(fic) HP -- Wings Eclipsing Night pt.2; HP/DM
Wings Eclipsing Night
Part 2: Angel on a Leash
by KC
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry, Draco and all the rest; they'd do a lot more stuff than they do in the books and it'd all be rated R through X. Alas, however, I do not.
Other info: Post-HBP, dark!Harry, veela!Draco. Yes, there is sexxors in here, but not that much.
Part 1: Beneath a Shattered Fountain
Harry set Draco down on the floor of what used to be the Hogwarts' prefects bathroom but was now his personal bathing pool. At first Draco did not recognize it. The mermaid's window lay in pieces on the floor and dark black scorch marks covered the walls. Someone had fought for his life here, he thought.
One by one, Harry turned several faucets on, filling the large tub with water and adding different colored bubbles. Draco watched him bend over each faucet, his green eyes lighting up as he played with the settings. For someone who had slaughtered his enemies, Harry looked like a child at Christmas. But then Harry turned and looked at him, and Draco felt the same wave of fear he had when he first stared up at him while helpless under the Ministry's broken fountain.
"Come on," he said, holding one hand out. "Let's get that mud off you."
The command was gentle and kind, but Draco recognized it as a command all the same. With a small nod, he crawled the short distance towards Harry and took his hand, slipping into the pool with him. The warm water came up to his chest and as the chill left his body, his wings relaxed and drooped down below the water. He groaned and lowered his head.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, pausing as he grabbed some soap.
Draco nodded and kept his eyes on the water in front of him. "My wings...it hurts to move them but the water feels good."
"Oh, that's right." Harry slowly made his way around and behind him, brushing his fingers over the wet feathers. "This one was crushed under a rock. Can you move it?"
The water rippled as Draco lifted his wings halfway out of the water. Harry ran his hand over the hurt wing, his fingers following the contours of the slender bones. The wing shuddered and stilled in his hand as it became used to his touch.
"It's...it's not bleeding, is it?" Draco asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"No, it's fine. You just lost a few feathers here." Harry smiled and ran a finger between Draco's shoulder blades. "Can you reach your wings?"
"No. Just the tips. They're too far back for me--" He winced and pushed his hands to his mouth as Harry grasped one of them firmly and held it still.
"Then I guess I'll have to wash them for you," he said.
Draco tried to glimpse him behind his back, but he couldn't crane his neck far enough and what he could see was blocked by the edge of his wing. With his hands still up against his mouth, he closed his eyes and hissed slightly as Harry rinsed the mud and dirty fountain water from his feathers, gently kneading the thin muscles as they trembled.
"Can you fly with these?" Harry asked. "They seem so fragile."
"I can't," Draco whispered. "They're too weak."
"So you only look like an angel," Harry said with a smile. "Good. Then I don't have to clip them."
"'Clip'?" Draco turned so suddenly that his wing slid out of Harry's grip. As he backed away a step, he was startled to see that he stood a few inches over Harry. The Boy Who Lived projected a much bigger presence than his real height.
"Yes, clip," Harry said. His smile didn't diminish but it turned cold. "You belong to me. You think I'd give you a chance to fly away?"
"But...but..." Draco backed away, slipping unsteadily. "I wouldn't--" He stumbled into the water, struggling to keep his head up as he floundered. A moment later he felt the pool's edge against his back and stopped, cringing as Harry came closer.
"Don't be scared," Harry murmured, looming over him. He ran a hand through his veela's wet hair and brushed a little excess water from his face. When he spotted a tear slipping from Draco's eye, he bent and kissed it away. "I try not to break my toys."
"Please..." Draco whispered, closing his eyes. "Don't hurt me."
"I won't," Harry said. He put an arm beneath Draco's back and pulled him up, showering little kisses on his face. "I'm not the kind that likes to break pretty things."
"I promise I won't try to run away," Draco said, still too scared to open his eyes.
"A Malfoy promise," Harry said with a little laugh. "Some day you'll earn my trust, perhaps some day soon. But not yet."
"What are you going to--?"
"Chains, of course," Harry said matter of factly, tracing his finger around Draco's throat. "Very light chains, I think. You're much thinner than before. I wouldn't want to leave any marks on you."
