Draco Malfoy Is A Little!
8th September 1999
It was a sunny day with pleasant weather, perfect for flying around or going on a picnic. Harry smiled at the cheerfulness of the day. The smile remained on his face when he got ready for work. He is an apprentice as a Healer at St. Mungo’s now. After the War, seeing all the violence, his heart yearns to fix it. And he couldn’t resist being a healer. He had been offered to be an Auror soon after the war, but he wanted to heal rather than fight. He had been fighting since age 11, and he was tired of the fight. He wanted a peaceful life now. He just wished he had a little one to care for. A Little, he actually felt connected to. Harry sighed, if Hermione heard him now, she’d descend in one of her lectures, saying how Harry has to get his lazy arse out and search for a Little and how a Little wouldn’t miraculously fall into his lap. And Harry knew he hadn’t really searched hard enough to find one, despite his yearnings. But he had attempted it for two months after the war. But he didn’t want a Little to accept him because they felt he was their Hero. He didn’t want his Little to look at him with hero worship. But all the Littles in Britain did look at him that way. Hell! Many played with his figurines as superhero or other such rot.
Harry had no idea what he would be before he had got classified, unlike his best friends. Hermione had known a few months earlier that she’d be either a Sub or a baseline. As it turned out, she became a Liberal Sub and Ron happened to be a Baseline. The only baseline in his family. Ginny was a Conservative Dom and Harry himself turned out to be Caregiver. Ginny had let her feelings for him go as soon as she found out he was a caregiver. She already knew she’d not be a Little at any cost. The twins turned out to be Owners, both of them. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had been classified on the same day. He had been filled with agitation, nightmares, and visions by Voldemort; he had not had much time to think about his classification, though he had been jittery with nerves when the day had arrived. When he had been classified as a Caregiver, it had made so much sense. He had never had a good childhood, and he wanted to give the kind of childhood he had dreamed of to a Little. It had been a few days after the Sectumsempra incident. He loathed Draco Malfoy, and even after a year and a half of not seeing him, the hatred hadn't diminished. He had been thrown in Azakban 6 months ago. Until then, he and his family had been kept in their Manor for 10 months. Harry had testified for the git and Narcissa Malfoy, though Narcissa Malfoy was saved from Azakban, Malfoy wasn't. Harry shook his head, not wanting to think about the asshole.
It had been just him and Nev who had turned out to be Caregivers in his year. Caregivers and Littles were the smallest classifications. The baseline being the next smallest. The largest were Alphas and Omegas, followed by Owners and Pets, and then Masters and Slaves. Being a caregiver had made him almost asexual; though he got horny occasionally, it was never to the extent where he had to do something about it. He usually wanked and called it a day. But there were institutions where he could visit to satiate his needs. Those institutes were usually filled with Slaves, Pets, or Bratty Subs. All of them were willing and were paid a huge amount for their service, Hermione had made sure of it. Dom and Sub faced the same discrimination as males and females. They were biologically different, and there would always be differences, but the world has come so far in providing equal opportunity to every being. The wizarding world is just a step behind. But there were still bigoted assholes who scoffed at submissive, who considered Littles to be a waste and Masters to be psychopaths who should be locked. Though there weren’t many, Littles are considered the most precious classification. All of the other classifications adored them. Who couldn’t, they always are the most adorable creatures on this earth. As if God created them to bring happiness in this dreary world. Just thinking about Littles brought a smile to Harry’s face. Oh! How he wished he had a little boy or girl -to take care of. Harry let out a huge sigh, shaking his head to clear those thoughts, and went ahead with his work.
******
Harry was administering potions to a sick Little when his world went tits up. Harry worked under Healer Samuels, a Conservative Dom who acutely resembled McGonagall with her specs and looks, which made Harry squirm.
"Mommy! I don’t want it! It’s nasty." A 23-year-old Little, who was in the age space of a 6-year-old, screamed at his caregiver, edging away from Harry. Harry had to suppress his amused smile.
"Kol, Don’t you want to be as strong as Harry Potter here?" Ms. Anastasia Crumbs asked her Little, the little nodded seriously, looking at Harry in awe. Harry was used to the awe and adoration from all the little ones now. "Then you have to take the potion, Baby."
"And you will get candy if you are a good boy and take this nasty potion," Harry said, bribing the little boy. A trick that always worked, although the caregivers always gave him an exasperated, half-hearted glare, as did Ms. Crumbs at that moment. Harry gave her a sheepish smile back, shrugging. He handed the potion to the Little, who took it and took a deep exaggerated breath before downing it, wrinkling his nose at the taste. Harry rummaged through his little bag for candy when Healer Samuels came to him with another apprentice, Parvati Patil, who was a Liberal Dom.
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Patil will take your shift, you are to come with me now."
Harry gave Parvati a puzzled look, and she shrugged, implying she had no idea what was going on. Harry absentmindedly gave the candy to The Little, who squealed in delight while nattering about something to his Mommy.
