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
- 93
- 94
- 95
A/n: Not sure how many of you will be interested, but I made a few changes to the first few pages of the last chapter. Fixed some typos, added more details, and rearranged a few things that felt awkward. No huge changes, but hopefully it’s a smoother read and gives better insight into Harry’s mindset. Those of you who read the chapter later in the week after I posted, you probably already read the edited version. Sorry for the confusion!
A/n 2: I want to thank a fan who was open to helping me with the Dumbledore confrontation as well as helping me when I struggled with Remus’s character development. DedicatedReader842 you were instrumental to getting my head on straight and this chapter out. THANK YOU!!
…
Dumbledore and Remus
“I just don’t understand why you would want to speak to that man!” Andromeda’s arms were crossed tightly under her chest and she stood blocking the fireplace with her body. Gone were the big smiles and hugs of when they had first arrived. “He should be prosecuted for using children in his care as bait! We need to go to the papers!”
“You’re being hysterical,” Draco cut in coldly. “The Stone was bait not us.” He turned and faced her head-on, expression defiant. “I want to talk to him before I decide what I want to do about it. I need to know what he was thinking.”
“He clearly wasn’t thinking at all!” Andromeda glared fiercely. “He put your lives in danger! He knew there was a risk to you and, instead of moving to get rid of it, he set up trials for YOU! Did you not hear me, Draco? Those ‘challenges’ were never meant to keep the traitor from the Stone. They were meant for you and Harry!”
“Which makes sense if you think about it!” Draco snapped back, frustrated. “If we were held up by the challenges he created, then we wouldn't be strong enough to face the traitor and would have been kept safely away. And if we could get through them, then we had a chance to stop the traitor once and for all and destroy the Stone. The stupid bastard swore a vow that prevented him from destroying it himself and none of his other flunkies would do it, so of course he had to depend on us.”
“THAT’S INSANE!” Andromeda screamed at him, arms flailing wide. “You could have DIED! Harry almost died, Draco! You two had no business anywhere near the Stone or a dangerous man like Quirrell! I’m shocked you would take Harry’s safety so lightly!”
Draco’s eyes flashed dangerously and Harry, who had been sitting on the couch with little Dee watching the argument like a tennis match, rose. He gently took ahold of her skirt and looked up at her with big, green eyes.
“While Draco’s getting information,” he said innocently, purposefully phrasing it so that it would remind her that more information was never a bad thing, especially to a Slytherin like Andromeda. “I was wondering if you’d help me write a statement about what happened before I forget the details. Just in case we need it later. If we do go to the papers, it’s important we have the story straight. I know you’ll help me word it just right.”
Draco had to fight back a smirk, impressed with Harry’s cunning. * Good boy, * he practically purred.
- happy amused - Harry’s cheeks warmed with blood, but otherwise his expression didn’t move from the innocent, wide-eyed mask he’d put on to convince Andromeda to go with him.
Andromeda huffed. She knew she was being manipulated, by flattery and by the promise of more information, but that didn’t make her immune to Harry’s puppy-eyes. The truth was she was dying to know exactly what happened that night. She still hadn’t been given any of the details.
“Fine.” She gave Draco a cold look, but she moved away from the fireplace. “Do what you want.” She took Harry’s hand and led him out of the room.
Ted moved to the couch and lifted a wide-eyed Dee onto his hip. He’d been standing in the doorway, an anxious expression on his face, but now he gave Draco a warm smile. “Be safe.”
Draco nodded and threw the floo powder onto the fire. “Headmaster’s office, Hogwarts.” He had to wait only five minutes or so before Dumbledore’s office came into view, the old man coming to stand attentively before the fireplace. Draco didn’t wait for him to speak. “Let me come through.”
Dumbledore lifted an eyebrow, his faded blue eyes peering over the straight edge of his glasses. “Of course, my boy.”
Draco felt the pressure change and stepped through. Dumbledore’s office looked the same as it always did. Layers of busy rugs in deep colors. Shelves of books. Stairs leading up to the Headmaster’s apartment. Dozens of huge paintings covering almost every inch of the stone walls above their heads. Fawkes’s metal perch and the flame-red bird sitting on top. A huge, ornate desk with gyrating and glowing instruments surrounding it. Without a word, Draco moved to the desk and took a seat in one of the armchairs there.
Dumbledore mirrored him, but he sat on the other side of his desk across from Draco. “How’s Harry?” he asked carefully.
