Pairing: Harry/Draco Warning: none yet... except ummm i'm still new to all this so... don't expect the world
Warnings: Slash, Language, Non-con-ish, OoC
Summary: A misfired spell. In the enemy's clutches. Nothing is as it seems
Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's, i'm just borrowing it to twist and maim to my own devious purposes. No worries, she'll get them back in the end.
Author's Notes: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAArgh! I'm expecting a serious volume of reviews for this one as we all know what kind of headache it put me through.
Still looking for a beta *hint-hint*
Also, I know the Voldemort scene seems a bit =S... dubious, but I just found myself unable to reach him and thus I tried to skim it as opposed to try and fail dramatically landing hard on my arse on Oxford Street and consequently being trampled.
Did you notice it? The 'thing'? It's definitely in there, so if you see it. Shout!
"Draco!" he gasped suddenly his attention brought back to the boy who he once thought could be the best Slytherin to be put through Hogwarts. All of a sudden there was a flurry of movement as Snape did exactly what Draco had done earlier and cast every single healing spell he could think of on the still body. Where was Pomfrey when you needed her? Maybe he could-
The cuts were healed and sealed as quickly as his wand could manage before he conjured some muggle bandaging.
He would have proceeded to wrap the boys torso in the white gauze as tightly as possible, but something stopped him. Draco was bruising... not on his front but on his back, the back of his hands also. Strange that. It wasn't unheard of for weak purebloods to bruise easily, but Draco wasn't weak, it was possible that the bruising could be caused by the blood loss that he was obviously suffering from; but why only on his back? Mystery after mystery.
What had the house elves been feeding him? he couldn't help but wonder after he had lessened some of the bruising and begun to wrap him up like a mummy. Draco was looking skinnier than Potter after the summer holidays had passed. A fluttering of guilt rose in his throat, he hadn't even noticed the change. The emotion was quickly replaced by pure rage, this imbecile was the reason he was wanted for the murder of Albus Dumbledore and in the perfect position to do NOTHING!!
He clenched his hands into angry fists, willing himself to not the hit the idiot child. The boy coughed weakly again and Snape was moving again, unknowingly ignoring an unconscious Harry Potter leaning against Draco's chin-neck junction, and managing to make him down a few potions and extract a vial of blood for testing within a heroic three minutes and eighteen seconds.
"Oody!" he snapped conjuring up a chair between the two beds so he could keep an eye on both.
"How can Oody help, sir?" the elf asked fidgeting nervously and looking at Draco's fair hair as if having seen it for the very first time. Snape recognised the look, after all he himself had worn it the first time he'd seen Lucius Malfoy back at Hogwarts many a year ago. A look of incredulous, 'how-can-anyone-have-hair-like-that-and-n
"Sir?" He found himself jerked back into the present by a loud squeaky voice.
"Just some coffee," he said abruptly turning back to the boy and checking his breathing and pulse.
Harry woke up to the sound of a very familiar annoyed hiss and looked up to see Snape grimacing in pain as he clutched his left fore-arm. A sight he no longer seemed to think of as absurd. Pulling the cloak tighter around himself, he scrambled to the edge of the bed and with a 3 second countdown jumped straight into Snape's pocket.
Almost a split second after he reached the inside of the pocket, Snape's hand followed. He must have noticed the extra weight because his hand moved around the empty pocket as if searching for something. Harry backed away from the hand, praying desperately that he wouldn't be found and infinitely glad when Snape decided he didn't have time to search for whatever had fallen in. Apparating straight into his place in the currently empty circle he immediately turned to the Dark Lord, all his mental barriers as sealed and airtight as possible.
"My lord, Malfoy Junior won't be here."
Voldemort made a slight inclination of the head that could be perceived as nod before he turned to the now full circle except the huge conspicuous gape where Malfoy's tiny form usually fit in and addressed his followers. Harry leaned back against the pocket wall in surprise at Voldemort's lack of reaction, the tiredness was beginning to burn and he wondered how long he might last before he fell asleep in Snape's pocket. He completely missed Voldemort's instructions as he scouted through his pocket for the parchment he knew should be there from the last time they had communicated. By the time he'd pulled it out of his pocket, he felt the now familiar lurch of apparition as they reached the unknown destination. Hastily pulling off a sock and transfiguring it into a quill, he sat down listening hard for any clue of their whereabouts wishing he had his Firebolt once again.
