The rattling of the metal cage door being unlocked awakened Harry as they came to retrieve him. He was roughly lifted into a standing position and then partly shoved, partly dragged, out of the cage by two hooded Death Eaters. They carried him through the small darkened room beyond and into a larger open structure with skylights overhead. After so long in the darkness, Harry was blinded by the daylight he encountered there.

The seventeen year old wizard known as Harry Potter was frightened as he was dragged forward, both for himself and for his friends. By his best reckoning, it had been about two weeks since he had been captured by Death Eaters. As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry and his friends, and their allies, had fought against the rise to power of the evil dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort. But it had all gone terribly wrong. The leader of their Order, Albus Dumbledore, had been brutally murdered only a few months earlier. In a brilliant coup d’etat, Voldemort had capitalized on the disorganization of his enemies to seize control of the Ministry of Magic in Britain.

Harry knew that he would be a key target of Voldemort’s revenge and had tried to hide, but to no avail. Voldemort had used powerful dark magic to attach a locator charm to the saying of his name. The charm allowed his minions to Apparate instantly to the location of anyone who spoke his name out loud. Despite having been told repeatedly to never speak Voldemort’s name by more experienced wizards, Harry, in his usual hardheaded way, ignored their warnings. He had blurted out Voldemort’s name without thinking and had drawn the enemy right to him.

Before he could attempt to flee, Harry had been stunned by a Stupify curse and taken prisoner. They had immediately striped him naked and placed a black bag with a small opening for air at the bottom over his head. Carried to some unknown place, Harry had been suspended by his wrists and questioned to learn the whereabouts of his friends. He didn’t know the location of his friends; they had deliberately isolated themselves from each other in case one was captured.

Harry had told them repeatedly during the grueling interrogation that he didn’t know where the others were, but they were not inclined to believe him. The pain in his shoulder and arm joints became intense as he hung there. His captors had promised him freedom if he would just cooperate, that his friends would not be harmed if they surrendered peacefully. They only wanted to find them so that they could talk sense to them, not to hurt them. Harry knew it was all lies. The bag over his head had left him blind to his surroundings and had muffled the voices of his interrogators making them hard to recognize, but one voice he knew too well not to recognize, that of Bellatrix LeStrange.

Bellatrix had arrived to take over the interrogation when it was obvious that Harry wasn’t going to be tricked into revealing the location of the Weasley’s. She immediately dropped the pretense that no harm would befall his friends with her usual knack for cruelty.

“Where are the Weasley’s hiding, Harry?” she yelled at him while viciously pulling and squeezing his testicles with one hand while slapping his face repeatedly through the bag with the other. “They’re sitting there safe, all fat and happy with their feet up while you’re here suffering. They’re not coming to save you, boy; nobody is coming to help you. For once in your life act like you have some sense, Harry. Don’t throw away your precious life for those that don’t give a shit about you. You’re still so young, with so much of time left to you. Surely you don’t want to lose it all, to die so painfully, because of them.”

“I don’t know where they are —“

“LIAR!” Bella screamed viciously and hit Harry again in the side of his head. Harry could taste the blood in his mouth, his head throbbed horribly, and the gut wrenching pain in his groin from his bruised testicles was relentless. This was a lot worse than the times Uncle Vernon had swatted him along side his head.

“I’m not the Secret Keeper …,” sobbed Harry, against the pain.

“Bella, the boy is too obvious a choice,” came a muffled voice from the distance, it was familiar, but Harry couldn’t place it with the ringing in his ears.

“If you’re not their Secret Keeper, then who is?” Bellatrix demanded, her mouth pressed to Harry’s ear. “Who would it be then? Where can they be found? If you want to save yourself, then give me another instead.”

Harry knew who was the likely choice to be the Secret Keeper, but he knew that even if he gave her up, they would not let him go. Not that for one moment he intended to give Hermione up to these bastards. “I don’t know,” Harry muttered weakly as he shook his head. Bellatrix screamed as Harry’s obstinacy had tried her patience to the limit. She switched over to using the Cruciatus curse, which projected intense pain through the victim’s nervous system.

Harry felt a long round object, like a roll of leather forced into his mouth through the fabric of the hood. Bella had ordered it placed there to gag his screams, and to prevent him from biting off his tongue. She then proceeded to use the curse on Harry, holding him under the effects in short bursts. She had learned from the unfortunate experience with the Longbottoms. The key was control, the proper application of torture required that the pain be unbearable, and properly controlled. Her mistake with Frank and Alice Longbottom had been that she had lost control of her emotions and applied the curse too long. The nervous system had collapsed instead of breaking. Instead of talking, they had become babbling lunatics. This wouldn’t be allowed to happen here.

Now she studied her victim’s contortions with scientific impassion, she could see when Harry was nearing collapse, and she backed off to allow him to recuperate just enough to withstand the next application. Harry struggled to resist as the pain coursed through his body. They wanted information from him to use to kill his friends. Harry had no doubts that he would die for his silence, but he would not betray his friends to their deaths. That thought alone, that he was saving his friends, gave Harry the will and strength to withstand the Cruciatus and deny Bellatrix.

Finally, Bellatrix stopped, or rather, was stopped by the muffled voice that Harry couldn’t make out. To Harry it was a blessed respite, but he knew they would return. Somewhere in his thoughts Harry passed out, when he was brought to by several hard slaps in the face a new Death Eater had joined them, one whose voice Harry easily recognized.

“How fucking long does it take to make that stuff?” asked Bellatrix. “The Master has given breaking the boy our highest priority.”

“The potion can not be hurried,” answered Severus Snape. “And you are not the only one who has need of it to accomplish the Master’s orders. Why didn’t you just use the Cruciatus on him till he talked?”

“I have, but he is remarkably resilient, and I must not go too far. The Master has ordered that Potter be left alive and sane. The boy is to be given as a prize to our host when this is done.”

“No matter, this will break him down to where you can extract what you need,” said Snape. “I will inject it into his carotid artery, allow one full minute for the potion to act and he is yours. You two hold his head while I inject him.”

