Draco collapsed on his bed sweat soaked and exhausted. He snorted at himself. That had been a truly pathetic display. His increase in energy and new clothes, he loved clothes, had left him invigorated and feeling strong. It had been a long time since he'd had a space of his own with things he could what ever he liked with.
He'd attempted to rearrange the furniture but had only gotten as far as the bedside table and the chest of drawers. Now both pieces remained askew in the center of the room.
He was so much weaker than he imagined. Lying on his back he raised his arms to look at them. He hadn't really noticed the weight loss when it was happening. In his sixth year the stress and anxiety of having to kill Professor Dumbledore had left him with little appetite. He'd lost all of the muscle he'd gained as a seeker but his mind had been too consumed with guilt and fear to notice.
Torture doesn't inspire much of an appetite really. To eat in the Manor meant to eat with the Dark Lord himself and Draco had avoided him at all costs.
By the time he was sent to Azkaban he was what most people would consider too thin and his robes had hung from him but his mind had been on more important things and he'd thought little of it.
In prison their had been no mirrors. In fact he hadn't seen his reflection until that first bath when they'd arrived at Ron's flat. Draco hadn't recognized himself. He'd had no idea just how emaciated he'd become.
Draco turned his forearms in front of his eyes searching for a more flattering angle but he couldn't find one. He disgusted himself. At least wearing clothes too large for him helped to hide his bony frame a bit but there was nothing he could do about his face.
He'd always had an angular visage. As he'd gotten older the points on his face had become more defined in an elegant way. Now his cheekbones, brow bones, nose and chin jutted out in sharp cutting ridges. His cheeks sunk in and dark circles from years of poor sleep made his face look skeleton like. He was ugly.
This was a hard fact for Draco Malfoy to stomach. Vanity was a major character trait for him. He'd always been proud of his face, his pale alabaster skin, his grey eyes, and silky blonde hair. No matter what, his looks had always been something he could fall back on.
Even if people disliked his personality or couldn't be bought, his good looks had won them over in the end. Now he was a shadow of the gorgeous child he'd once been; a distorted adult version that no one could possibly want, let alone look at. It left him feeling vulnerable and unsure of his own skin.
Draco let his gaze fall from his arms to look down the length of his body. He felt so small. He felt tiny next to Ron but he was only a couple inches shorter than him. Draco was tall and perhaps that was what made this worse. He had long limbs but despite his height he felt like a little kid. It was as if the bed didn't even give to his weight. He ran his tongue over his teeth in frustration.
Only a little bit ago he'd felt some sort of attraction to Ron now he felt foolish for even entertaining the notion. Even if he found Ron attractive there was no way in hell that Ron, even if he were gay, would find this bag of bones appealing. Hell no one would.
Not that it mattered now. For now, he told himself. As long as he was Ron's slave he wasn't free to pursue love or sex in any fashion. He would need Ron's permission to be with someone and for that matter he'd be unable to refuse a partner of Ron's choosing. Draco cringed at the memory of pictures of slaves forced to perform sexual acts for partygoers or gatherings in his father's books.
Shaking his head he steered his thoughts in another direction. He was eating proper food. The weight would come back, if Weasley continued to feed him, and there had been no signs that he would stop. He had more important things to think about.
It was clear to him that Ron knew very little about the slave bond, if anything at all. It seemed pure luck that the Weasel had yet to invoke it in another way than the first day. Trust the git to manage something without even realizing. Weasley had not known that he needed to provide him with permission to use his things so it was fair to assume he did not know anything else that came with his new title of master.
Draco snorted. He must have panicked when they told him what he was at the Ministry for.
It was somewhat ironic that he would end up a slave; he'd had a perverse passion for wizard slavery. It had fascinated him. The binding magic, the link between owner and slave, all of it had left him wondering just how it worked and now here he was, in it.
For years he'd scoured his father's collection looking for masters who had treated their slaves kindly, used the bond to strengthen each other and not for abuse. Or for a slave who was able to break the bond and find freedom. He was sure there had to be someone but he'd never found the proof.
