July 2, 1985

The Vauxhall Cavalier puttered down the dirt road, a constant sound of gravel crackling under the wheels mixing in with the chirping of birds.

It was a beautiful day in the English countryside. The sun shone bright and the rolling green hills looked lush and lively. It was a postcard image.

Vernon Dursley was fuming every second of it.

The Dursleys were packed into the family car. Vernon was stuffed into the driver's seat. Even with the seat pushed all the way back, he still barely fit, his stomach pushing up against the steering wheel. Petunia was next to him, staring out the window, her nails digging into her thighs nervously.

"Dear, maybe we should turn around. There was a town a few miles back, maybe we could ask for directions." She said tentatively, knowing Vernon would not take well to her words.

Vernon waved her off with a meaty fist. "Nonsense, Petunia. We don't need any ruddy directions." He shook a crumpled up sheet of paper at her. "Got the directions right here."

When Marge had invited them over to her new home out near the coast, she'd sent Vernon a letter with written instructions on how to get there. Vernon being Vernon, he'd refused to use anything other than his sister's directions, not even glancing at a map or, worse, asking for help.

"This doesn't look like the coast." Petunia commented as they passed by herds of cattle.

"You know how it is out here. We'll crest this hill and we'll be right at the coast."

Petunia very much doubted that. And she was right. They crested the hill, only to see endless countryside stretching down as far as they could see.

"Dad! When can we stop for food?" Dudley cried out from the back. He had a veritable smorgasbord of snacks with him, taking up most of the back, but he was hungry for a burger and some fries. They'd stopped to eat at the last town, but that had been half an hour ago.

"Don't worry Dudders, we'll come up on something soon." Vernon ensured.

As he looked back at his son through the rearview, his eye caught a glimpse of the final passenger. He grunted in disgust as he saw his freak of a nephew, trapped into a corner, boxed in by Vernon's seat and all of Dudley's stuff.

"There better not be any unnaturalness going on back there, boy!"

A faint voice answered back. "No, Uncle Vernon."

The man huffed.

Harry stared out the window, trying to let his mind drift, imagining himself free out in the countryside, flying around like the happy little birds. They'd been driving for hours and he hadn't been let out, even when they'd stopped. He ached, barely having any room to move between Dudley's toys digging into his side and Vernon's seat almost crushing his legs.

Usually he was left out of these outings. The Dursleys would drop him off at Mrs. Figg's and he'd have a couple of boring but abuse free days with the old woman and her many cats.

But Marge had insisted Harry come. In the Dursley tradition, she enjoyed verbally and physically abusing Harry too much to simply let him slip by.

Harry remembered how he'd felt when they'd first squeezed into the car. The anxiety that rose within him as the reality set in, this was really happening, he was about to spend a horrible weekend at Aunt Marge's. When his uncle had pulled out the slip of paper with directions and began inspecting it, Harry had wished with all his heart that the directions were wrong, that they would get them lost.

It seemed that somehow his wish had come true. Harry had never been on a road trip, but he knew for certain that they were completely lost.

"Should be a left turn right here." Vernon said as he looked from the paper to the road, stretching for miles on end with no turns or intersections in sight. "Must be a bit further down."

Petunia sighed. Vernon shot her a look, and the woman just continued to stare out the window.

"Daaad, can we get some ice cream?" Dudley whined.

Vernon's mustache bristled. Harry inadvertently kicked his seat. "Boy, keep your freakishness under control back there!" He boomed.

Harry remained quiet. Dudley shot him an ugly sneer and punched him hard in the arm. "Yeah, freak!"

The car suddenly sputtered. The family of four all looked over to the fuel gauge, which was sitting comfortably on empty.

"I told you Vernon, we should have fueled up earlier!" Petunia said in her shrill voice.

Vernon grunted. "It's still supposed to have a few miles left." He slapped the dashboard. "Don't make these bloody things like they used to."

The four of them got out of the car. Harry felt relief at finally being able to stretch his legs.

"Maybe someone will pass by soon?" Petunia wondered. They hadn't seen a single car in over an hour.

Vernon looked around. "Petunia, you and Dudley stay here in case someone does drive by. I'll go see if there's anyone in one of these farms." He turned to glare at Harry. "Boy, Follow me. I will not have you try any of your freakishness on my wife."

Harry gulped. "Yes Uncle Vernon." He droned.

They walked down the road, trying to spot a farmhouse or any other building. The heat wasn't scorching, and there was a nice breeze. If Harry pretended his uncle wasn't there, he'd actually be enjoying himself.

His eyes were scanning the landscape when he saw it. It was so conspicuous, it was kind of ridiculous they hadn't seen it before.