Strong hands grabbed Harry’s head and held it steady, he tried to move, to pull away, but it was no use. He screamed in pain as he felt the sharp stick of a hypodermic needle being jabbed into the side of his neck. Immediately there was a cold chill inside him, it was almost as if he were in the presence of a Dementor. Harry tried to focus his thoughts but couldn’t. His mind became a complete jumble of thoughts, and the only thing his mind could focus on was the pain in his arms and shoulders.

“All right then, that’s a minute,” said Bellatrix after a bit. “So let’s try this again shall we? CRUCIO!”

Harry screamed into the blackness of the bag over his head, his body spasmed and lurched against the restrains, but to no use. Harry couldn’t go on, between the combined effects of the pain, the fear, the starvation, and the potion Snape had given him, his will to resist completely broke down. He started babbling, begging her to stop, that he would do anything if she would just stop hurting him. He just wanted the god-awful pain to stop, nothing else mattered. Everything that followed after that was fuzzy, and Harry remembered nothing more of it until he had been awakened in the metal barred cell.

+++

Now, as his eyes adjusted to the light streaming in from above he saw that he was in a large wood and stone stable building with a number of horses resting quietly in a double row of stalls, in front of him was a fenced in riding arena with a dirt and sawdust floor. In the center of the ring was a raised round platform with a large wooden support post rising up to the peaked roof. Some object or such was attached to the post, but with his glasses long since lost, Harry couldn’t clearly make it out. It looked like an old gunny sack suspended there and tied off to the post. Off to the side was what appeared to be a small smithy shop with a forge and anvil and blacksmith type tools hanging on the walls. Whoever owned this had money, thought Harry, and lots of it. That alone led Harry to guess who was behind his captivity, the Malfoys. That his guess was correct was shortly confirmed as he recognized the mounted rider lazily loping around the arena.

An impeccably dressed Lucius Malfoy was mounted upon a magnificent steed, and rode in looping circles around the arena in a fashion that showed he was an expert horseman. Harry was brought into the arena and made to kneel on the dirt and sawdust floor.

“Welcome to the grounds of Malfoy Manor, Mr. Potter, I trust you’ve found your accommodations to your liking?” Lucius asked with sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Fuck you, Malfoy!” Harry shouted out, only to immediately follow it with a howl of pain as the Death Eater to his right punched him hard over the kidney with his fist.

“Now, now, Dolohov,” chided Malfoy, with a condescending grin. “Mr. Potter is entitled to voice his opinion under the circumstances. I admit I had my moments of chagrin while I languished in Azkaban, and a great deal of my venom was directed at our Mr. Potter here. So it’s only fair that we allow him his moment in return. Not that it will do you any good to curse either your luck or me. What’s done is done. The Dark Lord is victorious. His enemies are either dead, within his power, or scattered and fleeing in fear.”

“And now you are going to kill me,” said Harry in a despondent voice that showed he was resigned to his fate. “Just go ahead and do it.”

“Oh, no, Harry, I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Lucius in a condescending tone of voice. “I admit the Dark Lord considered having you executed, but I dissuaded him of the idea. I told him it would only create a martyr for any remaining enemies to gather around, but I admit I actually had quite selfish reasons in seeking a reprieve for you. You see I never forget an old debt, and you owe me, Harry. First of all, five years ago you cost me the services of a certain valuable house elf. I trust you remember?”

Harry remembered. He had tricked Malfoy into freeing a house elf named Dobby. Malfoy had been furious at him for it and promised to seek revenge upon Harry for the incident.

“Then you were responsible for my incarceration in Azkaban where I was forced to cool my heels until the Dark Lord could retrieve me. It was quite embarrassing, and painful, when I was called to task for my failure to retrieve the prophesy for him. The Dark Lord does not easily forgive failure. Still, I was able to accept the punishment handed down to me, and restore my standing in the Dark Lord’s eyes. The Dark Lord felt obliged to offer me a reward for my later services, and since you robbed me of my property, I convinced the Dark Lord to allow me to take you as restitution. Therefore, you shall become a family slave, in specific, you shall be responsible for my stables and my horses. You will feed them, water them, wash them, and clean up after them. You will be responsible for them, and will be severely punished by my new overseer if you are negligent in any way in your duties.”

Lucius shifted his gaze to the Death Eater standing at Harry’s left. “Perhaps you would care to introduce yourself to the boy.”

“Oh, I think Potter knows me by now,” came the reply. Harry knew the man by his voice, it was Argus Filch, the former custodian at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Filtch removed the mask that had previously hidden his face and leered down at Harry with an evil grin.

“Mr. Filch’s family has been in the employ of the Malfoys for some time. We loaned him out to Hogwarts for a while, to serve as my eyes and ears there, but he has come home now. Filch, you and Dolohov, may continue on with your regular duties now, Harry is good hands.” Filtch nudged Dolohov, and the two left out the large main door at the opposite side of the riding ring, pausing for a moment to stop, look, and laugh at the gunny sack tied to the support beam in the center of the ring.

“And then there is the recent service you performed for the Dark Lord,” said Lucius with a smile. “I am happy to inform you that he was extremely pleased with the results of your cooperation.”

“What cooperation?” asked Harry. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Well then, let me get you up to speed. The blood traitor Weasley family was able to cast the spells necessary to hide their home from us, much like your parents did. Through your kind cooperation we were able to learn of their location. We caught them by surprise, and were able to bag the whole lot of them a few days ago. As a bonus, we even found the Longbottom’s and Lovegood’s hiding there with them. The whole lot of them are in Azkaban as we speak.”

NO, no,” screamed Harry. “You can’t do that! You won’t get away with it.”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong, Potter,” said Malfoy as he brought his horse to a stop in from of Harry. “We can do it, because we already have, and we will get away with it, because we already are. Would you like to know why?”

Harry didn’t answer. He just looked down at the dirt floor beneath his knees. What had he done? Had he really betrayed his friends?

