Notes: Just an update: This fic was written for a prompt (which is the summary) for a group called hp_owned. It's written for fun and really nothing too serious is being taken here. I am sorry to have offended you (or anyone). Thanks! - DIGs

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Preoccupied With Loving

PART ONE

It had been five months, two weeks, and four days since Harry's last testimony at the trials.

He had finished that life and was now living in Muggle London to avoid all magical and wizarding world associations. He still loved magic and used it—but he'd left the Ministry and its politics behind. He was tired and now it was his turn to be something different than The Prophecy.

He decided that it was time for Harry to discover who he really was.

It hadn't taken a long time for him to come to the first step of that discovery. The incident occurred a week prior at a Muggle club, when Harry discovered that what he felt, how he had felt for a very long time actually had some sort of meaning. He'd always suspected of himself to be a bit different, he wasn't surprised to find out that his sexual orientation would also not be—so normal. It was more than fancying a bloke in school; it took one kiss from a random stranger and sucking the cock of another one to confirm that he, in fact, was gay without a hint of bisexuality.

Harry had no desire to establish a Floo network in his home. He was being cautious thinking if he ever had a Muggle bloke over, how would he explain it? Additionally, he didn't want to keep in touch with anyone outside his closest friends and the Weasley family. He decided upon owls as the best form of communication.

After the defeat of Voldemort, something had happened to him. Something he didn't even want to admit to himself. And so he didn't tell anyone, figuring that, like most things, it too would come out on its own accord. So, he did what he thought was best. He shut himself out.

Harry was boiling water for his tea on the stove when the telephone rang. As only three people knew his number and only one of them was comfortable enough to actually call, he was sure it was Hermione.

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry answered the phone without hesitation as to who it could be on the other end.

"Harry, glad you're home. Listen, do you have a minute to talk? I could Apparate to your flat in a few moments," Hermione said.

"Alright, sure," Harry answered. He was sure that Hermione would be insisting upon his appearance at a charity function of sorts and Harry would have to turn her down again.

Five minutes later, there was a knock on his door. Harry opened it and Hermione, still bushy haired, but with trimmed eyebrows with a hint of makeup, stood in front of him. She wore wizarding robes and Harry wondered what event she would be attending that night.

Hermione's visit wasn't a friendly visit, Harry was right. She was there on business. After Harry had testified for the Malfoys, he'd managed to obtain Lucius a lighter sentence in Azkaban than the one that was originally projected. Furthermore, he was able to free Narcissa and Draco Malfoy completely. Now—months later—Hermione was at Harry's doorstep opening up an already closed chapter in his life.

"Harry, I am afraid I've got some news about the Malfoys, and I need your help!" Hermione seemed livid.

"What kind of news?" Harry asked calmly.

"Even though Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were freed from any repercussions due to Lucius' actions, some Death Eaters that were captured testified that Narcissa wasn't as innocent as you had portrayed her to be, so now she's being reprimanded for her actions!" Hermione said, outraged.

"What kind of reprimand?"

"All the remaining Death Eaters who didn't go to Azkaban are still considered guilty of crimes against the Ministry. The Ministry has spent over five months deliberating over what to do with these wizards. They've finally come to the decision and have decided to sell them off as slaves! Slaves, Harry! I just found out about it earlier today and I'm on my way right now to the Ministry to campaign against this horrific idea. You have to come with me; you have to save Malfoy and others!" Hermione was pacing around in Harry's sitting room as Harry simply stared at her in shock.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked. "I thought you said Narcissa Malfoy was the one convicted?" Harry didn't understand. He took a seat on his sofa as he felt his legs were about to give out.

"She was and Malfoy was proven to be innocent after your testimony, but he's offered himself up in place of Narcissa to be sold off as a slave. It's not just Malfoy, Harry. We have to do something!"

"I don't know, Hermione. I told you I had washed my hands of the Ministry and I meant it. I can't tell them what to do." Harry was resolute in not involving himself in Ministry affairs.