Immediately to their left, as if it had just sprung out of nowhere, there was a sprawling manor house. It was several stories, with manicured gardens surrounding the property.

Glancing back, his uncle had wandered away in the other direction, continuing down the endless road. Harry thought about calling out to his uncle, but decided against it. He knew he'd get in trouble for it later, but the manor called to him.

As he approached the well manicured grounds, Harry felt as if there was a barrier. Some sort of invisible membrane or bubble stood between him and the house. It was a strange feeling, and Harry tried to shake it off. As he got closer to the manor, the pressure against him increased. Harry forced himself to keep walking, until finally he heard a pop, as if he'd pierced through the bubble.

Feeling no more resistance, the boy shrugged. He ambled towards the large estate, staring in awe at the elaborately trimmed hedges and the brightly colored peacocks that were pecking at some feed.

Whoever lived here was very well off, that was for certain.

Harry brushed up against a tall plant and his sleeve got tangled in it. Stumbling, the boy tried to pull himself loose, but the plant would not budge. It was almost as if it was gripping on to him.

Harry heard a weird gurgle and some shifting of leaves. Before he knew it, vines were wrapped around his torso.

Harry began to panic, the more he tried to break free the more entangled he became in the vines. At one point his glasses slipped off from his face, and the young boy screamed as he looked up.

It was a large flowering head, but it looked like it had a mouth, with rows and rows of teeth dripping a viscous liquid. A drop fell on Harry's hand and burnt him badly. The boy yelled out for help, but his mouth was quickly gagged by a vine.

The red head of the giant flower was wide open, awaiting its meal as the vines pulled him towards it. Harry could only look in horror. At just five years old, he was about to be eaten by some bizarre plant. He was terrified and alone and not for the first time, he wished his mother was there.

"Got yourself a muggle there?" A young voice asked from nearby.

Suddenly the plant stopped moving, and just as Harry was about to be consumed by its gaping maw, he was dropped unceremoniously onto the soft ground.

Harry groaned, dirt on his face as he stumbled up to his feet, wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the murderous plant. Harry crawled more than ran until he was certain he'd left the plant's range.

And so he ended up bumping his head against a pair of pale shins.

"Well, at least you know your place, muggle."

Harry looked up to see an angel. She could be no older than himself, with long, platinum blonde hair, deep gray eyes and delicate features. The girl was wearing a very expensive looking sundress, and she held a glowing blue orb in her hand. The light from the orb seemed to be hurting the plant, as it was writhing and shrinking away from the rays.

As he stared up into her eyes, dumbstruck, a pair of figures rapidly approached.

"Darcia, what have we told you about following strange noises?" A woman's voice came through.

Harry looked over to see two adults, clearly this girl's parents. The man had the same blonde hair as his daughter, loose and long down to his shoulders. The woman's hair was a darker shade of blonde, and Harry found her quite beautiful, even with the derisive sneer on her face. A sneer that they all shared.

"I found a muggle trespassing, Mother! He was about to be eaten by the Carnivora."

The father scoffed. "How ridiculous. No wizard can penetrate our wards, much less a muggle."

The adults finally reached them. The mother gasped and the father stiffened when they saw Harry at Darcia's feet.

Harry whimpered. These people did not seem very nice. Scrambling up to his feet, Harry shifted on his toes. "I-I'm sorry sir, ma'am. My family got stranded and I needed to look for help and I was just coming here to ask for-"

"Harry Potter!?" The man asked incredulously.

Harry blinked in confusion. How did the man know his name? Looking at the girl and her mother, they both looked shocked to their core, staring at him as if he were an alien.

Maybe he truly was a freak, like his uncle always said.

"Y-yes sir, that is my name." Harry said with downcast eyes.

The father suddenly stepped up to him. He put a hand to Harry's head, and as Harry jumped slightly in fright, he pulled back the fringe of Harry's hair.

"The scar." The man stated.

"Lucius, how could this be?" The woman asked.

"Is that really Harry Potter, daddy?"

The wheels were turning in Lucius' head as he looked down at the boy, who was squirming uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Darcia. You said you saved this young boy's life?"

Before the girl could answer, Harry himself spoke up. "She did sir! She saved me from that plant. And I'm really thankful!"

A smile formed on the Malfoy lord's face.

"Why don't you come in, child. We'll get you washed up and fed."

Harry followed along with the Malfoys. He felt a bit uneasy around them, but then again, there wasn't a time in his life where he didn't. They couldn't be worse than the Dursleys.

….

Two days later

Albus Dumbledore was stressed. There was no doubt about it. For the first time since the war, the old man was well and truly sweating bullets.

It had started two days ago, when all his devices monitoring Harry Potter had instantly failed. This could only mean one of two things: either the boy had died, or the trackers he had placed on him were removed.

