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This Body is My Prison	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Voldemort Views: 25130 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
A/N: Just to clarify, there will be a jumble of canon-compliant and canon-divergent things from DH jumbled in this chapter. I don't want to say too much and turn this note into a spoiler, but I'm just stating this now so that if you get to that point and are like, HEY, THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN! Well...yeah. I know.
Part VII: Onward

Cassie did not know how much time had passed, but to her it felt like it must have been at least a few weeks, though it was difficult to tell. In that time, she had not once let go of Davin. As the days passed, he grew more fidgety and restless; he whined and reached towards the low table where Cassie and Draco took their meals together, and would let out a wail when she would tug him back.

One particular evening when Davin had one more reached for the table, only to be pulled back with a soft, “Davin, no!” from Cassie, Draco frowned at her, and carefully set down his knife and fork.

“Cassie, we need to talk,” he said with an unnerving, even calm. She guessed that he had spoken in such a manner to keep her from getting upset, but his words still managed to make her stomach knot with panic, and her hold on her son tightened.

“About what?” she asked, and Draco's gaze immediately dropped to the boy in her arms.

“Cassie,” he began, “you haven't let go of your son since he was born—not once. He's safe here, you're safe here. No one is coming for you. It's all right to let him sleep in the bassinet by your bed, or play with his toys on the ground. No one will snatch him away from you.”

“Don't tell me how to raise my son,” she snapped coldly, “I won't let anything happen to him, not after—” she broke off with a frustrated hiss, and Draco's frown deepened.

“But nothing will happen to him,” Draco said patiently. Cassie's expression narrowed into a glare, but Draco was undeterred by her attitude. “You're in a safe house that's as secure as Hogwarts was, if not moreso. He's getting older, and he won't appreciate being stuck in your arms twenty-four-seven. I'm not telling you how to raise him, and I know that you're paranoid after what happened to your daughters, but please believe me when I say that both of you are safe, and it's okay to give him a little freedom.”

Cassie's gaze dropped down to Davin as Draco spoke, and she reached out to stoke his mess of untidy black hair. He blinked up at her, red eyes a pinprick of horror embedded in the chubby, sweet face of her young son. At the moment, his bottom lip was quivering dangerously, and he squirmed again in an effort to get out of her arms.

“Gang up on me, why don't you,” she muttered, and he squirmed again.

“Try it for five minutes,” Draco suggested gently, “I'll put up the Baby Barrier charm, and we can time it. Just let him explore a little.”

Draco's expression was open and hopeful, but Cassie still had her doubts. After what had happened to her first five, she was determined to let nothing happen to Davin. At Draco's suggestion, Cassie's arm tensed around her son, and he let out a small, discomfited cry.

“Come on,” Draco said gently, and he reached for her hand. Cassie regarded it for a long moment like he had a wand pointed at her, and with a slightly defeated huff, she accepted it, and he led her over to the threadbare carpet in front of the fire.

Draco knelt down and flicked his wand. Cassie watched as what looked like opaque, crystalline bricks built themselves around the trio, then they disappeared.

“The barrier will stop him from getting too far,” Draco explained, and gave her hand a gentle, encouraging tug, but she still felt reluctant to let her child go. “Come on,” he tried again with a small, humourless smile, “where's that vaunted Gryffindor courage of yours? You can do this, Cassie.”

Taking a deep breath in an effort to steady her thundering heart, Cassie dropped to her knees in front of Draco. He smiled at her, and for a moment she was struck by how different he looked from the boy she remembered from their school days together. The open, welcoming smile in place of the familiar sneer she'd grown so accustomed to at Hogwarts was so strange, and it made him look almost like a completely different person. Her hand tensed in his, and he brushed his thumb over the back of her knuckles gently.

“It's all right,” he said softly as she faced him, “just one step at a time, we're safe here—you're both safe here.”

Cassie let go of Draco's hand, and she looked down at Davin uncertainly. He was still squirming and fussing, and he was perched in her lap, both his little arms stretched out, reaching for Draco.

“Da!” he babbled, and opened and closed his little fists, while he let out a frustrated whine.

Cassie held onto him for one more moment, then with her hands badly shaking, she slowly and gently set him down on the ground.

The moment that he hit the floor, Davin let out a delighted squeal, and began kicking his little legs in the air, encased in a set of the green and white striped footie pyjamas that Draco had gotten for him. He rolled onto his belly and started wiggling around like some sort of strange serpent, apparently unable to hold his own weight with his little arms.

