Chapter 11

When Wednesday rolled around, Draco had mixed feelings about the trip he was taking to Harry’s house. After the intimacy of the Dark Arts ritual the two of them had shared, Draco had felt a little off-balanced. He’d known all the risks of offering his submission and blood to a Warden in a theoretical way, but that ritual had been the first he’d truly participated in.

At least, it had been the first ritual he’d participated in with a true Warden. Because Wardens were so rare, it was typical for someone to take on the role of Warden when a ritual needed to be done. The rituals weren’t quite as powerful when an Anchor had to force themselves to play the role of Warden, but they would still work.

Draco had been around other Wardens besides Harry, of course, but he’d never felt safe enough to offer them his submission and blood for use in a Dark Arts ritual. That was to be expected, of course, since the other Wardens that Draco had met in the past had all been friends of his father, and all had been Dark wizards in the service of Voldemort.

When Harry had nearly lost control of his magic in the middle of his shop, Draco had acted almost entirely on impulse. Draco had seen the desperation in Harry’s eyes, had witnessed the terror that had consumed Harry when he was worried about leveling the city, and Draco had felt compelled to act. His magic had compelled him to Harry’s side, compelled him to act as the Anchor that would allow Harry to ground his magic.

And that was what had Draco off-balance. Until that day, Draco had always had complete control over his magic. Sure, he sometimes felt drawn towards certain spells, rituals, and even certain people, but he was always able to make his own decisions about the use of his magic. Not last Thursday. No, last Thursday, his magic had compelled him to Harry’s side, compelled him to act as an Anchor to a proper Warden. Draco still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Wardens were powerful and rare. Conversely, Anchors were common. Nearly every wizard in existence had the required magical strength to be an Anchor. While Draco knew that it was a high honor to serve a true Warden in a Dark Arts ritual, it was also something that every Anchor dreaded. It was a well-known fact that once an Anchor served a Warden in a proper ritual, that Anchor could no longer participate in Dark Arts rituals with substitute Wardens. In fact, it was rumored that an Anchor who served a true Warden in ritual would only ever be able to serve that one Warden.

If Draco had been able to resist the pull of Harry’s magic and the compulsion of his own, then he wouldn’t be in this mess. And a mess is exactly what it was. Many cursebreaking techniques required the use of Dark Arts rituals, and there was no guarantee that Harry would be willing to participate in the rituals in order to help Draco with his job. Draco had effectively diminished his capability as a cursebreaker, and that was unsettling, to say the least.

It was difficult to draw the courage necessary to go to Potter’s flat because Draco knew he was going to have to tell him. And then, if he had to, Draco would beg Potter to help him with his work. He didn’t have too much pride for that, although he postured like he did. It was all an illusion, serving to keep people from getting too close to him. That didn’t mean he liked to beg, of course. No, he hated it. But, as a Slytherin and a Malfoy, he would do whatever was required of him to get what he needed to succeed.
When the clock read ten-til-six, Draco pulled on his robes and steadied himself. No matter what happened tonight, he would get through it. Taking a deep breath, he pointed his wand at himself and used the apparition incantation, appearing a few feet outside of Harry’s wards. Squaring his shoulders, he forced himself to walk forward into wards that parted for his passage, then stopped at the door, trying to gather the courage to knock. Finding it, he raised his fist, but before it could land, the door burst open.

Harry stood in the doorframe, his green eyes livid. “Get in here,” he snapped. “You have some explaining to do.” He made enough room for Draco to pass.

Swallowing hard, Draco ducked through the small space Harry had left him and entered the flat. “What are you talking about?” he asked, wishing his heart would stop trying to climb into his throat. He had no idea why Harry was so upset, and he was certain that he hadn’t done anything to deserve the anger directed at him, but it was hard to deal with Harry when he was angry. The man’s ire turned him almost irrational.