Albus had immediately gone to Privet Drive, only to find the family gone. Arabella Figg informed him that they were on a weekend trip, supposedly to visit Vernon's sister.

Albus used the lock of Petunia's hair he kept around to locate the Dursleys, who were lost in the middle of a road somewhere in Wiltshire. The family had no idea where Harry had gone off to, and worse of all, they didn't seem to care one bit.

Dumbledore had felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. Had the boy been killed? The area didn't seem to have any dangerous animals, but even a farm animal was a potential danger to a five year old.

Then Dumbledore had realized where he was, and where exactly Vernon had said he'd lost track of the boy.

It had taken him the past two days to be allowed in to Malfoy Manor. Now he was in a small sitting room, Cornelius Fudge next to him, fidgeting in his seat. His only respite was the knowledge that Harry must be alive.

"Minister, Chief Warlock, a pleasure as always." Lucius nodded toward both of them as he took his seat.

"Lucius, always a pleasure." Fudge tipped his hat. Anyone witnessing their dynamic would think Lucius was the Minister and Fudge merely his stooge, and they would be correct.

"Lord Malfoy." Dumbledore nodded.

"What can I do for you two gentlemen today?"

"Well, Lucius. Albus has come to me, claiming that you have Harry Potter?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "And how did the Headmaster come about this information?"

"So, he is here." Albus accused.

Lucius gave the man an inscrutable look. "Young Mr. Potter came to our home, and he is now living with us."

"He came to your home Lucius?" Fudge asked nervously as he felt Dumbledore tense up next to him.

Lucius nodded. "He can tell you himself." His head turned towards the door. "Darcia, if you would please enter."

Both guests' question of why Lucius had called for his daughter was quickly answered when the girl entered the room. She looked like the classic image of a pampered pureblood princess. She wore a light green dress, matching the headband she used to hold back her long platinum blond hair. Her hands were wrapped around a short golden leash, which itself was attached to a golden collar, a collar around the neck of a five year old boy with raven black hair, green eyes and a lightning bolt scar.

"What have you done?!" Dumbledore boomed. He leveled his wand at Lucius, who tried his best to keep his composure, but couldn't help but tremble under the glare of the only wizard his master had feared.

Keep it together. You hold all the cards.

Even repeating this to himself, Lord Malfoy's heart was still beating a mile a minute, his hands sweating profusely as he knew that reaching for his wand was useless.

"Lucius! There better be a good explanation for this!" Fudge blustered. Even he couldn't allow Lucius to get away with this. To enslave the Boy-Who-Lived?

"If you would both calm yourselves, the boy himself can explain his situation." Lucius did all he could to keep his voice level and controlled.

"The boy looks to have been beaten and starved. How are we to know he won't say what you've told him to?" Dumbledore said with righteous anger.

Confidence surged in Lucius. The old man had dug himself deeper and deeper into a pit without even knowing it. Once this little meeting was concluded, Dumbledore's standing would be greatly diminished.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Chief Warlock, the nature of that chain, the chain only my daughter can hold, means that if she commands him to speak truthfully, he will."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, but he took a step back and sat down once more, though his wand was still firmly in his hands. Fudge fell into his chair in a heap, looking like he was hoping to wake up from this nightmare at any moment.

Lucius smiled. "Now then, Darcia, if you would." He gestured to his daughter.

"Of course, father." The girl said smugly. She turned to the boy, who looked back at her lovingly. "Harry, tell them how I found you"

And so, Harry recounted the story, from the moment his family's car broke down.

"And then mistress saved me from the plant, and the Lord and the Lady showed up." Harry finished.

Albus had flinched when Harry had said the word mistress. He noticed that Harry hadn't gotten to the part where he'd been enslaved.

"And afterwards?" He asked, looking over at the boy who was standing close to the Malfoy heiress, looking down at the floor.

"Afterwards, my daughter claimed the life debt the boy owed her, and he became her slave." Lucius interjected crisply. "An unfortunate development, but one we were unable to prevent."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. This was clearly not exactly what had happened, otherwise Lucius would have had Harry say it. Still, due to the nature of the situation, he would be unable to press the boy directly, and Lucius had surely coached his daughter on how to avoid revealing any unwanted truths. He would need to tread carefully. "And your daughter is aware of such things as life debts?"

Lucius looked smugly back at Dumbledore. "We make sure to educate our daughter about our culture. Especially on topics your own institution has been neglecting."

Dumbledore took the barb in stride. He needed to figure out a way to turn this. "And how can you explain the boy's condition, Lucius? He looks to have been badly mistreated."

