Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Note - Possible trigger warnings for Stockholm Syndrome.

Word Count Without AN - 364

To Be A Pet

Long, thin fingers threaded comfortingly through his hair. He unconsciously leant into the touch, his eyes drooping as he relaxed. The pillow beneath his knees was soft and warm, and the dulcet tone of his master was helping him drift away into sleep.

"No, my pet, don't fall asleep."

Harry blinked, glancing up at his Master. He didn't like the reprimanding tone, he didn't like it when he displeased his Master.

"Sorry," he whimpered.

The fingers soothed him instantly, pressing his face into a warm, clothed thigh.

"We're almost finished, my pet."

Snuggling his face against the leg, Harry felt his limbs relax once more. He wasn't in trouble. He let himself drift again, though he made sure that he didn't drift too far this time, keeping part of himself alert to the room around him.

The scraping of chairs on floor alerted him that the meeting was over, and he forced himself back into the moment.

"You did so well, my pet," his Master murmured. "Come, you deserve a reward."

Harry looked up at his Master, the red eyes full of affection and warm desire, as the fingers that had been coursing through his hair found their way to the leather collar around his neck.

Harry stood as his Master bid, followed a step behind to the bedroom they shared. As soon as he was through the doorway, Harry moved alone to the bed, positioning himself as he'd been taught, face down, on his knees, his arms still in front of him.

"You're so good, my pet, so well behaved."

Pride filled Harry at the praise, and he felt his cheeks heat up as he blushed. His Master took such good care of him.

He vaguely remembered days of fighting, days of bright lights and terror filled yells. He remembered days of being locked away in the dark, of not being fed. He remembered red hair of a boy he'd once loved, turned away from him.

His Master took all that away.

Now, Harry felt nothing but simple contentment, his mind on nothing at all but pleasing his Master.

This was his life, and it was what he deserved.

To be a pet.