Harry slammed the door and whirled around, waving his arms at the apartment. “Look at this mess! Ever since we did the ritual last week, nothing stays where it is supposed to.” He advanced on Draco, who surprised himself by managing to hold his ground. “Explain.”

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s an aftereffect of the ritual,” he said, managing to keep his own tone calm. He hesitated. “Your dark magic is…well, the best way I can put it…it’s playing.”

“Playing?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That was the first time you’ve ever grounded the excess dark magic you carry around, right?” Draco asked, despite knowing the answer – a testament to his nerves. At Harry’s nod and expectant look, he continued. “Well, that means your dark magic is back at the level it is supposed to be at, and it no longer feels like it is being suffocated by excess, so it is rejoicing.” Draco grimaced. “I suppose you think it’s weird to speak of magic as a sentient thing.”

Harry shook his head. “Not at all. I’ve seen too many weird things happen because of magic, sometimes my magic, to think that magic doesn’t have a mind of its own.” He glanced around his wrecked apartment, his previous anger completely gone. He grinned. “I guess if I had gotten free of suffocation, I’d be rejoicing a little too.” He turned to Draco. “How long will this last?”

Draco shrugged. “It really depends on how much you utilize the Dark magic you possess. If you don’t use it at all, then an excess will start to build up again, and things will go back to always staying in their place. Of course, you run the risk of leveling a city that way. If you use a little Dark magic every day, however, then it’s entirely possible that your magic will be content with that and won’t see the need to wreck your apartment.” His heart thudded in his chest. He wanted to tell Harry that he needed his help with his work, but something told him that it wasn’t the right time to ask.

Harry sighed. “All right,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’d developed in Hogwarts. Then, even though his anger was gone, his tone hardened as he looked at Draco. “Take a seat on the couch.”

Taken aback by the hard tone, Draco started to reply, “I-
Harry shook his head, indicating silence, and focused his magic at Draco. “Sit on the couch, Draco,” he said, pouring his magic towards the Slytherin.

Draco’s face went ashen and he nearly dashed to the couch to do as he had been ordered. His knees trembled as he sat. This was the power of a Warden who knew exactly what his power meant. Draco had half-counted on Harry’s ignorance of magical theory to get him through this ordeal, but it seemed the man had acquired quite a bit of knowledge in the past week.

Harry took a seat opposite Draco in his armchair. “Hermione sent me a book on Wardens and Anchors,” he said, by way of explanation. “It’s rather in-depth, of course, but this is Hermione we’re talking about.” He leaned forward. “When you offered me your submission last week, why did you neglect to mention that my acceptance of it formed a contract between us?”

Draco swallowed hard and focused on controlling his breathing. He didn’t know how to answer the question without pissing Harry off, and that was the last thing he wanted to do in this situation. He settled for a shrug.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, and Draco felt the weight of Harry’s magic tightening around his shoulders. “Answer the question, and answer it honestly.”

Draco nearly cried at the order – he couldn’t disobey Harry. That was the other risk inherent in initiating a Dark Arts ritual between an Anchor and a Warden – once an Anchor offered submission to a Warden, the Warden to whom it had been offered could claim it at any time. “If I had told you about the contract it formed between us, I was afraid that you would refuse to do the ritual, and the excess magic you were carrying around needed to be released before it killed someone. I didn’t want to take the risk that you wouldn’t release your magic.”

The compulsion around his shoulders loosened, and Draco sighed in relief. He hated the way it felt to be compelled, but he had accepted Harry’s right to compel him the moment he had acted as the man’s Anchor.

Harry sighed, almost in tandem. “You’re right,” he said. “If I hadn’t participated in that ritual, it is very likely that I would have ended up destroying something or hurting someone. So, for that, you have my gratitude. However,” he said, and here his tone turned hard again. “If you had told me the truth of the ritual, then I could have found another Anchor to take your place. An Anchor already bound to a Warden cannot be bound to a second, although they can participate as another Warden’s Anchor with the permission of their original Warden. With my fame, do you think there is anyone who would deny me that?”

