Harry Potter 1. Out of Azkaban

Disclaimer: This is a D/s fic, with spanking and later m/m sexual scenes of an explicit nature. If you are not comfortable with that, please do not read this fic. Thanks!

Draco scrambled backwards as the light from the corridor filtrated into his cell. He covered his eyes with his palm to avoid the burn and huddled in the corner, praying the Dementor would decide to pass on. His breath caught as he waited for the familiar feelings of coldness and desolation to wash over him and he let out a small whimper of dread. When the emotions didn't take over, he peered between his slightly parted fingers.

He discovered, shocked, that the presence in his cell was not a Dementor but a man. Squinting through the pain in his dazed eyes, he could make out a silver Auror's badge, a pair of dark round spectacles and a black, jagged lightning scar. Draco groaned inwardly, Potter, then. It _would be_ Potter, obviously come to gloat now that his position allowed it

"Malfoy?" His voice was gentler than Draco would ever have expected, very gentle and soft in comparison to the harsh tone of the wardens and the shrill screams of the inmates. Draco scooted further into the corner, embarrassed by the condition of his hair, robes and the filth that clung to his alabaster skin, turning it grey.

"Malfoy?" Harry repeated a little more firmly, watching as Draco moved back away from him, surprised by how much pity he felt for his former rival, "Come here."

He watched as Draco tried to organize his dishevelled robes, flicking his overgrown hair forward to hide his embarrassment. Harry knew that he would be obeyed; the Azkaban guards trained their prisoners to listen to visiting Aurors, and officials who came to gawk. If they received one complaint, Dementers would assault the prisoner mercilessly outside their door day and night for a week. He waited as Draco scrambled to his feet and wandered slowly over, eyes never leaving the floor.

Harry delivered his planned speech in a rush, "In the last week, four former death eaters - your father included - have escaped from Azkaban. We do not yet know the cause of the security breach, but until such time as it can be determined, all high-risk prisoners are being moved out of Azkaban and being turned over individual Aurors for guarding. While the investigation is being is being launched, the Auror will observe prisoner and it will be determined whether they have reformed and can enter society or must return to Azkaban."

Draco bit his lip. He was no longer sure how long he'd even been in Azkaban, the days blending together hopelessly. His whole body shook with relief at the prospect of getting out of the prison, but being babysat by an Auror didn't sound pleasant either, "Who is watching me?" He asked nervously.

Harry sighed, "I am." He watched as what little colour there was in Draco's face drained, "The ministry thought it would be best … you know, so that I could compare how you are now to how you were before."

Draco studied his hands miserably. There was no way he would ever get out of Azkaban now and Potter would probably torture him for good measure, probably making him even more desolate that he was in the prison, where the Dementors at least left him along for the most part because he behaved well. Potter was sure to seek revenge … for their school days and his beloved Dumbledore's death.

Harry took out his wand and conjured a pair of magically binding silver cuffs, "Wrists." He instructed firmly. Draco swallowed hard and complied.

Harry led Draco out of the prison, watching his reactions carefully. He gave Malfoy a moment to pause at the entrance and get used to the outside light before leading him outside.

Draco gasped as he was led out of Azkaban, his positive emotions rolling in like he was on drugs. The outside air infiltrated his lungs powerfully and he gasped, eyes darting everywhere, trying to take in everything all once. The channel waters lapped up against Azkaban's rocky beach; a few crows flew overhead. Draco almost started sobbing with relief, but a sharp tug on his chains brought him back to reality. The torture of it was immense, to let him see freedom, and really appreciate it again, only so Potter could take it away from him again. The thought nearly made him sob with frustration rather than relief, and he scowled.

Harry had watched Draco's gaze of wonder with amusement, and now couldn't understand why Malfoy was scowling, "Decided you don't like the world?" He asked with a slight teasing edge to his voice.

"No, of course I like it." Draco said in a rude tone, since he was going to be going back no matter what he did, why did it matter if he behaved or not?

Harry raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding what had made Draco's attitude reverse, "I can see we're going to have to have a talk about rules when we get to the house."

"Yeah whatever." Draco said.

Harry decided to apparate without giving Draco any warning. He knew it was mean, but his prisoner had suddenly turned disrespectful and if he was going to handle living with Malfoy, then Draco would have to display less of the snarkiness that had defined their relationship throughout their Hogwarts days.

Draco gasped with pain and nearly vomited on the payment as they landed. He felt like his brain had been wrenched forcefully from his body as his legs gave way as soon as the landing was complete. He glared mutinously at Harry - already the torture was beginning and he wasn't even inside the house yet.

The house was a peculiar looking city abode; ancient, with large imposing windows and stone draconian statues decorating the entrance steps. A large brass sign reading "12 Grimmauld Place" hung above the entrance and Draco had the vague impression that he had been their sometime early in his childhood - though why he would ever have been to Potter's house he had no idea.

Harry pulled him by the cuffs into his house and directed him to sit down on a large sofa. He needed to establish ground rules early so that Malfoy wouldn't drive him crazy for the remainder of the time he was babysitting him, which the ministry had informed him could be weeks as they sought to find the security leak in Azkaban and fix the problem. Harry sighed, he wasn't sure what had flipped in Draco's mind to transform him so quickly from scared, respectful prisoner back into an arrogant brat.

"Why don't you just stuff me in whatever room you're planning on keeping me in Potter?" Draco snapped, he was not going to sit on the couch and talk to Potter. He just wanted to disappear into whatever place was designated for him and try to ride out the next few weeks with as little torturous interaction as possible. Potter hated him; he was going back to Azkaban, might as well enjoy a little peaceful solitude while it was possible.

Harry was taken aback, "I'm not going to stuff you in a room …"

"Closet then?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes in a show of bravado he didn't feel, he hoped he wasn't going to be shoved in a closet.

Harry felt a little pang in his chest, upset that Draco could think he would be that awful to him. The suggestion of a closet was painfully close to what he had endured at the Dursleys, and as much as he disliked Draco he had felt genuinely sorry for him in their last year of Hogwarts and he would never inflict that kind of misery on anyone, "No … you can move around the house as you please. It's all been spelled so you won't be able to set foot outside the door, but so long as you don't attempt to leave or go into my room, you can go where you please."

Draco opened his mouth and then shut it quickly to conceal his shock, "Fine, well I'm going to go "move around" and find the bathroom so I can shower. Take the cuffs off me."

