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Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: Happy belated Halloween and sorry for the very late chapter. The chapter was giving me a lot of trouble. I really wanted the atmosphere to be right. Please let me know what you think of it!
Darkness Closing In
Minerva couldn’t sleep. The castle was dark and cold, winter fast approaching. Moonlight illuminated her tired face in intermittent bursts as she passed windows filled with crystal clear panes of glass. Her slippers shushed along the stone floors. A single source of warmth was caught in her hand, a small flickering candle held chest high.
Her slow, meandering journey brought her to a stone guardian. Shadows thrown by her candle made the avian face appear harsh and impassive. “Cockroach clusters,” she whispered, half-certain she was speaking nonsense and the gargoyle would refuse to move.
Instead, the eagle head seemed to nod as it took a step back, revealing the stone steps it guarded. Minerva climbed. There was nothin else to be done, really. She climbed seeking answers and reassurance, seeking peace so that she could sleep.
Albus stepped out onto the balcony that led to his personal quarters wearing a plain white dressing robe. His hair was loose as it fell down his back, his beard braided so as not to tangle in his sleep. Without a word of greeting or question, he stepped down to meet her in his office. His hands were warm as they gently took hers. She looked down at them. They were knotted and slender, but they still possessed a steady strength. This man had seen terrible things, but he still clung to beliefs as bright and glorious as the sun.
“What is bothering you, dear friend?” he finally asked.
Already most of her worries seemed to fade. “The boys, of course.”
“The bullying?” he asked softly.
“It is hard to catch the culprits in the act no matter how closely we watch. The attacks are subtle and unrelenting. It is certainly not the work of only a few students.” She looked up at him in entreaty. “Are you certain turning a blind eye is the right decision? I hate that I had to give him detention for tardiness.”
“We are teachers, Minerva.” Albus drew her over to the fireplace and conjured soft chairs. “It is crucial for Draco learn to ask for help. Once he does, we can cast wards on his person that will repel the simple jinxes and hexes that plague him in the hallways. However, you know that wouldn’t be a true solution. It would only drive the other students to more creative lengths to make him miserable. The problem is the students’ perception of him. We must somehow change their rejection into acceptance.”
“How?” she demanded desperately. She hated to see any child suffer but maybe especially those two. Her soul ached with the knowledge of how much they had already been hurt and the difficult trials that awaited him.
Albus gave her a bright smile. “I’ve been thinking on just that thing, Minerva. I’ll give the boys a little more time, to either reach out for help or solve their problem themselves, but if that doesn’t work, what we need is to create an environment where Draco’s more virtuous and admirable qualities shine. In short, he needs to be seen as the hero.”
Minerva couldn’t help smiling back even as her stomach fluttered with nerves. What exactly was Albus planning?
…
Cold fog shrouded the ground, glowing faintly with moonlight. Twinning and snaking around the ominous shapes of trees, it smothered all sound. Barely a faint hissing of leaves could be heard. Chillingly empty, dangerous…
Out of the darkness something white coming closer… At first Harry thought it was a ghost and he gasped, scared… A horse made of pure light, standing on its back legs, nose reaching skyward, front feet kicking… Beautiful until he realized it was frothing at the mouth in terror, square blunt teeth bared, eyes rolling… A shrill scream of pain shattered the eerie silence… Sending his heart rocketing against his ribs. His whole body shook at the sound. He wanted to run far, far away…
Blood spilled and splashed, drenching the white of its coat… that was horrifically fading to a dirty, corpse grey. The dying, terrified creature fell, heavy. The thump was felt in Harry’s bones. It seemed to look right into him as the light faded from its beautiful grey eyes…
Harry screamed! He fought the blankets, trying to sit up, to stand, to move. He screamed again, tears drenching his face. Light spilled over him as his curtains were pulled aside. Neville, wide-eyed and hair mussed, grabbed his shoulder.
“Harry…” he called, voice shaking. “Harry?”
Harry turned and grabbed onto his arm desperately. His heart felt like it would pound straight out of his chest. He could almost still feel the blood, slick and terribly hot against his lips and cheeks, coating his chin.
Neville pulled Harry against his side, calm now that he realized it was just a nightmare. He stroked the trembling boy’s back, speaking softly, promising that it was just a dream, everything was fine.
Slowly, Harry’s heart stopped trying to break out of his ribs and he could breathe again. Wiping the tears from his face, he turned to the side, confused. “Draco?”
The other side of the bed was empty.
