Auror Banks was a bit confused. She and three other aurors were next to her in a lavish room, a young man cowering in front of them, hiding in the corner between the bed and the far wall as if he were trying to hide in the nightstand. She was there on a rumored slavery charge and it appeared that the rumors were correct- though it was an unusual circumstance, it seemed. She was unused to seeing slaves kept in such lovely places- they were normally kept in cupboards and broom closets. Who on earth kept a slave in such a beautiful place? She had never seen one treated so well.
"Harry Potter," her partner murmured beside her in dismay and her gaze sharpened on the confused- for he had to be confused, to be hiding from them-young man, realizing that he was right. Their missing savior who had disappeared off the streets of Hogsmead a year before was curled there, black hair and green eyes unmistakable. She caught a glimpse of the scar from under the fringe of bangs and felt a pang of shock go through her. He was barely twenty now but looked in his teens- small and skinnier than a twig, though part of that image might have had something to do with the fact that he was curled in a ball.
"Mr. Potter," she called a bit louder than her partner had spoken. "Mr. Potter, we're aurors, not death eaters." There was one, held just outside the door to this room; seething as though he were being falsely accused and they were all idiots. She had to admit that if he weren't in restraints, she might have been frightened of him as well.
"Go away!" he said, speaking for the first time, and they were all surprised at the tone of his voice. He wasn't confused- he was frightened of them. Auror Banks couldn't believe it.
"I said we're aurors, Mr. Potter. This house has been liberated- Lucius Malfoy is in custody! You never have to bow to him, or anyone else, again." Well, he wasn't quite in custody as of yet, but she would make sure he would be by the end of the day. To her surprise, he stood on trembling legs, biting his lip harshly enough to draw blood.
"Where is he?" he asked as though worried and she sighed in relief that she'd gotten through. "I don't believe you. He's not in custody, he can't be." His voice was almost emotionless, but his green eyes grew more and more afraid. She couldn't help the pity that coursed through her. He was going to be haunted by this experience for a long time, she could tell. Eventually, though, everyone was rehabilitated. He would be, too, in time.
"We have him, right here," she said, waving to the auror just outside the door. The others exchanged looks, but she was in charge on this mission (though she had a feeling she wouldn't have been the one on it if they'd known it was the Boy Who Lived she was rescuing) and she called the shots. Two doubtful aurors led Malfoy in, who somehow still managed to appear haughty no matter how tightly he was restrained. His hands were spelled together and he was under a sort of ward that wouldn't allow him to run, just for extra protection because his psycho was Voldemort's right hand man and they couldn't take any risks.
The minute he was walked in, however, Potter bolted forward and she tried to stop him, assuming he was going to attack the blonde, but he just darted around her and threw himself at Malfoy's feet, who didn't look surprised- if anything, he looked smug, as if he'd known this were going to happen. She felt angry enough to assault the blonde herself, but she stopped to listen to Harry sob, feeling almost out of place, as if she had done something very, very wrong.
"Please don't let them take me, or put you away!" the brunette cried, burying his face in the hem of Malfoy's robes. If it weren't for the manacle attached to the boy's ankle, she would have thought he were a despairing loved one. "Please!" He looked up with teary eyes and Lucius looked at him without expression for a moment before turning to the man holding him.
"Release my arms and let me comfort him," he said with authority that made it a command instead of a request. With the ward still up, she wasn't so much afraid of him getting away as she was of him hurting Potter, who was so subserviently submitted to him. "Let me go," he demanded, his voice thunderous and she canceled the locking charm on his wrists. Almost immediately he was leaning down, running a large, graceful hand through what looked like very soft, messy hair.
"Please, master," he whispered, meeting Malfoy's eyes.
"What are you begging me for, Harry?" Auror Banks was more than confused at this point- she was dumbfounded. She had never before seen a master use his slave's given name, and the way Malfoy was talking to him was almost tenderly, gently. "You've done nothing."
"I want them to go away!"
What was Auror Banks supposed to say in response to that? Harry Potter—a supposed slave, though she wasn't quite sure if that were true or not anymore—was crying at the feet of Lucius Malfoy, trying to make his rescuers leave. It took several tries for her mouth to move.
"Is Mr. Potter not a slave here?" she asked him, her voice considerably shaken. Malfoy's smirk told her all she needed to know.
