Oh my, my friends! Never before have I been so grateful for my readers. I was shocked by the level of support and reviews I received after last chapter. We reached well beyond ten reviews and as such here is the promised early chapter! So thank you thank you thank you! I hope this chapter is reward enough...despite what it contains. Hopefully you guys wont be too angry at me...as it means what follows its end. Also, because I don't want to turn into the author that becomes too selfish on reviews...I will leave it completely up to my you guys, my faithful readers, to supply me with whatever you wish to leave. Ultimately my goal for this finished story, which will be broken down in at least two parts, is 100 reviews. Yet, I am more than satisfied just knowing someone out there is enjoying my writing. So, enjoy!

TWO MONTHS PREVIOUS:

"Harry I don't know," Lev scratched at the back of his bald head nervously as he slowly ate his sandwich with one hand, "It's asking a lot." He laid his turkey club back down and leveled his eyes with the vibrant green ones in front of him. Harry simply pleaded back with a more vicious stance than what before was directed at the larger man. Lev swallowed what food he was chewing and washed it down with a swig from his butterbeer, ignoring the look.

"Besides, that Dragon is one hard headed mule," he looked around aimlessly as if the answers would be found in the small eatery the two had ventured after their second session, "who's to even say it could work?" He reached for a chip in his basket, and took the time to admire the small venue. Quaint, yet still nice, the sandwich shop had been Harry's idea. In means, as the green eyed gremlin had claimed, to get to know one another in a more equal setting. Or, as what Harry really meant, a means to deliver and negotiate his far fetched plan.

Harry chewed at the bottom of his lip, ignoring his own sandwich of roast beef and pepper jack, "It will work Lev," he shot his brows higher and leaned in to whisper in a lower tone, "just trust me ok?" Harry nodded earnestly after speaking, whiles watching Lev take another bite of food, "I know Draco, eventually that hard ass Dragon hide of his will crack but," he leaned back and finally took his first bite of lunch, "you have to be with me on this." Harry gestured to the paper laying in the center of the table; their contract for the "Dragon's Keep."

Lev glanced down at the seemingly harmless parchment, then back up at Harry, all the while still eating his turkey club. He took a few bites, swallowed, washed it down with some butterbeer, than ate a handful of chips, "This is dangerous." He took another swig. Harry immediately wandessly refilled the glass. Lev nodded his thanks before looking down again at the contract. He rubbed at his eyes, thinking, but said nothing.

Harry seemed to begin squirming in his seat directly opposite of Lev. The taller man watched as he took another small bite of his meal, which the other couldn't help but noticed was hardly touched. He glanced down at his own, now empty, food tray. Lev sighed heavily then reached to finally read the offered agreement. Harry immediately perked up, as he straightened his back and wiggled around to lean more of his small body across the round table. Lev hid his knowing smile.

"Now this is completely up for change, Lev." Harry tapped the edge of the paper the Dominant was finally reading, "I just thought this is what would appeal the most to both of us, you know, get the full experience so to say." Harry picked again at his roast beef, "I know this is your job so," he shrugged then, seemed to anxiously look around the small shop, before slightly deflating as he turned his attention back to the table. "This has to be fair to you as well."

Lev let out a loud bock, "You're kidding right?" He shook his head and let the contract fall back on the table, he gestured harshly to the offending agreement, "How is that fair at all? The way I read it, you get what you want," he threw his hands in the air, "if it even works, and I get fired if it does or not!" He matched Harry's eyes with knowing ones of his own, before crossing his arms and ignoring the pouting look of his associate across the way.

Harry tightened his jaw and swiftly picked up the abandoned paper from the dirty table, he leveled it to his eyes, pushed up his glasses, and began reading, "Dominant Sir Leverette Montague will ask of requirements and needs of submissive Harry Potter before each scene begins," Harry looked up and quirked one brow in question. Lev didn't speak, but nodded his agreement. That was already discussed when they had initially drew up the business's required contract to be put on file. Harry continued, "Dominant partner is aware of the agreed upon safe word made by submissive's request, thus halting all altercations and actions in playrooms or otherwise conducted in the establishment of the "Dragon's Keep": SNITCH."

Lev sighed out heavily before quickly downing the rest of his drink, "Harry, I've read the damn agreement, hell I remember when we first signed it you dim witted green eye greml,"

"Dominant is underwritten understanding and permission from signed submissive that all playroom activity is such, under legal contract ,to be considered private business accepting all activities are mutually exclusive to said establishment and that broken contract cannot be tied back to the business of,"

"Potter! I know what the damn paper says, get to your fucking point," Lev wasn't yelling, as much as completely impatient to the ridiculous notion. Harry had made changes, stupid, reckless, changes. The boy needed to get to his explaining, "I'm aware of the original agreements Harry, what I don't agree with, however, are you're alterations." Lev pointed to the document still in Harry's hands.