"No," Harry said, "We're going to have a discussion first."

"Huh." Draco said and pulled away from Harry, "I guess I can manage a shower with these on."

Harry growled and before he could stop himself whipped out his wand and cast a powerful stinging hex at Draco's backside.

Draco yelped and stopped dead in his tracks. That had hurt! He turned and stared at Harry wide-eyed.

"Sorry." Harry said, though he liked that Draco was momentarily speechless, "I lost my temper and you were being a bastard."

"Whatever." Draco said, quickly recovering from the sting, "I'm going to shower."

"No, you're going to sit down so we can discuss the rules of your imprisonment."

"No, we're not."

"Yes!" Harry said, reaching out and grabbing Draco again, "We are. Now sit down. What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing!" Draco said, trying to wrench away.

Harry was almost overcome with rage. He had promised himself that he would not allow old prejudices to make him treat Draco with contempt, but his prisoner was making his resolution impossible. He'd always had a bit of a crush on the elegant, beautiful Slytherin throughout their Hogwarts days despite their rivalry, and was determined to make things better now and if could, save Draco from going back to Azkaban. He tried to think if he'd ever seen Draco show deference and respect to anyone, and only a handful of names came to mind. Surely Draco had respected the Dark Lord, but he'd also been terrified of him, which was not Harry's aim. He'd respected Snape, his father … and Harry recollected the disguised Barty Crouch as Mad-eyed Moody. He thought about that particular memory - seeing Malfoy bounce up and down on the ground until he'd been in tears.

As brutal the punishment had been, the look he'd given Mad-eye after had been laced with grudging respect. The idea of turning Draco into a ferret mildly repulsed him, but the idea of dealing out a thorough lesson to Draco's bottom that would produce that same look: the bitten lip, the beautiful grey-blue eyes teary, the lowered respectful gaze shot a little shock down Harry's spine.

Without thinking more about it, he sat down on the couch and pulled Draco face down over his lap, flipping up his robs and yanking down his dirty trousers. He left the boxers up, not even wanting to fathom what manner of creature could be lurking in the browned waist band, and brought his hand down as hard as he could in the center of Dracos's bottom.

"What are you doing?" Draco demanded in a horrified whisper.

"Spanking." Harry responded simply and brought his hand down forcefully, delivering another ten smacks distributed all over the now wriggling rear.

"You c-can't!" Draco protested, kicking as Harry continued to swat his bottom, he squirmed as hard as he could pounding on Harry's iron thighs. It was useless however, he'd always been slighter than Harry, and the time he'd spent in Azkaban without sunlight and exercise had eroded what little muscle tone he did have, and he was practically emaciated.

Harry flicked his wand to call a wooden spoon from the kitchen. He remembered from his days with the Dursleys that it could cause quite the sting. He caught it and deftly smacked against the sensitive undercurve of Draco's butt, tilting the blonde forward for better access.

Draco let out a pathetic yelp as Harry started smacking him with the spoon, "No no, you can't! Don't I get any prisoner rights?"

"No." Harry admitted honestly, cracking the spoon against the alabaster thighs, "Actually you don't, not really. The ministry said we could punish you in any way we saw fit, bind you if necessary, basically anything we wanted so long as you returned in one piece and we hadn't broken any bones. Not to sound too crass, but nobody will care if a Death Eater complains of a sore bottom."

Draco lurched forward as the spoon began to smack his thighs, "Oww!! No stop." His voice started to take on a very whiny quality and he flailed on Harry's lap trying desperately to get away.

Harry continued to rain blows on the naughty bottom as it bucked and wiggled, after a few minutes he could hear little whimpering sounds start to come from Draco, but he smacked resolutely.

Draco could not believe how much this hurt. He had never been spanked growing up, the closest he'd ever come had been the highly embarrassing experience with Mad-eye many years ago. He'd always envisioned a spanking as a rather tame experience, a couple swats across the rear, a pat on the back, and it was all over. The burn in his hindquarters was causing his ears to pound and he could not believe that his position had fallen so low that he was being spanked, hard, across Harry Potter's lap.

In the fifth year, he'd once had a very similar fantasy, but the slaps had been slow and sensuous, with only a tiny hint of a sting and then Harry had held him afterwards, his big hands softly rubbing a healing cream across his pink cheeks. The spanking he was receiving now had not even the slightest echo of his fantasy - it stung and throbbed and he could hear the resolute anger in Harry's voice, lusting for revenge.

Against Draco's will a few tears started to fall down his cheeks, "Please." He begged softly, lying limp across Harry's lap.

Harry gave him five more spanks across the lowest part of his bottom, "Are you going to behave properly? Seriously Malfoy, I swear you're trying to get yourself sent back to Azkaban."

"Oww!" Draco cried, the tears really starting to fall now, "You're going to send me back whatever I do, so what's the point in trying!"

"That's not true!" Harry exclaimed, giving him a few more spanks, "I am not planning to let you go back there if I can help it!"

Draco sniffled back tears, shocked by the slight break in Harry's voice and the fact that he'd added 'if he could help it'; like he really cared what happened to him after the security breach was fixed.

Harry put down the spoon and helped Draco to stand up, taking off the cuffs on his wrists. "You can go take a shower before we talk if you want to. Bathroom is straight up the stairs on the landing, towels etc. are there and ready for you. And an extra set of clothes." He said very softly.

Draco wiped his eyes on his filthy sleeve and fled up the stairs, leaving Harry to ponder what had just happened and why.


	2. Aftermath

**Disclaimer:** Once again, this is D/s fic with spanking and later m/m sexual scenes of an explicit nature. If you are not comfortable with that, please do not read this fic.

Reviews are of course very appreciated  I'm not sensitive and I like critical responses as much as positive ones.

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Draco slammed the door to the bathroom and bolted it quickly behind him, gasping a little from his flight up the stairs. He couldn't remember ever being so embarrassed in his life. His pants were still bunched around his knees, his bottom tingled and throbbed and he could almost feel the heat radiating right through his boxers. He shyly looked in the mirror and gasped in horror at his long tangled hair, dirt and tear streaked hollow cheeks and impossibly skinny frame. He traced a finger down one of the tear lines on his face, flushed red and turned away from the mirror.