“Tell me, Potter, do you know what the phrase ‘Vae Victis’ means?” asked Lucius Malfoy, ignoring Harry’s silence.

Harry slowly shook his head in the negative.

“No, of course you wouldn’t, how foolish of me to even ask such a thing. It’s something that only educated people would know about. It’s Latin, it means ‘woe to the conquered.’ It is the concept that in war the loser is at the mercy of the victor and must abide by whatever the victor decrees; and this is the situation you and your friends find yourselves in now, that of losers.

“The Weasleys are blood traitors to their kind, they have all been apprehended, tried, convicted, and sent to Azkaban prison, of which I am now the newly appointed Governor. There they shall receive … oh, shall we say … political reeducation … concerning the new order. If they sincerely embrace the Dark Lord, and his philosophy, then there is hope that he may permit them to return to magical society, and if not, they will all rot in prison. However, the situation is different for your little Miss. know-it-all Mudblood friend here. There is no place for her kind in the new order, no second chance for her, I’m afraid.”

Harry’s head quickly jerked up at the mention that Hermione was nearby. “Hermione! Where is she? I want to see her.”

“But of course, Harry, she’s right over there,” Lucius said while pointing at the object Harry had at first thought to be a gunny sack tied to the post. “Feel free to mingle and chit-chat, while I finish my ride.”

Harry struggled to his feet and ran as best he could over to the post in the center of the riding arena. The sight he saw chilled him to his soul. It was Hermione. She was still alive, but just barely. She had been striped naked and had her hands tied behind her back, then she had been suspended by her wrists. The unnatural angle of her arms showed that both her shoulders were dislocated. She had probably been repeatedly raised up by the rope and pulley attached to the post, and then dropped. The weight of her body had pulled her arm joints out of their sockets. There were also marks upon her body similar to those on Harry, which indicated Hermione had been repeatedly subjected to the Cruciatus curse as well.

Hermione slowly raised her head to look down at Harry. He could clearly see the torment in her face as she focused on him, and a look of recognition came to her tear filled eyes.

“Harry,” she weakly whispered. “I’m so sorry …” Her head nodded down to her chest as her voice trailed off. Harry rushed up and wrapped his arms around her thighs and tried to lift her, to take the strain off her injured shoulders.

“It’s all right, Hermione,” he cried. “It’s going to be all right. I’m going to help you, we’re going to see this through together.”

“It must simply be wonderful to be a Gryffindor,” shouted Lucius Malfoy as he casually loped around the arena on his horse. “All this exuberant optimism you lot seem to possess in the face of adversity. I mean, just how do you nutters manage to totally ignore reality in every situation, regardless of how sodding hopeless it is?”

“Please, let her down,” Harry said, turning towards Malfoy. “I’ll do whatever you want, please help her, please. It’s me you want, not her.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Potter. Actually, it was her that we wanted; she was the Weasley’s Secret Keeper. With some persuasion from Bellatrix and Severus, you broke and spilled everything you knew about your blood traitor friends. Thanks to you, we were able to determine the Secret Keeper was the Mudblood Granger girl. You then revealed information to us that the stupid little bitch had told you about her family life and habits. Through you, we captured them at their family summer home. She was obstinate under interrogation much as you were. We tortured her parents to death in front of her and she still refused to disclose her secret. But no one can hold out forever, eventually we were able to overcome her resistance and she told us where to find Arthur Weasley and all his git. So you, and she, have already played your part, the Dark Lord has no further use for either of you.”

That’s why he didn’t remember what had happened, thought Harry in a moment of horror. He had given in, he had betrayed Hermione and Ron, … and Ginny too. They were all going to die because of him. Harry’s legs began to sway as he stood there in his grief. In his weakened state, Harry could not continue to support Hermione, but he hesitated to let go of her. He didn’t know what to do, and he belatedly realized the position he was in was embarrassing as his face was almost level with Hermione’s exposed crotch.

“Damn, Potter, if you’re up for a spot of muff-diving with a Mudblood, at least do get a room somewhere,” came a familiar voice from behind him. It was Lucius’ son, Draco Malfoy. “I mean that’s just disgusting, don’t you think so, Pansy?”

“Yes, indeed,” chimed in Pansy Parkinson, Draco’s girlfriend from Hogwarts. “Look at the state of her, you’d think she’d at least wash it before she asked you to go down in it.”

Harry shifted his head to see the two of them standing in the doorway laughing at them. They were dressed as though preparing to go out for the evening. Draco was in a suit that probably cost a thousand quid; and Pansy was wearing a backless mid-thigh length evening dress with a very revealing ‘V’ cut in front, and strappy high heels. Hand in hand they walked around the arena over to where Lucius Malfoy now sat quietly on his horse.

“Hello, Father,” said Draco. “Pansy and I were going out for the evening, and we wanted to drop by and see how things were progressing here before we left.”

“Celebrating our new appointment, are we?” Lucius asked.

“Yes, Sir,” answered a beaming Draco. “Hey, Potter, have you heard the good news? I’ve been summarily appointed a senior Auror by the Ministry. I’m the fuzz now, and I’m afraid I shall have to caution you to pull your face out of Granger’s snatch before I have to pinch you for public indecency, you bloody pervert.”

Harry heard their laughter, but Draco’s jibes meant nothing to him at this point. He had to do something to help Hermione, and he only saw one recourse. Unable to support her any longer, Harry lowered Hermione as gently as he could. She gave a short moan of pain as her arms took up the weight of her body again. Harry staggered over to where Lucius Malfoy sat dispassionately on his horse watching him. He lowered himself to his knees in the sawdust and slowly interlaced his fingers before him in a sign of pleading.

“Please help her, you have what you want. You’ve won. There is no reason to leave her in such pain.”

“You are exactly right, Harry,” said Lucius with slow and deliberate words. “And I assure you I have no intention of leaving her in such a state of profound suffering. In fact, her relief is now at hand as I hear her ride approaching.”

