Harry had a fantasy. Well not so much a fantasy as a fetish. Draco knew all about Harry. He knew all about fetishes. He knew all about Harry's fetishes. He even knew what to do about it. There was just one problem. He couldn't get Harry to admit his fetish. And if Harry wouldn't admit it then how was Draco supposed to admit he knew about it. He wasn't sure Harry even admitted it to himself.
You may be wondering dear reader, how it is that Draco knows something about Harry that Harry doesn't even know himself. The answer is simple. Stalking. For months he had followed Harry everywhere. He'd even put the occasional tracking charm on him. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. But most of all he watched him. He took in everything – every word, every gesture, every flick of the eyes, and he remembered. All of them. Until eventually he was pretty sure he knew everything there was to know about Harry Potter. Then and only then did he make his move.
Harry had been wary at first, but he'd let Draco take him to dinner and pretty soon things were progressing. They'd had their first joint invitation. Draco had his own space in Harry's wardrobe. Everything was great except for that one little thing. And that wasn't good enough for him. He wanted everything to be perfect.
He fretted and worried over the problem for months by himself. For a while he'd worried that Harry just didn't want to try it with him. But he was pretty sure now that Harry just didn't know his own mind. He'd tried subtle hints. Not so subtle hints. But he didn't feel comfortable enough with their relationship to just out and out suggest it. There was always a chance, however miniscule, that he'd read the signs wrong.
So he'd watched and waited and plotted (and slowly accumulated some interesting objects from select and hard to find shops at the far end of Knockturn alley) and eventually concluded that he needed help. He needed someone who'd known Harry longer. So one day when he was supposed to be working and his boss wasn't looking he compiled a list in his neat, methodical fashion.
When he'd finished he opened a new pot of red ink and began to make neat methodical notes in the margin. Slowly and sensibly he ruled out anyone over the age of forty, anyone who was too close to Harry and anyone who Harry has previously dated. And then, chewing his lip with concentration he ruled out anyone female, anyone ugly and anyone who hated him. He was left with only one name.
It was already nearly dark when Draco stopped outside the Weasly's Wizard Wheezes' flagship shop in Diagon ally. The shop had its shutters down and the closed sign in the door flashed on and off when he came near. Taking a deep breath he wrapped his cloak around him and knocked. In the far of depths of the shop he heard a clatter and jangling, followed by a mechanical sounding voice yelling "there's someone at the door!" After five minutes of crashing, clanging and quite a lot of swearing, the door was opened by George Weasley.
He stared in surprise at the slight blonde figure on his doorstep, well muffled up but still shivering from the cold, but eventually he stepped aside and silently gestured Draco into the shop. Still without saying a word he led him to the back of the shop, through a small door and up a flight of stairs. They came out into a large sitting room, sparsely furnished. The only decoration was a large photo of a smiling Fred Weasley.
"Have a seat," George said, running one hand nervously through his vivid hair. "Tea, coffee?"
"Tea please," said Draco, seating himself carefully and removing his cloak. He watched silently as the older man moved around the room, making tea and finding sugar and milk. Eventually he passed Draco a chipped mug of tea and sat opposite him, clutching his own mug like a security blanket.
"I need your help," said Draco eventually, setting him mug down carefully.
George just watched him carefully.
"It's... well to be honest it's about sex," Draco admitted blushing. "Sex and Harry. And before you make any jokes I'm not asking you to acquire me any black market wizard-up or anything like that. It's... well it's like this. Harry has this fetish. I know he has the fetish but he doesn't. Or he does and he's determined not to act on it. I want to make him happy but I don't want to just spring it on him in case I'm wrong. I want your advice, as someone who's known Harry since he was a child, on how to get him to ask me to fulfil his fantasy." Aware that he'd said all that in an uncoordinated rush he hung his head and just waited.
"Now that wasn't what I was expecting you to say," said George eventually. "I take it this is about S&M?"
Draco's head jerked up and he stared at him. "How did you know?"
"Takes one to know one," said George with a shrug. "And like you said I know Harry."
He stared at the floor then, his expression thoughtful. Then after few moments silence he rose and left the room. Just as Draco was beginning to wonder if he ever coming back he returned carrying a DVD box. He handed it to Draco in silence.
Draco studied it. "The Secretary" he read. "Why...?"
"Get Harry to watch it. That shouldn't be hard. You know what he's like with films. Try it, but I've got a hunch it'll work."
Draco thanked him and without waiting to finish his tea his threw his cloaks back on and headed to Harry's.
He found Harry in the kitchen, making salad. He gave him a pack on the cheek in passing and went to hang up his cloak. Then without waiting to be asked he began helping Harry make supper. When things were nearly ready and there was nothing to do but wait for the salmon to finish cooking, he went to his cloak and pulled out the film from the inside pocket.
"I bumped into George today," he said, keeping his tone casual. "He said to say hi."
"That's nice," Harry said, not sounding very interested.
"Yeah. He gave me this film to lend you. He thought you'd like it."
That got Harry's attention. "A film?" he asked his eyes lighting up. Draco smiled and handed over the box. When it came to films Harry really was like a child in a sweetshop.
"The Secretary" he read. "We'll watch it after dinner yeah?"
Draco nodded and hoped George knew what he was doing.
When they'd finished their supper and the plates had been cleared away they snuggled up together on the sofa under a fluffy blanket and put the film on.
To begin with Draco really didn't understand why George had given them the film. In fact he almost wondered whether he was mocking Draco, giving him a film about mental institutions and self harming. But then they got to the famous spanking scene and Draco began to understand.
He ran his hand down Harry's side, gentle stroking the soft skin under his t-shirt and felt Harry shudder against him. He knew without checking that the film was affecting Harry exactly the way George had predicted it would.
They watched the film in silence, Draco struggling to concentrate, hyper aware of the warm body beside him. Eventual the film ended and the credits began to roll. Draco turned to Harry.
"What did you think?" he asked.
To his joy Harry blushed, just a little. "It was good. I enjoyed it. What about you?"
"Not bad. I did enjoy it, but I didn't think much of Mr Gray."
Harry looked surprised. "Why not?"
Draco leant close so his breath tickled Harry ear and said, his voice low and a little husky, "because he was doing it wrong."
Harry turned his head sharply, staring at him. "What..."
"There are certain rules that any dom worth his salt does not break. You don't leave your sub alone, even for a moment. You can let them think they're alone but you never leave them during a session. You don't enter into those kinds of games without proper safety measures. You don't do new stuff without checking how the sub feels about it unless you know them very well indeed. You don't make the relationship sexual without checking with your sub that they're okay with that. You never use your sub as a punching bag. You don't take out your anger on them." He leant in close again, keeping eyes contact. "Even though the dom is in charge, it's all about the sub."
Harry's breath caught as he stared up into big grey eyes, full of sincerity. "You, you like that stuff?" he asked, not sure why his voice was shaking.
Draco smiled at him, sure now that he'd been right. "Of course," he said with a smile. "You didn't think I was vanilla did you?" He smiled. "I've just been waiting for you to ask."
Harry stared at him for a few minutes, then he grinned. "Well I'm asking," he said cheekily. "What're you going to do about it?"
Draco laughed, grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him forcefully towards the bedroom.
And it was perfect.