Bound and Determined
AN: I'm so sick of forced!bonding fanfictions where Harry takes bond abuse lying down and then lets whoever he's bonded to back into his life with no repercussions, so I'm writing a fanfiction where Harry's had enough, and is determined to fight back with every means at his disposal.
Chapter One
Harry Potter was sick and tired of being controlled. When he had been a child, the Dursleys abused, neglected and belittled him. He'd thought he was getting away from that when he went to Hogwarts, but instead he was just being controlled by Dumbledore, instead. And now, after Dumbledore was quite dead and the Dursleys no longer had any control over him, he was once again, through no fault of his own, trapped, controlled and abused in a three-way bond.
The frustrating part of it was, he'd been the one to first suggest said bond. (Well, actually it had been Hermione who'd suggested it to him, but who's counting.) It had been in the weeks just after the war, when Death Eaters were being executed right and left, and Draco Malfoy, despite being acquitted for his own (extraordinarily minor) war crimes, had begged Harry to save his father and godfather by any means at his disposal; the implication had been that Harry would be able to get a pardon for them, being a war hero and the bloody Boy-Who-Lived-to-Have-a Hyphenated-Name. He'd certainly tried that first. He'd even hired several lawyers; as a matter of fact, the only thing he did not stoop to was bribery. But he hadn't made any headway at all. Lucius Malfoy was legitimately a war criminal, and though Snape should have actually gotten an Order of Merlin for his efforts in the war, no one seemed to be able to forget that he had been the one to kill Albus Dumbledore, even if it had been under orders and compelled by magic.
It had been Hermione, in the end, who had found it: an old, obscure clause in an old, obscure law book that states that a life-bonded wizard could not be punished by death or the Kiss, or even extended imprisonment, of he had an innocent life-bonded partner. Harry had wanted to save that idea for a last resort, and Hermione hadn't wanted him to do it at all, but at last, with the Kiss looming on the horizon for both of the other wizards, his saving-people thing had kicked in, and he'd proposed the bond.
The other two, considering that their backs were against the wall, accepted. Harry should have seen it coming.
The same law book which had provided the loopholes necessary to save the Slytherins had also provided the loopholes necessary to condemn Harry, because, although the magical life-bond they were going to use was a bonding of equals (master/concubine bonds were no longer legal in Magical Britain, for the excellent reason that the bond was permanent, allowed total control over the 'lesser' bondmate, and did not have to be consensual) the legal system had some rather primitive regulations in place, such as the fact that if one of the wizards was over magical majority (seventeen) but under political majority (twenty-four) he or she would be in complete legal submission to his or her partner, until either full majority or full consumption of the bond (this was traditionally to 'protect' child brides or arranged bondmates). For a heterosexual bond, it was quite simple enough...but it was more complicated for a wizards' bonding. Especially if there were three, emphatically male wizards involved.
And thus Harry Potter found himself, at age seventeen, life-bonded to two wizards who had never really liked him and now we're in total control of him. And he couldn't get away, or even take a lover, until he was twenty-four and they could reevaluate. In hindsight, it was a really bad idea.
To be fair, Snape was at least trying. He at least made an effort not to be as unpleasant as he had been in Harry's Potions lessons in years past, and he was as gentle as possible in consumating the bond, which Harry had really not expected (but was certainly grateful for). And he hadn't touched him again, which Harry was also grateful for. That didn't mean that he was going to allow Harry to top to complete their part of the bond, though, and that still rankled, but at least he wasn't outright abusive.
Harry could not, however, say the same about Lucius. The man was certainly fine with defiling "the Chosen One", but as long as only one of them topped, the bond was only half consummated, and to make it worse, the vows that Harry had taken when they bonded stated that until the bond was full, or Harry was legally allowed to walk away, Harry had to obey the man's every command or have his magic blocked until his full majority. Despite the fact that Harry was both of higher rank politically and more magically powerful, as a matter of fact, nearly as powerful as Merlin.
