Pt2

It had been four days since Master Potter had come to Draco's room and snogged him. Why? Draco had no idea and he did not quite care. But from the familiar hesitance and mix of emotions he had seen in the other man, he reckoned Master Potter was trying to explore his sexuality. Needless to say, Draco had already done that with Blaise. So when his owner had walked in and he had to go from scrubbing the floor to snogging him he was not fussing over the fact that it was a man holding him. What irked him was that it was Potter and that the man had askedhim how he would feel about the new additions to his chores rather than allowed Draco to carry on with the notion that Master Potter had turned into a cold and vindictive person who did not give a shit about how he felt. It would be harder for him to keep himself closed off if he was shown kindness, no matter how little. That was how dreadfully deprived he was.

So now he was sitting in Master Potter's lap as he snogged the man. He was not bad, and part of Draco had been yearning for some sort of sexual contact with another human being for quite some time. The war had not exactly done any wonders for him in that area. But it made him squirm uncomfortably having Master Potter's hands on his hips. In actuality Master Potter's hands were not the problem. He had meant it when he said sex was sex and he was closed off enough not to care too much that he was practically the man's personal escort.

What bothered him was the current state of his body. He was too thin and looked too worn. He saw the glance Master Potter had cast him when the man felt the sharpness of his pelvis. He had tried to eat more frequently but half the time he did not want to venture outside of his room if he did not need to, or he would promise himself to go right after he finished the task he was focused on at that moment but would never actually go. At least three times now he had nearly fainted but managed not to.

Master Potter kissed at Draco's neck and he nearly gasped at the sensations he was no longer used to feeling. He felt a shiver run down his spine and lightly held the man's head against his neck. He had to remember that he was in no way in control of what would happen so he refrained from taking any sort of definitive action. The man took Draco's other hand and guided it down to his jeans, where Draco could feel a bulge that was not a result of a bent zipper. He took it for what it was and began to palm Master Potter through his jeans. The man paused to undo the clothing and pulled out his half erect cock. Draco swallowed at the sight of it and felt a burning inside him that he had not realized was still there.

"Go on," Master Potter said, a trace amount of anxiety to his voice. He swallowed and nodded at Draco.

He wrapped his fingers around it and felt it twitch in his hold. He squeezed and stroked slowly. His hands were dry from the cleaning agent that he used to scrub the floor with. "Lubricant," he said.

"Wh- Oh. Acciolube," Master Potter mumbled, as he flicked his wand. He caught the bottle that flew at him and handed it to Draco.

He poured some into his palm and set the bottle down. He was not sure how long it had been since he had last done this but he had not exactly been feeling comfortable enough with himself to even have a wank, as he would always lose interest. So it had been quite some time. He let some of the lube in his palm drip onto Master Potter's cock before he took hold of it and began to stroke and pull. He massaged the head and Master Potter groaned and lay back onto the floor. Draco slid his hand down to the base and then began to make long and slow pumps. He paused to thumb Master Potter's slit before he began pumping his hand in twisting strokes. He applied the most pressure to the head of the man's cock and tried to gauge which motions were causing the best reactions.

Master Potter was bucking his hips and gasping and then Draco slid his other hand to the man's balls. He felt them tighten in his grasp, he felt the cock pulse, and he saw the cum spurting onto his owner's stomach and all over his hand. He gave a few more strong pulls, milking the man. He continued to massage him lightly until he was told otherwise and sat there semi-aroused and waiting for further instructions.

The other man cleaned himself and Draco's hand and told him that he could resume his original task. Master Potter motioned for Draco to get off his lap and he moved to do just that before his head swam, his world tilted and his vision blurred as he stumbled back to the floor.

So, Malfoy had fainted after giving Harry one of the best wanks of his life. He was not quite sure whether or not he should feel insulted but he was sure that he should do something in the meanwhile. Perhaps call Hermione... who was spending the day with her parents... or Molly. He could call Molly. He tugged his pants and trousers up and made sure not to look as if he had just done anything remotely sexual before he floated Malfoy to the couch in the front room. They were on the first floor after all. Harry set him down carefully. He went over to the fireplace and tossed in some floo powder and called The Burrow. Wars and violence he could handle. Injuries, illness, not so much...

"Hullo," Ron said from the other side of the flames. "Oh Harry, hey."

