Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 80
- 81
- 82
A/N: Happy Yule! Sorry for the delay. I really appreciate all the great feedback. :)
Things are slowly but surely moving forward. This is the start of very big things.
Integrity
Ron told Dean and Seamus to go on without him. He’d been surprised when Neville had come sneaking into his room, the other boy blushing and stuttering about Draco and Harry needing space. Ron had grumbled in confusion, but he’d moved over and fallen right back to sleep. In the light of morning, however, he was worried about his friends.
“What do you mean he had a bad nightmare? How bad? And about what?” His hair had gotten longer, falling over the tops of his ears and across his forehead. He brushed it impatiently back as he gave the other boy a hard stare.
“I d-don’t k-know,” Neville answered nervously, his eyes darting to the side.
Ron could have growled. It was clear Neville was trying to protect Harry’s secret, but from Ron? It was true that his friends had been distant lately, always shut away or buried in books, but he’d been so sure if something serious was going on, they’d include him.
He dressed quickly, pulling on his warmest clothes. A sharp chill was coming off the stones; the winter solstice may be days away, but no one had told the weather that. The school was hours north of his home and was proving to be much colder than he was used to. Brows lowered in a scowl, he followed Neville back to his room to see what was going on with his friends.
Draco was already up and dressed, sitting at the desk with his legs crossed as he watched Harry. He wore jeans, his black Converse shoes, and a heavy, dark blue sweater. Draco’s school robe and a thick cloak with black fur around the collar were draped over the bed, waiting.
Harry stood by the armoire. He had on wool slacks that were a dark grey in color, black leather ankle-boots, a blue, long-sleeved dress shirt tucked into his pants, and was just pulling on a black wool sweater. His head popped out of the hole, his hair messier than normal and with his black-framed glasses already on his face.
Harry gave them a shy smile. “Good morning,” he said softly.
“Morning, Harry,” Ron answered absently. He crossed the distance to stand next to the desk, eyes on the inscrutable blond. “What happened last night?” he demanded quietly.
Neville busied himself getting dressed and ready for the day. Fortunately, they had no classes as it was Sunday. They all would have probably slept in a bit, but in a few hours, directly after breakfast, the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Quidditch match would start. Harry helped him get ready, apologizing about the night before.
“Harry had a nightmare,” Draco answered simply. His grey eyes cut upward to hold Ron’s gaze. “It was a bad one, but I handled it. He got a few more hours of sleep afterward.”
“What’s been going on with you two?” He shot Draco a warning glare. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. We’re friends, aren’t we? If somethings going on, let me help.”
Draco sighed. He propped his elbow on the edge of the desk and rested his cheek against his fist. “It’s complicated and dangerous. Honestly, I don’t know if there is anything you can do to help or I would have asked.”
Ron flushed red. “But Pleasant and Longbottom can?” he hissed.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. He stood in a smooth movement. Ron was taller, but at least it was only a few inches instead of the redhead standing over him while he was still sitting. “Neville’s been an enormous help and Hermione is amazing at research. What exactly do you expect to accomplish by being a jerk? Don’t let your temper lead, Ron. We’ve talked about this before.”
At first Ron looked about to explode. His fists clenched; his jaw tensed. Neville froze, watching with wide eyes, but Harry continued pulling out his friend’s outerwear for the day, unconcerned.
Draco remained calm, steadily staring into Ron’s eyes, and a miracle happened. Ron let out a huge breath. His shoulders loosened, his fists uncurled. He took a slow breath in and let it out softly.
“I’m worried. I’d like to know what’s happening. I wanna help,” the redhead eventually said. His voice was calm. His eyes were steady.
Draco gave a nod to acknowledge Ron’s efforts. “Thank you.” He reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder in praise. “Like I said, it’s dangerous and complicated. We can’t get into it now. If you want to know what’s happening, we’re going to meet up after the match. You could join us.”
Ron gave a determined nod. “Well, let’s go then.” He broke out into a irrepressible grin. “I’m hungry! Breakfast is on!”
Draco smiled indulgently. He held his hand out to Harry and his boy immediately came to his side, accepting it. Draco couldn’t help but think of the dozens of tender bites that even now must be throbbing on Harry’s skin, hidden away under his sweater and shirt. Draco slid his hand up Harry’s arm until he reached the back above the elbow. He squeezed gently and thrilled in the way Harry sucked in a soft breath.
