Authors Note: My initial thanks go out to Laurel. Not only is she the beta for this tale, but I had these first three chapters only partially written when a mention of 'Madame Scarlet's' in one of her brilliant stories was all that it took to inspire me to fill in the blanks. Secondary thanks go out to everyone who voted in my yahoo groups poll, whether this is the fic you voted for or not, I still appreciate the feedback. (I'll get to most if not all the other stories eventually as well, so no worries) Now, as some of you might already know, this story will contain a few pairings, the main and most important being D/H of course. There will also be some SS/DM/HP and I'm sure even more that I haven't thought of yet. This story makes me blush, so it might make you as well. Consider yourself warned. *Explicit content warning for this story* Also, as with all of my stories, I have created graphics to coincide (a book cover if you will) and they can be found on my yahoo group.

Chapter 1 S & M

Black patent shoes scuffed up a short flight of stairs to the front door of a townhouse he had purchased with Lucius the minute the dust from the war had settled. There was nothing to indicate that it was even a business except the golden foil letters on the frosted glass inset of the door that read 'Madame Scarlet's'.

He paid no mind to the odd stares he received as people on the street took in his appearance. Billowing black robes and century old clothing was slightly out of place in central London, but no one seemed incompetent enough to comment on it, which was just as well since Severus preferred to keep his wand sheathed in such close proximity to his business. The building was only situated here so that they could capitalize on muggle and wizard clients alike and, so far, it had been working handsomely.

Snape's partner had called him in for a meeting which they would normally have at the Manor –something must have gone wrong for Lucius to want to meet here. They rarely visited the establishment themselves, wanting instead to let their capable management team handle the inner workings of the company. It was safer that way, what with Snape still trying to maintain his position at Hogwarts and Lucius' wife being as clever and suspicious as she was. It would not bode well for either of them to be caught running a brothel solely composed of an endangered species.

He didn't even get a chance to ring the bell before a lovely woman greeted him at the door. "Welcome to Madame Scarlet's," she purred and opened the door wider to allow him to pass, though she made certain it wasn't wide enough that he could avoid brushing against her as he did. "Have you visited before?"

Severus narrowed his eyes and assessed the young thing. She was wearing a pencil skirt in a deep gray that stopped mid-thigh and a matching jacket with a bit of lace from a corset underneath peeking out under a mound of cleavage. It was standard uniform for the muggle women that ran the front desk and lobby, but he hadn't seen her before and deduced that Lucius must have been recruiting behind his back. "I'm here to see Lucius," he told the girl at last and her seductive guise dropped into one of slight scrutiny.

"I assume if you know him then you know the password?" she asked, flicking her silken blonde hair behind her shoulder. The gesture brought the back of her right hand into view and Snape spied the fresh crimson initials of 'S' and 'M' tattooed into the tanned flesh there. Clearly she was just out of training.

"Stupid girl, do you know who I am?" he snarled but she didn't even flinch. The girls were trained well to handle all sorts of odd situations and angry customers.

"Should I?" she asked sounding a tad bored by his outburst.

With a growl he simply held up his ring with the Snape house insignia –an emerald serpent wrapped around a sharp blade- and her eyes widened. That crest, along with Malfoy's was used to sign every document, including the employee's paychecks. With his other hand Snape pressed a finger harshly against the 'S' inked into the top of her hand and watched as her face twisted in agony. He knew the pain that she must feel from his touching the mark in anger, because his thoughts of punishment burned her physically through the magical connection. The poor muggle girl had no way of defending herself so Snape didn't torture her as badly as he might a witch in her position.

"Mr. Snape, Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't realize, please forgive me," she whimpered, clearly having heard about his reputation from the others and no doubt still reeling from the pain he had inflicted upon her.

He held his hand out to her and she immediately dove on it, kissing the ring and his surrounding fingers; she started to take one into her mouth when Snape pulled it away with a withering stare. "Insolent girl, I never gave you permission to go further."

"Of course, Sir. I'm terribly sorry, Sir," she replied with wide, frightened eyes.

It was hardly even fun when they were whimpering puddles and not the least bit defiant. "Off with you then," he scoffed and she left the room at a near run. The girl had failed to inform him of Lucius' location so Snape still didn't know where to find his partner so he went upstairs to the topmost floor to his and Lucius' private parlor.

