Title: Stuck
Rating: M
Warning: Will be M in the future. Please do not read if you are uncomfortable with slavery, sexual scenes/situations, offensive language, violence/rape (flashbacks). This is an M/M story, meaning a homosexual relationship. If you are uncomfortable with that (you're missing out on awesome romance) please do not read! Thanks :)
Disclaimer: These characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, a brilliant mind. I own nothing * sob *

*AN: I attempted to write a fanfic four years ago and failed miserably. I am now trying again so lets view this as my first time. I appreciate any constructive criticism. Even if it's just to tell me I missed a spelling or made a grammatical error. Do let me know! This story is not loyal to the seventh book or the movies! I mean obviously…it's M/M.

Prologue:

Of course they had talked about the end of war. Fantasized about how it would be. What the wizarding world would be like when it was all over, what their lives would be like. Made plans. That had always felt wrong to Ron. He'd hated sitting there in their tent talking about the future. Hated curling up with Hermione only to talk about their future "after the war".

How could they make plans for something so uncertain? How could they lie to themselves like that? But in the end he couldn't help himself. Things were so bleak, they were in so much pain and the days it seemed like they wouldn't survive the war only increased. He'd needed the distraction. He'd needed the happy fantasies. Only problem was he'd started to believe in them.

Ron Weasley was a simple-minded person. He wasn't the smartest of the three or the cleverest. His upbringing had left him easily satisfied. His taste was far from extravagant. That just came from growing up in limited means. He learned long ago that it was useless to long for things so far from your reach. Sure he got jealous. It was hard to have friends who didn't realize just how much they had but for the most part he was happy with what his parents were able to provide for him, for the most part. He had more than enough love in his life to make up for the things he lacked.

Unfortunately, his simple nature had made him gullible. Tell him something, promise it was true and he believed you. A character trait his older brothers abused since his infancy. He was quick to trust. So when Hermione promised they would be together after the war, that they'd get married and live happily ever after he had thought she meant it. He'd believed it would be so.

He wasn't sure if it was the post traumatic stress, the nightmares, the cold sweats, the uncontrollable rage, or the sorrow of loosing his brother that had left him blind to Hermione's changing behavior. She had been there for him through the funeral as much as she could be with her own grief of loosing her parents. They were still alive but to them she had never existed and after the war that reality hit Hermione hard in the heart. She'd pulled away. They fought. He more and more annoyed her. Just being in the same room rubbed her the wrong way until she finally snapped.

She'd taken him out into the garden, behind the Burrow, and told him she couldn't do it anymore. Too much had changed. They hadn't really thought this would work had they? She had laughed as she asked him that. As if the thought was so preposterous now. All Ron could think was, "I had."

As quickly as their romance blossomed it died and before Ron knew it everyone else had picked up and moved on with their lives. They'd found jobs and lovers, had kids and bought homes. Even Harry. They were living again and Ron? Ron was stuck in the dirt of the garden where Hermione had dumped him. Stuck right on the line that separated the past and the future. Unable to move forward or back he was waiting for something or someone to come and pull him free.

Chapter 1

They hadn't told him why he was being summoned when they sent the owl. All Ron had known was that they had been unable to reach his brother George and he was to report to the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible; there he would be provided with all the information he needed. Now he thought he should have known it would be something like this. The gigantic ominous owl and the dark purple scrawl of the Minister himself were only the first clues. When he got there he was met by an elderly ministry official named Mr. Cornwall, who proceeded to do the fawning and fussing that was now the standard treatment of the "Golden Trio".

He was then led to the elevators and down into the dungeons where prisoners waited for their trials. Every time he tried to ask what this visit was about the official dodged the question by saying all would be explained shortly. He had placed Ron at an ornate marble table in the middle of a luxurious room off the main hall. Ron had not been to this part of the Ministry since the trials of the Death Eaters at the end of the war.