- love pain gratitude -
Practically purring, Draco turned his attention back to the room. Neville was just pulling on his school robe. They were ready. Draco released Harry to quickly slip into his warded school robe and pull on his cloak. Harry did the same, grabbing two sets of Gryffindor hats, gloves, and scarves.
Breakfast was a loud, rowdy affair, everyone excited for the second Quidditch match of the year. It didn’t help that the illusion of snow was falling from the enchanted ceiling, indicating the first snowfall had occurred.
As soon as they stepped outside, sloppy snowballs were flying through the air between shrieking kids. Fred and George threw one at Draco, but it missed and hit Harry. It exploded with a whump. Harry staggered with a wince, his hand coming up to shield his chest from further attacks. Draco shot them a vicious glare. The twins bolted, laughing loudly.
Draco made sure to walk directly in front of Harry the rest of the way to the pitch. * I can heal them…* he offered quietly, mind-to-mind.
Harry shook his head hard in refusal, a hot blush rising on his cheeks - desire embarrassment.
Draco grinned.
It was cold. Everyone was bundled up in hats, scarves, mittens. Noses red, they cheered as the game started, yellow and blue players soaring into the sky. Goals were scored, bludgers were smacked straight at players, but inevitably the snitch was spotted and a winner would soon be decided. The Seekers were neck-in-neck, their shoulders bumping into each other as they tried to knock the other player off the trail. With Harry’s excitement burning through him, Draco cheered so loudly he was in danger of losing his voice.
Hufflepuff caught the snitch, the Seeker performing a crazy summersault as he leapt off his broom to win the golden ball before the Ravenclaw Seeker could grab it. The spectators went wild, except for those in Ravenclaw blue. Draco shook his head as Harry jumped up and down next to him.
Ron and Draco were still talking about it as they made their way to the library where Hermione was waiting for them. (She did not approve of violent sports or standing stupidly out in the cold to watch them.)
“But how do you think they feel now?” Draco was insisting. “Ravenclaw was clearly the better team. They outmaneuvered Hufflepuff in every way. Their Seekers were evenly matched. Hufflepuff just happened to be more daring, so they won the game, but is it really a win when you know your team wasn’t the better one?”
“Daring is a valid quality in the game! They had more, so they won fair and square. Of course it’s a real win!” Ron protested.
“Fine, but as for the rest of the team, they were clearly not as good.”
Ron had nothing to say to that except a petulant, “You can’t take the snitch out of Quidditch, Draco!”
“Then it should be less points. Say, fifty. Or make the goals scored with the quaffle worth more. Instead of ten, they should be worth thirty.”
Ron hated the idea, but he had no way to battle Draco’s logic. Instead he changed the subject. They were in the library at this point and he could see Longbottom-Pleasant sitting at a table toward the back. “Look, there she is. Now can you tell me what’s going on?”
Her thick, frizzy hair was pulled back away from her face in a low ponytail. Several books were spread out around her, a few open, a few shut and waiting to be used. As the four boys took seats, filling out the table, she lifted her eyebrows at Ron’s inclusion.
Draco gave her a reassuring smile. “At the very least, a new perspective might help.”
Hermione looked doubtful, but she didn’t interrupt as Draco began to explain the bare bones of the situation. He left out mention of Snape and the Dark Lord, but he did explain it was very important for them to destroy the stone since Dumbledore’s hands were tied. If the stone fell into the possession of someone evil, it would be very bad for everyone.
Ron frowned as he listened, his mind spinning with possibilities and strategies. “The Devil’s Snare will likely be the next defense after the cerberus.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” Hermione snapped.
Ron shot her a heated glare. “I can’t know it, but it’s likely.”
“How in the world is it likely?” she demanded.
“Because Devil’s Snare is only dangerous if you come into contact with it. Most people know what it is and would destroy it from a distance. The only way it would be worthwhile as a defense is if you arranged it so someone was forced to come into contact with it. I’m thinking the cerberus is guarding a trap door and you’ll have to drop down into the next room right into the middle of the Devil’s Snare. It’s just too perfect a chance to fully utilize the Snare’s defensive capability.”
Hermione had a look of surprise on her face while Draco looked smug. “That’s… brilliant,” she admitted.
Ron turned bright red to the tips of his ears. “Not really. Just logical is all.”
“Exactly,” she responded.