As he suspected, Snape found the man draped elegantly in an armchair by the fire in their private room with a drink in his hand. The orange light made his hair appear more golden than white and his attire was perfectly pressed and ornate as was usual for the Lord of Malfoy Manor. However, none of those things mattered much, it was the sparkle of the man's gray eyes that made Snape hesitate in the doorway.

"Severus," he greeted levelly, and Snape's heart seized at the tone. The only person in the world he had ever felt a weakness for was Lily Evans, her flaming mane and emerald stare still haunted his dreams at night, but his affection toward Lucius Malfoy was more akin to the longing he held for Lily rather than that of a business partner. He nearly melted while in the man's presence and worked ever so hard to be alone with him. They had been lovers at one time, but Lucius had ended it when Narcissa threatened to leave him. It seemed painfully easy for the stately and powerful man to cast Snape aside, while the memory of their affair still burned within the dark haired wizard. It was some time ago that Severus decided to hurt Lucius as he himself had been hurt; if he couldn't have him, he would find a way to make the man's life hell.

"Lucius," Snape replied after taking in the changes made to the parlor since the last time he had been there. The mantel was cluttered with bottles of expensive alcohol and above it hung a portrait of the original harem. Together he and Lucius had found and convinced the group of barely legal teens to come work for them, which was hardly difficult given the nature of who they employed. Five young women and three young men all posed in the midst of an erotic stance, each in some compromising position and state of undress. Snape could only imagine the visceral sounds that would have filled the room had the portrait not been silenced.

Other than the promiscuous portrait and a few new items of furniture the room remained virtually unchanged. "You could have told me when you had that portrait made. I would have liked to attend that event," Snape remarked sourly, gesturing toward the portrait.

"You make the others uncomfortable, you know that Severus," Lucius replied with a glorious sigh. "I couldn't invite you, I'm sure you understand."

"I'm half owner here as well," he reminded the arrogant man. "Those are our employees, Lucius, they do as we say."

"Were, Severus. They were our employees," the man replied curtly. "What's past is past."

That was true; the employees were in fact past tense now. The group having such a fabulous time in the portrait was no longer with them. One had died in the war and two ran off to America when the battles started to heat up, but the others died in their care. It appeared, despite the general makeup of their species, that their employees could in fact be over-sexed and if they went too long without their destined mate in this condition they could die. It was a hard lesson to learn, having five bodies on their hands because of their lack of knowledge. Severus blamed Lucius; after all, it was he that was supposed to be the expert, while Snape brought in the talent to be groomed.

Since the war their employees had dwindled so significantly that they had to hire muggles to fill in the gaps, loathe as they were to do so. There just weren't enough bodies to entertain all of the client orders. Now that the school was rebuilt and classes were set to resume, Snape felt confident they could rebuild their little brothel with ease.

"The well has run dry, Severus," Lucius told him curtly, interrupting his train of thought and offering him a glass of amber liquid and an empty seat, which Snape accepted.

Snape rolled his eyes and swirled his glass of cognac slowly, sniffing it before taking a heavy sip. "Don't talk to me as if I'm oblivious to these things, Lucius. I am co-founder of this little operation after all. I'm fully aware of how few new recruits we have."

"You wouldn't have even known about them if not for me," Lucius sneered.

"And you would have no access to them without me," Snape replied with indignation. He would not let Lucius belittle his part in their joint business venture just because his wife shared traits with their captives. His position at Hogwarts was invaluable to their company as he had full access to the students as they came of age –which was the point at which they would first begin their transformation- and could be easily molded into the perfect sex slave. If they didn't come willingly they were sometimes brought in by force. They had been up to this scheme since before the war even began and the profits were quite handsome.

Lucius huffed and finally sat back down across from Severus. "Well, this year you'll have help, as Draco will be coming into his inheritance tomorrow."

"I thought so, does he know?" Snape asked, his mind already turning the possibilities over in his mind.

"Of course he knows. We told him as soon as the war was over," Lucius replied with a casual wave.

"Does he know about our little… club?" Severus asked.

"No," Lucius shouted defensively, getting to his feet. "And he won't be told until he graduates and joins us here, is that understood?"

"So, is that your intention then, to have him join the others?" Snape asked with a slight grin. "This surprises me, Lucius." He knew the very idea of Draco being taken as a slave for their elite clientele would offend him deeply, but he so enjoyed getting a rise out of his former lover.

