Broken Toy
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Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
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Adult ++
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Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
34
Views:
32,147
Reviews:
270
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Warnings: angst, violence, abuse, some romance, hurt/comfort, simply NC17…
Author's Notes:
This chapter was again edited by the amazing, lovely, awesome.
Hm, chap 26 left you with a cliffie (what else?, hehe), and now it’s getting near the end. Oh, yes. The next chapters will hopefully answer all open questions (plus will include a special event you might be waiting for, hehe. But if that happens, remember that nothing in this fic happens as can be expected (*smirks*). At least I hope so…
I think there will be just two more chapters, and (maybe) a short epilogue. That is what was planned. I hope the two guys will act accordingly (sometimes I wonder about having them under my control, *g*). Talking about plans – I really believed I would finish the fic this year, but now I know, realistic as I have to be, I won’t manage. Sorry. I really am. RL interferes too much…
Enjoy the next chapter.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Draco was swaying slightly, his heart beating somewhere beside his Adam’s apple. The weight he was holding threatened to glide out of his arms. Clutching the warm body even more tightly, he tore his eyes open.
He had made it. They had Apparated right in Harry’s cosy living room. Draco had chosen the destination perfectly; they had landed in the tiny gap between table and sofa. After the last days spent in Pickles’s dimly lit cellar, the bright and peaceful atmosphere of the room seemed surreal. The afternoon sun bathed the room in different shades of red; the summer day had heated up the inside as usual, and the warmth reflecting from the interior was softly caressing Draco’s skin. One of Harry’s cloaks was draped loosely over the armrest of the easy chair beside the door. Harry’s bag was lying right beside it, the clasp opened, spilling some of its contents on the floor. In the corner of the sofa, one of the cats, curled up into a tiny ball, was fast asleep. The book Draco had been reading ages ago was still lying opened, face down on the table, joined by two used glasses. Right beside them the inevitable glass vase was placed, filled with fresh sunflowers.
Nothing had changed.
The cat raised one eyelid, disturbed in her slumber. She yawned, still half asleep, then got up quickly. After stretching her muscles extensively, she sat, her keen eyes observing them attentively, waiting to be welcomed. When Draco didn’t move, she licked her left front paw matter-of-factly, stretched once more to turn round and round for what seemed to be an endless time. Accepting that she wouldn’t get any attention, she curled up at last, and was fast asleep immediately. Nothing had changed. It was as if they had just returned from a stroll around the garden.
The urge to laugh hysterically was overwhelming; Draco gave in at once. But instead of relieved laughter all he could produce were strangled sob-like sounds. He pushed his face hard into the back of Harry’s head, burying his nose in the thick shock of hair as deep as possible, trying to stifle the strange sounds he was causing. “We made it, didn’t we?” No response. “Harry?”
Harry’s head rolled backwards, eyes closed, his mouth gaping open. Nothing had changed, all right. Harry was unconscious again.
The surge of adrenalin which had helped him to get through the last hour, was subsiding fast. All of a sudden, the weight of Harry in his arms was too much; Draco couldn’t hold him any longer. With a last effort Draco laid Harry’s sagging body down on the sofa, trying to be as gentle as possible, but actually letting him slump down rather clumsily. Disgusted by the repeated disturbance, the cat hopped off the sofa and strolled in a dignified pace toward the fire place, where she settled down gracefully to lick the base of her tail with utmost intensity.
Draco stared down at Harry’s still face, paler than ever. That wouldn’t do. The strain of the last hour had definitely been too much for Harry. Draco had to get help. But where? How? By whom?
Gwenny. Of course. Gwenny would help. He had to run over and… But no, he couldn’t leave Harry alone! What to do, then? Before panic got the better of him, he called himself an absolute disgrace to Slytherin house. He had two wands to choose from. With renewed energy Draco got one out of his hip pocket at random and aimed it decidedly at his throat. “Sonorous.” How strange it still felt to manipulate a wand after all those years!
“GWENNY!”
His shout was thunderous. The cat stopped licking her hind leg and fled from the room within the flicker of an eyelid.
“GWENNY!”
Why didn’t she come? Harry needed her!
“GWENNYYYYYYYYYYYY!”
Why did it take so long? Where the hell was she? Was she deaf? Draco sneered. Whenever you needed someone urgently, no one was there to help. No one.
Harry was tossing his head around, as if in pain. Harry…
At once Draco got down on his knees, clenching his hands into fists, almost breaking the wand he was still clutching. What would Harry do now?
He was so occupied with trying to stop Harry’s hands from lashing out and groping desperately for words that could soothe his nightmare, Draco only realized that Gwenny stood right beside him when her ear-piercing yell rang out. “HARRY!” Draco jumped.
Then he sighed with relief. She was here, at last. But why was she still standing beside him as if stunned? Why didn’t she move? Didn’t she realize that Harry needed help badly? Women. Always getting hysterical when serious aid was required.
More than irritated, Draco looked up. Gwenny stared back terrified. But instead of looking directly at him or Harry, Gwenny was fixating on some point below Draco’s chest. Disappointment raged up, his stomach revolted. He had been a fool to rely on her. She was a squib after all. However, he hadn’t expected her to be that incapable. Grinding his teeth, Draco swallowed down his rising anger. He started to talk, but then thought better of it. It wouldn’t do to shout at Gwenny. With women, you had to talk softly and nicely. He hastened to cast the Quietus spell.
“Gwenny, listen. This is urgent,” he started with a patience he didn’t feel at all. When there wasn’t any reaction, he went on, trying not to lose control. “Please get help. Get Hermione, or Ron, or whoever you can reach, but make sure they bring the antidote.” Shit, he should be more explicit. “He made him take pure BJ. Harry needs the antidote. Please hurry up; he’s so weak, he ….” His voice trailed away. Was he talking Gobbledegook? Why didn’t she at least give a sign she had heard him?
“Gwenny?” Draco was desperate now. “Please. Get somebody, anybody. ” About to jump up and shake some sense into her, he suddenly understood.
Clutched in his fist, pointing directly at her was Pickles’s wand.
He inwardly called himself all kinds of names and got up cautiously, making sure his arms were outstretched. His eyes never left her tense face. “Gwenny,” he called her name imploringly. “I won’t do you any harm. I could never hurt you. Believe me. Please.”
She pursed her lips. A good sign.
“Look.” Draco spread out his arms even further. “I will now hand the wand over, and I hope you will take it. Will you?”
Suddenly looking straight at Draco, Gwenny held her hand out, nodding slowly.
Cautiously Draco placed the wand on her open palm.
“There’s something else you’ve got to take care of,” Draco’s voice was quiet, but imploring. When she nodded again, this time more resolutely, he pulled the other items slowly out of his hip pocket. Without any perceivable reaction, Gwenny took hold of what Draco pushed into her hand. “Please make sure you won’t lose them, will you?” Another nod, this time curt, and without further ado Gwenny crammed the stuff into the pocket of her skirt.
“What exactly does he need?” Good girl! Draco could have hugged her, but there wasn’t any time to lose. He explained once more, as detailed as he dared, and Gwenny rushed off straight away.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tenderly Draco stroked Harry’s fringe out of his face. He smiled. Help was on the way. Draco was sure Gwenny would inform the whole bunch in no time. Most probably she would return with half a dozen Healers and the whole Weasley clan. The last prospect wasn’t encouraging, though. Draco’s smile faded.
He touched Harry’s cheek; it was hot and sweaty. “Help is on the way,” he repeated lowly, more to reassure himself than Harry. However, his hand started to shake. Now that he knew they were safe, reaction set in. Draco stared at Harry’s strained face. He couldn’t help but admire the inexhaustible power resting somewhere behind those soft features. The tremble of his hands intensified, and he was back in the cellar room once more.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Stupefy!”