"Hey," he nodded quickly. "Is Molly home?"

"Yeah... she is," Ron responded, frowning. The red head turned and hollered for his mother to come to the floo. "What do you need Mum for? You tried cooking and had it explode on you?"

"No, I didn't," Harry said sternly. "I can actually cook, Ron. You'd know that if you tried it sometime. Anyway Malfoy's-"

"Harry, dear?" came Molly's voice. Ron bustled out of the way and allowed her to take his place in front of the hearth. "Is there something you need? I saw you eyeing my shepherd's pie recipe the other day and I'd be-"

"It's not about that, though I do want it, yes," he started. "I –well you see... Malfoy's fainted and I'm not quite sure what to do..." he said slowly.

Molly frowned and looked about to say something before she nodded and stood. "I'm going to floo over, dear. Best you get out of the way," she said.

"Uh, yeah," he muttered, as he stood. In the background he could hear Ron muttering things about how Malfoy caused trouble no matter what they did. Right now Harry quite agreed with that. Not a few minutes ago though, then he was thinking that Malfoy had hands imbued with magic and could do no wrong.

The fireplace roared and Molly stepped out of it dusting soot from her clothes. Ron came in almost right after her, no doubt curious about what was going on and more than willing to see the ex-Death Eater in any sort of vulnerable situation. Harry hoped they did not ask too many questions.

"Well then, where is he?" she sighed. She may not want to help Malfoy but Harry reckoned her maternal instincts still saw the blonde as somewhat of a boy. Harry rather thought that after the war they were all pretty much adults now.

"Over here," he said, as he went over to the couch where Malfoy lay breathing shallowly. Molly stopped before she was beside the couch and gave the man a one over, frowning as she did so. She stepped up beside him and cast a few spells. Harry and Ron simply stood there watching.

"Has he been eating, Harry?" she asked, without looking at him.

"Uh... I would assume so. We don't generally eat around the same time," he replied.

"He's so frail," she murmured. Harry was not sure if he imagined the hint of pity in her voice.

"He's been like that ever since I bought him at the auction," Harry said.

"I wish we could find some other way to refer to it. Buying someone sounds..." Molly tutted and shook her head. "Anyway, he's just fatigued and malnourished from what I can tell. Do you know what he was doing when it happened?"

When she asked that Harry hoped his face was not turning pink. He could hide his emotions at times but not when he was standing in front of Molly Weasley. "He was cleaning I think," he lied. Unless emptying Harry's balls was considered cleaning.

"Harry's got Malfoy helping him clean up Grimmauld," Ron supplied. "So, what now?" he asked, as he gestured to Malfoy.

"Well, firstly," she said, turning to Harry and holding his eyes, "we need to get him some nourishment. I've got some potions at home. He also needs rest, Harry, so no chores for a while. He needs to start eating properly, and sleeping as well."

"You can't expect me to monitor all this," he pointed out. For Merlin's sake, Harry was not supposed to be babysitting the man. He was supposed to put him to work, of all sorts.

"I reckon Malfoy can sort himself out at the end of summer," Ron said. "No need for us to do all the work for him. Working for Harry is how Malfoy pays back his reparations. It's not vacation time."

"How long will he be like this?" Harry asked.

Molly sighed and folded her arms. "You know if it were last year I reckon you boys wouldn't be so heartless," she mused. "It's a pity you had to live through a... a war."

"Mum," Ron said softly, "Don't start with that now. You couldn't have done anything to keep us out of it."

"I know... I just..." she took a breath and dabbed at the corner of her eye.

"How long until Malfoy's in better shape?" Harry asked gently.

"It'll take him a while to get back to full health but with potions and attention he should start feeling a lot better in about two weeks. That's doesn't mean you can put him to work then, Harry, just that he'll be making noticeable progress by then."

"All right," he conceded. "I won't."

"I'll go get those potions and give you the instructions. If you need any help you can floo," she said, before she went back to The Burrow.

"She's been coddling everyone and looking for people to take care of ever since... Fred," Ron said quietly.

"I know," he said. He turned and looked towards the couch, "I reckon it extends to Malfoy as well."

"Godric knows why."