"But--"
"And I'll lock you up somewhere. Maybe the old astronomy tower. That would make a nice little birdcage."
"Here?" Draco asked. "At Hogwarts?"
"I always liked it here. And Hermione said it'd be the best place since we destroyed almost everything else." With one more kiss, Harry pulled him back to his feet and gently turned him around again. "Now hold still this time."
His hands pressed against his mouth, Draco quietly stood still as Harry washed his wings and wondered what had happened since he'd escaped from Voldemort. Harry hadn't asked him how he'd managed to get away or how he'd killed all those Death Eaters on his own, and he knew he'd have to have answers for him sooner or later, but he was afraid of letting him know just how powerful or manipulative a veela's attraction could be. If he knew he'd driven Bellatrix and the rest of the dark wizards to such an insane jealousy that they killed each other--
A kiss at the base of his neck startled him. Harry put his arms around his waist and drew him back against his chest, putting his hands over Draco's nipples and rubbing his palms against them as they grew hard.
"What was that spell again?" Harry whispered, his breath cool on Draco's ear. "The one that makes it easier for you?"
"A-aise entre," Draco stammered.
After casting the spell, Harry's hands moved down to his hips and slipped between his thighs, prodding them open. At the same time Harry leaned forward, forcing Draco to lean against the pool's edge, hands on the cold stone floor. Harry even put one hand on Draco's head and slowly forced his cheek to the stone. From this angle Draco saw the light reflecting off the shattered glass of the mermaid window and the jagged edge of her lower face, her mouth still caught in a wide O of surprise.
"Why did you smash her?" he whispered.
"Hm?" Harry paid little attention to what his veela was saying, too enthralled by how soft his skin felt, running his fingers along the inside of Draco's thighs, forcing them wider. "The mermaid? I had to kill Arthur in here, and she wouldn't stop screaming."
Draco winced as Harry positioned himself and then thrust into him, biting his lip as he curled his fingers into the cracks in the floor. His waterlogged wings fluttered uselessly, dragging on his back, and he cried out when Harry grabbed both wings at their thickest point, where the bones disappeared into his shoulders, the tiny down feathers bunching under his fingers. It felt like Harry would rip them out of his back but he never pulled that hard, never clenched his hands so tight that Draco feared they would snap. As Harry thrust faster, Draco brought one hand to his mouth, trying to muffle his groans. Little handfuls of bubbles crested up over his shoulders and along his neck, tossed into the air with Harry's rhythm. At last Harry pushed in deep and trembled, holding him tight, and finally sighed and slumped on top of him, panting for breath.
"Mmmm...I could do this all day," Harry whispered. When he didn't get a response, he glanced down and smiled, brushing the hair from Draco's eyes. "Tired already? We have so much more to do today, though."
With a final kiss on the back of his neck, Harry leaned off him and stood up, making sure he was clean before he came out of the pool and dried off. He looked at his feet where Draco lay still, eyes shut, mouth slightly open.
"You look like a half-drowned bird," he said. "Come on, get up here."
Obeying as fast as he could, which wasn't fast because his body felt like lead, Draco pushed himself straight and brought his wings entirely out of the water, stretching them high. Rivulets streamed off his feathers and down his hair for a few seconds, but they were still so heavy with excess water that he couldn't pull himself up. Without thinking, he raised his hand to Harry for help before realizing Harry might resent that kind of demand.
Bemused by the fright that flashed over his veela's face, Harry took his hand and helped him out of the pool, pulling him straight into a kiss. He heard a startled "mmph" and then Draco froze for a moment before relaxing, tentatively putting his hands on Harry's shoulders. When Harry put his hands around Draco's waist, drawing him against his own body, his wet wings moved to curl around him. Smiling, Harry broke from Draco, giving him a few small kisses at the corners of his mouth before he drew away.
"Do your wings take a long time to dry?" he asked.
"I don't know," Draco said, watching him towel off again. "They were never wet before. Except when they first came out, but then the dark lord scourgified them."
"Scourgify?" Harry asked. "What for?"
"Blood," Draco said. "They were pretty messy when they came out."