Now Lucius did not even attempt to hide his triumphant grin. The man had dug his own grave with such haste, it was rare to see Dumbledore fumble so badly.

"Darcia." He nodded towards his daughter once more.

Darcia nodded back. Her eyes actually held some kindness when she looked over at the boy once more. "Harry, if you could tell them about your family."

The boy stiffened, but his mistress had ordered him and so he talked. He talked about the cupboard, he talked about the beatings, the clothes that didn't fit, the insults, the humiliation and the malnourishment. He spoke of it all in a flat, emotionless tone.

At the end of Harry's speech, both Dumbledore and Fudge were dumbstruck.

The minister turned to the Headmaster. "Albus, wasn't it you that placed Harry with those muggles?"

It was like a bomb had dropped. After that moment Albus Dumbledore deflated. He had been bested by Lucius Malfoy, and it had all been his own fault.

Harry would have to stay with the Malfoys, and his status as their daughter's slave would soon be known by all. The wizarding world's only hope against the Dark Lord was now in the clutches of one of his greatest followers.

As the meeting wrapped up, with Fudge and Lucius carrying the conversation, the minister shooting Dumbledore looks similar to a shark that had smelled blood, Dumbledore could only think of one thing to salvage this.

"Lucius, one last question, if I may?"

Malfoy, feeling magnanimous in victory, chuckled. "Of course, Headmaster,"

"Will Harry be allowed to attend Hogwarts?"

The question hung in the air. As a slave, all decisions were now forfeit to his owner. If his owner did not want to pursue an education for him, it was their prerogative.

But his owner was Darcia Malfoy, not Lucius.

Lucius went to answer, but before he could, his daughter piped up.

"Of course he will! He's my property after all, I get to bring him with me!" The girl proclaimed.

Lucius eye twitched, and for the first time there was a crack. Dumbledore pressed the advantage.

"And will he be allowed to fully pursue his education?"

Once again Darcia spoke right as her father opened his mouth.

"Ummmm…sure. But he has to do all my homework for me!"

"Darcia." Lucius bit out. "I believe you can take your leave now."

Realizing she'd angered her father, the girl quickly left the room, the chained Harry following behind her.

As Albus sat in his office a few hours later, he took a deep breath. Things were bad, but it was still salvageable.

His days as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump were most likely numbered. Lucius and Cornelius would be tripping over each other to leak the truth about Harry's living conditions and Dumbledore's role in them to the press. He would only be able to hold on to one position, but thankfully, it was the most crucial one.

As he looked around his office, shelves now bare as all his monitoring devices had been rendered null, he knew what the new focus must me. Darcia Malfoy was now as important as Harry himself, and he needed to distance her from her father and his ideologies. It would be a hard row to hoe, but he had six years to come up with a plan, and his schedule had suddenly become much lighter.

He'd always loved a challenge.

….

July 31, 1991

"Did you see Nott at the last ball? His robes were atrocious. What was his mother thinking? Bright yellow with those big cuffs?"

Darcia ranted on and on, but her friends weren't really listening. Daphne and Pansy were half-heartedly playing gobstones in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. They were both waiting the requisite amount of time before they would ask Darcia to take them where they wanted to be.

Pansy Parkinson was a short, skinny girl with black hair cut in a bob and a pug-like face. Even with all that, she was still a rather cute girl, even with her rather nasty attitude.

Daphne Greengrass was similar to Darcia in many ways, and in fact they were sometimes confused as sisters. Daphne was blonde, though her hair was a bit darker than Darcia's, and her eyes were a light blue to Darcia's gray. Daphne was just slightly taller, and both girls had been unofficially competing for the title of hottest girl in their age group.

The two girls let Darcia rant on and on about whatever annoyed her. The Malfoys were the richest family around after the downfall of the Blacks, and so Lucius' daughter got to act like the leader of their little pack.

"And did you see the state of those drapes? Seriously, how could the Carrows think those things were up to snuff for an event such as that one? Father says they've always lacked refinement."

"Darcia, can we go upstairs?" Daphne asked.

"Upstairs?" The girl scrunched her face up. "But, we're playing gobstones."

"Pansy and I have been playing gobstones." Daphne corrected. "And we're kind of tired of it. We want to play with your other toy."

Darcia frowned as both girls perked up, leaning forward with hopeful looks.

"Fine," she finally huffed. Daphne and Pansy leapt from their seats and almost ran up the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, Darcia was glaring at the floor while Pansy let out little gasping moans.

The brunette was bouncing on the bed, her head thrown back as a head of raven black hair sucked on her nipples. Harry and Pansy were sitting on the bed, Harry thrusting into the young girl while she rode him wildly.