When Draco came to he was lying in bed and he could hear the shuffling of feet and the murmur of voices that soon became louder once his senses cleared. He listened carefully and managed to identify Master Potter and someone that sounded familiar, though not in a particularly good way. He resigned to feigning sleep until he felt less out of sorts. It was something he had become fairly adept at during the war. Sleep a little longer and he could put off seeing his Aunt Bella. Sleep a little longer now and he could put off seeing Master Potter and whoever else was in the room.

"About how long do you think he was out before you found him, Harry dear?" said a woman. The owner of the voice he could not place.

"Uh, not long I reckon," Master Potter said. The man had clearly told some sort of lie to whomever he was speaking to. "I heard a thud and went to see what the commotion was."

"Hmm," the woman hummed. "Well, I've got to go finish making dinner. Floo if anything happens, all right?"

"I will, Molly. Don't worry. And yes I'll keep in mind that he's in no shape to be put to work."

Oddly enough, he did not feel in any way phased that the Weasley woman had probably nursed him back to some semblance of health. He reckoned that he was grateful she got rid of his mad Aunt Bella, morbid as that was. Once he heard her leave, Master Potter supposedly following her out, he opened his eyes and sat up. He was in his room, which looked a fair bit cleaner, and a number of nourishment potions were on the table beside him. Draco reckoned he should have eaten earlier.

With a twitch of his brow, he let the regret pass. There was nothing he could do about it now so why bother to think about it. He got out of bed and made his way to the loo so he could empty his bladder. Once he was finished and had proceeded to his room he came across a very displeased Master. He waited for his scolding.

"Are you trying to kill yourself while in my home, Malfoy?" Master Potter spat at him. "Because really, that's the only justification I can use to even begin to fathom why you're starving yourself. It's not as if I've put food restrictions on you. I haven't. I might over work you, I'll admit that. Not even might, I do. But I'm not here starving you. Well? Why haven't you been eating?"

"I have been eating, Master Potter," he responded. It was true, he had. It was not as if he went out of his way to starve himself. It just sort of happened. Truth be told, Draco thought he was eating morethan he had been before coming here. All the manual labour was causing him to burn it up faster was all.

"I'm sorry if your fainting from fatigue and malnourishmenthas falsely led me to believe that you aren't eating," the man said sarcastically. "From now on, you're eating properly. And you're taking nourishment potions to quicken things along. This isn't St. Mungo's, Malfoy. I'm not here to be your caretaker. Do it. Those instructions override your chores at the moment."

He agreed to Master Potter's not so ridiculous demands and part of him had the insane thought that regulating his diet was going to be more work than all the household chores he had been doing.

"And Malfoy," Master Potter called once Draco was half way to his room. "You're good at potions, aren't you?"

"I am," he admitted.

"Since you can't do any of the housework, I'll have you help me prepare for my Potions NEWTs," the man said.

Draco nodded and went to his room. He rather thought ridding the house of doxies would be easier than teaching Potter Potions. He recalled their classes together and thought the task impossible. He would not complain though. He did not have a say in the matter.

All right, so maybe having Malfoy teach him Potions was not the best idea Harry had ever had. For one, the theory behind it was far too convoluted for him to grasp easily. What did it matter if something was crushed to a paste in the mortar instead of diced until it formed a paste? How was it possible that one extra turn of the rod would have catastrophic results? Why did it matter whether or not a cauldron was cleaned manually or with magic? Harry liked having flexibility and freedom. All the rules and restrictions in potions were not something he could do well with.

Then there were the various texts. The books were tomes. A "light read" was the size of a Muggle bible that had both testaments in it. One book could be about a single ingredient, its various types (if it was a plant or something that had varying species), how it has been treated, how it is chopped, ground, steamed, boiled and Merlin knew what else. Where the bloody hell did Snape and Malfoy find the timeto sit and read these? The Potions Master had probably been pasty because he had spent all his time reading in the dungeons when he had not been playing double agent.

Harry wondered briefly if Malfoy had known that about Snape.

The other reason was that Harry would get distracted by the man's hands every now and then. He would watch them and want them on his cock instead of whatever it was the man was touching.

"You aren't reading anymore, Master Potter," Malfoy said from across the table. The man was attempting to eat some oatmeal but Harry reckoned that with how long the man was taking the food was cold and slimy by now.

