Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy lay on his side pressing his face against the cool stone of the cell. His eyes closed he inhaled slowly trying to ease the pain of in his ribs. He had tried to move around, get up and stretch but he couldn't. He hadn't realized he was in such a weak condition but even sitting up was difficult and he found he'd simply slide back to the ground after a couple minutes.

When the guards had told him he was being transferred into slavery he'd thought it was a bad joke. Slavery didn't exist any more and even if it did he only had five more months before his sentence was up. Slavery was for life they couldn't just change his sentence. So he'd forgotten it. Pushed it aside as a dumb joke from an even dumber guard. He'd been wrong. They'd pulled him from Azkaban without so much as a warning. When he tried to gather his sparse belongings the guards had knocked them form his hands. He wouldn't need them where he was going. Where he was going?

The guards took him to the port key that connected Azkaban to the Ministry for the transportation of criminals. No one told Draco why he was being moved. He was placed in a holding cell off the side of the Ministry courtrooms. The cell was dark and damp, kept this way to frighten offenders. There was nowhere to sit, only the cold stone of the four walls. That was where he was now. Lying on the floor. Draco couldn't say how long he'd been in there but six different servings of gruel made him think it had been either two or three days.

Facing away from the door he traced his fingers along the curved edges of the stone. They weren't joking. That has to be why I'm here. Draco thought. He needed to come up with a plan. Slaves lived hard, horrible lives. Or they used to. He would need to get and stay on his Master's good side. Draco recoiled at the thought. He no longer thought of himself as the high a mighty Malfoy heir he once now his only interest was survival. He would live and stay alive the best he could. If that meant degrading or lowering himself, well he figured he couldn't fall much farther then he already had. If Draco was honest with himself, though he rarely ever was, he was terrified. His body quacked but he told himself it was just the cold.

Closing his eyes he let his thoughts wander. Whenever things were hard or he was sad he'd go back to one particular memory, flashes of green eyes and messy black hair. Bodies pressed together in a small nook behind a tapestry. Draco was pulled from his daydream by the cell door opening and light filling the room. Carefully and with great difficulty he pulled himself into a seated position. Leaning against the wall he pulled one leg into him, his arm wrapped around his ribcage the other came up to shade his eyes from the bright light. An elderly man, with wrinkled hands, a charming face and suspicious eyes entered the room. He lifted the hem of his robes as he did so to keep them from touching the dirty floor and crinkled his nose, as he smelled the air. If must have smelled foul. Draco was sure he did at least. It had been weeks since he'd been allowed to bathe.

"Mister Malfoy," The ministry official said a gracious smile spreading across his face but not reaching his eyes, "I am Mr. Cornwall the overseer of your case and the official in charge of your safe and speedy transfer into servitude." Draco kept his face blank. Servitude? Is that what they're calling it? He watched as Mr. Cornwall pulled out his wand and transfigured a large wooden chair out of Draco's dinner bowl. Taking a seat he pulled a small square from his pocket, which he enlarged. It was a large file that he opened across his lap.

Looking back at Draco he said mockingly, "ah-ah-ah" He waved his wand the way a parent would wave a finger at a child. "Now don't get any ideas. This room is charmed to keep you from moving. You may not have noticed given your condition but you cannot walk in here. Or perhaps you did notice that feeling of extreme pressure. Either way you will not get this wand from me. So don't get any ideas." He leered at Draco clearly enjoying this, "Now to business. You were tried and convicted of war crimes, the crime of being a Death Eater, of carrying the Dark Mark, of associating with convicted criminals, aiding and abetting, being an accomplice to murder and being a sympathizer of He-who-shall-not-be-named's cause. However, due to your age at the time, you were only…..ah yes 17, resulted in the dismissal of most of your charges. So how is it you've been with us for the past four and a half years?"

Draco clenched his jaw. He would not give this man the satisfaction of seeing him react the official smiled at him, "Oh yes your mother. You made a deal did you not? To serve an extra three years in her stead? She wasn't exactly on our top priorities list I will tell you. Poor thing was practically bullied into serving the dark lord by your father. In my own opinion that is practically abuse. Poor mummy." He simpered no sign of real sympathy anywhere in his voice or manners. He was trying to get a rise out of Draco but if he thought this was the first time someone had tried to use his mother against him he was wrong. Draco was used to having to defend her and even more accustomed to being unable to do so. Draco met the official's gaze with a defiant look. Cornwall's face twitched.