Daphne was sitting next to Harry, her hand on the boy's sweating back as he bucked into Pansy.

Harry had grown a lot in the past six years. Three square meals and being forced to run all of Darcia's errands had left the boy tall and athletic. His eyesight had been magically corrected at Darcia's request, an expense that Lucius had begrudged, even if it had been taken out of the boy's (now Darcia's) own vault.

Darcia couldn't remember when she'd started playing with her slave this way, but she remembered that day two years ago she'd introduced her friends to this new game. Darcia had done it as another way to hold power over her friends, to prove that she was that much higher up on the pecking order.

She regretted it so much now. Every time the girls came over, this was all they wanted to do, and the way Daphne kept looking at her property made her seethe.

"Ahhhhhh!" Pansy cried out in her orgasm as Harry held her hips firmly. The girl squirmed, causing Harry's cock to rub along her inner walls as she shuddered around him.

"A-A-atleast you're good for something, P-P-Potter," Pansy moaned out, no real venom in her voice as she was still riding out her peak.

"My turn!" Daphne pushed Pansy off of Harry and sank herself down on the boy's juicy cock.

Both of them sighed at the now familiar feeling of her silky walls enveloping him. Daphne stared deeply into Harry's emerald orbs. Her lashes fluttered and her face reddened, "Make love to me Harry, please."

Darcia bristled. Daphne dared use that word with someone who was nothing but her property? Someone who was only considered human because Darcia allowed it? The Malfoy heiress crossed her arms, a pout on her face as she continued to glare at the duo.

Harry had rolled on top of Daphne, setting a deep, seductive pace as they stared into each other's eyes. "Miss Daphne, you feel so good!" Harry grunted out as he rolled his hips. Daphne wrapped her legs around his waist, a gleam in her eye, "Kiss me," she whispered huskily.

They kissed, and it was the most sensual kiss Darcia had ever seen. She had never dared do that with her slave. He was just a slave after all, only there to sate her needs. Daphne was sullying herself by allowing such filth to steal her maiden's kiss.

Her eyes darted back down to where Harry was now pistoning his hips in and out of Daphne's hot quim. They never broke their kiss, holding on to each other's head until finally they broke it, crying out in pleasure as they both reached a simultaneous orgasm.

"Do it in me Harry! Don't pull out!"

Too late, Darcia realized what was happening. She stared in horror as Harry's balls contracted, pumping Merlin knows how much of his dirty slave batter into the pureblood's tight little snatch. They had always made sure the boy came outside their cunts, they couldn't risk becoming pregnant with a slave's seed.

She was shellshocked as the two of them breathed heavily, collapsed together in the bed. Pansy had fallen asleep next to them, legs splayed out in a very unladylike fashion.

An hour later the two of them dissapeared through the floo. Daphne had a satisfied sway to her hips as she walked into the fireplace. Darcia had wanted to berate her 'friend', to tell her she would never be invited to her home again and that she would tell her father about what had happened. But she'd just stayed quiet next to her mother as the girls left.

Narcissa looked down at her daughter with a knowing look. "You seem troubled, Darcia,"

Darcia was still staring off into space. "It's nothing, mother."

Narcissa remained quiet. She had a very good idea about what was going on, but she would let her daughter work things out by herself. Besides, she had an itch of her own to scratch.

"If you allow it, I will be borrowing Harry for his lessons." Narcissa stated. It was a formality to ask her daughter for permission, Darcia always granted it, unlike with her father, who had been rebuffed many times when he'd wanted to show Harry off like a caged animal at one of his events.

"Sure, mother." The girl answered, still lost in thought.

Later, Darcia heard her mother's moans echo throughout the house as Harry was surely plowing her fat ass from behind.

She and her father were alone at the dinner table, both quietly eating the meal Dobby had prepared. Narcissa's place, which had been set with care by the house elf, sat empty, her food cold.

"Oh yes! Yes! Pound me with that half-blood cock!"

Darcia glanced at her father, who showed no reaction as he cut into his steak. Darcia had known for a while there was no love in her parents' relationship. It was not required nor expected of a pureblood marriage. She'd begun to think that her parents had not been together since her birth, and the extended amount of time her father spent with his 'friends' Crabbe and Goyle explained many things.

Still, for a man to show no reaction while his wife blatantly flaunted her infidelity, in front of their daughter even! It made her blood boil.

"Finish your meal, Darcia," he drawled, pointing at her mostly untouched plate.

Her mother let out an especially loud moan. The headboard to her parents' marital bed banged loudly against the wall.

"May I be excused, father?" Darcia pushed her plate away. She wasn't hungry.

Lucius glared at his daughter for a moment. Another shriek from Narcissa and he bowed his head. "You may leave."