The question was if he should simply tell Ron about the binding and the contract. Draco could let him know exactly what he had control over so that Ron could avoid abusing his power accidentally. Perhaps his ignorance was the only thing keeping Draco safe. Draco wasn't sure he could trust Ron yet. He would tell him eventually.
Rolling back and forth Draco took in the wonderful feeling of his bed. The last couple nights had been bliss yet uncomfortable. He'd slept on the floor for so long that he struggled to feel tired in a bed. He'd lie on the floor of his room until he was struggling to keep his eyes open then he'd force himself to move to the bed.
Waking up was luxury. It was all a luxury. Draco chuckled. Weasley's bed wasn't even that nice. The mattress was harder than the one he'd had at the manor, the bed frame was cheap and the blankets until now had been second rate at best. He couldn't believe this was "luxury" for him now. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
(RPOV)
Malfoy emerged some time later soaked in sweat and looking exhausted. Ron had assumed from the shuffling and bustling going on behind the door that he'd been moving the furniture. Raising his eyebrows he said,
"I don't think someone as tiny as you should be moving furniture." Draco huffed and collapsed on the couch.
"And what would you know about my body Weasel?" He asked tilting his head so he could look at Ron.
Ron grunted and sipped his beer. He was watching a program on the television, a "funny videos" program that showed clips of muggles doing stupid things like falling over. It was in fact quite funny or at least he thought so.
"That it's shite." Ron replied. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Malfoy roll his eyes. They sat in silence, Ron chuckling from time to time Draco fighting to keep a smile from his face. After some time Malfoy said,
"Weasley?" Ron glanced at him. Malfoy hadn't adjusted his position; he still lay across the couch his head tilted up and back to see the T.V.
"Yeah?" He prompted.
"You have a job do you not?" That surprised Ron. He hadn't expected that Draco would ask him about his work. He watched as Draco ran his tongue over his top teeth, "A profession? Or you did? At that Wheeze Place I believe. Do you ever intend to return too it or will you be spending all your time in this flat from now on?"
Honestly Ron hadn't really thought about it. They had a shop girl, Tiffany, who took care of the actual selling and George designed everything they sold. He was hardly needed at all, an unnecessary middleman. He'd just forced his way in. Took over in order to comfort his parents. It was common for him to take weeks off at a time. He'd wander back in eventually and it was always the same…
"You weren't downstairs yesterday then?" George would ask distractedly bent over a potion.
"No George I haven't been here for the past five days mate." Ron would say something like this.
"You sure?" George would ask looking up and running his hands through his long hair. His brow crinkled with uncertainty. "But we're sure we saw you."
Ron would then ignore the "we". He was used to George talking to Fred in front of him. Since Fred had died George always used, we or us when referring to himself. As if Fred had simply moved in when his body was no longer any good. He was one of the only members of their family, besides his father, who could stomach it. "Look it doesn't matter. I'm back now, if you need me, alright?" He'd say.
"We didn't need you those three; or was it five days? You "weren't here" so why would we need you now? Unless you want to try out our new wheeze?" George would get a mischievous look on his face.
"You wish," Ron would say grinning, "I'll be down stairs."
Every time it was like that. At times he felt as though he was getting through to him, that they were making progress but then he'd hit a wall. He needed help with him. George wasn't really improving at all. In fact he seemed to be just as stuck as Ron, unable to move forward. There had been many times Ron had gone to the Burrow or Grimmauld Place with the intention of asking for help only to change his mind when he was told what a great thing he was doing with George and how there was "no one but him" who could do what he was doing. It left Ron feeling trapped. No one even offered to help him.
Ron sipped his beer again; "It's not really a big deal if I'm in the store or at home. I do mostly paper work and that can be done anywhere really." He said taping the top of his beer against his chin.
"Huh." Malfoy said, " I would have expected someone like you to feel cooped up being inside all the time. You used to go flying quite often in school." That was true but how did Malfoy know that?
