Disclaimer: This is a D/s fic, with spanking and later m/m sexual scenes of an explicit nature. If you are not comfortable with that, please do not read this fic. Thanks!
Draco scrambled backwards as the light from the corridor filtrated into his cell. He covered his eyes with his palm to avoid the burn and huddled in the corner, praying the Dementor would decide to pass on. His breath caught as he waited for the familiar feelings of coldness and desolation to wash over him and he let out a small whimper of dread. When the emotions didn't take over, he peered between his slightly parted fingers.
He discovered, shocked, that the presence in his cell was not a Dementor but a man. Squinting through the pain in his dazed eyes, he could make out a silver Auror's badge, a pair of dark round spectacles and a black, jagged lightning scar. Draco groaned inwardly, Potter, then. It would be Potter, obviously come to gloat now that his position allowed it
"Malfoy?" His voice was gentler than Draco would ever have expected, very gentle and soft in comparison to the harsh tone of the wardens and the shrill screams of the inmates. Draco scooted further into the corner, embarrassed by the condition of his hair, robes and the filth that clung to his alabaster skin, turning it grey.
"Malfoy?" Harry repeated a little more firmly, watching as Draco moved back away from him, surprised by how much pity he felt for his former rival, "Come here."
He watched as Draco tried to organize his dishevelled robes, flicking his overgrown hair forward to hide his embarrassment. Harry knew that he would be obeyed; the Azkaban guards trained their prisoners to listen to visiting Aurors, and officials who came to gawk. If they received one complaint, Dementers would assault the prisoner mercilessly outside their door day and night for a week. He waited as Draco scrambled to his feet and wandered slowly over, eyes never leaving the floor.
Harry delivered his planned speech in a rush, "In the last week, four former death eaters - your father included - have escaped from Azkaban. We do not yet know the cause of the security breach, but until such time as it can be determined, all high-risk prisoners are being moved out of Azkaban and being turned over individual Aurors for guarding. While the investigation is being is being launched, the Auror will observe prisoner and it will be determined whether they have reformed and can enter society or must return to Azkaban."
Draco bit his lip. He was no longer sure how long he'd even been in Azkaban, the days blending together hopelessly. His whole body shook with relief at the prospect of getting out of the prison, but being babysat by an Auror didn't sound pleasant either, "Who is watching me?" He asked nervously.
Harry sighed, "I am." He watched as what little colour there was in Draco's face drained, "The ministry thought it would be best … you know, so that I could compare how you are now to how you were before."
Draco studied his hands miserably. There was no way he would ever get out of Azkaban now and Potter would probably torture him for good measure, probably making him even more desolate that he was in the prison, where the Dementors at least left him along for the most part because he behaved well. Potter was sure to seek revenge … for their school days and his beloved Dumbledore's death.
Harry took out his wand and conjured a pair of magically binding silver cuffs, "Wrists." He instructed firmly. Draco swallowed hard and complied.
Harry led Draco out of the prison, watching his reactions carefully. He gave Malfoy a moment to pause at the entrance and get used to the outside light before leading him outside.
Draco gasped as he was led out of Azkaban, his positive emotions rolling in like he was on drugs. The outside air infiltrated his lungs powerfully and he gasped, eyes darting everywhere, trying to take in everything all once. The channel waters lapped up against Azkaban's rocky beach; a few crows flew overhead. Draco almost started sobbing with relief, but a sharp tug on his chains brought him back to reality. The torture of it was immense, to let him see freedom, and really appreciate it again, only so Potter could take it away from him again. The thought nearly made him sob with frustration rather than relief, and he scowled.
Harry had watched Draco's gaze of wonder with amusement, and now couldn't understand why Malfoy was scowling, "Decided you don't like the world?" He asked with a slight teasing edge to his voice.
"No, of course I like it." Draco said in a rude tone, since he was going to be going back no matter what he did, why did it matter if he behaved or not?
Harry raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding what had made Draco's attitude reverse, "I can see we're going to have to have a talk about rules when we get to the house."