Behind him, Harry heard the sound of creaking wagon wheels as Filch pushed a handcart loaded with food scraps and garbage from the kitchen in to the edge of the riding arena.

“Ah, Filch, come on in, we have some additional refuse for you to cart away for us,” said Lucius. He motioned for Filch to push the cart over to where Hermione was suspended. Once he had complied, Filch stood there grinning manically as he seemed to know what Lucius Malfoy had in store for the Granger girl.

As Harry watched in horror, Lucius Malfoy drew his wand from beneath his riding jacket and pointed it at Hermione. “AVADA KADAVRA!” he shouted. There was a flash of green light that shot out from the wand tip and struck Hermione in the chest. Her writhing body instantly became motionless.

“Nooooo,” screamed Harry as he summoned what remaining energy he had left to rise up and try to go to Hermione. But he had barely gotten to his feet and started running towards Filch when he heard the rapid clopping of horse hooves behind him as Lucius Malfoy set out to stop him. Before Harry could even get to her body, Lucius caught up to him and used the sole of his boot to stomp him hard in the back, sending him face first into the ground. Harry could hear the peals of hysterical laughter coming from Draco and Pansy as he wallowed helplessly trying to get back on his feet again.

With a swish and flick of his wand, Lucius parted the rope holding Hermione’s body, and allowed it to drop into the waiting rubbish cart below. Filch then calmly began to push the cart on through the stable area and out the back entrance.

“I don’t suppose anyone would care to tell me where he’s going with her?” asked Pansy, as the squeaking sounds of the cart wheels faded into the distance.

“Father enjoys several amusements besides riding and horse breeding,” said Draco. “One of these is hunting; he breeds his own stock of game animals to replenish our woodlands.”

“So he has a deer herd, or something?” asked Pansy with a puzzled look upon her face.

“Deer, pheasant … and wild boar,” said Draco with a smirk. “They are really quite vicious brutes too, and they’ll eat anything dumped in their pit. They normally eat the kitchen scraps, but they favor a spot of fresh meat when they get it.”

“Please don’t, please don’t do that to Hermione, I’ll do anything you want, please let me bury her,” bleated Harry pathetically as he watched Filch stop the cart at the edge of a concrete abutment several hundred yards behind the stables. With his foot, Filch tipped the cart up, spilling its contents into the unseen pit beyond. Immediately there was the raucous noise of the squealing of pigs as they discovered the bounty of fresh meat flung in their midst. Harry lay there helpless as he heard the gluttonous squeals and grunts from the swine as they feasted. While, standing on the lip of the pit, Filch danced a little gig of delight as he witnessed the spectacle of horror below. His bloodlust apparently finally sated, Filtch stepped away from the pit and began the walk back to the barn pushing the now empty handcart before, while whistling a jaunty little tune.

Draco walked over to stand beside his father as Lucius dismounted and stood before Harry. “I bet that’s something she never read about in Hogwarts: A History, eh, Pansy?” Draco asked, as a laughing Pansy shook her head in the negative.

“You still don’t get it, do you, Potter?” sneered Lucius, directing his attention back to Harry. “You’ll do as I say anyway. I’m going to see to that. I own you, and there isn’t shit you can do about it.”

With a scream of rage, Harry came up off the ground and lunged at Lucius Malfoy, intent upon ripping him to pieces with his bare hands for killing Hermione. With a sneer of contempt, Lucius pointed his wand at Harry. “Stupify,” he said in an almost bored tone of voice. The force of the curse slammed into Harry, and combined with his already weakened condition, drove him to his knees. Lucius followed this up by casually walking up to Harry and stomping him hard in the chest with the sole of his boot leaving him lying face up on the dirt floor of the arena.

“I know what your problem is, Potter,” an angry Lucius Malfoy spit out at Harry as he stood over him. “You have a problem with anger management, a common personality defect found in Gryffindors such as yourself and your friends. I’ve always known it would be your undoing, it’s only by extreme luck, and the sacrifice of others, that you lasted this long. But there is good news, thanks to my horse breeding experience I know how to help you learn to control these outbursts.”

“Father,” said Draco, expectantly, “are you planning on controlling his aggressive tendencies the way we do with the horses?”

“Yes, Draco,” replied Lucius. “The Dark Lord has just notified me that he has formally placed Potter in my hands.”

“Then I beg you to let me do it. Please, Father. You’ve trained me well in the procedure; I know how to do it, and I can start right now.”

Lucius Malfoy looked at his son’s face carefully, then at Potter; finally a slow smile spread across his face as he made his decision. “All right then, Draco. I will entrust him to you. Considerate it my congratulatory gift on your new appointment. Filch will stay and help. Since your mother is still on her shopping trip to Milan, it would be a good opportunity for me to go out to Azkaban and catch up on some administrative paperwork with my new assistant.”

“Thank you, Father,” beamed Draco. “I promise you will not be disappointed.”

With that, Lucius gave Harry one last look, smiled in a very cruel sort of way, and then Disapparated from the stable. Filch took the horse that Lucius had been riding back to its stall and began removing its saddle and tackle.

“But I thought we were going into London to go clubbing, baby,” whined Pansy. “I want to have some fun tonight.”

“Trust me, this will be fun, for some of us anyway,” said Draco, with a nasty look towards Harry as he said the last part. “We can still make it into town in plenty of time.”

“But what are you going to do?” she asked. Harry watched as Draco led Pansy off a bit and whispered to her while pointing at Harry, and at the area of the stable with the smithy shop.

“Oh shit! …You’re kidding? … Really?” asked Pansy excitedly.

“You want to watch, or Apparate back to the house and wait for me?” asked Draco.

“Oh fuck watching, I want to do it. Please, please, let me do it,” she pleaded.

“You don’t know how.”

“But you do, you can show me,” she said. “Let me be the one to do it and I’ll be grateful.”

“How grateful?”

