InsaneJournal

Harry's Pet
Title: Harry's Pet 1/3
Author: quill_lumos
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Slavery, BDSM, Romance, Smut. Completely AU
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Severus, Ron/Hermione, etc,
Thematic Round Four Prompt 40 – Collar. Written for thematic_hp on LJ ages ago!!
Summary: Harry Potter has defeated Voldemort and is awarded a slave as a thank you by the Ministry of magic. Draco however is not so happy about it.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter, related nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. It all belongs to JK Rowling. Bloomsbury Books, Scolastic Inc., Warner Brothers and any other entity involved.

A/N this story is darker than many of my other fics. Please heed the warnings and don’t read it if you think it might squick you!

(5,139 words approx)

I’ve had a revamp. The story hasn’t changed very much, but it’s been tidied up considerably and checked for the dreaded SPAG.




When Draco awoke he couldn’t move his arms. They were pulled tight above his head and affixed to a wrought-iron headboard, his wrists encircled in leather cuffs and held securely. He was lying on a bed, naked, on silken sheets. ‘Oh my God,’ he thought, befuddled and confused at the unexpected circumstances. ‘I am no longer in the real world; I’m in the middle of a fucking porno cliché.’

“You think?” said a voice, seemingly situated somewhere to the left of the bed on which he was spreadeagled. “Hmmm, could be that you're right… Mind you, I could have chained you in a dungeon; that would have been just as much of a cliché, but not nearly as comfortable for you.”

‘Oh fuck,’ Draco thought, a little panicked now, what the fuck did he do next? He didn’t want to upset his captor too much just yet, not till he knew what the hell was happening. “Oh, er…right. I said that out loud?’

“Umm…no,” the voice commented in a matter of fact tone. “You didn't. It's just that I own you. All of you, every last bit of you: your body, your soul, your thoughts, everything. You're my reward for defeating Voldemort.”

Draco started as the person, whoever he was, ran his hand along Draco’s ribs, tweaking a pert nipple, almost as an afterthought.

“The Ministry said I could have anything I wanted, anything in the world,” The voice seemed coloured with surprise now, “so I asked for you and they said, yes. That means you’re mine now. Forever.”

Finally, something that had been nagging away at the back of his brain filtered through. He knew that voice, he’d know it anywhere, it had surely been the shock of the situation which had stopped him realising it before.

“Potter?” It was Potter who had him chained to a bed; perfect goody, goody golden boy, hero-of-the-wizarding-world, Potter.

“Not such a goody, goody golden boy any more, my little pet,” Potter said proving his words by running his hands up and down Draco’s inner thighs, causing him to shudder deliciously. He tried to move away from those persistent fingers, but then realised that his legs were tied too, effectively immobilising him. It didn’t hurt; his bonds were as soft as butter, they encircled his skin like a caress, but he wasn’t going anywhere that Potter didn’t want him to. His ankles were fixed to a spreader bar, which gave Potter access to any part of his anatomy that he wanted to touch and he, Draco, was completely helpless.

He gulped, and then squeaked with surprise as Potter grasped his cock and squeezed it, hard.

“Get the fuck off me, Potter!” Draco yelled, trying to arch away from those invasive, exploring hands. Now he knew who’d captured him he wasn’t frightened anymore, he could handle Potter. “They can’t do this.” He growled, “I’m a wizard, not a house elf. I can’t be given away like this!”

“But Malfoy,” Potter purred, this time sounding nothing like he had at Hogwarts, “it’s too late. You already have been given away: to me. If I wanted to treat you as a house elf, then I would do so and nothing could stop me.” He squeezed Draco’s cock again, eliciting a reluctant moan from him. “I have far better plans for your time and your body than having you cook and clean. I reckon you’d be rubbish at it anyway, but I bet you will be a very, very good little pet. At least, when I finish your training you will be.”

Draco craned his neck, trying to see his nether regions, see what Potter was doing, so he could keep track of the other man, even if he could do nothing to stop him. It was bloody uncomfortable, despite the comfortable mattress and the soft pillows, because he couldn’t quite lift his head as far as he needed to. Finally, desperately trying to keep his mind away from Potter’s tender explorations, he caught a glimpse of his shiny pink cock and his naked balls.