'DE Attack in' he stopped, listening for other Death Eaters, the first voice he picked up being Bellatrix Lestrange's that he could now recognise as if it were his own.
"Severus, this way!"
"I know the direction of The Three Broomsticks thank you, I unlike you haven't been in Azkaban for the past decade or so." he answered breezily.
'Hogsmeade.' he scribbled quickly before the sound of a resounding slap filled his ears.
"I," came Bellatrix's guttural voice, "don't like you." Harry's eyes widened. Had she just slapped Professor Snape? Oh he would have paid to see that, and he almost, almost, cheered for the mad Black sister.
This time the Death Eaters barely had time to open a few doors before the Order arrived and less than five minutes later, the Ministry also.
"What's going on?" Goyle Senior shouted before he was taken down by a Stupefy and taken by the aurors. Immediately the remaining Death Eaters apparated out back to their circle where they had been less than twenty minutes earlier. Voldemort was furious and Harry was privileged to the sound of more than five Death Eaters get crucio-ed before Voldemort decided it was enough for the day.
"Two failed missions? How can Pureblood supremacy rule if you are failing now? Find the leak and bring them to me. Whoever can bring me the traitor shall be rewarded beyond all others" he said coldly and Harry could hear the sound of some of the other Death Eaters shifting.
Harry felt himself fall against the opposite side of the pocket as Snape moved sharply and quickly away from the Dark Lord towards one of the Death Eaters.
"McNair," Snape said silkily catching up with the other man before he left, "What would Lucius say?"
He gave a satisfactory smirk as the blood drained from the other man's face like water in a sieve, the man's eyes flitted nervously to where Voldemort was standing and then back to Snape.
"Let's go somewhere else," McNair almost whispered in fear to Voldemort's second in command.
"Malfoy Manor?" Snape asked easily.
"No!" McNair almost groaned out much to Snape's sadistic pleasure.
"Back end of Knockturn Alley."
The two men apparated away within seconds of each other, appearing outside a seedy rundown store at the edge of Knockturn Alley, furthest away from Diagon Alley.
"Tell. Me." Snape said in a horrible intimidating voice that made Harry shiver slightly
"It wasn't my fault." McNair pleaded helplessly.
"Oh really? I'm sure Lucius will be sure to spare you when he finds out it wasn't your fault his son is dying."
"Dying?" McNair squeaked and Harry wished he could see the huge man being terrified of Snape. Well Lucius Malfoy actually, but via Snape.
"That is correct, Mr. McNair, now why don't you tell me what you did?" Snape asked using his teacher mode of speech that appeared to work very effectively.
"It was- It was a whip."
"I know that much, you halfwit."
McNair winced, "It was Shifter's whip, new from Spain, the one that doesn't heal."
"Doesn't heal? DOESN'T HEAL?" Snape almost screamed in frustration, they were all mad these lunatics he had to work with, "Have you no foresight. Did you not realise that Lucius will get out? Did you forget that Draco Malfoy is Bellatrix Lestrange's nephew?"
McNair whimpered pathetically and Harry felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Malfoy would never heal?
"Why did you do it?"
"The Dark Lord-"
Snape growled and McNair stopped with a sharp gasp before continuing, "he said-he said we could."
"He said, 'permanently disfigure the son of the wizard most prolific in Dark Art's from our group' did he?"
"It does heal I think." McNair said hopefully.
Snape turned on him, "Then how, may I ask can it be 'the one that doesn't heal'?"
"It... it heals over time if... if the victim is not threatened. It's... it's made worse by mental anguish and... And... " the man trailed off and Snape leaned over him menacingly, "and?"
"imbalance." McNair whispered finally. Snape apparated away deciding to keep this information to himself, not knowing that Harry Potter had overheard everything.
He arrived at the Manor parlour and made his way back to Draco's room via the Potions lab they had in the dungeons where he picked up a few potions he knew he'd need. When he arrived at the room, the boy was still fast asleep with his snake curled up around him like a protective barrier.