Harry’s stomach seemed to leap into his throat. The nightmare vanished from his mind as terrified urgency took its place. “Where’s Draco?” he demanded, staring up at Neville with wide-eyes.
Neville frowned. “I don’t know. He wasn’t here when you woke me up.”
Harry scrambled from the bed. He didn’t bother with a robe or slippers. Wearing only the long white t-shirt he slept in, he ran from the room. He checked the bathroom first. The lights slowly flickered to life, triggered by his presence. He checked every stall, but the room was empty. Harry ran back past Neville standing frightened in their dorm room doorway. He ignored Neville’s call of his name and practically flew down the stairs into the common room.
The room was a mess of shadows. The fire burning low, casting a dull orange-red light. Harry froze, breath caught in his throat. Standing almost dead center in the room, back toward Harry, was Draco’s silhouette.
Bile rose in the back of Harry’s throat. The white blond hair, the pale skin and bright white shirt - the figure of the white horse in his dreams - splashed with blood and dying - Gasping, struggling to breathe through a constricted throat, Harry took careful steps forward. His fingers trembled as his arm lifted, reaching.
“Draco?” he whispered.
Draco stood perfectly still. In the low light, it almost made Harry second-guess himself. “Draco?” he called a little louder, frightened. His fingertips brushed Draco’s shoulder.
Draco’s head too-slowly turned, only his head. As if in slow motion, Harry saw his mouth gaping open impossibly wide, eyes blank and unblinking, blood oozing from his nose.
Harry’s hand clenched around Draco’s shoulder in reaction, yanking the boy off balance. “Draco!”
Draco stumbled and fell to his knees. His mouth shut as life animated his face, his eyes blinking rapidly. Voice dry and hoarse, he looked up at Harry and said almost in a daze, “What time’s it?”
Harry fell to his knees and flung his arms around Draco’s neck. He shuddered as hot blood dripped onto his shoulder.
“Hey,” Draco rasped. He held Harry to him, frowning at the way the smaller boy shook in his arms. “What’s wrong? Why are we in the common room?”
Harry haltingly told him about the dream, about Draco being missing, about finding him standing down here. Draco listened, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. His frown deepened. It was getting worse - these nighttime attacks of his. It wasn’t every night, but it was often enough that Draco was beginning to grow concerned.
“I’m going to figure this out, Harry,” he promised in a warm whisper. His hand gently fisted the boy’s hair, lifted his head. He looked into Harry’s eyes. - Fear anxiety - flowed thick and heavy as syrup through the bond. “I’m going to fix this.”
Harry’s shoulders relaxed. The tears that had yet to fall finally spilled down pale cheeks - trust worry love - “Yes, Draco.”
…
Draco made a trip to the Infirmary before breakfast. Harry stood anxiously at Draco side as Madam Pomfrey delivered the results of her exam. She could find nothing out of the ordinary besides elevated stress levels and fatigue. Harry opened his mouth to argue, to insist something was wrong, but Draco squeezed his hand.
“Either she’s not telling the truth and someone is making her lie or she really can’t find anything wrong with me,” Draco explained as they made their way to the kitchen. “Either way, there’s no point arguing. We’re going to have to figure this out on our own.”
Harry’s jaw tightened as he gave a short nod - determination. “I’ll do my best, Draco.”
Draco turned to smile at him, bringing Harry’s hand to his lips to gently kiss his knuckles. “I know you will.”
Harry blushed a pretty pink, his head ducking.
…
Draco, Harry, Hermione, and Neville spent as much time as they possibly could in the library. It served two purposes. One, they had a lot to figure out if they were ever going to get on top of what was happening at Hogwarts. Two, Draco was safe from bullying under Madam Pince’s watchful eyes.
Their routine was to first finish their classwork as quickly as possible and then return to their research projects. Harry was looking up spells that could help protect Draco in the halls and keep their room safer at night while Hermione and Neville were researching magical objects that might help Voldemort come back.
If they could figure out what it was that Dumbledore was protecting, they could figure out a way to destroy it. Draco had told them that Dumbledore was waiting for permission from the true owner to destroy the item, but Draco wasn’t so inclined. If it would help Voldemort, then it had to be destroyed, permission or no.
Draco’s project was a bit more secretive. Only Harry knew that he was searching for curses that would cause him to sleepwalk and have nosebleeds. So far he hadn’t found anything that matched Harry’s disturbing descriptions.