“Potter!” he yelped, “What have you done? What have you done with my body hair? There's nothing left.”

Potter’s face loomed in Draco’s eye line. He smirked, evilly.

“I removed it,” he said coolly, “Though it was nice to see that you really are a natural blond!” His grin widened and he leaned over and licked Draco’s cock, with what seemed to be a good deal of relish. Draco couldn’t help himself, he moaned, he seemed to have no control. His hips canted towards Potter’s mouth, seeking that delicious warm wetness all of their own accord. Potter ran his tongue around the tip of Draco’s cock and nibbled the skin around his urethra. “I didn’t want a mouth full of hair when I did this,” Potter murmured, before licking back down Draco’s cock to the base. “Of course,” he continued, “I don’t care if you get a mouth full of hair when you suck me off, but it isn’t an equal relationship, after all.”

Draco was barely listening. He knew what Potter was saying was important, that he ought to pay attention to it, but he couldn't quite bring himself to concentrate. He was panting now, desperate for release, who knew that Potter would be so good at falatio?
He was sure that his brain was going to melt, he was certain the rest of him had melted, even if he hadn’t been tied down, he was sure that there was no way he could have resisted what Potter was doing to him.

“By the way,” Potter said, interrupting his thoughts, seemingly as matter-of-fact as ever, “You are not allowed to call me ‘Potter,’ or ‘Harry, or anything else that I don’t approve of.’ I am your master and you will address me as such.” He ran his tongue over one of Draco’s balls, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before realising it in order to continue speaking. “If you forget again, then I will have to punish you.” He moved his hand possessively along Draco’s tender thigh, following it with his mouth, kissing and sucking, then he took the tender skin of Draco's upper leg between his teeth and bit it.

Draco yelled and tried his best to squirm away, “Ow, fuck! What did you do that for? Fuck, Potter, that hurt!”

Potter grinned again, his green eyes danced with glee. He was wearing a tight t-shirt, which highlighted his firm chest and toned arms, when had Potter grown-up to be so gorgeous?

“Tsk, tsk, Draco,” the now strikingly good-looking Potter said, laving his tongue back down Draco’s leg towards his groin. “You do disappoint me! I thought you were a quick learner. I’ll just have to punish you again.”

This time he was at the very fattest part of Draco’s inner thigh when he bit down. It hurt like buggery. Draco screamed and Potter chuckled.

“Get off me, you bastard!” Draco yelled, “I don’t want this, you…you…wanker!”

Potter laughed.

“But I’m not a wanker, Draco, not any more. You are my little wanker, you’ll wank me and suck me, and, bit by bit, you will learn to love it.” He was leaning over Draco, face to face, close enough to kiss him should he choose to. Draco couldn’t kiss anyone, he still couldn’t lift his head from the pillow. Potter was still grasping Draco’s cock, running a thumb along the underside. “However much you deny it, this,” he said, pulling firmly on Draco’s dick, whilst Draco squirmed helplessly beneath him, “this disagrees with you.”

Draco couldn’t argue with that, could he? Not with a hard, aching organ, leaking pre-come all over Potter’s fingers, giving the lie to his words. He was angry, furious, in fact. He wanted to get up off that bed and smash Potter into the ground, but at the same time, he’d never been so hard in all his life.

Potter leaned down and kissed him full on the mouth. So demandingly, with such passion, and such intensity, that Draco almost forgot to breathe. As they kissed, Potter stroked Draco's cock until, with a cry muffled by the insistent mouth of his erstwhile rival, Draco came so hard he thought his eyeballs were about to bleed.

Potter grinned widely and stood up, idly wiping his sticky hand on the sheets on which Draco lay. Then he reached down to the foot of the bed and produced what looked like a collar; a rather gorgeous collar, solid silver and covered in jewels but not something Draco ever expected to see in Potter’s hands.

“This is for you, Draco,” Potter told him casually, as if waving a symbol of enslavement around was something he did every day. “By the end of the week you will crawl to me and beg me to put this on you. It is possibly the only thing that I will ever let you wear from now on. After all, why should I cover up that gorgeous body, when I can look at it all day long?”

Draco was speechless. This wasn’t a dream. The warm satiated feeling that had overwhelmed him, wouldn’t allow him the leisure of that pretence. But it couldn’t be true could it? People didn’t have slaves anymore. Perfect Potter wouldn’t want a slave, would he?