Thus, it was only the threat of his magic being inaccessible for years that kept Harry from going against the laundry list of commands Lucius wanted him to follow. He had to give his wand and Gringotts key to Lucius. He could not ask questions. He could not speak unless first allowed to or asked a direct question. He was not allowed to play Quiddich. He was not allowed to leave the grounds. He was not allowed to take a job. He was not allowed to write anything, even a journal or a diary entry, without showing it to Lucius. He was not allowed to talk to his friends, much less invite them over or go to their place. He was not allowed to read anything not pre-approved...
Even Snape objected to some of the most stringent of these commands, but Lucius did what he wanted, whenever he wanted. Including in the bedroom.
And Harry could do nothing about it, except fume in silence, and practice his wandless magic in secret in the bed at night; as Slytherin as Lucius was, he'd forgotten to add: "don't practice magic at all" in the command list; he'd only prevented Harry from using his wand or brewing potions without his or Snape's direct permission. And so Harry practiced, hoping to be proficent enough to defend himself when Lucius went too far, and the rest of the time he cooked and cleaned, because why would you employ a house elf if you could have a savior?
"POTTER!" Lucius shouted.
Case in point. Harry sighed, but swallowed his complaint; he was not allowed to complain. "Yes sir?" you would think that, being bonded, he'd be allowed to use his bondmates' first names, but no!
"Have you forgotten what day it is?"
Harry got a sudden, sickening flashback to his twelfth summer at the Dursleys; it was his birthday, but it was doubtless Lucius actually wanted to wish him "Happy birthday". Hell, he probably hadn't genuinely wished anyone happy birthday since Draco's sixth birthday. "Apparently."
"You idiot!" Lucius never tired of belittling him, despite the fact that it had gotten old in the first few days. "It's your birthday, Potter, and there's a ministry party in half an hour. If you don't make an appearance, there will be public blowback."
"Not to mention that your adoring public will expect you to be out spending ridiculous amounts of galleons," Snape, who had come up behind the blond aristocrat, added. "Get your robes on. Your dress robes on."
Just once Harry wished he could do what he actually wanted for his birthday; stay home, have a nap, maybe a bath, and have all his wishes catered to by the bastards that were his bondmates. Or possibly even just talk to his friends, even for just a few hours. But no. He would have to go to some totally inane ministry function in stiff, itchy dress robes, get home far too late and, if he were especially unfortunate, be treated to Lucius's special brand of attentions, as a treat.
"Yes sir," he responded dully, walking up to his room. Lucius followed him, closing the bedroom door behind them, and went straight to Harry's wardrobe as if he could not be trusted even to pick out his own. And then he stripped him to arrange the robes on him, and Harry closed his eyes and tried not to move. He had not been expressly ordered not to bite his elder bondmate, but one had to keep something up one's sleeve, right? Even if he was just about to scream at the way Lucius was touching him.
In the end, he had to admit that he didn't look bad. He was at least dressed in Gryffindor colors- formal red, edged with gold and with the Potter and Black crests on his chest- but he really resented the expensive, ruby-encrusted choker that made him feel like he was wearing a dog collar. And he also quite disliked the way Lucius was looking at him, as if he wanted to jump him right then and there.
And then a plan, which Harry had long since relegated to the territory of daydream, drifted across Harry's mind once again, and a faint, wistful seed of hope began to form deep within him, so deep that it could never be found, could never be weeded out. Maybe, just maybe, there could be a way out of it.
"S-sir?"
"Yes, Potter?" Lucius sounded bored, and perhaps a little annoyed.
"May I please use my wand, just for this evening? It is my birthday." Not that they'd done anything for his birthday before. Merlin, it hurt having to beg for something that had been rightfully his from the time he was eleven.
"Perhaps..." Lucius condescended. "Severus, what do you think?"
As if he were a child! Harry fumed inside. "If I don't have my wand and don't talk to my friends, people are going to start to wonder," he said at last, knowing full well how heavy handed it sounded. But he was desperate, and besides, he didn't want to tip his hand all the way.