"You can't possibly be serious, Harry," Hermione said, raising her arms up above her head as though she was struggling with not punching something. "You know that the Ministry isn't going to take the right precautions. People—humans—are being sold as slaves, Harry; doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Harry didn't respond for a few moments. He felt conflicted. He knew Hermione was right, but he had already walked away from the wizarding world—turned his back on the Ministry. What was he expected to do? Show up and be an all-powerful Harry Potter and stop the show? Set a few tables on fire? Choke a few people by the wave of his wand? How would that make him any different than Voldemort?

"Just come to the hearing tonight; it's an auction. Just attend with me and voice your opinion that what they're doing is completely wrong!" Hermione urged him vehemently.

Harry nodded apathetically. "Fine, I will try to make it." That was all he could promise: he would try.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said softly.

"Why haven't you asked for Ron's help? What does Arthur think about all of this?" Harry asked.

"Ron is still broken," Hermione said. "He won't come to the aid of those who are responsible for all the damage that has been caused to his family. Arthur is against this practise, but he's only one person. That is why we need more help, Harry!"

Hermione's enthusiasm was borderline annoying. Harry nodded again just to somewhat satisfy her need to know that he was still listening.

"I'll see what I can do," Harry said. "But I can't promise anything. I don't even know if I can make it to the Ministry. I've just been through–" He didn't say anything after that. Hermione nodded. She left shortly after looking defeated. She knew he wasn't going to be attending, despite his assurance that he'd try.

•⁰•

At nine o'clock, the time when the hearing was set at the Ministry, Harry sat at a Muggle dance club sipping on an Old Fashioned. He looked at his watch and saw that it was nearly time to leave if he wished to attend the Death Eater auction. At that moment Harry was approached by a man. He was about Harry's height with strawberry blond hair and dark blue eyes. He bought Harry another drink and took him to the back room of the club where he managed to get on his knees quicker than Harry could ask for his name. He later discovered it was Leonardo.

He never thought about the Ministry after that. Hermione never brought it up either. He figured that she knew by now that discussing any Ministry affair would be a waste of time.

•⁰•

Harry had been seeing Leonardo on and off for five weeks, but there had never been any discussion of commitment. Harry knew fairly well that the nights he stayed home or didn't go out with Leonardo, the man would be out with someone else. That was all right with Harry. He liked Leonardo, but knew that something was missing from their relationship. Harry didn't wish to discuss it because it wasn't worth bringing up. So, he didn't feel bad when instead of spending the night at Leonardo's place and then having brunch in his bed, he had opted to help Hermione shop for Ron's birthday.

Ron's birthday was over a month away, but Hermione was determined to buy him a great present. Ever since the loss of his brother, Ron had never been the same. He was getting back to his old self, but Harry and Hermione knew that full recovery was a long way away.

When they arrived at Diagon Alley, the first shop they visited was Jasminka's Unique Gifts. Harry had purchased a present for Ginny once from Jasminka's shop. They broke up a week later.

While Hermione looked around in the back, Harry spotted an old woman that looked familiar, but he couldn't place her name. A young woman in her twenties was following her around. Harry thought that the young woman looked familiar as well. She had a small bruise on her neck and her wrists looked like they suffered an injury as well. Eventually Harry realised that she was Gibbon's daughter. Gibbon had died on the Astronomy Tower in 1997 and his daughter had never renounced the fact that her father was wrong.

Hermione must have noticed Harry looking at Gibbon's daughter. She seized the opportunity to tell him what happened to her. When the Death Eaters and their associates were interrogated Gibbon's daughter showed favouritism towards the Death Eaters, she was ultimately sold as a slave.

Hermione continued informing Harry all about the slavery that the Death Eater associates endured. Many of the relatives of the Death Eaters who might have been innocent were also sold as slaves because no one spoke up to defend them. Hermione didn't know them all and was later silenced because she was told that she could not alone argue for all the individuals involved as she didn't know all of them. As Hermione spoke the anger inside Harry escalated. Soon after, the glass windows of the shop exploded and shattered windowpanes lay all over the floor.

Everyone was bewildered by the incident and Harry and Hermione left. Harry didn't want to attract any more attention to himself.

Later that evening, Harry still couldn't get the thought of innocents being sold as slaves out of his head. At dinner he asked Hermione's help.