"You trying to get rid of me?" Ron asked amusement in his voice. "You've been inside just as long as me. Don't you want to go outside?" Malfoy's eyes pulled away from the screen to focus on Ron's face and he sneered.
"Perhaps you've forgotten Weaselbee but I spent the last four years in one room. This flat is significantly larger than any room I've been in since the war. It's practically enormous by my standards of late." Ron looked sheepish.
"Well even if that's true I would have thought someone who just got out of prison would want to spend all their time outside…..I would"
"You're not an ex-death eater. No one was at your trial crying for the kiss. People want me dead Weasel. And have you considered that people know what this thing is." He flicked at his collar, "Do you feel like explaining what I'm doing with you with this around my neck?"
Ron made a face, "Yeah in that case lets stay in."
"Lets"
"But just for now. It's going to get out eventually Malfoy. You can't just stay in this flat until we figure this out. I know we're going to try but we don't know how long it could take to unbind us. It could be years." Ron said rubbing at his eyes.
"I have absolutely no intention of walking around in public with a collar on. I'm not a dog." Malfoy replied
"We could find one that looks more like a necklace or something," Ron said looking at the tv again and draining the rest of his beer. "You like accessories and sparkly things. We could get you a nice sparkly necklace."
"Ha a sparkly necklace?" Draco said shifting. "I shudder at what your taste would probably drum up."
As Ron pursed his lips at the insult as Draco adjusted his head on the couch cushions. "You liked the clothes didn't you? I have pretty good taste Malfoy."
"Since when?"
"Since I had the money. I wasn't dressed like that by choice. We don't all have wealthy families with a disposable income. Everything was second hand I rarely wore anything I chose in a shop." Ron worked hard to keep his emotions in check. He always got rattled up when he talking about his families poverty especially with Malfoy. However, they weren't poor anymore and he wasn't a child.
Draco was watching him. He looked as though he was thinking. Ron waited for the venomous condescension that was sure to come. Instead he said,
"That's right. I forgot how poor your family was before the war. It's strange I've never had much of a concept of money. I always had so much of it. It looses its value the more you have. I couldn't comprehend poverty. Not being able to buy nice new things. Now I suppose I will have some idea." He trailed off and Ron wanted to ask him what he meant but Malfoy opened his mouth to speak once more, "But those dress robes you wore in fourth year. I refuse to believe that those were the best you could afford. You must be your parents least favorite, those were hideous!" He sniggered. Ron couldn't help but laugh.
"They were even worse than that. They had ruffles on the sleeves and collar but I magiced them off that's why they were so frayed at the ends." He laughed. "those were the worst."
Malfoy snorted, amused and tilted his head further back. His neck was so exposed. It looked bent out of place as if it could be broken. Ron felt his mind warp the image and a wave of nausea hit him. The way Draco was angled, the light glow of old sweat on his skin, his emaciated frame, his slow shallow breaths and the way he only blinked every now and again made him look like a corpse. Ron didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.
"Man stop sitting like that. You look messed up. Sit up straight." He said adjusting in his own chair.
What happened next startled him. Malfoy rose like he'd been shocked. Ron jumped as the boy swung himself up and dramatically righted himself on the couch. Even Malfoy looked startled for a moment before a look of furry contorted his features. He jumped to his feet grey eyes livid,
"You!" Words failed him. His mouth flapped wordlessly then he erupted, "You stupid bastard!" he yelled and stormed off into his room slamming the door behind him. Ron stared after him. What did I do?
If Ron had expected that things would go back to their hesitant civility the next morning he was sorely mistaken. Whatever had ruffled Malfoy's feathers the night before continued to boil his blood for the next four days. Draco had become utterly insufferable.
He refused to speak to Ron and when he did it was only to let a snide comment slip between them. More frustrating still was that he refused to do anything as well. He'd ignore Ron until Ron was forced to yell at him to do something as simple as eat. Then, puppet like, Malfoy's body would lurch into action and in its wake would stand a heaving infuriated blonde.