Draco shook his head, too hurt to speak. Was Harry rejecting him as an Anchor? He clenched his fists at his sides. Why should he have expected anything different? He’d been a fool to think that Harry would appreciate the gift of his submission.

Harry sighed. “Instead, you bound us together and crippled yourself in the process. How many curses can you break without using a Dark Arts ritual, Draco? How many of the Dark Arts rituals required in cursebreaking skirt illegality? What were you even thinking when you offered me your submission? And yes,” he said. “I expect an answer.”

Draco swallowed, surprised when no compulsion forced him to reply. He had no doubt that the man in front of him would force it, if necessary, but, for now, Harry was saying that he respected Draco enough to give him a chance to answer without being forced to do so. “To answer your first question, very few curses can be broken without a Dark Arts ritual, and the rituals required in cursebreaking all skirt illegality. When I offered you my submission, I was thinking that I had finally found someone worthy of offering it too, and I was also thinking that I could finally pay you back for saving my life when we were at Hogwarts.” Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t thinking about how the contract that would form would affect my job or about whether or not I could get you to agree to do Dark Arts rituals to help me with work. In that moment, all I cared about was helping you.”

Harry stared at him for an uncomfortably long time before he broke the silence. “You know, every time I think I understand you, Draco, you surprise me. I feel like I barely know who you are.”

Draco shrugged. “Because you don’t,” he said. At Harry’s shocked look, he continued. “If you knew me, then you would never have offered me the insult of telling me that any other Anchor would have sufficed. I didn’t offer you my submission for you to ground it under your heel like a bug, Potter. And I won’t willingly participate in another ritual with you until you can prove to me that you understand the gift that it actually is.”

Harry frowned, forehead crinkling in puzzlement. “I don’t think you can withdraw your submission once it has been offered, Draco. And I also never said that I didn’t appreciate what you did. In fact, I’m fairly certain that I thanked you for keeping me from losing control of my magic.”

Draco sighed. “I can withdraw my willingness to submit, Harry. And that willingness is a required component for Dark Arts rituals if you don’t want them to go awry. And yes, you did thank me for helping you keep control of your magic. However, you didn’t show gratitude for my submission. The fact you think any other Anchor would have sufficed is proof enough of that.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m sorry I offered you insult with that line, as it wasn’t my intention. I wasn’t trying to imply that I didn’t appreciate your submission. I was trying to say that someone else’s submission would have been preferred so that you didn’t have to give up everything you’ve worked so hard to earn.”

Draco’s teeth clenched. “I’m not giving up anything,” he said, the words coming out in a near hiss. “I may be unable to do many of the Dark Arts rituals required for cursebreaking without your help, but I sure as hell know more about curses than anyone else in the Ministry. If I have to, I’ll work as a consultant rather than a cursebreaker, but I will continue down the path I’ve chosen. Now, you can work on translating the scrolls if you want. I’m going home. I’m tired of being insulted.”

“But I haven’t insulted –

Draco apparated before Harry could finish that sentence. He didn’t want to deal with the Gryffindor’s insensitivity any longer. In fact, he wasn’t sure he could.

The wards around the manor bristled, alerting Draco to the fact someone was coming in unannounced. He started to use the incantation that would make them hostile when Harry appeared in front of him and grabbed his wand hand. “Put it down,” he said, tone brooking no argument.

Draco lowered his wand hand, then looked at Harry morosely. “What do you want now?” he demanded. “Haven’t you done enough damage to my psyche for one night?”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and kicked at the air. “I’m sorry, all right?” he half-screamed. “I wasn’t trying to insult you, Draco. I was trying to be considerate. I can’t imagine you think it’s pleasant to have to rely on someone else for your work, and I was trying to be reasonable about it.”

Draco arched an eyebrow. “Reasonable behavior is far from what you’ve demonstrated tonight by following me into my house and nearly destroying my wards in the process. We both know you’re a powerful wizard, Harry, but you could try to be a little less crass with the way you use your power.”