Adrenalin surges through Draco with full force as he laughs hysterically, watching the bloke falling down to the ground like a stone. He, Draco, put up a fight at last. He, Draco, acted, and without assistance, succeeded. He spits again with disgust, making sure he has gathered as much liquid as possible to get rid of the awful taste in his mouth, the taste of unwanted come and unrequited lust. He spits with satisfaction, and the whore he had become seems to dissolve into nothingness once and for all just like the tiny bubbles of his saliva bursting apart on the bloke’s face. He feels free.
The door opens; Pickles turns up, just like Draco knew he would. But, Merlin, he wasn’t expecting him back so soon! Adrenalin rushes through his veins violently, and exhilarated by his latest triumph, he doesn’t care. He has prepared himself for this situation over these last few days; he is ready. “Here’s the cane you requested…” The future, their future, will be decided now, and their life, Harry’s life, depends on him.
Draco’s wand hand jerks up when the cane clatters on the ground, and simultaneously Pickles’s wand is raised and aims at his chest.
“Stupefy!”
Aggressive, red light shoots out of each wand at the same time. Draco howls. With absolute certainness he knows he won’t be fast enough; he won’t be able to avoid Pickles’s curse, he will die, any second now he will die, oh, please Harry, no, this is the end. A wave of heat, as fast as lightening, passes by, knocks him off his feet, catches up with his curse, accelerates it. Sparkling, bright red light explodes right in Pickles’s chest. Draco immediately jerks up his wand when his body hits the ground, ready to cast another spell, but it isn’t necessary any more. Draco grins sardonically, watching Pickles’s body collapsing to the ground, leaving a dusty imprint where his massive form has hit the stone wall.
Draco spins around, searching for Harry, and Harry is standing, actually standing with both of his hands outstretched, his face an unrecognizable, contorted mask. He sways slightly, his arms sink down his sides, and Draco scrambles to his feet as fast as he can. He wants to rush over toward Harry, to catch him as he falls. The intensity of Harry’s stare holds him back, and with awe he watches Harry raising his hand again, motioning. The effort consumes all energy left in Harry, Draco feels it, and as fast as he can he executes Harry’s gestured commands.
At last he is at Harry’s side, just in time to take him into his arms when Harry’s legs are giving way, and he holds him as tight as possible. But, no… that… that can’t be true! Harry struggles; he breaks free of the embrace and the pain his effort obviously causes him makes Draco cringe. WHY? Draco wants to shout, but shuts up as he sees that Harry’s mouth is moving. Draco has to concentrate hard, and this time there is no problem interpreting what words Harry’s lips are mouthing voicelessly. “Get. Us. Home. Don’t. Leave. Me.“
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Eat.”
Draco jumped and spun around, ready to defend them. With the hasty movement he almost knocked the chunk of chocolate out of Gwenny’s hand.
“Eat.” Gwenny repeated calmly and forced the dark brown lump on him.
“I don’t want to…”
“Eat.” Gwenny interrupted him sternly. “Chocolate is supposed to have a soothing effect on you wizards. And you look as if you needed some.”
Obediently Draco took a huge bite and started to chew. Wizard… He wasn’t a wizard any more, but it sounded too good to be regarded as one to contradict her.
“How is he?” Gwenny’s gaze went anxiously over Harry, taking in Draco’s chocolate-free hand resting on Harry’s chest, drawing little circles with his thumb.
“I don’t know,” Draco mumbled, trying to swallow down the sticky mass. Gwenny had been right. The chocolate did him well. “His breathing is low, and his heart beat is almost indiscernible… I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”
“Don’t worry. He’s tough,” Gwenny said reassuringly, “And it won’t be long. Any minute now they will…”
With a crash the door flung open, and at least half a dozen wizards burst in. Before Draco had time to recognize any of them, his body was hurled off the ground and sent whirling through the air, upsetting the vase with the sunflowers. The back of his skull burst open when his head hit the wall, warm blood was instantly trickling down his neck. Two stocky men were looming over where Draco lay collapsed on the floor, his ankle twisted and sore from the fall. He defiantly stared up into the leering faces of Fred and George.
Fred reached down and, grabbing Draco by his sleeve, pulled him up to stand. Pain exploded in his stomach when Fred brutally punched him. Draco involuntarily bit his tongue as George joined his brother and slapped him harshly across his face. Too surprised at first to feel any pain, Draco was shocked when the fury that was Ginny Weasley rammed her knee up between his legs, tiny droplets of spittle spraying out of her mouth whilst hissing something unintelligible. When his brain registered at last that his testicles had been violently rammed up toward his abdomen, excruciating agony shot through his groin, and his knees simply gave way. Draco doubled over, collapsing on the floor once more, absorbing the fall with his chin. Forcing back the cries of anguish, as he was accustomed to, he clutched his balls and head and curled up into the tiniest form possible, trying in vain to avoid the boots repeatedly kicking his exposed legs, back and shoulders.
Pain, pain, PAIN, all consuming pain, blocking his brain, paralyzing his muscles, not allowing any reasonable reaction. Please stop that pain; it hurts so much, I can’t take it any more, oh, please, no pain, not ever any more.
Now! Merlin, now was the time to escape again, to let his consciousness flee to the place somewhere inside his mind where no pain could ever harm him, no humiliation could ever reach him, and nobody would ever find him.
It didn’t work.
Just like it hadn’t worked during the last days spent in Pickles’s cellar. He couldn’t find the way to his secret hideout any more, deep inside, and for good reason.
He had to be vigilant.
He raised his head slightly to catch a glimpse of the goings-on, oblivious to the kick of a female shoe breaking his nose.
Hermione and Neville stood bent over Harry, and if Draco guessed correctly they tried to wake him up. Hermione was softly shaking Harry’s shoulders; Draco could hear her anxiously calling Harry’s name. How could he have forgotten? It should have been the first thing he’d taken care of when they had returned.
“He can’t speak!” Draco croaked.
“What?” Hermione flung around, her eyes huge with worry.
Draco spat out some blood to speak more clearly. “Pickles cast the Silencio charm on him. Harry can’t speak.”
Hermione stared at him. For the second time within an hour Draco wondered if he was talking Gobbledegook. Or hadn’t she heard him? He cleared his throat to repeat what she obviously had missed. He was cut short by her yelling at the top of her voice.
“Have you gone MAD?” Hermione’s eyes were blazing. “Stop RIGHT NOW!”
Thankfully the kicking-party ended. Draco shifted a little to ease his aching body. “He can’t speak…”
Hermione wrung her hands, for a moment indecisive over how to proceed. But she made up her mind fast. Pulling her wand out, she returned to Harry. “Ron.”
“Huh?” Ron appeared in Draco’s line of vision.
“Mend his wounds. Heal him.” Her command was curt.
“WHAT? But, Hermione, he…” Ron’s face flushed with sudden anger.
“You know how to do it,” her tone didn’t allow any further objection. “You did it often enough during the war.”
Reluctantly Ron pulled out his wand. Aiming it at Draco, he mumbled something about scum under his breath.
“No arguments, Ronald Weasley. Malfoy may be a traitor, but we need to know what has happened. He won’t be helpful if beaten up senseless.” Hermione cast an accusing look toward the twins, avoiding meeting Ginny’s eyes. “Have you even thought of that?” Shaking her head with incredulousness, she directed her wand at Harry. “Finite Incantatem!”
Ignoring Ron’s clumsy healing spells, Draco sought Hermione’s attention. “He gave him a triple dose!”