“Very, very grateful,” Pansy replied in a low sexy voice, as her hand dropped to gently nuzzle the front of Draco’s trousers. With a short laugh, Draco turned and used his wand to levitate Harry out of the dirt of the riding ring and over to a large heavy wooden workbench in the smithy shop. The table was about six feet long and three feet wide. As Harry lay on the table surface, a flick of Draco’s wand caused the iron shackles laying on the concrete floor to affix themselves to his wrist and pull it under the table to connect to the other wrist. Similar shackles grasp his ankle and pulled his leg beneath the bench, and joined to the other ankle. Ropes appeared from under the table to tightly bind Harry at the neck, chest, belly, and hip so that he could barely wiggle. Looking at the position he had been left bound in, with his legs wide apart, Harry began to have really bad feelings about what was about to happen.

Draco led Pansy over to stand beside Harry. Draco looked over Harry’s bindings and was satisfied with what he saw. Harry wasn’t going anywhere.

“All right, baby, what do I do first?” asked an excited Pansy.

“First of all,” he said with a leering smile, “I want you to show me some of that gratitude you promised me.”

“No problem, baby,” said Pansy. Looking around the immediate area, Pansy spied what she was looking for. She took a horse blanket from a stack of them on a nearby shelf. Returning to Draco’s side, she transfigured the coarse blanket into a lush satin covered pillow, which she dropped on the floor at Draco’s feet. Draping her arms around Draco’s neck, she softly and sensually kissed his lips and then shifted to kiss the side of his neck. Holding to the lapels of his jacket, she then slowly slid herself down his body until her knees rested upon the pillow.

“One king sized serving of gratitude for my man coming right up,” she whispered as she looked into Draco’s cold blue eyes. Harry watched as she slowly loosened Draco’s belt and unzipped the fly of his trousers. Reaching inside his trousers and pants, Pansy carefully extracted Draco’s genitals, and started playing with them. As she gently stroked him, Draco began to have an erection form in her hand.

“Gratitude doesn’t mean a hand job, baby,” said Draco.

“I know, this is just the warm up phase,” she replied cheerfully, softly biting her lower lip as she looked at her well endowed lover’s tumescent cock with growing desire. When she felt he was ready for her, Pansy ran the tip of her tongue around the head of Draco’s cock, moaning pleasurably as she did so. “Ummm, you taste so good, baby,” she cooed. “I want more of this in my mouth.”

Gradually, Pansy took more and more of Draco’s length into her mouth until her lips were at the base of his cock and Draco’s balls were nestled against her chin. For a moment, Pansy paused to look up and meet Draco’s eyes. Her lips upturned at the edges as she gave the best smile she could under the circumstances, and she winked; then her head began to bob back and forth as she fucked Draco with her mouth. Draco immediately responded with a gasp of pleasure and threw his head back.

“Oh yeah, baby, that’s so good,” he gasp.

Pansy sucked his erection furiously till she needed to come up for air. As she breathed deeply, she went back to stroking the shaft with her hand while using her tongue on the tip of Draco’s cock, this time licking away the first droplets of pre-cum that had already begun to weep out. After catching her breath, Pansy took the head of Draco’s cock back into her mouth, this time dragging her lips across the smooth soft tissue of the glans to pleasure her partner, while lightly running the edges of her teeth over the ridge at the back of the glans.

“Playtime’s over, baby,” gasped Draco. “Back to business.” Intertwining his hands in her blonde hair, Draco forced her head down making her take him deep inside her mouth again, then he began to actively stroke into her mouth.

With look to the side, Draco saw Harry’s eyes fixed upon him and Pansy having sex. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’ll be done in a bit and then we can start on your training program.”

Harry watched on as for several more minutes Pansy pleasured Draco while he alternately moaned loudly and sighed contentedly, then Draco began to quicken his thrusts.

“I need to cum, baby,” he said as he put his right hand under Pansy’s chin and pulled her head back from his cock, while with his right he circled his thumb and forefinger around the base of his erection to aim it like a gun at her open mouth.

“Target practice time,” he said as Pansy stuck out her tongue and quickly flitted it underneath the swollen glans of the penis. With a quick grunt and a soft sigh, Harry saw Draco’s testicles rise slightly, and the urethra swell as it filled with his semen. From the opening came a thick white stream of hot semen that squirted under pressure into Pansy’s waiting mouth. Several times over the next few seconds the stream started to falter then would recover as the spurts of semen were ejaculated. Finally, the stream dropped off with the thick liquid splashing onto Pansy’s cheek and chin.

“Bull’s-eye! Oh, that was fantastic, baby,” said Draco with a contented sigh. He reached down and used his index finger to wipe up the ejaculate on her face and hold it before her. She obligingly opened her mouth and licked the thick semen on his finger into her mouth. She looked up at Draco, met his blue eyes with her own and smiled, then made as if to swallow his semen.

“No, no, baby, don’t do that,” said Draco quickly, while he returned his genitals to his pants and straightened out his clothing. She looked up at him with a hurt look in her eyes, but Draco merely smiled down at her and winked as he finished zipping up his trousers.

“We are forgetting about our guest, Pansy,” drawled Draco, with an evil grin spreading across his face, and a nod of his head towards Harry. “We should let Harry in on our fun. Hey Harry … open your mouth, close your eyes, and Pansy will give you a big surprise.”

Harry looked at the smile coming on Pansy’s face and realized what Draco intended, he refused to open his mouth. Draco picked up a hammer from the worktable near the bench and forced the hard wooden handle down on Harry’s chin, while using the thumb and forefinger of the other hand to pinch Harry’s nostrils together.

“You ruined my surprise. Oh, well, no matter, you’ve got to come up for air sometime,” jibed Draco with sadistic glee in his voice. Harry tried to hold out but his air supply quickly gave out, he had to breathe, his mouth open against his will. The hard handle pressing down on his chin locked his mouth open while Harry heard the clip-clopping of Pansy’s high heels as she casually walked around the bench and leaned over Harry’s face until her lips were only a few inches above Harry’s. As Harry gasped to draw in a deep breath of air into his straining lungs, Pansy made a loud expectorating sound and spat Draco’s ejaculate and her own phlegm into the back of Harry’s mouth. Harry started to gag as the hot slimy mass hit against his tonsils, but Draco had reacted quickly to shut Harry’s mouth and clamp it closed from below his chin, while still holding Harry’s nostrils closed.