Harry had the grace to look sheepish. “I don’t like fighting with my friends,” he said.

“I’m fairly certain that we’ve passed friendship and entered an entirely different realm,” Draco said. “Unless you also order your friends around and crash through their wards.” Now that he was back in his own home, Draco was regaining his sense of composure. Being confronted at Harry’s flat had completely thrown him off his game.

Harry scowled at him. “You know I don’t.”

“Do I?” Draco asked. “I’m fairly certain you’re the one who said you knew nothing about me. I think it’s safe to assume the opposite is true. Unless you think we should continue to base our judgments about each other on our school days, I would prefer to get to know the adult you.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’d like that, too. Also, what you said about the realm we’re in now, what did you mean?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I thought you read the book Granger gave you about Wardens and Anchors. Surely it told you what to expect?”

Harry shook his head. “It explained the power dynamic between Wardens and Anchors and the permissions required for certain types of rituals, but that was as far as it went.”

Draco flushed. “Well, the power dynamic between Wardens and Anchors often, but not always, ends up bringing people closer together. Many Warden-Anchor pairs become lovers.”

Harry stared at him. “Draco, three weeks ago, for the right reason, I might have flayed you alive.”

Draco flinched. That image was too close to the reality he’d lived through at the hands of Voldemort’s followers. “You wouldn’t now,” he said, his voice small.

“No, of course I wouldn’t,” Harry said. “But I’m not sure I’m willing to be your lover, either.”

Draco grit his teeth and forced himself to reply. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m sure you have plenty of love interests lining up at your door.” He took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height. “I was completely aware of what offering you my submission meant, Harry, including the fact that it might become sexual in nature. You accepted my submission, and you can have it, whenever you want, however you want, whenever you fully appreciate what it is I am giving you by submitting. Until then, anything you coerce from me, I’ll consider the equivalent of rape.”

Harry covered his mouth in horror, looking like he was about to be sick. “Draco, I would never force myself on you like that.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because, in my mind, you already have.”

Harry frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Draco held up a hand, ticking his fingers off as he went. “You forced me to sit on the couch, and you forced me to answer a question I didn’t want to answer. That’s twice you’ve forced my submission already rather than receiving it willingly.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “No,” he said. “I didn’t force that submission. Until you said you withdrew your willingness to submit, I had the right to it. Isn’t that what you said? And, both times you mentioned happened before you withdrew that willingness.”

Draco smirked. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not so squeamish you’ll take blame for what you haven’t done. And yes, you had my willing submission on both of those occasions.”

Harry nodded. “You like to test people,” he said.

Draco shrugged. It was pointless to deny the truth.

Harry sighed, then turned appraising eyes on Draco. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“That when I appreciate your submission, I have the right to it whenever and however I want it?”

Draco nodded.

Harry buried his face in his hands. “That’s overwhelming,” he said. “Why would you give all of that power to me?” he asked, voice small. “I’m not worth that.”

Draco snorted. “At the time, I thought you were worth it. An Anchor can only offer their complete submission once in a lifetime. Once. Wardens can accept submission from however many Anchors offer it to them, if they so choose.”

Harry covered his mouth with his hand, looking like he was going to be sick as the horror of what he had suggested finally dawned on him. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice soft. “I swear I didn’t know that, Draco. If I had, I never would have suggested I could have found another Anchor.”

Draco stared at him, eyes cold. “Forgive me for my lack of instant gratification that you’ve seen the error of your ways. You offered insult once. Where’s the proof you won’t offer me such an insult again?”

Harry sighed, frustrated. “I don’t even know if I like you, and you’re telling me the relationship we are bound together by now of Warden and Anchor may become sexual. How am I supposed to offer you proof that I won’t insult you when no one can offer that to anyone?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Harry, have you never heard of tokens of appreciation? You can offer me a token to show your appreciation of my submission and one to show your sincerity in your apology for offering me insult. The fact that I need to explain this to you is appalling beyond words.”

