Disclaimer: Once again, this is 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.
Correction: As supersweet4evr helpfully pointed out there is an error between Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 - in the first chapter, Harry tells Draco that his father has escaped, but in the second chapter it is made quite clear that Draco does not know his father had left the prison. Chapter 2 is correct. I can't figure out how to change it on chapter 1 - if there is a way and someone wants to educate me, that would be fantastic.
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Harry stumbled through the front door and dropped his files all over the stoop as he struggled to push the door closed. He bent to pick them up, casually tapping the pile with his wand to shrink the folders and then looked up right through the bars of a large iron cage at a clean, but cringing Draco Malfoy.
Harry sat down next to the cage and scowled. "You tried to leave, didn't you?" He asked in a flat tone.
Draco brought his knees up even tighter to his chest and plucked miserably at a stray thread on his trousers, "I saw the daily prophet article. I didn't think the wards would do anything but form a barrier if I just tried to walk through without magic - and I didn't probe with magic - honest, I swear, I just opened the door and took a step - and I'm sorry I didn't realize …" Draco trailed off, realizing he had begun to babble and whimper like a small child.
Harry tapped the cage bars with his wand and the entire structure vanished from around Draco, "I warned you not to try to test the wards in any way. Did you read my note?" He demanded.
"No …" Draco lied unconvincingly and bit at his lower lip. He was instantly ashamed of the quaver in his voice - As a Slytherin he should be better at deceit than that, but there was something in Harry's very stern gaze that made Draco's stomach flip.
Reaching out, Harry took Draco firmly by the bicep and pulled him up. He was surprised at how young and scared Draco looked; shifting nervously from foot to foot and biting his lower lip, blue eyes wide and blinking rapidly. He gave the arm a reassuring little squeeze and smiled a little at Draco, before realizing what he had done, flushing a little and turning away. He pulled Draco behind him into the living room.
As soon as he realized where they were headed, Draco let out a tiny whimper and tried to wrench his arm away from Harry, "Why are we going in there?" He asked shakily when he found it was impossible to pull away.
Harry sat down on the living room couch and still holding on to Draco's arm, patted his lap, "Obviously this type of discipline makes an impression on you, so every time you do something you know you should not while you are living here, you will go over my lap and I will smack your ass until you're good and sorry, is that understood?" Harry's voice had dropped to a low growl and he eyed Draco almost predatorily, eyes scanning over the long silver blond hair, soft skin and wide blue eyes.
"I'm sorry now!" Draco protested, "Please … you don't have to!"
Draco shook nervously. His pain tolerance had never been very high, and he was sure that this spanking would hurt far more than the last, given how sore his bottom already was. Still, he couldn't quite say he was overcome with fear. Harry hadn't really injured him the last time, and he didn't appear to be that angry.
"I do have to." Harry yanked hard on Draco's arm and pulled him over his lap, flipping up the soft robs and sliding the trousers down to his knees. He could see reddness of Draco's flesh through the sheer white underwear and wondered if it would be too much if he pulled them down. He rested his hand for a moment on Draco's bottom, feeling the heat radiate through the cloth, the suppleness of the cheek and the small quiver of the skin.
"No not bare." Draco whispered in a tiny, mortified voice as Harry's hand hesitated, "Please."
Harry pulled the underwear down to meet Draco's trousers at his knees, and gasped. Despite being red and a little puffy, Draco's bottom showed clear signs of starvation, appearing flat and rather sunken. During their Hogwarts days, Harry had paid close attention to the form of Draco's behind and remembered the plush, pillow like cheeks, so bouncy and striking on the boy's slender frame. The state of his bottom now would never do; Harry intended to start feeding him right up as soon as he'd re-established his control.
Draco squirmed as he felt Harry's hand ghost over his bare flesh. The touch sent prickling sensations up his spine and he grudgingly admitted to himself that under any other circumstance, he would be turned on by being held over Harry's muscular lap, having his bare ass gently stroked by Harry's big calloused hand. In the current situation, his cock prudently remained scared and flaccid.
Harry raised his hand and Draco tensed up, gave a defeated little moan and buried his face in the couch. The hand crashed down onto his helpless bottom and Draco yelped and started to wriggle. It started to descend hard and fast all over his bucking bottom and Draco squealed.
Harry held Draco firmly onto his lap with his strong left arm, slapping powerfully with his right. He kept his hand loose and supply and whipped his fingers up and down the squirming backside. Draco's already red bum started to turn crimson.
Draco began to sniffle and whimper, his legs kicking up off the floor each time Harry smacked. He tried to remain silent, biting his lip so hard it started to bleed and swallowing a sob even as tears coursed down his cheeks. But when Harry's hand shifted and began to smack his thighs, Draco let out a wail and begged, "No, not there, please Sir not there!" His breath caught as he realized what he'd just called Harry, and his face, already bright red from crying, flushed even darker and he grabbed a pillow to sob into.
Harry pulled the spoon out of the drawer and rested it on the flaming behind. He felt Draco his arm wrap around his leg and clutch at it desperately as his body shook with sobs, "Please ... not that ... won't do it again!"
