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Forgive Those Who Trespass	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 20650 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Thanks again for all the reviews!

Chapter Nine�Rescuing the Rescuer

�� Harry
forced himself to relax as the Malfoys gathered around him with the knives. He
thought he recognized them, or at least their general shape; they were made for
cutting and tearing flesh, not with surgical neatness but with pain and the
tendency to leave scars. If he tensed up when they cut him, as his Auror
instructors had taught him during the instructive sessions on the typical
tactics of Dark wizards against captured Aurors, then he was likely to suffer
twice the pain, which would be detrimental to any effort at escape.

�� His hand
clenched on his wand, hidden under the fall of his robe sleeve. With as firmly
as the two Malfoys behind his chair held him, though, he knew he wouldn�t be
able to move it in any pattern, even though he could perform some spells
nonverbally.

�� The first
Malfoy, whom Harry thought might be the one he�d cursed, held up a knife in
front of his eyes. Then he turned and held it up in front of Draco�s.

�� Don�t
hurt him,� Harry snarled, surging upright hard enough to make his wooden foot
clunk against the bottom of the chair. For a moment, he dared to hope he could
wrestle free, but the Malfoys just readjusted their grip and held him until the
pressure made his tendons creak.

�� The first
Malfoy didn�t hurt Draco. He just held up the knife until he seemed satisfied
that Draco comprehended it and what its purpose was, and then turned and cut
down Harry�s chest with a single smooth movement.

�� Harry
sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. The cut stung, and a moment later he
winced as the pain slid deeper and deeper into his torso. He wouldn�t put it
past the Malfoys, or the Unspeakables, who were ultimately responsible for
this, to have enchanted the knives with pain-causing curses. Or perhaps it was
just the barbs, which had traveled too fast to stick in his skin, that hurt so
much.

�� He heard a
brief struggle from the other side of the room, and opened pain-hazy eyes to
see Draco pulling against the hands that held him, his face frantic.

�� Harry tried
to smile reassuringly, but he barely had a chance before the knife came back
again, and cut another wound parallel to the first one. A horrible vision of
himself so carved that he simply fell apart like a piece of meat came to Harry.
He swallowed and then yelped as the knife made another cut, this one on his
forehead, perilously close to his eyes. A flap of skin hung down into his line
of sight, and he grimaced. Head wounds were as likely to blind him with blood
as to knock him unconscious.

�� Draco
struggled again. Harry peered at him instead of watching the knife�he didn�t
think he was that brave�and saw Draco�s face twisted, his eyes narrowed
in that calculating look again.

�� Trying
to figure out why they�re doing this?

�� It was a
good question, and one that Harry would have liked to know the answer to
himself. He wrapped his hands together in the folds of cloth around his waist
and breathed shallowly as the fourth cut opened a slice along his arm. That one
bled so freely he thought it must have hit a vein directly.

�� The Malfoys
kept cutting him. Harry locked down as much of his mind as possible, and
endured. He�d gone through concentrated pain like this before, when Dudley and
his friends pursued him at school�that had been compounded by the laughter of
other kids as they watched�or when Voldemort used his Cruciatus on him in the
graveyard. In those circumstances, he�d had to be up and ready to move as soon
as possible, no matter the pain he was in. The same thing would probably happen
this time.

�� There came
an impressive crash.

�� Harry
blinked his eyes open. Draco had dragged a leg free from his captors� hold and
lashed out to catch a poker that stood near the fireplace. It had fallen over,
and all the Malfoys were turned around and blinking stupidity at him. Harry
tensed. Was it now? Should he move?

�� But he
still couldn�t find the laxness in the hands holding him that he would need.

�� Draco
lifted his chin and splayed his own shortened fingers, pointing at his chest.
Then he nodded emphatically when the Malfoys made little inquiring sounds in
their throats, and went on nodding until the Malfoy holding the knife on Harry
blinked and backed off.

�� Harry shook
his head to clear blood from his eyes and watched closely as the Malfoys
crowded around Draco. They were touching him with the same wonder they had
shown in the room with the Pensieve, their eyes huge and glistening.

�� What did
you do?� Harry croaked.

�� Draco
reached for the communication sphere, which the Malfoys let him have; they
seemed oddly solicitous of him, though they still held him so he couldn�t rise
from the chair. Me, he tapped on the facets. Maze. Free will.

�� Yes, I know
that��

�� Draco shot
him an irritated glance, like someone interrupted in the midst of a speech, and
went back to tapping out his message. Torture you. Because of me. Maze. Free
will.

�� Harry
understood then. The Malfoys had tortured Harry until Draco agreed to become
the sacrifice for the maze of his own free will. It seemed they wanted to
complete the work the Unspeakables had begun.

�� What part
of �you�re weak and unable to run very far on your own� did you not
understand?� Harry raged at him.

�� Draco
quickly selected Small and simple-minded fool from his list of sarcastic
phrases, and Harry swallowed. Yes, all right. So Draco could easily have
pretended compliance to fool the Malfoys.

�� And��

�� You,
wand, Draco chose. The Malfoys chuckled as if he had made a good joke.
Harry wondered if they could understand, but he doubted they would still be
stroking Draco�s hair and shoulders admiringly if they could.