…
Draco was just stepping through the portrait hole into the Tower when his feet jerked underneath him. The books in his arms went flying as he flailed in order to keep his balance. His body jerked about in an awkward tumble of arms and knees. His feet jumped and kicked madly, as if dancing some demented jig. The common room was full of people. They all turned at the commotion, saw Draco flailing, and burst into laughter.
“Finite incantatem,” Hermione cast firmly, brows lowered in concentration.
Draco staggered as he regained control of his feet and practically fell against the wall for balance. His hair hung limp, his face glistened with sweat. He hid his expression, trying to swallow down the helpless fury that choked him. Hands balled into fists, he just barely held onto the icy-cold magic that wanted to spill free.
Harry rushed past him and shoved Rahl, who was laughing so hard he was crying, off the couch arm he sat on. “Draco’s done nothing wrong!” he screamed. His eyes blazed behind his glasses, his face red with fury. “You think he’s some traitor because he’s a Malfoy, but it’s like you’ve forgotten that he wasn’t raised here! He was kidnapped and kept overseas until only a few years ago! If anyone’s a traitor, it’s you! For bullying one of your own! Draco’s more of a Gryffindor than you cowardly assholes who attack behind his back and laugh! You got a problem with him, say it to our faces!”
The room fell silent as Rahl slowly stood up. Broad-shouldered, a few inches shy of six-feet, Rahl stared down at Harry.
Harry didn’t back down. He stared up at the older teen with defiant rage in every line of his body.
“Better watch it, Harry,” Rahl warned, his pale blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “Being the Boy-Who-Lived will only get you so far.”
Draco came off the wall and stood at Harry’s side. “No, you better watch it,” he said softly. There was something about the way he spoke, the knowledge in his eyes, that made Rahl bare his teeth and the kids around them lean away. Then to Draco’s complete surprise, another voice spoke up.
“Leave Draco alone!” Hermione added her voice to theirs as she stepped forward to stand with her friends. “We’re just First-years! What do you hope to accomplish besides looking cruel and childish?”
“You’re just being bullies!” Neville cried defiantly. He was pale with fear, but his voice was steady.
“There’s no way a First-year, no matter who he is got a troll into the castle,” Ron stated. He crossed his arms and glared at everyone around them.
“I don’t appreciate my own House sabotaging my players,” Oliver said darkly from his position by the fire. “Draco’s my reserve Seeker. I’m going to need him fit to play if we’re going to win the Cup. Some of us are trying to get noticed by the Professional Quidditch League, you know.”
There were voices of assent to this statement from the other Quidditch players, most notably the Weasley twins.
Suddenly the air was thick with tension as the room began to divide, groups turning on each other with accusatory eyes.
Draco felt his heart pound in his chest. He hadn’t expected such support. He felt the atmosphere shift in his favor and grabbed it. He spoke low and compelling, voice growing in volume as he continued. “I know my name comes with baggage, but I am not my name. Maybe Malfoys are meant to be Slytherin, but I turned that down! I chose to be here. You can trip me, break my things, poison my food, but I’m not scared of you and I’m not going anywhere! My name is Draco not Malfoy, and I am a Gryffindor! Twin to Harry Potter! That’s who I am.”
Fred and George shared a glance, identical grins spreading across their faces. Slowly they began to clasp. Ron joined in and soon the whole of the Gryffindor team was clapping loudly, but there were still plenty of faces that looked uncertain or suspicious.
Draco gave them all a wry smile. “Come on, Harry. We still have some homework to finish before bed.”
Harry glared fiercely up at Rahl. “You’re going to have to go through me to get to Draco,” he promised. “What are you going to do? Push me down the stairs like a Slytherin?”
There were unhappy murmurs at this, but Rahl looked unfazed, eyes cold as he continued to meet the younger boy’s eyes.
Harry gave the room a dark look before turning and chasing after the blond.
…
Concerned, Professor Flitwick asked Harry to stay behind after class. Draco, of course, waited at the door for the other boy. Flitwick watched with a frown as Harry fidgeted before his desk, eyes lowered. When he spoke, it was with a hint of nervousness.
“Yes, Professor?”
“I noticed your essays have declined lately,” he told the child gently.
Green eyes looked up at him through a curtain of wavy bangs. They were ringed underneath with dark circles.
Flitwick made his voice even softer. “Are you getting enough sleep? Are you well?”
“Yes, sir,” Harry answered. The boy offered a smile. “I promise to work harder.”
It wasn’t that he wanted the child to work harder per say, he was just concerned about the boy’s health. Earnestly, he offered, “If you need help, child, my door is always open.”
