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The Devil You Know	By : JBankai89 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2281 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, I gain nothing from this but a way to pass the time.

Chapter List
- 1-Taken
- 2-Hostage
- 3-Survival
- 4-Home
- 5-Aftermath
- 6-Suspicions
- 7-Confessions
- 8-Recovery
- 9-Verdict
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter Seven – Confessions

Draco stared at the space that Harry had occupied mere moments before, and was now devoid of him. The hands holding his upper arms loosened, and Draco paused just long enough to wipe the tears from his cheeks before he properly wrenched himself out of the hold and rounded on the Auror.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Draco demanded, uncaring if anyone else heard him yelling. “Harry's done nothing wrong! Why are you accusing him? What proof do you have?”

“We have more than enough evidence to warrant an arrest, Mr Malfoy,” Robak replied evenly, apparently unaffected by Draco's outburst. “We have motive, evidence that Potter wore the clothing you described—which we found during our canvas of the forest—and witness testimonies that all lend to the belief that Potter has been trying to manipulate you for some time.”

“That's ridiculous!” Draco sputtered angrily, “Harry, manipulate me? Are you forgetting who the Slytherin is here? You let him go, or I swear my father will hear about this.”

“Your father offered evidence against Mr Potter, Malfoy,” Robak snapped, and Draco paled. He opened his mouth to respond, but the Auror cut him off before he could start. “If you really believe that Potter is innocent, return here tomorrow at noon. We will be questioning him then—with Veritaserum. We will have permission to use it by then, and you may observe his questioning in the observation room.”

“Where will Harry be staying tonight?”

Robak's expression darkened.

“In a cell.”

“Can I see him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Go home, Mr Malfoy,” Robak said firmly, “you can see your...boyfriend tomorrow.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Draco snapped, “I want to see Harry, now.”

Robak's brow furrowed, and he glared at Draco, but Draco refused to back down. He knew Harry. Sure, he was pushy, but he wasn't capable of something as awful as this. They'd made a mistake, Draco was certain of it.

Robak continued to glare at the young man, and moved as though to speak, when he suddenly glanced behind him. Draco turned to look, and his father was standing there, a mournful, apologetic look on his face.

His lips moved, but Draco did not hear the incantation. In the same moment, he felt an overwhelming fatigue come over him, and the world faded to black.

~*~

When Draco next woke up, he was home, in his pyjamas, and tucked into bed. His head was twinging, like a very mild hangover, and he struggled to recall what had happened the day before. He rubbed his eyes and thought back, and immediately shot up in bed.

Harry had been arrested.

“No, no, no, no, no...” Draco buried his face in his hands as he groaned, repeating the word over and over, but the memories seared into his mind of Harry being led away would not fade.

It wasn't true.

It couldn't be true.

Draco leapt from bed and hurried into his robes, stopping just long enough to cast a mouth-cleaning charm. He then hurried over to his Floo connection and leapt into it, uncaring if his parents knew where he was or not. He needed to see Harry.

When he arrived at the Auror Office it was just past eleven, a full hour earlier than when Robak told Draco to be there. He didn't care, and headed straight for the office of one of the Senior Aurors, the fiend who'd taken away Harry the day before—Auror Richardson.

“I want to see Harry,” he said firmly, the moment he stepped into the tiny, cramped office. When the Auror did not respond he added, “now,” in the coldest, don't-fuck-with-me tone of voice he could manage.

“I'm afraid that that will not be possible, Mr Malfoy,” he replied evenly, “not until after he is questioned.”

“So question him now, I don't care,” Draco snapped, “he's done nothing wrong. You're arresting him on false charges! He was a victim, the same as I!”

“Actually,” a voice said from behind him, and he turned to see Robak standing there. Draco glared at him, but the older man ignored it. “We have rather a lot of evidence against Harry Potter, as I told you yesterday, and we have reason to believe that he orchestrated the whole thing with the intent to rape you. He is the same height and build as the assailant you described, and we have more than enough evidence to bring this to trial.”

“You're wrong,” Draco replied at once, his voice trembling a little from the effort it took to keep his emotions in check, “you're wrong. Harry would never do that.”

“You yourself, along with over half a dozen others spoke of Potter's sexual deviance following the war, and his pressures to you regarding your sexual conduct,” Robak replied in the same even tone of voice, “contrary to your belief, we have every reason to suspect that Potter is perfectly capable of this heinous act.”

“You're wrong, you're wrong...” Draco said, his panic beginning to mount as he raked his fingers through his hair and tried to keep himself from crying, and he began to pace. This wasn't happening—this couldn't be happening.

“Come sit down, Mr Malfoy,” said Robak, much more kindly than before, “we'll have someone get you a cup of tea, and you can wait in the observation room where you may stay to watch Mr Potter's questioning.”