“Neville already administered the antidote.” Hermione retorted absentmindedly, frowning at Ron’s half-heartedly wand swishing. “Gwenny informed us in her note.” She laid her hand upon Ron’s and gently forced his wand down.
Another thought crossed Draco’s mind. “I had my usual daily dose, too, but without any significant effect! How…”
“The antidote is supposed to eliminate the symptoms as well as to have prophylactic effects.” Hermione squinted her eyes, concentrated on Draco’s stomach and waved her wand quickly. Warmth spread through Draco’s belly, and the piercing pain was gone. “Neville will be happy that his potion did work out all right after all.”
Neville’s head jerked up, forgetting that he was checking Harry’s pulse. His round face was beaming at Draco with enthusiasm. “How did you feel? Was it…?”
“This will have to wait until later, Neville. Take care of Harry. Concentrate on the fact that he took a triple dose. Was the amount of antidote you gave Harry adequate?” Hermione regarded Draco thoughtfully. “You are talking about “him”. I presume you are referring to Lander Pickles?”
“Yes.” Draco kept a suspicious eye on Neville. With some uneasiness he watched Neville biting his nails. “Pickles had us…”
“Please start at the beginning. What exactly happened after the two of you went out into the garden?” Another flick of Hermione’s wand and the throbbing of Draco’s legs stopped. Neville pulled a tiny flask out of his hip pocket and forced Harry’s mouth open.
“Well, we…we…” Draco coughed, not able to continue. A drop of green liquid slid into Harry’s mouth. Draco swallowed nervously when Neville stared at the flask in his hand, moved his head musingly, and added two more drops.
“Does he know what he’s doing?” Draco blurted out, ready to spring up and knock the bloody flask out of Neville’s hand.
“Relax.” Hermione didn’t even turn around. “Neville’s okay. He’s Healer-in-Charge of the research ward at St. Mungo’s. I trust him.” She scrutinized Draco’s face. “I’m afraid your nose is broken. I can fix it, but it will hurt. Ready?”
“Huh?” The sudden pain took Draco by surprise, and for a moment he forgot all about the staggering news that a dunderhead like Neville could possibly have prospered to a famous healer.
“I don’t want to press you, but will you please enlighten us? Since we found Jack’s corpse in the garden and the two of you seemed to have vanished into thin air, we had good reason to suspect some sort of kidnapping, but we had different opinions about who the kidnapper was.“ Hermione cast an accusing sidelong glance toward her sulking husband. Unaffected by her spouse’s behaviour, Hermione urged on. “The whole Wizarding world has been searching for you. So?”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco tried to sum up the events of the past days as best as he could. All of the time he was too aware of hostile eyes staring down at him, seeming to question everything and anything he was describing. The longer he was talking, and the more sceptical their glances were becoming, the more he hated each and every one of them. Of its own volition, his posture became prouder the longer he narrated, and he didn’t notice that his chin was proudly stuck out as he glared up into the faces of his attackers.
About to end his tale, his Slytherin self had summed up the lot. He doubted that it would help that Hermione’s and Neville’s expressions were less aggressive than Ron’s, Ginny’s, or the twin’s. As there wasn’t much to tell furthermore, he hastened to finish. “So, after Pickles was stunned, I grabbed everything that was important and then I Apparated us here.”
Hermione gasped. “You … Apparated?”
“You stunned Pickles?” Ron shouted.
Of course they had to behave like carnival barkers. But what more could be expected from a bunch of blood-traitors and Mudbloods? Sudden anger helped Draco forget his aching body. With a quick motion he scrambled to his feet and stood face to face with the outraged lot. He was fed up with looking up at them.
Suddenly everybody was yelling at once. Draco sneered back in return.
“Call in the Magical Law Enforcement Squad!” - “No, we need Aurors; he’s got to be taken to Azkaban!” - “Yeah, he is dangerous, he is!” - “Scum! I told Harry! Why wouldn’t he listen?” – “The Kiss. That’s all he deserves.” – “That’s outrageous – a downcast, performing magic!” – “To imagine he touched Harry… actually touched him! It makes me shudder just to think…” – “We should have interfered right from the start!” –“It’s obvious. The dirty fucker has hexed him. Harry definitely wasn’t gay when he lay down with me!” - “Of course he hexed Harry.” – “He never knew what he was doing.” – “Poor darling.” – “Filthy cocksucker.” – “Wanted to turn him into a wretchful little queer like…”
“SILENCE!” Hermione’s angry scream shut them up for good.
Nothing could be heard except Neville’s low murmur, bent over Harry’s head, repeating again and again, “Please, not so loud, Harry needs rest, please, not so loud, he needs rest, please…”
Draco almost pitied Hermione. He was certain she never had witnessed verbal abuse to this extent before, at least not articulated by her glorious weasel family. And in spite of himself, he admired her guts. A quick smile rushed over his face. So that was why Harry always had been crazy about Granger. She believed in the same virtues as he did, and was exactly as foolish as Harry.
With sudden respect Draco regarded her, brown curls flying around her head, acknowledging her fury. One thing was sure. He would never think of her as a Mudblood again. He knew a proud witch when he saw one.
Draco had to help Hermione before everything went out of control. Searching for her eyes, he spoke quietly.
“I know I’m not allowed to perform magic. I violated the law. I’m ready to take the consequences. Take me into your custody, and I swear I will follow you without any resistance.”
Hermione’s eyes widened.
Instinctively, like Draco knew she would, she closed her hands over his outstretched ones. The look into his eyes was hard and intense.
Then she nodded.
“All right.”
She understood. He had laid his life into her hands, and she had taken over.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hermione’s cheeks still held a tinge of red from her furious outburst, but her features were composed, even solemn. She was her efficient self again. Still holding his hands in hers, she addressed him. “I will have to take you to the Ministry. As far as I know Judge Callidus is in a meeting right now, but we will call him out. This is a matter of great importance. I’m afraid that you will be charged with having violated the Code of Wand Use.” Somebody snorted, but neither Hermione nor Draco paid attention. “I will persuade Judge Callidus to schedule a hearing in front of the Wizengamot at the earliest possible date. Until then, you will be arrested.”
Hermione pressed his hands slightly. It helped a little, but couldn’t prevent his stomach revolting with sudden fear. When he had made his decision to get them out by the means of magic, he had been well aware of the possible consequences. He had known he would be sentenced. At the time he hadn’t cared a shit. Now that it became reality, he was scared stiff. Hermione pressed his hands again, and Draco hastened to nod his consent. He cast a last longing look toward Harry, wanting to memorize his face as best as he could. He clenched his teeth, got his hands free and turned to head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, not so fast!” Hermione held him back. “There’s still Lander Pickles to take care of.” Draco didn’t understand at first. “You said you cursed him and then Apparated back. So, with some luck, the criminal is still lying stunned in the cellar room, right? I suggest we return there immediately to take hold of him. Ron, Fred, George?”
The addressed men reacted at once to her request and moved near them, too close in Draco’s point of view.
“You will have to take us there, of course, which also means you’ll have to perform magic again. But, given circumstances…” Hermione’s voice wavered slightly, obviously not sure about the legal consequences. “There’s imminent danger,” she convinced herself. “We will take each other’s hands and…”
“No!” Draco interrupted her.
“What?” Hermione was flabbergasted. “You don’t want to see your tormentor being captured?”
“Sorry. I should have been more explicit.” Draco’s lips twitched with slight amusement. “It isn’t necessary to go back. I brought him along.”
“You…” Hermione stared at him open-mouthed.
“… did what???” Ron finished the sentenced for his wife.
“But… where is he?” Hermione’s head flung around, searching the room frantically for the body of a grown man.