He shot her a nasty glare, blush disappearing. “I’m not stupid!” he growled.
She said nothing; the implication being that it was debatable.
Draco intervened before Ron could explode. “That leaves us with four more defenses and we have no idea how to find out what they are.”
“Potions, Tranfiguration, Charms, and whatever Dumbledore cooked up,” Ron summarized.
“We’ll never figure out Dumbledore’s,” Neville said in defeat, slumping in his chair.
“Probably not,” Ron agreed. “Or Potions. Snape wouldn’t tell us if his life depended on it and especially not if our lives depended on it.”
“McGonagall is sharp. She’s not going to let us trick it out of her,” Draco added. He hooked his bangs behind his ears sharply, a gesture of frustration.
Hermione scowled down at the book she had open. “I’m having no luck with Flitwick.”
“Well, we could follow the person stealing it,” Ron offered. They all stared at him. “What?” he demanded, crossing his arms defensively. “They would have to get through the defenses, right? To get to the stone to steal it. We could go in behind them. It shouldn’t be so hard then. We would at least see how they got through them if they didn’t take them down completely.”
“And then what?” Hermione hissed furiously. “We’ll be too late.”
“Not necessarily.” Draco gave Harry a thoughtful look. Trusting green eyes stared back. “If we go in right on the thief’s heels, we could destroy it before they escaped with it.”
“That sounds really, really dangerous,” Hermione protested softly, dark brown eyes filled with worry.
Draco ignored that. “So we need to make finding out how to destroy the stone our top priority and we’ll set an alarm so we’ll know right away if someone tries to get past Fluffy.” He reached over to squeeze Ron’s shoulder. “Thanks, Ron. You were a huge help.”
Ron shot Hermione a dazzling smile.
She scowled and looked away.
xXx
Harry was exhausted. From the stress of the last few weeks, from the night terror the night before and Draco’s claiming, from the constant low level pain of the bites left on his body… That meant he didn’t realize at first what was pulling him from a deep sleep.
It was dark, cold, but warm under the blankets. He wasn’t dreaming. Just sleeping deeply, body heavy. Soft, almost not there scratch-scritch-scratching reached his ears. Scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch. Harry’s brow tensed and then his eyes squinted open. Was it a mouse eating at the walls?
Too dark to see, his hand slid over soft, warm sheets to feel empty space. Adrenaline dumped into his blood and hit his brain like a truck. Draco was missing! He sat up quickly and scrambled to the edge with the nightstand. He flung the curtain open and tapped the lamp. It fluttered to life.
Scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch.
Harry’s eyes darted around what he could see of the room, but he couldn’t see… “Draco?” he called in an urgent voice.
Scratch-scratch-scritch…
Harry crawled to the other side of the bed and flung aside the curtain. He gasped, eyes wide. Draco was crouched in the shadows between the bed and the wall wearing nothing but a white t-shirt. His hands slowly clawed at the stone floor… Scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch… Harry couldn’t see his face, but Draco’s body was tensed, rigid.
“Draco…” Harry called - worry fear love.
He got no reaction. Some of Draco’s nails had broken and were bloody… Scratch-scratch-scritch…
Climbing out of bed, Harry crossed the small space between them. His heart pounded in his throat as he reached out a trembling hand. “Draco…” Harry’s fingertips gently touched the blond’s tensed shoulder.
Draco whipped around, face contorted with a snarl, eyes wild and wide. He made a screeching sound that had Harry screaming and scrambling back. Draco scuttled with shocking speed underneath the bed and the scritch-scratch, scritch-scratch started again.
“Harry…” Neville’s sleepy voice made him jump. “What’s going on?”
Harry’s voice shook. From the cold and fear. “Get Percy please?” He only wore his own sleep shirt. His feet were bare and already he was shivering. How long had Draco been out of bed? He must be frozen solid! Slowly, Harry crouched to see under the bed.
Draco lunged at him. Harry yelled, falling back on his butt. Draco landed on top of him, shrieking. Sharp broken nails scratched at Harry’s neck, caught at his collar. Harry wrapped his arms around the blond, ignoring the pain, and let his magic flood free. Draco shrieked like a wounded animal and dove back under the bed.
Dazed, Harry lay bleeding from the scratches at his throat and shoulders. He could hear Neville hyperventilating. He rolled onto his hands and knees, then stood. “Neville, get Percy. I’ll stay and watch him.”