"Can we get a list of individuals who are sold off as slaves?" Harry asked as he stared at his plate of food but was unable to eat anything. "I think I want to investigate their condition."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Why do you care now?"

Harry didn't answer. He felt guilty, ashamed. He was filled with so many emotions that he didn't dare name them all, afraid that if he tried to express himself again his magic would overreact.

A week passed. Harry visited several wizards and Ministry associates to discuss the nature of the slavery issues and discovered who was sold to whom and how the wizards were treating their slaves. It seemed as though most Death Eaters had accepted the punishment and all slave owners had signed the contract for three years. Some slaves were treated quite well as they provided companionships to older wizards. Many–almost all–had their magic bound.

One of the worst cases that Harry had discovered was of Draco Malfoy. He was owned by a Muggleborn wizard who was in his forties and the fact that he abused Malfoy was clearly present on his body. Harry also discovered that there were several times that Malfoy had been admitted to St Mungo's. His owner, Caesar Mercano, had claimed that he was sloppy and continuously fell down the steps, once even collapsing as he stepped out of the tub.

Harry knew Malfoy. He was anything but sloppy. Harry was enraged that the staff at St Mungo's didn't do anything to protect their patient's well-being. Death Eater or no Death Eater, they had taken an oath as Healers that obligated them to protect all individuals.

Parvati, one of the Healers at St Mungo's, told Harry that she suspected abuse but Malfoy never spoke up against his master, nor did he ever indicate any denial of his master's claims about his injuries.

When Harry returned to St Mungo's the next day to talk more with the Healers, he was informed that Malfoy was in fact in the hospital again. When Malfoy's master left the room, Harry snuck in and tried to talk with him. He didn't say a word. Harry felt the magic in the room—magic he hadn't conjured. He realised that Malfoy was under a spell. It was probably cast by his master who was binding Malfoy's magic and perhaps his ability to speak ill of the master. Harry knew about this spell, it was Dark Magic and caused Malfoy a lot of pain if he defied his master's wishes.

Malfoy still had his signature blond hair but it looked messy and dirty. If it weren't for his piercing eyes looking directly at Harry with the kind of disdain he was used to, he almost wouldn't have recognised him.

Harry tried to reach out to Malfoy and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Does it hurt?" Harry asked, and Malfoy looked at him with a questioning eye. "When you say something bad about him?" Harry added.

Malfoy didn't respond.

"Just nod," Harry said and Malfoy nodded reluctantly as though he was acknowledging what Harry had said but was too afraid to really admit it.

•⁰•

Harry left the hospital feeling defeated and reckoned that he'd have to take matters in his own hands to get more information.

After uncovering Caesar's address, Harry decided to Apparate there at night under his Invisibility Cloak to determine the situation. The Muggleborn wizard lived in a secluded house in the middle of a forest. He owned the surrounding land and made his house far away from civilisation as possible. The house itself was almost all glass so it wasn't a problem for Harry to look in and watch the master and his slave.

Harry stood outside the sitting room window and waited, unsure of what to expect.

When Harry had seen Malfoy at the hospital, he seemed to be wearing black trousers and a button downed shirt that were a few sizes too big. He was immediately reminded of himself as he had often worn Dudley's hand me down and the clothes were always way too big. At the wizard's house, Malfoy was dressed in little to no clothing. He had no shirt on and his pale white sickly body was easy to recognise. Instead of trousers, he wore what looked like a rag.

Is this how Draco lives? Harry thought.

His hands were tied as he carried a plate of food and placed it in front of his master. He picked up the soup spoon and was feeding his master. Harry crouched down to his knees to get a better view. He wanted to see the look on Malfoy's face. Draco looked as though he was almost under a spell, but Harry wasn't sure.

Disgusted by the site, Harry thought to himself. Does the Ministry know this is what is happening to the slaves?

After feeding his master as Malfoy stood up Caesar stopped him from walking away and said something. Harry couldn't hear what was being said but a moment later he watched Malfoy separate his legs. Shortly after Caesar placed his hand on Malfoy's balls and started to massage them. Malfoy closed his eyes and looked miserable. His face emitted a type of expression that indicated that this was the worst thing he had ever experienced. The face didn't even compare to the misery that was displayed on Malfoy's face when he had to kill Dumbledore.

