Draco pulled on the reins gently. "Whoa, pony." The small landau slowed and stopped. He stepped down from his driver's seat and opened the side door for his mother to climb down.
"I won't be long, darling. No more than a couple of hours."
"Of course, mother. Take your time. I know how Pansy can talk." He kissed her offered cheek and watched the elegant witch, still infamously beautiful despite being nearly sixty, glide up the steps into the restaurant. He walked back and took up the nosebag, walking round to the pony's head and removing her bit. The bag fitted neatly, hooking to bridle and halter rings. He reached inside so that she could fit her mouth onto the feeder and patted her rump affectionately.
"Good girl. I'm just going to pick up a paper. You be good now."
The blinkered head shook and the pony stamped twice. He grinned and walked over the road towards the Daily Prophet vendor. The man nodded to him. "Nice filly you have there, Mr Malfoy. New?"
"Yes. This is her first time out on the road. I always like to put the feedbag on a new pony when we stop; it helps keep her calm. Anything interesting in the Prophet?"
"Not much. There's a report on the racing, but you already know about that. I backed your filly Sunshine in the Memorial Mile on Sunday. Won myself a few galleons. I couldn't believe I got fives."
"You got fives? Damn, I only got threes. When did you back her?"
"Day she was entered. I knew she was the class of the field, even if her form hadn't been so good. Class is permanent."
"Well, good for you. Still, I better get back to my latest. She'll be getting nervous without me, out in the street for the first time with all the people around." He nodded to the man and walked back over.
"There, pony. Good girl." He stroked her head gently, his voice soothing. Several people were watching; a couple of bystanders idly remarking on her points. He knelt and ran his hands down her legs, checking for tenderness. It was always a good idea to check a newly broken pony when you first took her down the Alley; the cobbles played hell with shoes until the pony was used to planting her feet properly, and this often led to strain on the joints. He was proud of his reputation as a trainer and had no intention of losing it through careless driving.
The landau was enchanted, of course; it was far too heavy otherwise for a single pony to pull. But he preferred single ponies for driving; it kept them in form for racing as they had to pull solo then anyway.
He strolled back to the seat and took down the rough cloth he used to rub them down. It would help keep her warm, although there was a warming charm on the harness, and keep the blood flowing properly while they waited for mother.
He unhooked the nosebag. "Good pony. Was that good? Well watered now, are we? Good girl." He eased her mouth open and slid the bit back in. She shook her head again, the thick glossy mane flowing like a warm brown tide down her neck.
Shit. He recognised the two aurors approaching. Potty and his Weasel sidekick. Bugger.
"Malfoy."
"Potter. Weasley. What do you two want, as if I can't guess?"
"Documentation, Malfoy. You know the rules," said Weasley, looking smug.
He should, he thought. He'd been responsible for drafting them in the first place four years ago.
He reached under the seat and took out the packet.
"Licence. Vehicle registration. Pony registration." He suppressed the sadistic smirk that threatened to overlay his bored facade.
Potter took the first. "Draco Malfoy, licence number 01-012. Yes, that's up to date."
He took it back as Potter read through the landau registration, taking his time, and checking with his partner. Deliberately trying to rile him. He kept his face relaxed.
"That seems to be in order. Pony registration?"
He handed it over, surreptitiously palming his wand, just in case.
"Bloody hell!" erupted Weasley. Draco kept his amusement to his eyes only.
She stood, still and obedient, as she'd been trained to over the last three months. Three months of pain, humiliation and, God help her, ecstasy. She was aroused; she couldn't help it. Arousal was part of her training, as instinctive now as breathing. Her bladder was starting to feel uncomfortably full. She would have to pee soon. So far she was fairly certain that no-one had recognised her; that was unlikely to continue for long, she knew. While contracts were not registered with the Ministry, the documentation had to be kept for inspection in the carriage so that unwilling girls were not abused.
Not that she had been exactly willing; the small matter of twenty thousand galleons worth of her ex-husband's debts had been her motivation for this. Stupid bastard that he was. That she was; she had signed security for the loans, never expecting that the idiot would default on the payments without telling her. Bastard idiot probably still had half the money stashed somewhere or more likely had lent it to his useless itinerant mother with a breezy 'pay me back when you can'. Leaving her in deep with the goblins just when she'd finalised her divorce and been starting up her own practice.
It probably wasn't intentional; Ronald didn't do subtlety. But faced with the choice of angry goblins quite willing to take their money out of her hide – and blacklist her for life – or accept Draco's offer, well, it hadn't been much of a choice. And here she was, three and half months later, naked as a jaybird and harnessed up to a carriage in the middle of Diagon Alley. She could hear Harry's voice, and Ron's, somewhere behind her.
The phallus in her sex pulsed gently, a warning that master was watching her, but also an indication that he was pleased. She felt her vagina respond and stamped her left foot twice, the steel of her horseshoe cracking loudly on the cobblestones. Master was pleased and she responded to master. That reaction surprised her, intellectually. She realised that he could fuck her right now; he had the right to take her when and as he pleased per her contract; and that she'd actually quite like him to. To let Ron know what he'd done to her life. And to let him see how she responded when a man knew what the fuck he was doing sexually. Which master definitely did.