"Draco will not be like the others," Lucius spat. "This year he'll help you seek out the new hires and once he graduates he'll be entrusted to handle the daily needs of the business," he added with a sneer. The idea irked him, but Snape merely nodded. He had suspected Malfoy's plans for his son's future, and, in a way, it made sense to have someone they could trust implicitly with the management of their endeavor, but Snape didn't want the younger Malfoy to become partners as well, thus giving them majority rule and the ability to push him out.

It had been nearly twenty years ago that he and Lucius had begun this secret business together. Twenty years since Lucius told him of his wife's affliction and that there were many others out there like her, all of which came into their inheritance at seventeen. For twenty years they have developed a prestigious clientele of muggles and magical folk alike who paid handsomely to have their needs addressed by the very talented people within these. Up until last year he and Lucius had operated in various unplottable locations, always moving, always fearful of being caught, but the war had created a havoc they found quite beneficial for their elite club which allowed them to set up a permanent location.

Narcissa had no idea, nor would she approve, of the little harem they had created over the last two decades. She never asked questions about what Lucius did for the hefty amounts of additional galleons in their vault, having been forbidden by her husband to do so. She surely would have had her suspicions though, but she always dutifully obeyed Lucius' wishes and stayed clear of the matter.

"Well, we'll have a hard time of it this year, with so many dying and others fleeing the country, there will be far less students coming to Hogwarts," Snape muttered. "Will your son have an easy time seeking them out?"

Lucius nodded. "He will, yes. He'll be naturally attracted to them far more than any human would be."

"Interesting, and what reason are you giving him to bring them to me?" he asked.

"He's already willingly agreed to turn them over without question," Lucius responded haughtily. Snape knew that Lucius was proud of his son and thought him to be the pinnacle of Slytherin purity, always obedient, always putting his family before all else. Severus, however, knew better.

"And his hunger, how is he to sate that while he's in school?" Snape asked, nearly salivating at the idea of taking his partner's son for his own. Ever since the older Malfoy had grown cold toward him romantically, Snape had waited for the moment the younger Malfoy would come of age. He would see to it that Draco filled the position that his father no longer wished to.

"He is to take what he wants and then modify their memories," he replied, then quickly narrowed his eyes. "You are not to touch him with even one sallow greasy finger," Lucius warned.

Snape chuckled, but made no such promise as he took another sip of his drink.


A searing pain like nothing Harry had ever felt before blistered through his veins like wildfire. He wanted desperately to be free of the torment being wreaked upon his mind and body, but it refused to abate. His sun kissed skin, made paler because of his forced indoor solitude at Privet drive that summer, was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He had kicked off all the bed linens but it still did nothing to alleviate the sweltering heat that seemed to seep from his every pore.

His hair splayed across the sheets; raven locks soaked through to the ends. His lips formed a silent scream as his throat was constricted too tight to make a sound, but he wished he could. He wished his could scream away the pain that had his chest arching from the bed and his nails clawing the mattress.

It felt as though pins and needles were being worked into his skin from every direction. His stomach churned and he felt close to vomiting. Shaking and gulping in shallow breaths whenever his body allowed it, Harry tried to ride out the pain, hoping with every fiber that it would cease on its own very soon. If he had to rely on the Dursley's to help him, Harry would be thoroughly fucked.

He couldn't recall the point at which he felt the fire in his veins begin to subside because he had blacked out from the intensity of the experience; but eventually it did fade and he fell back into a fitful sleep. It was also lost on the raven-haired boy that it had been exactly the stroke of Midnight on his seventeenth birthday when he had awoken in the first place. All he knew was that never again would he eat leftover curry take-out, no matter how starving he was.


Harry woke later that morning feeling peculiar. He had only a vague recollection of the painful dream he had experienced and he tried to put it behind him and start his day; his Uncle Vernon would be unlocking his door soon and demanding that breakfast be served.

He got up and dressed quickly, feeling the sticky sweat still lingering on his skin. He reeked and desperately needed a shower, but it would have to wait. Harry was still a slave to the whims of his Uncle Vernon and would only be permitted to use the shower when his uncle deemed it appropriate.

