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The Discipline of Dragons	By : ShadowFiend Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 15474 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters, settings, etc. therein. All such imaginary output belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter List
- 1-The Discipline of Dragons
- 1
The Discipline of Dragons

Disclaimer: All rights to Harry Potter – its characters, settings, etc. – belong to J.K. Rowling. I do not make any money from the use of her imaginary output.

Note: I was vaguely inspired by the Dracken concept that several authors have now written stories about. However, the Drae of my stories, while sharing a common Dragon ancestry are much different than the Dracken's of the other stories.

Prologue

Depending on one’s allegiance, the discovery could not have come at a more or less opportune time. It was dark, nearing twilight, a morning in late-July, with dew still dripping from the grass and tree leaves in the lush garden in which they stood. The dread of their circumstance did not detract from the beauty of their surroundings and – again, depending on one’s tastes – the muggle bleeding out on the grass near Macnair’s feet served only to accentuate the rich red of the roses in the backdrop.

The garden’s allure, of course, meant little to Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, as he struggled to maintain his footing, woozy from blood loss and in the presence of both the darkest wizard the world had ever known and three of his most vicious followers.

“Macnair,” Voldemort hissed, eyes locked with Harry. “Dispose of that disgusting creature.”

“My Lord,” Macnair muttered in assent, quickly flicking his wand and vanishing the corpse with a nonchalance that hinted of long practice.

Harry couldn’t help but flinch at the action. Mr. Morris had been a good man, a skilled teacher, and kind to Harry since he had been a small child, wasting away under the negligence of the Dursleys. To think that the man’s benevolence had resulted in this, that he had died because of Harry…

“Potter, Potter, Potter,” Voldemort muttered, his slanted eyes somehow gleeful as they swept across Harry’s shaking figure, his fingers twirling Harry’s wand tauntingly. “You needn’t have injured yourself. I had planned a bloodless death for you.”

Harry didn’t regret his injury. He had thrown himself in the way of Macnair’s slicing hex as it had whirled towards his teacher, but had managed only to injure the upper right section of his chest and his arm before the curse sliced through Mr. Morris’ throat anyway. He didn’t think the wound was fatal, if only he could stop the blood. He ignored Voldemort’s jibe and attempted to apply more pressure to the wound.

“Severus…”

“My Lord,” came the obedient response of the potion’s master, even as Harry froze in shock, before barely stifling a scream as the man’s spell slammed through him cauterizing the wound instantly.

“You are welcome Potter,” Voldemort said, “Now I expect your full attention.”

Harry contemplated petulance before reluctantly meeting the Dark Lord’s eyes once more. Voldemort smirked and raised Harry’s wand, dramatically aiming it between Harry’s eyes….

“My Lord, wait!”

The exclamation arose from behind Harry in the silky tones of Lucius Malfoy who, after apparating in with the rest, had slunk into the house to search for additional occupants, only now rejoining the group in the garden. Harry did not think he had ever heard the man so excited and judging by Voldemort’s reaction, neither had he.

“Lucius, you had best have a good reason for the interruption. I have awaited this boy’s death for 16 years.”

“My Lord,” Lucius said, strangely out of breath and partially alarmed. “You must not kill him, his blood, the scent…”

“Get to the point Lucius, before I change my mind and decide that it is your death I desire instead.”

“My Lord, he is Drae.”

Voldemort’s face contorted in surprise before the expression quickly shifted to triumph. Harry’s last thought before the stupefy hit him was: “I’m WHAT?”

***

Harry awoke to silk sheets sliding across his torso and legs. He was vaguely tempted to luxuriate in the feeling before the events prior to his blackout hit him in quick succession. Springing from the bed onto the lush carpet, his alarmed eyes took in an ornate and large bedroom that eked wealth. The four-poster bed from which he had sprung was covered in silky black sheets and Harry noticed that the boxer shorts that he wore seemed to be made of the same material. Harry diligently determined to not contemplate who had changed him into this attire before looking for a door. When he saw it, he immediately started for it, before a sudden and almost painful urge had him kneeling on the floor next to the bed instead.

The feeling was unlike anything else which he had ever experienced. Although he knew that his desire was to head for the door, when he tried to physically move himself, a stinging pain rushed through him in every nerve, and kept him on his knees. As soon as he had settled back to his kneeling position, the pain stopped. He had never known a spell that could do this. He was immune to the imperius and even if he had not been, he knew what the feeling of being under it was like, the desire that existed to do the commandant’s bidding. Harry did not feel any such desire, only physical pain.

The door opened and Harry caught a glimpse of platinum hair before the stinging pain had him dragging his eyes away from the image and to the floor. Harry struggled to raise his eyes but no sooner had he lifted them, then the pain took his breath away.