“We need Madam Pomfrey! Or Dumbledore!” Neville protested, terrified.
“She doesn’t help! No one helps,” Harry snapped, eyes narrowed.“Get Percy! Hurry!”
Neville scrambled out of bed and bolted past him. He didn’t bother with a sleeping robe or slippers.
Draco darted for the door, face contorted into something crazy. Harry leapt in front of him, arms open and magic radiating from his body. Draco veered away with an animalistic hiss. He climbed onto the middle bed and pressed himself against the headboard. A crazy croaking escaped his wide-open mouth, clicking occasionally. The sound made goosebumps rise along Harry’s arms and the back of his neck.
Harry’s heart beat a crazy rhythm. Oh god what was wrong with Draco? “It’s okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you.”
Scratch-scratch-scritch … Draco clawed at the wood of the headboard behind him. His head tilted, the creepy sound coming from his throat growing louder. Harry bit his lip, terrified, as Draco’s head seemed to turn almost upside down, eyes bulging and unblinking.
“What’s happening to you?” Harry whispered, tears of horror welling in his eyes. “Draco…”
xXx
Neville beat almost blindly on Percy’s door. He was too panicked to think clearly, so when Oliver Wood opened it with a sleepy look of wrath, Neville latched onto his arm to keep from falling forward and practically screamed in his face.
“Percy! I need Percy! Draco’s acting crazy! Something’s wrong with him. Something's really wrong!”
Oliver looked shocked and then really worried. “Longbottom, what…?”
Percy appeared behind the Quidditch captain. He placed a hand on Neville’s shoulder as he passed, pushing him gently into the room. “Stay here. You can have my bed.”
“Percy…” Oliver stared at the other boy in surprise. The redhead could be bossy, but he was mostly quiet and a loner. Oliver had never heard him sound so intense or serious before.
Percy didn’t answer, slipping silently down the hall and disappearing into the shadows.
Oliver shook his head and shut the door behind the clearly freaked First-year. “Alright, kid. Guess you’re bunking with us.”
Neville swallowed hard and wrapped his arms around his chest. Three other boys were sitting up and staring with either curiosity or annoyance.
Oliver waved them off. “Show’s over. Go back to sleep,” he ordered as he guided Neville to Percy’s bed.
Neville didn’t resist. He didn’t want to go back to his room. Draco had been terrifying, like something possessed. He shivered hard and crawled under the still warm comforter. He pulled it over his head to muffle his heavy breathing.
“Hey. It’s going to be fine. Percy’s a know-it-all. I’m sure he’ll fix it,” Oliver reassured the boy. He was already falling back to sleep.
Neville really hoped he was right because Draco was not okay.
xXx
Percy didn’t know what to expect, but he knew it had to be bad to scare the Longbottom boy and have Harry sending for him. He took a deep breath, his wand held tightly in his right hand, and quietly opened the door, slipping inside and shutting it quickly behind him.
Almost immediately he tensed as the most terrifying sound reached his ears. Draco was croaking, crouched on all fours on a bed. He looked to be trying to throw something up, his back arching violently every few seconds. His face was twisted in the most hateful expression, eyes bulging and locked on Harry.
Harry stood frozen, eyes wide as he watched the blond. He stood in nothing but a t-shirt. His neck was bleeding from several scratches, staining the collar of his shirt a vivid red. There were round bruises on the back of his arms and circling his wrists, but otherwise he seemed fine.
Percy’s eyes snapped back to Draco. He had never seen anything like it. He shuddered in horror and carefully lifted his wand. Before he could cast a single spell, Draco flung himself up on his knees and began to scream bloody murder. Percy and Harry both slammed their hands over their ears in shock.
Draco clawed as his head, ripping white strands free from his scalp. Harry ran forward and flung himself on the blond. Draco immediately began to thrash and struggle, still screaming like a banshee, head and arms whipping back and forth. Harry held on for dear life, tucking his head in against Draco’s neck.
Percy darted forward and cast the strongest sleeping spell he knew, lashing the blond across the shin with his wand.
Draco should have been out like a light, but instead he slowly weakened. His scream tampered off into broken whimpers as his arms stilled. After thirty seconds, he was finally silent and unconscious. Harry lifted his head and kissed the blond’s pale lips, pushing as much of his love and healing magic as he could through the connection.