Harry resolutely smacked Draco's sit spots ten times with the spoon, eliciting a few gasped "owws" from the blonde. Then he put the spoon back into the drawer and said gently, "It's okay now, we're done, you can get up."
The grip on Harry's pant leg slackened a little, but Draco made no move to rise off his lap. He lay there crying softly, and hugging the pillow as tightly as he could. Harry leaned back against the couch and on impulse began to pat Draco's back rhythmically working his way from between the shoulder blades down to the little hollow above his backside. He half expected Draco to resist the comforting gesture and push him away, but the man just laid over his lap and sniffled, his hand still loosely gripping Harry's shin.
After laying limply for a few minutes and just enjoying the reassuring pats down his back, Draco released Harry's leg and wiped his face on his sleeve. Harry fixed his clothing and moved him so he could sit on the couch. Draco choked back another sob as his sore backside made contact; he'd thought it hurt before, but now it absolutely burned. He reached for a tissue and blew his nose, then then fiddled with the tissue, looking at his lap, unable to make eye contact with Harry. He was mortified beyond belief at having been spanked again ... and calling Harry 'Sir'.
He eventually peered up at Harry from under his wet, heavy lashes and asked, "Can I go back upstairs now?"
"Err ... okay." Harry said, wishing he could do something else to make him feel better even as he felt satisfied with himself for dealing out the discipline Draco had screamed for throughout their Hogwarts career. The blonde heaved himself up, pressed the tissue to his bitten lip and scampered up the stairs.
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Draco collapsed on the bed and slept fitfully for a couple of hours. As he always slept on his back, he couldn't get comfortable on the bed and kept waking up despite his exhaustion. When the alarm clock on his bedside table beeped 2 am, he finally gave up and opened his door.
Placed immediately next to the frame was a small tray with water, milk, a peanut butter sandwich and a couple of chocolate biscuits. Draco's stomach rumbled and he picked up the tray and scurried back into his room.
He demolished the sandwich and beverages and then sat nibbling on a cookie while he stared at the ceiling in the room. The little room was comfortable and clean. It had solid blue walls, a large bed with a blush blue comforter and a large oak wardrobe in the corner. Though plain, compared to Azkaban cell it seemed palatial and Draco found the clean simplicity of it to be comforting. The window looked over a small pond in the backyard, illuminated with a hanging lantern.
Draco eased himself out of bed and padded down the stairs. The house appeared to be dark, and he was hoping that Harry had gone to bed. He was still hungry and wanted to read the rest of the Daily Prophet if it was still on the table. A faint light in the living room was still on, so Draco tried to creep past it on his way to the kitchen. If Harry was still up, he did not want to see him, in fact, Draco told himself, he would try to get through the next few weeks without ever seeing Harry Potter again.
He was more confused about Harry than he ever had been. From fourth year on, he had watched Harry from afar, knowing the attractive Gryffindor was off limits and cursing his first year self for allowing their initial meeting to go so badly. He'd fantasized about Harry constantly; even while he'd dated a Durmstrang transfer student his mind always focused on Harry, wishing the boy's reddish curls would transform into Harry's dark flop, imagining an old Quidditch scar on the boy's leg was the lightning mark and tracing it obsessively with his fingers. And tonight, Harry hadn't beaten him and then pushed him away - he had touched him, softly patting and reassuring him; Draco could still feel the gentle contact of his strong fingers on his spine. And even the beating itself hadn't been vicious or uncontrolled; Harry had managed him, dealing efficiently without being cruel. His breath caught as his cock gave a tiny little twitch.
Harry looked up as Draco tried to slink past the door frame. He had his files spread out around him and was trying to connect the activities of two suspects together, with little luck. "Draco?" He called softly, "Do you need something?"
Draco jumped. "J-just hungry. Going to the kitchen," he stammered out.
Harry instantly put down his files and got to his feet, "I'll get you something."
"I can find the refrigerator, Potter." Draco said, his voice dripping with a cocky sarcasm he didn't feel.
"I know." Harry said, "But I'd like to make you something."
Harry went into the kitchen first used his wand to call all the ingredients for pancakes from the pantry, as well as several mixing bowls and a skillet. He decided Draco had probably had enough of toast, but he doubted his stomach could really handle that much yet. He started to mix the ingredients in a big bowl, adding chocolate chunks and stirring them in.
Draco watched Harry silently before taking a seat at the table, wincing as he did so and trying to wriggle around to find a spot it didn't hurt so much to sit on. He fished the newspaper off the other end of the table and flipped it open again. He felt so lost in the world as he scanned the headlines, not knowing who most of the politicians were or understanding references in the articles.
Harry put a plate of finished pancakes down in front of Draco and put a bottle of syrup down beside it. Draco picked up his fork and mumbled a quiet, "Thanks." Before starting to eat in earnest, reacquainting himself with the world and not noticing when Harry put a cup of tea next to his food and then silently went back to the living room.