A folded pile of clothes was laid out on white chair beside the shower. Draco thumbed through them quickly, sighing as his fingers brushed over the plush velvet fabric of the baby blue robes, white cotton briefs and stiffly pressed dress pants. Surprisingly, it looked as though Potter had gone through the trouble to pick items he would happily wear. He peeled his disgusting clothes all the way off and left them in a heap on the bathroom floor. He wished he still had a wand so it could incinerate the foul smelling, threadbare items. Looking over his shoulder at the mirror again, Draco cringed at the sight of his bottom and thighs and bit his lip hard. Both were a pale shade of red, with the lowest part of his bottom a deeper shade of crimson with diffuse purple blotches starting to appear under the skin.

He started the shower and hunted in the cabinets for shampoo and soap. To his dismay Potter stocked only the most generic Diagon alley brands, not the fancy, sweet smelling cosmetics he was used to from home. He opened the shampoo bottle and inhaled, pleasantly shocked by the baby soft scent. He set the bottles inside the shower and cautiously climbed in. He hissed as the hot water made contact with his punished skin and turned into the jet instead. A few more tears leaked out and mixed with the hot water. Draco sighed and his whole body shuddered as a guttural sob erupted from his lips.

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Harry remained on the couch, running his fingers up and down the length of the spoon. The heat of the moment passed, he was more than a little mortified at having spanked a former Death Eater like disobedient child. If he was honest with himself, part of him had loved it. The sheer thrill of power and seeing Draco so helpless and vulnerable was mildly arousing. Draco's expression had been as beautiful as he'd remembered it, and Harry briefly entertained a fantasy of sitting Draco on his lap and kissing the tears away from his wet eyes. He did feel a slight discomfort at having caused him so much pain. Not that Malfoy hadn't deserved it, he justified quickly, but the howls been a little hard to take.

He tucked the spoon into a drawer next the couch and got up with a sigh. He needed to go to the office and pick up a few case files to page through during the afternoon. But first, he went to the kitchen and laid out a place setting. He grabbed milk, orange juice and jam from the refrigerator and poured two glasses setting them next to the plate and knife. He called two pieces of bread from the pantry, toasted them with his wand and laid them on the plate, crossing the knife over the side of the plate and leaving it there with the jam and butter. Draco's stomach probably wouldn't hold all that much, he reasoned, after spending over two years in Azkaban. He would get him something more substantial when he got back.

He left a note next to the breakfast explaining where he was going and that he'd back shortly then put on an outer robe and left the house and apparated to his office' headquarters.

Ron looked up from his cubicle as Harry passed him on the way to his adjoining mini-office, "Morning mate, how's Malfoy?"

Harry rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated groan.

Ron grimaced, "That bad, huh? Crabbe's not much better. I'm planning to stay here all afternoon just so I can avoid him. When I picked him up he smelt so bad I almost gagged and he's so awkwardly sullen, just glares and packs down food."

"Yeah … Malfoy glares too." Harry muttered, even though Ron was his best friend, there was no way he was going to tell him how he'd disciplined Draco, "Anyway I just stopped by to grab a few things …"

Ron grimaced, "Have to watch him every second?"

"Yeah it's horrible."

Ron shook his head sympathetically, "Ministry better resolve this and fast. You're in the worst boat, mate, with Malfoy's father on the loose and all. I can't imagine having to keep an eye on him … when he knows that. He must be going as crazy as a tiger in a cage."

"He doesn't know."

"What?"

"I didn't tell him who the escaped prisoners were. I didn't even tell him how many. I know my job's going to be difficult already trying to keep them out, I don't need the extra work of keeping Malfoy in when he knows his father is free again." Harry admitted.

"Good call mate." Ron affirmed, "We'll just have to make sure not to arrange a playdate between Malfoy and Crabbe, because Crabbe knows."

Harry gave a very small nod and went to his cubicle to grab his things. He was anxious to get home, a part of him needing to ensure that Draco was alright after how he had dealt with him and wanting desperately to see if Malfoy, once cleaned, was still as beautiful he'd been when they were in Hogwarts. The other part purely concerned that Draco would seek revenge for his bottom by ruining his things. Not that Draco could do excessive damage to the tightly warded house without a wand, but he had pictures easily destroyed even by Muggle methods.

He sat down at his desk and began rummaging through the files to find what he needed. The case files were scattered and mixed together, not even organized by month or year - everything heaped chaotically into a magically shrunken pile under his desk. He tapped the pile with his wand and it expanded so that it almost filled the little cubicle. With a sigh, Harry sat down on the floor and started going through the hundreds of case files for the eleven he needed.

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After staying in the shower for nearly an hour, Draco finally emerged, feeling somewhat more human, and put on the clothes that had been left for him. He rummaged in the drawers again and found a hairbrush to untangle his mangled locks, grimacing in the mirror as he began to work through the huge clumps at the back of his head. When he'd finished he tidied up the bathroom as much as he could without a wand, throwing the old clothes into a waste basket under the sink, and crept downstairs to find Potter.

As much as Draco wished he could just avoid Potter for the rest of his life, he was famished. His stomach grumbled uncomfortably. He was exhausted and needed to know which room (or dungeon or closet) to sleep in. The living room was empty so he went to the kitchen and his eyes bulged a little seeing the carefully spread place setting. The scent of the slightly burned toast and melting butter made his mouth water, but as there was only one place set, it had to be Potter's afternoon tea.

A note rested on the edge of the table with brightly embossed gold lettering that said - MALFOY in large letters at the top. Draco picked up and scanned it quickly -

_Malfoy - _

_I have gone to my office to pick up a few files, I will be back in an hour or two. Here is your breakfast. Your room is on the second floor at the end of the hallway. The house is tightly warded and will not let you leave, and I will know if you make any attempts to get through the ward and won't be happy about it. Help yourself to anything additional from the fridge or I can make you something else when I come home. _

_Harry_

Draco put the note down and edged over to his breakfast, eating the two slices of toast in four quick bites and downing both the juice and the milk in seconds. He wanted to race to the fridge and eat everything in it, but he decided to let his stomach settle on the food. Plus the idea of making Potter cook for him was mildly satisfying, though he was surprised by the offer. He looked around the sunny little kitchen, taking in the light granite counters and glass tabletops. It made sense that the wizarding world's golden boy would have an irritatingly sunny home, he thought bitterly and reached for the daily prophet that was leaned up against a half drained coffee mug left on the other side of the table.