Cassie looked on with a weak smile while Draco chuckled with amusement, and as promised, at the end of the five minutes a gentle chime went off, and she moved as though to scoop up her son again, when to both her and Draco's surprise, Davin clambered into Draco's lap with another delighted giggle, and the blond's arms shot out to hold him in place and keep him from tumbling out of his lap.

“Da!” Davin proclaimed again, and reached up to pat at Draco's cheek.

“He's growing up so fast,” Cassie remarked with a small, sad smile, “I mean, it's only been a few weeks, after all...”

“Few weeks?” Draco asked and Cassie blinked.

“Er, yes?”

“Cassie, it's been nearly seven months.”

“Seven...seven months?” Cassie sputtered as she stared wide-eyed at Draco, “no, no, it's only been a few weeks since everything happened...”

“Look outside, Cassie,” Draco interrupted, “and tell me what you see.”

Blinking in confusion, she obediently shifted her gaze to the cottage's window, and she blinked bemusedly. Was this some sort of test? she wondered, though she hadn't the faintest idea what Draco wanted her to say.

“Trees, a fox, one gannet,” she answered, and grimaced, “I don't know.”

“Yes, but, what season do you see?”

“Summer.”

“And when was your son born?”

“Decem—oh. But...I...how?” Cassie sputtered as she whirled back to Draco, who was looking at her with a small frown.

“You went through something terribly traumatic,” Draco explained gently while he bounced the little boy in his arms, “you're mind is struggling to cope with all that you have endured, and it is doing so by refusing to acknowledge any more than it thinks it can handle. It's coming out in a form of disassociation, which is not healthy for you or your son.”

“I...” Cassie trailed off, and bowed her head forward as she dug her fingers into her hair. “what—what kind of mother just checks out like that? How am I supposed to be a good mother to Davin if I just...God, what if I can't do this? What if—”

“—Cassie,” Draco interrupted, and she jumped a little, uncertain when Draco had gotten so close. He held out Davin to her, who was now curled up in Draco's arms and beginning to nod off, but suddenly he did not strike her as her child, but more like some sort of dangerous animal. How was she supposed to parent him if she was this messed up in the head? She inched back from Draco, but he quickly reached out for her and caught her hand in his.

“You're a wonderful mother,” Draco said gently, but firmly, “and you love your son, I can see it. You had something awful happen to you that wasn't your fault, and it will take you some time to get to a place where you feel normal again.” Draco paused, and shifted his grip on Cassie's hand, threading their fingers together, then he squeezed her hand gently. “You are strong, and you are beautiful, and you are a survivor,” Draco continued softly, “nothing as menial as five years of abuse was ever enough to break you, don't let those memories stop you now.”

“But—”

“—no buts,” Draco interrupted, and leant in to brush his lips against her knuckles. Cassie shivered at the way her body seemed to come alive at the gentle touch. “You can do this, Cassie.”

“If I can do this, then why do I feel so useless?” she demanded weakly, “I somehow missed seven months. I'm cut off in this little cabin with you and my son, I have no idea what's going on in the outside world, and I can't even—I can't even—” Cassie choked on her words, and buried her face in her hands with a small, frustrated sob.

Warm arms encircled her waist, and Cassie buried her face in the crook of Draco's neck as she wept openly, and he gently stroked her hair as she cried. She could hear him speaking, but she was too overwhelmed by emotion to do any more than idly listen to his empty reassurances.

“One thing at a time, Cassie,” Draco whispered softly when she began to calm down, and she shivered when she felt his lips brush her temple, “I'm going to get you a cup of tea, and I'll tell you anything that you want to know, all right?”

Sniffling softly, she nodded, and Draco kissed her temple one last time before he stood and made his way towards their meagre kitchen. While she waited for him to return, she flicked her wand and Summoned Draco's little plush dragon, and offered it to Davin, who had been settled down on the ground next to her. He squealed with delight as he grabbed it, and shook it delightedly above his head for about five seconds before it was whipped across the room, where it hit Draco squarely in the shins, who had been returning with their tea.

“Your son is going to be a Chaser one day, with an arm like that,” Draco remarked with a chuckle as he pressed the chipped mug that he had been carrying into her hands. He flicked his wand and summoned the dragon back, and handed it to Davin again. He let out another high, delighted squeal, and threw it again.

“Assuming he isn't arrested for his Sins of the Father first,” she muttered, and Draco frowned at her.