"And you aren't eating," he said. "It's replaced your chores, Malfoy, but it needn't look like one. Eat or I'm going to have Kreacher force feed you."

The man stared at the food for a moment and then reluctantly set about his task. Harry sighed and dipped his quill in some ink before he went back to studying. How Malfoy made eating seem like such a chore, he would not understand. He also doubted he would understand how the man had managed to begin viewing it as a chore in the first place. Harry enjoyed food. He savoured his meals and he tried not to waste it. If it was too much to finish that day then he could eat it the next. If he was hungry and there was no meat in the house, well, there was always flour and baking powder so he could make biscuits or he could have some toast if there was bread. There was no reason to go hungry and no reason to wantto go hungry. Hunger was a dreadful thing.

"Master Potter, you still aren't reading," Malfoy said.

Harry looked up and saw that the man had actually finished his food. He had half a mind to have Malfoy make notes for him and then he could go over them instead of reading this tome of a book. He had one more to go after this and then they would start practical potions practice. They would have to go shopping for ingredients first though. Harry was bollocks at choosing quality ingredients. Everything looked pretty much the same to him.

"Outline the more important sections of the next book while I finish this one," he said. He reckoned that did not count as overworking Malfoy. All the man had to do was read up on a subject he liked.

Draco closed the book he was reading and set the notes he had made on top of it. He was yet to finish his task but he was supposed to eat and rest accordingly and would attempt it. So far eating was going along much better than sleeping was. Never mind that he was retaining fluid and wanted to retch at times, the diarrhoea he could do without though. Since arriving at Grimmauld Place, Draco had not been able to sleep properly. He would rest and he would fall into a sort half slumber. The brief periods of actual sleep that he got were accompanied by memories and nightmares that he would rather avoid. It would probably be best if he took sleeping draughts and small doses of dreamless sleep. The regular dose would work best but his stomach was probably too sensitive to handle it at the moment. He drank one of his nourishment potions instead and tried to sleep.

He was at the Manor and could hear the screams that echoed in the room. He smelled the stench of wet dog. He could hear the snap and crunch of bones. His eyes were forced open and he watched something that he was sure he had seen before. Greyback was there tearing at a girl with his teeth and his claws. Draco could not stand it. Could not stomach it. If he defied the Dark Lord, he knew he would have a similar fate. If it was not Greyback, then it would be Nagini. He was made to watch them feed. They all were, as warning.

He thought about how much her flesh looked like meat and he retch-

A gasp escaped him as he lurched into wakefulness. Draco clamped a hand over his mouth and swiftly made his way towards the bathroom. If he sullied the floor he would likely have to clean it. He swung the door open and mentally scolded himself for the way it slammed against the wall. That would likely wake Master Potter. There was nothing he could do about that now though so he emptied his stomach in the toilet and hoped that his retching was not too loud as he shook and shivered from the remnants of his dream, his memory.

At some point he registered that the other man had come to the bathroom. He had a few dry heaves before his stomach calmed and his coughing stopped. His throat felt dreadful. He sat back and wiped his mouth with his hand. Movement in the small room reminded him of his owner's presence and he flinched when he looked up and saw that Master Potter had his wand out. The man flicked it and muttered a Tergeobefore Draco felt his hands and face tingle with magic.

That kindness was fairly unexpected.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the man hissed. "I didn't pay fifty galleons to be your private nurse- Medi-Wizard. Get yourself together, Malfoy. Vomitting is not part of your recovery."

"I didn-" he rasped. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I didn't do it intentionally, Master Potter."

"Oh? Then what the fuck happened, Malfoy?"

"Nightmare," he said, as he got up. He staggered a bit but was fine after a few moments. Master Potter did not reply. He only stared at Draco as if he was trying to figure out whether or not he had lied. Draco took the time to flush the toilet and gargle the taste of sick from his mouth.

When he was finished, Master Potter continued to watch him but said nothing. The man left the loo and muttered at him to go back to sleep. Draco ambled his way to his room and only after he stepped inside did he hear the other man's door click shut.

"Hermione, why in Merlin's name are you here so early?" Harry grumbled into his pillow. He had woken up to the continuous call of his name and had seen a stern faced Hermione hovering over him.

"We're going shopping for potions ingredients today, Harry. Ron's already downstairs. It's best we go early so that I have time to explain everything to you as we go along," she explained, as she tossed some clothes at him.