At the mention of Harry's impending interrogation, Draco felt decidedly sick. He knew Harry. He knew that Harry wasn't capable of this—he was infuriatingly brave to the point of stupidity, with a heart of gold. He never did anything to hurt anyone. He was innocent. Why didn't anyone believe him?

“Come along,” Robak repeated, “there's a good lad, off we go.” With a hand hovering over Draco's right shoulder, Robak led him out of the office, down the hall, and to the observation room.

The room was dark, and Draco's footsteps were soundless, cushioned by the carpeting that the space had been lined with. A number of chairs had been lined up to face a large, rectangular window, with small, round end tables bracketing them. Had it not been for the ominous-looking wooden table in the opposite room, it would have looked rather cozy.

“Have a seat, Mr Malfoy,” Robak said, and Malfoy obediently slid into one of the proffered chairs. He sat up straight, shoulders back and head held high, like he was taught. The position felt almost impossible to maintain when he felt as though the weight of a hippogriff was perched upon his back, but he wanted to be strong, show his confidence in Harry's innocence to these imbeciles.

Robak waved his wand, and a roving tea tray of simple cucumber sandwiches and a horrible floral teapot materialized upon one of the end tables nearest to him, and a cup of strong, sweet, and milky tea was pressed into his hands.

Even prepared just how he liked it, Draco found the beverage did little to calm his jangling nerves. He was left alone, something that still made him nervous since the attack, but he was left to his own devices for barely ten minutes when the door was tapped upon, and he looked up to see his mother letting herself into the room.

Without explanation, she helped herself to a cup of tea from the tray and sat at his side. She did not speak, but her presence was still comforting.

Closer to noon Draco and Narcissa were joined by Lucius, and he sat on the opposite side of his wife, though unlike her he did not touch the tea tray.

The little family sat in silence, and not long after, the telltale click of the interrogation room's door opened, and Draco's gaze snapped up to see Harry being led into the room by Auror Richardson and Robak. His hands were still bound, his head was tipped forward, and his face was blank and expressionless.

Draco set aside his empty teacup and stood up. No one stopped him as he crossed over to the window and pressed his palm against the glass. Harry had never felt so far away.

Draco watched as Robak tapped Harry's wrists, and the rope vanished. He rubbed the joints as he sat down, and at the same moment, two items appeared upon the centre of the table. A goblet of water, and a tiny vial with dropper attached, which seemed to contain some sort of clear liquid—Veritaserum.

“Do you have clearance to use Veritaserum on me?” Harry asked dully, and Robak immediately withdrew a scroll of parchment from the inside of his robes.

“See for yourself,” he replied, a note of disgust in his voice as he pushed the scroll across to Harry. He snatched it up and read it over, then with a resigned look on his face he nodded, and pushed the parchment back to Robak. Robak stowed it back inside his robed while Richardson lifted the vial, tipped it, and allowed three drops of the potion to fall into the water.

“Bottoms up, Mr Potter,” Richardson said in a rather nasty tone as he slid the goblet across the table. Harry's expression was still carefully blank, but Draco did not fail to notice the slight tremor to his hands as he lifted the goblet to his lips and drank.

Draco held his breath, and watched as Harry drained the goblet, set it down, and almost immediately a glazed, vacant expression passed over Harry's face.

“What is your name?” Auror Robak asked.

“Harry James Potter,” Harry replied in a bland tone.

“What is your date of birth?”

“Thirty-first July.”

“And what was your Hogwarts house?”

“Gryffindor.”

Richardson and Robak exchanged a look, and they both nodded. Robak immediately began to question him.

“On the twelfth of August of this year, you and Mr Draco Malfoy went for a nature walk in the Forest of Dean, which ended in the alleged kidnapping of yourself and Mr Malfoy. Do you know the name of your kidnapper?”

“Yes.”

“Who kidnapped Draco Malfoy?”

“I did.”

Draco removed his palm from the glass.

In an instant his mother was there, keeping him from falling, and he stared at his boyfriend, his partner. Why would Harry do such a thing? Draco felt sick.

“Tell me why you did this,” Robak said, his voice heavy with disgust. To Draco, the conversation sounded strangely muffled, as though he was hearing it from underwater.

“I wanted him,” Harry replied simply, in the same vacant tone. “He was a tease. He would get me all excited for him, and then not follow through. He was just Draco Malfoy, I didn't think anyone would miss him.”

“Explain,” Robak said, his voice cold. Draco began to shake, and he sat down again. His body felt heavy, and he curled in on himself, his fingers buried themselves in his hair and covered his ears. He didn't want to hear this, but like the venom of a poisonous snake, Harry's voice creeped into his mind and sounded painfully loud.