That moment Harry also realised how dirty Malfoy's face really was. A tear trickled down and cleared off the dirt revealing the true paleness. Harry's heart sank. He felt as though his insides were on fire. He couldn't bear to watch anymore but he didn't look away. If he were going to reveal the monstrosity of the treatment, he needed to be a true witness.

Harry whispered an incantation so he could hear the conversation being taken place in front of him.

"Do you like it when your master does that, my slave?" Caesar asked.

Malfoy's voice quivered as he kept his eyes closed. "Yes, Master."

"Think of how lucky you are that I won the bid on you, my pet," Caesar spoke again and Harry felt the tremble that went through Malfoy's body. "It could have been your mother, would you have liked that?" the man teased. Harry was further repulsed.

Malfoy's eyes shot open and he dropped the tray he was carrying. "No!" Malfoy nearly screamed.

"I told you not to raise your voice with me!" Caesar roared back. He pushed Malfoy against the wall and slapped him once on his face. Harry watched in horror. Caesar turned Malfoy around and lifted up the rag that he was wearing, revealing his bare arse.

For one moment, Harry was conflicted. He was outraged by the treatment he was witnessing and another moment he felt jealousy. He wished he could do that—to Malfoy.

"No…" Harry heard Malfoy whisper. He woke up from his perverted fantasy, now the fire burning inside him was ready to erupt. Again the windows in the entire house shattered and collapsed. It was the same reaction Harry had had at the gift shop in Diagon Alley.

Caesar shrieked when a glass flew to him and pierced him on his right hip. He pushed Malfoy out of the way and went to investigate the strange phenomenon. He walked up to the window where Harry stood and stared right at him. He couldn't see Harry as he was under the Invisibility Cloak and Harry stared back. He was looking into the face of a monster.

Caesar turned around and shouted at Malfoy. He blamed Malfoy for causing the damage to his house.

"How could I do this? I don't have any magic," Malfoy replied.

"I don't care. I know you did this, I know you're responsible. You're a worthless piece of trash and you belong where trash belongs, outside the house! I demand you to sleep outside the house and if you live, I'll let you back in tomorrow!" Caesar lifted his wand, fixed the broken glass and placed everything back in its place. He then grabbed Malfoy and pushed him outside the door. Malfoy walked around the corner and lay down on the porch trying to find one spot that wasn't covered with snow. He eventually closed his eyes.

Harry slowly walked up to him and whispered another incantation. Harry didn't need his wand, and he'd left it at home. He performed wandless magic and placed two Charms on Malfoy, one to keep him warm through the night and another to protect him from his master. If Caesar attacked him again, or hit him—Harry ensured that Malfoy wouldn't feel any pain even if he bruised to indicate otherwise.

At that moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to place a kiss on Malfoy's forehead before leaving but he feared revealing himself. He had been so foolish, he could have stopped this, and he could have protected so many people. He could have protected Draco.

•⁰•

The next morning, Harry visited the Ministry of Magic and demanded to speak to the Minister. He informed the Minister of the conditions he'd discovered regarding the slaves and the Minister dismissed Harry's concerns.

"We cannot do anything with a third party report, Mr Potter," the new Minister of Magic, Jonas Spencer, said. "If you can bring me purchased slaves who are willing to testify of such abuse then perhaps a department to investigate these allegations can be created."

"A department to-–" Harry stopped mid-sentence. "Do you even hear yourself, Minister? How can these people say anything when they are being abused every day and being forced to love this abuse?"

The Minister didn't answer. A clock in the corner of the room fell on the floor spontaneously. Harry reminded himself to calm down.

"Okay, then I would like to know the process for an individual to purchase an already bought slave if they are in danger from their current master." Harry asked. If he couldn't get Caesar to stop his abuse on Draco, perhaps he could buy Draco off him. It was a step in the right direction. If worse came to worst, he'd buy every single slave that was sold by the Ministry.