“Gwenny has taken care of him.” Draco pointed at the girl, standing innocently near the fire-place, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
“But why didn’t you tell us? Gwenny! Where is he?” Hermione yelled, her calm composure gone for good again.
“I… didn’t… never…” Gwenny stammered, wringing her hands.
“Gwenny,” Draco smiled reassuringly. “Remember the objects I gave you?” Gwenny gave a slight nod. Draco’s smile deepened. “I’m sure you’ve still got them in the pocket of your skirt?” She nodded again, her face gradually losing colour. “Hand them over to Hermione, please.”
With trembling hands, Gwenny pulled out the wand of Draco’s late customer. Ron and Hermione rushed over to the confused girl and relieved her of the wooden stick. The next item Gwenny produced was Harry’s broken glasses. With blatant impatience Hermione grabbed the spectacles out of Gwenny’s hand and forced them on Ron, then, after a moment of consideration, put them warily into the pocket of her jacket. Gwenny’s hand was now shaking so badly that the silver spoon she at last was holding slipped out of her hand.
It was deadly quiet. Everybody’s eyes were staring transfixed at the silver item hitting the ground, spinning around a little, then lying still.
“Sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else.” Draco’s apologetic voice broke the silence. “Transfiguration, Lesson Two. The exercise we did after turning animals into water goblets…”
Hermione started to laugh hysterically. Ron hugged her quickly, and thankfully her fit subsided. Then Ron braced himself to pick up the spoon. “I will take it – err - him directly to the Ministry. When we transfigure him back, I want to be sure to have at least a dozen Aurors around.” With a last apprehensive look at Hermione, he rushed out of the living room.
“Okay.” Hermione cleared her throat, still trying to calm down again. “That’s settled…”
“And now it’s about time to clear up the room completely!” Ginny broke in vehemently. “Get that dirt out of my sight or I will lose control!” Eyes full of hate shot into Draco’s direction. “If I have to endure his presence any longer I can’t guarantee anything.” Draco was appalled by the spite in her voice. What had he ever done to her? They never had liked each other, that was all. There’s no hell like a woman scorned. Harry’s words came back to his mind. Of course. How could he have been so blind? She was jealous. Just jealous. In spite of his precarious situation, he had to grin, but checked his face in time.
“If it wasn’t for him, all of this wouldn’t have happened! He destroyed everything! Just look what became of Harry!” Her voice was increasing in volume. Pushing her hair back behind her ears, she continued to rave. “Hermione, I told you before, but you didn’t want to listen. I’m convinced the dirty queer hexed Harry. We were happy! Harry isn’t gay. He isn’t. We were going to be married! When you take him to the Ministry, interrogate him, make sure he confesses that he used magic on Harry since he entered this house. Torture him if he won’t confess.” She was screaming now, her face as red as her hair. “TORTURE HIM!!!”
“There, there….” Fred pulled her into his arms, patting her head.
Hermione shook her head slightly, as if awakening from a bad dream.
“We better be off now. Draco?”
“Coming.”
Draco obediently followed her out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, the pain started.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It hurt so much.
The unexpected, piercing sting in his stomach turned his muscles to jelly. He collapsed on the ground as if punched in the middle. The sudden cramp in his belly made him gag, wanting to throw up, but nothing except a tiny stream of saliva emerged his mouth.
Hermione was bent over him, shaking his shoulders. “What’s wrong? Draco! Tell me! What the hell is wrong with you?”
Despite the all-consuming agony Draco grinned. Hermione cursed? He must look a real mess… A new wave of pain exploded in his stomach.
Don’t. Leave. Me.
Harry had ordered him to stay.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It took some time and effort to explain to Hermione, but as she was one of the cleverest witches he had ever met, she soon grasped the gist of his intermittent elucidations.
“Because Harry ordered it, you have to stay by his side? You can only leave if he gives permission?”
Draco nodded, trying to suppress the whimpers and the cramps, but already too weak to fight them. Harry… Harry was amazing… Don’t leave me. Draco had been a dimwit to take Harry’s last words in the cellar as some kind of sweet endearment. How could he ever have made fun of Harry’s constant urge to protect people? Harry had known he would pass out after his incredible exertion, and he had made sure to take care of Draco even if he was unconscious.
“Listen. Draco. Can you hold on for a little while longer? I will go back, explain everything and come back with Harry in no time. Is that all right? Can you do it?” Hermione’s voice was low, the blood rushing through his ears was louder. However, he nodded.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The pain stopped as soon as the door opened again. Harry’s body was floating in midair, Neville directing his body cautiously by the Locomotor spell.
“Are you okay?” Hermione was bent over Draco again, her voice anxious.
It took some time to recover, but eventually he managed to get up. With Hermione’s help, he slowly staggered up the stairs, following Harry’s floating body.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco was glad when he was allowed to sink down in the easy chair beside the bedroom window. They had lain Harry down on the bed, and Neville was sitting beside him, checking his pulse once more. Draco felt utterly exhausted. All he wanted now was to be left alone.
“Draco.” Hermione’s voice was insistent. No chance being left alone… Draco sighed, but pulled himself together. Hermione’s actions had been remarkably just, she deserved his full attention. He cleared his throat and found he could speak with normal volume. “Hermione.”
“This is a very unusual situation, and frankly, I don’t know how to handle it.” Her truthfulness was disarming.
“I can understand that.” Draco grinned faintly. “I have to be arrested, but you can’t do it unless you either take my dead body to the Ministry or carry Harry along. I’m sure there’s no law to regulate a case like that.”
“No, there isn’t.” Hermione confirmed, and her face showed her distress plainly.
She walked up to him and stood beside his chair, looking out of the window. For a long time nobody said a word.
“What the hell did I say?” Draco suddenly blurted out.
Hermione jumped. “What?”
“What did I say in that bloody memory that made Harry freak out? For days I’ve been trying to remember, but I haven’t got a clue!” Draco felt wide awake again. He had to know.
“Err…” Hermione nagged her lower lip. “I don’t want to repeat anything, I might get something wrong… But I can run and fetch the Pensieve, so you can see for yourself.”
“There’s no need.” Harry’s voice was hoarse, but authoritative.
Draco’s heart skipped a beat. Harry!
Hermione made a sound which could only be described as a squeal, and in no time she was over at the bed, hugging Harry fiercely.
“Are you all right? Harry! How are you feeling? I’m so glad you’re awake again!”
Harry chuckled lowly. “Actually I came to some time ago… I could only hear at first, my eyes wouldn’t open… And what I heard made me wish to pass out again.” Harry chuckled again, but it didn’t sound cheerful. “However, I decided to pretend to be unconscious until we were alone. Hermione. I don’t want you to take Draco to the Ministry.”
“But, Harry! He violated the law! He was deprived of his rights and status as a wizard, and he performed magic! And all the awful things he said… You can’t possibly forget all about it!”
“Oh, yes, I can!” Now Harry was grinning happily. He squinted his eyes, searching for Draco, but obviously he couldn’t make out Draco’s expression without his glasses. “Draco?”
Draco’s heart skipped another beat. Slowly he got up and walked over toward the bed. Harry was beaming up at him. Draco couldn’t help himself, he had to smile back. He hadn’t known he had felt cold until now a most agreeable, pleasant sensation was spreading through his body, warming him up until his cheeks were flaming.
“But, Harry… I saw the memory. I heard what he said about you. How can you dismiss all those mean and offending words?
Just for a moment Draco feared Hermione believed Ginny’s arguments at last. That Draco had hexed Harry… Draco’s stomach cramped painfully.
Harry’s hand reached out for Draco’s, and Draco hastened to grab it. Harry’s eyes were shining brightly, his smile was infectious.