"What?" he groaned. "If you already know you're going to take a ridiculous amount of time explaining every ingredient to us then why didn't you just give us notes or something? Besides, I told you I'm having Malfoy tutor me. He's good at potions. So I can sleep in today."

"You're supposed to be letting him rest, Harry," she scolded. "Now, up. Go get ready. Take him along if you want."

"He can't sleep all day. He has to do something. Especially since I have to do all the cleaning now, and Kreacher too. You know you lot could help with that at least," he said.

"Just go and get ready, would you? I'll put on a pot," she said. "And I'll wake Malfoy while I'm at it."

"What for?" he asked around a yawn. He got out of bed and grabbed the clothes she had tossed at him.

"He's your tutor now, isn't he? I don't see any need to explain everything to you if you've already got someone to do it," she said in a mocking tone. "And he hasn't left Grimmauld since being here. I reckon he wants to go outside."

"Hmph," he snorted. "I don't see that going over very well. Whatever. Wake him up."

He walked to the loo and was fairly pleased that Malfoy's bowels had settled and the man no longer occupied it whenever Harry needed to use it. If he had known how absolutely inconvenient this would have been he would have moved the man to the first floor so that they had separate bathrooms, though Molly would have had his head for it since there were no actual bedrooms down there.

He sighed and turned on the tap before he shed his clothes and stepped into the shower. He soaped up and rolled his eyes at the way his cock decided it wanted attention. It had been some time since he had Malfoy service him. Apart from some heavy snogging, he had not asked much more of the man since the fainting incident. He reckoned it was time he got a good wank from him, or maybe something new. He exhaled at the way his hand worked his cock and he thought back to the way it had felt when Malfoy had wanked him, had massaged his balls. He imagined that the blonde had teased at his entrance and slid his finger carefully inside. With a stifled groan he pulsed his pleasure into the shower.

When he went downstairs Ron was nursing a cup of coffee, Malfoy was sitting expressionless at the far end of the table and Hermione was pouring him tea of all things. The man thanked her and both he and Ron frowned at how odd it sounded. Hermione, on the other hand, had a slow smile forming on her face and she was far too sincere when she said "you're welcome". She really had been in too good a mood since finding her parents.

They ate some sausage and eggs with toast and Hermione kept glancing at Malfoy to see if he was eating. Harry rolled his eyes and ignored it. The man had been doing fairly well and had gained a ridiculous appetite once he had started eating again, something Hermione herself had told him would happen, so he did not know why she bothered to keep checking on him. If the man was likely to do anything detrimental to his recovery, Harry thought it would be in private, like when he had found the man retching in the bathroom. Never mind that it was only one instance.

He still was not quite sure if he believed Malfoy's nightmare story.

Diagon Alley was practically empty when they arrived. The shops looked as if they had just opened and many of the vendors were still yawning away the remnants of sleep. Harry really wished Hermione was less of a morning person so that he could have stayed in bed. Malfoy tagged along behind him and they all went to the apothecary.

According to the regimen that Malfoy had created for Harry, he needed to buy a few things that Hermione had not included for Ron. He was going to tackle a few first year potions to get himself reacquainted with the subject and probably so that Malfoy could see what he was working with. Then they would move on to more difficult potions as they went along. Harry was also supposed to be practicing his chopping, dicing, slivering, salting and all those preparatory things that were usually done to ingredients. Malfoy had also told him that learning how to cook from a recipe, even though Harry normally followed them a bit loosely, would help but did not outright tell him that he should do it. The man was still very mindful of the fact that Harry was in charge of him and not vice versa, something Hermione thought would make the entire arrangement completely pointless since he could just have the man do most the work if he told him to. Malfoy was not one to talk back to him about anything.

Well, not anymore.

Looking at his list, he went to find the ingredients he needed. The ones for first year potions were not difficult to locate but when he reached the more difficult things Harry found himself fumbling about. He carried what he had gotten to so far over to Malfoy and the man inspected the ingredients. His face gave Harry no clues as to how well or how badly he had done. Harry looked around the apothecary as he waited and smiled when he saw Ron's eyes glazing over as Hermione spoke to him about... bubotuber pus? He was not quite sure what it was in the jar.

"Half of these are incorrect, Master Potter," said Malfoy.