The headline made him gasp: "New Lead on Lucius Malfoy Escape" it read and Draco's eyes went wide. His father was free, probably planning to escape to the Caribbean or a part of Africa with the family fortune. The ministry would never find him and Lucius would be able to live in the luxury they'd always been accustomed to. Draco had to join him, he simply had to. The prospect of going back to Azkaban absolutely terrified him, and no matter what Potter had said he didn't trust Harry to keep him out of the prison.

He sat in silence at stared at the article for another couple of minutes. He decided to try probing at the ward, just to see what it was made of. He wouldn't do it with magic, of course, because then Potter was sure to find out and probably blister his ass all over again.

He got up from the table and walked up to the front door. Glancing quickly over his shoulder to make sure Potter really wasn't back he cautiously swung it open. A wet afternoon breeze flowed in through the open door and tickled at his nose. Draco breathed deeply, inspired by the crisp air and took a step out the door.

Instantly he was knocked backwards onto his haunches and the door slammed. A heavy iron cage appeared out of thin air and dropped down around him, enclosing him completely behind the immoveable bars. Draco gave a surprised little squawk as the cage materialized and whimpered as he realized he was completely enclosed and wouldn't be able to escape until Potter got back. Draco leaned against the bars and pulled his knees up to his chest. He was so screwed.


	3. Establishment of Order

Disclaimer: Once again, this is D/s fic with spanking and later m/m sexual scenes of an explicit nature. If you are not comfortable with that, please do not read this fic.

Correction: As supersweet4evr helpfully pointed out there is an error between Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 - in the first chapter, Harry tells Draco that his father has escaped, but in the second chapter it is made quite clear that Draco does not know his father had left the prison. Chapter 2 is correct. I can't figure out how to change it on chapter 1 - if there is a way and someone wants to educate me, that would be fantastic.

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Harry stumbled through the front door and dropped his files all over the stoop as he struggled to push the door closed. He bent to pick them up, casually tapping the pile with his wand to shrink the folders and then looked up right through the bars of a large iron cage at a clean, but cringing Draco Malfoy.

Harry sat down next to the cage and scowled. "You tried to leave, didn't you?" He asked in a flat tone.

Draco brought his knees up even tighter to his chest and plucked miserably at a stray thread on his trousers, "I saw the daily prophet article. I didn't think the wards would do anything but form a barrier if I just tried to walk through without magic - and I didn't probe with magic - honest, I swear, I just opened the door and took a step - and I'm sorry I didn't realize …" Draco trailed off, realizing he had begun to babble and whimper like a small child.

Harry tapped the cage bars with his wand and the entire structure vanished from around Draco, "I warned you not to try to test the wards in any way. Did you read my note?" He demanded.

"No …" Draco lied unconvincingly and bit at his lower lip. He was instantly ashamed of the quaver in his voice - As a Slytherin he should be better at deceit than that, but there was something in Harry's very stern gaze that made Draco's stomach flip.

Reaching out, Harry took Draco firmly by the bicep and pulled him up. He was surprised at how young and scared Draco looked; shifting nervously from foot to foot and biting his lower lip, blue eyes wide and blinking rapidly. He gave the arm a reassuring little squeeze and smiled a little at Draco, before realizing what he had done, flushing a little and turning away. He pulled Draco behind him into the living room.

As soon as he realized where they were headed, Draco let out a tiny whimper and tried to wrench his arm away from Harry, "Why are we going in there?" He asked shakily when he found it was impossible to pull away.

Harry sat down on the living room couch and still holding on to Draco's arm, patted his lap, "Obviously this type of discipline makes an impression on you, so every time you do something you know you should not while you are living here, you will go over my lap and I will smack your ass until you're good and sorry, is that understood?" Harry's voice had dropped to a low growl and he eyed Draco almost predatorily, eyes scanning over the long silver blond hair, soft skin and wide blue eyes.

"I'm sorry now!" Draco protested, "Please … you don't have to!"

Draco shook nervously. His pain tolerance had never been very high, and he was sure that this spanking would hurt far more than the last, given how sore his bottom already was. Still, he couldn't quite say he was overcome with fear. Harry hadn't really injured him the last time, and he didn't appear to be that angry.

"I do have to." Harry yanked hard on Draco's arm and pulled him over his lap, flipping up the soft robs and sliding the trousers down to his knees. He could see reddness of Draco's flesh through the sheer white underwear and wondered if it would be too much if he pulled them down. He rested his hand for a moment on Draco's bottom, feeling the heat radiate through the cloth, the suppleness of the cheek and the small quiver of the skin.

"No not bare." Draco whispered in a tiny, mortified voice as Harry's hand hesitated, "Please."

Harry pulled the underwear down to meet Draco's trousers at his knees, and gasped. Despite being red and a little puffy, Draco's bottom showed clear signs of starvation, appearing flat and rather sunken. During their Hogwarts days, Harry had paid close attention to the form of Draco's behind and remembered the plush, pillow like cheeks, so bouncy and striking on the boy's slender frame. The state of his bottom now would never do; Harry intended to start feeding him right up as soon as he'd re-established his control.

Draco squirmed as he felt Harry's hand ghost over his bare flesh. The touch sent prickling sensations up his spine and he grudgingly admitted to himself that under any other circumstance, he would be turned on by being held over Harry's muscular lap, having his bare ass gently stroked by Harry's big calloused hand. In the current situation, his cock prudently remained scared and flaccid.

Harry raised his hand and Draco tensed up, gave a defeated little moan and buried his face in the couch. The hand crashed down onto his helpless bottom and Draco yelped and started to wriggle. It started to descend hard and fast all over his bucking bottom and Draco squealed.

Harry held Draco firmly onto his lap with his strong left arm, slapping powerfully with his right. He kept his hand loose and supply and whipped his fingers up and down the squirming backside. Draco's already red bum started to turn crimson.

Draco began to sniffle and whimper, his legs kicking up off the floor each time Harry smacked. He tried to remain silent, biting his lip so hard it started to bleed and swallowing a sob even as tears coursed down his cheeks. But when Harry's hand shifted and began to smack his thighs, Draco let out a wail and begged, "No, not there, please Sir not there!" His breath caught as he realized what he'd just called Harry, and his face, already bright red from crying, flushed even darker and he grabbed a pillow to sob into.

Harry pulled the spoon out of the drawer and rested it on the flaming behind. He felt Draco his arm wrap around his leg and clutch at it desperately as his body shook with sobs, "Please ... not that ... won't do it again!"