“Because he never said them.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
What do you think about it? Did you like it? Or hate it? Or whatever? Please leave a review and tell me! Thank you!
Author's Notes:
This chapter was again edited by the amazing, lovely, awesome
Hm, chap 26 left you with a cliffie (what else?, hehe), and now it’s getting near the end. Oh, yes. The next chapters will hopefully answer all open questions (plus will include a special event you might be waiting for, hehe. But if that happens, remember that nothing in this fic happens as can be expected (*smirks*). At least I hope so…
I think there will be just two more chapters, and (maybe) a short epilogue. That is what was planned. I hope the two guys will act accordingly (sometimes I wonder about having them under my control, *g*). Talking about plans – I really believed I would finish the fic this year, but now I know, realistic as I have to be, I won’t manage. Sorry. I really am. RL interferes too much…
Enjoy the next chapter.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Draco was swaying slightly, his heart beating somewhere beside his Adam’s apple. The weight he was holding threatened to glide out of his arms. Clutching the warm body even more tightly, he tore his eyes open.
He had made it. They had Apparated right in Harry’s cosy living room. Draco had chosen the destination perfectly; they had landed in the tiny gap between table and sofa. After the last days spent in Pickles’s dimly lit cellar, the bright and peaceful atmosphere of the room seemed surreal. The afternoon sun bathed the room in different shades of red; the summer day had heated up the inside as usual, and the warmth reflecting from the interior was softly caressing Draco’s skin. One of Harry’s cloaks was draped loosely over the armrest of the easy chair beside the door. Harry’s bag was lying right beside it, the clasp opened, spilling some of its contents on the floor. In the corner of the sofa, one of the cats, curled up into a tiny ball, was fast asleep. The book Draco had been reading ages ago was still lying opened, face down on the table, joined by two used glasses. Right beside them the inevitable glass vase was placed, filled with fresh sunflowers.
Nothing had changed.
The cat raised one eyelid, disturbed in her slumber. She yawned, still half asleep, then got up quickly. After stretching her muscles extensively, she sat, her keen eyes observing them attentively, waiting to be welcomed. When Draco didn’t move, she licked her left front paw matter-of-factly, stretched once more to turn round and round for what seemed to be an endless time. Accepting that she wouldn’t get any attention, she curled up at last, and was fast asleep immediately. Nothing had changed. It was as if they had just returned from a stroll around the garden.
The urge to laugh hysterically was overwhelming; Draco gave in at once. But instead of relieved laughter all he could produce were strangled sob-like sounds. He pushed his face hard into the back of Harry’s head, burying his nose in the thick shock of hair as deep as possible, trying to stifle the strange sounds he was causing. “We made it, didn’t we?” No response. “Harry?”
Harry’s head rolled backwards, eyes closed, his mouth gaping open. Nothing had changed, all right. Harry was unconscious again.
The surge of adrenalin which had helped him to get through the last hour, was subsiding fast. All of a sudden, the weight of Harry in his arms was too much; Draco couldn’t hold him any longer. With a last effort Draco laid Harry’s sagging body down on the sofa, trying to be as gentle as possible, but actually letting him slump down rather clumsily. Disgusted by the repeated disturbance, the cat hopped off the sofa and strolled in a dignified pace toward the fire place, where she settled down gracefully to lick the base of her tail with utmost intensity.
Draco stared down at Harry’s still face, paler than ever. That wouldn’t do. The strain of the last hour had definitely been too much for Harry. Draco had to get help. But where? How? By whom?
Gwenny. Of course. Gwenny would help. He had to run over and… But no, he couldn’t leave Harry alone! What to do, then? Before panic got the better of him, he called himself an absolute disgrace to Slytherin house. He had two wands to choose from. With renewed energy Draco got one out of his hip pocket at random and aimed it decidedly at his throat. “Sonorous.” How strange it still felt to manipulate a wand after all those years!
“GWENNY!”
His shout was thunderous. The cat stopped licking her hind leg and fled from the room within the flicker of an eyelid.
“GWENNY!”
Why didn’t she come? Harry needed her!
“GWENNYYYYYYYYYYYY!”
Why did it take so long? Where the hell was she? Was she deaf? Draco sneered. Whenever you needed someone urgently, no one was there to help. No one.
Harry was tossing his head around, as if in pain. Harry…
At once Draco got down on his knees, clenching his hands into fists, almost breaking the wand he was still clutching. What would Harry do now?
He was so occupied with trying to stop Harry’s hands from lashing out and groping desperately for words that could soothe his nightmare, Draco only realized that Gwenny stood right beside him when her ear-piercing yell rang out. “HARRY!” Draco jumped.
Then he sighed with relief. She was here, at last. But why was she still standing beside him as if stunned? Why didn’t she move? Didn’t she realize that Harry needed help badly? Women. Always getting hysterical when serious aid was required.
More than irritated, Draco looked up. Gwenny stared back terrified. But instead of looking directly at him or Harry, Gwenny was fixating on some point below Draco’s chest. Disappointment raged up, his stomach revolted. He had been a fool to rely on her. She was a squib after all. However, he hadn’t expected her to be that incapable. Grinding his teeth, Draco swallowed down his rising anger. He started to talk, but then thought better of it. It wouldn’t do to shout at Gwenny. With women, you had to talk softly and nicely. He hastened to cast the Quietus spell.
“Gwenny, listen. This is urgent,” he started with a patience he didn’t feel at all. When there wasn’t any reaction, he went on, trying not to lose control. “Please get help. Get Hermione, or Ron, or whoever you can reach, but make sure they bring the antidote.” Shit, he should be more explicit. “He made him take pure BJ. Harry needs the antidote. Please hurry up; he’s so weak, he ….” His voice trailed away. Was he talking Gobbledegook? Why didn’t she at least give a sign she had heard him?
“Gwenny?” Draco was desperate now. “Please. Get somebody, anybody. ” About to jump up and shake some sense into her, he suddenly understood.
Clutched in his fist, pointing directly at her was Pickles’s wand.
He inwardly called himself all kinds of names and got up cautiously, making sure his arms were outstretched. His eyes never left her tense face. “Gwenny,” he called her name imploringly. “I won’t do you any harm. I could never hurt you. Believe me. Please.”
She pursed her lips. A good sign.
“Look.” Draco spread out his arms even further. “I will now hand the wand over, and I hope you will take it. Will you?”
Suddenly looking straight at Draco, Gwenny held her hand out, nodding slowly.
Cautiously Draco placed the wand on her open palm.
“There’s something else you’ve got to take care of,” Draco’s voice was quiet, but imploring. When she nodded again, this time more resolutely, he pulled the other items slowly out of his hip pocket. Without any perceivable reaction, Gwenny took hold of what Draco pushed into her hand. “Please make sure you won’t lose them, will you?” Another nod, this time curt, and without further ado Gwenny crammed the stuff into the pocket of her skirt.
“What exactly does he need?” Good girl! Draco could have hugged her, but there wasn’t any time to lose. He explained once more, as detailed as he dared, and Gwenny rushed off straight away.
Tenderly Draco stroked Harry’s fringe out of his face. He smiled. Help was on the way. Draco was sure Gwenny would inform the whole bunch in no time. Most probably she would return with half a dozen Healers and the whole Weasley clan. The last prospect wasn’t encouraging, though. Draco’s smile faded.
He touched Harry’s cheek; it was hot and sweaty. “Help is on the way,” he repeated lowly, more to reassure himself than Harry. However, his hand started to shake. Now that he knew they were safe, reaction set in. Draco stared at Harry’s strained face. He couldn’t help but admire the inexhaustible power resting somewhere behind those soft features. The tremble of his hands intensified, and he was back in the cellar room once more.