"Well, I think we can let them dry before we go out again." Harry finished dressing and extended his hand, satisfied when Draco took it immediately. "I'll get you some clothes, something you can wear around those wings perhaps. And then we'll see what kind of chains we can find."
Lowering his head, Draco wrestled with himself before speaking, but he decided that if he wanted Harry to trust him, he'd have to resign himself to his whims. "There's...there's a shop in Knockturn Alley. It specializes in things like that."
"Really?" Harry's eyes widened a little. "You know where it is?"
Draco nodded. Instead of saying anything else, Harry started walking, tugging him after. Following Harry out of the bathroom and into the hall, Draco looked around for fear of being seen, but the school was empty. He kept close to his master, feeling extremely vulnerable walking around naked. As Harry took him downstairs, Draco saw evidence of the war all around him, black scorches and blasted masonry on the walls and ceiling, sections blown away from the staircases, and every portrait in the school was empty.
"You said..." he started, waiting for Harry's raised eyebrows and curious look to tell him it was all right to ask questions, "..that you killed Arthur Weasely?"
"Had to be done," Harry said, sounding a little sad. "He absolutely refused to let me destroy Scrimgeour and the aurors. I think he even wanted to let everyone in the Ministry live."
"But...what about his family?" Draco asked. "His children?"
"Ron didn't want to do it," Harry said. "But he knew we didn't have a choice, so he just asked me to make sure his father didn't suffer. You better not mention it to him, though. Don't bring up his mum, either. Or Tonks. Or...you know what? Don't say anything to him."
Draco nodded. They finally came out the front entrance, one of which lay on the ground and the other hung from broken hinges. His wings tightened against his back and he shivered. The air was cool, but his damp wings felt icy. "Where are we going?"
"Hogsmeade," Harry said, turning around and putting his arms around him. "I just wanted to be outside when we went."
Draco stiffened, shaking his head quickly. "But people will see me!"
"I don't think so," Harry grinned. "Everyone's hiding right now. There wasn't a soul in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley the last time I was there. Now hold still."
With a sharp crack like lightning, they vanished again, reappearing in front of Gringotts. Draco stared in all directions, gasping at the damage throughout Diagon Alley. Cracked and blown apart in some places, many of the buildings smoldered and a few were still burning. Blood stains and scorch marks lined the street, but there were no bodies or even stray wands. A sharp pull on his hand made him turn and follow Harry into Knockturn Alley, past a lamppost bent in half.
"You missed most of the fighting," Harry said. "It was really bad here, Death Eaters and aurors dying all over the place. It looks like Ron and the twins cleaned it up pretty well, though. I wonder if they're cleaning Hogsmeade now. So, where was this shop you mentioned?"
"Um...de Rais' Playthings...it's a couple doors down from Borgin & Burkes." He shied away from an unidentifiable dark stain on the street and yelped when a few shingles knocked loose during the fighting finally came crashing down and shattered a few feet away.
"It's all right," Harry said, winding his arm around Draco's waist and holding him close. "No one will hurt you as long as I'm around. Ah, here it is."
The door had been destroyed so they walked into the darkened shop, and Harry cast a lumos spell to light their way. He frowned when he saw the rows of porcelain dolls on the shelves. "This isn't what I wanted."
"Downstairs," Draco said quickly. "These are for children. The things for adults are downstairs."
With a suspicious look, Harry followed him anyway to the back of the shop, and noticed that there was indeed a narrow staircase hewn out of the ground. Holding Draco's hand so he wouldn't fall, Harry went downstairs and came into a dark chamber. Strange shapes glimmered as his light hit them, but he couldn't see them clearly. When he finally noticed the candles along the wall and lit them, he gasped despite himself.
"Dark wizards are kinky as hell," he whispered, looking over the vast array of manacles, potions with strange names like Thestral's Tease, and clothes that looked more like costumes. He left Draco by the door and went to examine a white garment that immediately caught his eye. Taking it off its hanger, he examined it with a growing smile. Meant to go with fake wings to imitate an angel, the shirt had no back, just a few strings on the sides to close it, with a tunic-shaped bottom that snapped in back. Perfect, because he didn't want his veela wearing anything that he had to struggle to get off him.