Sitting up straighter in his chair he continued, "Being the son of a pureblood family I am sure you are aware of the ancient custom of wizard slavery, yes?" Draco tensed. Of course I know it, every pureblood family knows of it. Draco knew more than he wished to know about wizard slavery. In fact it had been one of his father's favorite things. He had often pulled ancient texts from their library, full of horrifying images and spread them out for Draco to see, "Look Draco," He had said pleasure filling his voice, "this is what we shall do to the muggle, mudbloods, squibs and muggle lovers. They'll be slaves just like this. We'll put them back in their place, back where they belong. This my son is what complete control looks like."

The pictures had given Draco nightmares. People with their necks slit by an invisible force, women and men tortured by their masters thoughts, humans being used as furniture. Rape. He knew that long ago the Ministry had been in charge of the slave trade. They had taken it over, constructed a contract process, and filtered the business so that it ran through the Ministry and ultimately made the Ministry and the right people filthy rich.

Cornwall watched him an evil smile spreading across his face. "Of course you do. The Malfoy family had one of the largest slave estates in all of Britain. Your ancestors were known for being particularly cruel to their slaves. Did you know? Well perhaps you wouldn't. It's not exactly something someone would boast about. Personally I think this is a bit of poetic justice, maybe you'll agree. You see I bring this up because the Ministry has decided that the only real way for people like you to pay back the debt they owe to the families they injured is for you to become slaves yourselves." Draco's reserve faltered, he flinched so violently that there was no way Cornwall didn't notice,

"Ah, yeeees" he said amusement growing in his voice, "Yes that's right my boy you're here to be given to a deserving family. You will be made a slave and you will serve them for the rest of your life." Cornwall held up a hand, "Before you speak you should know that there is no way to appeal this, there's no way for you to negotiate your way out, and no one will help you. You will be given as a slave tomorrow as a gift from the Ministry. You're new master will take you home and, "Cornwall stood and walked across the cell. Bending down he placed a hand on top of Draco's head. He leaned into his ear and whispered, "then your master will do whatever he wants with you. Do you understand? Anything at all and do you know what you will do my boy?" His gaze met Draco's a mocking pout shaping his lips, shaking his head he said, "Nothing because there's nothing you can do!" Cornwall's evil grin appeared again. He ruffled Draco's hair then ran his fingers down his cheek, "Oh if you were coming home with me my boy, I know what I'd do to you." He said his voice low and full of lust. Draco pressed himself further into the wall. Cornwall's breath was foul and close up Draco could see his pearly white teeth jutted from sickly black and green gums.

Cornwall stood smoothing out his robes, "You may speak now. Do you have any questions?" Draco cleared his throat getting control of his voice, "I only have five months left and…"

"That is of little consequence. During an incarceration the Ministry is able and allowed to sign a prisoner into slavery at any point of their sentence. A day before your release or the day you are imprisoned makes no difference to us." He chuckled. Draco glared at him, "then perhaps you could be so kind as to tell me who it is I'm being so graciously given too?" He said with pique. Cornwall was gathering his things, shrinking the file and transfiguring the chair back into a bowl.

"Oh you're going to a very deserving family. You Mr. Malfoy are being offered to the Weasleys. Our original intended recipient did not respond to our letters. We moved on to the second choice. Their youngest son Ronald will be picking you up tomorrow. Enjoy your final night of freedom." Cornwall laughed slamming the cell door behind him.

When Cornwall was gone Draco slid back down to the floor. It had taken all his strength to remain upright. Ron Weasley, Ron fucking Weasley. The bloody Weasel. Of course it would be him. Draco didn't know if he should be happy or devastated. He had wondered how this situation could be anymore embarrassing and this was it. He could think of nothing more humiliating than having to be the slave of the Weasley family. He would have to bow and bend to Ron. RON! Then there was the fact that of the Golden Trio Ron hated him the most. How was he supposed to get on Ron's good side?