“Stupefy!”
Adrenalin surges through Draco with full force as he laughs hysterically, watching the bloke falling down to the ground like a stone. He, Draco, put up a fight at last. He, Draco, acted, and without assistance, succeeded. He spits again with disgust, making sure he has gathered as much liquid as possible to get rid of the awful taste in his mouth, the taste of unwanted come and unrequited lust. He spits with satisfaction, and the whore he had become seems to dissolve into nothingness once and for all just like the tiny bubbles of his saliva bursting apart on the bloke’s face. He feels free.
The door opens; Pickles turns up, just like Draco knew he would. But, Merlin, he wasn’t expecting him back so soon! Adrenalin rushes through his veins violently, and exhilarated by his latest triumph, he doesn’t care. He has prepared himself for this situation over these last few days; he is ready. “Here’s the cane you requested…” The future, their future, will be decided now, and their life, Harry’s life, depends on him.
Draco’s wand hand jerks up when the cane clatters on the ground, and simultaneously Pickles’s wand is raised and aims at his chest.
“Stupefy!”
Aggressive, red light shoots out of each wand at the same time. Draco howls. With absolute certainness he knows he won’t be fast enough; he won’t be able to avoid Pickles’s curse, he will die, any second now he will die, oh, please Harry, no, this is the end. A wave of heat, as fast as lightening, passes by, knocks him off his feet, catches up with his curse, accelerates it. Sparkling, bright red light explodes right in Pickles’s chest. Draco immediately jerks up his wand when his body hits the ground, ready to cast another spell, but it isn’t necessary any more. Draco grins sardonically, watching Pickles’s body collapsing to the ground, leaving a dusty imprint where his massive form has hit the stone wall.
Draco spins around, searching for Harry, and Harry is standing, actually standing with both of his hands outstretched, his face an unrecognizable, contorted mask. He sways slightly, his arms sink down his sides, and Draco scrambles to his feet as fast as he can. He wants to rush over toward Harry, to catch him as he falls. The intensity of Harry’s stare holds him back, and with awe he watches Harry raising his hand again, motioning. The effort consumes all energy left in Harry, Draco feels it, and as fast as he can he executes Harry’s gestured commands.
At last he is at Harry’s side, just in time to take him into his arms when Harry’s legs are giving way, and he holds him as tight as possible. But, no… that… that can’t be true! Harry struggles; he breaks free of the embrace and the pain his effort obviously causes him makes Draco cringe. WHY? Draco wants to shout, but shuts up as he sees that Harry’s mouth is moving. Draco has to concentrate hard, and this time there is no problem interpreting what words Harry’s lips are mouthing voicelessly. “Get. Us. Home. Don’t. Leave. Me.“
“Eat.”
Draco jumped and spun around, ready to defend them. With the hasty movement he almost knocked the chunk of chocolate out of Gwenny’s hand.
“Eat.” Gwenny repeated calmly and forced the dark brown lump on him.
“I don’t want to…”
“Eat.” Gwenny interrupted him sternly. “Chocolate is supposed to have a soothing effect on you wizards. And you look as if you needed some.”
Obediently Draco took a huge bite and started to chew. Wizard… He wasn’t a wizard any more, but it sounded too good to be regarded as one to contradict her.
“How is he?” Gwenny’s gaze went anxiously over Harry, taking in Draco’s chocolate-free hand resting on Harry’s chest, drawing little circles with his thumb.
“I don’t know,” Draco mumbled, trying to swallow down the sticky mass. Gwenny had been right. The chocolate did him well. “His breathing is low, and his heart beat is almost indiscernible… I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”
“Don’t worry. He’s tough,” Gwenny said reassuringly, “And it won’t be long. Any minute now they will…”
With a crash the door flung open, and at least half a dozen wizards burst in. Before Draco had time to recognize any of them, his body was hurled off the ground and sent whirling through the air, upsetting the vase with the sunflowers. The back of his skull burst open when his head hit the wall, warm blood was instantly trickling down his neck. Two stocky men were looming over where Draco lay collapsed on the floor, his ankle twisted and sore from the fall. He defiantly stared up into the leering faces of Fred and George.
Fred reached down and, grabbing Draco by his sleeve, pulled him up to stand. Pain exploded in his stomach when Fred brutally punched him. Draco involuntarily bit his tongue as George joined his brother and slapped him harshly across his face. Too surprised at first to feel any pain, Draco was shocked when the fury that was Ginny Weasley rammed her knee up between his legs, tiny droplets of spittle spraying out of her mouth whilst hissing something unintelligible. When his brain registered at last that his testicles had been violently rammed up toward his abdomen, excruciating agony shot through his groin, and his knees simply gave way. Draco doubled over, collapsing on the floor once more, absorbing the fall with his chin. Forcing back the cries of anguish, as he was accustomed to, he clutched his balls and head and curled up into the tiniest form possible, trying in vain to avoid the boots repeatedly kicking his exposed legs, back and shoulders.
Pain, pain, PAIN, all consuming pain, blocking his brain, paralyzing his muscles, not allowing any reasonable reaction. Please stop that pain; it hurts so much, I can’t take it any more, oh, please, no pain, not ever any more.
Now! Merlin, now was the time to escape again, to let his consciousness flee to the place somewhere inside his mind where no pain could ever harm him, no humiliation could ever reach him, and nobody would ever find him.
It didn’t work.
Just like it hadn’t worked during the last days spent in Pickles’s cellar. He couldn’t find the way to his secret hideout any more, deep inside, and for good reason.
He had to be vigilant.
He raised his head slightly to catch a glimpse of the goings-on, oblivious to the kick of a female shoe breaking his nose.
Hermione and Neville stood bent over Harry, and if Draco guessed correctly they tried to wake him up. Hermione was softly shaking Harry’s shoulders; Draco could hear her anxiously calling Harry’s name. How could he have forgotten? It should have been the first thing he’d taken care of when they had returned.
“He can’t speak!” Draco croaked.
“What?” Hermione flung around, her eyes huge with worry.
Draco spat out some blood to speak more clearly. “Pickles cast the Silencio charm on him. Harry can’t speak.”
Hermione stared at him. For the second time within an hour Draco wondered if he was talking Gobbledegook. Or hadn’t she heard him? He cleared his throat to repeat what she obviously had missed. He was cut short by her yelling at the top of her voice.
“Have you gone MAD?” Hermione’s eyes were blazing. “Stop RIGHT NOW!”
Thankfully the kicking-party ended. Draco shifted a little to ease his aching body. “He can’t speak…”
Hermione wrung her hands, for a moment indecisive over how to proceed. But she made up her mind fast. Pulling her wand out, she returned to Harry. “Ron.”
“Huh?” Ron appeared in Draco’s line of vision.
“Mend his wounds. Heal him.” Her command was curt.
“WHAT? But, Hermione, he…” Ron’s face flushed with sudden anger.
“You know how to do it,” her tone didn’t allow any further objection. “You did it often enough during the war.”
Reluctantly Ron pulled out his wand. Aiming it at Draco, he mumbled something about scum under his breath.
“No arguments, Ronald Weasley. Malfoy may be a traitor, but we need to know what has happened. He won’t be helpful if beaten up senseless.” Hermione cast an accusing look toward the twins, avoiding meeting Ginny’s eyes. “Have you even thought of that?” Shaking her head with incredulousness, she directed her wand at Harry. “Finite Incantatem!”
Ignoring Ron’s clumsy healing spells, Draco sought Hermione’s attention. “He gave him a triple dose!”