“That's not something we'll need to worry about yet,” he said evenly, but with a note of disapproval at her attitude, “tell me what you want to know about what's going on.”

“First I want to know why you kept the fact that seven months have passed from me,” she replied coldly, and punctuated her words with a sip of the tea. She took a turn summoning the dragon back, but it stayed in their general vicinity for about twelve seconds before Davin whipped it across the room again.

“I didn't keep it from you,” Draco replied with an edge of anger to his voice, “I had no idea that you weren't aware of how long it's been. I'm not like those so-called mature adults that were in your life before; I wasn't trying to keep you in the dark, but there was only so much you could handle when everything first happened. You're strong, Cassie, but you're not invincible. I didn't want to tell you more than I thought you could deal with, so I was waiting for you to ask.”

“Like now?” Cassie asked, and Draco nodded stiffly.

“Yes, like now.”

“What's going on, then? Are Ron and Hermione doing okay? The other Weasleys? What about the other Order members? What's going on at the Ministry? Have the Death Eaters been arrested? Do Ron and Hermione know about me?” Cassie blurted it all out at once while Draco summoned back the dragon again, but this time Davin took it with a wide yawn, and hugged it close.

“They know you're alive, but aside from that, they know nothing of what the Dark Lord did to you,” Draco replied, “you were in no fit state to make any major decisions, so I haven't told them what happened yet—I didn't know if you wanted them to know or not. I've been mostly deflecting their demands to see you—I'm not sure if you feel ready to see them or not yet.” Draco reached up to rake a hand through his hair in a most uncharacteristic movement of deep stress before he continued. “They're alive, shaken, but alive. The rest of that family is fine, save for—”

“—Fred,” Cassie filled in, and Draco nodded solemnly. “What about the others?” she continued without pause, “Remus, Tonks, Hagrid, and everyone?”

“Nymphadora is dead, Lupin was in Azkaban until recently,” he answered, and Cassie felt mildly sick. “My cousin, your godson—we don't know where he is.”

“How d'you mean, you don't know where my godson is?” Cassie demanded, and Draco's frown deepened.

“Aunt Andromeda locked his Metamorphmagus abilities, changed his appearance, and left him at a muggle orphanage,” Draco explained, “with Nymphadora dead and Lupin in prison, all the half-bloods and mudbloods were being rounded up and enslaved or culled. They were afraid that they'd hurt Teddy, so they hid him away. With the Dark Lord dead, they've been trying to find him, but so far we've had no luck.”

“Why was Remus imprisoned?” Cassie asked, her gaze dropping to Davin, who yawned again, and held more tightly onto the stuffed toy. “Why wasn't he killed along with Tonks?”

“Greyback wanted him for their side,” Draco explained with a note of disgust in his voice. “Wanted him, mind you. If I understand correctly, he was quite keen on taking Lupin much in the same way that the Dark Lord took you—something about werewolf reproductive systems being a bit more complex and—erm...accommodating than that of an average human. When Lupin wouldn't break, they sent him to Azkaban in an effort to wear him down, but his Gryffindor Obstinacy kept him alive and whole—more or less.”

“The others?” she quickly prompted in an effort to distract herself from the horrible images floating through her mind. Cassie shuddered at the idea of her last parental figure going through something like that, and found herself deeply grateful for his stubbornness.

“Hagrid, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Trelawney, and the rest of the Order as well as your Dumbledore's Army were all imprisoned,” Draco replied, ticking them off with his fingers as he went. “I've no idea why the Dark Lord didn't just kill them outright, but they all survived,” Draco replied. Cassie sagged with relief at the news, while Draco reached for Davin, and brushed his fingers through the tot's thick hair. He yawned widely again, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to stay awake.

“Let me bring his bassinet out here,” Draco suggested gently when he looked back up at her, “and you can put him to bed, all right? Then we'll continue this conversation.”

Draco was up and out of the room before Cassie could protest, and returned a moment later with the bassinet hovering behind him as he went. At the sight of it, Cassie felt her stomach turn over uneasily. Draco lowered it to the ground next to her, then knelt down and brushed his fingertips across her cheek in a light caress. She leant into the touch with a soft sigh, and Draco smiled approvingly at her.

“We're both right here,” Draco said softly, “and we can move the bassinet back to your room when you go to bed, you'll be able to keep an eye on him at all times, all right?”

