Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Beneath a Shattered Fountain ❯ Rare Reward ( Chapter 8 )

Rare Reward

For the next few days, Draco spent most of his time either in bed with his master or locked up. Each morning, Harry kissed him and used him, then escorted him across the room, helping him step inside the golden cage and going so far as to hold his hand as he turned and sat down on the cushions. Unlike before, Harry didn't leave the cage open, trusting only in Draco's submission to keep him inside. Now a heavy padlock sealed the door. Draco knew better than to complain, but he often rested his head against the bars and wished he was on the floor at his master's feet.

He knew why he was locked safely away, of course. Harry was afraid that his family might try to spirit him out of the castle, or worse, Draco might try to escape and join them himself. His chains were kept short, his wrists locked barely an inch from his throat, and he was never out of Harry's grip. He wasn't allowed to work on maps anymore, and he wondered if Harry thought that his slave might plant false information about old ruins in some sort of escape attempt. Harry frequently examined his thoughts now, ransacking every stray thought like a paranoiac determined to find any hint of betrayal. Despite the fact that he never found anything beside love and fear, his distrust didn't ease. Draco wasn't even allowed to read to pass the time.

If nothing else, the confined space was helping train his wings to hold still, but because he was so anxious, they shuddered or flared with the slightest noise, often bumping against the bars.

The elf's pop by Harry's desk didn't startle him, however. He couldn't tell time today since thick clouds covered the sun, but the little clock on Harry's desk read noon. Around this time, an elf would bring them lunch. It was the only break in the day's monotony.

Without a word, the elf disappeared again, leaving behind a plate full of slices of apples, oranges and other fruit. Draco pressed against the cage and watched Harry pick up the plate and scoot his chair closer. Taking an apple slice between his fingers, Harry leaned over and raised the fruit to Draco's lips, feeding him through the bars.

As Draco ate, Harry reached into the cage and stroked his hair, brushing his fingers against his veela's cheek. Once Draco swallowed, he raised his head and waited patiently for another slice, closing his eyes as Harry's fingertips circled his lips. His master's hand slipped under his chin, trailing down to grasp his collar. Harry rarely pulled him by his chains, but he seemed fascinated by the steel contrasting with Draco's skin.

"They don't hurt, do they?" Harry asked, running his fingers along the inside the collar. The skin there wasn't even red.

Draco shook his head. "They're heavy, but they don't drag. These kind of chains were made so they wouldn't leave marks."

"Mm." Harry drew his hand back and took another slice of fruit. This time when Draco leaned forward, Harry touched the cool apple's edge against his veela's lip, leaving a moist trail along the edges of Draco's mouth before letting him have it. Draco's tongue licked at the tips of his fingers, curling slightly around them before turning his attention to eating again.

"So you could wear them forever?"

"I..." The sudden question made him choke. His wings fluttered and a few tiny down feathers fell to the floor. He looked up, hoping to see Harry smirking, amusing himself with Draco's emotions. But Harry looked serious.

"If I took care of you," Harry continued, "you could stay locked up and it wouldn't hurt you."

Harry's tone that told Draco why he was asking. Harry never found thoughts or memories in Draco's head about plans to escape, but at the same time, he didn't understand why his slave wouldn't try to escape. Harry couldn't understand how someone could willingly give themselves up, and give themselves up to pain and fear no less, out of love or sheer devotion. But that's what Malfoys were best at.

"They hurt more than you know," Draco whispered, meeting his eyes. "But if that's the only way to stay with you, then yes, I could wear them forever."

Harry stared at him for a moment, then stood and walked to the other side of the room with his back to Draco, staring at the gilded candles and jeweled bottles and other knick-knacks he'd arranged along the wall. Afraid to catch his attention, Draco held still so as not to make his chains rattle. He didn't feel the familiar rage of one of Harry's attacks, but in a way, this anxiety and paranoia was even worse. Living with his master's moods was exhausting. He didn't want to imagine how it felt for Harry.

A few minutes went by. Harry walked back and sat down again, ignoring Draco as he buried himself in whatever work lay on his desk. Draco glanced at their remaining lunch, but Harry showed no sign of remembering that neither of them had eaten breakfast. Even if Draco could have reached through his cage, he was too anxious to make a sound.

Neither of them spoke again until the sun started to sink and Harry had to light a few candles on his desk to keep working. By now the whole room was dark with only the handful of soft flames kept a little glow around the desk, all of them flickering and threatening to go out whenever the wind blew through the room. Draco wondered why Harry hadn't properly charmed the windows to keep out the elements. Usually it didn't matter if a little rain or wind got in because he'd be snuggled up in Harry's arms under warm blankets, but his cage offered no protection from the wind. He hoped that once they were speaking to each other like normal people again, he might convince him to retouch the wards.

He curled up as best he could on his cushion, but it was impossible to wrap his wings around himself. As the evening grew colder, he closed his eyes and wished Harry would stop working and take him to bed. He didn't mind going to bed hungry as long as he was warm.

At last Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. He dropped his quill across whatever he was reading and glanced at his veela, watching him shiver for a few seconds.

"Why?"

Draco tilted his head. "Why what?"

"The Draco Malfoy I knew in school would never have given up like this. He never would've let me put him in chains."

As cold and hungry as he was, Draco couldn't help a small smile. "I hadn't fallen in love with you, yet."