"Ah! There I may be able to help you," said Jonas Spencer. The Minister lifted his wand and summoned a piece of parchment that shined brightly with the words "Slave Ownership Contract." He turned towards Harry and handed him the parchment. "If you wish to buy a slave from his or her owner you must have the original master sign off on the contract. Whatever your exchange will be for the ownership of the slave, monetary or otherwise is completely up to you. As long as both parties sign the contract there—" he pointed at a line on the parchment, "—the transaction is valid."

Harry looked at the parchment and nodded. He didn't think he could feel any more revolted by the Ministry, but he was wrong. Every new Minister it seemed had a twisted way of running the regime; it was no wonder that Shacklebolt had refused to run for the position.

"Get it signed and it is yours," Spencer said.

"It, sir?" Harry asked.

"The slave. They are like having an owl, a dog or a cat. They are your property and you are allowed to do whatever you please to them."

Harry couldn't hear anymore. Regardless of the fact that many of the subjects rooted for the Dark side, they were still human. Harry glared at the Minister. Arguing with him wouldn't do Harry any good. He was wasting precious time. He had to go and rescue Draco!

"Is there something you wanted to say, Mr Potter?" Jonas Spencer asked. He looked at a file at his desk and opened it. It was as though whatever Harry thought, whatever Harry wished to say, he wouldn't care for it. Harry blinked and the file the Minister held burst into flames. "Oh!" the Minister shouted as he let go of the file and put out the fire with the swish of his wand.

"No, sir. Thanks for your time," Harry replied and nodded as he began to make his way out of Spencer's office.

•⁰•

Harry met up with Hermione for lunch and discussed the course of his morning at the Minister's office with her.

"The new Minister is utter rubbish," Harry expressed. "The Ministry had promised me that whenever I needed a favour they would provide me with it and this morning the Minister completely refused to help me save Draco."

"They consider slave ownership a private matter. After a slave is sold they no longer wish to take responsibility for the individuals—it is the master's problem," Hermione answered.

"I know, he told me that slaves were like having a dog! I can't believe it. I know that they are Death Eaters or supporters of Voldemort, but they're still human!" Harry paused for a moment. "You should have seen his face when I set his file on fire."

"Harry, you didn't!" Hermione exclaimed with a hint of a glimmer in her eyes. "How did you explain yourself?"

"I didn't, I just left. I don't think he realised it was me," Harry answered. "I think the next time I go in for a favour; I am going to get my way. That Spencer is all talk but he can be persuaded with a twist of an arm."

"Just be careful, Harry. We don't know the extent of your new powers; we don't want the news getting to the wrong ears," Hermione added her word of caution.

"I know, I will. Now, I've got to go speak to Caesar Mercano about transferring Draco's ownership to me," Harry answered.

"I can't believe what you told me," said Hermione. "He is a Muggleborn. I can't believe he's so—inhumane!" Harry could easily tell how that nauseated Hermione as well. "This goes to show you that the Dark side isn't just in one group of people. I can't believe a Muggleborn is treating wizards in such a disgusting manner."

"We all have a light side and a dark side, how you choose to relinquish your power is totally up to you," Harry said, he smiled at the similarity of his words to his late godfather's.

Hermione nodded before she spoke again. "After you get Malfoy, you should consider having Malfoy testify against Mercano."

•⁰•

Under the Invisibility Cloak, Harry arrived at the Mercano residence again. He looked through the repaired windowpanes and saw Caesar sitting on his sofa reading a magazine while Draco massaged the man's legs. After a few short moments, the man kicked Draco for what looked like no apparent reason and Draco fell on the ground, and the man got up and kicked him again. A small window shattered again and both Caesar and Draco looked up towards it. Harry walked around the house to the main door, removed his Cloak and knocked.

Draco answered the door and his eyes widened when he saw Harry. "Potter?" he whispered.

"Who is it?" Caesar asked as he approached the door and pushed Draco aside. "Harry Potter? What do you want?" the man's voice was impolite, and Harry saw him glare at Draco as though he knew that Draco was the reason Harry was there.

"I am here on a business matter, Mr Mercano. May I come in?" Harry asked. The man nodded and grabbed Draco's arm, pulling him next to his own body as though he was protecting his property.

