I awoke the next morning to a calloused hand smoothing up and down my pale chest.
Unlike last night, I didn't stiffen up; after all, it wasn't a bad feeling, just strange. He was whispering softly in Latin, causing little goose bumps to rise on my entire body and tiny shivers and quakes to rack through me. I'd never thought the language affected me so, but I never would have thought to become a slave either. As he whispered, his hand continued to slowly travel across my torso in idle looping patterns for at least twenty minutes before Potter slid away from me, rolling off of the obscenely large bed. I prepared to open my eyes, just in case Potter was going to shake me until I awoke or something, but there were just some soft murmurings, presumably to a house elf, and then I heard the shower going off in the master bath. With no one left in the room to watch me, I stretched myself out and released a loud yawn.
Glancing around, I wondered how much time I had until Potter came out and tried to initiate conversation with me. The drapes had been thrown open and beautiful sunlight was streaming in, casting a sort of heavenly glow about everything. I scooted over to the side of the bed and stood up, cautiously walking toward the French doors that led to the balcony overlooking the land that Potter Manor rested upon. I inched them apart, sparing a quick glance back at the bathroom door, where my master was still in the shower, and gasped.
The night before, I had been too distressed to note the surroundings, but this morning, the full beauty of the land hit me. The acres and acres of trees were beginning to change colors for the fall; the sky was cloudless and extended for as far as my eye could see. In the horizon, I could just make out the glinting of a lake or pond of some sort. There was a rose garden planted on the outskirts of the forest, with every color imaginable in bloom, from classic red to violet blue to a delicate gray. The grounds were very obviously well kept, bird baths and fountains set up in strategic areas and seemingly random plots of violets and baby's breath scattered. It truly was breathtaking, which was most likely what Potter had been going for. Seems like he'd grown up in the eight or so months I had been in the detainment camp.
I really could have stayed there for hours, just drinking in the natural beauty that was Potter Estates, but I really wanted to get some exploring done before he hauled me off to some place or another. With a heaving sigh, I took one final look at the scenery and turned back to the white washed French doors. I pushed them forward and took a quick peek around. The coast seemed all clear, so I stepped quietly forward back into the bedroom. As I closed the doors behind me, a loud crack and then a distressed looking house elf appeared before me. Before I could open my mouth, it began screeching in that irritatingly grating voice that house elves had.
"Oh, Mistress be awake! Mitsy be thinking Mistress had the wanting for more sleep, but here Mistress be awake! Mistress be needing clothes, yes?" At this, the homely thing grabbed my hand and hauled me closer to the wardrobes to the side of the room. "Mitsy not be believing that Mistress not set off Mitsy's wizard alarm. Mistress must be weaker than Mitsy thought."
It riffled through the entirety of the wardrobe, which was filled with vaguely girly looking things and pulled a plain, long sleeved white blouse and a knee-length black silk skirt, with the constellation Draco embroidered on it in white thread. I looked at them incredulously; surely it didn't think that I would wear such garments?
"Thank you ever so much, Mitsy, but I'm male. See?" I gestured down toward my genitalia, which were still out from my bath last night.
The creature didn't even bat an eyelash, simply opened a lower drawer and fished out a pair of lacy undergarments with the tags still attached and handed them to me. I flipped the tag over; reading the label, I noted that the little scrap of fabric was nothing to sneeze at. I tried to hand them back to her, but she pushed them towards me shaking her head, muttering something along the lines of "Master's orders." and creature-apparating away.
I shrugged; I was sure Potter would have stranger requests for me before all was said and done, and slipped the soft blouse onto my arms. It may have looked plain, but the fabric was absolutely cloudlike to the touch. With a slight blush, I shimmied the panties- and that's what they were, no use deluding either of us about that- up and fingered the skirt. Just like the blouse, it was unbelievably soft, and clearly meant for me; he did go through the trouble of personalizing it for my constellation, after all. So, I slipped the fabric up onto my waist without a second thought, wondering in the back of my mind when my hips had gotten so wide.
It sometimes amuses me to wonder what would have happened if I had refused the skirt that day. Would Harry have conceded, allowing me to keep my intrinsic manhood or would he have forced the feminization upon me even more quickly than he did? But, I didn't refuse the skirt and Harry didn't have to force me, so it's of no use for me to cry over spilled floo powder now, is it?
Anyhow, somewhere between my landscape gazing and getting dressed, Harry had exited the shower without my knowledge. I had just finished smoothing the hem of my skirt down when he appeared in front of me in just a towel, dripping water onto our bedroom carpet. I jumped back and squeaked in surprise; he moved very silently for someone so muscled.