Darcia walked away as if in a trance. Dobby asked her something and she pushed the bothersome elf aside. She walked up the stairs, getting closer and closer to her mother's loud shrieks and wails. She meant to pass by the door and head straight to her room. She meant to close her door shut and put her pillow over her ears to shut out the sound.

Instead she found herself in front of their room. The door was slighly ajar, all she had to do was crack it open and poke her head in.

Her mother was all woman. Her father had to like men, to not spend every moment of every day between her legs. Narcissa was on all fours, facing the door as Harry fucked her from behind. Sweat was dripping down to his golden collar as he gripped Narcissa's ample bottom. Her large boobs were swinging wildly as their flesh slapped together with each thrust.

"Missus…I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it Harry! Soil this pureblood cunt!"

The young boy grunted, and Darcia saw her mother trembling as Harry filled her with his seed. Narcissa collapsed onto the bed, ass still perked up as Harry's kept flooding her pussy.

"Happy birthday, Harry." The woman said as Harry pulled out from her. Even from this angle Darcia could see cum leaking out her pussy, leaking onto her father's pillow.

"Thank you Mrs. Malfoy." Harry said meekly. They never really acknowledged his birthday, him being a slave and all. But the Dursleys hadn't bothered either, so Harry didn't know any different.

Narcissa had turned so that she was now right side up in the bed, she hugged the small boy from behind, leaving tender kisses on his back. "How many times have I told you Harry, it's Narcissa."

"Sorry, Narcissa,"

Later that night, it was time for bed. Harry made to lay on the bed. His mistress liked for him to spoon her. But this time, Darcia stopped him. "You'll be sleeping on the floor tonight, slave."

Harry looked taken aback, but he would never deny his mistress. "Understood, mistress."

He moved away from the bed and made a spot for himself on the floor. His mistress had not said he could use a pillow or a comforter so he went without.

Darcia glared down at the boy. The boy that enraged her so. He was her slave, he was supposed to make her life easier, so why the hell did he have to make things so complicated?

She tried to ignore her heart as she kept looking down at him, trying and failing to sleep on top of her carpet. She tried to ignore the pangs as the night passes and she herself could not find sleep, her bed feeling empty and cold.

It was a bit past midnight when she finally broke. Staring up into the ceiling, she spoke out. "Harry."

A pause.

"Yes mistress?"

"Come up here."

A shuffling of feet and ruffling of sheets later, and the boy's arms were wrapped firmly around he waist, his warm body pressed against hers, his hard cock pushing against her ass. It felt so right. But he was just a slave…

Darcia turned around until she was facing him. The moonlight that filtered through her large window was more than enough for her to gaze up at him, his emerald green eyes gleaming in the night.

"Who do you belong to, Harry?"

"You, mistress." Harry answered with surety.

Darcia searched his eyes, wondering if she would have the guts to ask the real question on her mind. In the end, she chickened out. But she did something she'd never done before. She placed a kiss on Harry's lips.

If he was taken aback by the gesture, Harry didn't show it. He accepted Darcia's kiss just like he accepted anything his mistress did. Darcia closed her eyes and pressed their mouths harder together. She pressed her tongue against his lips and Harry opened his mouth to allow her access. Her tongue searched hungrily, desperate to find in his kiss the answer to the question she was mortified to ask.

Her hand groped around between them until she found his stiff prick. Harry moaned into their kiss as Darcia lined it up perfectly, raising her leg slightly before she sank down onto his throbbing meat.

Their moans were muffled by their kiss as Harry began to move, giving his mistress long, slow strokes as he lovingly cupped her face.

Darcia lost herself. At this moment, she wasn't a pureblood heiress, he wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, he wasn't her slave.

Right now they were a pair of lovers giving in to their desires, to their need for each other.

She broke the kiss with a gasp, her mouth going hungrily to his neck as she tasted the salt of his sweat, each throb of his cock in her sending pulses of deep pleasure running through her body.

She whimpered as his thrusts began to overwhelm her. She buried her face into his neck, mewling as she wrapped her arms around his torso.

She felt perfect in his arms. It always had. Why had she never appreciated how wonderful it felt to be with him?

Harry gave another mighty push and Darcia shuddered as her orgasm burned through her body like a fiery blaze. Her pussy fluttered around Harry's thick cock, and she felt him begin to drag it out of her needy cunt.

"Don't!" She gasped. "Leave it,"

"But mistress." Harry protested, "I'm going to cum," hid words hung in the air, their implications clear.

But she didn't care. Her tone turned firmer, commanding. "I gave you an order, slave! Push it in deeper!"

And Harry complied. He shoved himself back into her and soon he was blasting her insides with his hot, viscous liquid.