Percy backed off, breathing hard as he tried to understand everything he’d seen.
xXx
Draco was somewhere dark. His chest felt heavy and his stomach churned, a distorted, sick feeling of butterflies. Tears welled in his eyes. He felt hopeless. There was no point. No point to fighting or caring. It didn’t matter in the end. Anxiety churned harder and he clenched his fist over his stomach. What about Harry? Fuck, what was he going to do?
He could almost taste it, the feel of Harry’s warm magic, but it was as if a thick sheet of glass separated him from the bond, from the world. He was in a dark place. Alone. He hadn’t been alone since he was five. He’d felt this crushing hopelessness back then, too, but he’d learned to survive. Learned to hunker down, conserve his resources, and wait. Draco wasn’t sure he had it in him this time. He was so fucking tired. The world was closing in around him and he felt sick.
xXx
Percy didn’t have long to think about what was going on or the fact that Harry’s bruises were from bites. Draco’s eyes opened and he weakly pushed at Harry, which shouldn’t be possible. Percy’s spell should have knocked him out until he cast the counter. He tensed, ready for another crazed attack. Harry, on the other hand, pulled back with a soft breath of surprise and a burning look of hope.
Percy expected Draco to immediately comfort the smaller boy, but instead Draco turned his face away. Percy frowned. As Harry sat back on his heels, he shot Percy a pleading look. Percy straightened his back and took charge. He had four younger siblings. The instincts drilled into him by his mother on how to deal with sick kids kicked in.
“I’m going to wash him up. Clean up the room. We’ll be back.”
Harry nodded, eyes wide as he watched Percy scoop Draco into his arms bridal style and carried him to the door.
Draco lay complacently in the older teenager’s arms. What was the fucking point of fighting it? At least it got him away from Harry. Tears burned his cheeks. He began to gasp, unable to catch his breath.
Percy shut the bathroom door behind him, placed Draco on his feet, and quickly spelled the door locked and soundproof. He turned back to see Draco standing as if lost, arms wrapped around his chest, shaking in the midst of a panic attack.
Percy moved Draco to the side of the tub and sat him on the edge. He rubbed the boy’s back, putting enough pressure to lean the boy forward. “That’s it. You’re alright.” He reached behind Draco to turn on the hot water and stopper the tub.
Draco exploded into sudden movement. Heart banging in his chest, lightheaded, he threw himself across the room. With his back to Percy, he pressed his forehead against the cold tile, grit his teeth, and choked back the sobs. He was coming apart; his control was shattered. He wanted to burrow into a dark hole and never come out.
“Leave me the fuck alone,” Draco gasped when he had enough breath.
“I can’t, Draco,” Percy said softly. “I don’t know what’s going on with you. I can’t risk you hurting yourself again.”
Draco snarled and hit the wall with a shaking fist. It hurt, but the pain and anger began to ease the claws that were sunk deep in his chest. He gulped back the tears and slowly his trembling stopped. He opened his fist and pressed his hand flat to the wall. It was red where he’d hit it, but he also noticed his nails were broken and short. There was no damage or blood - he vaguely remembered the warm wash of Harry’s unique magic - but Draco knew he’d had to have clawed at something hard to get them to look like that. It wouldn’t have been pretty.
“Fuck!” he screamed and punched the wall again. Heavy anxiety and depression consumed everything. Closed off his mind, blinded and smothered. He was still shaking; his knees felt weak. “Harry?” he rasped. He pressed his forehead hard against the cold tile of the wall.
“Safe,” Percy answered honestly. “Shaken up but unhurt…” There was a pause and then the redhead said, “Except for the bites and bruising.”
Draco felt some of the tension leave his shaking frame. He could feel it again, the current of Harry’s emotions - worry trust protective. “What happened?” he rasped hoarsely, eyes closed.
Percy stared at the boy’s back. The feeling of the boy’s surprisingly light weight in his arms wouldn’t leave him. Draco was so strong and indomitable. It had been shocking to see him so vulnerable and pliant. He wouldn’t forget Harry’s bruises or his suspicions about them, but now wasn’t the time to push.
“I don’t know how it started, but Longbottom came for me. I told him to stay in my room and when I got here, you were crazed. Standing on the bed, making these sounds… You didn’t recognize us at all. When you began to hurt yourself - you were clawing at the headboard - Harry flung himself on you. While he held you down, I was able to spell you to sleep. You should have stayed that way, but after only a few minutes, you woke up.”