"Come here," he ordered, undoing all the strings and snaps as Draco obeyed. Harry held the outfit up and helped Draco get his arms through the tiny sleeves, then turned him around and tied the strings, running his hand once over Draco's bottom so that he breathed in sharply before finally snapping everything tight. When he was done, the white wings moved easily around the cloth.
"Now for shoes..." Harry thought, looking back over the shelves. He ignored most of them since they were almost all in gaudy colors like gold or bright pink or shiny black, but he found a pair of tan sandals that had been shunted to the back. Kneeling, he drew them out and turned back to Draco, tapping his left foot so that he raised it and slid it in, holding still as Harry did up the long laces. As Harry worked, he looked up and saw Draco looking at him in confusion. "What's wrong?"
"The dark lord, he never would have done this for me," he said softly. "Why are you...after everything you've done...?"
Harry finished the other sandal before answering, standing up and staring into Draco's eyes for a long time. The gleam in his green eyes faded and for a moment he looked not like the Boy Who Destroyed the Ministry but simply like Harry. "Whatever else I am," he murmured, "I'm not the dark lord. I know you don't understand what's going on yet -- it was bad, Draco, and it's going to be bad for awhile. Things have to change, but I promise I haven't done anything that didn't have to be done. Just trust me for awhile. You'll see what I'm doing is right."
Still confused, Draco just nodded. "I...I'll trust you, then." He half-smiled and looked away. "Even if you don't trust me yet."
"Well, you can hardly blame me," Harry said, raising his hand and brushing Draco's cheek with his knuckles. "You're a lying, tricky Malfoy and growing a pair of wings doesn't change that. I don't like things I can't trust. I might not have saved you out of the Ministry except..." He breathed out and reached up, running his fingers through Draco's hair and then farther up along his wing. "I do like pretty things."
Draco watched the gleam came back into Harry's eyes. At least Harry knew what he was, but perhaps Voldemort had known what he was. Who knew how early the dark lord had chosen his path? Perhaps in terms in dark lords, Harry was a late bloomer.
"Just promise me you won't be another V-V-V...dark lord," he said a little lamely.
"I promise." He lightly touched the tunic that hid the evidence of Voldemort's affection on Draco's skin, the lingering scratches and deep welts on his stomach. "I won't be like him."
Harry drew him to the last section, gazing over the myriad restraints laid out for his choosing. There were heavy black manacles, thin gold links, pieces that looked more like jewelry and some chains that were so twisted and convoluted that he didn't think he'd know how to lock them on. He settled on a pair of simple silver manacles, somewhat lightweight so they wouldn't bruise his veela, but as he picked them up, he found that the chain between them also had a chain connected to a silver collar. That worked fine, too, he thought. He opened the manacles with a click and held them up.
"Go on," he said.
Looking once at the chains and then at Harry, Draco winced but he didn't argue. Slowly, as if afraid the manacles would snap shut with crushing power, he put his hands out and set his wrists inside. As his skin touched the metal, the manacles closed again with a soft click. Now Harry raised the collar and put it around his neck, and the click behind his head sounded like a solid note of finality. He tested the chains, pulling at them to see if they'd break, but he quickly gave up and let his hands hang in front of him.
"I'll take these off someday," Harry said, sliding his hand up the chain at his throat and grasping it firmly, pulling him down a few inches for a kiss. "You'll see. You'll learn to like being mine."
Dressed in an outfit meant more for easy access than comfort and held in check by chains that only responded to Harry's touch, Draco wasn't so sure, but he kept his reservations to himself. The shock of his rescue and sudden enslavement was starting to wear off, and he started to wonder if and how he could improve his standing both in this new world the Gryffindors seemed bent on creating and in Harry's eyes alone. If his inherent magic really was affecting Harry, then it might also be affecting Draco himself, because he found those green eyes mesmerizing, and he felt safer around him even if he was a burgeoning dark lord. With a little resignation and a lot of hope, he followed Harry upstairs and out of the shop, back into the light where he stretched his wings wide, beating them in the air softly as he became more accustomed to their weight.