“You are so beautiful.” Potter was saying, stroking Draco’s face tenderly, gazing at him possessively. “Such a wanton little whore. My little whore! And I am never going to let you go.”

Draco shivered. Who knew that Potter could be so commanding, who knew he was so gorgeous underneath those dreadful clothes? He knew that he should be desperate to get away, from Potter, from Harry, who didn’t seem quite normal anymore. But that mouth! Those big green eyes! That awesome, genius, fucking, tongue. He couldn’t possibly be more turned on than he had ever been in his entire life, could he?

But, already, Draco’s cock was hard and weeping again and Potter was still smirking possessively, he ran a finger along the offending organ.

“My, my, pet. See what I mean? Totally, fucking, wanton. Only, next time I touch you and I will be touching you, next time you don’t get to come before I do,” and he bent over Draco’s cock, fixing a cold metal ring at the base of it. He gave Draco’s cock one final lick at the tip, he squeezed his thigh again and said, “Night, night, pet. See you in the morning!” With his last comment ringing in Draco’s ears, Potter Disapparated with a pop and all the lights went out.


**********

When Draco woke again, his bonds had been relaxed a bit. He was still chained to the headboard, the cuffs were secure on his wrists and ankles, but at least he could move a little. His cock was still hard though, and he couldn’t help secretly hoping that Potter would be back shortly to take care of it.

The light was streaming through a gap in the curtains, and Draco could see a bit of the room in the morning light. It was a perfectly nice room, with cream walls and dark wood furniture. The only remotely weird thing about it was the fact that he was tied naked and spread wide on a metal bedstead which was dressed in cream silk sheets. Oh, and of course, there was also the fact that Hermione Granger was sitting in an armchair by the bed, watching him intently.

Draco yelped. He used all the leeway that the loosened bonds gave him to try to turn on his side and cover his cock with his leg. But, whilst the chains attached to the headboard allowed him some movement, the spreader bar prevented him from covering anything else.

Granger watched his contortions for a second or two and then commented.

“I wouldn’t bother, Malfoy. I am singularly uninterested in your, um...assets. Both Ron and Harry are far more generously endowed.”

“Fuck off Granger,” Draco growled, “At least you can cover me up if you are going to start drooling over me!”

“Sorry, Malfoy, no can do. Harry wants you just like that and I do like to make my dear friend Harry happy!”

She smirked at him, evilly.

Draco struggled for a bit longer, trying to release his bonds and then he just gave in. What was the point? He was gorgeous, she obviously wasn’t going anywhere and he wasn’t exactly ashamed of his body, let the poor woman have a look. After all, if all she was used to was the ginger ape, then she probably deserved to see some beauty.

“What the fuck are you doing here anyway? What the fuck am I doing here, come to that?”

Draco was royally pissed off! He didn’t know how long he had been here, he was hungry, thirsty and he needed a pee, his cock was still hard from the night before and he thought that Potter must have used magic to keep it so. But he knew that if he didn’t get to come soon his beloved organ was likely to drop off. He wanted some answers. Then it hit him: that’s what Granger was here for wasn’t it? To tell him what was happening?

He was going to have to talk to the bitch, wasn’t he?

Oh fuck.

“Hey, Granger!” he began, trying for an approximation of a pleasant tone, “What’s going on? Why am I here? Is this some sort of joke or something?”

“Well, it’s certainly something!” Granger replied acerbically.

Draco ground his teeth.

“Please Granger. Tell me why I am here?” he asked as politely as he could under the circumstances.

She tucked her chin down and peered at him from under her brows.

“That’s what I’m here for, Malfoy,” she said coolly. “Harry asked me to explain what's happening to you; he’ll detail your duties. Perhaps he already has?”

It was gradually dawning on Draco that this was not a joke. Last night had been a bit like a hot dream! A rather weird, perverted hot dream right enough. But nevertheless, nothing like reality.

“Please, Her..Hermione?” Draco was almost begging now. “I need to know what’s going on and I really, desperately need the loo.” He couldn’t help blushing a bit, which was really strange, because she had been sitting there watching him in all his naked glory for Merlin knew how long, and that hadn’t bothered him had it? But having to tell Granger about his need to relieve himself had him blushing like a school-girl.