Harry frowned, lost in concentration. After a few minutes, he said, “Give me your wand hand, Draco.”

Draco arched an eyebrow at him. “No.”

Harry raised his own eyebrow. “If you’ll let me see your wand hand for a moment, Draco, I’ll give you a token of appreciation. Please.”

Draco couldn’t help it – he held out his hand to the other wizard. While he had intended to resist, there was something incredibly charming about the way the rough Gryffindor was trying to be considerate.

Harry held his wand to Draco’s wrist, closed his eyes, and began to incant a spell in Parseltongue.

Draco shivered as he listened to Harry speak the snake language, unable to prevent the immediate arousing effect it had on his body. There was something incredibly sexy about the dangerous air the snake language gave off when it was spoken, and, combined with Harry’s rough physique – well, Draco would be taking a long shower tonight, that was certain.

A few minutes later, Harry stopped chanting, and a solid black band had formed around the wrist of Draco’s wand hand. Draco stared at the band. “What is this?” he asked.

Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead before replying. “It’s a signal band,” he said. “There are two functions. It will alert you when there are deadly substances and spells near you, and you can also use it to alert me if you find yourself in danger.”

Draco was impressed in spite of himself. “How do I use it?” he asked.

“For the first function, it will change colors depending on how much danger you are in. It will stay black when you are in no danger. If it turns orange, you are in moderate danger. If it turns red, you are in severe danger, and if it turns green, you are in danger of dying. To alert me, all you need to do is tap your wand to the band and use the phrase ‘Ego sum reus,’ and I will be immediately aware. It’s also impervious to curses and being removed, which is why I cast the spell in Parseltongue.”

Draco stared at the black band around his wand hand. The significance of its placement was not lost on him. He had offered Harry his wand hand first, after all, and Harry had understood enough about the magic during the ritual not to take the blood necessary for the ritual from that hand. As a token of appreciation went, it was quite extravagant. It more than made up for the insult Harry had offered as well. In fact, staying mad at Harry after he had gifted Draco with such a wonderful token would be incredibly rude.

Draco swallowed hard and pushed his pride away. This band was proof that Harry valued his submission more than that of some random Anchor off the street. Harry had branded him. By placing a permanent band of ink around his arm that couldn’t be removed or cursed, Harry had marked Draco as his own Anchor. Draco used to have dreams of someday being marked by a Warden, but, like all the other Anchors he’d grown up with, it had only ever been a faraway dream. The reality was so much better.

Taking a deep breath, Draco forced himself to meet Harry’s gaze. Then, slowly and deliberately, he lowered himself to his knees in front of Harry. Then, going a step further, he bent forward at the waist and stretched his hands out in front of him, bowing his head. He kept that position for a minute, then raised himself back up to a kneeling position. When he did so, he raised his wand hand with tears in his eyes. “You honor me, Warden. Thank you for a gift equal in magnitude to the gift of my submission.”

Harry swallowed, clearly affected by having Draco on his knees in front of him. He squatted down and lifted Draco’s chin with one finger. “Am I forgiven then?” he whispered, as if he were afraid to hear the answer.

Draco smiled at him. “Yes, Harry. My submission is yours to do with as you please, and it is willingly given. Thank you.”

Harry smiled back. He tilted Draco’s head back as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do and leaned forward and claimed a gentle kiss. Once the kiss ended, he pulled back, obviously stunned by what he had just done. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I –

Draco laughed and laid his hand – his newly branded wand hand – on top of Harry’s hand. “Harry, you don’t need to apologize. Like I said before, you have my submission. Whenever, and however, you wish. Or are you too much of a Gryffindor to appreciate a gift?” Draco smirked.