“Neville already administered the antidote.” Hermione retorted absentmindedly, frowning at Ron’s half-heartedly wand swishing. “Gwenny informed us in her note.” She laid her hand upon Ron’s and gently forced his wand down.
Another thought crossed Draco’s mind. “I had my usual daily dose, too, but without any significant effect! How…”
“The antidote is supposed to eliminate the symptoms as well as to have prophylactic effects.” Hermione squinted her eyes, concentrated on Draco’s stomach and waved her wand quickly. Warmth spread through Draco’s belly, and the piercing pain was gone. “Neville will be happy that his potion did work out all right after all.”
Neville’s head jerked up, forgetting that he was checking Harry’s pulse. His round face was beaming at Draco with enthusiasm. “How did you feel? Was it…?”
“This will have to wait until later, Neville. Take care of Harry. Concentrate on the fact that he took a triple dose. Was the amount of antidote you gave Harry adequate?” Hermione regarded Draco thoughtfully. “You are talking about “him”. I presume you are referring to Lander Pickles?”
“Yes.” Draco kept a suspicious eye on Neville. With some uneasiness he watched Neville biting his nails. “Pickles had us…”
“Please start at the beginning. What exactly happened after the two of you went out into the garden?” Another flick of Hermione’s wand and the throbbing of Draco’s legs stopped. Neville pulled a tiny flask out of his hip pocket and forced Harry’s mouth open.
“Well, we…we…” Draco coughed, not able to continue. A drop of green liquid slid into Harry’s mouth. Draco swallowed nervously when Neville stared at the flask in his hand, moved his head musingly, and added two more drops.
“Does he know what he’s doing?” Draco blurted out, ready to spring up and knock the bloody flask out of Neville’s hand.
“Relax.” Hermione didn’t even turn around. “Neville’s okay. He’s Healer-in-Charge of the research ward at St. Mungo’s. I trust him.” She scrutinized Draco’s face. “I’m afraid your nose is broken. I can fix it, but it will hurt. Ready?”
“Huh?” The sudden pain took Draco by surprise, and for a moment he forgot all about the staggering news that a dunderhead like Neville could possibly have prospered to a famous healer.
“I don’t want to press you, but will you please enlighten us? Since we found Jack’s corpse in the garden and the two of you seemed to have vanished into thin air, we had good reason to suspect some sort of kidnapping, but we had different opinions about who the kidnapper was.“ Hermione cast an accusing sidelong glance toward her sulking husband. Unaffected by her spouse’s behaviour, Hermione urged on. “The whole Wizarding world has been searching for you. So?”
Draco tried to sum up the events of the past days as best as he could. All of the time he was too aware of hostile eyes staring down at him, seeming to question everything and anything he was describing. The longer he was talking, and the more sceptical their glances were becoming, the more he hated each and every one of them. Of its own volition, his posture became prouder the longer he narrated, and he didn’t notice that his chin was proudly stuck out as he glared up into the faces of his attackers.
About to end his tale, his Slytherin self had summed up the lot. He doubted that it would help that Hermione’s and Neville’s expressions were less aggressive than Ron’s, Ginny’s, or the twin’s. As there wasn’t much to tell furthermore, he hastened to finish. “So, after Pickles was stunned, I grabbed everything that was important and then I Apparated us here.”
Hermione gasped. “You … Apparated?”
“You stunned Pickles?” Ron shouted.
Of course they had to behave like carnival barkers. But what more could be expected from a bunch of blood-traitors and Mudbloods? Sudden anger helped Draco forget his aching body. With a quick motion he scrambled to his feet and stood face to face with the outraged lot. He was fed up with looking up at them.
Suddenly everybody was yelling at once. Draco sneered back in return.
“Call in the Magical Law Enforcement Squad!” - “No, we need Aurors; he’s got to be taken to Azkaban!” - “Yeah, he is dangerous, he is!” - “Scum! I told Harry! Why wouldn’t he listen?” – “The Kiss. That’s all he deserves.” – “That’s outrageous – a downcast, performing magic!” – “To imagine he touched Harry… actually touched him! It makes me shudder just to think…” – “We should have interfered right from the start!” –“It’s obvious. The dirty fucker has hexed him. Harry definitely wasn’t gay when he lay down with me!” - “Of course he hexed Harry.” – “He never knew what he was doing.” – “Poor darling.” – “Filthy cocksucker.” – “Wanted to turn him into a wretchful little queer like…”
“SILENCE!” Hermione’s angry scream shut them up for good.
Nothing could be heard except Neville’s low murmur, bent over Harry’s head, repeating again and again, “Please, not so loud, Harry needs rest, please, not so loud, he needs rest, please…”
Draco almost pitied Hermione. He was certain she never had witnessed verbal abuse to this extent before, at least not articulated by her glorious weasel family. And in spite of himself, he admired her guts. A quick smile rushed over his face. So that was why Harry always had been crazy about Granger. She believed in the same virtues as he did, and was exactly as foolish as Harry.
With sudden respect Draco regarded her, brown curls flying around her head, acknowledging her fury. One thing was sure. He would never think of her as a Mudblood again. He knew a proud witch when he saw one.
Draco had to help Hermione before everything went out of control. Searching for her eyes, he spoke quietly.
“I know I’m not allowed to perform magic. I violated the law. I’m ready to take the consequences. Take me into your custody, and I swear I will follow you without any resistance.”
Hermione’s eyes widened.
Instinctively, like Draco knew she would, she closed her hands over his outstretched ones. The look into his eyes was hard and intense.
Then she nodded.
“All right.”
She understood. He had laid his life into her hands, and she had taken over.
Hermione’s cheeks still held a tinge of red from her furious outburst, but her features were composed, even solemn. She was her efficient self again. Still holding his hands in hers, she addressed him. “I will have to take you to the Ministry. As far as I know Judge Callidus is in a meeting right now, but we will call him out. This is a matter of great importance. I’m afraid that you will be charged with having violated the Code of Wand Use.” Somebody snorted, but neither Hermione nor Draco paid attention. “I will persuade Judge Callidus to schedule a hearing in front of the Wizengamot at the earliest possible date. Until then, you will be arrested.”
Hermione pressed his hands slightly. It helped a little, but couldn’t prevent his stomach revolting with sudden fear. When he had made his decision to get them out by the means of magic, he had been well aware of the possible consequences. He had known he would be sentenced. At the time he hadn’t cared a shit. Now that it became reality, he was scared stiff. Hermione pressed his hands again, and Draco hastened to nod his consent. He cast a last longing look toward Harry, wanting to memorize his face as best as he could. He clenched his teeth, got his hands free and turned to head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, not so fast!” Hermione held him back. “There’s still Lander Pickles to take care of.” Draco didn’t understand at first. “You said you cursed him and then Apparated back. So, with some luck, the criminal is still lying stunned in the cellar room, right? I suggest we return there immediately to take hold of him. Ron, Fred, George?”
The addressed men reacted at once to her request and moved near them, too close in Draco’s point of view.
“You will have to take us there, of course, which also means you’ll have to perform magic again. But, given circumstances…” Hermione’s voice wavered slightly, obviously not sure about the legal consequences. “There’s imminent danger,” she convinced herself. “We will take each other’s hands and…”
“No!” Draco interrupted her.
“What?” Hermione was flabbergasted. “You don’t want to see your tormentor being captured?”
“Sorry. I should have been more explicit.” Draco’s lips twitched with slight amusement. “It isn’t necessary to go back. I brought him along.”
“You…” Hermione stared at him open-mouthed.
“… did what???” Ron finished the sentenced for his wife.
“But… where is he?” Hermione’s head flung around, searching the room frantically for the body of a grown man.