“Oh sorry, Malfoy,” she said, somewhat contritely and she waved a wand to remove any excess bodily fluids.

“Fuck!!” Draco yelped. He hated that charm; it made you feel like your insides were being rubbed down with sandpaper.

Much to Draco’s dismay, Granger laughed. He felt fury rising in him. He wanted to snap at her, call her a cold-hearted, mudblood bitch. But that wasn’t going to get him any answers, was it? So he ground his teeth even harder and stayed silent.

“You belong to Harry now.” Granger began.

“He told me that!” Draco spat angrily. “And you’re okay with it are you? I thought you started that group at Hogwarts to free house-elves. What was it called again? Spunk or something?”

Granger bristled. “It was called S.P.E.W,” she spelled, “As you well know. And, if you are asking, I don’t like this, not one bit. But, under the circumstances…”

She looked at him steadily for a moment. “Look Granger,” Draco said, “I can’t get on my knees, can I? I am asking you, as politely as I can, to tell me what’s happened and, considering I’ve been chained to a bed by a fucking madman, I’m being pretty fucking polite! Give me a break!”

She smiled ruefully then, and looked at him with something resembling sympathy.

“I am sorry, Draco,” she said, her tone much gentler, “truly I am. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, I sure as hell ain’t going anywhere, am I?” Draco hissed.

Granger sighed deeply, then began to talk, “Voldemort took a long time to kill because he made himself immortal by the use of something called Horcruxes” She said softly. “Those are little bits of soul that a wizard can separate from the whole and secrete somewhere else. Then if something happens and he is killed, his soul is not intact a piece of him still lives on thereby keeping him alive, it’s why Voldemort didn’t die last time, when Harry was a baby.” Draco shuddered, he was horrified, that was surely the most evil thing he had ever heard, though he couldn’t have said that he was surprised.

“It takes very Dark magic to create a horcrux.” Granger continued, “the spell needs the death of another, the murder of another wizard by the one who wishes to make a horcrux.. But once the magic has been performed, if parts of killer's soul are hidden, safe, then even if his body is destroyed, the wizard cannot be killed, ever.”

Draco shivered, whether it was the casual use of the Dark Lord’s name, the mention of the Horcruxes, or the fact that he was lying in a large airy room totally bollock naked, he wasn’t sure, but all at once he was covered in goose bumps.

But Granger was continuing so he shivered again and forced himself to listen.

“Dumbledore knew all about the horcruxes, and told Harry about them, then of course, Harry told us. Dumbledore believed was not a good idea to make a horcrux out of a living thing, he thought that Voldemort had made a horcrux from his snake, Nagini. Dumbledore was right, Nagini was a horcrux, but so is Harry. Even though Voldemort is dead, Harry still carries a part of his soul.”

Draco started to panic.

After he’d failed to kill Dumbledore, Draco had to face the Dark Lord. It had been the most terrifying experience of his life. He had been tortured, beaten and subjected to prolonged hexing, including repeated applications of the Cruciatus Curse. He couldn’t face that again. He knew he would go mad! He started to hyperventilate.

Granger came closer, sat beside him and placed a warm hand on his chest.

“Shh, Draco,” she said sounding almost as if she cared, “It’s okay.”

“How is it okay, you stupid bitch?” he growled, he was absolutely terrified, a few platitudes were not going to make him feel better, “I’ve just been made into the fucktoy of a Dark Lord. How could that possibly be fucking OKAY?” He shouted the last bit, so agitated was he becoming.

Granger didn’t seem in the slightest bit flustered.

“I do understand, Draco,” she said, almost kindly. “We’ve all been through the same thought processes; imagine how Harry felt when he found out? But Dumbledore was right, you see? There is a bit of Voldemort’s soul that was accidentally bound to Harry when he was just a baby, because it was an accident, you know? When Harry didn’t die, and everything went wrong for Voldy, the piece of soul that he was going to put in Godric’s sword ended up in Harry instead. It's been there all his life.

“But Harry has such a good soul, is so loving and kind, that his soul, his goodness, negated the evil.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open; he had no idea what to say to that. She obviously didn’t think that chaining someone to a bed and bringing them off in the most earth-shattering way possible was evil. Mind you, when he thought about last night, Draco’s cock twitched with anticipation and he realised that bits of him didn’t think it was very evil, either.