"I have just been to the Ministry of Magic, and I obtained a contract form which I would like to offer you in order to transfer ownership of your current—of Draco—to me. I am willing to pay double the price or more for which you purchased him for." Harry's voice was resolute. He didn't sit nor did he look at Draco. He looked directly at the man who he was making a deal with. Harry didn't want him to think that he might be emotionally tied to Draco.

Caesar laughed. "That is not going to happen."

"And why not?"

"Well my Draco provides me with a lot of benefits that I rather enjoy. I bought him fair and square at the slave auction and the Ministry has respected my contract. I rather enjoy his tight arse and he is quite resilient, providing me with the kind of release I require." Caesar's laughter was rancorous, soaked with malevolence.

Harry felt sick. He couldn't believe a person could ever talk about someone else in that manner. He raped Draco almost every night and was boasting about it. "I am afraid I must insist." Harry didn't turn to look at Draco but he could feel Draco's eyes on him. He wanted to give anything to turn and look at him, assure him that he was going to be safe, but he needed to be resolute. One step at a time, he told himself.

"I don't care who you are, Potter," Caesar said. "I've told you already. I am not transferring my ownership of my filthy slave to you."

"He is not filthy!" Harry raised his voice; a picture that was hanging on top of the fireplace collapsed on the ground.

Caesar laughed again. Harry hated his laugh. "He's my toy, my property, I can call him whatever I desire. I can do whatever I want to him." He pulled on Draco and wrapped his arm around Draco's waist. "You can watch if you wish. I am sure he'll put on a good show for you." Harry finally looked at Draco who was frightened.

Harry removed his wand from his robe and watched Caesar let go of Draco to remove his own. Harry whispered "Expelliarmus," and Caesar's wand came flying into Harry's hand. The man didn't even have a chance to think twice about what had happened.

"Draco, come behind me," Harry said softly.

"No, don't you dare you—"

"Sit!" Harry pointed his wand towards Caesar who was pushed back into the sofa. "I am done negotiating with you." Harry removed a small pouch of Galleons from his pocket as he continued to point his wand at Caesar. He threw the pouch on the coffee table between them. "This is double the price of what you paid to purchase Draco. I hereby declare him to be mine. Now, you will sign the contract, and we will be on our way."

When Draco drew closer to Harry, Harry turned and gave Caesar's wand to Draco. "Unbind the collar on your ankles and the one around your neck."

"It won't work, my magic is—"

"It'll work, just do it." Harry turned to look at Draco for a moment as he spoke, and Caesar stood up and tried to attack Harry. Harry raised his wand again and held him against the wall. He turned to look at Draco again, knowing that Caesar was secure against the wall. Draco successfully released himself from the metallic bands that held him captive. He looked at Harry and smiled. It was an odd smile, as though Draco wasn't sure he should smile.

Harry walked up to Caesar and held out the contract. "Now, you will sign it."

"I will never sign it," Caesar retorted.

Harry blinked and the chandelier that hung perfectly on the roof came crashing down on the floor. Draco shrieked. Harry didn't remove his gaze from Caesar, but he recognised that even the slightest noise would set Draco off. For nearly two months, he had been abused and raped, leaving him extremely traumatised. Harry felt a sudden urge to run and protect Draco.

The feeling of sorrow must have reflected in his eyes, because at that moment Caesar laughed. Harry lifted his wand-free left hand and all the photos and paintings on the mantel came crashing down. The fire in the fireplace roared crimson.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it!" Caesar exclaimed. "But it's not going to do you any good. You'll be dead in a month."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. His voice was still stern, figuring Caesar was going to fabricate some story. But it didn't hurt to hear the man out.

"When I bought him," Caesar said nearly spitting out his words. "I performed a ritual. He's bound to his master in a special way. He's required to satisfy his master sexually or he'll die. You'll both die."

"That's ridiculous."

"It's the truth," Caesar said. He finally signed his name on the contract while he he half-hung off the wall. "He's a tough little fucker. I needed to make sure he didn't just run and hide from me." In the beginning, he used to lock himself up for days in the cellar, but eventually he would feel weak and have to come out for food. When he'd give me what I needed he was strong again."