Harry growled at the challenge and lunged forward. He wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him close before leaning down and claiming Draco’s lips in an assault that left the blonde gasping for breath when Harry pulled away. Harry gave Draco a smirk of his own, then reached down and squeezed the man’s erection gently. “Oh, I think I can appreciate a gift just fine,” he said. “But I do think you should remember who is in charge of this relationship, whatever type of relationship it may be.” With the full weight of his magic, he issued an order. “You can’t cum tonight, no matter how much you play with yourself.”

Draco shuddered as the order settled around him. “Yes, Warden,” he said. Then he glared at Harry. “You’re an evil, evil man,” he said. “If you don’t even know if you like me, how can you so easily issue orders about what I can and can’t do with my body?”

Harry shrugged. “We’re both adults, and we’re both currently single. I’m not saying that what we’re doing here is entering any sort of romantic relationship, but we both have needs, and I see no reason not to satiate those needs if we’re both willing participants.” He gave Draco’s erection another gentle squeeze, causing the blonde to gasp. “Of course, my needs are paramount to yours.” He grinned wickedly. “Now, I’m going to go home, have a nice pull, then go to bed.” Pushing his magic at Draco again, he said, “After I leave, You’re going to drive yourself to the brink of cumming constantly until midnight, then you’re going to stop, and go to bed. And with the magic binding you, you won’t be able to cum.”

Draco let out an undignified whimper. “Why?” he asked. “Why are you making me torture myself for you?”

Harry grinned. “Because I can,” he said. “After all, you did say whenever and however I wanted.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Or was that just bluster?”

Draco grimaced, accepting the blow. “I meant it,” he said. “If you want me to torture myself sexually, then I will, of course, do so happily, Warden.”

Harry grinned. “Good. Come over to my flat tomorrow morning around 8 a.m. We’ll have breakfast.”

Draco swallowed. “I don’t know if I will be in any shape to be around people tomorrow,” he said.

Harry shrugged. “It’ll just be the two of us there. Besides,” he said. “If you don’t show up, you won’t get to cum.”

Draco’s eyes flew open in surprise. “What do you mean? I thought that order was just for tonight.”

Harry grinned, then pushed his magic at Draco again. “You’re forbidden from cumming outside of my presence.”

Draco let out a frustrated whimper. “You, Harry Potter, are a pure sadist.”

Harry smirked at him, leaned forward for one last kiss, then apparated.

Draco groaned and tried to resist the compulsion that Harry had laid on him. He didn’t want to spend the next five hours rubbing himself raw without relief. To his consternation, the magic forced him to submit. He had to submit, especially since this order had been given when Draco had expressly said he was willing to submit however and whenever Harry desired.

Swallowing in trepidation, Draco apparated into his room and discarded his robes with a spell. Slicking himself up, he wrapped a hand around his cock and began to slowly slide it up and down. The order, however, had been to push himself to the brink over and over again, and the slow slide he was trying to do was not being tolerated by the magic compelling him. With a sob, Draco used all the speed he possessed to bring him to the brink – it took less than thirty seconds to get there. Once there, he tried to go over. Tried and failed.

Frustrated, he tried to reach orgasm again and again. Every time, he was obstructed. The order holding him back from orgasm – the two orders, actually – made it physically impossible for him to spill his seed. Draco tried everything he could think of to actually orgasm, but nothing worked. This was the price he paid. Even though Harry hadn’t voiced it, Draco knew that this order was partially punishment for the abysmal way Draco had behaved. He had accused Harry of using coercion when he hadn’t and then he had withdrawn his willingness to submit after offering it without reservation. Draco had behaved terribly, and this was a fitting punishment. Draco knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

Within an hour, his cock was so sore he could barely handle touching it without wanting to scream. So he did the only sensible thing and cast a healing charm, grateful that he was a wizard and could heal chafed skin with a simple incantation – one that even he could manage wandlessly. He also refreshed the muscles in his arms with a quick spell so that he would be able to keep working towards an orgasm he knew he would never reach for the next four hours. If nothing else, Draco had to admit that Harry knew exactly the best way to punish him.

