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Draco suspected that Potter had decided to become a dark lord only two years after the defeat of Voldemort. In the first year, Potter only got halfway through his auror training before he found out how corrupt the politics were on every level of the magical government. He tracked Draco down to demand to know if it was a more recent development because of Draco's father, or if it was deeper than the Death Eater teachings. Draco owed Potter a lot, so he was honest when he said that the Death Eaters only capitalized on what was already there, and as far as he knew, the corruption ran as far back as the wizarding council at least.
As obvious as it now was in hindsight, Potter's resignation to the auror force was expected from someone that honorable back then. Hermione stayed idealistic and on track, and Ron resigned soon after to become a no-name clerk in his older brother's prank shop. Potter dropping completely off the radar a year after that was what made Draco feel a little restless, but he dismissed it since the papers were saying that Potter was visiting ancient monasteries in India to recover from the trauma of war through meditation and ancient rituals.
Four years after his disappearance in 2005, Potter was suddenly in the public eye again. He was going to charities and socializing at political functions, and Draco's seed of restlessness bloomed into anxiety. His anxiety crept towards panic with every new interview where Potter said there needed to be changes in the ministry to end corruption, that the government should be streamlined better, classes and tutoring for pre-Hogwarts should be centralized, and other such things that sounded very good on paper but was definitely dancing on the side of revolution.
In the seventh year, panic exploded into full out fear when an attack on muggles was declared with the strangest part of it being that all of the newly orphaned muggleborns had been dropped right into the ministry's lobby. Nobody knew who attacked, and the ones that perished were abusive or negligent families. Yet, Granger just happened to have a few rough drafts for an orphanage she had been thinking on for a year that could be looked at, and Potter was on the front page asking that whoever did that to come forward so everyone could find a way to rescue abused magical children in a more peaceful manner. He also added that he understood how they felt since his own muggle relatives had hated magic, kept him locked in a cupboard, and abused him.
That article turned public opinion firmly pro-muggleborn and very anti-muggle. It catered to both extremes for acceptance and separation, and it had Ron's strategic mind with the twin's twisted genius behind it. The Malfoys had kept records on exactly how Voldemort had risen, and though the policies were different, the tactics were similar. The insidious thing was that nobody even considered Harry Potter as a suspect, so people rallied behind him as the person who knew what to do and could fix it all since he had fixed the Voldemort problem as well.
Draco still didn't go anywhere, though. He and Potter had settled their differences years ago and were neutral towards each other, so if he stayed out of the way and said nothing, he figured he would be left in peace. Unfortunately for him, Nott had sent him an owl.
You kept me out of the Voldemort politics when I wanted to remain neutral in the dorms. I am repaying that favor by letting you know that the new dark lord is enquiring about your loyalties.
'Loyalties.' Draco hated that word with a passion because of how Voldemort had used it to twist and break his family like they were chocolate frogs to be smashed with a mallet. He burned the letter and grabbed a bag to pack while he debated between France or the Caribbeans, but he had barely gotten his toiletries in before he staggered under the backlash of his cottage's wards getting shattered. By the time he could see past the blinding haze of a migraine, he knew he was too late, but he staggered to his feet an attempted to apparate out since none of the wards remained.
Nothing happened. Someone else had put up apparition wards in the five seconds he had been unable to do anything. He grabbed the bathroom doorway and pressed his forehead to the cool wood with a groan, and he stayed like that until he felt a heavy shift in the air that told him he was no longer alone.
"Potter."
"Figures that you would be the first person to not be surprised," he heard Potter say half with contempt and half with amusement. "You haven't even looked up yet. Who told you it was me?"
"Nobody," Draco replied, then he raised his head and blinked. Potter stood at the doorway into his room looking like a nightmare from legend - all floating robes and a cowl so deep that only a pair of killing curse green lights shone out like an Avada spell waiting to be released with a glare. "Huh, ironic. Your eyes are Slytherin green while You-Know-Who went with Gryffindor red. You also look like a love child between an obscurus and a dementor."
Potter burst into laughter then pushed his cowl back so that the handsome and strong man in the papers could be seen. "I know, right?" he agreed with amusement. Amusement was good since it meant that Draco might be able to talk his way into neutrality. "If nobody told you, how did you know?"