TBC...
Next: Wings Underfoot
Part 2: Angel on a Leash
by KC
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry, Draco and all the rest; they'd do a lot more stuff than they do in the books and it'd all be rated R through X. Alas, however, I do not.
Other info: Post-HBP, dark!Harry, veela!Draco. Yes, there is sexxors in here, but not that much.
Part 1: Beneath a Shattered Fountain
Harry set Draco down on the floor of what used to be the Hogwarts' prefects bathroom but was now his personal bathing pool. At first Draco did not recognize it. The mermaid's window lay in pieces on the floor and dark black scorch marks covered the walls. Someone had fought for his life here, he thought.
One by one, Harry turned several faucets on, filling the large tub with water and adding different colored bubbles. Draco watched him bend over each faucet, his green eyes lighting up as he played with the settings. For someone who had slaughtered his enemies, Harry looked like a child at Christmas. But then Harry turned and looked at him, and Draco felt the same wave of fear he had when he first stared up at him while helpless under the Ministry's broken fountain.
"Come on," he said, holding one hand out. "Let's get that mud off you."
The command was gentle and kind, but Draco recognized it as a command all the same. With a small nod, he crawled the short distance towards Harry and took his hand, slipping into the pool with him. The warm water came up to his chest and as the chill left his body, his wings relaxed and drooped down below the water. He groaned and lowered his head.
"Are you all right?" Harry asked, pausing as he grabbed some soap.
Draco nodded and kept his eyes on the water in front of him. "My wings...it hurts to move them but the water feels good."
"Oh, that's right." Harry slowly made his way around and behind him, brushing his fingers over the wet feathers. "This one was crushed under a rock. Can you move it?"
The water rippled as Draco lifted his wings halfway out of the water. Harry ran his hand over the hurt wing, his fingers following the contours of the slender bones. The wing shuddered and stilled in his hand as it became used to his touch.
"It's...it's not bleeding, is it?" Draco asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"No, it's fine. You just lost a few feathers here." Harry smiled and ran a finger between Draco's shoulder blades. "Can you reach your wings?"
"No. Just the tips. They're too far back for me--" He winced and pushed his hands to his mouth as Harry grasped one of them firmly and held it still.
"Then I guess I'll have to wash them for you," he said.
Draco tried to glimpse him behind his back, but he couldn't crane his neck far enough and what he could see was blocked by the edge of his wing. With his hands still up against his mouth, he closed his eyes and hissed slightly as Harry rinsed the mud and dirty fountain water from his feathers, gently kneading the thin muscles as they trembled.
"Can you fly with these?" Harry asked. "They seem so fragile."
"I can't," Draco whispered. "They're too weak."
"So you only look like an angel," Harry said with a smile. "Good. Then I don't have to clip them."
"'Clip'?" Draco turned so suddenly that his wing slid out of Harry's grip. As he backed away a step, he was startled to see that he stood a few inches over Harry. The Boy Who Lived projected a much bigger presence than his real height.
"Yes, clip," Harry said. His smile didn't diminish but it turned cold. "You belong to me. You think I'd give you a chance to fly away?"
"But...but..." Draco backed away, slipping unsteadily. "I wouldn't--" He stumbled into the water, struggling to keep his head up as he floundered. A moment later he felt the pool's edge against his back and stopped, cringing as Harry came closer.
"Don't be scared," Harry murmured, looming over him. He ran a hand through his veela's wet hair and brushed a little excess water from his face. When he spotted a tear slipping from Draco's eye, he bent and kissed it away. "I try not to break my toys."
"Please..." Draco whispered, closing his eyes. "Don't hurt me."
"I won't," Harry said. He put an arm beneath Draco's back and pulled him up, showering little kisses on his face. "I'm not the kind that likes to break pretty things."
"I promise I won't try to run away," Draco said, still too scared to open his eyes.
"A Malfoy promise," Harry said with a little laugh. "Some day you'll earn my trust, perhaps some day soon. But not yet."
"What are you going to--?"
"Chains, of course," Harry said matter of factly, tracing his finger around Draco's throat. "Very light chains, I think. You're much thinner than before. I wouldn't want to leave any marks on you."