"That's revolting," Harry mustered up. He was in shock at Caesar's words and fresh out of insults. For a brief second, the thought of being satisfied by Draco turned Harry on—it sounded incredible—but not this way. "I am sure I can find a way around your spell. You have already seen what I can do when I don't even have to think about it; I'm sure if I actually give it some thought, I'll free him of your perverse magic as well."

Harry swished his wand and the man flew from the wall to the sofa. With another flick of his wand, Harry removed the man's tie and Transfigured it into a rope. The ropes wrapped themselves tightly around Caesar. "The rope will come undone in five hours. I've also placed a Silencing Charm around your property, so no one will be able to hear you. You have five hours to think about what a shame you are to Muggles and Muggleborns."

Harry turned to Draco and asked, "Draco, do you wish to keep his wand?" Draco shook his head. "Then break it." Draco broke Caesar's wand in two and threw it in the fire. Harry removed his cloak and wrapped it around Draco since he barely had any clothes on. He turned Draco to face him and spoke again, "I am your master now, do you understand?" Draco nodded. Harry placed his hands on Draco's shoulders and Disapparated them to Harry's flat.

•⁰•

When Harry and Draco arrived, Draco still seemed quite frightened. Harry realised that Draco was looking for places to hide. Harry's heart sank again. He couldn't even imagine what Draco must have been through.

"I will show you to your room."

Draco followed Harry obediently up the stairs to the second floor. "I will have my own room?" he hesitantly asked Harry.

"If you so wish," Harry answered. Draco didn't respond and entered the room that Harry showed him, following him in. "You can stay here. Change around the room however you wish. The bathroom is just down the hall; I only have one so we'll be sharing it. Taking turns, I mean." Harry paused. Draco had been quiet, too quiet. "Will you say something?"

"You didn't have to save me, Potter."

Of course. Harry shook his head. "I will make something to eat," Harry said. "You can stay here if you wish, or you can come join me in the kitchen."

"I'll stay," Draco answered. "If that's alright with you, Master." Draco's voice was a mix of fear and contempt. Harry was sure that fear came from the fact that Harry was his master and Caesar had grilled enough fear in him to last a lifetime, not to mention having served Voldemort to begin with and his contempt was quite obvious. This was Malfoy and he was Potter.

Harry was sure that this would continue for a while.

"Okay, rest well." Harry walked out of Draco's room and closed the door behind him. He immediately heard Draco lock the door.

Harry entered his own room and changed clothes. He then went into the kitchen and made himself and Draco a small meal. Harry ate alone in the kitchen, waiting for Draco who never came. He eventually took the food and placed it outside Draco's room. After returning to his room, Harry decided to stay there. He eventually heard movement. Draco opened his door first to gather the dishes and take the food inside his room and then later as he placed the empty plates outside his door. Before turning in for the night, Harry picked up the empty dishes and washed them, hoping that Draco would make an appearance in the kitchen.

Draco remained hidden in his room.

In the middle of the night, Harry heard screams. Draco was screaming. Harry jumped out of his bed and went to Draco's room. The door was still locked and Harry didn't wish to open it. He stayed outside Draco's room calling out to him. Eventually the screams stopped and Harry supposed the worst had passed. He returned to his bed and fell asleep.

The next morning Draco's room remained locked, so Harry placed a tray of breakfast in front of it. He then left his flat, heightening the wards so no one could enter it or leave, including his friends.

Harry needed to make sure that Draco was safe.

Harry went to see Hermione to discuss his situation, wanting to know if the master/slave curse Caesar had talked about was real and if there was a way to break it. Hermione didn't have any answers, and Harry was yet again feeling defeated.

When Harry returned to his flat, he saw the breakfast plates were empty and washed. Draco was again hiding in his room when Harry had arrived. After entering the bathroom, Harry noticed that Draco had taken a bath—he immediately remembered that Draco didn't have any clothes.

How could I have been so careless?