He sighed tracing the stones again. At least the Weasley's were not the type to torture. He knew Ron was straight, he'd been with that Brown girl and Granger hadn't he? So maybe he wouldn't use Draco in the way he was sure Cornwall would. If the worst Ron would do was rough him up and humiliate him then Draco felt his situation wasn't so bad. That made him laugh; you know you live a great life when being beaten isn't so bad, he thought. His laughter caught in his throat as tears he wouldn't acknowledge filling his eyes. Coughing he rolled over to sleep.

Draco awoke to two large guards locking chains around his wrists and ankles. Half carrying him half dragging him from the cell the larger one said, "Come on you. 'E's 'ere and 'e's signed. Once we put the collar on yah, you're out of our 'ands." Draco fought to gain his footing so he could walk. He would not let Ron see how weak he was; he would not let him pity him. Fixing his signature sneer in place he followed the guards through the halls. The guards led him to a large ornate room of the side of the main hall. Entering the room Draco stumbled slightly when he saw him. That was Weasley?

Sitting at a large table in the middle of the room was no doubt Ron Weasley but a much larger version. Seeing them enter Ron stood. Malfoy stared at him. He was at least 195 cm and he looked strong. His arms were long and lean; his chest was strong and built. His red hair was the same shaggy style it had been in school but his face was less round and his jaw more defined. How had this happened? He'd been so stocky in school. Draco cringed inside. Did Ron have to look so good when he looked so terrible? Draco knew he was tiny. He'd been starved for years now. Any muscle he's had was gone, his bones jutted from his body which was covered in bruises. As if this wasn't bad enough. Draco had taken a great deal of pride in being more attractive then the redhead. Now it seemed the shoe was on the other foot.

He looked away as the guards led him over to Weasley. With more force than necessary they shoved him to his knees. One of the guards grabbed his chin and forced him to look up at Ron. The other handed Ron a black metal band. The collar. He saw Ron's jaw clench. He looked ill. "Be sure to say your full name. Just repeat after me eh?" Ron nodded. Staring up into Ron's eyes he watched his face blank as he said, "I, Ronald Billius Weasley, " This is it. "Take you as my slave," Bloody hell this is happening. Fuck this is happening, "signified by this collar" No! Stop! "I name you Dray," Ron faltered and coughed. What was that? "Draco Lucius Malfoy." He's letting me keep my name? Like he's the good guy here. Fuck this and fuck him. That's when the collar snapped shut around his neck. Suddenly an invisible force hit Draco, his whole body felt like it was engulfed in flames and his mouth went dry. Sharp pinpricks poked every inch of him. His head swam, his eyes blurred. His skull erupted in pain. As quickly as it started it stopped and all Draco was left with was an immense sense of loss. It was as if something very important was missing. If felt like a giant hole had formed in his chest where his magic used to sit. That's right. The connection. He has my magic now.He felt his heart clench and his throat tighten. It was done. He was a slave. He had been so close to freedom and now it would never be his.

Silently commending himself for not letting the pain of what just happened show on his face Malfoy steeled his nerves. Ron looked disgusted with the situation. That pleased Draco. I will not make this easy for you, he thought. Meeting Ron's gaze he sneered, "Well? What now, Master?"

*(RPOV)*

Before the pair left Draco was seen by a ministry medi-wizard who healed his more serious injuries and his clothing from his trial was returned to him. Despite how thin he had been when he was sentenced his suit hung from his body a good two sizes too large. Ron had a tendency to cringe whenever he looked at him. Despite their poverty Molly Weasley had never allowed her children to starve. Malfoy looked so frail Ron was sure he'd break at the softest of touches.

They flooed back to Ron's flat in muggle London, it was small, cheap and close to Diagon Alley. There the awkwardness of their situation was so strong, that you could cut it with a knife. Standing in front of the small fireplace, Ron once again, found him self at a loss of what to do. I really didn't think this through, Ron thought. He shifted uncomfortably, running his fingers through his hair, "Well then Malfoy this is home sweet home." He said.

Malfoy looked around his lip curling up in distaste, "My my, you have made your way up in the world. What an improvement to your previous situation," he drawled condescendingly. Ron felt that familiar fire build in his stomach. He struggled to quell it. "Yeah right. Look through there's the kitchen, down that hall's the bedrooms, you can have the one on the left, and then the toilet's that way as well." He finished his mini-tour with an unenthusiastic flourish of his hand. Dropping it to his side as he realized just how small his home was.