Draco, at least, looked well enough. He wore a blue peacoat, over a long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and his sneakers. His hair was a little oilier than normal and hung around his cheeks in slightly stringy strands, but his eyes were bright and alert and he moved with the easy grace of a child.
“Tired, but he’s okay,” Draco answered honestly.
They sat quietly for a moment, just observing each other. Dumbledore’s face was creased and wrinkled, his hands were age-spotted, his body was slender and tall. With his love of strange color combinations, he seemed like a harmless old man. Even now he wore pale-peach robes with dark red carnations down the front and along the bottom hem. It was hard to feel threatened by a man wearing big red flowers, but that just proved Dumbledore was crafty as hell. He knew how to work his image and downplay the power - both political and magical - at his disposal.
Draco braced his elbow on the arm of the chair and casually leaned his cheek against his hand. “What’d you tell the police?”
“The Aurors, and I told them truth. Mostly,” Dumbledore answered quietly. “Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort’s spirit and tried to steal the Sorcerer’s Stone that I was protecting for my good friend. Fortunately, Remus caught on to the nefarious scheme and acted to protect the Stone. In the ensuing battle, Quirrell was killed, Voldemort’s spirit fled, and the Stone was destroyed.”
Draco snorted, slouching in his chair. “Why keep our names out of it?”
Dumbledore cast the young boy across from him a deep frown. “I don’t believe the world is ready to know to what lengths you’ll go to win.” He folded his hands on his desk, looking more tired than ever before. “When I suspected you and Harry would go after the Stone, I did my best to create a favorable arena. I had no idea Voldemort was possessing Quirrell or that the danger was so great. It was never my intention for you to do battle without help close at hand. For that, I am deeply sorry, my boy.”
Draco cocked an eyebrow, honestly confused. He used his hands to hook his hair behind his ears and sat forward. “I don’t see how it could have gone any other way. Of course Quirrell was going to make sure you and the other teachers weren’t around. And even if he wasn’t possessed, he was an adult wizard. It’s to be expected he’d try to kill us.”
“Wizards aren’t usually so competent,” Dumbledore corrected, voice soft. “I knew he might hurt you if you were to get in his way, but actual murder… That is more rare than you would think. I had every confidence that I would be able to intervene before it escalated to that point.”
Draco shook his head and scooted to the edge of his seat. “I get that you couldn’t destroy the Stone, so you were kind of hoping we would do it for you, but why didn’t you create a way for us to get to the Stone without coming into contact with Quirrell at all?”
Dumbledore sighed. He took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. When he spoke, his tone was regretful. “Sooner than I’d like, the war will start again. You and Harry will be in the thick of it, and I want to make sure you are as prepared as possible. Every battle you face will make you stronger.”
At Draco’s unconvinced look, Dumbledore continued, staring intently into Draco’s eyes. “I did not ask you to go after the Stone, but you and Harry ended up there regardless. Yes, I made preparations because I suspected you would eventually be involved in the fight, but I did not encourage your participation. I fully believe that this event was fated to prepare you for something much more difficult later.”
“Of course we got involved,” Draco sneered in disgust. “It wasn’t fate or destiny or anything like that. It was logic! You made sure no one else would do anything about it, not you or the teachers or Flamel. So who else was gonna? We were on our fucking own, so of course we had to do something about it. Or do you think I’m stupid enough to let our greatest enemy walk off with something like the Sorcerer’s Stone?”
“My boy,” Dumbledore began, voice tender.
Draco slammed his hand on the desk with an angry glare. “Shut up, old man. You’ve said enough. It’s my turn.” He stood slowly and leaned forward, putting his weight on his hands that were pressed flat to the desk. “If I had not woken up when I did, Harry would be dead and Voldemort would have the Stone, so let me give you some motivation to do better.” Draco’s eyes glinted a dangerous silver. The Dark aura of his magic flared, making several instruments next to them spin wildly. “If Harry dies because of the Wizarding World, Voldemort will be the least of your problems,” he promised, voice thick and full of threat.
Dumbledore leaned back, eyes wide. Fawkes gave a musical cry, but he was ignored. “Draco, I understand your feelings, but evil is never the answer. You would turn the world against you. You would cause everyone who loves you to suffer. Would you really wish for such acts to be done in Harry’s name?”
Draco stared at the old man for a moment and then laughed. It was a true laugh, full of mirth. He stood straight, abandoning the intimidating posture. “You really don’t understand, do you?” He shook his head. “Oh, well. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Dumbledore said nothing. He was disturbed by this child. Disturbed by the boy’s conviction and readiness to become evil. Disturbed by his blatant disrespect and lack of gratitude. Dumbledore had protected him from the authorities, and Draco had received no punishment for blatantly breaking school rules again and again. In fact, as Dumbledore stared across his desk into cold grey eyes, he was reminded of another student from long ago. Except there were two big differences between them.