Lucius smirked at his words. "We've got ourselves a Slytherin," he said indulgently, ruffling Harry's hair roughly in a way that made Harry feel distinctly uncomfortable. He knew that he would pay tonight, but it seemed that the man was going to concede the point. "Very well," Lucius said after an agonizingly slow moment. "You may have your wand and cast magic, as long as you don't hurt either of us or attempt to escape. The privilege ends at midnight. As for your friends, if they are there you may speak with them, although you are expected to stick closer to the pure circles of society. You may not go off And snog any fangirls or practice adultery, and say nothing uncomplementary about either of us; no spilling to the press."
Harry bit his lip to prevent himself from voicing what he thought about that, and said only. "Yes. Thank you."
"Yes, what?" Lucius hissed, a slight hint of danger slipping into his tone.
Snape's already pale skin went paler still. "Lucius, I don't think-"
"Shut up, Severus, you were the one who said we should keep the whelp in his place. Potter?"
"Yes sir," Harry replied dully, and submitted to the pet he was awarded. "Just a moment, I've got to go to the loo."
"Hurry it up then, we can't be seen to be late at your party, you ungrateful-"
"Lucius!"
"Severus," the aristocrat returned warningly, eyes narrowed. The Potions Master subsided at once; what was that about?
Harry took a moment to ponder that as he retreated into the bathroom, locking the door behind him for the first measure of privacy he'd had all day. He was under no illusions that said door would actually protect him if his bondmates wanted in, but there was nothing he could do on that front. He sucked in a few slow, deep breaths, and then straightened. Right. The plan. Here would be the hard part.
While Harry had not been allowed to make or buy ready made potions, his bondmates, having never allowed him in the potions lab, (or even keying him into the wards, in the case of Snape's private lab) had not bothered to tell him that he was not allowed to take any of their potions, as the only potions that were not kept either in Snape's private lab or in the lab at Malfoy Manor were medicinal potions, and his bondmates, for all their faults, had never refused him medicine when he needed it. And so, kept under the sink in a jar labeled "mothballs" (his bondmates never bothered to clean the muggle way, after all) he had several very useful potions, including polyjuice and veritaserum, which he'd had before the bonding, and several healing and lust-inducing potions, which he had swiped from the medicine cabinet. There would probably never be a time more apt, he thought grimly, wandlessly charming the bottles he had chosen not to break or be tainted by foreign magics before shrinking them and hiding them in his robes. It was time.
Lucius was calling through the door. "Hurry up, Potter, you're going to make us late!"
As if I care, Harry thought angrily, but immediately "finished up" and hurried out, and in a few minutes, they were flooing into the Ministry, having their wand's scanned, and entering the red and gold draped Official Ballroom, where Snape drifted off to talk to some of his former students and Lucius pretended, for a while, to be the deferential and gentlemanly pureblood husband he liked to portray to the world, although the glint of the choker at Harry's throat made the truth blatantly clear to those in the know. At last, however, Harry made his way over to talk to a slightly worried-looking Ron and Hermione, and Lucius went to talk to some of the other purebloods, probably more to get away from the mudblood and blood-traitor then out of any urge to let Harry have some social time. As soon as he was out of sight, Harry wandlessly redirected the eavesdropping spell and cast a few privacy spells, also wandless.
"Hey mate, are you ok?" Ron asked as soon as the tingle of the privacy charms touched his skin.
Harry winced, but said brightly, "absolutely!" knowing they would get the message.
Sure enough, Hermione's lip began to tremble. "Harry, I'm so, so sorry. I should have tried harder to find a way-"
"Hermione, it's fine," Harry responded, smiling at her. "Snape's been great, especially after how he used to treat me" yes, ignoring someone is better than spilling all the vitriol possible at every opportunity "and Malfoy's much better than I'd expected" well, Harry supposed that was true, too, since he'd expected to be crucioed within an inch of his life if he "misbehaved".
His friends, however, had known him long enough to be able to pick up on the subtext. "It's only a few more years," Ron said flatly, as if trying to cheer him up. It didn't work much, but it did remind him of his plan.