"Mr. Weasley? Do you understand what I am telling you? Since your brother cannot be reached you have been selected, due to the events that occurred during the war and your previous relationship to the aforementioned prisoner. If you would be so kind as to sign here as a statement of your consent?" Ron blinked staring down at the wrinkled bony hand that was directing him to a blank line at the bottom of a long contract.

Ron heard him but he felt as though his brain was trying to move through sludge. Of course he knew about the enslavement clause of Azkaban but it was a harsh punishment long forgotten and never used. It was ancient magical history. It had become a thing of legend, of horror stories and a secret shame for the families that had once been a part of it. Nobody had slaves anymore.

Was that true? It had been a long time since he'd left the joke shop. He had been so focused on George the last few months that it was all too possible that he'd completely missed the reincarnation of the Slave Act. Ron couldn't help but wonder if Harry knew that the ministry was doing this. Had they brought it back specifically for war criminals? His father had once told him that muggles had owned slaves in their history but that wizarding slavery has been much worse. Masters not only controlled the slave's body but their magic as well. They could allow their slaves to use it freely, limit it, or strip them of it all together with a simple thought but the slave's magic was permanently tied to their master. They had complete freedom to do what ever they wanted to their slaves. There were no laws to keep owners in check or to protect the slave. He remembered looking at an old book that had pictures of the tortures slaves had been made to endure for the fun of their masters. Just the thought made his skin crawl.

Ron looked over the document Mr. Cornwall had placed in front of him again. At the top in loopy writing it read, "Indentured Servitude papers for one, Draconis Lucius Malfoy."

Malfoy's papers, his freedom; it was a binding magical contract that would connect him to his owner. In it was clause after clause to keep him in line. One in particular would cause his throat to slit if he tried to run away, ventured to far without permission, or attempted to harm his master without the master's consent. They were going to subject Draco Malfoy to this? He could hardly imagine it. The ferret in chains had been a strange enough sight at his trial but a slave? The aristocratic boy and his arrogant manners, he'd never survive. Oh Merlin what do I do? This went against everything he believed in. Ron would not wish wizard slavery or slavery in general on his worst enemy and here he was faced with exactly that. Sure it was the perfect revenge for all the horrible things Malfoy had ever said about his family, for everything Malfoy had done. Malfoy would now be lower than any Weasley ever was but slavery was wrong. Ron wished he'd bothered to contact Harry or Hermione.

Sensing his hesitation the ministry wizard rested his hand on Ron's forearm, "This is a choice Mr. Weasley. There are many, in these times, that are uncomfortable with the idea of slavery or having a slave in their home. If you wish not to accept him that is fine and we shall place him with another more suitable master." The Cornwall wheezed.

Ron looked up startled, "Wha? Wh-who would he go to? May I know?" he asked glancing down again, distractedly flipping through the contract one more time. He'd already read it five times.

"Well of course to another family that was slighted by the Malfoys. We believe it is proper retribution that those harmed by the Malfoys get at least a little compensation through the final remaining Malfoy." Such an outdated way of thinking, to punish the child for the faults of the parent he thought. Ron had grown quite a bit since the end of the war. It's hard to remain a child after going through what they endured and seeing all the things they had seen. It had been at Draco's trial that he truly felt something in him shift. Watching the mere shadow of his childhood rival take the stand and remain silent as he was tried and sentenced.

Much to Ron's surprise he had found it unfair. Draco was his age; he was so young, the youngest death eater to take the mark, a bloody child. They should have let him go on the grounds that he was a juvenile. Much older and darker wizards had been released on worse charges. It hadn't been until much later that he learned Draco had made a deal for his mother's sake she remained free from Azkaban in exchange for his incarceration. The final remaining Malfoy? So Narcissa had passed. She had been unwell at the trials. The end of the war, the execution of her husband and the incarceration of her son had left her extremely fragile. Ron was not at all surprised to hear she had not survived.