Harry narrowed his eyes but he didn't answer. Instead he unlocked the cage and grabbed the chain between Draco's wrists, leading him out and back to bed.

Unlike other nights, however, Harry didn't let him crawl into bed. Holding him by the chain link connected to his collar, Harry turned him around and let him sit on the edge of the mattress. Draco frowned in confusion but didn't say anything. Every other night, Harry positioned him on his hands and knees or kneeling or on his stomach, however his master wanted him that night.

"I got something for you," Harry said, running his hand along Draco's wing. It trembled but didn't tighten against his back, trained to trust Harry's touch.

"A present?" Draco whispered. He knew better than to hope, but his master wanted a reply.

"Mm, not really." Harry reached into his robe and drew out a jumble of delicate silver chains. "But they're pretty anyway."

Harry stretched the chains, both only a few inches long, over his veela's thigh, and Draco noticed small clasps on the ends like little manacles. Although he had to crane his neck, he watched Harry take the first one and push the clasp open, then clamp it on the thin bone of his wing. Held in place by tiny springs, Draco didn't even feel it.

"Pull your wing in," Harry ordered.

Once the other long bone of the wing was in reach, Harry attached the clasp. Now Draco understood what it was. Shaped like miniatures of his wrist shackles, the thin chain forced his wing to stay folded.

While Harry added the second chain to his other wing, Draco tested the first both out of curiosity and because he knew his master would want to see them work. His wing extended enough that it wouldn't cramp, but after a few inches, the chain snapped tight.

Although no magic held them shut, only simple clasps, Draco had no wand and no way of reaching back and removing them. Harry gave each one a tug to make sure they wouldn't slip off, then stepped back to look him over.

"There," he whispered. "Now you can't fly away."

As if they could bear his weight. As if he never looked into his mind searching for betrayal. Draco raised his head and met his master's look, only to have Harry glance aside.

"Harry--?"

"We're not done yet." Harry looked back at him, his mouth set in a firm line as if he expected an argument. "Lay down."

Furrowing his brow in confusion, Draco started to obey, turning to face the pillows.

"No. On your back."

He knew better than to question an order when there was steel in Harry's voice, but he froze despite himself. When he didn't move, Harry grabbed his shoulders and started to push him back. Draco's wings flared, fighting the chains. He panicked, trying to pull his hands down, to open his wings, anything. Without his hands loose, he couldn't even put his arms down to hold himself.

"They'll break!" he yelled, squeezing his eyes shut. "Harry, stop! They'll snap!"

"They won't," Harry said, his voice softening. He paused, holding Draco a few inches off the mattress. "Calm down."

"They'll break, they'll break--" Draco bit his lip and his body jerked as he sobbed.

"They won't break," Harry repeated. "You said you've slept on them before, when Voldemort hurt you so much you couldn't move. They didn't break then and they won't break now."

Although Harry waited a long while for Draco to calm down, he didn't raise him back up. Tonight he was going to break him of having to sleep on his stomach. Too many people wanted to kill him and he couldn't risk having Draco draped on top of him during an attack. Not only would his veela slow him down, but he didn't want Draco so close that he risked being caught by a hex meant for him.

Once Draco's wings stopped spasming, Harry lowered him onto the bed. The thin bones didn't break, and as he whispered softly in Draco's ear, each wing relaxed and spread out slightly, feathers settling in a curved shape. Harry ran his fingers over the top of his wings, easing them flat on the mattress and then curling the tips forward, demonstrating just how flexible they were.

"You see?" He smoothed Draco's hair back and brushed his eyelids, coaxing them open. "All that fuss for nothing."

Draco opened his eyes, but he kept his gaze focused on the pillows beside him. His heart still pounded and he wanted to sit up. It felt strange, not uncomfortable but awkward and he wanted to get up right now. Harry's hand on his chest kept him down, and after he tried to push up once, he accepted that his master wasn't going to let him and relaxed. He received a kiss for his obedience.

"Poor thing," Harry said. "I can feel your heart racing. You were really scared, weren't you?"

A whimper.

"Such a good veela. You're learning to trust me. Slowly, but you're learning." Harry gave him another kiss, then sat straight, sliding his hand down Draco's stomach. "I think you've earned a reward."

Not knowing what Harry was doing until his hand reached between his legs, Draco gasped as his master bent over him and drew his tongue down his shaft. After so long serving without receiving any satisfaction, Draco responded immediately, growing hard and groaning with each stroke until Harry took him in his mouth. The night was cold but Harry burned, scorching whatever skin he touched. Draco would have blushed at how humiliatingly fast he came if he could've thought of anything but the orgasm that crashed through him.

Shuddering with each pulse, he grit his teeth as every nerve in his body ignited for one instant. It was his first climax since his veela blood asserted itself and now it turned white hot in his veins, making his body tense up so much he thought he would snap. Harry drank it all into himself, holding him still until Draco fell, spent, his eyes wide and staring at nothing as his head fell back.

After such intense sensation, the world turned dark and quiet. Draco felt Harry climb into bed next to him and pull the blankets up. Too relaxed to care that Harry had settled on his wing, he blinked as his face was cupped and turned to meet his master's lips.

"No," Harry murmured. "You'll never leave me. Never."

Already close to sleep, Draco's last conscious thought was that tonight, Harry was draped over him, one leg over his, clinging the same way he had the first night when he cried himself to sleep.

TBC...