By the time ten rolled around, Draco was sobbing openly in desperation. He wanted to cum so badly he couldn’t stand it, and he still had two hours left. His vision was blurry with tears. How was he ever going to get through this? He wanted to stop, but he couldn’t – the order bound him too tightly. He couldn’t even have a ruined orgasm because he couldn’t reach that point. The magic binding him wouldn’t allow it. His body was nothing but nerve endings on fire, now. Draco didn’t know how he was going to survive.

When midnight finally arrived, Draco pulled his hands away from his cock and sobbed in a mix of relief and frustration. Finally, he would get to sleep, but it wouldn’t be restful. Not after spending five hours coming so close to an orgasm and losing it. He knew, though, that he would never again accuse Harry of coercion or withdraw his willing submission from his Warden. This wasn’t a punishment he ever wanted to experience again.

Draco healed himself, then slept fitfully for a few hours, waking at 6 and lazing around in bed until 7. Remembering what Harry had said about breakfast, he got dressed and headed to Harry’s, arriving at 8. The wards parted for him, and he didn’t bother knocking when he reached the door. There were no longer the same barriers between him and Harry that there had been before.

Harry met him in the kitchen and smirked. “You look exhausted,” he said, then nodded. “It’s a good look on you.”

Draco whimpered low in his throat, not wanting to provoke Harry this early in the morning.

“I made pancakes,” Harry said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You can cook?”

Harry snorted. “Of course I can cook. And, for that comment, you can eat breakfast naked.” No compulsion followed the statement – he just looked at Draco expectantly.

Draco swallowed. This was the real test of his submission. When Harry gave orders the weight of his magic, Draco couldn’t disobey. But Draco had promised Harry his submission whenever and however the man wanted it, and that meant without the compulsion behind the orders if Harry didn’t want to use it. “Yes, Warden,” he said. Feeling slightly self-conscious, he unbuttoned his robes and stepped out of them, taking a moment to lay them neatly on a chair. He hadn’t bothered wearing underwear – the skin of his cock was still too sensitive for that, and his cock refused to do anything but stay fully erect after the torment he’d put it through last night.

Harry nodded his approval. “Let me make it clear now – you can only cum in my presence when I give you permission to do so. Otherwise, you are to assume that you don’t have permission.” He lent weight to this order.

Draco wanted to sob, but didn’t quite dare. “Yes, Warden,” he said.

“Good. Now, let’s eat. If you manage to entertain me well enough during breakfast, I’ll let you take care of your problem.”

Draco swallowed. “Entertain?” he asked, picturing himself kneeling between Harry’s legs and sucking the man off. That did not help his erection go down – if anything, it made it firmer.

Harry laughed as he noticed the twitch in Draco’s cock. “Not like that. I just mean keep me entertained by providing me with interesting conversation. Afterwards, I’ll decide what to do about your problem, then we’ll work on the scrolls.”

Draco stared at Harry in amazement. “We?” he asked, barely daring to breathe.

Harry nodded. “We,” he said. “I think, considering everything that has happened in the last week, that you have more than earned the right to stick around while I translate the scrolls. In fact, I took the next week off work at the store in order to get these translated. I’ll expect you to be here every day. In fact, I went ahead and made up the guest room. I have a feeling you may be needing it.”

Draco swallowed. “I – thank you,” he said. He was amazed. Finally, Harry was seeing past the Draco Malfoy of Hogwarts to the real man underneath.

Harry nodded an acknowledgment. “So,” he said. “Tell me how you got into cursebreaking.”

By the time Draco finished relating that particular story, they had both finished breakfast. Draco glanced at Harry hopefully, but didn’t try to push for a decision. Even though he was desperate to cum, he had a sneaking suspicion that trying to push Harry into any decision was a bad idea.

“Okay,” Harry said. “Let’s move to the couch. I think I’ve decided what we’re going to do about your problem.”

Draco followed Harry without speaking, wondering and dreading what the decision was that Harry had reached.