"But--"
"And I'll lock you up somewhere. Maybe the old astronomy tower. That would make a nice little birdcage."
"Here?" Draco asked. "At Hogwarts?"
"I always liked it here. And Hermione said it'd be the best place since we destroyed almost everything else." With one more kiss, Harry pulled him back to his feet and gently turned him around again. "Now hold still this time."
His hands pressed against his mouth, Draco quietly stood still as Harry washed his wings and wondered what had happened since he'd escaped from Voldemort. Harry hadn't asked him how he'd managed to get away or how he'd killed all those Death Eaters on his own, and he knew he'd have to have answers for him sooner or later, but he was afraid of letting him know just how powerful or manipulative a veela's attraction could be. If he knew he'd driven Bellatrix and the rest of the dark wizards to such an insane jealousy that they killed each other--
A kiss at the base of his neck startled him. Harry put his arms around his waist and drew him back against his chest, putting his hands over Draco's nipples and rubbing his palms against them as they grew hard.
"What was that spell again?" Harry whispered, his breath cool on Draco's ear. "The one that makes it easier for you?"
"A-aise entre," Draco stammered.
After casting the spell, Harry's hands moved down to his hips and slipped between his thighs, prodding them open. At the same time Harry leaned forward, forcing Draco to lean against the pool's edge, hands on the cold stone floor. Harry even put one hand on Draco's head and slowly forced his cheek to the stone. From this angle Draco saw the light reflecting off the shattered glass of the mermaid window and the jagged edge of her lower face, her mouth still caught in a wide O of surprise.
"Why did you smash her?" he whispered.
"Hm?" Harry paid little attention to what his veela was saying, too enthralled by how soft his skin felt, running his fingers along the inside of Draco's thighs, forcing them wider. "The mermaid? I had to kill Arthur in here, and she wouldn't stop screaming."
Draco winced as Harry positioned himself and then thrust into him, biting his lip as he curled his fingers into the cracks in the floor. His waterlogged wings fluttered uselessly, dragging on his back, and he cried out when Harry grabbed both wings at their thickest point, where the bones disappeared into his shoulders, the tiny down feathers bunching under his fingers. It felt like Harry would rip them out of his back but he never pulled that hard, never clenched his hands so tight that Draco feared they would snap. As Harry thrust faster, Draco brought one hand to his mouth, trying to muffle his groans. Little handfuls of bubbles crested up over his shoulders and along his neck, tossed into the air with Harry's rhythm. At last Harry pushed in deep and trembled, holding him tight, and finally sighed and slumped on top of him, panting for breath.
"Mmmm...I could do this all day," Harry whispered. When he didn't get a response, he glanced down and smiled, brushing the hair from Draco's eyes. "Tired already? We have so much more to do today, though."
With a final kiss on the back of his neck, Harry leaned off him and stood up, making sure he was clean before he came out of the pool and dried off. He looked at his feet where Draco lay still, eyes shut, mouth slightly open.
"You look like a half-drowned bird," he said. "Come on, get up here."
Obeying as fast as he could, which wasn't fast because his body felt like lead, Draco pushed himself straight and brought his wings entirely out of the water, stretching them high. Rivulets streamed off his feathers and down his hair for a few seconds, but they were still so heavy with excess water that he couldn't pull himself up. Without thinking, he raised his hand to Harry for help before realizing Harry might resent that kind of demand.
Bemused by the fright that flashed over his veela's face, Harry took his hand and helped him out of the pool, pulling him straight into a kiss. He heard a startled "mmph" and then Draco froze for a moment before relaxing, tentatively putting his hands on Harry's shoulders. When Harry put his hands around Draco's waist, drawing him against his own body, his wet wings moved to curl around him. Smiling, Harry broke from Draco, giving him a few small kisses at the corners of his mouth before he drew away.
"Do your wings take a long time to dry?" he asked.
"I don't know," Draco said, watching him towel off again. "They were never wet before. Except when they first came out, but then the dark lord scourgified them."
"Scourgify?" Harry asked. "What for?"
"Blood," Draco said. "They were pretty messy when they came out."