"Guys," Harry began, "um, I have this great idea, but I need some help."
"What is it? Are you going to get those bastards back?"
Harry said nothing, so as not to go against his orders, but the grimly pleased look on his face said everything they needed to know. "I need one of you to pretend to leave early and then sneak back and polyjuice into me," he said at last.
The two of them stared at him.
"For this to work," he went on, "one of you will have to play me. I will 'crash' the Ministry ball as an unknown pureblood, and I will try to get close to them. I don't want Snape to be hurt," he added, "and Lucius isn't to be killed." The implications were clear enough. "Mostly I just want to have an unbiased conversation with them; although I will need your help" a pause as Harry struggled with the phrasing and the magic closing up his throat. "but I do plan to seduce Lucius, the way he did me." Harry put strong emphasis on 'seduce', and 'the way he did me' and watched their faces darken.
"I'll do it." Hermione said at once.
"Do what?"
"I'll play you; Ron can be your magical backup."
"Thank you," Harry breathed, for the first time seeing the end of the tunnel approaching.
"That's what friends are for, mate," Ron told him.
Harry hugged both of them. Then he slipped Hermione the polyjuice, and disappeared into the boys' bathroom, trusting her to find a way to fake illness and sneak out.
Mere minutes later, a disillusioned figure tapped him on the shoulder and hissed "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."
Harry grinned, then watched as a polyjuiced Hermione appeared, still in the slinky, tassely golden dress that she had worn to the function first. Harry stripped under a notice-me-not, and then turned his back while she dressed in his robes, waiting until she told him that he could turn around.
He had to admit that if that was what he had looked like, it wasn't bad, although it did hurt to see that horrible choker around his best friend's neck.
"You look. Good." he blinked. "I'm not sure what else I can say since you're technically borrowing my body, but yeah."
Even with the seriousness of the occasion, Hermione gave a little rasping giggle. "Hitting on yourself, Harry?"
"Hush, 'Mione, I have until midnight to seduce my Prince." A pause. "And then I have to defeat a wicked wizard." The command he had been given earlier that afternoon gave him a warning twinge, but apparently decided that the words were to vague to have defied the command, because Harry could still feel his magic. The young man shuddered at the close call, but at last calmed down enough to begin wandlessly glamoring every inch of his body and then transfiguring Hermione's dress into robes, while said polyjuiced girl watched him in awe. And at last he stood in front of the mirror.
He would not, of course, be any taller, but he wasn't the shortest wizard now anyway, since Snape had brewed him a few special potions for his bonding present, and his ordinarily messy black hair had been transformed into a chocolate brown mane of curls, while his distinctive green eyes were an equally distinctive amber-gold now. The woman's dress which had hung so awkwardly on his definitely masculine body had been transmogrified into open green dress robes, lined with black velvet and edged with green, while Hermione's bra was now a sleek, clinging black vest. Harry gave a faint, serpentine smile.
"How do I look, 'Mione?"
The girl gulped. "Um. If you're trying to seduce your bondmates...it's definitely going to work. You might need some jewelry though." She frowned a little, seeming to be partially recovering from her trance, then picked a bobby pin off of the floor and transfigured it into an armband shaped like a snake. "How's this?"
"Oh, excellent, and not too feminine," Harry told her, sliding it onto his arm. It glinted brassily at him, and he abruptly took it off and transfigured it into a cool silver, then slipped it back on."You think I need anything else?"
"All you need is a little luck, and a little time," Hermione returned, then gasped. "Wait, a little luck!" And at that moment, she unclasped the beautiful friendship bracelet around her neck and handed him the tiny vial that hung from the chain.
"Mione, I can't!" he protested. "Save it for something important; I think I've got this from here."
"Nonsense. You're important. Here, drink!"
It was at that moment that the door swung open...and Harry was left clinging with shock-frozen fingers to the chain of the necklace as Lucius Malfoy came in to berate "Harry" for hiding out in the lavatory on his birthday.