Harry looked up from where he had been reading, his eyes contemplating. Lev matched his stare, his eyes glaring his impatience to the situation. Harry looked back down and began reading once more, lowering his voice as he continued, "Dominant Sir Leverette is under the impression and understanding that no "subspace" affiliation, nor sexual release, will be obtained by Submissive Harry Potter whiles in scene." He didn't look back up.

"See that one doesn't even make sense. What's even the point of us meeting up Harry?" Lev too lowered his voice and leaned in closer to the smaller man still hidden behind the contract. "I mean aren't you at the damn club to get your rocks off and fix of the kink? If you aren't reaching,"

"It's more complicated than that Lev," Harry's face turned an interesting shade of red, "I mean as much as a sodding pussy it makes me out to be," Harry did an awkward movement with his shoulders, most likely masking a shrug, "I kind of want to experience that first hand with my true Dominant, you know?" Harry scratched at something on the back of his head, "Besides, I am still getting my fix so to say, just not entering into that 'alternate dimension' of the subspace…"

Lev bit his lip, trying his hardest not to let out a laugh before adding a taunting coon to his voice, "How sweet, you're saving yourself for Dray Dray."

Harry threw a chip at him, before biting down once more on his sandwich, "Oh har har, poke fun, but fact of the matter, it's too personal of a thing to experience, no offensive, but with a stranger of sorts." Harry took a drink from his own glass, "I want something that intimate, most surely, but with a partner, not a hired employee."

Despite his poking fun, Lev could definitely see that. He smiled kindly over across to the man, "Good for you Harry, that's a hard decision." He rolled his eyes, yet with less velocity as before, "What else ya got on there boy?" He pointed back to the paper.

Harry smiled shyly over at Lev and bit his lip, before continuing once more, "Dominant partner will respect submissive's desire to withhold the use of an agreed upon 'silent safe word' in case of emergency when under oral restraint."

Both were completely silent. Harry not daring to look up from his newly written personal contract, and Lev staring blazing daggers at the hiding boy.

"That's too dangerous Harry, I refuse to sign that, besides the Dragon will never allow such a rule in one of his contracts, its,"

Harry finally looked up, "That's why he will never see this one Lev. We just won't put down a signal for his. I just need your word that you will obey by these rules, I,"

Lev viciously shook his head, "Harry! To not have an agreed upon silent safe word? That's nonnegotiable! What if you were gagged and needed to me to stop, how are you going to let me know, I mean that's why the safe words are put into place, its."

Harry held up a hand, "That's the entire point Lev."

The bald man simply shook his head, before pulling the document out of Harry's hands, he glanced down at it, reading. Finally, after a long while of silence and much contemplating, Lev looked back up. He pushed up his own glasses before awkwardly glancing around the room, "You know Harry, it has finally come to my attention, that this," he vaguely gestured around the eatery, "this sandwich shop, is probably not the most appropriate place to hold such conversation."

Both men then looked up at the completely silent venue, all eyes on them. Harry slowly nodded, "I do believe this is another one for the Prophet my friend."

Lev let out a loud laugh as they both sat up from their table to head for the door, quickly.

"Harry Potter Takes his Order, 'Whole Grain with a Side of Kink.' It will be headline news."

They quickly exited the shocked sandwich shop, laughing in its wake.

Harry finished cooking his stew with a stir of his wand and a heavy sigh. He cooled the temperature down and levitated the pot over to his small table, before sitting down and conjuring a single bowl and spoon. He poured a small serving and took a tentative sip, before allowing his spoon to flop back into the dish as he angrily pushed the bowl away, dejected. He didn't much have an appetite.

He leaned back in the fragile wooden chair and crossed his arms, mulling over his chat earlier with Lev. The older wizard was right, he knew that, he was asking a lot of the man. Yet, after his initial meeting with the Dominant a couple weeks ago, he knew what he had to do. He had told the Dragon himself, he was to win that man over. Yet to do so at such a hazardous cost? Even Harry couldn't be that stupid.

No no, Harry would not allow it to come to that. He would simply have to explain it the owner when the time came. Surely Draco would see reason? Harry scoffed to the empty room before he absent mindedly began playing with his freshly cooked, and sadly abandoned, stew. He slowly drew a few shapes with his wand, enjoying the mindlessness of it all before becoming creative and drawing images in the mixture. First a crudely drawn owl was sketched out, that morphed into a childish drawing of a house elf, a flying snitch, and then a cute fluffy rabbit, before he finally drew a dragon consuming it. He vanished the stew all together. Annoyed with himself and the rutty wasted food.