There was a small sitting room and a small but spacious kitchen. It had everything he needed but being able to give Malfoy a tour without leaving the sitting room made having a slave seem all the more ridiculous. What do I need a slave for? There was hardly any cleaning and that was done by magic. Being waited on and served had always left him feeling on edge. Slaves were meant for large families with grand estates and Malfoy knew it.

"It's not much but I like….. What?" he asked, startled by Malfoy's confused expression. "My room?" Malfoy asked his brow furrowed as if he was expecting it to be a joke. "Well yeah, I mean where else would you sleep?" Ron asked as if he thought the answer was obvious. Malfoy frowned at him. He opened his mouth to say something then halted. Shaking his head he looked back down the hallway. Ron shrugged making his way into the kitchen. Fetching the kettle and filling it with water he called, "Right well, look I don't know how else to say this but you look and smell like shite. If you want to take a shower I'll find you something else you can put on." Ron waited for a typical nasty response but to his surprise no response came, when he looked down the hall he saw Malfoy disappear into the bathroom.

Ron was just settling down to a cup of tea when Malfoy reappeared. He was not clean, in fact he was still in his old clothing and very much unwashed. He stood in front of Ron expectantly, "Er, is there a problem?" Ron asked. Maybe the idiot couldn't get the water to work. Does he even know how to use a muggle shower? It's not like it's much different from Hogwarts but you never know. Malfoy shifted and huffed, "Are you really that thick?" Ron's eyebrows shot up, "What?" he asked incredulously. Malfoy crossed his arms, "You need to give me permission to use your things. Until you do I am unable to use them." He said with a sneer. Ron's mouth fell open, "Seriously?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Yes seriously. Do you not even know what it means to be a," He cleared his throat, "slave," the word dripped with disgust, "owner?" Ron ignored the insult and took this new information in. Leaning back in his chair he asked, "What do you mean you're not able?" Malfoy's mouth twitched his eyes blazed. Ron could always tell when Draco was on the verge of snapping. In school he had loved to make Malfoy flip. Even now he still found Malfoy's need to remain in control at all times amusing. "I mean I am not able to use them." Ron raised an eyebrow, "You mean physically you can't even pick them up?" "Not with the intention of using them for myself." The blond said through gritted teeth.

"Huh" Ron crossed his arms thinking. He was sort of enjoying pissing Malfoy off like this. He pictured Malfoy in the bathroom leaning into an invisible force and flailing about while he tried to pick up the shampoo. It made his snort in amusement. However that feeling quickly left him as he noticed the slight quake to Malfoy's body, his clenched fist, and tight jaw. He was desperately trying to appear passive but it wasn't working. Then Ron understood. Malfoy needed Ron to allow him to use even the most basic of things. If Ron were right Malfoy would even have to ask permission to go to the bathroom. This was a way that Ron could humiliate him. He wasn't angry he was afraid. Afraid that Ron would abuse this power over him. He was afraid of Ron.

Ron shot up in his seat; sure he'd wanted to scare Malfoy before. Back in school he would have done anything to frighten the pompous git but now in their situation the fact that Malfoy was afraid of him made him feel dirty. This was too real for him, too much responsibility. "Malfoy I give you permission to use anything in this flat for your own purposes…. er indefinitely, or I mean, until I say otherwise. That is you can use my things. My things are your things, yes right. So yeah go ahead and you know just go bathe." He finished lamely. Once again Ron Malfoy frowned at him suspiciously then he left. Bloody hell he needs my permission for everything. The more Ron thought about their situation the more he realized he couldn't put it off. He needed to talk to Malfoy. Draco clearly thought that Ron was going to take advantage of his position. He didn't know how but he needed to convince him that his intentions were, if not totally pure, at least honorable.

An hour later a man emerged from the bathroom looking much more like the Malfoy from Hogwarts than the Malfoy from Azkaban. He had shaved, washed away the grime, cleaned his hair and even clipped his fingernails. He wore the clothing Ron had provided. He practically swam in a pair of Ron's sweats and a large white t-shirt. Ron was sitting on his couch watching his television, his favorite muggle toy, glancing at Malfoy he said, "Isn't that better?" Malfoy said nothing, he simply stood by the couch staring in aw at the T.V. Ron looked at him, "haven't ever seen one of these before eh?" Malfoy said nothing. He sure isn't going to make this easy. A large rumble from Malfoy's stomach broke the silence. He looked startled by it."Er, are you hungry? I've made some pasta. Do you want some?" Looking at him Malfoy nodded slowly, remaining silent. He made to head into the kitchen but Ron passed by him and began making him a plate. "Here" he said setting it down at the kitchen table.