“The only real difficulty,” Granger continued, “Is that this Darkness has left him with some, um...unusual sexual proclivities. He has apparently become very dominant in bed, with his partners and I believe he likes S&M and er...Bondage…um...and all that sort of thing.”

She was blushing now, and she couldn't quite seem to meet his eyes, she didn't seem very comfortable with the task that she had been given and Draco wondered how Potter had managed to persuade her to help.

“But the problem was that, er...Ginny didn’t really like it. You see um...Ginny is much more the kind of girl who likes...dishing out the punishment not taking it!”

“So then, of course, Snape suggested you.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open with shock.

“Snape,” he shouted, struggling against his bonds, suddenly overwhelmed with fury. “I am going to fucking kill him!”

Hermione patted his chest again and he wanted to rip her hand off with his teeth. Unfortunately he couldn’t quite reach.

“But don’t you see, Draco? Snape saw it as your only chance. He was a spy all along; Dumbledore left plenty of information to clear him as soon as Voldemort died. But you? As far as anyone is concerned, you were a Death Eater and, excuse me for saying so, not a very good one at that.

“You already know that the Malfoy fortune has been confiscated to pay for, what Scrimgeour calls, your family’s ‘war crimes’. Your father is dead, and your mother cleared off to Argentina with some South American aristocrat. The Ministry wanted to make an example of you, Malfoy. They found you in hiding at Greg Goyle’s. You were so badly hexed that you were Stupefied for nearly a week. But, if Snape hadn’t suggested it, and Harry hadn’t agreed to help, you would have woken up to a cell in Azkaban and the possibility of a Kiss from a much less attractive prospect than Harry.”

Draco shivered again, much more violently this time.

“So is this all pretence then?” he asked, “Did Potter rescue me?”

“Weellll..” Hermione mused, “he did, and he didn’t. You are obviously not in Azkaban, but the only way to save you was to enslave you, and Harry has been er...quite obsessed with you since sixth year, so I think he is really - oh how do I put it? Really looking forward to playing with his new toy.”

Draco lay back against the pillow feeling quite numb.

“I am so fucked, aren’t I?” he moaned.

“Oh I don’t know, Malfoy. You obviously enjoyed last night,” she said, gently squeezing his cock in an objective manner. If it had not been for the chains, he would have leapt off the bed in shock at that point, “We heard you screaming in orgasm all over the house.

“You can’t change what has happened, you know? The Malfoy name is dirt right now. The only way to be safe, and out of prison, is to stay with Harry and, despite his need to play little games, he is too much of a Gryffindor to ever truly harm you. Shouldn’t you be making the most of this situation? Turning it to your best advantage? Isn’t that the Slytherin thing to do?

“I’m sorry that I can’t give you anything to eat or drink, but Harry said not to. He’ll be back soon and he is very eager to spend time with you, so I’d get some rest while you can.”

She patted his chest again, although Draco barely noticed, then she stood and swept out of the room, bushy curls bouncing energetically in her wake.

Draco lay against the soft pillows and wondered what in the heck he was going to do now.

The last three years had been sheer hell for him. His mother had abandoned him as soon as his father had been killed. Lucius Malfoy had escaped from Azkaban with the help of his sister-in-law, Bellatrix, and, instead of fleeing the country taking the Malfoy millions with him, as any sensible wizard would do, he had rejoined the Dark Lord. He had died, shortly after, accidentally trampled to death by one of that fat oaf, Hagrid’s hippogriffs, so Draco didn’t even have the comfort that his father’s death had not been in vain. No wonder he’d always hated hippogriffs.

It was an ignominious end indeed for a Malfoy.

In desperation Draco had gone into hiding. He'd often been rejected, by his erstwhile friends and he certainly hadn’t wanted to fight. He'd been hungry, lonely and sometimes close to despair. Greg’s house had been the last of many hiding places so he wasn't surprised that the Aurors had found him at long last. But this? This situation? It frightened the living daylights out of him.

He closed his eyes to try to think, try to plan what to do, when he opened them again Potter was gazing hungrily at him with those gorgeous green eyes.

“Hello, Pet,” he grinned, “did you miss me?”