Frustrated, Harry pushed back roughly from his table, and stormed the few steps to his worn out sofa, before allowing himself to fall onto his back. He closed his eyes before pulling off his glasses, and rubbing roughly at his tired orbs. Behind his closed lids, he though back to his last two food doodles; a cute safe rabbit, and a risky tempered dragon.

On one hand, the more logical one, the rabbit would be the obvious safe choice. He was completely acceptable, as he was a seemingly a 'perfect match' to anyone looking for a new experience, more rough even than the average tamed hare. The rabbit was most definitely a good starter for someone new to the responsibilities of owning such. Rabbits are soft and easily trained, yet could effortlessly defend themselves with razor sharp teeth and a personality to win hearts. Yet, rabbits are easily obtained, found in any run of the mill pet shop. They weren't all that exciting.

On the other hand, nevertheless, a dragon is the prime peak of exotic rarity. It's surely risky, to capture and tame such, yet, completely worth the cuts and bruises, Harry was sure. Unquestionably more accountability, to care for a dragon, but if done properly, most surely worth the extra effort. Right? A dragon was built tough, hard exterior, could breathe fire if provoked, but if appropriately cared for, the most loyal creature ever originate. The problem with the Dragon, however, was capturing it.

Yet, was Harry really all that anxious to dive right back into danger and peril? He had lived nearly his entire life on the edge. Maybe a rabbit was just what he needed right now. Something stable and reassuring, something that Harry could definitely rely on. To own a dragon, well that was anything but dependably safe.

He sat up then, before tiredly getting to his feet, ready to get to bed and forget, admittedly shortly, his recent troubles. Once finally in bed, however, Harry couldn't help but fret; was a dragon worth obtaining if it meant using a rabbit as live bait?

PRESENT:

Draco slowly rubbed at his pounding temples with two pads of his fingers before shuffling the stack of papers at his desk and moving yet another one to the side. He opened the forward facing file and quickly opened it to glance over its contents, checking all the viable information, before closing it, placing it to the right, and reaching for the next in the large pile.

Mindlessly, for two hours, Draco could find nothing better to do than sort and review all his clients and employees on file, from Dominant and submissive profiles to contracts among paired clienteles, it was the best distraction the man could find. Yet, somehow, his mind was still on tousled dark hair and vibrant green eyes. He discarded the next file.

Why couldn't Draco just take Harry's rejection as a good thing? He should take it as an easy out, an opportunity of such, not to take such a perilous hazard. If he had learned anything, anything at all from his mentor, falling was dangerous. Feelings for someone can be extremely risky, as feelings could easily morph into something deeper, something stronger. No, his guide had made it extremely clear whiles training him; love was a trap. Hell, the man had died out of love. Draco be damned if he was to make the same mistake.

The owner laughed bitterly to himself. What would the man think of him now? Becoming so faltered on something as foolish and weak as feelings for a single person. Severus would surely roll in his grave if he knew Draco had developed a weak spot for Harry Potter. He allowed himself to smile before discarding yet another paper to the pile. No, his mentor would have surely locked him up for days if he had lived to know. He glanced down at the worn leather on his wrist, wrapped around several times and tied into a lose bow.

It was times like this, when he was lost and scared and desperate to do the right thing, that Draco truly missed the man that had saved his life, on more than one occasion. How easily it was to recall, that dreadful day during the summer before his sixth year, when the Dark Lord had called upon him for help. Just a boy he was, yet the most feared wizard of all time, had asked a sixteen year old to kill the most powerful wizard of all time. Draco literally shuttered at the memory, of how scared and desperate he was not to fail in worry of his life, his family's life.

He remembered the night the first horrific thoughts crept into his mind. He had been trying to fall asleep, still present in the manor of which the Dark Lord too had claimed as his own, yet couldn't in fear of what laid ahead. He had no doubt, no doubt at all, that he would fail in his assigned task. Draco was never a killer, never had any desire to become one either. Yet at what cost? If he was to fail, he knew what dire consequences laid underneath his weakness. That night the first though of ending things before the Dark Lord had a chance were planted.

He had been such a happy boy, admittedly spoiled to no end, but happy in the only life he had ever known. Yet this man had ruined everything, invading his life, his home, and asking everything in return of ruining his contentment. This man had stolen his innocence, had forced him to grow way beyond his years, and permanently marked him, not only physically, yet mentally as well. The Dark Lord had stolen much from all that had participated in all years and beyond of the war, yet from Draco, he had stolen his desire to continue living.