“Now why don’t you be a good boy and give Miss. Parkinson a nice big swallow to show her how much you appreciate her sharing with you,” said Draco. “Besides, you’re going to find your regular diet doesn’t include much in the way of high protein nourishment, so you’d better enjoy what little you get.”

Gagging and running out of oxygen again, Harry was forced to swallow the hot mass. His empty stomach rebelled against slime sent into it and bile forced its upward. Harry struggled to open his mouth and vomit, but Draco maintained pressure on his jaw to hold it all in. In desperation, Harry forced himself to swallow the bile and semen back into his system. When he calmed down a bit, Draco released his nostrils and allowed him to take deep breaths of air into his lungs to help settle his stomach.

“There now,” said Draco, “that wasn’t so bad, was it.”

Pansy returned to Draco’s side and took his hand in hers. “Did I earn the privilege to help out with the anger management session?”

Draco produced a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped Pansy’s lips, before kissing her. “Yes you have, my dear. Filch, bring the tools.”

Filch hurried over to the bench carrying a wooden box. From the tools located along the wall of the shop he reached down a set of flat iron tongs with wooden handles. With a bow, he handed the box and the tongs to Draco. Draco stepped over to the blacksmith’s forge and with a wave of his wand caused the coals to ignite into a mass of hot flames. Harry could feel the heat off of it almost immediately. As he watched in growing horror, Harry saw Draco set the flat ends of the iron tongs into the flames to heat.

“There’s a lot of hard and nasty work involved in keeping horses, as you will find out soon enough, Potter,” said Draco casually. “One necessary task is dealing with the fact that stallions don’t always play well together. They exhibit a lot of anger and violence towards others, just as you do, but luckily there is a well documented means of calming them down. It’s called gelding, and that’s what’s about to happen to you, Potter.”

“And I get to do it,” shouted Pansy, with glee.

“You get to do one, baby, I retain all claim to the second,” replied Draco.

“Oh well, half a nutting is better than no nutting, I guess,” she said philosophically. “How do we start?”

“First we need to prepare Harry for the procedure,” said Draco as he pointed his wand at Harry. “Rennervate.”

Harry was immediately shocked wide-awake, his body at full attention. Harry even began to feel an erection starting. With a few motions of his wand Draco made the legs of the table which supported Harry’s upper body shorter so that he was now angled in a head downward position on the table.

“Why did you do that, Draco, he wasn’t unconscious?” asked Pansy, as she bent over to look at Harry’s swelling cock.

“I know, and now he won’t be able to for the immediate future either,” came Draco’s reply. “The tilt also means his brain will get plenty of blood to keep the pain receptors fully active while we work on him.”

“Speaking of which, he could use a bath,” said Pansy with a grimace.

“Yeah, you’re right, we need to clean him up a bit because, quite frankly, Harry, you stink. Scourgify.” The dirt and grim that had coated Harry’s body evaporated into a mist leaving him clean.

“Hey, ickle fellar,” teased Pansy as she stared down at Harry’s stiffening cock. “Guess what? You’re about to lose your two best friends in the whole wide world.”

“All right, Pansy,” chided Draco. “Harry has enough on his mind right now without you distracting him. Anyway, you have work to do.”

“Now, first, you’ll need a very sharp knife,” said Draco as he drew a short knife in a sheath from the box. “Before we can use it we need to purify the blade with fire so poor Harry doesn’t get a nasty infection.”

“We certainly wouldn’t want that,” said Pansy as she looked down at Harry with a fake look of concern for his welfare. Taking the blade from its sheath, Draco held it in the flames of the brazier for a few moments, then calmly blew on it to cool it. Harry could see the waves of heat coming from the surface of the metal, his throat tightened as he realized what was coming next.

“This brings us to the messy part of the procedure,” said Draco calmly. “And since we are wearing our good partying clothing, we shall need a bit of protection before we begin.” With his wand, Draco materialized two laboratory coats for himself and Pansy to put on. “And we will need latex gloves to protect our hands from spilled bodily fluids.”

“Absolutely,” said Pansy as she put on the latex gloves that Draco produced for them. “I just had my nails done this morning.”

“Now we are properly attired to begin,” said Draco as he handed the knife to Pansy and guided her as she stretched the skin of Harry’s scrotum on the left side and plunged the tip of the blade into his skin. Harry gritted his teeth against the burning pain as she drew the blade downward creating a slit several inches long.

“All right, just reach in, pull out his nut, and stretch it out,” said Draco. Harry’s body spasmed as he felt the fingers of another person reach inside him and gingerly draw out his testicle. The feeling of the cold air rushing over his organ caused him to tremble, the spermatic cord tried to draw the testicle up into the warmer regions of the body that was no longer there, but Pansy maintained pressure to keep the orb stretched out from the body.

“I bet that’s an odd feeling, eh, Harry?” said Draco.

“So that’s the actual nut that makes all the jizzm and stuff,” said an excited Pansy, not at all revolted by the blood from the incision and testicle she was playfully rolling between her thumb and forefinger. “But what’s the long stringy thing?”

“That, my dear, is the spermatic cord with connects the nut back to the body,” answered Draco. “It is chock full of blood vessels, the tube that carries the little baby makers back to where they can be shot out of the dick, and, most importantly, lots and lots of delicate nerve fibers.”

“Ooh, that’s why they’re so sensitive then,” cooed Pansy.

“Absolutely, it’s all those nerves that make it feel so good when a man cums after his hot and sexy girlfriend gives him a wonderful blow job,” said Draco while he gave Pansy a playful little snog. “But the downside is they also make it hurt so badly when they are abused.”

“Such as what is about to happen now?”

“Exactly,” replied Draco as he reached into the wooden box and drew out a length of thin twine. “First we have to tie off the top of the cord so that it doesn’t pop back up into the abdomen when we cut the cord. We can pull it back out with this.”