"Yeah whatever." Draco said.
Harry decided to apparate without giving Draco any warning. He knew it was mean, but his prisoner had suddenly turned disrespectful and if he was going to handle living with Malfoy, then Draco would have to display less of the snarkiness that had defined their relationship throughout their Hogwarts days.
Draco gasped with pain and nearly vomited on the payment as they landed. He felt like his brain had been wrenched forcefully from his body as his legs gave way as soon as the landing was complete. He glared mutinously at Harry - already the torture was beginning and he wasn't even inside the house yet.
The house was a peculiar looking city abode; ancient, with large imposing windows and stone draconian statues decorating the entrance steps. A large brass sign reading "12 Grimmauld Place" hung above the entrance and Draco had the vague impression that he had been their sometime early in his childhood - though why he would ever have been to Potter's house he had no idea.
Harry pulled him by the cuffs into his house and directed him to sit down on a large sofa. He needed to establish ground rules early so that Malfoy wouldn't drive him crazy for the remainder of the time he was babysitting him, which the ministry had informed him could be weeks as they sought to find the security leak in Azkaban and fix the problem. Harry sighed, he wasn't sure what had flipped in Draco's mind to transform him so quickly from scared, respectful prisoner back into an arrogant brat.
"Why don't you just stuff me in whatever room you're planning on keeping me in Potter?" Draco snapped, he was not going to sit on the couch and talk to Potter. He just wanted to disappear into whatever place was designated for him and try to ride out the next few weeks with as little torturous interaction as possible. Potter hated him; he was going back to Azkaban, might as well enjoy a little peaceful solitude while it was possible.
Harry was taken aback, "I'm not going to stuff you in a room …"
"Closet then?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes in a show of bravado he didn't feel, he hoped he wasn't going to be shoved in a closet.
Harry felt a little pang in his chest, upset that Draco could think he would be that awful to him. The suggestion of a closet was painfully close to what he had endured at the Dursleys, and as much as he disliked Draco he had felt genuinely sorry for him in their last year of Hogwarts and he would never inflict that kind of misery on anyone, "No … you can move around the house as you please. It's all been spelled so you won't be able to set foot outside the door, but so long as you don't attempt to leave or go into my room, you can go where you please."
Draco opened his mouth and then shut it quickly to conceal his shock, "Fine, well I'm going to go "move around" and find the bathroom so I can shower. Take the cuffs off me."
"No," Harry said, "We're going to have a discussion first."
"Huh." Draco said and pulled away from Harry, "I guess I can manage a shower with these on."
Harry growled and before he could stop himself whipped out his wand and cast a powerful stinging hex at Draco's backside.
Draco yelped and stopped dead in his tracks. That had hurt! He turned and stared at Harry wide-eyed.
"Sorry." Harry said, though he liked that Draco was momentarily speechless, "I lost my temper and you were being a bastard."
"Whatever." Draco said, quickly recovering from the sting, "I'm going to shower."
"No, you're going to sit down so we can discuss the rules of your imprisonment."
"No, we're not."
"Yes!" Harry said, reaching out and grabbing Draco again, "We are. Now sit down. What is the matter with you?"
"Nothing!" Draco said, trying to wrench away.
Harry was almost overcome with rage. He had promised himself that he would not allow old prejudices to make him treat Draco with contempt, but his prisoner was making his resolution impossible. He'd always had a bit of a crush on the elegant, beautiful Slytherin throughout their Hogwarts days despite their rivalry, and was determined to make things better now and if could, save Draco from going back to Azkaban. He tried to think if he'd ever seen Draco show deference and respect to anyone, and only a handful of names came to mind. Surely Draco had respected the Dark Lord, but he'd also been terrified of him, which was not Harry's aim. He'd respected Snape, his father … and Harry recollected the disguised Barty Crouch as Mad-eyed Moody. He thought about that particular memory - seeing Malfoy bounce up and down on the ground until he'd been in tears.