He shook his head roughly and moved on to the next file in line for inspection. He glanced at it quickly, making sure everything was in order, before placing it in the adjoining stack. He eyed the leather on his wrist once more, before petting it slowly with one finger. Such as simple thing, a single string really, yet a symbol of all that had transpired, not only between his mentor and himself, but Severus and his lost love. One long black leather strand that had been passed down. A symbol of friendship, of patience and trust, of ownership. Snape had given it to him just as his training had begun, asking Draco to trust him to help him. Tentatively, he had accepted.

Severus had come just in time, had obviously seen what was happening beneath the surface of the newly fresh face Death Eater, and had intervened at the most opportune moment. The rest of that summer and the months following into the start of the horrific year, had been spent training. As Snape had once said, 'control of one's own accountabilities and resolutions give once concord and reassurance'. Draco had to learn to grasp control of his own life, yet as he had learned, contentment did not come easy.

At first, Severus had merely explained to the frightened and confused boy of the actions he had undergone to grasp what little bit of control he could of his own imprisoned life as a servant, both to the Dark Lord, a love beaten heart, and, what Draco would later find out, Dumbledore himself. Severus Snape had woven a dangerous game between his own mind and body, had learned the proper balance between releasing his body physically, and chastising his mind mentally. Unlike, however, as Draco was taught, the old potions professor had done all such solely, had yielded both dominance and undergone such submission.

Of course the first question that had popped into the young boys mind was, 'how was that possible', as he was learning, two partners would be mandatory to reach such high level of release in an act so intimate. Severus had simply shook his head sadly and explained the act of completely controlling one's own thoughts, a mental game, between two sides of his own mind. Draco had always known the man was skilled in occlumency, but to completely separate one's mind to achieve such discipline, Draco would never truly understand.

Severus had been admirable, however, in teaching his lost godchild the care and responsibilities that must be given, before one could find release within another soul. Like a proper Dominant must be trained, Draco had undergone and learned the lashes and rules trusted to a man in charge. If Draco now dealt a hard whipping with the harsh lash of stinging leather, he himself had at one point been under the same treatment. From the guidance of his lost friend, a sixteen year old Draco Malfoy had learned what it truly meant to finally gain an ounce of control back into his spiraling life, as well as how addicting such a feeling could become.

Through the entirety of that year, as well as months to follow, up until his mentors death, Draco learned what It meant to be completely out of control, to relinquish control willingly, and then to gain it back. He owned everything to that man. Sure, Draco had lost control many times prior to finally finding that release he needed, the day in the bathroom sixth year was a prime example, but eventually, Severus had healed him. Even after his friends passing, Draco had continued on his training, had found the proper level of control he needed, and had eventually started up his business at the "Dragon's Keep."

Despite where he may be in his life now, no matter how lost he was feeling or how confusing his thoughts may be centered around his new developing feelings, never again would Draco ever be that lost within himself. He must remember where he came from, and what he had to do to find the contentment he had obtained. Draco was strong, he would not allow one man to break him again.

He shuffled, again, at the remaining files in the first stack, before picking up the one on top. Opening it, he quickly checked on the important information; Dominant's name, submissive's, safe words, signatures, than placed it in the finished pile. He reached for the next, then angrily began reading it. He figured it was about time he reached this particular file. He heaved a breath in heavily and scanned the paper as quickly as he could. He mentally checked off the required factors; Sir Leverette Montague, Mr. Harry Potter, snitch, both signatures…He stopped himself quickly, about to close the file and discard it with the others, however, he glanced back down his checklist. Dominant's name, submissive's, safe word, both signatures, Draco leveled his eyes back to the section listing the safe signals. All was there, but no silent safe word.

Draco felt his heart plummet. How had he initially missed something so vitally important in a starting contract? It was required, by all patrons of his establishment, to have both a verbally spoken word to halt all activities, as well as a silent signal incase the sub was under oral restraint or otherwise. How careless, unbelievably careless, for him to have missed something so dangerous. Yet, it was the damn rabbits fault, as well as his own, to make sure his submissive partner knew his signals.

He felt frozen, as he gently placed the file back down onto his desk. Yet, this wasn't a dire emergency, he would simply call in both men after their session today and berate them both on the severity and dangers of their misconduct. Draco nodded to himself. Yes, he would just calmly let the men know,

An alarm rang harshly within his head. He felt his blood run cold. That wasn't the safe word charm, and most definitely not the ringing elected to playroom seven. No it was much worse. The ringing in his ears was the emergency charm, designed only for his employees to use in dire desperation. Draco quickly shot up and sprinted from his office and down the hall as quickly as his legs would allow him, running over anyone who stood in his way.

The ringing in his ears continued to wail, wail the specific tune designated for playroom seven.

Draco's legs couldn't move fast enough.