The idea of giving his own clothes to Draco disturbed Harry. It would be treating Draco like a slave. But, Harry had no choice. He wouldn't be able to buy Draco new clothes until the next day, anyway. Harry rushed to his room, sought out freshly laundered clothes and picked out a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. He returned to Draco's room and left the clothes with a clean towel outside the door. He began to walk away, but he wanted to see Draco, talk to him. For some odd reason he longed for him so Harry knocked on the door.

Draco opened the door wearing the same garb he had been rescued in.

"I—uh—here's some clothes and a clean towel," Harry flustered.

"Thank you," Draco replied politely.

"Are you hungry?" Harry asked. He realised that Draco probably hadn't eaten since breakfast. Draco shrugged.

"Do you require for me to make dinner, Master?" Draco asked, his voice still scornful.

"No, not tonight anyway," Harry replied, smiling, but Draco didn't flinch. "Why don't you change and meet me in the kitchen in a few minutes?"

"As the master wishes," Draco replied. Before Harry could say anything else, Draco closed the door.

Don't treat me like your master, Harry had wanted to say, but managed to only utter the words in his mind.

Draco arrived in the kitchen ten minutes later and Harry realised that the clothes he'd worn weren't the right fit. Given that Draco was taller than Harry, the bottoms reached an inch above Draco's ankles, and the shirt seemed too short and too wide. There's a sight to make you feel like a short and fat bloke, Harry thought.

"I hope you're okay with chicken stew," Harry said.

"Whatever the master feels best," Draco replied.

"You don't have to keep referencing me as your master, Draco," Harry said, placing the plate of food in front of Draco. Draco nodded.

They ate in silence; however, any time Draco spoke he'd address Harry as the master. Ultimately, Harry lost his temper. "Draco! How many times do I have to repeat myself? Stop. Calling. Me. That."

Draco whimpered, he retreated back a few steps, fear displayed all over his grey eyes.

"I am sorry, I am sorry," Draco whispered, his voice quivering. "I—it's just habit—"

"I know," Harry spoke softly. "I didn't mean to snap at you. Please forgive me." Draco nodded. "If you wish, you are more than welcome to return to your room. I can clean up." Draco nodded again and began to take his leave.

"Draco," Harry called out as he turned, "do you want to go shopping tomorrow? I mean, you don't have any proper clothes and mine don't exactly fit you right—" Harry didn't mean to stare but the t-shirt was a bit too small and Draco's midriff displayed itself in between where the shirt ended and the trousers began. He didn't mean to stare but Harry found the sight arousing and immediately knew that he'd blushed. He looked away embarrassed. He was ashamed for lusting after Draco after what Draco had been through with Caesar.

"I prefer to stay here," Draco said. He was about to place his empty dishes in the sink when Harry grabbed them, their hands lightly brush and Draco retreated right away again. "But, if you wish for me to accompany you, I will oblige your wishes."

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. Do you prefer Muggle clothing or Wizarding robes?" Harry asked.

"Whatever the master desires," Draco said. He looked up nervously; Harry was sure it was an instinctual reaction and not something said on purpose. He hoped. With Malfoy, it was hard to tell. He could always be taunting Harry.

Harry sighed nonetheless. "Alright, you may leave."

After Draco returned to his room, Harry summoned a parchment and quill and wrote a letter to Narcissa Malfoy.

Dear Mrs Malfoy,

I am writing to you to inform you that I, Harry Potter, have bought the slave contract of Draco Malfoy from Caesar Mercano. Draco is now my supposed 'slave' for the rest of the three years contract. He is to stay with me in my flat in London. I am not sure if you are aware of the conditions in which he was being kept, but I ensure you now that he is perfectly safe. I believe that he's suffered a great deal of emotional and physical abuse and that perhaps seeing a familiar face would cheer him up. I am happily extending an invitation to arrive at my home in four days' time to visit him. I will keep this information from him and hope that a surprise visit will do him good. I look forward to hearing from you about your attendance at our home on Friday, 29th of January, 1999.

Sincerely,
Harry James Potter.

After writing the letter to Narcissa, Harry wrote a quick note to Hermione asking her to meet him at Diagon Alley at ten-thirty in the morning. He needed her help. He released his owl, Laxmira, from her cage, and gave her a treat along with the two letters.

•⁰•

TBC

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