Harry resolutely smacked Draco's sit spots ten times with the spoon, eliciting a few gasped "owws" from the blonde. Then he put the spoon back into the drawer and said gently, "It's okay now, we're done, you can get up."

The grip on Harry's pant leg slackened a little, but Draco made no move to rise off his lap. He lay there crying softly, and hugging the pillow as tightly as he could. Harry leaned back against the couch and on impulse began to pat Draco's back rhythmically working his way from between the shoulder blades down to the little hollow above his backside. He half expected Draco to resist the comforting gesture and push him away, but the man just laid over his lap and sniffled, his hand still loosely gripping Harry's shin.

After laying limply for a few minutes and just enjoying the reassuring pats down his back, Draco released Harry's leg and wiped his face on his sleeve. Harry fixed his clothing and moved him so he could sit on the couch. Draco choked back another sob as his sore backside made contact; he'd thought it hurt before, but now it absolutely burned. He reached for a tissue and blew his nose, then then fiddled with the tissue, looking at his lap, unable to make eye contact with Harry. He was mortified beyond belief at having been spanked again ... and calling Harry 'Sir'.

He eventually peered up at Harry from under his wet, heavy lashes and asked, "Can I go back upstairs now?"

"Err ... okay." Harry said, wishing he could do something else to make him feel better even as he felt satisfied with himself for dealing out the discipline Draco had screamed for throughout their Hogwarts career. The blonde heaved himself up, pressed the tissue to his bitten lip and scampered up the stairs.

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Draco collapsed on the bed and slept fitfully for a couple of hours. As he always slept on his back, he couldn't get comfortable on the bed and kept waking up despite his exhaustion. When the alarm clock on his bedside table beeped 2 am, he finally gave up and opened his door.

Placed immediately next to the frame was a small tray with water, milk, a peanut butter sandwich and a couple of chocolate biscuits. Draco's stomach rumbled and he picked up the tray and scurried back into his room.

He demolished the sandwich and beverages and then sat nibbling on a cookie while he stared at the ceiling in the room. The little room was comfortable and clean. It had solid blue walls, a large bed with a blush blue comforter and a large oak wardrobe in the corner. Though plain, compared to Azkaban cell it seemed palatial and Draco found the clean simplicity of it to be comforting. The window looked over a small pond in the backyard, illuminated with a hanging lantern.

Draco eased himself out of bed and padded down the stairs. The house appeared to be dark, and he was hoping that Harry had gone to bed. He was still hungry and wanted to read the rest of the Daily Prophet if it was still on the table. A faint light in the living room was still on, so Draco tried to creep past it on his way to the kitchen. If Harry was still up, he did not want to see him, in fact, Draco told himself, he would try to get through the next few weeks without ever seeing Harry Potter again.

He was more confused about Harry than he ever had been. From fourth year on, he had watched Harry from afar, knowing the attractive Gryffindor was off limits and cursing his first year self for allowing their initial meeting to go so badly. He'd fantasized about Harry constantly; even while he'd dated a Durmstrang transfer student his mind always focused on Harry, wishing the boy's reddish curls would transform into Harry's dark flop, imagining an old Quidditch scar on the boy's leg was the lightning mark and tracing it obsessively with his fingers. And tonight, Harry hadn't beaten him and then pushed him away - he had touched him, softly patting and reassuring him; Draco could still feel the gentle contact of his strong fingers on his spine. And even the beating itself hadn't been vicious or uncontrolled; Harry had managed him, dealing efficiently without being cruel. His breath caught as his cock gave a tiny little twitch.

Harry looked up as Draco tried to slink past the door frame. He had his files spread out around him and was trying to connect the activities of two suspects together, with little luck. "Draco?" He called softly, "Do you need something?"

Draco jumped. "J-just hungry. Going to the kitchen," he stammered out.

Harry instantly put down his files and got to his feet, "I'll get you something."

"I can find the refrigerator, Potter." Draco said, his voice dripping with a cocky sarcasm he didn't feel.

"I know." Harry said, "But I'd like to make you something."

Harry went into the kitchen first used his wand to call all the ingredients for pancakes from the pantry, as well as several mixing bowls and a skillet. He decided Draco had probably had enough of toast, but he doubted his stomach could really handle that much yet. He started to mix the ingredients in a big bowl, adding chocolate chunks and stirring them in.

Draco watched Harry silently before taking a seat at the table, wincing as he did so and trying to wriggle around to find a spot it didn't hurt so much to sit on. He fished the newspaper off the other end of the table and flipped it open again. He felt so lost in the world as he scanned the headlines, not knowing who most of the politicians were or understanding references in the articles.

Harry put a plate of finished pancakes down in front of Draco and put a bottle of syrup down beside it. Draco picked up his fork and mumbled a quiet, "Thanks." Before starting to eat in earnest, reacquainting himself with the world and not noticing when Harry put a cup of tea next to his food and then silently went back to the living room.


	4. Connection

Warning: Same deal as always. This is a D/s fic that contains adult nonconsensual spanking and m/m scenes of an explicit nature, if that disturbs you, please don't read this fic. None of these characters belong to me, they are the property of JKR.

This is a short, erotic little chapter, but it advances the plot and a longer one will soon follow. As always, reviews are encouraged, constructive criticism appreciated.

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Draco woke up the next morning with his face plastered to the newspaper. He carefully peeled his skin off the sweaty pages and went to the bathroom to wash the newsprint off his cheek. He fished around in the cabinet for a towel, doused it in soap and water and started to fervently attack the block newsprint spread from well under his eyes to below his chin. The print stubbornly clung to his flesh, growing fainter as he washed but refusing to vanish. The muggle cleaning techniques were hopelessly annoying; if he'd had a wand he could have made the newsprint vanish in seconds. As he scrubbed, he saw Harry shuffle up behind him in the bathroom mirror, pressing his lips together in a poor attempt to hide a smile.

"You look ridiculous." he chuckled, stepping into the bathroom and grinning wider as Draco continued to scrub vainly at large heavy printed 'Prophet' stamped directly below his eye. Without hesitating to think, he raised his wand to Draco's cheek and stroked it across the text, leaving nothing but the smooth cream of Draco's skin behind.