“I was always attracted to Draco,” Harry said, “it became stronger in sixth year, but never went away, not even after the war. I knew he was grateful to me for saving his life during the war, and then for helping him and his family escape Azkaban. He was bent, so it didn't take much to talk him into going out with me, but I found out about his abstinence thing, and I was determined to talk him into letting me shag him.

“But he was stubborn. It was frustrating, I wanted him, and I knew that he wanted me, and the only reason he kept saying no was because of some ridiculous, outdated custom. My views on killing changed after I killed Voldemort, it was easier than I thought. He was just Draco Malfoy, the only reason he's managed to avoid public disdain was because of his involvement with me. No one would miss him if he just vanished.”

“You intended to kill him?”

“Yes.”

“No, no, no, no, no...” Draco whimpered, and drew in a shaking breath as the words poisoned his mind. This wasn't Harry—this couldn't be Harry.

“Tell me what happened in the forest,” Robak said; his tone of voice was even, but Draco could still hear the distinct note of disgust in it.

“I took Draco to the forest for a walk, I thought it was the place least likely for him to be found,” Harry said, and Draco shuddered, caught between the deep desire to not listen, and the complete inability to turn away.

“I led him as deep into the forest on the paths as I could. I knew the forest really well, but Draco wasn't what you'd call the outdoorsy type. It was easy to keep from arousing his suspicion.

“When Draco started getting agitated, like he wanted to go home, I pretended that I heard something off the path. I snuck off, and changed my clothes so that Draco wouldn't recognize me. I circled back around when I heard Draco turn off the path to look for me, and I snuck up on him. When I stepped on a twig, alerting him to my presence, he turned, and I knocked him out.

“I took Draco to a little clearing that I knew of, more or less in the centre of the woods, really off the beaten path, so that no one would hear him, or stumble across the body,” Harry continued, and Draco covered his ears again. Gently, his mother took his hands away. “I kept my disguise on, and I stripped his clothes, took his wand, and tied him up. I waited until he woke up, and then pinned him down. I finally could touch him without worrying about someone stopping me, and I meant to savour it.”

“You intended to rape him?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what happened next, Potter.”

“I straddled him, and I started to touch him. He was snivelling, and offering me money to make me stop, but I didn't I didn't want money. I just wanted his body. I used a knife to scare him into shutting up. When I touched his cock, he freaked out and started to struggle, so I had to stop to get him under control again. I cut him a little to make sure that he knew I wasn't mucking about. When I next tried, he panicked and used accidental magic—it threw me across the clearing, and into a tree. I got angry, and I took my knife and I planned to just kill him, but then Draco started screaming, calling for my help and I got nervous, and realized I couldn't go through with killing him, so I ran.”

“You ran,” Robak echoed, and Draco shuddered in the following silence. He looked up in time to see Harry nod. “Fine, you lost your nerve to commit your crime in full. Tell me what happened next.”

“I ran off and abandoned my disguise and buried it, then hid my wand with my and Draco's clothes. I hit myself in the head with a sharp rock to make it look like I'd been knocked out too, and snuck back to Draco, just out of sight of where he was. I pretended to be coming out of unconsciousness, and then faked getting myself out of my imaginary bindings before I went to him and untied him. I helped him to some shelter, and we stayed there for the night.”

“Fine, you feigned being a victim as well,” Robak grunted, “why did you stay out in the forest for a further five days?”

“I thought in his weakened state he might crack and let me shag him,” Harry replied in the same vacant tone. “I kept trying, I even tried to get him to bond with me, I just wanted to finally shag him so that I could leave him. He was too high maintenance for me, it was pathetic.”

“Did you still intend to kill him at that point?”

“I couldn't decide. Some days I just wanted to strangle him in his sleep, he was so frustrating—so needy. Other days, I didn't think he was worth the effort. After five days I realized that he wouldn't crack, so I gave up, and led us back to where our clothes were.”

“Mr Malfoy claimed you kept his wand from him,” Robak stated, and Harry nodded.

“I thought he'd be grateful enough to have his clothes back, and I'd planned to try one last time to shag him before I conveniently found them, but Draco found them first. I pretended to be all surprised that he found them, and when he accused me of hiding them, I turned it back on him—he's easy to manipulate, he always has been. After that, I took him home by Side-Along Apparition. I figured that'd be the best way to keep me in Lucius and Narcissa's good books, to return their son to them as soon as I could.”

Silence fell between Harry and his interrogator. Harry turned towards the window, which Draco knew was masked from Harry's view. Even so, his eyes locked with Draco's, and he smirked. Draco felt suddenly as though he might be sick, and looked away just as he heard Robak say, “take him away.”
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The Devil You Know