He didn't want to order him around. By the second morning he'd figured out what was going on. Truthfully he'd tested it out that morning a few times just to see if he was right. It creeped him out that all he had to say was do this or do that and Malfoy would hop right too it. Malfoy seemed unable to resist in any fashion, if he was trying to resist at all. Ron needed to talk to Draco about this development with the bond.
On the third night he'd attempted to rectify the situation.
Malfoy had been hiding in his room. Ron knocked and entered not waiting for the "no" he knew he'd get if he asked to come in. Draco lay on his bed reading and glared at Ron from over the edge of the book.
"Look Malfoy I get it now and I'm sorry. I didn't know that giving you an order meant you were magically forced to comply. I've never had to think about giving commands before." He ran a hand through his hair. "You know people don't have to do what I tell them so it doesn't matter if I tell them to sit up. Honestly I thought you'd just tell me to fuck off." Draco was watching him. Grey eye's unblinking.
"Go on," he drawled.
Ron rolled his eyes, "Right, so from here on I, your master, break the magic bond that requires you bend to my will against your own." He waited, "There that should do it right?"
To his surprise the look of relief on Draco's face had come with a small smile.
"Thank you." Draco had said with a nod before returning to his book. Ron had left with a smile of his own.
The good feelings didn't last long. On the fourth night Ron told Draco to go to bed not intending it to be an order.
He'd roused the boy from sleep on the couch and said softly, "Don't' sleep out here. Go to bed Malfoy."
Draco's eyes had snapped open and a look of horror crossed his face. As fast as he could he latched his hands into the couch cushions only to end up carrying them around the couch as his legs stood and began walking of their own accord. So viciously did Draco fight the slave bond that he ended up on his stomach fingernails digging into the hard wood while his legs continued to drag his body as if an invisible force was tugging him down the hall.
It had taken Ron far to long to correct the situation. He had been so horrified and entranced by the scene that it wasn't until Malfoy was upright in his doorway clutching on to his doorframe with all his might that Ron broke through his trance.
"Stop!" He'd shouted. With that the force disappeared and Draco tumbled to the floor. He'd looked up at Ron his eyes wide. In his face Ron saw confusion, frustration, rage, and something else that looked a lot like fear.
Stepping forward Ron had tried to reach out to him.
"Draco," He said but he stopped short as Malfoy rose and hissed,
"Get away from me." Then turned and slammed his bedroom door behind him.
Now looking down at the claw marks in his hard wood floors Ron decided it was time. He couldn't put it off any longer. He needed Harry and Hermione. If this was what the bond looked like and he couldn't call it off like he'd thought he need to find a way around it or spend the rest of their days speaking as carefully as possible. Moving across the room to his fireplace and fire-called Harry Potter at number 12 Grimmauld Place.
The Golden Trio sat in silence for a while after Ron finished explaining just why he desperately need their help. It was nerve-wracking watching his best friends process what was going on. Hermione had reacted very much the way he had expected she would. She'd arrived frazzled and annoyed by Ron's impatience and utter lack of manners but prepared to help him manage whatever situation he'd gotten himself into. Harry, like always, had been concerned and eager to help. Now he sat with a frown on his face. He was staring off into space silent and lost in thought.
"Why didn't you contact us Ronald?" Hermione sighed as she went to stand. She walked over to the window, one arm folded under the other and a hand pressed against her lips. She frowned out at the view. Ron watched her as she went. He could feel a growing tension between his shoulder blades. Harry had yet to say anything at all. He was now looking at Ron but clearly his mind was still elsewhere.
"Honestly Ron," Hermione said throwing out her arms and turning to face them again, new vigor in her movements and voice. "How can you be so foolish all the time? I do not understand how you rationalize your decisions. Do you know what you have done? Do you know. What. You've. Done? Malfoy is your property now, forever!" She emphasized her point with wild gestures accompanying every word.