Draco turned around, arms back around his chest in a protective hold. His grey eyes were dark with exhaustion, but he was alert, anger clear in the tight cast of his face. “What the fuck’s happening to me?”
Percy held his gaze. “I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think it’s a spell. I’ve heard stories that described something like what I saw. I think…” Percy took a deep breath. “I think someone messed with your head.”
Draco felt a sick feeling of dread.
“Something like that is way beyond school-age magic,” Percy continued. He felt sick as he remembered his own First-year. He’d gone almost out of his mind with fear as he suffered those nightly visits - held down against his will, used as a heavy weight sweated and rutted against him. He always blacked out and there was never any evidence left behind in the morning. Magic had to be involved and he was plagued with nearly debilitating questions.
Was more being done and he was made not to remember? Were the terrifying moments fake memories implanted by someone else? If he couldn’t even trust his mind, how would he ever be able to stop it? What if it never stopped?
Percy almost hadn’t made it home. He had contemplated death so many times, and he was furious and sick over the fact that Draco was experiencing something similar. Draco was just a child! “There are some…” he continued, throat tight with emotion. “They don’t react well to mind altering spells. They fight it unconsciously, experiencing demented and crazed episodes.”
Draco could hardly breathe. His vision was going black around the edges and he had to lean against the wall for support. His mind? Someone had fucked with his mind? He couldn’t remember anything like that… but he wouldn’t, would he?
“There’s a chance you can break the spell.” Percy looked up, hope in his eyes. “There’s a chance.”
“And if I don’t?” Draco whispered. He now understood Harry’s desire to claw out of his body. He felt disgusting and trapped inside his own skin.
“You’ll go insane,” Percy confessed. He ran a hand through his frizzy red curls, brown eyes dark with worry. He sat at the edge of the tub in his blue and white-stripped pajamas. “The episodes will get closer and closer until that’s all that’s left. They’d lock you up in Saint Mungo’s. Potion you until you’re calm and leave you there.”
Draco understood; he’d be placed in an asylum. Harry wouldn’t leave him. He’d either be arrested or locked up too as the darkness was left unchecked. They’d maybe share cells next to each other. Draco clenched his fists and grit his teeth, fury washing his vision red.
“That’s not going to fucking happen,” he vowed, dark and murderous.
Percy shivered at the tone. “No. I don’t think it will.”
The rage washed out as fast as it had come and nearly took him to his knees as terror washed in. What the fuck was he going to do to stop it? His mind had been fucked with. With painful clarity, he suddenly remembered Harry’s sweet voice saying, “You’re fighting it. And that means you’re going to beat it.” He saw the faith and trust in Percy’s eyes. They believed in him. And it hurt, that belief. Draco felt his breath quicken. Panic sat heavy on his chest. He turned his back, biting his lip to keep broken sounds behind his teeth.
Percy turned the hot water off as it neared the edge of the tub. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. Draco stood silently shaking, clinging to the cold bathroom wall to keep his feet. He looked about to shatter.
Standing, Percy said, “I’ll be in your room since I gave my bed to Longbottom.”
He didn’t know how to help, but he knew that him being there was only making it harder for the blond. Maybe he needed a minute to cry and gather his strength? Heart beating hard, he left Draco to his privacy and hoped to Merlin he was making the right choice.
Slipping into the First-year dorm, he saw that Harry had put on his sleeping robe and had cleaned the room. There was no more blood on the walls, the furniture was put back in place, the middle bed was made neatly as if no one had touched it. Harry sat at the edge of the far right bed, but he got to his feet as Percy quietly entered.
“He’s taking a shower,” Percy reassured him, trying to smile.
Harry smiled in relief, tension leaving his shoulders, and slowly sat back down. “Thank you, Percy. For taking care of him.” He felt a stab of jealousy, but it quickly faded. What was important was Draco. Whatever helped Draco was good and he was thankful.
Percy moved across the room and sat on the edge of the middle bed, facing Harry. He couldn’t see the bruises because Harry’s robe was covering them, but he knew they were there. He unconsciously moved his hand to push his glasses higher up his nose. His fingers met air; he hadn’t had time to put them on when Longbottom came banging on his door.
“Harry…” He cleared his throat. The boy stared at him attentively with bright green eyes behind round glasses. His hair was a mess, but it always was. A soft smile sat on his lips, ignorant to Percy’s worries. “Do they hurt?” He gestured weakly at Harry’s arms.