"It was obvious, Potter," Draco scoffed. He was bluffing his confidence, but he also wasn't too scared of Potter. They had history and he knew he wouldn't be outright murdered. He was mostly sure on that, anyway. "You disappeared after finding out about the corruption, come back all changed and charismatic, Granger who is already in a high position has a proposal that can clean up after your murder spree, and you turned people against muggles but still kept a good light on muggleborns. That last sounds like a Weasley-Granger strategy."
"Oh, huh," Potter said with a surprised expression while he studied Draco like he had just found something interesting. Draco did not want to be interesting. He wanted to be neutral. "Actually, the strategies and actions were all mine. I asked Hermione if she would mind thinking of a good way that a magical orphanage could be run so that people like me didn't have to live with abusive family. That was nearly two years ago, and I waited to make my move until she was almost done. I worked on getting popular so people would back the new policies that I planned to support. Hermione doesn't know about this - I just know what she would do."
"What about Weasley?" he asked.
"What about him?" Potter replied with a smirk. "I'm close to George since I partially own the prank shop, but he wasn't in on the planning. If you mean Ron, we had a falling out because he was angry that I wanted to resign from the aurors. Accused me of going dark, and I was so sick of him saying shit like that when I disagreed with him that I was just as done with him as I was with the ministry. I suppose that you could consider it helpful planning if you want since I later decided to do this since people are going to keep accusing me of being a liar, insane, evil, or whatever."
Potter combed his fingers back through his hair with a frustrated huff and Draco realized what seemed the most off about Potter. He had been looking at the glow in his eyes since it had been the most over things but... "Where are your glasses?"
"I did a ritual to fix my eyesight," Potter replied in a dismissive tone like he had not just admitted to sacrificial magic. "The glasses I wear in public work a little like Moody's eyes did, but I don't need them."
Draco pushed himself off the doorway and took a step into his bedroom. "I don't want to serve anyone, Potter," he bluntly stated since it was time to move past the small talk. "I had enough with the last war and want to be neutral." He gestured to his bed. "I was just packing to leave the country and had not told anyone about you even though I suspected it the year you disappeared. I knew for sure when you killed the muggles a few weeks ago. Still thought you were going to let me be, but I decided to start packing today just in case."
"That is a long time to hold your silence," Potter amicably replied. "Long enough to say you are loyal to me, right?"
"No," Draco snapped, then he began to stomp towards his bed. "I don't want to be twisted into another plaything, Potter. I stayed out of it since if you were becoming a dark lord, I owed it to you to keep silent because you defended me when none others did. I'm..." He swallowed hard since he could feel Potter at his back even though he hadn't heard anything, but he was not touched. "-not interested in joining you or anyone. I became a simple potion brew-"
Draco snapped his mouth shut and stayed absolutely still when Potter wrapped his right arm around Draco's waist to embrace his back. "But I want you, Draco," Potter quietly purred against the back of his neck. Draco stopped breathing so he wouldn't shiver or say something stupid. It was fucking hot, but he also knew it was just a ploy. "You served Voldemort but didn't keep his secrets. You would keep mine but not serve me? I promise I'm a different type of master."
That last word was said in such a seductively dark tone that Draco wanted to curse Potter right then and there. "Yes, I would keep your secrets, but I don't want to serve you," he replied in a slightly strained voice while he ignored the sexual inuendo. "I didn't want to serve him, either, but I was a dumb kid with a terrible father. I was forced into it through circumstances and coercion."
"You're making a hasty decision without giving me the chance to offer anything, Draco," Potter replied in that same seductive tone while he molded himself against Draco's back. "You're preparing to run away because you are still afraid of Voldemort even though you trust me enough to give me your back."
Draco couldn't form a rebuttal to that, though it wasn't because there wasn't one. He was pretty sure there was one. Potter's left hand had splayed out on his belly above the arm keeping him in place and was slowly sliding up his chest. "Stop messing with me, Potter," he managed to say when Potter's hand was beginning to near his collar. "Just let me go and I will stay out of your way."
"I know how you used to look at me when you thought I wasn't watching," Potter said. He had ignored Draco's words to undo the top button of his shirt, and now he was working on the next one down. "I saw that same look when I pushed my hood back. You can't even say you're not interested, can you."
Draco finally lifted a hand to grab Potter's wrist when he began to pluck at the third button on Draco's shirt. "Stop fucking with me."