Being near Hermione was still difficult. Since their breakup they had been carefully rebuilding their friendship. Hermione had suggested they take it slow and steady for Ron's sake but she had a tendency (when she was scolding him) to forget that they were not on normal terms.
For Ron their relationship had been everything, his last remaining comfort from life before the war. He'd intended to make her his world and she'd been able to drop him like he'd never meant a thing to her. When they were on good terms, out to dinner the three of them or at the Burrow Ron could almost forget that she'd ever made him promises and then refused to keep them.
However, at these moments it was as if their break up had happened yesterday. He didn't need to be scolded like a little boy. He wasn't an idiot, even if everyone else thought so. Of course he knew what this meant but what choice had he had? He had thought that the two of them would understand. He was bloody well sure they'd have done the same thing.
"Yeah Mione I know, but what was I supposed to do? They didn't tell me why I was there until I got to the Ministry, by the time I thought to contact you guys it was too late. Bloody hell he was right in the other room. It took no time at all and they were so prepared. And even if I had thought of it sooner how was I supposed to get a hold of you? How? Should I have stopped him mid sentence and been like, 'Excuse me can I fire call someone real quick? Just you know pause this whole slave bonding ceremony and let me go ask my friends what they think?' Is that what you would have done?"
Hermione made of face of indignation, "Yes!" she cried punctuating every word with a wave of her arms, "That's exactly what you should have done Ronald! Ugh" She huffed rubbing her face in her hands and collapsing back in her seat, "how can you be so thick all the time?"
Ron slumped "Well I didn't think of it then. They told me he'd go to someone else if I didn't take him but they wouldn't tell me who. It could have been anyone. I couldn't have that on my shoulders. If he'd gone to someone who really hated him, you know genuinely hated him, who knows what he or she would have done to him. I couldn't have that on my conscience."
"Don't you genuinely hate him?" Harry asked rising from his stupor to raise his eyebrows at Ron, "I mean didn't we all hate him at Hogwarts?"
Ron was taken aback, "Well I suppose we did. I don't know mate. Sure I hated him. He was a stupid git, a complete arse, and he made our lives hell but he's still Malfoy, yeah? He's one of us. We went to school together, had classes together, we fucking grew up together. I don't know in that moment I just thought, I don't actually hate him." Harry nodded slowly.
"Yeah childhood rivalry seems rather pathetic now after everything."
"Exactly! And I thought if Harry could testify for him, forgive him and everything, I might as well too." Ron said though he wasn't really sure he meant it. He'd really not thought about it much until this moment. He'd been moving on mostly impulse and had forgotten that he at one point really had hated Malfoy.
It was strange now to think that there had been a time when he'd been happy to hear of truly horrible things happening to the man who now wore a pair of Ron's pajamas to bed. The war had changed a lot of things for the three of them but for Ron the war and especially the loss of his brother had tilted things into a different perspective. Hating Malfoy seemed such a waste of energy now.
Harry stirred and shifted more up right in his seat, "This is very serious though Ron. I don't know much about it but from what I do know it's a nasty business, slave magic. I knew the Ministry was considering it for retributions but I never thought it would be approved. I told Kingsley it was unethical, I thought he'd listened and we were on the same page… " Harry trailed off his eyes glazing over once more.
"This is absolutely repulsive. Slavery is wrong no matter who the slave is or what they've done. I cannot believe that the Minister would agree to this. We have to put a stop to this Harry." Hermione said that same look of injustice she used to get whenever she talked about S.P.E.W. on her face. Harry looked at Hermione and nodded.
"I'll talk to the Minister, see if I can't figure out what he was thinking when he agreed to this, in the mean time perhaps it would be best if Malfoy…"
"What we need to do now is try to find a way to break the contract!" Hermione interjected leaning forward and shaking her head. "Malfoy only had a couple months left on his sentence to enslave him at this point is just cruel. We need to find a way to set him free!"
"Well I'm not sure.." Harry started to say.