"Well, I think we can let them dry before we go out again." Harry finished dressing and extended his hand, satisfied when Draco took it immediately. "I'll get you some clothes, something you can wear around those wings perhaps. And then we'll see what kind of chains we can find."
Lowering his head, Draco wrestled with himself before speaking, but he decided that if he wanted Harry to trust him, he'd have to resign himself to his whims. "There's...there's a shop in Knockturn Alley. It specializes in things like that."
"Really?" Harry's eyes widened a little. "You know where it is?"
Draco nodded. Instead of saying anything else, Harry started walking, tugging him after. Following Harry out of the bathroom and into the hall, Draco looked around for fear of being seen, but the school was empty. He kept close to his master, feeling extremely vulnerable walking around naked. As Harry took him downstairs, Draco saw evidence of the war all around him, black scorches and blasted masonry on the walls and ceiling, sections blown away from the staircases, and every portrait in the school was empty.
"You said..." he started, waiting for Harry's raised eyebrows and curious look to tell him it was all right to ask questions, "..that you killed Arthur Weasely?"
"Had to be done," Harry said, sounding a little sad. "He absolutely refused to let me destroy Scrimgeour and the aurors. I think he even wanted to let everyone in the Ministry live."
"But...what about his family?" Draco asked. "His children?"
"Ron didn't want to do it," Harry said. "But he knew we didn't have a choice, so he just asked me to make sure his father didn't suffer. You better not mention it to him, though. Don't bring up his mum, either. Or Tonks. Or...you know what? Don't say anything to him."
Draco nodded. They finally came out the front entrance, one of which lay on the ground and the other hung from broken hinges. His wings tightened against his back and he shivered. The air was cool, but his damp wings felt icy. "Where are we going?"
"Hogsmeade," Harry said, turning around and putting his arms around him. "I just wanted to be outside when we went."
Draco stiffened, shaking his head quickly. "But people will see me!"
"I don't think so," Harry grinned. "Everyone's hiding right now. There wasn't a soul in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley the last time I was there. Now hold still."
With a sharp crack like lightning, they vanished again, reappearing in front of Gringotts. Draco stared in all directions, gasping at the damage throughout Diagon Alley. Cracked and blown apart in some places, many of the buildings smoldered and a few were still burning. Blood stains and scorch marks lined the street, but there were no bodies or even stray wands. A sharp pull on his hand made him turn and follow Harry into Knockturn Alley, past a lamppost bent in half.
"You missed most of the fighting," Harry said. "It was really bad here, Death Eaters and aurors dying all over the place. It looks like Ron and the twins cleaned it up pretty well, though. I wonder if they're cleaning Hogsmeade now. So, where was this shop you mentioned?"
"Um...de Rais' Playthings...it's a couple doors down from Borgin & Burkes." He shied away from an unidentifiable dark stain on the street and yelped when a few shingles knocked loose during the fighting finally came crashing down and shattered a few feet away.
"It's all right," Harry said, winding his arm around Draco's waist and holding him close. "No one will hurt you as long as I'm around. Ah, here it is."
The door had been destroyed so they walked into the darkened shop, and Harry cast a lumos spell to light their way. He frowned when he saw the rows of porcelain dolls on the shelves. "This isn't what I wanted."
"Downstairs," Draco said quickly. "These are for children. The things for adults are downstairs."
With a suspicious look, Harry followed him anyway to the back of the shop, and noticed that there was indeed a narrow staircase hewn out of the ground. Holding Draco's hand so he wouldn't fall, Harry went downstairs and came into a dark chamber. Strange shapes glimmered as his light hit them, but he couldn't see them clearly. When he finally noticed the candles along the wall and lit them, he gasped despite himself.
"Dark wizards are kinky as hell," he whispered, looking over the vast array of manacles, potions with strange names like Thestral's Tease, and clothes that looked more like costumes. He left Draco by the door and went to examine a white garment that immediately caught his eye. Taking it off its hanger, he examined it with a growing smile. Meant to go with fake wings to imitate an angel, the shirt had no back, just a few strings on the sides to close it, with a tunic-shaped bottom that snapped in back. Perfect, because he didn't want his veela wearing anything that he had to struggle to get off him.