Harry turned back to the man with a frown. "What do you mean incorrect? Those are right. I studied," he complained.

"I didn't mean to imply that you hadn't studied, Master Potter, but the mistletoe berries aren't supposed to be dry for the Antidote to Common Poisons. You need to buy them fresh at the conservatory," Malfoy explained. "The only instance where you buy dried mistletoe is when you buy the leaves on their own or if you're using the berries in something that isn't an antidote, otherwise it's toxic."

"This Chizpurfle carapace is more damaged than will be useful in any potion. It's difficult to explain what's passable and what isn't so I'll show you when I follow you to recollect these ingredients. Your-"

"Is that the Malfoy brat?" spat a coarse voice. Harry looked up to see a thin man coming from the back room of the apothecary. "Oh, Mr. Potter, good morning. He's not harassing you, is he?" the man said in a ridiculously polite tone. A huge turnaround from when he had seen Malfoy.

"He isn't," Harry said, before turning back to Malfoy and nodding at him to continue.

The man continued with his explanations and then proceeded to show Harry the proper items and ingredients. He identified the things that Harry had neglected to collect because he did not know what they were and he let him chose the ones he thought were correct and then amended the things he had gotten wrong. Harry found it a fair bit easier to remember than all the lectures Hermione and Snape would give. He was less likely to go into a daze this way.

After their time at the apothecary, which took fairly long because of Ron and Hermione, they headed to the conservatory.

Every glance he got was either a sneer or a hateful glare. Draco had known that not nearly enough time had passed for anyone to be able to look at him without remembering what he was or what he had done. He saw the blame in their eyes, the malice, the vicious intent. Passers-by were torn between giving him hateful looks and admiring Master Potter. The change between the two states was so drastic that their eyes would flutter before they went from one extreme to another, from hero worship to unbridled hate. He suspected that the only reason they had not thrown anything at him or hexed him was their fear of hitting Master Potter or one of his friends.

He and the trio had almost managed to complete their trip without incident but then they came across an area of Diagon Alley that was normally somewhat vacant. There he saw a small podium and a sign that said "Hex the Death Eater: Two Knuts" and he froze. Accompanying it was a list of names and times of day that certain people would be available and his surname had caught his eye. Lucius would be here.

"Oi, want to join in, Malfoy?" said a smooth voice.

Draco turned and saw a stern looking witch ambling towards him. He stepped away from her and began to move towards Master Potter and his companions, keeping an eye on her all the while. The man and his companions had not seemed to notice that he had fallen back.

"We've only got one of the three of you," she said. "I reckon that whoever bought you might be willing to offer you up as well. I wonder if you're as proud as he is? Your father. Trying his best to hold it all in when we all know how much it hurts, because we've felt far worse."

He did not reply to her. He had no idea what he would sound like at the moment. It had been some time since he had even whispered his father's name. It had been difficult to even think about his parents after his extended boggart incident. Eventually he had gotten too used to the sight and the sound of it that the creature had miraculously retreated.

The woman's eyes flickered towards the group ahead of him. "Do one of themown you?" she inquired. "That must be interesting. What's it like living with one of the war heroes? Without them you'd be revelling in whatever sick fantasies you had before the end of the war. Still won't say anything to me? Maybe they took your voice, painful thing that. The look on Carrow's face when they ripped his voice from him was priceless. People get creative during these free for alls. "

This woman would have made a good Death Eater, he thought. The feeling he got from her made him all the more wary.

"Oi, Malfoy," Weasley called angrily.

"Want to hear what's been done to your father?" she asked.

He fought the sudden urge to lash out at her. He was wandless and would not fare well in any sort of fight at the moment. He had neither the magic nor the strength.

"Malfoy, what do you think-" Master Potter started when he neared him. The woman caught his eye and he gave her a quick once-over. "Are you harassing my property?"

"Mr. Potter," she smiled, her eyes too bright. "I was just having a word with him, though he didn't actually talk."

"Well, I've got to get going so the conversation's going to be cut short," the man said. He nodded at Draco to go to Weasley and Granger, and he did. The woman was less likely to hex him now that his owner was between them.

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in that over there, Mr. Potter," she said. "You more than anyone should understand what they put us through."

"... It's not my thing," he heard Master Potter say.