Master moved into her field of vision. "Witchfire, these aurors have read your documentation and want to be sure that you are not being coerced. I shall remove your bit. You have permission to speak in answer to their questions. Do you understand?"
Witchfire. That was what he called her. She stamped her left foot twice, bringing the knee up and down sharply as she'd been taught. Master unhooked her bit and she shook her mane instinctively; trained reaction to loosen the neck muscles even if they weren't stiff or sore.
Harry stepped into view beside master. With Ron. She didn't say anything; ponies didn't speak.
"Malfoy, please step to one side. Hermione Granger, this is an official questioning on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. You are not under arrest, nor in any sort of trouble. We only want to confirm that you entered into your contract voluntarily, that you are not subject to coercion or abuse and that you do not require any proceedings to be taken against Draco Malfoy or Malfoy Pony Stables Limited. Do you understand this statement?"
She stamped her left foot twice. Harry looked at her. "I need a verbal answer, miss Granger." She could see the anger in his eyes. The question was, of course, was it anger at Malfoy, or at her, or (much less likely) at himself.
"Yes, I understand."
"Thank you. Is this your contract with Malfoy Pony Stables Limited?" He held it up so she could see it, flipping the pages slowly so that she could read each one.
"Yes."
"And this is your signature?"
"Yes. And my initials on each page."
"Do you consider this contract binding?"
"Yes."
"The contract does not stipulate a salary; that is very unusual. Did you request a salary?"
"No. I stipulated only that Mr Malfoy cover certain debts incurred as a result of my divorce, and that my keep was included for the duration of the contract."
Harry's eyes widened, and she saw realisation in Ron's eyes. She met his apologetic gaze without response. Ron didn't matter. Master mattered.
"Have you been subject to abuse by Mr Malfoy or any of his employees?"
She'd been whipped and beaten and used like the lowest whore in creation for months on end. "No."
"Have you been deliberately hurt or injured?"
"No. Nothing beyond the punishment terms I agreed to. Mr Malfoy and his employees have been very careful to ensure that, as far as possible, I am not injured."
"Mr Malfoy paid your debts for you. Do you consider that in doing so he was taking advantage of your financial position in order to persuade you to serve as a pony?"
"No. Mr Malfoy has treated me with every courtesy. His original terms were considerably more generous than those in the contract, including both a salarium, and a lump sum of forty thousand galleons. I refused those terms for my own reasons."
"Nevertheless, it is possible for the auror department on behalf of the Ministry to charge Mr Malfoy with forced purchase. Being indebted to Gringott's is usually deemed sufficient cause."
"No, auror, it is not, unless the debtor had no other recourse; I had such a recourse. Mr Malfoy also offered me a position as his senior Arithmancer. I declined it as I considered myself unable to satisfactorily complete the duties of such an important position. If you check clause sixteen b you will find that Mr Malfoy provides me with time to study any subject I please. It is my intention to complete my Arithmancy Mastery by correspondence with the Sorbonne, after which, if Mr Malfoy's offer remains open, I shall be very happy to take him up on it. But the choice of this contract was mine, free of coercion and entirely voluntarily. Does that answer all your questions, auror?"
Harry looked at her stubborn features, his green eyes meeting her brown ones. He knew her; she would not back down if she thought she was right, and she knew he knew that. He nodded reluctantly. She opened her mouth for the bit without another word.
Master stroked her hair. "There's a good girl." He met her eyes briefly and winked. Ron looked beside himself with embarrassment and fury. She chewed the bit slightly; master recognised the signal and moved aside. She listened to their conversation.
"Is that all, Potter?"
"Yes, Malfoy, that's all."
"Weasley? Anything to add?"
"One day, Malfoy, you'll pay for this. Mark my words. You can't treat Hermione like this."
"I can and I am, Weasley. And she likes it."
She let go shamelessly, standing still and upright and letting the hot wee run down her thighs as she'd been trained to do. Master would wipe it off her, and dip his finger in her damp pussy hair to wet her bit with the salty liquid just as she liked it. She smiled to herself as Ron sputtered incherently. It was alright, being a pony.
Epilogue
"Draco, the projections for the Anders project are completed. They're on your desk."
"Thanks, Granger. Worthwhile?"
"Looks that way."
"Good. We'll start moving on it tomorrow, first thing."
"That's fine. Right, that's me finished with paperwork for the day. I'll be waiting outside."
"Of course. I'll be five minutes. Maybe ten."
She nodded. "Sam, help me with the landau, will you?"
"Of course, miss Granger. Anything special for the pony today?"
"I think a clit clamp with spiked ball. She's due a good gang-bang and I want that pussy good and tender for it. And the heavy whip to welt her arse properly."
"Yes, miss Granger. Should I water the bit?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. I'll piss on it instead. Better give her something she likes as well as the pain."
"Yes, miss Granger."
Draco walked out the gleaming glass entrance doors. Where was she? Oh, there. He walked over and kissed his lover's cheek, climbing into the driver's seat.
"All set then, darling?"
Hermione stamped her hoof and he smacked her naked arse hard with the whip. "Gee up, then. Malfoy Manor, and don't spare the pony."
Hermione Granger, Arithmancer-in-Chief and deputy CEO to Malfoy Industries Limited, drove her feet down hard and dragged the landau into the air. It was ten miles to Malfoy Manor and as always she was going to savour every deliciously painful second of it.