As brutal the punishment had been, the look he'd given Mad-eye after had been laced with grudging respect. The idea of turning Draco into a ferret mildly repulsed him, but the idea of dealing out a thorough lesson to Draco's bottom that would produce that same look: the bitten lip, the beautiful grey-blue eyes teary, the lowered respectful gaze shot a little shock down Harry's spine.
Without thinking more about it, he sat down on the couch and pulled Draco face down over his lap, flipping up his robs and yanking down his dirty trousers. He left the boxers up, not even wanting to fathom what manner of creature could be lurking in the browned waist band, and brought his hand down as hard as he could in the center of Dracos's bottom.
"What are you doing?" Draco demanded in a horrified whisper.
"Spanking." Harry responded simply and brought his hand down forcefully, delivering another ten smacks distributed all over the now wriggling rear.
"You c-can't!" Draco protested, kicking as Harry continued to swat his bottom, he squirmed as hard as he could pounding on Harry's iron thighs. It was useless however, he'd always been slighter than Harry, and the time he'd spent in Azkaban without sunlight and exercise had eroded what little muscle tone he did have, and he was practically emaciated.
Harry flicked his wand to call a wooden spoon from the kitchen. He remembered from his days with the Dursleys that it could cause quite the sting. He caught it and deftly smacked against the sensitive undercurve of Draco's butt, tilting the blonde forward for better access.
Draco let out a pathetic yelp as Harry started smacking him with the spoon, "No no, you can't! Don't I get any prisoner rights?"
"No." Harry admitted honestly, cracking the spoon against the alabaster thighs, "Actually you don't, not really. The ministry said we could punish you in any way we saw fit, bind you if necessary, basically anything we wanted so long as you returned in one piece and we hadn't broken any bones. Not to sound too crass, but nobody will care if a Death Eater complains of a sore bottom."
Draco lurched forward as the spoon began to smack his thighs, "Oww!! No stop." His voice started to take on a very whiny quality and he flailed on Harry's lap trying desperately to get away.
Harry continued to rain blows on the naughty bottom as it bucked and wiggled, after a few minutes he could hear little whimpering sounds start to come from Draco, but he smacked resolutely.
Draco could not believe how much this hurt. He had never been spanked growing up, the closest he'd ever come had been the highly embarrassing experience with Mad-eye many years ago. He'd always envisioned a spanking as a rather tame experience, a couple swats across the rear, a pat on the back, and it was all over. The burn in his hindquarters was causing his ears to pound and he could not believe that his position had fallen so low that he was being spanked, hard, across Harry Potter's lap.
In the fifth year, he'd once had a very similar fantasy, but the slaps had been slow and sensuous, with only a tiny hint of a sting and then Harry had held him afterwards, his big hands softly rubbing a healing cream across his pink cheeks. The spanking he was receiving now had not even the slightest echo of his fantasy - it stung and throbbed and he could hear the resolute anger in Harry's voice, lusting for revenge.
Against Draco's will a few tears started to fall down his cheeks, "Please." He begged softly, lying limp across Harry's lap.
Harry gave him five more spanks across the lowest part of his bottom, "Are you going to behave properly? Seriously Malfoy, I swear you're trying to get yourself sent back to Azkaban."
"Oww!" Draco cried, the tears really starting to fall now, "You're going to send me back whatever I do, so what's the point in trying!"
"That's not true!" Harry exclaimed, giving him a few more spanks, "I am not planning to let you go back there if I can help it!"
Draco sniffled back tears, shocked by the slight break in Harry's voice and the fact that he'd added 'if he could help it'; like he really cared what happened to him after the security breach was fixed.
Harry put down the spoon and helped Draco to stand up, taking off the cuffs on his wrists. "You can go take a shower before we talk if you want to. Bathroom is straight up the stairs on the landing, towels etc. are there and ready for you. And an extra set of clothes." He said very softly.
Draco wiped his eyes on his filthy sleeve and fled up the stairs, leaving Harry to ponder what had just happened and why.