He carefully reached around the adder to wake the boy up only to find a hissing and spitting snake inches from his face, fangs bared and ready to attack. Keeping eye-contact with the snake he froze hoping she would back away.
"Isillia!" Harry whispered from the pocket, "he's here to help, let him wake Malfoy up and help me out."
Isillia slowly backed away from the Potions Master and Harry floated out of the pocket and landed on the bedside table, watching as Snape eased a few liquids down the throat of a weak and limp Draco Malfoy who was not entirely awake or alive if his pulse was anything to go by. Gently settling Draco's head back down on his pillow, as if he were Lucius tending for his only heir he gave an almost wistful sigh. Lucius was going to go berserk when he found out and he hoped desperately that he could be there to watch it, Lucius may even just go and defect when he found out about Draco's Mark. He'd often caught him staring wistfully at Draco's pale forearm, scar free and flawless perfection every time it was exposed.
He turned towards Narcissa, checking her vitals and satisfied with his charges he left the gloomy Manor for his own home hoping he would get enough sleep before his meeting with Lupin the following day. Both Malfoy's would be as right as rain in the morning unless something happened in the night to 'destroy the boy's mental balance'.
Harry dropped of the bedside table onto the bed and crawled up to Malfoy's pillow, curling himself under his cloak by Draco's ear before falling back to sleep.
"Potter?" Draco whispered as soon as he was awake, wondering whether he had dreamed the whole thing up when he had fallen over and hit his head, passing out from the bloodloss which was obviously what had happened here... except that he was wrapped up... which meant the whip marks and cuts had been discovered.
Snape stopped at the soft hiss from the bed and stepped back silently into the shadows wanting to see what was going on. Potter was missing and if Malfoy knew where he was, he'd be damned if he let the opportunity get away from him.
Unbeknownst to him though, Draco had caught the subtle movement and immediately changed tactics, instead playing out a dream that had haunted him long enough for him to re-create it without sleep.
"Cru-" he moaned tossing his head slightly, then quick as a flash he jerked upright in the bed with his arms thrown up over his face as if to protect it from an invisible enemy. He gulped loudly and panted heavily looking around his room as if though reacquainting himself with his surroundings. Slowly he let his hands drop to his face, slowly running his fingers over the smooth skin as if checking it was unmarked, then down his neck, systematically checking for scarring. Allowing his breathing to slow, he checked the room again, not allowing his eyes to linger on the corner where he knew Snape was hidden, then flopped back on his bed.
"Fucking Potter!" he growled loudly closing his eyes and clenching his fists, as he remembered the moments again, the split second of fear, relief and failure that had caused him to pass out on the bathroom floor.
He stilled at the sound of ragged breathing by his ear... something was breathing in his ear. No, not breathing, sobbing.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harry sobbed over and over as he curled up into a ball on the pillow. The last thing he'd expected was for that to happen, there was he thinking Malfoy was awake when all he was doing was dreaming about that dreaded Sectumsempra. He felt guilt wash over him again as the reality sunk in, Malfoy had nightmares about him. He was as good as Voldemort in that sense.
Snape came in promptly silencing Harry's whispered sobs, but the heavy gasping still echoed in Draco's ears and he couldn't help the small satisfaction that it was bothering Potter as much as it bothered him.
"Draco," Snape said taking the chair at his bedside.
Draco decided not to answer instead turning to look at his Potions Master with tired grey eyes.
"Tell me about the bruising."
That had been unexpected and Draco continued to stare at him, not letting the surprise register on his face, he cleared his throat slightly and Snape handed him a glass of water that he gratefully accepted as he sat up.
"What bruising?" he asked innocently, but Snape stared at him with a look that said that he knew both that Draco was lying and that he knew Draco knew where the bruising had come from. Unable to bring himself to say anything, Draco stared at him mutely.
"Are you in danger?"
Draco cracked a half smile, "When am I not?"
"Don't give me that," Snape hissed.