Draco hesitated then sat. Arching an elegant eyebrow he examined his plate, "You call this food?" he asked lifting a fork full and letting it plop back to the plate. Ron made his way from the stove with his own plate, "Just eat it." He sighed as he sat across from the blonde. He wanted to get through this civilly. This was the longest Malfoy and him had gone without trying to kill each other. If they were going to live together they needed to keep it up. Poking at his food he figured, no time like the present. "Look Malfoy, I think we need to talk. If that's alright with you." Malfoy looked at him. He sneered, "It doesn't matter if it's alright with me anymore. Or have you forgotten, Master Weasel." He said with spite.

Ron wasn't a red head or a Weasley for nothing, he had a temper and it was short. He felt the flames of an all too familiar fire begin to creep up his back. He was starting to remember why he had hated Malfoy so much. The man was insufferable. "Don't call me that." He said clenching his fork. He had decided he absolutely hated that word. No one should be the master of someone else. It was wrong. "What Weasel?" Malfoy asked innocently taking a bite of his food. He chewed slowly and steadily met Ron's gaze. "No, Master, don't call me that. If you want to call me something call me Weasley or Ron but don't call me Master, unless you want to." Ron added that on at the end, half as a jab at Malfoy, as if he'd ever actually want to call Ron that, but half to keep it from sounding like an order. He found himself very aware how everything he was saying would end up dictating how Malfoy was able to act if he didn't alter his language.

The suspicious expression was back, "Alright." Malfoy said slowly setting his fork down again. Quelling his anger Ron continued, "It's important that you understand that I didn't sign that contract with the intention of treating you like a slave. I think slavery is wrong and no matter how much might…dislike you. I don't think you deserve this." He watched as something flittered across Malfoy's face. What was that? It looked a little like hope. Ron faltered a little but kept going.

"What's done is done. For now we're stuck together so the best we can do is try to get along." Malfoy cocked his head, "For now?" he asked frowning. "Well yeah, I mean until we can find a way out of this. I mean a way to get you out of slavery that is. Until we can do that I think the best thing we can do is try to put Hogwarts behind us. I want to help you have a sort of normal life. I'm not saying we have to be best mates or anything but being mates would be better than this." He said motioning between the two of them. Malfoy was staring at him as if he'd grown another head.

"You want to help me get my freedom?" Ron nodded, "that's why I signed the contract. I figured you were better off with me than anyone else." He looked back up at Malfoy. "Why?" Ron made an exasperated noise. "Does it matter? I just want to help. You're not really in a position to refuse are you? Or do you want to stay a slave to my family till you die?" Ron hadn't meant to shout. Malfoy's face was contorted in a strange array of expression. It was a mix of distrust, hope, anxiety, and desperation. Malfoy leaned forward, "You swear?" He said his face serious, "You swear you'll help me?" Ron nodded slowly. "I swear I'll do what ever I can." He said making sure he conveyed just how serious he was about this. Malfoy leaned back and for the first time in his life Ron saw him smile, a real genuine smile. "Okay" he said extending a hand over the table. Ron shook it. "Friends."

(AN) Hey guys! So there it is. Chapter 2! I know my pace may be a bit slow for you guys I'm sorry about that. Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed, followed and favorited! You guys are awesome! Be sure to keep letting me know what you think or even just to point out a type-o. I'm currently writing Chapter 3 so hopefully it won't take me as long as this one.

zyujin: I have no intention of abandoning this story! Don't worry :)

darkmoonlady: Thank you!

Lovergirl101: haha you'll have to wait and see. They may have reached a truce but Draco is still Draco and Ron is still Ron ;)

Stevenrtindall: Great idea! Thank you for that. Stay tuned to see what happens!

DREAMSandLOVE: Thank you! I hope you keep reading and that you liked this chapter. I understand the needing inspiration. That's always tough. I hope you find your inspiration soon 3