Draco tied the end of the string around the cord and fastened it with a slipknot. Then he retrieved a second knife in a highly decorated sheath from the box. Withdrawing the blackened blade from the sheath, Harry saw that it faintly glowed. He knew from his conversations with Professor Lupin what that meant.

Draco saw Harry’s eyes widen in realization and laughed. “You know what this is, don’t you, Harry?”

Turning to Pansy, he showed her the knife. “This is a cursed blade,” he explained as he turned back to peer down at Harry. “The gift that keeps on giving. Flesh cut with this will never truly heal. Nerves severed with this will always remain tender and painful. With this, you won’t need a Pensieve to remember this day. You’ll be reminded every waking moment by a dull ache that won’t stop throbbing; and every time you take a step there will be a twinge of pain as the nerve moves. This is something you use when you really want to make a statement, and it’s what we’ll use to make the final cut.”

“But, Draco darling, if it doesn’t heal and I cut his nut out with that, won’t he bleed to death?”

“Not if the ends are seared shut,” answered Draco with a nod of his head towards the tongs now glowing red hot in the flames of the forge.

“Nooooo, please don’t, please no,” screamed Harry as his mind panicked at the thought of the fate about to befall him. But looking in the ice cold blue eyes that stared down at him only told him that his pleas would only fall on deaf ears.

Carefully handing the cursed blade to Pansy, Draco had her position the knife to cut the spermatic cord. As the blade sawed through Harry’s flesh it gave off little sparks as the dark magic of the cursed metal was passed to settle in Harry’s flesh where it would cause Harry to suffer residual pain as long as he lived. As she slowly worked the blade back and forth, Pansy would give little squeals of delight as she saw the effect she was having on Harry. Fastened to the bench with sweat pouring from every pore on his body, Harry strained against the bonds holding him, the seething pain was almost as bad as the Cruciatus he had endured under Bellatrix. Tears of pain freely ran down his cheeks as he fervently prayed for blessed unconsciousness, or death. When the cord was severed the upper end slipped into the scrotum incision. Pansy was left holding Harry’s testicle.

“Wow, look at all the squiggly blood vessels and shit,” she said excitedly.

“Yep,” said Draco. “That’s where the baby makers come from.”

“Well, this one’s no good anymore,” she said with a laugh, and casually threw the severed ball over her shoulder and into the sawdust and dirt of the nearby arena. “Now what?”

“Pull the cord end out using the string and I’ll get the tongs.”

As Pansy drew the heavily bleeding end of the spermatic cord out, Draco lifted the glowing tongs out of the forge by the wooden handles, and gingerly handed them to Pansy.

“I’ll hold the string for you, position the flat blades over the end and squeeze down hard to crush the blood vessels and nerves, and hold it there till I say release.”

“Damn, Draco, is this the way you treat all those beautiful boy horses?”

“They are called stallions, baby; and no, we use emasculators and give them an injection of Diazepam to tranquilize them, so they don’t feel it.”

“Awww,” giggled Pansy with a fake show of sympathy. “And poor Harry don’t get no dia-a-whatsit?”

“Not a fucking drop,” said Draco, grinning down at Harry. “Horses are valuable, slaves are cheap these days. Besides, Harry is a big brave Gryffindor, he can take it. Can’t you, Harry. Now go ahead and use the tongs before they get cold.”

Harry felt a wave of intense heat pass over the ripped flesh of his scrotum as the tongs were positioned by Pansy over the cut end of the spermatic cord, and then he experienced a sensation as though a huge flashbulb had just exploded in his head. He heard a long drawn out high-pitched wail like a banshee’s scream of doom without realizing he was the one making the sound. This was followed almost immediately by the smell of bacon sizzling in a hot pan. Draco used his free hand to shove the hammer handle into Harry’s mouth and hold it there for Harry to bite down on as the sizzling sound of his flesh trapped between the jaws of the tongs continued.

When Draco felt that Pansy had held the tongs in place long enough to cauterized the spermatic cord ending, he took the tongs back from Pansy. Draco slipped the hammer handle from between Harry’s teeth and gave an admiring look at the depth of the tooth marks in the hard Hickory wood. Harry was left there sobbing uncontrollably, his body quivering in pain. For several minutes, Draco and Pansy stood there carefully examining Harry’s face with a look of absolute mirth on their faces. Finally, after Harry’s convulsions had quieted a bit, Draco deftly untied the ligature knot and let the seared cord slide back into the scrotum. Taking his wand, Draco touched the tip to the incision in Harry’s scrotum and muttered a healing spell while moving the wand down the length of the cut. The flesh under the wand tip knitted itself together, leaving only a faint scar.

“Cool, Draco,” shouted Pansy. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Professor Snape showed it to me, in fact he used it on me to repair the damage when Potter tried to top me at Hogwarts a few months ago. You do remember that, don’t you, Harry? Because I sure as fuck do.”

Outside the main stable door there was a crunching of gravel as a black Mercedes drove up. A uniformed chauffer stepped out and came around to car to wait by the rear door on the passenger side. “Looks like our ride is here,” said Draco. “Just in time.”

“Are we done here?” asked Pansy. “He’s got another one in there somewhere.”

“I know,” said Draco. “But even with the help of magic, Harry’s nervous system is so saturated with pain right now that he won’t feel anything else for a while. So there is no need to take the other one now, I’ll wait until tomorrow. He’ll have a chance to recuperate at bit, and in the mean time go over in his mind what’s going to happen tomorrow. Makes it more interesting when they have some free time to think about it.”

“Awww, poor Harry, I bet it’ll hurt then too,” mocked Pansy as she delicately kissed her forefinger and tapped Harry on his quivering lips. “Oh, well, let’s go have some fun, Draco; bye, bye, Harry,”

Harry then heard her high heels clicking against the concrete floor as she casually strolled out towards the waiting black Mercedes. “I’ll be with you in a minute, babe,” Draco called out after her. “I just need to have a little talk with Harry

“Don’t keep me waiting too long. Ta-ta for now, Harry, don’t wait up for us,” she called out mockingly over her shoulder.