Draco inspected his cheek in the mirror and then cautiously ran his fingers over the place where Harry's wand had touched. The area felt oddly tingly and softer than usual, and he could feel little shivers running through him. He found himself engulfed in a vivid fantasy where Harry was washing him everywhere, scrubbing away with the Gryffindor-scarlet wash cloth, one hand on his shoulder submerging him in the water, the other sliding down his stomach slowly ... He flushed when he realized Harry was still standing next to him, watching him with that distinctly predatorial, determined gaze, green eyes sparkling behind his crooked glasses.

Harry stepped forward around Draco and wrung out the wash cloth, then tapped it with his wand to dry it completely and fold it. He bent down in front of Draco, putting it back in the cabinet and brushing him lightly on his way up. He felt the gentle contact acutely, his skin sparking where he touched Draco's leg. He straightened up and gazed at him, and was pleased when the other man literally blushed and looked quickly down at his toes, visibly squirming from foot to foot. Harry could literally feel his cock growing harder in his pants, only half against his will. He had wanted him for so long. He took a hesitant step forward; Draco did not move away.

"You liked it when I touched you ... didn't you?" Harry asked, his voice coming out as a low growl. Merlin, he was so turned on right now. Draco blushed an even deeper shade of red, and Harry felt the bottom of his stomach drop right out.

"Err ... umm ... y-yes." Draco stammered after a moment, and then his eyes dropped to the floor in further embarrassment.

Encouraged, Harry stepped up next to him and reached out to grab his chin. He moved so his body rubbed against Draco's and slowly tilted his face upwards. Draco uttered a series of tiny gasps and lifted his lips to meet Harry's, closing the last part of the gap between them. Harry pressed his lips hard onto Draco's and then started kissing him aggressively, his tongue exploring every crevice. He pushed Draco back into the sink and lifted him up to sit on the granite counter, wrapping his arms around the other man's back and sliding his body between his parted thighs. He took hold of the long cornsilk hair and pulled his head back further, growling softly as his lips ground harder against the softness of Draco's mouth.

Draco surrendered his body entirely to Harry. He melted into the strong, lithe body and let him take control of his movements, going as limp and malleable as a rag doll. His lips parted and and his body pressed into the larger man, his hips thrusting subconsciously upward and grinding against Harry's muscular stomach. He gasped and moaned as Harry started kissing and nibbling down his neck, his deft fingers sliding Draco's robes up over his head. He loved Harry's energetic, discovering kiss and the rough way his teeth sank into his neck, only to yield the pressure to the wetness of his tongue, seconds later ...

When Draco's body became completely limp in his hold, except for the persistent movement of his hips, Harry eased back. He ignored the tiny moan of protest from Draco and purred, "Shall I make you some breakfast? Maybe you'd like to read today's newspaper as well? Get it stuck all over your face?"

The accusatory pout on Draco's face aroused Harry still further. He danced his fingers up and down the soft skin of his thigh, raising a questioning eyebrow. He wanted to control and take care of every aspect of Draco; to be responsible for making him healthy again and make him happy in a way he didn't think the Slytherin had ever been. "Well?" He demanded when no response came and he ghosted a finger across Draco's naked legs.

Draco wiggled on the counter top, he was so horny he wanted to explode and never wanted Harry to stop kissing him, but there was something erotic about letting Harry decide what to do with him, whether it was kiss him, or feed him or even, Merlin forbid, decide he needed another spanking. He nodded his acquiescence and hopped off the counter, hesitantly reaching out to grab Harry's hand and squeeze it in his own. He allowed himself to be led into the kitchen and sat down in the chair closest to the stove, smiling shyly at Harry as the other man ... his lover? ... summoned ingredients and pans from around the room.

Harry let the breakfast simmer on the stove and took a seat next to Draco. His eyes scanned him from the top of his head all the way down his slender torso and closed thighs. He was pleased that Draco hadn't decided to get dressed before letting Harry prepare breakfast for him. He was beautiful naked, and Harry wanted to enjoy the view as long as he could. He smiled widely at him, adjusted his glasses which had been knocked even more askew and said, "I've wanted to do that for quite a long time. You're a really good kisser."

Draco blushed furiously again and picked at the table cloth, he wasn't ready to admit yet that he'd dreamed of Harry's body since they were in school and that the Gryffindor had more than met his expectations. His life had changed so abruptly in the last few days that he felt rather dazed. At least he didn't think Harry was playing a trick on him; they'd never gotten along at Hogwarts, but the golden boy had always been pretty straight forward and easy to read. He felt a surge of hope that maybe he would never have to go back to Azkaban at all, that Harry had meant it when he'd promised to keep him out of the prison if he could.

"You're a good kisser too." He murmured.


	5. The Map

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update! Other things have been getting in the way. I wrote a longer chapter this time, to try to make up for the long absence and will try not to have such a long break in the story again. As always, reviews are highly appreciated. Enjoy!

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Harry studied the map balanced in his lap and circled another location with his quill. In the past few weeks, the number of sightings of escaped Death Eaters had steadily increased and he, along with the rest of his auror team, was trying to work a central location where the criminals could be hiding. He sighed heavily; the sightings were not tightly grouped, ranging in location from the northern tip of Scotland to central London. Still, Kingsley insisted that the Azkaban-weakened escapees had to have base somewhere and knowing how fragile Draco still was, even after three weeks of solid meals and sleep, Harry had to agree that the Death Eaters were lodging somewhere.

He rested the quill on his bedside table and sealed the red ink well. He grinned when he felt Draco stir beside him. The fair eyes studied him for only a second before Draco buried his face in Harry's chest and rolled around to get comfortable again. The blonde finally settled himself with his head tucked just below Harry's chin and one arm stretched around his waist. Harry planted a kiss on Draco's fragrant hair and rubbed his back absentmindedly as he propped up the map and continued to weed through the town names, hoping for something familiar to jump out at him.

"What're you doing?" Came a soft, sleepy mumble from under his chin.

"Trying to make sense of these sighting locations." Harry said, "Kingsley thinks there must be a central location between all of them, because all of them would still be pretty weak and not able to apparate very far."

Draco nuzzled into Harry's chest and then pushed himself up on one elbow, "Let me see. I might have some suggestions."

Harry blinked twice in surprise, "Really? I would have asked before ... but I didn't think you'd want to help, seeing as Lucius is your father and you're well, ... you know."