"Oh, he's a slave," he answered casually and Banks bristled in anger. The nerve of the bastard! Never a clear answer—because that certainly didn't count as one—always looking down on others… oh, that Malfoy was a real piece of work. She seethed and Malfoy continued. "He's a slave, and he would like to stay that way."
"Leave," Harry said as if enforcing his master's words. His thin arms were wrapped around Malfoy's legs as if he were afraid he was going to run away. "I don't want you here, I don't want to leave." He kept chanting similar mutterings and Banks looked up at Malfoy in complete shock, even more surprised to see the proud pureblood sink to his knees, taking Harry into his arms to rock him while he calmed.
"You'd notice that Harry hasn't been well since the final battle," Malfoy said smoothly. "He needs a firm hand to keep control of him, to take away his free will and give him a simple life that he can simply live instead of survive." His eyes gleamed. "I am that hand. You'll notice that he's not unreasonably kept."
She grudgingly admitted he was right; she'd noticed before the room was absolutely beautiful, but Potter was dressed finely as well, in a high-collar black shirt that might have been silk and a pair of nice black slacks. She noticed as well that she wasn't alone in her complete shock. Her partner and the two other aurors that had joined her looked as if they'd been body-bound and she wasn't too far off from such a reaction.
"A willing slave?" She struggled to understand this concept.
He nodded calmly. "Completely willing. He's here of his own volition. Isn't that right… pet?" Potter nodded quickly and looked down. "What Harry and I do here is none of your business."
She quickly became fired up again. "So you admit it—sexual relationship!" She said it like a battle cry and Malfoy just rolled his eyes at her.
"So dramatic. I can be in a sexual relationship with Harry if I'd like. It certainly is not rape." She opened and closed her mouth several times and the amusement in Malfoy's eyes grew. "What? Does it go against your beliefs that your precious Boy-Who-Lived is homosexual, that he's in a relationship—however perverse the rest of the world may find it—with a dreaded death eater?" He turned from Auror Banks and looked down at Harry. "Do you like being with me, Harry?"
He nodded quickly, fiercely. "They can't make me go," he whispered almost to himself.
"Of course not, pet." Then grey eyes found blue again and Banks froze. "Our relationship is perfectly legal, auror. Odd, by your standards, but legal. Leave."
"But what about your friends, Mr. Potter!" she tried desperately. She wouldn't leave until she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do. "Hermione Granger, and the Weasleys—your godson, Ted Lupin!"
Green eyes flashed and Harry was glaring up at her with such anger that she felt chilled from seeing it. "You don't know anything about my friends," he said in a low voice. "Or about my godson. I'll have you know. I see them all regularly! You don't know anything about why I'm here, or why I've been hidden since the war, or even anything about me! So just leave me alone, leave me here with Lucius and give up all of your stupid fixations on me becoming an auror, or a Quidditch player, or what have you!" His voice broke and he buried his face in Malfoy's shirt.
"You want us to leave," she repeated, just for confirmation." He nodded without looking up and she worked her jaw, completely stunned. "Okay." Her voice was quiet and she motioned for the other three aurors to follow her. They left.
The moment Lucius felt them break through the inner wards, leaving the premises, he yanked Harry's head back by his hair and leaned down to murmur in his ear.
"My dear Harry."
"Master," he gasped and let Lucius kiss him, the perfect picture of submission. "Master, please!" Lucius smiled against his lips.
"Greedy pet," he whispered. "Just as well. Let us… reinforce just who you belong to." He could see the relief clearly in those evergreen eyes, gorgeous relief. He knew Harry better than the boy wonder knew himself—he needed the submission, needed his power kept in check. Lucius was the man to dominate him, to lock up his magic and his will, leaving his mind blissfully calm. Harry James Potter would never want for anything. Lucius Malfoy took care of his pet, after all.
"I am yours," Harry responded at once, truth ringing in each word, and Lucius allowed himself a small smile as he watched Harry play with his manacle, just to make sure he was still tied down—tied to Lucius, locked away from the freedom that he feared so much. He pressed his lips to the boy's temple before kissing those rose-petal lips once more.
Random, but this little… thing… wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. I might do something with it later, maybe not. I'm a little busy now, though.