“Gwenny has taken care of him.” Draco pointed at the girl, standing innocently near the fire-place, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
“But why didn’t you tell us? Gwenny! Where is he?” Hermione yelled, her calm composure gone for good again.
“I… didn’t… never…” Gwenny stammered, wringing her hands.
“Gwenny,” Draco smiled reassuringly. “Remember the objects I gave you?” Gwenny gave a slight nod. Draco’s smile deepened. “I’m sure you’ve still got them in the pocket of your skirt?” She nodded again, her face gradually losing colour. “Hand them over to Hermione, please.”
With trembling hands, Gwenny pulled out the wand of Draco’s late customer. Ron and Hermione rushed over to the confused girl and relieved her of the wooden stick. The next item Gwenny produced was Harry’s broken glasses. With blatant impatience Hermione grabbed the spectacles out of Gwenny’s hand and forced them on Ron, then, after a moment of consideration, put them warily into the pocket of her jacket. Gwenny’s hand was now shaking so badly that the silver spoon she at last was holding slipped out of her hand.
It was deadly quiet. Everybody’s eyes were staring transfixed at the silver item hitting the ground, spinning around a little, then lying still.
“Sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else.” Draco’s apologetic voice broke the silence. “Transfiguration, Lesson Two. The exercise we did after turning animals into water goblets…”
Hermione started to laugh hysterically. Ron hugged her quickly, and thankfully her fit subsided. Then Ron braced himself to pick up the spoon. “I will take it – err - him directly to the Ministry. When we transfigure him back, I want to be sure to have at least a dozen Aurors around.” With a last apprehensive look at Hermione, he rushed out of the living room.
“Okay.” Hermione cleared her throat, still trying to calm down again. “That’s settled…”
“And now it’s about time to clear up the room completely!” Ginny broke in vehemently. “Get that dirt out of my sight or I will lose control!” Eyes full of hate shot into Draco’s direction. “If I have to endure his presence any longer I can’t guarantee anything.” Draco was appalled by the spite in her voice. What had he ever done to her? They never had liked each other, that was all. There’s no hell like a woman scorned. Harry’s words came back to his mind. Of course. How could he have been so blind? She was jealous. Just jealous. In spite of his precarious situation, he had to grin, but checked his face in time.
“If it wasn’t for him, all of this wouldn’t have happened! He destroyed everything! Just look what became of Harry!” Her voice was increasing in volume. Pushing her hair back behind her ears, she continued to rave. “Hermione, I told you before, but you didn’t want to listen. I’m convinced the dirty queer hexed Harry. We were happy! Harry isn’t gay. He isn’t. We were going to be married! When you take him to the Ministry, interrogate him, make sure he confesses that he used magic on Harry since he entered this house. Torture him if he won’t confess.” She was screaming now, her face as red as her hair. “TORTURE HIM!!!”
“There, there….” Fred pulled her into his arms, patting her head.
Hermione shook her head slightly, as if awakening from a bad dream.
“We better be off now. Draco?”
“Coming.”
Draco obediently followed her out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, the pain started.
It hurt so much.
The unexpected, piercing sting in his stomach turned his muscles to jelly. He collapsed on the ground as if punched in the middle. The sudden cramp in his belly made him gag, wanting to throw up, but nothing except a tiny stream of saliva emerged his mouth.
Hermione was bent over him, shaking his shoulders. “What’s wrong? Draco! Tell me! What the hell is wrong with you?”
Despite the all-consuming agony Draco grinned. Hermione cursed? He must look a real mess… A new wave of pain exploded in his stomach.
Don’t. Leave. Me.
Harry had ordered him to stay.
It took some time and effort to explain to Hermione, but as she was one of the cleverest witches he had ever met, she soon grasped the gist of his intermittent elucidations.
“Because Harry ordered it, you have to stay by his side? You can only leave if he gives permission?”
Draco nodded, trying to suppress the whimpers and the cramps, but already too weak to fight them. Harry… Harry was amazing… Don’t leave me. Draco had been a dimwit to take Harry’s last words in the cellar as some kind of sweet endearment. How could he ever have made fun of Harry’s constant urge to protect people? Harry had known he would pass out after his incredible exertion, and he had made sure to take care of Draco even if he was unconscious.
“Listen. Draco. Can you hold on for a little while longer? I will go back, explain everything and come back with Harry in no time. Is that all right? Can you do it?” Hermione’s voice was low, the blood rushing through his ears was louder. However, he nodded.
The pain stopped as soon as the door opened again. Harry’s body was floating in midair, Neville directing his body cautiously by the Locomotor spell.
“Are you okay?” Hermione was bent over Draco again, her voice anxious.
It took some time to recover, but eventually he managed to get up. With Hermione’s help, he slowly staggered up the stairs, following Harry’s floating body.
Draco was glad when he was allowed to sink down in the easy chair beside the bedroom window. They had lain Harry down on the bed, and Neville was sitting beside him, checking his pulse once more. Draco felt utterly exhausted. All he wanted now was to be left alone.
“Draco.” Hermione’s voice was insistent. No chance being left alone… Draco sighed, but pulled himself together. Hermione’s actions had been remarkably just, she deserved his full attention. He cleared his throat and found he could speak with normal volume. “Hermione.”
“This is a very unusual situation, and frankly, I don’t know how to handle it.” Her truthfulness was disarming.
“I can understand that.” Draco grinned faintly. “I have to be arrested, but you can’t do it unless you either take my dead body to the Ministry or carry Harry along. I’m sure there’s no law to regulate a case like that.”
“No, there isn’t.” Hermione confirmed, and her face showed her distress plainly.
She walked up to him and stood beside his chair, looking out of the window. For a long time nobody said a word.
“What the hell did I say?” Draco suddenly blurted out.
Hermione jumped. “What?”
“What did I say in that bloody memory that made Harry freak out? For days I’ve been trying to remember, but I haven’t got a clue!” Draco felt wide awake again. He had to know.
“Err…” Hermione nagged her lower lip. “I don’t want to repeat anything, I might get something wrong… But I can run and fetch the Pensieve, so you can see for yourself.”
“There’s no need.” Harry’s voice was hoarse, but authoritative.
Draco’s heart skipped a beat. Harry!
Hermione made a sound which could only be described as a squeal, and in no time she was over at the bed, hugging Harry fiercely.
“Are you all right? Harry! How are you feeling? I’m so glad you’re awake again!”
Harry chuckled lowly. “Actually I came to some time ago… I could only hear at first, my eyes wouldn’t open… And what I heard made me wish to pass out again.” Harry chuckled again, but it didn’t sound cheerful. “However, I decided to pretend to be unconscious until we were alone. Hermione. I don’t want you to take Draco to the Ministry.”
“But, Harry! He violated the law! He was deprived of his rights and status as a wizard, and he performed magic! And all the awful things he said… You can’t possibly forget all about it!”
“Oh, yes, I can!” Now Harry was grinning happily. He squinted his eyes, searching for Draco, but obviously he couldn’t make out Draco’s expression without his glasses. “Draco?”
Draco’s heart skipped another beat. Slowly he got up and walked over toward the bed. Harry was beaming up at him. Draco couldn’t help himself, he had to smile back. He hadn’t known he had felt cold until now a most agreeable, pleasant sensation was spreading through his body, warming him up until his cheeks were flaming.
“But, Harry… I saw the memory. I heard what he said about you. How can you dismiss all those mean and offending words?
Just for a moment Draco feared Hermione believed Ginny’s arguments at last. That Draco had hexed Harry… Draco’s stomach cramped painfully.
Harry’s hand reached out for Draco’s, and Draco hastened to grab it. Harry’s eyes were shining brightly, his smile was infectious.
“Because he never said them.”