Cassie hesitated as she stared at the thing. Davin had not slept in the bassinet since he was born—not once. Too afraid of what might happen if she wasn't holding him, she had slept with him next to her in the bed every night, her body curled around his like a shield.

But she had put Davin down once already today, and nothing had happened, she realized with a small jolt—Draco had been right, Davin had been fine. Would letting him sleep in a bassinet really be that bad?

Draco moved as though to remove his hand, but Cassie reached up and closed her fingers over Draco's to stop the movement. His skin felt hot—incredibly, almost unbearably hot, and in contrast, she felt cold, a coldness that seemed to derive from her heart, which had not quite thawed from her five-year ordeal at the hands of her enemy and husband.

“He'll be safe?” Cassie asked softly, and Draco nodded his head at once.

“We'll both be right here,” Draco repeated, “nothing will hurt him. He's completely safe.”

Cassie released Draco's hand, and with her limbs trembling slightly, she carefully lifted up the sleeping tot and carried him to the bassinet. It was barely a ten-second trip from the ground to the little woven baby bed, adorned with a little red blanket embroidered with the image of a lion and nothing else, but to Cassie it felt like she had walked a twenty-kilometre trek through the desert with no water. She felt positively sick at the prospect of laying her son down in the thing.

Draco seemed to sense her fear, and she jumped a little in surprise when he stood at her back, wrapped his arms gently around her, and lined up the appendages with her own. From this position, he gently guided her arms, coaxing her to lay her son down. He did not push or force her, merely guided, and every time she stopped or hesitated, he, too, would freeze his movements, as though overly cautious about inadvertently forcing Cassie to do something that she really didn't want to do.

At long last Davin had been lain in the bassinet, and Draco stepped away from her to retrieve her son's dragon toy. It surprised Cassie just how much she missed the warmth of Draco's body enveloping her own like that. Flushing with embarrassment at her thoughts, Cassie watched Draco levitate the bassinet again, the small movement snapping her from her musings, and he moved it right up against the side of the sofa. He then headed over to their poor excuse for a kitchen and prepared two cups of fresh tea, then at last invited her to sit with him. There was something strangely attractive about the way Draco patted the cushion next to him as he invited her to sit, despite the fact that it was still far enough away from him that she wouldn't be overwhelmed or feel cornered by his physical presence, either.

Confusion continued to overwhelm her as she shuffled over to the proffered seat, and Draco eyed her quizzically as her cheeks flushed a faint pink.

“So,” Cassie said, as though there had been no break in their conversation, and quite keen to distract herself from her thoughts, “the Ministry? What's going on there?”

“I don't know much,” Draco replied, “bits and pieces of what your friends have been able to send my way. Shacklebolt is Minister, and many of the Death Eaters have been rounded up and imprisoned—including my parents.” Draco broke off when his voice began to quiver, and it was several long moments before he was able to speak again, though he seemed incapable of looking at Cassie as he did so. On impulse, she reached out and took one of his hands, and the larger appendage tensed over hers.

“Weasley and Granger have been trying to secure their release,” he continued, though he spoke in a tone just barely above a whisper, “since my parents spent so much time trying to help them, not the opposite. My mother will likely be released soon, but my father...it's more complicated. As a marked Death Eater, the public won't want him free, no matter what good deeds he's done in recent history. I'm wanted for questioning, and your friends have been feeding false leads to the Aurors. Since I've been helping you, they don't want me to be taken away and you left alone—Granger, at least. Weasley still seems to think I've got you hexed twelve ways from Sunday or some ridiculous thing.” Cassie chuckled a little at that, and Draco cracked a weak grin as he pressed on without pause.

“The rest of the Ministry is in shambles, from what I understand,” Draco continued, and he finally lifted his gaze to meet Cassie's. “Shacklebolt is cutting out all the bad elements, which means about two-thirds of the Ministry's workforce has been imprisoned, pending trial, and then, of course, there's the funerals.”

The funerals.

In all the chaos, Cassie had completely forgotten about that.

In truth, she didn't really want to know what had become of the corpses of those they had lost in the battle all those years ago. Had they received a proper burial, or had Voldemort just incinerated them like she'd seen him do to the bodies of muggleborns they'd 'experimented' on?

The thought of it made her shiver, and she looked away from her companion.

“There must be so many...” she mumbled, to which Draco did not respond—at least, not straightaway. His other hand moved to rest over Cassie's, trapping the smaller appendage between his two large hands. Where at one time this brand of touch would feel constrictive, now she welcomed it wholeheartedly—Draco made her feel safe in a way no one else ever had, which, given their history, was a very strange thought.