Draco had expected to be cursed or hit or mocked or something. What he got was the collar of his shirt at his back bitten down on, then the threads of the material began to unweave then waft like Potter's robes were doing. Draco squeezed Potter's wrist tighter to snark about stupid dramatics, but the arm around his waist pulled him back tightly against Potter's chest.
Draco whimpered.
Potter removed his teeth from the collar, but the threads continued to work free of their stitches and the weave. He lightly sank his teeth into the back of Draco's neck, and Draco was kept held up when he lost the strength in his legs because Potter sucked hard enough to make a love bite.
"I still won't serve you," Draco gasped out. He was fairly sure he was holding Potter's wrist hard enough to hurt and at least leave bruises behind, but Potter had not tried to pull it out of his hand. Potter bit down again on the next spot a little higher than the first hickey and slowly lowered Draco to a sitting position on the floor. "What do you want, Potter?"
"I don't want you to serve me," Potter silkily replied. Draco would have been relieved about his neck no longer being attacked, but Potter twisted his wrist out of Draco's hand while Potter kept the high ground by only going down to his knees. "I want your devotion." Draco's shirt fell apart with a touch and Potter's cool hand was pressed against his chest over his heart while his shirt hung in tatters all over the floor, his lap, and over Potter's right arm. "I know how smart you are and what you are capable of, Draco. I want your all."
In the overall scheme of things, that show of magic wasn't a display of power. It was a display of control since they both knew Harry was a powerful wizard. Potter could also get intently focused on a goal, and it was heady to be the target of that focus. The part that nearly had Draco ready to come if he got even the smallest amount of friction was being acknowledged by someone like Potter, and if this kept up, he wouldn't even need that friction at all. He was beginning to want, but he had a terrible feeling that it would all end if he said yes and he really didn't want to get involved with whatever political upheaval or war that was about to happen.
"That kind of devotion destroys a person," Draco countered as he used his hands to brace himself on the floor to keep his body from trembling. Need? Want? Lust? Fear? "Yes, I've looked at you as you said I did, but it's normal to admire power and beauty. I still don't want to get involved in your revolution or rebellion or world conquest or whatever you want to call this."
There was a mix of hope and dread that Draco was being released when Potter's right arm and body pulled away, but the left hand stayed over his chest. That hand turned into a restraint that forced him to arch his back when a finger from Potter's right hand went up his spine from the small of his back to the nape of his neck. "Do you want to be my play thing?" Potter sadistically asked with a smile in his voice when his the fingers from the left also brushed across the peak of Draco's right nipple. "My toy?"
Holding his breath was the only way Draco stopped himself from making a needy sound when Potter touched him like that. "Merlin," he whispered as both an exclamation and a curse. He tried to find a reply along the lines of 'piss off,' but Potter took that moment to lean down and brush his lips against the shell of his ear. "I hate you," he moaned like others might declare their love. Then he jerked his head away and hissed. "What would you even use my devotion for?"
Potter's left hand slid away, but it was only because Potter wanted to place his hands on Draco's shoulders to massage the tension out of them. The tension that Potter had caused in the first place. "I'd force you to your knees and make you beg for mercy, but only in the best of ways," Potter purred. "You're already receptive to my touch, but what about my magic?"
Draco wasn't given any time to reply. Potter's hands released a controlled burst of magic that felt like electricity painlessly dancing over his skin and began to slide his hands down. Potter didn't have to push to make Draco lean forward. Draco reflexively pushed back against the hands like a cat would and he let his torso slump forward with a quiet whimper.
"Bloody hell, Potter," Draco gasped as his body was forced to undulate when Potter's hands continued their slow journey down. "Is this how you recruit?"
"Only into my bed," came the glib reply. It only took Potter giving his belt loops a tug up and back to get him to get his knees under him so he was on all fours. "I forget how much I want your body every time I see you. It's been years and memories fade." Potter slid his hands under his belly to begin undoing Draco's belt buckle. "The urge is just as strong as the last time we talked except I'm not denying myself now."
"A shame," Draco snarked, though it came out a little breathy. "I'm sure you could convert a celibate monk to your cause like this."
"And yet you aren't converting," Potter replied. Draco's buckle had opened and nimble fingers had undone the button and the zip, so Potter's fingers were slipping under the waistband of both his slacks and the boxers he wore. "Lucky for you that our history makes me want to play nice."