"Good morning, princess." He said with a smile, hungrily eying my body up and down. The outfit didn't show much skin, but what little it did was hairless and more than just a tad softer and less toned than I remembered.
I felt his gaze settle heavy upon my skin and nodded.
"Good morning, Harry." His given name felt awkward in my mouth.
"You look very pretty today." He stated politely, turning away to sort through his own clothes.
"Th-thank you." I stuttered, surprised that he would drop his towel without any notice.
His tan skin fairly rippled as he moved things to and fro in his wardrobe, the muscles of his back popping up and down in a mesmerizing way. At least having some decency, I skipped over his arse and allowed my eyes to roam up and down his legs. Even when he wasn't in motion, the tense muscles of his thighs and calf looked mouthwatering and I may or may not have let out a miniscule whimper when he whipped around to face me, shrugging his own long sleeved shirt on, though his was black.
His abs were solid and completely defined; I was able to count six faint lines on his lightly furry torso. His pectorals were likewise perfect, with brown puffy nipples just begging to be sucked and bitten. And then my eyes drifted downward, where I saw it, the mammoth that Harry planned to use on me one day. Just one peek at it in its flaccid state and my heart was racing, but at the same time, I couldn't wait to wrap my hands around, my lips around it. I had most definitely zoned out and Harry was amusedly waving his large hand in my face.
"- there, Draco?"
"Whuh-huh?" I asked eloquently, shaking my head to clear it.
He chuckled, putting his hand back down to tug up the white trousers he had selected. "I said, 'Would you like me to brush your hair out for you again today, sweetheart?'" he zipped them up and looked at me expectantly.
I blushed at the endearment and nodded shyly. Harry grasped my hand in his big warm one and tugged me over to the same vanity where he had sat me to do the same task last night. Everything looked the same, except for the face in the mirror. The beauty's eyes widened in abject horror as I brought my hand up to prod at his face… which was clearly mine too. The face overall was heart shaped, a much more demure look than the ovular shape of my previous one. Gone were my heavy brows to be replaced with delicately plucked ones. My signature pointed chin and aristocratic cheekbones were lost to this face; instead, the chin was much softer and rounder and the cheeks covered in a soft layer of fat. The eyelashes were still white blonde, thank goodness, but they were much longer, thicker and curlier. My eyes looked seemingly the same, but I did notice that the shape was slightly less round than before. And the lips…the lips were a rosy red and looked plump to bursting. Perfect cock sucking lips, I couldn't help but note at the time. This face, my face, could've belonged to a woman, it was so androgynous.
"D'you like it?" Harry asked, picking up the whale bone brush and parting my hair to the side as though absolutely nothing was wrong.
I nodded absently, still in shock. So this was why Harry's Latin had caused shivers; he had been manipulating my features! The face in the mirror was aesthetically pleasing and no more attractive than what I used to look like; this face just had a feminine edge to it, whereas the one before it was more classically handsome, like the statue of David. If I looked hard enough, I could still see traces of Mummy and Father in my reflection; my mother's tiny almost elf-like ears and the signature Malfoy aristocratic nose had kept their places on my visage, albeit my nose had been shortened slightly.
Yes, the face was nice, but….how dare he? How dare he change my face without my consent? I was perfect just the way I was, pointed facial features and all. I couldn't help but fume at him in my mind. Okay, so he legally owned me and yeah, I was pretty much at his mercy, but damn it! There were only so many things that I had left, and my face was one of them. It was the one thing that had stayed constant through my hellacious life, and now...now it wasn't just my freedom that was taken, it was my identity. If I couldn't sneer like Draco Malfoy, who exactly was I?
"I told you looked pretty today, didn't I?" he smirked at my reflection, a sly expression on his face as he continued smoothing out the waves I had acquired in sleep.
"That you did." I answered woodenly. His fingers raked forward, giving me bangs that were slightly too long. I blew them up and out of my new face, shielding my eyes from the feathery hair.
"Want me to shorten them for you?" he asked, reaching down to take his wand from his holster. Without any preface, he singed my bangs off to an acceptable length.
All too soon, Harry was done, slipping a black headband with a white bow on top over my newly styled hair.
"Come along, Draco. After breakfast, we've much to get accomplished today."
I looked at him questioningly; I was still far too stunned to speak.
"Well, you didn't think the Lady of the Manor would go without presents on her birthday, did you?"
Stunned further, I shook my head slowly, not bothering to correct him. It was then that it began to dawn on me just what I was in for.