She saw stars. The feeling of being filled by him was indescribable. It was like drinking a cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter's day, but on a much grander scale. She began to tremble even harder, her arms digging hard into Harry's torso as her cunt greedily sucked his seed in as deep as it would go.

Finally, the high receded. Neither of them said a word as their breathing began to slow and sync up.

Darcia closed her eyes. She didn't allow any stray thoughts to enter her mind. All she cared about at the moment was the pure bliss she felt as she faded into a deep sleep.

…

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was packed, even more so than usual.

Many had speculated on whether people would actually want to show up for what was to some a rather morbid affair. To see the savior of the wizarding world paraded around in chains.

It turned out that many had no problem with it. The platform was packed, not just with students and parents, but with interested onlookers and, worst of all, journalists.

"Heiress Malfoy! A moment of your time!"

Darcia felt like a star as she walked down the platform, her slave's chain firmly secured in her right hand as if it was part of her outfit.

She glanced over to the woman that had spoken. She had on a pair of garish, horn rimmed glasses as well as a bright green dress suit and pencil skirt. Her short blond curls just added to the loudness of her look.

"Yes?" She ignored her father's hand on her shoulder that was urging her to just keep walking.

"I would love to conduct an interview, the public is hungry for news about you and young Mr. Potter!"

"Unfortunately, we are short on time." Lucius jumped in before Darcia could readily agree.

Rita was about to plead her case, but Narcissa beat her to the punch. "The train won't leave for another half an hour, Lucius." She drawled. Her husband shot her a murderous glare, but Narcissa ignored it completely. "I think we have more than enough time for a private interview. With me supervising, of course."

Rita smiled, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Why of course. They're minors after all."

Before Lord Malfoy knew it, he was abandoned on the platform with His daughter's trunk, many shooting him pitying looks as his wife, his daughter and her slave all followed the notorious gossip Skeeter over to a private booth.

Rita settled into the seat opposite the Malfoy women while Harry remained standing next to Darcia. She fished around in her purse, quickly finding her quick-quotes-quill as well as a notepad. This would be the scoop of the century.

She pulled out her tools of the trade, but Narcissa placed a hand over her own, giving her pause.

"Now, now, Ms. Skeeter, I'm sure we can conduct this interview in a way that can satisfy both parties."

Rita raised an eyebrow. She had anticipated Lady Malfoy would want some form of control over the proceedings. She just needed to make sure she got her way regardless.

"Whatever do you mean by that, Lady Malfoy?" Rita played dumb.

Darcia glanced between both women with a frown on her face. She wanted to do her dann interview already!

"Well, instead of shooting your proverbial wad with a sensationalist hit piece that will make you an enemy to one of the most powerful families in Britain." Rita paled at her words, but Narcissa continued on. "Why don't we establish a longer term relationship? I'm sure your readers will be hungry for more stories about my daughter and young Harry for years to come."

"Hmmm." Rita looked very intrigued by the offer. "I'm listening."

"We collaborate on what gets published. Today, I believe a telling of how my daughter saved Harry's life would do nicely. We will give you exclusive rights for all future interviews. And, you'll be able to access some of the fringe benefits."

"Fringe benefits?"

Narcissa smiled, her eyes snapping over to her daughter. "Darcia."

It took her a moment, but once the young girl understood what her mum wanted, she frowned. "Mum! No, I don't wanna!" She crossed her arms, staring petulantly back at her mother.

Narcissa returned her daughter's glare, and Rita observed the silent war. She glanced at the Boy-Who-Lived, but the boy simply had a neutral expression, arms behind his back.

Finally, the young girl broke. "Fine!" She grumbled angrily, her eyes dropping. "Harry, go serve the reporter lady."

"As you wish, mistress." The boy bowed his head before fixing his eyes on Rita.

Rita raised an eyebrow, shooting Narcissa a confused look. The other woman only smirked.

Harry walked around the table until he stood in front of Rita. "What would you like me to do, ma'am?" He asked politely.

Rita glanced between Harry and the Malfoy women. They couldn't mean?

She thought for a moment about blowing up this whole meeting, writing an expose about how the Malfoys were pimping out the savior of the wizarding world.

But she discarded the idea. Harry Potter was a slave, nothing the Malfoys were doing was illegal. Writing that article might earn a week of outrage from some of the public, but it would also guarantee her no more traction in the future.

Besides, as she looked up at the boy, she had to admit he looked rather delicious.

She threw caution to the wind. She hiked up her skirt under the table and vanished her panties with a wave of her wand. Nodding down to her lap, she smiled at the boy. "Why don't you start by eating my pussy?"

"As you wish." Harry agreed. The boy got down on his knees and crawled under the table.