"Someone knows," Draco said finally turning away from Snape and lying back down much to Snape's fury. Why the whiny little brat had just dismissed him? Just like his father he was turning out. And he could hardly manhandle the brat to make him speak, with his stupid injuries. He left the room as quietly as he came leaving Draco to his own thoughts and eventual sleep, not once realising he had been moments from death less than a day ago.
"What were you dreaming about?"
"You kept screaming 'POTTER' and then you said 'Why are you so small.'"
There was absolute silence as Narcissa stared solemnly into her sons wide and surprised eyes and he in turn gazed back, mouth slightly open and completely still before his lips slowly spread into a mischievous little smile, reminiscent of the happy go lucky child who had lit up the halls only a decade ago. He bit down on his lower lip in an attempt to smother the grin growing on his face before he suddenly through his head back and collapsed on to the bed in loud happy peals of laughter.
"Mother!" he managed to gasp out in a rather shocked voice as the laughter subsided and he was left with an embarrassingly non-Malfoy grin on his face. The smile was promptly wrenched off his face as he shifted on the bed and he let out a soft moan of pain that made Narcissa look over her son worryingly and Snape stiffen where he was lurking behind the door.
"I'm OK," Draco nodded after a few seconds as he settled back into a comfortable position and closed his eyes taking deep breaths through his mouth as he tilted his face upwards to ease the flow of air into his lungs. The two Malfoy's stayed in silence each in their own contemplation of the other.
"You look like an angel when you sleep," Narcissa whispered suddenly, pulling the chair closer to the bed side and lightly fingering a few strands of Draco's hair, "fallen."
Draco opened his eyes again and turned to look at his now teary-eyed mother blankly. "I still don't know why you have black sheets, do you remember? When you were five and insisted that we change the green to black? The only person I know with black sheets."
She trailed off slightly, her eyes slightly unfocused and Draco found himself looking at her in confusion. What was she talking about? Was she going mad? The Black's did have a history of madness after all.
"I want to see your legs."
"Your legs Draco, let me see them."
"I'm your mother Draco, and I want to see your legs!"
"I don't want to- How did you do that?"
"Teach me!!! Teach me teach me! What was that spell? Mother! What was that spell?"
"No, no, you're much too young for these types of spells."
"Mother! I've been legal for OVER a year!"
"Yes well, I'm your mother and I really don't want to know."
There were a few moments of sulky silence before Draco decided to talk, "can I have my trousers back then?"
"Oh! Of course!"
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
"... What were you looking for?"
"Doesn't matter honey."
"Mother. You just climbed onto my bed and stripped me and you think 'doesn't matter honey' is going to cut it?"
Narcissa gave him a long level look that showed not an inch of swaying and then told him to go to sleep as she picked up a random book from the bedside table. She sat pretending to read for a long time as she kept an eye on her son, he was acting very strange. Much as she loved to see him laugh so freely, it was too foreign for her to accept, hopefully it was just a side-effect to the potions.
"Isillia darling! It's raining!" Draco exclaimed looking out of the window at the sound of soft patters of rain droplets against the building. He'd been lying on the bed, looking blankly at the wall for the past few hours worryingly unable to focus on any one thought or topic.
'Yes Master, it is.'
Harry watched as Malfoy looked out of the window wistfully with luminous grey eyes before he suddenly picked Isillia up and left the room still in his pyjamas. Grabbing his broom, he flew after them not wanting to be left behind in the gloomy room that smelled of healing potions and blood despite the House elves greatest efforts. He flew close behind, pushing his limits to keep up as Malfoy seemed to glide through the dark corridors at an inhuman speed, before taking a staircase down that Harry had never seen before. The boy stopped before the huge clear windows that covered one wall of the large airy room that seemed devoid of furniture.
"Where are we Isillia?"
"Potter?!?" Draco suddenly asked turning around away from the windows where he was looking out on to a huge meadow sized lawn that was currently being drizzled on by ominous black clouds.
"Yes?" he replied pulling off his invisibility cloak to show himself hovering in the air beside Malfoy, though facing the opposite direction.
"Don't drown," Malfoy whispered meanly with a satisfied smirk before he whispered a spell that threw the windows that actually turned out to be doors open simultaneously with the first rumblings of thunder allowing the empty room to be ravished by the elements.