At that the boy lifted his head fully for the first time during their conversation and looked Flitwick dead in the eye. “I’ve been researching defensive spells, Professor. I’ve found Protego, but it only shields you against a single spell. Is there some other spell that could protect you? Something more long-lasting?”
Flitwick ached for the boy, so young and haunted, so desperate to protect himself from others. He’d thought the bullying had stopped, but the intensity of Harry’s eyes told him that it hadn’t. Not completely. Glancing behind the boy, he noticed Draco’s cheek did look slightly red and swollen. He must have fallen again.
“There isn’t a spell that will have the effect you seek,” Flitwick explained, returning his attention to Harry. “I would recommend warding an item of clothing or a piece of jewelry to repel hostile magic.”
Harry’s face lit up with simple joy. “Thank you, Professor! I’ll research it right away!”
Flitwick didn’t have the heart to tell him that most wards were years beyond his ability.
…
Bellatrix crept from the warded room. It was three in the morning. The witching hour where dark and secretive things were at their strongest. Blood coated her fingertips. Silent as a ghost, she slipped through the elegant marble halls. She had no intention of escaping, so the wards remained quiescent. Pale, sickly thin, black curls short and messy around her head, her dark eyes stared unblinking as she followed the faint seductive tendril that flushed her skin and made her back arch.
The soft creek of a door as it swung inward. A dark office - books lined the walls, plush rugs, a wide window only slightly silvered with the tiny crescent moon looming above. She was pulled forward, soft gasps escaping her lips as the feeling of sweet, rich darkness tantalized her senses. Almost on it’s own, a drawer opened. A black, velvet covered book sat inside.
She moaned as her fingers caressed the leather surface and lifted it up high. “My Lord,” she breathed reverently. Opening the book, she set it on the desk and lifted the quill that sat ready at the edge.
…
Draco yawned as he made his way up to the library with Harry. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to read old, musty books. It was so damn frustrating having symptoms but no real clue what exactly he was looking for. It was a wild goose chase that had no end.
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” he said. Maybe splashing water on his face would help wake him up. “Go on without me.”
Harry gave him a smile and a nod, hurrying ahead.
Draco smiled fondly as he watched Harry enter their sanctuary. Harry had been studying wards for the last few days, ever since Flitwick pointed him in that direction, and he felt like he was on the verge of figuring it out.
Draco entered the bathroom and headed directly for the sinks. He turned the nob so only cold water came out and cupped his hands.
The lights went out.
All at once, with no sound or warning, just instant and total darkness.
Draco’s eyes stared wide and blind. His heart beat hard and fast in his chest as he gripped the cold porcelain edge of the sink. It was possible the room wasn’t dark, but that he’d been hexed blind. With that in mind, he made sure to control his expression. He would not show fear.
Smoothly, he released the sink and straightened. He turned to face the room. Black… perfect black… He couldn’t see. Swallowing hard, he took a step forward. Ping! Draco froze, stilling as the sound echoed. What was that?
Shit.
Forcing his shoulders to relax, he took another step. Nothing. Third step… Ping! Draco froze again. This time the sound was much closer. He was breathing faster now. Who was here with him? He wanted to snarl and growl. The constant attacks had let up a bit since his speech in the common room. There were days where nothing happened to him at all and he had a feeling his bullies were about to make up for it now.
Draco braced himself and stood his ground. “What the fuck do you want?” he demanded, voice low and controlled.
Nothing. No response. Just blackblackblack…
Draco took a step toward where he thought the door was and another. Clang! Draco jumped, the noise was much louder now. It sounded like metal on metal. “If you’re not going to do anything, I’ve got other places to be!” he yelled defiantly.
Clang! Determined to stop for nothing, he walked carefully forward. Clang! Clang! He ignored the noise and kept moving forward. Silence. He bumped into a tiled wall. Sweating, he slid his hands along the cold, tiled surface, looking for the doorway.
A few steps forward and the wall became sticky and slowly grew warm under his touch. “What the fuck?” he hissed, but he refused to take his hands off the wall. Without it, he had no idea where to go. “I’m going to kill you when I get my hands on you,” he muttered darkly.
His hair stuck uncomfortably to his cheeks and forehead. God, why was it getting so damn hot in here? And what the fuck was all over the fucking wall? Bang! With a snarl, he tried to yank his hands back, but they were stuck fast. It felt like the wall was melting, swallowing his fingers and creeping up his wrists. Bang! Disgusting squelching sounds filled his ears.