Harry sat down on one end of the couch and motioned Draco to the other end. “Lay down so that your cock is pointed in my direction. You’re going to give me a show.”

Draco flushed, wishing that Harry would use his compulsion. Instead, Draco found himself having to rely on his own commitment to his submission to obey Harry’s orders. Once he was laying down, he wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stroke as fast as he could, used to the blistering pace the magic had required from him last night.

“Go as slow as you can,” Harry said, using his magic to turn the order into a compulsion.

Letting out a frustrated whimper, Draco’s fast strokes turned into agonizingly slow ones. Even as sensitized as he was from last night, it was going to take a long time to get anywhere near an orgasm.

Harry grinned as if sensing this. “Let me know when you get close,” he said. Then he stripped off his own robes and underwear, allowing Draco to see him in all his glory. He lay back against the other side of the couch and began to stroke himself with fervor. His eyes gleamed as he read the desperation in Draco’s eyes, the wish to move as fast as Harry himself was moving. When Harry got fairly close, he stopped moving his hand and watched Draco’s agonizing slow pursuit towards orgasm. “Okay,” he said. “Keep stroking your cock, but come over here and use your mouth to get me off.” He lent the weight of compulsion to that order because he knew how hard it was to do both at once.

Draco groaned and crawled awkwardly across the couch, his wand hand constantly stroking his cock in the agonizing slow motion that Harry had enforced. Once he was situated in front of Harry, he took the man’s cock in his mouth and began slowly teasing Harry with his tongue.

Harry curled his fingers in Draco’s hair and jerked him off his cock, enjoying the shocked flush that spread cross Draco’s face. “Don’t tease,” he said. “Just suck. I want to cum in the next minute.”

Draco nodded his understanding even as a look of pure frustration passed through his eyes. He bent to his task and had Harry cumming down his throat in the time he’d been allotted. He smacked his lips as he sat back, letting out a groan as he finally started to approach the precipice of orgasm with his stroking.

“Move your hand,” Harry said. “You can stop stroking for a minute.”

Draco obeyed.

Harry pushed Draco back on the couch and took Draco’s cock in his mouth. He did what Draco had started to do, and teased the blonde mercilessly with his tongue. Draco cried out in pure frustration as Harry pulled off his cock after the blonde told Harry he was close to orgasm.

Harry was solemn as he spoke, but there was a mischievous glint in his eye. “You have to earn the right to cum down my throat,” he said. “I don’t know if you’ve earned that right. What do you think, Draco?”

Draco sobbed. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me, Harry,” he cried. “Please, Warden, just please let me cum. It hurts so much.”

Harry hummed in satisfaction as he put his mouth around Draco’s cock again, knowing fully that the man couldn’t cum without permission – there would be no accidents here. Magic was a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Harry took Draco to the brink over and over again with his mouth, continuing the torture he had instigated last night. He wanted it drummed into Draco that he only got to cum when Harry decided to let him and not before. He wanted it drilled into Draco that cumming was a privilege and not a right, and that his body did not belong to him anymore.

Eventually, Draco stopped sobbing, and his gaze was focused solely on Harry. He stopped begging and accepted the continued assault on his cock without complaining. A whimper here and there was the only indication Harry had that Draco was still desperate for release.

Harry leaned down and whispered in Draco’s ear, “The next time you hit the brink with my mouth on your cock, you may cum down my throat.”

Before Draco could reply, Harry swallowed his cock and pushed him to the brink, and, within seconds, Draco was spilling his cum down Harry’s throat. Harry sat back and nodded in satisfaction. “Good boy,” he said.

Draco was too spent to protest the affection. All he wanted to do now was sleep. But there was something more important – something he needed to do if he wanted to stay in Harry’s good graces. With shaking arms and legs, he forced himself into a kneeling position on the couch. “Thank you for your generosity, Warden,” he said.

Harry smiled. “You earned it,” he said. “Now, let’s go see what we can do with those scrolls.”

Chapter Ten      Index     Chapter Twelve

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