“Too many,” he replied at last, and Cassie shifted closer to him. His eyes carried a silent, haunted look, and when she moved to wrap a comforting arm around his waist, he appeared startled by the action, but a split-second later he relaxed and welcomed the touch.

Their conversation fizzled out, but neither Cassie nor Draco seemed to mind, and they sat in comfortable silence as the sun dipped on the horizon, and twilight set in around them.

~*~

Cassie went to bed that night alone for the first time since Davin's birth. Though the bassinet sat right next to her, it pressed up snugly against the side of her bed, she still felt terribly alone, and strangely vulnerable.

She tossed and turned, but sleep refused to come to her. She did not feel afraid in the strictest sense of the word, but she could not convince her brain to calm itself and turn off. Instead, it seemed to be stuck in a state of hyperaware alertness, and she was almost tempted to wake her son and lie him down next to her, but he was sleeping so sweetly with his little plush dragon that she was loath to disturb him.

A soft tapping on her bedroom door startled Cassie from her frustrated thoughts, and she turned to see Draco cracking her door open. He was very pale, dark circles ringed his eyes, and he was dressed not in a set of elegant silk pyjamas like she had assumed someone like him would wear to bed, but in nothing more than a pair of overlarge boxer-briefs that seemed to be made of black cotton. The strange angle that they sat at on his hips gave Cassie the impression that he had pulled them on in a rush, and she felt colour flood her face at the realization that that meant that Draco likely slept naked.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, his voice hoarse as though he was still waking up, “I have a number of charms set up around the perimeter of your room from when you were still recovering, and I got an alert that you were in distress...are you all right?”

“I just can't sleep,” she replied with a small shrug while she pulled a pillow fast against her chest as she spoke, unable to look directly at the blond, unnerved and deeply embarrassed by the variety of enticing images her mind was supplying for her at the sight of Draco in so little clothing. “I'm not used to sleeping alone...without my son, I mean.”

“Give me one moment,” Draco replied simply, and walked away from the door. He returned not two minutes later in a full set of pyjamas and a dressing gown. He stepped into the room, sat down on the edge of her bed, and studied her for a long moment before he spoke again.

“Would you like a sleeping draught?” he asked gently, and his mouth quirked into something close to a smile, “or...I think there's a Dark Arts book in the bookcase on spirit summoning, I could summon Binns to lecture you on the Goblin Wars.”

“I don't think that'll be necessary,” she said with a weak laugh, “I'm not that desperate—yet. Would a potion affect my...erm, milk?”

“It might,” Draco replied, his gaze dropping to her chest before his silvery gaze flicked back up to her face, his cheeks a little pink, “though most likely, it would do no more harm than making him a little drowsy when he eats.”

“I don't want to risk anything,” she said quickly, then bit her lip as a possible solution came to mind, though it filled her with equal parts security and apprehension. “Er...could—could you stay with me? I mean, just until I fall asleep?”

Draco stared, and Cassie felt her face flush scarlet at all the double entendres her words could imply.

“Are you sure that's wise?” Draco asked at last, though as he spoke he inched a little closer to her. “I mean, after everything with the Dark Lord, would sharing your bed with a man not spark bad memories?”

“Honestly? I have no idea,” Cassie replied, still unable to look directly at Draco as she spoke, “but...I trust you, at least, I trust you enough to not do anything I wouldn't want you to do, and I never trusted...him.”

“On your own head,” Draco replied with a heavy sigh, as though he was reluctant to test out such a risky theory. “Lie down, budge up a bit so that I can fit...I'm not as little as your son.”

Heart in her throat, Cassie lay down on the side of the bed closest to her son's bassinet, and Draco discarded the dressing gown before he climbed over her legs and lay down opposite her, leaving almost a full foot of space between them.

“Is this all right?” Draco asked awkwardly, a far cry from his usual composed self, and she nodded a little.

“Is it strange to feel nervous and comforted at the same time?” she asked, and he chuckled softly.

“In your case? I'd be more surprised if you were totally at ease,” Draco replied, and Cassie smiled weakly. He reached out and took one of her hands, and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Sleep, I promise to behave myself.”

Cassie shifted closer, and fell asleep enveloped in Draco's warmth, and the presence of the young Slytherin, her former rival and current protector, chased away her demons, and for the first time in months, she felt a sense of peace.
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This Body is My Prison