“Get it the fuck off me!” Draco yelled, pulling with all his might.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
He screamed…
…
Harry frowned at the library door. It had been ten minutes. Draco should have been back by now. “I’m going to check on him.” He pushed up from the table and Neville grabbed his wrist. He looked over to see the other boy staring back at him pale and worried.
“I’ll go with you.”
Hermione didn’t even notice as they left. She was deeply buried in her book. Together, they hurried from the library. The hallway outside was empty. Harry frowned. A faint thud! could be heard from inside the bathroom.
“Draco?” he called.
Thud!
Harry walked deeper in only to gasp and rush forward.
Draco stood to the left of the sinks and was slamming his forehead against the wall again and again. Red painted the tile, splattering wider with every thud! of Draco’s head against the hard surface.
Screaming Draco’s name, they pulled him away from the wall, the three of them falling back, Draco in their laps. The blond went suddenly limp. His eyes fluttering closed. Blood gushed from a cut at Draco’s hairline, coating his forehead and dripping down his cheeks like tears.
Terrified, furious, Harry looked up at Neville and screamed, “Go get help!”, as he tried to staunch the bleeding with his robe sleeve. Neville scrambled back, his eyes staring in horror at the blood dripping down the wall. Then he turned, feet scrambling on the slick floor, and ran.
As soon as he was gone, Harry bent close, folding over Draco’s head in his lap. He placed his lips over the cut and searched deep inside. Draco was his everything… Draco was hurt… The ache in his heart became a soul-deep need to fix, to heal. Warm blood filled his mouth, coated his tongue, Harry swallowed, shivering at the feeling of Draco’s blood filling him from the inside, and let his magic pour down.
…
Severus crept silently through the darkened Infirmary. Draco lay in a nearby bed unconscious. He’d had no wounds when he’d been admitted, but the blood in the bathroom by the library told a different story. Harry sat in a chair pulled up to the blond's bedside. He was folded in half with his upper body laying over Draco’s chest and waist, as if trying to hold him there. He was sound asleep, face pale with dark circles casting shadows under his eyes.
Satisfied that the children were safe for now, Severus stalked back the way he had come. He wasn’t surprised to find Dumbledore waiting for him just outside the doors. “You cannot keep this from the Malfoys,” Severus stated, not bothering to hide the satisfaction in his tone.
Dumbledore’s blue eyes were cold and calculating behind his half-moon glasses. “Yes. The Malfoys will be informed of the bullying. Hopefully the boys will convince them to stay as I believe they were close to fixing the problem.”
“Bullying?” Severus could not believe his ears. “This was not done by bullies, Albus! Draco’s mind was attacked and he’s growing unstable. You read Longbottom and Harry’s statements! Draco was braining himself!”
“And yet he arrived with no physical injury. The blood in the bathroom must have been part of the prank to startle Draco’s friends.”
Severus stared at his old mentor, shock written on his face for a brief second before his eyes narrowed, a look of fury boiling across his features. “Prank?”
Dumbledore reached out and gripped Severus’s shoulder with surprising strength. “Listen to me, Severus. Draco’s mind is stronger than the average child’s. In fact, these lapses may indeed be him breaking free of whatever was cast on him.” He drew even closer, his expression suddenly threatening. “Do you really believe a Mind Healer, no matter how skilled, would be able to help him? We both know Draco would reject any foreign presence immediately. Especially in these circumstances. They would in fact only hinder Draco further. I will hear no more of your suspicions regarding Draco’s mind. Understood?”

As Dumbledore released him, Severus realized he was breathing hard. He glared at the Headmaster and shrugged his shoulders to get the ghostly feeling of the Headmaster’s hand from his shoulder.
Dumbledore gave him a gentle smile, suddenly old and wise once more. “This is a battle Draco must wage on his own, Severus. Should the Malfoys hear your suspicions, they would not be able to help him regardless and would pull him out of Hogwarts. We both know why that is unacceptable.”
Severus sneered and spun on his heel, his robes flaring around his feet. “I understand perfectly, Headmaster,” he answered, cold and stiff, before disappearing down the hall, the shadows embracing his rigid form.
Dumbledore watched him go, suddenly aged beyond his years. “I doubt that, Severus. I truly doubt that.”
Chapter end.
A/N: Question about pacing!!
So I’m really, really torn between narrating this story on a mostly day-to-day basis to show the build up of their everyday life and stress like I did with the majority of Freedom Found in Chains versus a narration more like this chapter where time passes more quickly with only significant moments being expressed in detail… I would REALLY love the feedback on this.
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Freedom Bound in Chains