Disclaimer: I own naught.

Warnings: Slavery. Non-con. Angry!Harry. Violation. Abuse.
Pairings: HP/lm/ss. VK/HG.

Rainbow Row
By: Bucket/Replacement for the Stars/filthyfreedom

Chapter Two:
Collared

(O.o)

They were chained, both of them, their hands tied behind their backs and forced to their knees in a second. Hermione wondered how long they had been forced to stand like that; Harry lifted his hand again and the chains keeping them tethered to the ground and consequently in the cell shortened to an almost uncomfortable length.

Harry waved his hand and Malfoy's hands were free. They stayed behind him for a long moment and then slowly moved to land limply at his sides. The bond was already in effect, then, if Malfoy was not doing to damnedest to kill Potter. Harry looked down at the collars he held casually in his hands and held out both of them.

"Choose."

One was red and the other gold; the perfect matched pair. Hermione felt nearly sick and turned slightly away from Fudge so he could not see the disgust as it roiled up around her face. Slowly, Malfoy reached out and touched the gold collar; Hermione could feel it in the air when Harry sneered. "Good boy, pet," Harry snarled, and Hermione watched as Malfoy's bare chest flushed into a pink so light it could have said to never exist at all even as his body recoiled and his chin lifted haughtily. "Put it on."

After nearly a minute of tense silence, Malfoy complied, and the moment the collar magically resized itself to his neck and then clicked shut with a loud, final snap, he collapsed to the ground, nearly writhing in agony. Hermione wondered how the bond was hurting him for forcing his Master to hate him; Harry's brilliance was disheartening. A Master/slave bond that relied on physical, sexual touch from the Master? He was going to kill them before he had any fun with them.

Harry readjusted his grasp on the branding iron, dropping down on one knee as the lightning bolt suddenly flared searing red-hot. Obviously touching Malfoy as few number of times as possible, Harry flipped the blond man over and without warning, slammed the iron into Malfoy's right cheek. Malfoy let out a crow of pain as his flesh bubbled beneath the iron, and Hermione readjusted so that she could see Harry's gaunt face. As she had expected, it was emotionless except for the calculating glaze to his eyes. He liked what the pain did, what agony the bond forced Malfoy to feel, and Hermione almost did not want to know what Snape would suffer. He had belittled and mocked Harry for years and Hermione was well aware that there was no one left alive that Harry hated more than Severus Snape.

After a good three minutes of burning his brand into Malfoy's cheek, Harry removed the iron and looked down at Malfoy's lightly twitching left arm, where the Dark Mark resided as a pale grey scar. Harry swiftly shoved the iron against the Mark, ignoring Malfoy's new cry of pain—evidently even Malfoy's felt pain—as he absently tapped his fingers against his knobby knee.

Hermione wrenched her gaze from the horrific sight and found it locked on Snape's burning black gaze. There was no pleading, no desperation; for a horrific moment, Hermione wondered if Snape actually wanted this, if he wanted to belong fully and true and completely to someone, even if that someone utterly hated him, but she quickly dismissed it as impossible. Snape had lived the majority of his life under two Masters; why would he want another, especially one such as Harry?

However, when Harry finished the last brand on Malfoy's lightly twitching body—this one right in the middle of his rather well-developed pectoral muscles, Hermione had to admit—and told Snape to put on the Gryffindor scarlet collar after releasing his hands, the man took it without hesitation and writhed on the ground as well, Harry watching interestedly.

Harry did not waste any time in branding Snape. He shoved the iron right up onto Snape's left cheek and stared up at the ceiling until he felt it was done, Snape letting out a low keening sound. Harry reheated the iron as he brusquely pushed it against Snape's faded Dark Mark, and then once more to the middle of his chest, digging it in deep for good measure. Harry stood up, looking rather accomplished and turned back as he Banished the branding iron, smirking triumphantly at Hermione.

"Well, Fudge, was that what you thought it was going to be?" Harry snarled and Fudge shook his head, bringing out a monogrammed handkerchief to blot his forehead with as Harry crossed his arms smugly over his thin chest and leaned back against the far wall of the cell. Malfoy had managed to force himself up into a sitting position, as Snape was still writhing slightly from the agony of Harry's hate, and Hermione watched in horror as Harry looked curiously down at the struggling Malfoy and then lifted one finger. Malfoy was slammed flat against the stone floor, his horrifically burned cheek pressed to the uneven stone, and before Hermione could protest—they were people, after all!—Harry lifted his gaze and stared her down.

What had he become? What had they done to him? Oh, poor Harry, Hermione thought, and then immediately shoved away the thought. Pity would only cause Harry to become infuriated with her and now that he had an outlet, Hermione was well aware of where his fury would be placed. She had not been fond of Snape, either, but he was extraordinarily talented in potions and she had been raised to respect her teachers, even if she did not like them.

"Not quite, Master Potter," Fudge admitted, and after blotting his entire face one last time, he tucked his handkerchief away and looked pointedly at the two men lying in agony at Harry's feet. "Do you expect their assets to be unfrozen?"

Harry's not-quite-thin lips curled into a dangerous, shark-skin smile and Hermione diverted her gaze. "Why, yes," he drawled, settling even more comfortably against the cell wall, "I believe that would be wise. After all, their assets do belong to me…"

By the widening of Malfoy's grey eyes, Hermione understood that he understood and she squeezed her own brown eyes shut, refusing the knowledge. Draco Malfoy was the Malfoy Heir, and as Lucius had been incarcerated in Azkaban, Draco had received all of the Malfoy assets. However, it was Harry's right to seize them back, and Hermione was quite aware that he was going to do such a thing. It would hurt not only Draco, but his father, as well.

"Fudge, lead us out of here," Harry snapped, and stepped forward, intentionally pressing the heel of one of his boots to Snape's long fingers, just to listen to the man's soft grunt of pain. He paused as the two men struggled to their feet, and magic only shoved them back to their knees. Harry 'tsk'ed disapprovingly, shaking his head mockingly. "Crawl," he ordered them, and swept away.

Hermione only paused long enough to see Snape and Malfoy throw one another glances and then fall to their hands and comply. She then followed right behind Harry and Fudge, Harry pausing at every corner to allow his slaves to catch up.

She could see the malicious glee in his green eyes and vaguely, she wondered why he had not branded their hands, if only to make the crawling more difficult.

-Replacement for the Stars