One, Tom Riddle had kept his sadistic and power-hungry nature hidden behind sweet smiles and charm while Draco wore his ruthlessness on his sleeve for all the world to see. Two, Draco loved Harry wholly and completely with all his heart. The fierceness of that love was dangerous, but it was also salvation. Tom had known nothing of love. Dumbledore wasn’t even sure the boy had been capable of the emotion, so Dumbledore was banking hard on the fact that Draco’s ability to love would eventually save him.
A chill went down Dumbledore spine as he remembered another power-mad teen, a teen who had started his quest from a place of love for the world, which had eventually morphed into obsession and tyranny. A man who, unlike Tom, had been able to love and was loved in return, but love had not saved Gellert.
Dumbledore’s heart constricted painfully, his arm tingling as a very heavy grief surged up from his soul. Because maybe love would have saved him had Dumbledore not been afraid to act on that love. Maybe things would have gone differently.
Dumbledore still remembered with painful clarity the night he and Gellert had finally given in to their feelings. Merlin, he’d never felt so whole or alive. It was indescribable! But his brother and sister had walked in on them entwined and sharing passionate kisses. It had lead to a horrific duel, Gellert fighting for them, Dumbledore too terrified to act, and Ariana… Merlin, Ariana… She had tried to stop Aberforth and Gellert. She had stepped in the path of their spells…
Dumbledore’s hands went numb as he remembered her broken body falling. Gellert had looked at him, eyes wide and frantic, pleading… but Dumbledore had stood paralyzed. He’d made no move to reach out or speak and Gellert had turned away, rejected and alone. Dumbledore never saw him again until years later when news of a Dark Wizard on the continent began to spread. By then, Gellert was no longer the wizard Dumbledore had once loved. Dumbledore blinked the tears from his eyes and refocused on the present, realizing Draco had asked him something.
Draco lifted an eyebrow. “You okay?”
Dumbledore gave a weak smile. “Yes. Sorry, my boy. My mind wandered off for a moment. What did you say?”
“I asked if you’d recovered a cloak? It belongs to Harry.”
“Ah, yes. James Potter’s invisibility cloak.” Dumbledore opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out the silvery material. He handed it to Draco.
The boy felt it in his hands, an innocent look of curiosity on his face as he made his lap disappear and reappear. It made Dumbledore smile. Yes, Draco reminded him both of Tom and Gellert, but he was also radically different. He had the one thing that both of those warlords lacked: a lover to stand at his side and hopefully channel all that passion and talent toward something more positive for the world. Draco was not yet lost to the Light.
After a few minutes of examining the magical item, Draco looked up and made eye contact once more. “I’d like to speak to Remus. And after that Ron and Percy. I also need to get a few things from our room.”
“Of course.” Dumbledore stood and gestured with his arm to the door. “Remus is still in the Infirmary recovering. I will be here should you need anything else.”
Draco nodded. He folded the cloak carefully over his arm and stood. He gave Dumbledore one more look before heading for the door. The Headmaster was like a child, caught up in fantasies and ideals, unable to fully understand the harsh truth of reality, but there was nothing Draco could do about that. He’d just have to keep an eye on him and make sure Dumbledore was working in line with his plans.
...
Remus’s dreams were watery and unclear, glimpses of unrelated images, but then something touched his hair and it felt like an anchor. With a soft groan, he cracked blurry eyes open. It was early, only an hour or two past dawn. The light streaming in through the windows still had a golden cast. Rolling his head to the side, he found Draco sitting beside his hospital bed, stroking his hair. Adrenaline kicked through his system and suddenly Remus was wide awake.
Draco gave him a small smile and asked, “How are you?”
“I’ll recover,” Remus answered softly. He made restless moves, but he couldn’t sit up while Draco was holding him down by the gentle touch on his head. Fortunately, Draco understood what he wanted and lifted his hand away. With a relieved smile, Remus put his back to the wall and was able to talk more easily. “How’s Harry?”
“Awake.” Draco tilted his head slightly, as if curious. The way he narrowed his eyes had Remus swallowing nervously. “We talked.”
Remus fisted the sheet at his hip. Sweat began to form on his upper lip in spite of the cool temperature of the room. He began to get the sense that he was in trouble and he frowned. He’d done everything he could, even landed himself in the infirmary, to protect Harry! What could Draco possibly be upset about?