Harry frowned in confusion and then lit up with recognition. His hand cupped the back of his arm. Doing so had his sleeve falling down, revealing the bruises encircling his wrist. Now that Percy could see them more clearly and up close, they looked put there by a rope. The bruises were only on one side of the wrist, but they had distinctly round edges. If Harry’s wrists were tied together, the rope would only have gone around the outside as his inner wrists would have been pressed together.
“Not much,” Harry answered easily.
He didn’t look afraid or ashamed or embarrassed. Percy was quite confused. “Did Draco do that to you?”
Harry nodded, his hand dropping casually into his lap. “Yes.” He looked up into Percy’s eyes, love filling his gaze. “Draco takes care of me.”
Now Percy was even more baffled. “But why would he hurt you?”
Harry’s smile fell, his eyes dropping to his lap where his fingers now tangled and twisted slowly together. “I need it,” he admitted. He looked back up at Percy. He’d always wondered why others didn’t understand. Dobby did, but no one else. Maybe Percy could understand. He wore Draco’s snake. Draco had marked him as one of his.
“I need to belong to him. Without Draco…” Harry shuddered. “I… I was ugly… disgusting…” He shook his head, trying to find the right words. “You couldn’t touch me without getting filthy… I was not human… I was a thing, evil and vile. Sometimes other people can still see it… Like the ones who took us… They saw… Tried to clean me… It hurt so bad…”
His eyes flashed up to Percy, surprisingly bright and clear. “But not like Draco! Draco doesn’t hurt me like they did… No he… He gets inside me, makes me his… makes me new. I’m not dirty or broken or evil. I’m Draco’s! I’m good! I take care of him and I can be a real person… Because nothing of Draco’s can be bad. Draco’s amazing! He… He makes all the bad feel good…” Harry blushed, remembering just how good Draco could make him feel. “You understand, don’t you?” he asked hopefully. “Draco marked you, too. It hurt, but it made you better. Being Draco’s makes everything better.”
Percy shared Harry’s blush. He couldn’t hold those earnest green eyes and looked toward the door. He kind of did understand actually, but at the same time it went against everything society taught him about, well, everything. Pain was bad. Hurting others was bad. Kids shouldn’t do those kinds of things…
But at the same time pain could sometimes be okay. When a doctor was treating you, sometimes they had to hurt you more to make you well. Medicine was like that, too. And Draco was sort of like medicine, really. As for the sex…
Well, what do you expect? Kids are innocent. They had found something that felt good, why would they stop? It’s like eating candy or cake. Kids didn’t understand how it could be bad for them, right? Draco and Harry made each other feel good, so why wouldn’t they? Percy had witnessed a few moments of them getting off. Draco had been rough, but Harry had always seemed to really like everything Draco did.
Now bright red, Percy left the bed to put some distance between him and Harry and all these confusing, conflicting thoughts. He understood, but he didn’t. Bruised wrists and bites were way more violent than anything he’d seen the boys do together that was for sure, but Harry was comfortable and happy. He wasn’t embarrassed to talk about it at all. There was no shame in his voice or expression. And the way he had talked about himself…
It sent shivers of horror up and down Percy’s spine. To hear such horrible things said in a child’s voice… It made him feel sick. Whatever had made Harry feel that way seemed way more horrific than the bites and bruises that Harry seemed perfectly happy to wear.
They sat in silence after that. Percy began to get nervous as an hour passed. Should he check on the blond? Harry was staring at him expectantly now, silently asking where Draco was. Percy bit his lip. He should go check. He stood just as Draco stepped into the room, hair damp from his shower, his cheeks red from the heat of the water.
The blond looked better, if a little tired. Harry immediately went to his side. Draco pulled him into a hug, rubbing his cheek against the side of Harry’s head. “I’m okay,” he promised. He pushed Harry gently away to look into his eyes. “You okay?”
Harry nodded quickly, but Draco had seen the scratches at his throat.
Eyes narrowed, he pressed three fingers at Harry’s mouth. Harry opened his lips immediately to accept them inside. Draco was soft and gentle. His other hand came to rest at Harry’s throat, his thumb stroking over the leather collar. When his fingers were wet enough, he slipped them out of Harry’s soft, warm mouth and spread the boy’s healing magic over the scratches and cuts. He pulled aside the robe to make sure to heal the ones on the boy’s slender shoulders.