"Come here," he ordered, undoing all the strings and snaps as Draco obeyed. Harry held the outfit up and helped Draco get his arms through the tiny sleeves, then turned him around and tied the strings, running his hand once over Draco's bottom so that he breathed in sharply before finally snapping everything tight. When he was done, the white wings moved easily around the cloth.
"Now for shoes..." Harry thought, looking back over the shelves. He ignored most of them since they were almost all in gaudy colors like gold or bright pink or shiny black, but he found a pair of tan sandals that had been shunted to the back. Kneeling, he drew them out and turned back to Draco, tapping his left foot so that he raised it and slid it in, holding still as Harry did up the long laces. As Harry worked, he looked up and saw Draco looking at him in confusion. "What's wrong?"
"The dark lord, he never would have done this for me," he said softly. "Why are you...after everything you've done...?"
Harry finished the other sandal before answering, standing up and staring into Draco's eyes for a long time. The gleam in his green eyes faded and for a moment he looked not like the Boy Who Destroyed the Ministry but simply like Harry. "Whatever else I am," he murmured, "I'm not the dark lord. I know you don't understand what's going on yet -- it was bad, Draco, and it's going to be bad for awhile. Things have to change, but I promise I haven't done anything that didn't have to be done. Just trust me for awhile. You'll see what I'm doing is right."
Still confused, Draco just nodded. "I...I'll trust you, then." He half-smiled and looked away. "Even if you don't trust me yet."
"Well, you can hardly blame me," Harry said, raising his hand and brushing Draco's cheek with his knuckles. "You're a lying, tricky Malfoy and growing a pair of wings doesn't change that. I don't like things I can't trust. I might not have saved you out of the Ministry except..." He breathed out and reached up, running his fingers through Draco's hair and then farther up along his wing. "I do like pretty things."
Draco watched the gleam came back into Harry's eyes. At least Harry knew what he was, but perhaps Voldemort had known what he was. Who knew how early the dark lord had chosen his path? Perhaps in terms in dark lords, Harry was a late bloomer.
"Just promise me you won't be another V-V-V...dark lord," he said a little lamely.
"I promise." He lightly touched the tunic that hid the evidence of Voldemort's affection on Draco's skin, the lingering scratches and deep welts on his stomach. "I won't be like him."
Harry drew him to the last section, gazing over the myriad restraints laid out for his choosing. There were heavy black manacles, thin gold links, pieces that looked more like jewelry and some chains that were so twisted and convoluted that he didn't think he'd know how to lock them on. He settled on a pair of simple silver manacles, somewhat lightweight so they wouldn't bruise his veela, but as he picked them up, he found that the chain between them also had a chain connected to a silver collar. That worked fine, too, he thought. He opened the manacles with a click and held them up.
"Go on," he said.
Looking once at the chains and then at Harry, Draco winced but he didn't argue. Slowly, as if afraid the manacles would snap shut with crushing power, he put his hands out and set his wrists inside. As his skin touched the metal, the manacles closed again with a soft click. Now Harry raised the collar and put it around his neck, and the click behind his head sounded like a solid note of finality. He tested the chains, pulling at them to see if they'd break, but he quickly gave up and let his hands hang in front of him.
"I'll take these off someday," Harry said, sliding his hand up the chain at his throat and grasping it firmly, pulling him down a few inches for a kiss. "You'll see. You'll learn to like being mine."
Dressed in an outfit meant more for easy access than comfort and held in check by chains that only responded to Harry's touch, Draco wasn't so sure, but he kept his reservations to himself. The shock of his rescue and sudden enslavement was starting to wear off, and he started to wonder if and how he could improve his standing both in this new world the Gryffindors seemed bent on creating and in Harry's eyes alone. If his inherent magic really was affecting Harry, then it might also be affecting Draco himself, because he found those green eyes mesmerizing, and he felt safer around him even if he was a burgeoning dark lord. With a little resignation and a lot of hope, he followed Harry upstairs and out of the shop, back into the light where he stretched his wings wide, beating them in the air softly as he became more accustomed to their weight.
TBC...
Next: Wings Underfoot