Draco saw the stiffness of Remus’s posture and sighed. He sat back in his chair, putting a little more distance between them. “Thank you. For helping Harry. Getting the serum and fighting Quirrell.”
Remus gave a smile, felt the deep scars in his cheeks pull. “Of course. After everything we’ve been through, we’re family.” He was surprised to find it feeling awkward and untrue on his tongue. His frown deepened. “We’re pack.” That felt way more accurate and he unconsciously relaxed at hearing it said out loud. They were a pack.
Draco sighed and drummed his fingers along his knee. He said nothing. He just continued to stare, a frown on his face.
A surge of frustration nearly overwhelmed Remus, Draco’s silence feeling like rejection. “What more do you want me to do to prove myself?” he snapped, louder than he really intended. Embarrassed, he ducked his head, knuckles white around his grip on the blankets.
Draco’s hand came into view and covered his shaking fist. “We’re a pack,” he said, taking the sting away from his previous silence. “But we’re not quite family.”
Remus flinched at Draco’s gentle tone. He couldn’t bare to lift his head and meet Draco’s eyes. “No. I don’t suppose we are.”
“Maybe we could be, but you still don’t understand us, Remus.” Draco took his hand away, body language shifting and forcing Remus to lift his head and notice.
Remus felt a chill go down his spine as he looked into Draco’s face. It was as if there were an invisible wall between them and it hurt. He wanted to lash out at it, but he immediately shoved that feeling down. Taking a breath, he forced himself still, forced himself to be calm, to be in control. It was a technique he’d used all his life.
He’d always been afraid to be seen as aggressive or wild, always hiding the wolf inside, which led to his reputation for being mild-mannered and gentle. Only James, Peter, and… Well, only they knew that under the calm surface, ferocity churned restlessly. Voice mild, he said, “It takes time to understand someone. You and Harry have been through a lot. It’s not something other people can understand easily.”
Draco flashed Remus a furious glare. “That right there. You retreat. You give up. That’s why we’re not family. You don’t trust us. Not really. So of course we’re not going to let you in.”
Remus felt his heart pound in his throat, but what he said was a soft, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
The blond slammed his hand down on the bed, the impact making a soft whomp. “Look at me.”
Draco was standing now, eye level with Remus. His tone of voice was commanding and low. It was impossible for Remus to disobey. The sweat rolled down the back of his neck. Draco’s eyes had gone silver. Remus wanted to cower, to show his neck and belly, but he was held frozen by Draco’s furious glare.
“Since you can’t bring yourself to really connect, let me spoon-feed it to you,” his Alpha said coldly.
Draco stood tall, shoulders back, in a blue coat, white t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His blond hair was tucked behind his ears. On the surface, he was just a child, but his eyes and unyielding expression made him so much more than that. Remus unconsciously leaned away from him, eyes wide.
“The way you handled Harry in the potion room was unacceptable. You told yourself it was to protect him, but then you deliberately ignored the signs that Harry wasn’t reacting well. You prioritized the war over Harry’s mental health.” Draco leaned forward, closing the gap slightly between them. He was very aware of Remus’s quickened breathing, the way the blood seemed to have drained from the man’s face, and he smiled dangerously. “Well, listen up, Remus. Had I not taken steps in advance, Harry would have taken the poison you left him with and killed himself right there. You would have been fighting for a corpse cold on the floor.”
Remus gasped. “What… Why?”
Draco practically snarled at him. “If you haven’t noticed, Harry’s mental health is still uncertain. If I hadn't intervened, he would have killed himself at least half a dozen times by now. It’s because I take care of him that he’s alive today. You cannot assume ‘he’ll get over it’ or ‘I’ll talk to him later’. He isn't a spoiled teenager who’s throwing a tantrum. It’s more serious than that. Harry has to fight every day to believe that he deserves to be alive, that he isn’t a plague to everyone around him.”
Draco’s attention was laser sharp. He knew he had to break through the wall that Remus had always kept between himself and everyone else, even Harry and him. Draco could no longer afford the man to hold back. Not if they were going to fight side-by-side. Not when Remus may have contact with Harry without Draco’s supervision. So he grabbed Remus’s hair in a tight fist, leaning over the edge of the hospital bed and getting in his face.
“You told Harry that he couldn’t help in this war, not just right then with the Stone, but ever. You created a future where Harry was helpless and, if he tried to help, he’d only put himself at risk, which would hurt me. You created a future where people, where I, fought for him and he had to sit back and watch while those people got hurt or even killed.”