"What's he like Ron? His condition must be terrible. " Hermione said not hearing Harry at all.
Ron pursed his lips, "When they brought him out it was like I didn't even recognize him. He barely even looks like Malfoy."
"What do you mean? He's changed that much?" Harry asked.
There was something strange about the way he asked as if his concern was motivated by something Ron could place. Ron thought it was strange but put it aside. Harry had always been a caring person and hero type. He probably was just worried about Malfoy's health like Hermione.
"He's so thin it's disgusting. It's hard to look at him sometimes. Just watching him walk up in those giant chains, all quite and obedient, I thought for sure he wasn't even in there but he's still as insufferable as he was four years ago. Don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing." He felt a smile reach his face at the thought of the snarky blonde back at his flat.
"Well at least Azkaban didn't break him. I'll do some research after work tomorrow. You can't be the only person in history who wanted to break the slave bond. Has he seen a healer?" Ron nodded his head.
His eyes drifted back to Harry. His silence was making him uncomfortable. He'd barely said anything at all about Malfoy. Ron opened his mouth to ask Harry what was wrong when Hermione asked,
"He has? He's been seen by a medi-wizard?" Ron huffed exasperated, "They had some Ministry healer look him over before we left. He seems fine, just malnourished."
"A Ministry healer? That's just for superficial injuries so that the merchandise looks good Ron! For all anyone knows he could have internal bleeding, he could be incredibly sick! He needs a check up. He needs to go to St. Mungo's." Ron's temper snapped,
"Merlin's balls! He doesn't want to go in public 'Mione!" Harry reacted to this,
"Why not?" Ron turned to look at him and took a deep breath. "The collar," He said motioning to his neck, "He's still got the bloody black metal collar on. They said I could change it to anything I want but I don't know the spell." Ron saw a strange emotion flicker across Harry's face at this but he couldn't discern it.
"Come on I'll do it. " Hermione said. She started to stand and grabbed her bag.
"Wait, I didn't, he doesn't know I've told you. I should give him a heads up before you come crashing in." Ron protested. Hermione rolled her eyes,
"Fine then you go ahead first and we'll follow."
Ron looked at Harry once more, "You'll come too mate?" He asked fighting to keep his anxiety out of his face and voice. He wanted Harry to come. Harry nodded his brow furrowed,
"Why though?" Harry asked.
Ron frowned, "Why what?"
"Why'd they give him to you?" Once again Ron registered something strangely off about Harry and once again he ignored it,
"Well they didn't at first, he was supposed to go to George." He told them as Hermione pulled on his arm.
"Okay, go ahead Ron, we're right behind you." Hermione said. As Ron was about to step into the fire Harry stopped him again,
"He doesn't call you 'Master' does he?" He asked a joking sort of grin on his face. Ron let out a breath of relief. There was the Harry he knew and loved. He smiled,
"Nah mate, could you imagine that? I mean can you picture Malfoy calling anyone Master? That would be way too strange." Ron laughed and Harry's grin grew pulling wide towards his ears,
"yeah that would be strange." Ron chuckled again and stepped into the hearth. He was about to call out the name of his flat when he remembered,
"Oh yeah he did call me it once, cheeky bugger. Right after the binding ceremony, he was on his knees. Looked up at me yeah? And goes, "What now, Master." Ron smiled thinking of the challenging look Malfoy had given him when he'd said those words and the relief he'd felt to see that nasty sneer on Draco's face. When he looked round however he saw Harry's smile falter,
"Ha," Harry said, "See you back at yours yeah?" Ron nodded and called the name of his flat "The Cavern".
AN: SORRY! Sorry! I know it's been forever and you probably believed this was abandoned. It's not at all. I've been traveling and away from a laptop and internet. It was amazing but now I'm back and will do my best to keep up with this story. I'm also working on a next generation story! Like always i love reviews and constructive criticism! What's happening with Harry eh? We shall see... (If you spot any major typos let me know. I've reread this so many times I'm sure i've missed some)