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Power Corrupts - Absolutely	By : mangobiscuit Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3839 -:- Recommendations : 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 List
- 3
- 4
Chapter 4
Arthur frowned as he left the dungeon. Faintly disgusted at what he had done he firmly pushed it from his mind. Things happened in a war that decent people would have no stomach for in peacetime. This was just one of them, and if Malfoy was a casualty of war, then so be it. His conscience would just have to learn to live with it. The end justifies the means, he thought, and there was something strangely addictive in the flow of power he had experienced as he had just taken Malfoy and done what he liked with him.
He hated to admit it but he had been a little impressed that the Malfoy boy had not given him any information, and had instead taunted him with what might be happening to his son. Silently he swore at that, refusing to allow the mental images that conjured up to stay. Damnit he had to find Ron. He had organised for Molly to be taken to St Mungos. She just couldn�t handle the stress of Ron in

the hands of the Death Eaters. He remembered being quietly told about the night at 12 Grimmauld Place when Molly had found the boggart and had been overwhelmed by her greatest fears, unable to stop the shape shifter from showing her all her family dead.
As long as he had breath left in his body, he would make sure that never happened. Not to his family. It was unthinkable. He knew his family faced danger everyday, but after so many years of escaping relatively unharmed, he was not going to let things change now. He needed to think of something else that might get some information from the boy in the dungeon.

Frowning in thought, he walked back to his office, conjured up a pot of hot tea, poured himself one, and sat down at his desk sipping the hot liquid and gazing around his office. He liked it. It was a far cry from the days of Fudge and his stark bare room where one felt like they were entering a jail cell. Arthur�s office was cosy, littered with things from home; photos of his family and their friends, and some of his favorite muggle toys, like a rubber ducky that he chuckled over often now he knew what it was for. There was also the odd piece of clothing that seemed to accumulate there. When the children came to visit, they often left scarves and hats here and forgot to collect them on the way home. Yesterday�s collection from Ron, Hermione and Harry was still on the chair in the corner.
After several minutes thinking, staring hard at the hats and scarves, he smiled in decision and took some parchment from his drawer to write a letter to Severus, requesting a supply of a certain potion immediately. Once he had tied it to the Owl kept especially for urgent letters or memos and let it go, he sat back and poured himself another cup of tea, going over the plan in his head.

***********

As soon as Weasley had left the room, Draco sank against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms round them protectively. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Arthur Weasley had just taken him against his will. He'd just been sexually abused. He'd never even considered this happening to him before... Never in a millions years.

Sure, he'd heard of it happening to others, his father and the other Death Eaters had spoken of the 'fun' they sometimes had with their prisoners and even though Draco had never had any desire to join in, he had been extremely amused by the thought. But now.... It was almost too surreal. He had honestly never even considered this.

He had just been raped.

He sat for a long while just looking out across the room, blinking his eyes against the tears welling there, and sniffing occasionally to stop his nose from running. He wanted his clothes... he was cold and the stone was painful against his bare skin. He couldn't actually remember where his clothes had ended up, he had

been in such shock at suddenly finding himself naked that he hadn't

thought to look for them.

Bringing a hand to his face, he wiped at his eyes with the back of his wrist and looked blearily around the room, beyond the cell bars, for his robes. At first it was as if he was merely moving his head, he could hardly see past the tears and he was still in shock. His brain wouldn't let him function properly and for a while all he could do was slowly move his head from side to side, eyes fixed on

the same spot on the floor.

However, several moments later something cold and wet dripped onto his arm and as he finally snapped out of his daze, he looked down and saw that it was a tear that had finally made it's way past his lower eye lid. This seemed to wake him up and after taking a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet, feeling his back scrape against the cold, stone wall as he moved.

He allowed his gaze to wonder over the whole room. It was fairly large, and the only light came from the few flame torches mounted on the wall. It was too dark to make out many of the implements in the room, and a lot of the ones he could see, he didn't recognise. This must be some sort of muggle torture chamber, he thought. That was not a comforting thought at all, and he heaved, bending

over and holding onto one of the bars for support.

