was distracted balancing the three boxes he’d been asked to carry, Draco asked Narcissa in a whisper how much they’d spent, just for reference.
“Just short of nine hundred galleons,” she whispered back.
Draco thought about that, doing the math slowly in his head. By his estimate one galleon equaled seven dollars. It took him the entire walk back to the hotel before he was sure of his multiplication, but - by his estimate - they had spent over six thousand American dollars.
“Go relax, but be ready for dinner in an hour and a half. Wear one of your new outfits to show Lucius,” Narcissa told them happily.
Dazed, Draco helped Harry take the boxes to their room.
“What should I wear tonight?” Harry asked quietly - excited guilt confusion. He was already going through the boxes, laying out his new clothes. He felt bad because he didn’t deserve them, but he really liked them, and Draco really liked them, and he just didn’t know what to feel at this point.
“The first one,” Draco said immediately. It had certainly made an impression on him.
Harry flushed and laid all the pieces of the outfit out. Hands stilling as he gazed down at the beautiful clothes, he looked up at Draco. His confusion fell way. He knew exactly what to feel - gratitude awe LOVE.
Draco froze as pure love - powerful and unconditional - nearly drowned him through the bond.
“Thank you, Draco,” Harry whispered, eyes nearly fever bright behind his glasses. “Thank you for the clothes, and shopping, and doing all this.”
Draco opened his mouth to tell him it wasn’t him, that it was Narcissa, but Harry shook his head.
“I know it was you,” Harry whispered. He stepped away from the bed and wrapped Draco into a warm hug. “I know it was you. You always take care of me.”
Draco wrapped his arms around his boy, one hand sinking into Harry’s thick hair and holding on tight. “I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, throat tight and tears stinging his eyes.
Harry lay his lips on Draco’s throat. His breath was warm and moist against Draco’s skin. “I love you… Please… Please let me… Please, Draco… Let me take care of you…”
Draco nodded his head, and Harry smiled - joy excitement pleasure LOVE - bursting through the bond like sunrise.
Harry slowly, carefully, began to undress him. Draco watched unblinking, his eyes molten silver as he watched his boy move. Once Draco was naked, Harry quickly stripped out of his clothes. He took Draco’s hand and led him to the bathroom. He had Draco sit on a towel at the edge of the tub while he got the water warm and put some lavender oil in it. Soon enough the tub was full and steam was rising from the surface. Draco slipped in and Harry knelt on the outside.
Harry reverently ran the soft rag over Draco’s scarred, pale skin. He adored Draco - his strength, his unbending will, his fierce love, and he had no idea what to do with all the love he felt. Tears rolled down Harry’s cheeks, but he kept his hand steady and his breathing even. Heart beating fast, he gently rinsed Draco’s body and then began to wash his silky hair.
Draco closed his eyes and let his boy work. He drifted on a wave of hazy pleasure, every muscle relaxing and all thoughts drifting away. His eyes opened when Harry’s hands disappeared and didn’t return. Seeing Harry kneeling by the tub, waiting for instruction, face tear-stained… Draco’s heart seemed to expand in his too-tight chest.
He reached out and cupped the boy’s chin. “Get in, Harry.”
Harry obeyed, cheeks red - love NEED.
Draco dropped Harry’s glasses on the floor beside the tub and, never breaking eye contact, began to wash Harry’s body. * I love you, * Draco said softly into the boy’s receptive mind. * You were so beautiful today. You’re such a good boy, taking care of me, * he praised, pulling Harry into his lap, facing him.
Harry moaned and gave himself up wholly into Draco’s control.
Draco grabbed his boy firmly by the back of the neck, the black collar pressing into his palm. He tipped Harry back into the lukewarm water, soaking his hair, before pulling him up again. As he lathered his hands and sank them into the black, messy mop, Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s.
Harry moaned again. His lips parted and Draco’s tongue thrust inside, claiming every inch. Hot and throbbing between his legs, Harry trembled and gasped. Draco pressed him back and this time he was pressed under the water.
Draco followed him down, lying on top of him under the water. He kissed and sucked and bit at Harry’s swollen lips. Draco’s hips began to rock, rubbing up against Harry’s sensitive member. The water began to slosh gently against the sides of the tub. Harry was lost in all the sensations.
Draco broke the surface, gasped in air, and dove under again to continue the underwater kiss.
Harry arched, lungs on fire - need submission. Every fear, every doubt, every dark thing inside him burst apart as Draco held him down. He was Draco’s completely in that moment. Literally nothing else mattered. Harry/Draco/the world was perfect for a crystalized moment in time, and Harry felt his whole body shudder through a shared orgasm.
He must have blacked out. When he opened his eyes, he was coughing and hanging over the side of the tub. Draco was pressed against his back, hand tight in his hair, holding his head up. Warm kisses mixed with soft bites trailed over his shoulder. His whole body tingled with after shocks. He was floating… He was free…
- peace lovelovelove -
…
Lucius stepped out of the bedroom, Narcissa still putting the finishing touches on her hair behind him. She was beautiful in a dark red, floor-length dress, her pale throat exposed, and graceful hands moving amid her golden hair. Distracted by that image, he didn’t at first notice the boys, but when he did, he froze.
Draco was sitting sideways on the arm of the couch in a sharp, stylish new outfit - dark blue jacket with three-quarter sleeves and wide red cuffs - grey sweater with a wide, low neck - white button up and red tie - long black shorts - black ankle socks and dress shoes. He looked very sharp, but it was Harry who stopped him in his tracks. The boy stood in front of Draco, looking down at his son since Draco was sitting, and his outfit… It defied classification.
Narcissa came up behind him. Her hand rested lightly on his arm. He looked over at her, speechless, but she simply smiled at him. Calling the boys to attention, she led the way to the restaurant. Lucius kept pace, his expression blank, but inside his mind was spinning. He kept shooting glances at the black-haired boy behind them.
The top half of the boy’s outfit was perfectly acceptable, but the bottom half… The silk stockings and the knee high boots laced with ribbon and two inch heels! And most especially the slip of pale skin between the top of the stockings and the bottom of the shorts… He was shocked Draco would allow the boy out dressed like that. Especially considering their pasts, but Draco looked happy and smug.
Narcissa, the perfect host, was able to create a pleasant atmosphere even with Lucius’s minimal participation. He hardly even noticed the restaurant’s lavish and elegant decor - the golden chandeliers, fine linen, and crystal statuary. However, he began to relax by the third course. He’d noticed several admiring glances aimed their way - the waiter had even asked Narcissa where she had purchased the boys’ clothes - and he was able to relax.
The French were known for their bold fashion statements, and the clothes were remarkably well made. Fortunately, the boy’s shy, humble demeanor prevented it from being too provocative. In fact, upon further reflection, Lucius could even appreciate the strategy of it all. Harry’s fame would protect him to some degree, but his timid nature would eventually make him a target. Dressing boldly would create a wonderful distraction that would hide his nature a bit longer. The safer Harry was, the safer their son would be.
With a resigned sigh, he lifted his wine glass and saluted his wife. She smiled, lips blood red to match her dress, and he tipped his head, impressed with her cunning.
Chapter end.
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Freedom Bound in Chains