Draco spoke with such fury that Remus literally whimpered.
Breathing hard, Draco released his hold on the man’s hair and stood straight. It wasn’t his intention to hurt him; he just wanted Remus to truly understand. Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the man through cold grey eyes. “Harry sees it as his fault, you know. In that moment, he was guilty for the suffering of hundreds, and the only way to stop that cycle, stop that horrible future, was to take himself out of the picture.”
“I was trying to protect him,” Remus argued, voice shaky but finding strength now that Draco didn’t have a physical hold on him. “What was I supposed to do? Quirrell almost killed me! If I hadn’t gone first, then…”
Draco threw up his hands, visibly frustrated. “You saved him. I know you did, but you handled it wrong. Next time don’t tell Harry what ‘not’ to do. Tell him what ‘to’ do. Give him a task. He isn’t a glass vase to sit on a shelf and be protected. He’s perfectly capable of assisting and participating in this war. You can’t expect him to have faith in himself if you don’t have faith in him first!”
“Draco, there wasn’t time… and the fire… I couldn’t possibly have known…” Remus explained, defensive.
“You make time!” Draco yelled. In his fury, his hand lashed out and firmly gripped Remus’s throat just below his jaw.
Startled, Remus froze. Draco’s hand was small. Too small to get a good grip or keep him from breathing, but Remus could feel it there. His whole body went limp, the wolf inside him screaming - Submit! -
“Enough with the excuses and reasons why you did nothing wrong,” Draco snarled, face inches from Remus’s. “I don’t fucking care about that anymore! I just want to make sure it doesn’t happen again!”
Draco relaxed his grip, aware of Remus’s sudden submission. It was clear in his eyes which had dilated and watched him with a calm acceptance. The way the man’s arms had gone loose beside him, no longer fisting the blankets. The way Remus’s breathing had deepened and slowed. The way his head tilted slightly to offer more of his throat. Draco couldn’t help responding to that body language. He let out a breath and let his anger go, his hand sliding to rest at the base of Remus’s throat, no longer gripping.
“Look, if were going to be a family, we have to act like it. That starts with trust. We need to trust you with our very lives and you have to trust us with yours. You’ve got to show us what you’re really thinking and feeling and you’ve got to respect our needs and really care about what we care about. It’s a give and take that’s missing. I don’t expect you to be perfect, but I expect us to talk, really talk, and understand where each other stand. Like this for example.” Draco put a little pressure on his hand. “What’s happening here?”
Remus struggled to gather his thoughts. He waited for Draco to let him go, but the blond didn’t this time. He kept his hand resting on his throat. “It’s the wolf,” he admitted. “I was concerned when I broke out of the Shrieking Shack on the full moon after Samhain. I could have hurt someone. So I did some digging. Apparently, when you and Harry were at the lake, you were close enough for the wolf to sense while I was transformed and felt compelled to break out and go to you. I suspect my wolf sees you as its alpha. I think because of something that happened in the faerie realm.”
“Alpha?” Draco asked, eyes narrowed. “What does that mean exactly?”
“I have the push of the wolf’s instincts regardless of the moon, but I feel this most strongly.” Remus blushed. Even though he’d come to understand the wolf was a part of him and he’d been mediating and working on accepting that, it was still hard for him to admit how close the animal sat to the surface. Some days he didn’t know if he should even be trying to accept the wolf, but it was undeniable that he was less violent when he transformed the more he worked on it. “I want to follow your lead. I want to help you and watch out for Harry. I want to do violence to anything that threatens you.”
Draco frowned. His hand fell away completely and he even gave Remus more space.
Remus was shocked by the blond’s retreat. “I thought you’d like it.”
“Do you like it?” Draco asked back. “It took you two weeks to write me back when I sent you the letter asking for help. Harry told me what your letter said. You were busy researching this, right? You were probably frantic.”
Remus blinked. He had been, actually. He’d been terrified that his wolf had gotten stronger, enough to break out of the heavily warded Shrieking Shack for the first time, but then he realized his wolf wasn’t stronger. It had just been giving a boost of strength because it was responding the call of his alpha. It wasn’t likely to happen again as long as he holed up somewhere far away from Hogwarts the night of the full moon.