Under Narcissa's lecherous gaze and Darcia's angry pout, Rita tingled in anticipation. She felt his face brushing against her thigh, and then she felt a tongue plunge deep into her cunt.

And what a tongue it was. He was very, very skilled. The boy expertly licked, sucked and tugged at her flesh, drawing a moan from the curly haired reporter.

"Well, I believe we can conduct the interview now. Shall we?" Narcissa asked.

Rita's hands were gripping the life out of the table as Harry's tongue ran up and down her slit. "Y-Yes, of course!" Her breath hitched. She quickly ruffled around her purse and found a regular quill, putting it to her notepad while she tried to contain the shiver that was running up her spine as the boy worshiped her clit.

"N-Now, Ms. Malfoy, could you tell me how it was that you saved Mr. Potter?"

Darcia launched into her story, and Rita was valiantly able to jot down every single detail, even as she rode an orgasm that caused her to squirt her juices all over Harry's face.

Ten minutes later, the interview was finished. Darcia looked satisfied, Narcissa was smiling triumphantly and Rita was a quivering mess.

"Well, I believe that will be all for today." Narcissa said, ready to stand up.

"W-Wait!" Rita begged as Harry left from under her seat after a command from Darcia. "Please, I need… I need his cock in me."

Darcia was about to spit out a resounding no when she was stopped by her mother's hand on her shoulder. "I'm afraid that would be beyond the parameters of our current arrangement. Unless you have something else to offer?"

Rita looked desperate. "Information! I have all kinds of dirt, all the way up to the minister!"

Narcissa smiled. "Well then, as long as you agree to a vow… I think we can arrange something."

Rita blanched at the mention of a vow, but Narcissa brought her hand down, unzipping Harry's fly. She fished around his pants and then pulled out his long, hard shaft, stroking it with her delicate hands. It was the most gorgeous thing Rita had ever seen.

"I'll do it!"

And so, a few minutes later, Rita was on her knees, facing away from the Malfoy women as Harry pounded her pussy from behind. The boy was squeezing her large tits as he sawed into her squelching pussy. The blonde's shrill moans reverberated all around the booth.

Narcissa looked down at the pouty Darcia. "Why are you upset, Darcia?"

Darcia glared up at her mother. "Harry's my property! I don't like other women playing with my toys."

Narcissa saw the way her daughter's thighs were rubbing together. As much as Darcia wanted to believe what she was saying, her body betrayed the truth.

"You should feel proud, Darcia. You are using Harry to further your agenda, to further your goals. And at the end of the day, while all these other women thirst for his cock, only you control access to it. All these other women covet what you have, and that makes you very powerful indeed."

Narcissa saw as Darcia processed what she said, her frown slowly turning into a smile as she accepted Narcissa's framework. She was the girl with the best toy around, and if others wanted to play with it, they would have to worship the ground she walked on.

Narcissa just hoped that her daughter wouldn't bunch her in with all those other women. She was her mother, after all, she deserved special privileges.

"Ooh Merlin! you bloody animal!"

Rita was panting now as Harry's pelvis smacked against her fat rump, her heavy tits heaving with every thrust. She'd already cum twice, and as she felt the young boy's cock surge with his own release, she knew she was headed for a third.

"I can tell you now, these witches will be begging you to let them use Harry as a breeding stud." Narcissa whispered in her daughter's ear, "Imagine the price of such a thing. An astronomical sum, or a debt that can leave them at your mercy for a lifetime."

"Harry! Cum outside!" Darcia shouted.

Harry obeyed even as his body begged him to remain sheathed inside the older woman. He pulled out just as his cock spurted thick ropes of cum onto Rita's ass and back.

The reporter whimpered, clearly having wanted him to finish inside of her, desiring to be bred by the Boy-Who-Lived.

Narcissa walked up to Rita as Harry retreated back towards Darcia. Scooping up a bit of cum from her back, Narcissa brought it to her lips and livked her finger clean. "A most productive meeting indeed."

…

By the time they exited the booth, leaving the reporter behind to recover, the engine was steaming and the Express was ready to leave.

Lucius was fuming, glaring at the three of them as they paid him no mind.

"Remember to write, honey. And do try to keep out of trouble." Narcissa told Darcia.

Darcia grinned. "I'll do my best, mother." Neither woman missed the glint if mischief in her eye. Darcia turned to Lucius and offered just a simple nod of acknowledgement before she grabbed her trunk and Harry's collar, dragging them both up the steps and onto the train.

Narcissa waved and Lucius stewed as the train pulled away from the station. For her part, Darcia decided it was time to go searching for Daphne and Pansy.

If Daphne wanted more Harry, she was going to have to pay a high price.