“Become used to this position Mr. Potter. It is how I desire you and you shall soon learn that in your life, that is all that matters.”

“I can’t think of a world where I cared what you want Malfoy,” Harry snapped, though he couldn’t help but acknowledge that the statement lacked merit with him on his knees, eyes downcast.

Malfoy laughed softly. “Ah, but Mr. Potter, the world made you to do nothing but that.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that and so remained silent. That seemed to suit Malfoy fine, who walked over to stand before Harry. Harry was stuck looking down at Malfoy’s shiny black books even as the man’s hand came down to pet Harry’s head, causing him to flinch. The disgust Harry initially felt didn’t last for long, as Harry felt a thrum of warm pleasure fill him as Malfoy gently stroked his hand through Harry’s hair.

“This is how you are meant to be Mr. Potter. From now on, your life can be filled with this pleasure – provided you follow my commands. Do not, and your life will be only pain – which your own body will bring upon itself.”

He withdrew his hand and Harry’s thoughts cleared. “I don’t understand.”

“We are Drae, Mr. Potter. And you are the submissive of our species. Nature has bred it into you that it is for your own good that you obey the commands of your dominants and evolution has ensured that your body leaves your mind little choice but to do so. For you see, Mr. Potter, the submissive has little means to protect itself from harm – nothing like the defenses of the dominant…”

Malfoy paused. “I think you will understand better if you can see.”

There was a noise – a strange noise that Harry could not place – before Malfoy’s voice. “You may look upon me.”

Harry found suddenly that he could look up and what he found was the strangest thing he had ever seen. Wings spread out from behind Malfoy – scaled wings with a huge span. “These are my best defense,” Malfoy told him, “no spell nor weapon can pierce them and they can remove you from danger through flight.” Malfoy’s voice was altered slightly from usual, and as he looked at the man he could see the fangs as he talked. “My bite is poisonous – well, to anyone but you. To you it will immediately paralyze you for at least an hour. Disobey me and I will treat you to that delight again and again until you understand that you are nothing without my protection.”

“You are of our species, but you are submissive and thus lack our form. Form changes are dangerous to bearing children, you understand, and that is your primary function. Once you have borne your body’s limit, you will change form but you will still be subject to the dominant’s control. Nature has been unkind to you. In the past, our enemies have been cunning and have preyed upon our submissives, knowing that eventually they could destroy our species using such a method. By nature, Drae are headstrong, and submissives in the past too often ignored their dominants commands, believing they knew best. But we are creatures of magic, and eventually magic ensured that our species adapted to survive. Obedience for your, Mr. Potter, is no longer a choice.”

***

“Harry has been missing for over three days, Severus. I must admit that I am concerned. I should have never given Mundungus a second chance. He has disappointed us in the past and I should have known he would do so again.”

The Headmaster’s voice was soft with worry and Severus felt uncomfortably ashamed as he recognized the guilt in his mentor’s voice.

“I am sure the boy is fine Headmaster. He is probably off fooling around with no concern for the worry of his friends and teachers.”

“Words like that remind me once again that you do not understand Mr. Potter at all Severus.”

Severus grimaced at the irony of that statement. The boy was Drae and the Headmaster and no clue. This was a pointedly awful situation and Severus was as of yet unsure how to play it. Although he had never met a submissive Drae before, he knew from the stories that they had remarkably little free will. He was unsure how someone as headstrong as Potter would fare under the condition, but under the control of the Malfoy’s he had little optimism. He knew he should tell the Headmaster what he knew, but he didn’t want to concern the man before he knew what the Dark Lord’s plans were for the boy.

“What did the boy’s relatives have to say Severus?”

Severus struggled to control his sneer as he recalled the truly disturbing meeting between himself and the abominable Dursley’s. Fat, ugly, and patently uncouth they had told him in no uncertain terms that they neither knew nor cared where their nephew had disappeared to, but that if Severus uncovered him, he was free to inform the boy that he was never to darken their doorstep again. Considering what he remembered of Petunia from his childhood, he was less shocked than he might have been to uncover her dislike of Lily’s son. He had barely managed not to curse the insipid woman and her morbidly obese kin before leaving.

“They did not know his whereabouts Headmaster, nor did they seem to have any inkling of his friends or favorite places to go when he stayed with them.”

“There is no hope from that front then.”

“No, Headmaster.”

“We will need to inform the Order.”

“Headmaster, might that not be just a tad premature…Afterall, for all we know the boy really might just be fooling around out there. His relatives are certainly no picnic and I would not blame the boy for running away. Perhaps we should give it a few days before alarming the boy’s friends unduly.”