As for how strong he reacted to Draco when he wasn’t transformed, he had to admit it was unsettling. As much as he respected Draco’s intelligence, he found it concerning to follow an eleven-year-old child, but he’d come to terms with that as well. Hadn’t he? He certainly couldn’t change it and he didn’t want to leave the boys, so…
“Look,” Draco said again. Grey eyes seemed to pierce straight through to his soul and Remus held his breath. “I’m going to be blunt, okay? I want you to understand that for me submission is very serious. I’m okay with you submitting to me, but you’re not like Harry who chose me and takes comfort from submitting. You had these feelings put on you. So unless you are willing to be in this one hundred percent, I think it would be best if we don’t see each other anymore.”
Remus immediately shook his head, terror washing through his system. He found himself on his knees on the bed, having moved before he’d even realized it. It put his head above Draco’s by about a foot and that made him uneasy, but he ignored that and reached out. “No… Draco… I…”
Draco sighed and touched the wrist of the hand Remus held out stretched. He stroked Remus’s arm in a soothing motion. “I’m not rejecting you. You are not being punished,” he said as clearly and calmly as he could, looking into Remus’s wide eyes.
The words were like magic and some of Remus’s instinctual panic drained away. Remus blinked at the young alpha, shocked Draco knew how to take care of his needs before Remus even fully understood what he was feeling himself. His thighs had begun to ache painfully. He winced. Draco waited, still stroking his arm, as he got into a comfortable position sitting at the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. It made them more eye-level, too, which helped calm him down.
In the same soothing tone, Draco continued. “I can see this is a strong impulse. I can also see you don’t fully understand or want these feelings. I can’t be sure I won’t pressure you or know what orders you’re compelled to follow. Not as it is now.”
Remus again opened his mouth to protest, but Draco’s stroking hand gripped his wrist and shook it gently, making him shut up and listen.
“So this is what I want you to do. I’m going to have to insist actually.” Draco stared intently into Remus’s eyes. “I need you to go away. To the place you go when you transform that’s not near here. I know you got a place after Samhain, so you breaking out wouldn't happen again.”
Again Remus was impressed with Draco’s perception.
“Go there and really, really think about this. You need to decide if you’re okay with submitting to me, if you actually want it and it’s not something to just endure. If you’re not comfortable with submitting, then don’t come back. You can make a clean break or, if you feel like it can work, we can communicate through letters. Nod your head if you understand.”
Remus nodded.
“Okay. Good.” Draco gave him a small smile. “If you feel like you’re okay with submitting, then you’re going to have to do your research. I want you to go to London and find a BDSM club. Talk to doms and subs. Explain to them that you aren’t sure about the lifestyle, but that you think you want to be a sub. Learn what you can and then come back to me and we’ll talk about it together. We’ll make up a set of rules, like a contract, to make sure we both understand what each other expect and need. Okay?”
Remus’s face had turned red as soon as Draco had said the letters BDSM. “I don’t want to have sex with you!” he blurted.
Draco scowled in annoyance. “I hope you heard the rest of what I had to say, but good to know. BDSM doesn’t have to involve sex. It often does because sex is a primal instinct that drives most people. Even taking sex out of the equation, that group will still give you the best understanding of dominance and submission. Besides, I practice BDSM with Harry. I’m a dom. So if you really want to make this work, it’d be better if you understood.”
Remus was still red in the face.
Draco sighed. “Look. BDSM just means I will need you to be very open with me. You’ll need to be comfortable with exposing everything you think and feel. Because I can’t be your alpha if I don’t understand what you’re okay with and what you’re struggling with. That means you can’t run away from our connection anymore. You can’t hold yourself back and be supportive from the outside like you have been up until know. No sex doesn’t make it any less intimate.”
Draco suddenly reached forward and fisted Remus’s hair, forcing the man to tilt his head and expose his neck. Not that Remus resisted. His mind was spinning from all the information, but all that came to a screeching halt as Draco put more steel in his voice.
“Go, Remus. Think about what this alpha thing really means for you. Do your research. Then we’ll talk. Really talk. I don’t want to see or hear from you until this is done. If you don’t do what I say, I’m going to be very angry. Do you understand?”
Remus nodded even though it made the grip on his hair painful.
Draco gave Remus a genuine smile. “Good.” He released him, turned, and walked out without another word, giving Remus the space he’d promised.
“What just happened?” Remus asked the empty room, blinking.
Chapter end.
A/N: Remus was giving me a lot of trouble this chapter. I hope you guys like how it unfolded. I want to try and bridge the gap between the Remus of canon and what he’s evolving to here in the Freedom series. Please let me know what you think? If the scene felt natural or forced? Also can you picture Remus in a BDSM club?! XD
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Freedom Bound in Chains