"Seeing as I'm an evil, no good Death Eater, who should still be in Azkaban, yeah." Draco spat at him and then looked away, but Harry did not miss the slight tremble in his voice or the way Draco was biting his bottom lip.

"That's not what I said."

"It's what you meant." Draco snapped and swung himself out of Harry's bed. He was hurt, much more than he wanted to show, that Harry still thought of him like that despite of the advancements they'd made in the last few weeks. Neither of them had looked back since their first kiss in the bathroom; Draco spent almost every night in Harry's bed, they cooked together and spent hours just cuddling on the couch while Harry reviewed papers and Draco devoured every book he could get his hands on.

"Draco." Harry began flatly, but Draco ducked out of his room and he heard him stomp down the hall to his own bedroom.

Harry sighed again and regretted what he'd said. He didn't think of Draco that way, he couldn't, not with how attached he had already become to the man, but of the four that had escaped, three were in some way related to Draco. He hadn't expected Draco would help, especially with the arrest of his Father. He looked at the clock beside his bed and decided he didn't have time to make amends before he went to work. He decided he would pick up something nice for Draco on his way home and try to work it out. He dressed, rolled up the map and snatched his wand from beneath his pillow.

Before descending the stairs, he hesitated and knocked on Draco's closed door, "I'm going to work now. I'll try to come home early if I can and then maybe we can look at the map together?"

When he received no response, Harry scowled and stormed down the steps. He allowed the door to bang shut behind him and then took a deep breath when he entered the garden. He stole one last look towards the house and then apparated to the office.

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Draco sniffled into his pillow, and let the last of the tantrum run its course. He heard the door bang shut and winced ever so slightly, hoping he hadn't really made Harry too angry. He wrapped both arms around the small pillow and tried to cry out the rest of his hurt feelings. When his tears subsided, he started to feel a bit angry that Harry had stomped out of the house. Harry had no right be angry when he was the one who had been an insensitive prat. He got up from his bed and the more comfortable, familiar feeling of anger settled. He made his way downstairs, fixed himself a cup of tea and settled down at the kitchen table, idly flicking through the morning's newspaper.

When he'd finished, he folded the paper and stood up with a quiet sigh. He had chores to do. On his sixth morning at the cottage, Harry had passed him a list over breakfast and explained that Draco as much as he was starting to care for him, Draco was technically still a prisoner and was not on holiday and therefore would not be allowed to hang around the cottage reading and doing nothing productive. Draco had grumbled and complained, but Harry had not relented and had even swatted his bottom a few times when Draco tried outright refusal. For the most part he'd tried to do them to the best of his ability, though vacuuming had proved more difficult than he'd first imagined. He'd discovered that he enjoyed pleasing Harry and even though it got on his nerves to do the chores without magic, he could see the point about his stay not being a vacation. He liked the satisfaction he got from keeping the cottage, that was quickly becoming as much of a home to him as he'd ever had, clean and livable and it gave the long boring days when Harry had to work some structure at least.

Draco sniffed distastefully as he went to retrieve the vacuum cleaner from the closet to start on the living room. When his fingers closed around the handle, he eyed the front door and remembered Harry's cutting implication from earlier that morning. Grumbling, he shoved the machine back in the closet and closed the door on it hard. Fuck the chores list, if Harry could be a bastard, so could he.

The idea of being a total bastard brought a smirk to Draco's lips. He was after all, a Slytherin and former Death Eater and if trying to behave well and be sweet for Harry didn't earn him any points, then he might as well be as unpleasant as he could. He opened the closet again and retrieved the vacuum. He opened the compartment, took out the dust bag and shook it out all over the living room. With a rush of inspiration he went back into the kitchen and scattered the remaining dust all over the clean dishes in the cupboards and sink. Then, he opened Harry's cabinet, took out his most expensive bottle - the one Harry had been presented with along with a medal from the Ministry of Magic for his services to society - uncorked it, and started to sip right from the bottle, reclining back in his chair with a cruel chuckle. He'd show Potter that treating him like that was completely unacceptable.

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Harry stopped in Diagon Alley on his way home. He regretted the way he'd slammed the door and left that morning and hoped Draco knew at least that was sorry for what he'd implied. He stopped at Madame Maulkin's shop and picked out a few new items for Draco, including a rope in dark Slytherin green he knew his lover would appreciate the gesture, even though he personally preferred Draco in red.

When he apparated into the garden, he could see Draco slumped in the kitchen armchair, apparently having fallen asleep next to the window while he waited for Harry to come home. That was good, at least he was downstairs where Harry wouldn't have to retrieve him and looked more relaxed. Harry adjusted his parcel under his arm and opened the front door. He immediately dropped the item and stared around in shock, both hands on his hips. The hall and living room were filthy; covered in a thick layer of dust, what appeared to be human hair and there were splotches of spilled food all over the carpet. He stomped into the kitchen and his jaw dropped still further when he saw his saved wine bottle broken on the dust covered floor and noticed that Draco was drooling, apparently passed out with a half-full wine glass resting on the table next to him.

Harry shook him awake and Draco's eyes opened slowly. He was not accustomed to being woken up in such a rough manner, "What you want?" He slurred rudely and let his head slump back onto the chair.

"What did you do?" Harry demanded, his voice shaking with barely suppressed fury, "Why did you drink my wine? Why is this house a disaster?"

"Was mad!" Draco defended drunkenly, "You were a git." He scowled at Harry and crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry grabbed him by the arm, pulled him out of the chair and then carried him up the stairs to his bedroom. There was no sense in yelling or disciplining now when Draco was too drunk to really have a conversation or process everything that went on. He pushed Draco down onto his bed, hastily swept the covers over him and scribbled a note on his beside table before going back downstairs to survey the damage. He shook his head slowly as he looked around - the entire downstairs was a disaster and he couldn't believe Draco had drank his special wine. He'd been saving it, to commemorate what had happened and had explained as much to Draco. He'd given Draco permission to consume whatever he wanted in the house with the exception of that one bottle. The bottle had once belonged in Mad Eye's private store, and Harry felt the loss of it as if he was losing a small cherished piece of his former friend.

He wanted badly to clean up the mess but decided to leave it for Draco to deal with when he recovered from his alcohol. The couch was too disgusting to sit on, so he retrieved his gift for Draco from the floor and took it along with a set of files up to his bedroom. He stuffed the parcel under a pile of shoes at the bottom of his closet - there was no way he was giving Draco a present now. He huffily settled himself back down on his bed and started to read through his files, his quill whipping notes across the pages in angry fluid motions.