But what kind of family would they be? What if they were awful and abused their rights as his owner. Ron was suddenly struck with the image of the Draco from their sixth year, thin and stressed lying broken and bloody on the floor. Abused in everyway. His stomach churned. Wouldn't that be my fault? He'd have had the chance to prevent it. The chance was right now. What could he do? There were ways around this. There had to be. He could find loopholes with Hermione's help and provide Malfoy with the most normal life he could possibly grasp given the circumstance, and his conscience would be clear.

"I'll do it" He choked.

"Excellent! Simply sign on the indicated lines and we will fetch him for the naming ceremony. It's not nearly as flashy as it sounds." Cornwall said handing over a large green quill.

"The naming ceremony?" Ron asked.

"Yes a slave does not keep their former identity unless the owner wants them too." Cornwall motioned to two Aurors that had been present at the meeting. They left the room. "Once the binding process is complete he is no longer "Draco Malfoy" but your slave to be called what ever you wish him to be called. It's quite simply, he will kneel before you, you will place the collar around his neck and when they ask you for his name say what ever it is you wish him to be called by others. Anything at all."

"Oh" Ron said clearing his throat. His hand shook as he took up the quill. There was no ink. He would be signing in blood. " Don't worry if you wish to change it later you can, as well as the collar. This," he pulled out a black metal band, "is simply standard issue. Now just sign here and here and he's all yours."

Signing that contract was a moment he would never forget. The sting of the quill drawing his blood magically to its tip, the way his W was slightly smudged by the quake in his fingers, the feel of Cornwall sliding the contract from beneath his hand when he was finished. Cornwall stood and gathered up the contract. "Now I will say my goodbyes, the guards will take it from here my boy. The ministry wishes you the best and hopes that this small token will remind you of what we have done for you. We thank you for your services rendered to your country." With a flourishing bow the contract and official were gone.

Ron waited. What have I done? Small Token? Is that what the ministry considers one life? A small token. His thoughts were interrupted by the return of the guards leading in the Malfoy Heir. Or what was left of him. They thrust him forward and onto his knees. Heavy chains bound his ankles and wrists; his blond hair was unkempt, matted, and dull. It was longer than it had been at the trial and fell in his face. He was skinnier then he had ever seen him. His bones jutted out of his skin, his cheeks were hallowed and there were bruises scattered all over his body disappearing under the ragged robes he wore. He looked as if he had been roughened up regularly. However, much to Ron's relief, his signature sneer was still in place.

He said nothing as the guards forced his head up too look at Ron. It was necessary that the slave lock eyes with their owner as they were collared. Ron clenched his jaw and steeled himself for what was to come. He would not let Malfoy see just how uncomfortable he was with all of this. The head guard picked the thin black metal band and handed it to him. Taking the collar in hand Ron approached stopping just close enough, "be sure to say your full name. Just repeat after me eh?" The larger of the guards said in a gruff voice. Ron did as he was told.

"I, Ronald Billius Weasley, take you as my slave, signified by this collar. I name you Dray," he coughed "Draco Lucius Malfoy." He snapped the collar and felt it seal. Malfoy would have felt it too. It felt like a build up of electricity, as if a lightning bolt was about to crack through the room. His hair stood on end and a rushing sensation hit him square in the chest, the connection of their magic. Malfoy swayed ever so slightly on his knees. Probably under the weight of the restrictions now placed on him. If it hurt him he showed no signs. His face remained his ever-impassive mask.

"There it's done. 'E's all yours you can take 'im 'ome" The guard said and the chains fell away from Malfoy disappearing. Ron stood there unsure what to do. He was in shock. Slowly Malfoy's sneer returned. Steele grey stuck on sky blue.

"Well? Now what, Master?" Malfoy drawled.

*** I promise not to abandon this story! But I do have a life so updates may be slow (I'm not talking like five months slow). Have no fear I know how it feels when a story goes un-updated. Talk about painful. It's like every time I favorite a story the author decides never to finish it T_T. Hope you guys like it!