Percy watched all this from several feet away. His shoulders loosened and he could feel the tension easing out of his body. Draco was so gentle and conscientious. It was clear how much he adored Harry. He really did take care of him. He keep an eye on Harry, but for now he had no right to say anything about the bruises.
xXx
Draco never did go back to sleep. He sat watching over Harry sleeping next to him and Percy asleep in the next bed. They both had been exhausted. Truth be told, Draco was too, but he couldn’t sleep, not with the thought of his mind being fucked with. If that was true, there was no cure. They’d just have to wait to see if he beat it or went crazy, clearly his mind wouldn’t give up fighting whatever it was.
It was only a few hours later when Neville stepped nervously into the room. Draco was already dressed and writing at the desk. He stood and went to the other boy. Neville squeaked in surprise as he was pulled into a tight hug.
“Thank you, Neville. You really helped me out. I swear I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
“What did happen?” Neville asked. He’d been scared Draco would be just as he was last night and he was painfully relieved to see that Percy had been able to fix it.
“Someone cast a spell on my mind and it didn’t take. Not all the way,” Draco told him honestly.
He wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders and walked him toward Neville’s bed. He sat his friend down and crouched so he could look up at the other boy. Neville’s eyes were wide in a very pale face. He gently took the boy’s limp hands.
“I know it’s scary and I can’t really expect you to believe me, but I’m fighting whatever they did to me. I might have more of those episodes, but I promise I’m going to do everything I can to beat this, okay?”
“We need to tell someone!” Neville exclaimed. Images of his parents burned bright in his mind. He clamped his hands down around Draco’s, suddenly desperate and terrified. “You need help!”
Harry and Percy had been woken by their talking and were watching from their beds. They said nothing, letting Draco handle it.
Draco soothed him, making a hushing noise, as he stood and wrapped Neville into a hug again. He was surprised at the strength of the boy’s reaction, but now wasn’t the time to question it. “I would, Neville, but there’s nothing anyone can do to help. It’s something I gotta do on my own. There’s even a chance they’d want to lock me up until I broke through it.” He pulled away to look into the boy’s wide brown eyes. “Neville, that would only make me worse. You understand, don’t you?”
Neville nodded. He totally got that. He loved his parents, mourned their loss every day, but visiting them in that place was very difficult. It was a horrible place to be. He held tight to Draco’s hands. Draco had been hurt - Someone had attacked his mind! - and Neville had run away. “Is there anything I can do?”
Draco’s blond hair fell from behind his left ear as he tilted his head with a cocky smile. “Keep being a good friend. That’s all I need.”
Neville smiled, lips wobbling, as tears filled his eyes. He flung his arms around Draco’s neck and gave him a hug.
Draco hugged him back, briefly stroking his hair before pulling away. “Get dressed. We all need a good breakfast.”
Neville wiped his face and went to get his clothes.
They went downstairs together. Oliver, Hermione, and Ron were waiting for them. Hermione and Ron became really suspicious as Oliver asked Draco if everything was okay. Draco assured him he was fine, but there were faint circles around his eyes. Neville and Hermione fell back to whisper heatedly together and Harry promised to explain things to Ron later. They ran into the twins halfway down. They were cackling, so they most likely had been pranking someone.
At breakfast there was an announcement. Each Head of House would be compiling a list to see which students would be staying over the Yule break. There would be a list posted on the common room bulletin board in each House and those staying should place their name on it.
“We’ll be staying,” Draco announced casually.
“We’ll ask,” Hermione offered, referring to her and Neville, but her tone of voice made it clear it might not be possible.
Ron frowned. Yule would be a perfect time for the thief to go after the stone. Draco and Harry couldn’t defend it by themselves! “I’ll tell Mum I’m staying, too.”
Percy paused, fork halfway to his mouth.
Fred and George shared looks.“Yule at Hogwarts,” Fred exclaimed as if it were some novel idea. “What a wonderful idea!” George concluded. He flung his arm around Ron’s shoulders with an enormous grin. “Why don’t we all stay?” the twins said together.
Percy nodded his agreement.
“Sounds fun,” Harry said casually, mask in place, and gave them all a thankful smile. He leaned supportively against Draco’s shoulder. The more help he could gather around the blond, the happier he’d be.
- love determination protective -
Chapter end.
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Freedom Bound in Chains