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Draco woke up a few hours later with a pounding headache and an even worse pounding of fear in his chest. Now that Harry was home and he'd seen the look of fury on his boyfriend's face, he realized that revenge might not have been the smartest course of action. He scowled out the window and crossed his arms again; no, he would not allow himself to be spanked when Harry had been the one to cause this whole mess. He rolled over onto his other side and frowned seeing the handwritten note on his table.

Malfoy -

When you wake up come find immediately. We need to have a discussion.

Draco bit his lip at the terse language and the use of his last name as an address. Harry had to be really angry to call him that and he felt his bravado collapse. He knew how much Mad-Eye had meant to Harry, and how Harry associated him with some many of his friends who had died during the war. Drinking the wine had been a step too far, he grudgingly admitted to himself and silently prayed that Harry would forgive him for it.

He crept out of his bedroom and wandered down the hall. Harry's bedroom light was on and seeping out into the hallway. He knocked very softly on the door and when Harry didn't respond called in a whisper, "Harry?"

"Come in." Harry's voice barked from within.

Draco shuffled inside and avoided looking at his lover by carefully shutting the door and fiddling with the handle until the door clicked perfectly back into place. His eyes scanned the bed and rested on a single, worn slipper laying next to Harry's hip. Harry never wore slippers and Draco was confused as to why it would be there, sitting in his place on the bed.

"Do you want to explain why there is dust all over the downstairs floor, why you spilled food everywhere and why you decided to drink my bottle of wine?" Harry demanded, fighting to keep his voice level.

Draco shifted uneasily, "I ... was just really upset, about what you said ... or rather didn't say ... I wasn't thinking clearly, I'm sorry."

Harry felt a little of his rage deflate at Draco's rather humble apology, "No, clearly you weren't. Draco, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings and you wouldn't let me explain afterwards. I'm sorry I hurt you, I don't think you're evil or a bad person at all, I just didn't think you'd want to be involved in your father's arrest and I didn't know how fully you'd made up your mind to give up your former lifestyle. But how you behaved was ridiculous. You acted like a spoiled toddler and you took something from me that I valued."

Draco hung his head and studied his feet, "I'm sorry."

Harry nodded and picked up the slipper next to him. He slid across the bed so he was sitting on the edge nearest to Draco, "I'm not going to allow you to behave like this. You know better and it's hurtful to our relationship. Bare your bottom and come over here."

Draco's eyes became enormous. Bare his own bottom and willingly walk over for a spanking? Harry could not be serious. Even though he had to grudgingly admit that he did deserve it and was rather relieved that Harry had the balls to discipline and keep him in his place, without ever causing any real damage. It made him feel safe with Harry in a way he'd never felt safe with anyone before. Harry continued to watch him, his green-eyed gaze very steady and Draco gulped knowing that Harry was perfectly serious.

"Draco, now please." Harry said injecting his voice with a hint of steel and patting his lap.

"I'll clean up the mess." Draco whimpered.

"Yes, you will." Harry agreed patiently, "But first, you will come over here and accept your punishment."

Draco shuffled closer to Harry, his feet betraying him even as his mouth continued to try and talk him out of trouble, "I'll clean up the mess AND do the chores on weekends."

"Baby, I'm not going to make you do that. You will clean up the mess but there will be no additional consequences after you are spanked. You are going to be spanked no matter what bargain you try to offer me, so let's go." Harry reached out and pulled Draco next to him.

Draco tried to pull away for a moment, but Harry's fingers were locked around his wrist so he sighed, pulled his boxers down to his thighs and laid himself over the waiting lap, flipping up his robes as he did so.

Harry rested the slipper on Draco's exposed bottom as he adjusted his position so Draco's legs were trapped beneath his own. He made sure Draco's bottom was tilted right up in the air, leaving his sit spot very exposed and stretching the skin tautly so that the sting would increase. He took hold of Draco's right wrist and pinned it into the small of his back.

"H-Harry?" Draco squeaked in a tiny voice, "Are you still really angry with me?"

Harry took a deep breath, "No. I'm disappointed in you that you would act like that, but I'm not truly angry."

Draco processed this information and then whimpered, "Does the slipper hurt more than the spoon?"

"No, baby." Harry said soothingly hearing the scared whimper, "It will sting but it's not worse."

Draco took a deep breath and buried his face into the bedspread.

Harry brought the slipper down on the waiting bottom with a devastating smack. He felt Draco tense and then squirm as the sting radiated across his buttocks. Harry held him tightly and spanked up and down the pale cheeks, swatting his thighs, then right over the crack and up both cheeks again.

Draco started howling after only five swats. He admitted it wasn't really worse than the spoon, but it stung so badly he could hardly stand it. The fact that he couldn't kick his legs or try to protect his bottom with his hand made it somehow so much worse and when Harry started to rain blows on his tightly presented sit spot, he started to cry.

"Stop Harry please!" Draco blubbered when Harry aimed a few well placed swats to the insides of his thighs. He wiggled frantically to remove his bottom from his boyfriend's lap, but Harry just kept smacking as the heat in his rear grew from uncomfortable to unbearable.

"Please ... please sir, I'll be good!" Draco sobbed, pounding his fists against the bed in an effort to channel some of the pain that surged through his bum.

Draco's bottom reddened rapidly under the slipper's assault. Harry targeted his sit spot again and again, eliciting yelps and sobbed out promises from the man over his knee. Harry continued to smack until Draco laid still over his lap, making no sounds except for contrite sniffles. His back heaving as he cried silently.

Finally, Harry put the slipper down beside him. He pulled off Draco's boxers, not wanting them to irritate the sensitive skin and then let his soft robe fall back down over his bottom to cover it. He helped Draco to stand and then pulled him into a tight hug, needing to show him that he still cared for Draco even though he had been very angry. He rubbed Draco's still heaving back and allowed him to nestle under his neck.

"Shh." He cooed as gently as he could kissing through Draco's hair, "It's okay, we're all done. You're fine."

Draco sniffed back the rest of his tears but continued to just rest against Harry's shoulder. Then, he slowly climbed into Harry's lap. He winced as his bottom touched the muscular thigh, but he just wanted the full body contact and he could tell by the way Harry wrapped his arms even more tightly around him that the gesture was appreciated.


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