Harry trailed after Healer Samuels, knowing full well that if he asked any questions, she'd snap at him. She was in one of her moods, which he and Parvati called 'The Concentration Mood', where she was so focused on a case that she’d get pissed if anyone dared to distract her from her work. They eventually reached her office, Harry entered and was startled to see the Minister of Magic waiting for them. Kingsley was sitting beside an Auror. Kingsley turned as soon as they entered the office.
"Hello, Harry, how are you?" Kingsley greeted, but he seemed distracted. Kingsley was an Owner. He had a beautiful Pet named Olivia Bones, a distant relative of Susan Bones.
"Hi, Kingsley. I’m doing good. What brings you here? You seem tense." Harry asked, sitting down beside Healer Samuel on the opposite side of the men, as she motioned for Harry to take a seat.
Kingsley sighed and took a moment before he answered. "I’m here to talk about a case. A complicated case, and to ask you, if you can possibly help us with the issue." Harry nodded and asked, "What happened?"
Kingsley looked at the Auror sitting beside him, who spoke up. "Hello, Mr. Potter, I’m Head Auror, Gawain Robards. What I’m about to speak to you is a confidential matter as of now, which hasn’t been leaked to The Prophet yet. Among the arrests made following the war, there was a person who had been registered as a Master in the Registry. He was, as the protocols ruled, imprisoned on the lowest floor of Azkaban, among other Masters. It turns out he isn’t a Master at all, and his magic has taken control of the situation, and we are in a bit of a complicated situation now." He paused, seeing Harry’s increasingly confused look, and looked at Kingsley.
"It’s okay, Robards; we can’t keep it all under wraps for long, and if we have to ask Harry’s help, we need to divulge the full information, and he can be trusted to keep it out of reach of The Prophet," Kingsley answered, looking at the Head Auror, before turning to look at Harry and speaking,
"So, the prisoner isn’t a Master, he or his guardian has somehow registered falsely, leading to the chaos. He is a Submissive who was imprisoned on the same floor as Fenrir Greyback and his cronies, Crabbe Sr., Goyle Sr., Parkinson, and other lethal Death Eaters. So you can imagine, what this person has gone through." Kingsley paused to gauge Harry’s reaction.
Harry was horrified. If a Submissive is stuck with those monsters in a prison, like Azkaban, Harry hates to think about what horrors the Sub has been through. Harry was afraid to ask what type of Sub were they talking about. Harry had a sinking feeling, fearing the worst.
"He is a Little." Healer Samuel spoke, answering Harry’s unanswered question and confirming Harry’s worst fear, Harry paled. Oh, Merlin! A Little! A Little shouldn’t even be sent to prison, let alone Azkaban and with those Monsters. Kingsley regarded her with suspicion, but she spoke again, her voice steely,"He is A. Little, Minister."
Harry knew all too well, Greyback and his cronies' sick ways to gain pleasure. He had molested two Littles when the War was waging. Two innocent Littles, whom Harry had discovered, were dead. He wasn’t sure how many other Littles he had molested. Harry fought not to gag or puke his guts out.
"Wh-what happened?" Harry asked, his voice quivering with rage and horror.
"He hasn’t been biologically proven to be a Little, but Healer Samuel says he is a Little. Assuming that he is, he most likely had never let himself be pulled into little space for 3 years, and with the horror, the Sub has been through in war along with the horrors of the prison, his magic had taken over and exploded yesterday night. The magic had blasted his cell, alerting the Aurors. Except for the werewolves, all the others near his room or who were in his cell are dead, dead under the rubble. Fortunately, the Sub’s magic had shielded him before the rubble collapsed, so he is unharmed physically by the explosion." Head Auror Robards continued, his voice having no emotion in it.
"But the Little seemed to have… I don’t know how to say this, but his body has shrunk. It is still shrinking when he is awake. The healers have put him in a magical coma so that his magic can recuperate. The medical technicalities will be explained by Healer Samuels later on. He hasn’t spoken at all since we rescued him from the rubble, he is scared and screams when someone tries to touch him. All we could coax out of him were two words. One is Mother and the other is … Potter." Kingsley spoke in a low voice.
"My name?" Harry asked, breathless from the emotions swirling inside him. Kingsley nodded at him.
"His mother is dead, Mr.Potter. To trigger him to speak more and get a lead on how to heal his mentality, you are the only choice we have now. So you need to meet the Little, to see if you can make him do something other than cower or scream." Healer Samuels spoke matter-of-factly.
Harry nodded, but he didn’t understand why they asked him as if it were a big favor he had to do. Of course, he’d do that! But something wasn’t told. "Who is he?" Harry asked, "The Little?"
"Draco Malfoy," Kingsley whispered the name. Blood rushed through Harry’s ears, and he didn’t know how to comprehend what was told to him. Draco Malfoy was a Little.