For Harry, life at the Dursley's was tediously repetitive; get up and fix breakfast for everyone, get locked back in his room until it was time to serve the family lunch, then locked up again until dinner. It was a caged existence, and the small bedroom next to Dudley's was nearly as claustrophobic as the cupboard under the stairs had been.

He wouldn't have to tolerate it for long though. Today was his seventeenth birthday, and after today, he would never have to return to the Dursley's again.

Dumbledore had requested he come back for this final summer, and Harry intended to keep his promise. Though Voldemort was dead, perished by Harry's own hand last year, he still came back to the little muggle house, and back to his foul muggle family, because of a promise to a dead man.

He had heard through Ron and Hermione that Draco and Snape had been cleared of all charges and would be back at Hogwarts when school restarted. How two evil souls like that could be let back into a school filled with innocent students, Harry didn't know. As much as he'd like to, he couldn't stop them from returning, but he certainly didn't have to like the idea.

The door clicked open and his uncle Vernon was staring into the room with his nose scrunched up in distaste. "Why do you smell so vile, boy?" he asked.

Harry only shrugged, he knew better than to speak, lest he say the wrong thing and get backhanded. He only had to make it through one more day and then he could be rid of them forever.

"Well, have a shower and come downstairs to make breakfast," he grunted. "But make it quick," he amended.

It must really be his birthday for Vernon to have been as generous as that. Harry went straight to the small bathroom at the end of the hall and slid out of his nightclothes as he began scrutinizing his body in the mirror. He jabbed at the well-toned muscles of his abdomen and rubbed his palm along the shadow of stubble that had grown in on his chin. All these things had been slowly developing as he grew older and he saw no significant differences to his body this particular morning, but for the first time since his eleventh birthday Harry actually felt different. A bellow from downstairs had him clamoring into the shower and he immediately got under the warm water.

He stood there for a moment and just luxuriated under the spray. He never noticed before how the water made his skin tingle, or how it caused his nipples to stand at attention and only a moment later he looked down to find his cock fully erect and throbbing.

It was beyond any normal morning wood he had ever had and it begged for attention, so he snaked his trembling hand down and gripped it roughly. The sensation made his head fall backward and his eyelids flutter as if brought to an instant orgasm with that single touch alone.

He stroked himself vigorously until he felt the pressure build and finally break inside of him, pushing the hot liquid from his cock in projectile spurts across the white tiled wall. He stayed under the spray, panting and leaning against the side of the shower until he heard his Uncle holler his name once more from downstairs.

Still reeling from the potent orgasm, he stumbled down the stairs and began preparing breakfast for his unappreciative family. He was busy spooning eggs onto the plates when Dudley barreled into the kitchen but stopped mid run and stared at Harry strangely.

He tried to ignore him, but Dudley persisted, never taking his eyes off of Harry through the duration of the meal; even once they were all finished, when Harry stood to wash the dishes, Dudley followed him to the sink.

"Oh Duddikins, you don't need to help him with the cleaning," his aunt cooed.

"I want to," he replied. Harry was not the only one surprised by this answer and he watched as the shock faded from Petunia's face and she shrugged. "Such a sweet boy," she mused as she left them alone in the kitchen.

"Look Dudley, if you're planning to beat me up, you best back off. I have my wand," Harry warned.

"Something's different about you," Dudley whispered, closing the distance between them.

Harry's eyes went wide, and his whole body went ridged with discomfort at their close proximity. "You're mad," he whispered, but Dudley only shook his head and grabbed for Harry's arm with one pudgy hand.

"Touch me," he begged.

Harry backed away, his arms extended to ward Dudley off. The gleam in his cousin's eyes was predatory, but not in the way Harry was used to seeing from his cousin when he merely wanted to pound Harry's face. "Just stay away from me," Harry demanded.

"You smell so good," Dudley whispered, ignoring Harry outright and moving closer.

Harry shook his head and made a run for it, bolting out the back door and running as fast as he could to the park. He didn't know what game Dudley thought he was playing, but he was acting insane and Harry had to keep away from him. After a moment of thought, he summoned his broom and took off toward the Burrow, deciding not to face Dudley again and figuring it would be easier to come back for the rest of his things in the middle of the night while the rest of them slept.

Authors Note: So who wants an S&M tattoo (I really liked it since it not only stands for the obvious, but also the initials of the club and the owners…)