When he got out of here, Weasley would be so sorry. He'd personally kill the little Weasel, and make sure Arthur watched every second of it. As soon as his father found out about....

But....

His father didn't know, did he?

His father thought he was dead... Weasley had tricked them.

That thought hit him like the speeding Hogwarts Express. all all thought he was dead. Why would anyone come to look for a dead person? They wouldn't, there would be no point. Oh Merlin... that meant...

They weren't coming for him...

He sank to his knees at that and sobbed, face pressed up against the bars of the cell. How long would Weasley keep him here then? All he could think about now was what this might mean. Would Weasley let him die here? Did he really have it in him to do that? He had surprised him once already... there was nothing to say he wouldn't decide to let him rot.

Draco was truly trapped, with no way out that he could see. He shuddered at the memory of Weasley inside him and crawled back over to the wall, turning to face it and curling up in a ball. He was doomed.

He cried himself to sleep that night.

****************

By the time Arthur had finished his next cup of tea, the owl had returned bringing him a bottle of the required potion. This he locked in his bottom drawer with an old rusty muggle key and pocketed it. Finished for the day, he walked to the fireplace, took some floo powder and stepped into it saying clearly 'St Mungo's.'

As he stepped out at the Hospital a number of wizards clamoured around him, but he waved them away. Normally, he appreciated all the fuss, but tonight he was tired and wanted to see his wife. She was sleeping still and he sat down in a chair beside her bed, taking her hand in his.
�I will get him back for you Molly.� Arthur whispered to his sleeping wife. She looked so lost even in a sedated sleep, he thought. As if her body might have been sedated but her mind was still actively grieving for her Ron. She had been so proud of Ron becoming a prefect. Ron was her youngest son, and they held a special bond, even if Ron didn�t want to admit it, he knew it was there.
Arthur�s mind turned to his youngest son then, and he recalled being told about Ron�s quidditch experiences; learning to overcome his nerves; never giving in to his fears and working hard despite the humiliation heaped upon him by some of the students in the form of that song. Despite it all, Ron had been the one to shine in the end. And that Draco Malfoy had been the one with egg on his face in the end.
Even Ron�s ill-advised flight to the Ministry last year along with Harry and the others to rescue Sirius showed how loyal and brave he was. This shouldn�t be happening to him, Ron didn�t deserve this. He should be safe at home with his family.
�I promise Molly, I will never stop until you have your Ron back. Never.� Arthur vowed, meaning it. He had a plan now. In the morning he would put it into action. He would break Malfoy and he would get his son back.
Half an hour later saw him asleep, head resting on one arm.

The morning medi-witch woke him checking on Molly. Unrefreshed from his sleep, he stretched and stood, stiffly, sore muscles popping. He wished Molly was awake. But she wasn�t; she had not moved since last night. Saut dut determined he kissed her on the forehead and left, promising to return that night.
On his way back to his office, he stopped to chat with the odd person, displaying his Minister of Magic face and answering all questions with a grave countenance. "Yes, it was an awful thing to happen to the Ministry. Yes all the families will be looked after. No, there is no word on my son." His voice caught at that and it reminded him of his task for today, so he begged their pardon and left. No one stopped him, they all saw the grief on his face.

In his office once again, he checked his in tray for any news on Ron. Sighing heavily because there was none, he prepared a memo to his Aurors to the effect that all efforts were to be made to use whatever means they had in the gathering of information as to the whereabouts of Ron. No stone was to be left unturned, no lead thought too faint. That done he slumped back in his chair and went over the plan once more in his mind.
Faintly sick at what he was about to do, he opened the drawer and retrieved the

potion bottle, stood and picked up one of the scarves from the chair, and headed off down to the dungeon. It was early and no staff seemed to be around, so he encountered no difficulty getting there unobserved. Standing outside the door to the dungeon, he took the potion bottle from his pocket, picked a black hair from the scarf, and smirked.
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Power Corrupts - Absolutely