**********


It was four hours later, and Draco was wondering whether it were possible to die of pleasure. Harry had licked, sucked and nibbled him. He had fucked him into the mattress more than once. He had trickled juice down Draco’s parched throat and fed him melon and strawberries and peaches and ice cream.

Harry's cock was huge, really huge - the biggest that Draco had ever had inside him - and Merlin, did he know how to use it. His bonds had again been loosened and the spreader bar removed, Harry had done that, almost as an afterthought, whilst he was making love to him, because that it what it was; making love. Harry had loosened the bonds, retightened them and then vanished the spreader bar all without saying a word or using a wand; and Draco realised that the man sharing his bed was indeed hugely powerful.

They lay spooned together now. Harry’s arm draped over Draco’s body possessively, his breath gentle against Draco’s neck, his leg gently inserted between Draco’s own legs.

But Draco wasn’t sleeping. How could he sleep? He had far too much to think about.

When Hermione had first told him about the horcruxes, the bits of soul, he had very nearly despaired. The Dark Lord had been dark and vicious. He'd enjoyed the pain of others and whilst he had had no apparent capacity for sex himself, he had loved to watch others fuck, others being raped. If it had not been for Snape, putting a claim on Draco and spiriting him away, he would have ended up as the pet of someone like Greyback or Avery. He had spend three years terrified, certain that death would find him eventually. Then he’d woken up here and at first he had thought his captivity a joke, but Granger’s words and Potter’s behaviour had changed his mind. In the last four hours, when Harry had worshipped his body with his mouth, whispered tender words in his ear and made slow and tender love to him, whenever he had been undistracted enough, Draco had looked for signs that Harry was possessed.

There had been the occasional flash of red, bright against the green of his eyes, when he had been very aroused, but apart from that, nothing. The look in those eyes had been one of hunger and one of tenderness of possessiveness. Granger said that Harry had been obsessed with him in sixth year citing it as evidence that he wanted Draco in his life and in his bed. Draco knew that he’d been obsessed with Harry for much longer than that, he had never been able to get Harry out of his thoughts, not since a scruffy, but very determined little boy had stood next to him in Madam Malkin’s all those years ago. All that hatred, all that animosity between them, was because he had been rejected, not wanted in Harry’s life.

But now he had him. He had Harry Potter in bed with him, holding him tight. The sex tonight had been beyond his wildest dreams, and Draco was no virgin, he’d had lots of experience in bed. Harry was a very generous lover and Draco had almost lost count of the orgasms that the dark-haired man had wrung from his body that evening. It had been, well, it had been fucking fantastic! There was no way that he could pretend, especially to himself, that he didn’t want to do this again, many, many times.

Granger was right. He was a Slytherin; he should take advantage of any situation. Harry was obviously powerful, but was also sweet and loving. Draco knew he could handle him. He had always been known as a bit of a bossy bottom in Slytherin, so that’s how he’d handle Harry. He’d let him think that he was in charge, when really he would get his own way most of the time, and, compared to the last few months, that was definitely a step forward! Of course, it wasn’t what his mother might have wished for him, but then she had pissed off to Argentina with Carlos, hadn’t she? He was safe and protected and fed, and cared for. So what if he wasn’t free? He never had been free, really, had he? So what if his ‘Master’ was Harry Potter? The man in question was, without a doubt, one of the most powerful wizards in the country; both politically and, based on his earlier performance, magically as well.

He’d always had to fulfil a role: Malfoy heir, his father’s son, prince of Slytherin. So that’s all this was then, a role; one which might be a heck of a lot more fun than some of the others he had played.

So in the morning, he participated in the lovemaking with great appreciation. He gave in to the demands of his Master with abandonment. He allowed himself to be fucked several times and then he did not protest when Harry told him to bathe him and then join him in the bath. And later, later he crawled to his new Master and knelt at his feet, enjoying the feeling of his cock swelling yet again as Harry placed the beautiful collar around his neck. He luxuriated in the feeling of it, encircling his throat, just the right size, made for him, intricate, exquisite, costly. He felt safe and wanted and protected and very, very aroused.

And later, when Harry played with his body, Draco allowed him access with total abandon, he was compliant and submissive, everything his Master could wish for, and all the time he occluded his thoughts and waited to take control.


Part Two.
Harry's Pet II.