A/N: My entry in the Dictionary Drabbles challenge on the Beloved Enemies mailing list. The theme word is "exempt."

Warnings: Torture, BDSM

Word count: 500

EXCEPTION TO THE RULE

"No, my Lord," Lucius said, and Harry felt the first stirrings of hope he'd had in a very long time.

The stone floor was hard beneath his bare knees and he shifted uncomfortably, hardly enough to be noticed, though of course Lucius noticed it. The hand holding the end of his leash twitched just enough to provide a subtle warning, and the other hand dropped onto his head to stroke his hair absentmindedly.

"No?" Voldemort's voice was a dangerous whisper. Harry dared not look up, but from the corner of his eye he could see the Dark Lord had ceased pacing and was now facing Lucius straight on. "Do you mean no as in you disagree?" Voldemort hissed. The black boots drifted closer.

The hand in his hair continued its gentle caresses, an obscene parody of the manner in which Lucius usually touched him, and Harry closed his eyes. "I mean no as in I refuse, my Lord," Lucius said smoothly. "I consider it an unnecessarily foolish risk, now that we have finally captured Hogwarts."

This was it, then. The world would end soon in a flash of green light. Just the week before, Harry had been kneeling in this very spot when Voldemort had killed both Macnair and his slave for a far less major transgression. What remained of their bodies still hung on spikes just outside the Forbidden Forest, a constant reminder to the castle's inhabitants that Voldemort's word was law.

Harry's heart leapt. He would finally be free. He slitted his eyes open to look at the angry, red manacle burns encircling his wrists. No more. No more cringing at the sound of the lash whistling above his head. No more frantic gasping for breath as Lucius wrenched his head out of the tub of water, then plunged it back in again as his cock tore Harry open. No more hot pokers or painfully large gags that stretched his jaws until they felt they would break. He would see his parents again, perhaps walk with Dumbledore and kiss his beloved Severus. How long he had prayed for death, and now Lucius, who had never willingly done anything to make his life easier, had provided the means for his escape from hell.

Without raising his head, he lifted the hem of Lucius's robe to his lips and kissed it reverently, praying that Voldemort would act quickly.

But the silence only stretched on as the Dark Lord drew nearer. Harry risked a look upwards, and the spark of joy that had sustained him sputtered and died when he saw the grim, twisted smile on Voldemort's face.

"Only you, Lucius," Voldemort said, raising one scaly finger to stroke the pale cheek. "Only you could disobey me thus and live to tell the tale."

"My Lord," Lucius acknowledged humbly.

"Go."

A sharp tug on his leash, and Harry rose sullenly. The stones were cold beneath his feet, but he barely felt them for the stunning ache of being condemned to life.