"You mean you are taking pleasure in my inability to stop you," Draco panted out as his pants were pushed halfway down his thighs. An effective way to not just expose Draco - it also hobbled his legs. "Our history was never nice. Neutral at best."
There was a whispered incantation that made Draco's insides suddenly feel wet. "I haven't heard a single protest, Draco." Having a finger pressed against his pucker while hearing his name purred like that was enough to make Draco come untouched. "You haven't fought." Draco exhaled a soundless moan when his mouth fell open because Potter's finger slipped past his virgin ring. "You've only hidden how much you want this."
Despite never having allowed others to penetrate him, Draco was familiar with the feeling of having something in his ass since he occasionally used toys while masturbating. He had little difficulty finding bed partners and usually slept with witches rather than wizards, but he could never relax around another person enough to allow them to touch him in this way. That Potter was able to do so while mocking him about his lack of protest as Draco came all over his bare floor next to his bed was humiliating. He still couldn't even deny the last statement since he was trying not to push his ass back or lewdly moan like a wanton woman.
"Then again, you've always had a strong reaction to me so I'm not surprised that it took so little to make you come," Potter continued in a darkly amused voice while he loosened Draco up with a finger. "Having you chained to my bed would be almost as satisfying as having you look at me in worship. There would be very thin silver chain connected to an anklet so you could have run of the room, but it would be spelled unbreakable and there would be not be a latch or anything to remove it." Potter's left hand began to pet his back as a second finger began to press in. "I might allow you to wear sheer fabrics, but they will accentuate your nudity rather than cover you. You wouldn't fight to leave too much since I would sate your secret desire to be properly owned and cared for."
Draco prided his own will that had been strengthened by the harsh blows of his childhood then hardened by the determination of his own fire to never let himself be used like that again. It completely crumbled when the second finger slipped inside with only a slight burn and Potter began to scissor him open. "You absolute pillock," he moaned as he dropped to his elbows. "Piss off, I don't want to be owned."
"Oh yes, that sounds convincing when you say it like that," Potter teased in a lighter tone, then he switched back to the darker one. "You're so tight, Draco. It's like you've never had someone up your ass."
Draco dropped his forehead on the ground and began to force himself to relax his arse rather than reply.
"Guess I'm right. A bit of a surprise since I have heard you've gotten around." He felt a third finger begin to touch, but it was only pressing the outside of his rim rather than trying to push in. The scissoring also gentled a little, but it didn't stop. "Would explain why your pucker was so pink and pretty. I thought you used spells or potions to make it look so tempting."
"Shut up, Potter," Draco snapped without heat. He hadn't lifted his head, either, so the floor muffled his words a little more and made it sound like a complaint rather than the demand that Draco was trying for. "Just get it over with so I can leave the country."
Potter's hand stilled and Draco felt the cold claws of dread claw its way up his chest. "Part of me wants to let you know that you aren't leaving without devoting yourself or your body to me," Potter purred. The two fingers inside him curled enough to press against his prostate and Draco mentally prepared himself for some kind of punishment. "The other part is willing to let you leave now if you really want to."
Draco screamed when Potter released a short burst of magic, but it was from an unexpectedly high amount of pleasure rather than the pain he had prepared himself for. It was over in the blink of an eye, and then he felt empty since Potter pulled his fingers out. The tease had lasted long enough to give Draco an unforgettable taste of heaven, but it was far too short for more than a tiny taste and Draco's everything protested the loss.
"I suppose you have a decision to make, Draco," Potter said after Draco swallowed the rest of his scream and bit down on his tongue hard enough to taste blood. "Three choices, really. Leave the country, devote your all to me, or devote your body to me. I'll give you three days to find me if you decide on one of the last two, but if I find you still in Britain without giving me your decision after the third day, I'll assume you want me to make it for you. I hope you won't regret anything in the years to come."
There was no sound of apparition, but just as Draco had sensed Potter without seeing or hearing him, Draco knew he was gone since the room felt just as empty as his insides did. Potter had completely taken him apart, humiliated him, and made him burn for more, then he had left Draco with his pants pulled down just enough to know he had been played with and a drying mess to clean off the floor.
Draco absolutely knew he would regret leaving Britain now, but the worst part was that he also knew that if he sought Potter out, he would have to beg for one of the other two options. Draco buried his face in his arms and whined. He was so fucked.