Harry turned his attention to Draco, his tear filled green eyes locking on to Draco’s mirthful cold blue pupils. He didn’t say a word, but it was as if Draco was able to reach into his mind and find the question that hung there. “Why?”

Draco crouched down beside Harry so that they were eye to eye. “Once upon a time I offered you my hand in friendship. Did you know that back then I was actually impressed with you? Why, you ask? Because you had bested the Dark Lord. You would have found me a good friend, even my father grudgingly respected you. He wanted me to seek out your company. Instead, you humiliated me in front of everyone. That is not something we Malfoys forget, and we don’t forgive our enemies. Since that time, you, the Weasels, and that Mudblood have only made it worse for yourselves when your accounts came due. I’m just simply taking payment in full, nothing more.

“Do you want to know what’s to become of your Weasel mates in Azkaban? They’re all having daily counseling sessions with the Dementors. As for your precious little gingernut Ginny, Father has used his expertise at the Imperious curse to make her his ward, read that as bitch, Potter. Since Mum and Pansy aren’t within earshot, and it’s just us guys here …,” Draco paused to look down at Harry’s bloody crotch, “well since you have one left you still count I guess … Father has taken a fancy to her. That’s what he was on about earlier, why he decided to go tend his paperwork. See even as we speak, he’s out at Azkaban with her, up between her legs fucking her little red bushy-haired twat. He quite favors the ride too. Of course, I can see why you favored her at one point, she’s a cute little piece of arse for some casual knocking, and so much nicer to be around with her mouth closed and her legs open. Father says has a sweet little rosebud twat, nice and tight, and she’s a real moaner too when she gets excited. Sort of like Pansy. Not that you would know what I’m talking about, or ever will, now.”

Draco then gently picked up the bloody knife and held the glowing cursed blade in front of Harry’s eyes, “And as for your gingernut mate and his git brothers? Well, they are going to get a taste of this, same as you’re getting. Oh, and your imbecile friend, Longbottom, too. Father has said that the Dark Lord has decreed that the family tree of British wizardry is to have the branches of all blood traitors pruned. So out of the gene pool with the lot of you, no more Potter’s, Longbottom’s or Weasel’s allowed. Once they’ve been properly reeducated, they’ll be released to perform menial labor in the service of the Dark Lord, or his favored few, for the rest of their days. They’ll also serve as a warning to others of what happens to those who oppose the Dark Lord’s political agenda.”

Harry’s body shook in rage and frustration, he strained against the bonds holding him to the bench, but to no avail. “I’m going to kill you, Malfoy,” Harry sobbed weakly through teeth clenched against the pain that coursed through his mutilated body. “I swear I am going to kill you.”

“No you’re not, Potter. The war is over, you lost, I won, and as Father said, vis vatum … vic … verbata … oh … whatever the fuck. It means woe to the loser, and that’s you, Potter. If you think losing your nuts is the end of your woes you are quite sadly mistaken. Father is an expert in such forms of training, and I am his most eager pupil. I assure you that by the time your training is finished here you will be broken, just like the horses in this stable. You will be docile and obedient to your Master’s will.

“So I’ll tell YOU what you are going to do. You are going to be a eunuch stable boy in the service of the Malfoy family, you are going to shovel shit here in the family stables for the rest of your pitiful life. When you are not working you are going to be fastened in a cage like a fucking animal, where you’ll sleep on the ground and shit in a bucket. You’ll subsist on food scraps from my family’s table and be bloody well glad to get them. And when you finally die you’ll be fed to the fucking hogs like your Mudblood friend.

“Now, as for me, what does my immediate future hold? I have a car waiting to take Pansy and me into London. We are going dine at a fine restaurant, then we are going to make all the most exclusive clubs, where we will drink, dance and party all night. Then I’m going to bring her home, throw her into my large comfortable bed and fuck her brains out. Sometime tomorrow, when I’m damned good and ready, I’ll get up, call for my breakfast to be served to me, have a hot shower, fuck Pansy again if I want to, and then, when it pleases me to do so, I’ll come out here and take that remaining nut of yours.

“By the way, Harry, if you think what just happened to you was painful just wait and see what I do tomorrow. Pansy is not yet properly trained in the subtle techniques of the application of pain, while I have studied diligently under my Father and Aunt Bellatrix’s able tutelage. Plus, we are in a hurry tonight to go celebrate. Tomorrow, your intense discomfort shall be my sole concern, and I shall have as long as I need to accomplish it.

“So, that said, I’m off to go party. And you? You’re going stay here, shackled and bound to this bloody hard bench, to wait in terror for me to return and do things to you that you’ll find extremely unpleasant. That’s what you’re going to do, Harry.”

Still fighting the god-awful seething pain of his partial castration, Harry watched as Draco stood up, straightened his jacket, and calmly walked to where the driver patiently waited for him with the door to the Mercedes open. Draco entered and the door was shut, the driver then took his place behind the wheel and started down the driveway to leave the estate. As he made the turn to leave, Harry saw the side window come down and Pansy stick her hand out to wave goodbye to him. Then they were gone down the drive in a cloud of dust.

There was a bit of motion beside him and Harry saw Filch standing there. He stooped down and picked up something from the dirt of the riding ring. As he brushed it off, Harry saw that Filch was holding the testicle that Pansy had discarded after she cut it from him. Filch dangled it by the remaining attached cord, then looked down at Harry.

“I hear that if you slice ‘em up, salt them and cook ‘em in a bit of butter these are quite tasty,” he said with an evil toothy grin. “It’s moving on towards my supper time, I think I’ll get with cook and give this ‘un a try.”

“An the best part,” he called back over his shoulder as he walked out of the barn back towards the servants quarters, “is if I do like it, I know where I can get seconds tomorrow.” As Filch’s howls of cackling laughter receded into the distance, Harry was left alone in the growing darkness of the stable as the sun began to set.