The Headmaster tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his desk, face pensive. “We’ll give it another three days Severus, just in the case that you are right. Any longer than that and I will have to face the wrath of Molly Weasley for not informing her about the possible danger her surrogate son is in. In the meantime, we will continue our efforts to locate Harry. Please check in with the Dark Lord and see if you can discover if he has any idea where Mr. Potter is.”

“Of course, Headmaster.”

***

Harry stared upwards at the black canopy of the four-poster bed on which he lay. After Malfoy had left, Harry had felt compelled to climb back on the bed and had been laying there, unmoving ever since. When he considered moving, the memory of the pain that flooded his nerves every time that he did kept him immobile.

Although Malfoy had clarified the situation slightly, Harry still found himself insanely confused. How had he become this Drae creature? Had his parents been Drae? Why was he a submissive and did he truly have no choice but to obey Malfoy? How did Malfoy control him even when he wasn’t present? Was there some way that he could trick his body into not being this submissive creature? Why was this only happening now? He had encountered Malfoy so many times in the past.

The worst part of the whole thing was the memory of the warm pleasure that had swept through him when Malfoy had touched him earlier. It was possibly one of the best things he had ever experienced and Harry was ashamed to admit that he was afraid of that feeling.

The door opened but Harry didn’t move. He was quite prepared to feel that pain again.

“Very good, pet. I’m glad that you are learning so quickly.”

Harry bit his tongue. There was something telling him it wasn’t a great idea to test Malfoy right now.

“I understand that you are probably quite confused right now. I admit to being confused as well. I had not believed your parents to be Drae. The Malfoy line, of course, is the purest of the Drae…” (Harry rolled his eyes here – of course the Malfoys would always claim to be the purest of anything).

“Submissive Drae are incredibly rare. I haven’t encountered one in my lifetime – Narcissa is Drae, of course, but she is dominant and we barely managed to get along long enough to have Draco. My grandmother was a submissive, but she is the only one that I have heard of. What incredible luck to encounter you, right at the cusp of your maturity.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel that he wasn’t quite so lucky – no matter what Malfoy said.

Malfoy continued his speech. “Dominant Drae are apparent from birth. I knew from the moment that I first scented Draco that he was Drae – not that there was every any doubt of course. But submissive Drae have an extra protection – another defense that magic saw fit to build into them. Submissive Drae do not reveal their inheritance until they reach Drae sexual maturity – the age of 16 you understand. Right now, you are the most ripe age to bare children…”

“I’m a man Malfoy, in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly have a womb.”

Malfoy chuckled and Harry clenched his fists. “But you do, my dear boy. Your body is better equipped to bare Drae children than any woman ever could be.”

This information was a bit too much for Harry who had to focus on controlling his breathing to quiet his panic.

“Unfortunately, the Dark Lord does not desire you to bare my children as of yet. He has other plans for you. But do not fret, I will ensure you have the opportunity to birth as many Malfoy children as your body can possibly handle.”

That promise somehow didn’t make Harry feel any better…

“Now then, it is almost time to deliver you back to your relatives…”

Harry started in surprise. He had sort of believed that he would be in this room the rest of his life.

“The Dark Lord has great plans for you and it requires you to return to Hogwarts this year. But some ground rules first.”

Malfoy moved closer to the bed and laid his hand on Harry’s head. The warmth buzzed through Harry once again and it was a struggle to focus on Malfoy’s smug words.

“When I touch you, you will find that my control is much more long-lasting and covers much greater distances. Now then, you will not reveal your true nature to anyone – not your friends, not your teachers, and certainly not that old fool. You will meet with Draco at least thrice a week so that he can ensure my control does not ebb. And, of course, you will follow any direction that Draco or I give you explicitly – not that you will have a choice.”

Malfoy removed his hand and sense returned to Harry. Once he was fully back in control of his faculties he turned a glare to meet Malfoy’s smug eyes.

“Oh come now, pet. That’s no way to look at the man whose whims you must obey for the rest of your life. Stupefy.”

Harry’s eyes blackened before he could even open his mouth to deliver his retort.

***

“Well, Harry seems to be perfectly fine.”

Severus and Dumbledore had reconvened in the latter’s office following their debriefing of the Boy-Who-Lived. The brat had turned up unexpectedly at his displeased relative’s doorsteps earlier that day – slightly out of it, but with a believable and apologetic story of having spent a few days at a friend from elementary school’s house and not realizing the panic that had resulted from his unexpected absence. The boy had apologized profusely and the Headmaster had quickly turned a twinkling-eyed smile on the boy and assured him that no harm had been done.

The Headmaster hadn’t seemed to notice, but Severus’ observant eyes and keen ears had noticed the way the boy had told the story – halting, chocking, and with alternating hateful and haunted eyes turned to Severus.

Severus needed to uncover the Dark Lord’s plan for the boy immediately.
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The Discipline of Dragons