�� All
right,� Harry whispered.

�� Draco
glanced up at the Malfoys and adopted a hopelessly innocent expression of
suffering martyrdom that Harry had to admit had at least improved since
Hogwarts, when he had tried to convince everyone that Buckbeak had almost taken
off his arm. The copies holding him released him. He rose carefully to his
feet, then beckoned imperiously to the Malfoys holding Harry. Their hands
sprang away from Harry like suddenly severed shackles.

�� Harry was
ready.

�� He rose and
whirled on the Malfoys, pointing straight at the knives first. The Malfoys were
dangerous in their sheer numbers as well as their immortality, but he would be
humbled before Draco before he�d leave weapons in their hands. Calling on his
memories of Transfiguration class, he transformed the knives into feathers.

�� The Malfoy
who had cut him stared at his hand for a helpless moment, and Harry seized the
chance to do something that Auror Gillyflower had always told him specifically
not to do. He Transfigured the Malfoy into a chicken, who flapped his wings and
stretched his neck with a long crow as though the sun was rising in front of
him.

�� He made a
handsome rooster, Harry thought dazedly. Of course, a Malfoy, even a copied
one, would expect no less.

�� The others
began to rush at him then, one of them seizing the poker from the fireplace,
another taking up a heavy glass paperweight from one of the tables in the
background, the rest relying on their hands. Harry dropped out of the way, into
a crouch in front of the chair, which made him wince as his wounds tore open
but also caused the one holding the poker to bash in the head of the one with
the paperweight. The rest of the Malfoys stared, seeming torn between laughter
and outrage, and Harry Transfigured the two armed ones into chickens, too.

�� That left
seven Malfoys, who promptly reoriented on Harry, and who only gave him a
moment�s respite by getting in each other�s way.

�� Harry dived
under the table behind the chairs, ramming his leg on its leg. His motion
dashed half the birdcages off the table, which made some doors fly open and
added canaries and parakeets to the general chaos of the room. A few of the
Malfoys must have stopped, maybe confounded by the mess or attempting to
recapture the birds, because Harry heard the footsteps pursuing him lessen.

�� A pair of
powerful hands grabbed him and attempted to drag him back into the open.

�� Harry
whirled around. Sure enough, a single Malfoy was crouched behind him, frowning
fiercely, and he yanked on Harry�s leg again, which made yet more of the wounds
tear open and rippled blood into Harry�s eyes.

�� Perhaps
that was the reason why his Transfiguration wasn�t so successful this time. It
produced a rather large chicken with flesh-colored plumes. But it didn�t have
hands or the size to hurt him, and that was all Harry cared about. Besides, the
main problem with Transfiguring humans into animals�the concern that it might
hurt them unless done by an expert�hardly applied here. Even if Harry hurt the
Malfoys in the Transfiguration, they wouldn�t die.

�� He
scrambled up onto the table and then leaped high, trying not to notice the pain
that assaulted him any more than he would notice hits from the Bludgers in
Quidditch. His fingers locked on the edge of a shelf, and he hauled himself
higher, his legs swinging. Of course, someone else seized his leg, and this
time the tug precipitated him right down on top of a struggling body, which
simultaneously tried to strangle him and break his wand.

�� Harry,
acting on sheer instinct, yelled, �Magna!�, the same spell he had used
against the shadow-wolf, and flicked the wand in the limited motion that was
all he needed.

�� He shut his
eyes as fierce light stormed the room, and the Malfoys screamed. The one under
him stopped trying to kill him and put his hands over his eyes. Another swift
Transfiguration, and the chicken strutted away and Harry came up, squinting
fiercely, scanning for his enemies.

�� Four of the
Malfoys were staggering in circles, mewing and burping pitifully. The last one
had an arm around Draco�s throat and was staring in Harry�s direction with a
deeply satisfied expression on his face, even given his shut eyes.

�� Harry
growled in the back of his throat and acted without thinking. �Imperio!�
he shouted.

�� Nothing
happened. Harry bitterly regretted his stupidity a moment later; the things
were mindless, so of course an Unforgivable Curse to control the mind wouldn�t
work on them. And neither would the Killing Curse, since they were immortal of
body.

�� But he had
seen they weren�t immune to magic. And the light spell proved they were not
immune to pain.

�� The Malfoy
began to strangle Draco.

�� A surge of
hatred, fury, and desire to make the thing stop welled up in Harry and
collided with other emotions�the pain from his wounds, the worry over his
friends, and his utter frustration with the Unspeakables for creating the maze
in the first place. Harry aimed his wand at the Malfoy, carefully over Draco�s
head, and spoke the word with enjoyment he wouldn�t bother to deny to himself.
�Crucio.�

�� The Malfoy
went straight into convulsions, screaming like a stepped-on cat, and his arms
fell free of Draco. Draco had to catch himself with one hand on the chair, but
at least he was agile enough to do that, and smart enough to make straight for
the sound of Harry�s voice, even if he didn�t dare open his eyes yet.

�� Harry
quick-stepped around the overturned table and birdcages to come up to him, and
looped an arm around his waist when Draco reached him. Draco leaned on his
shoulder and pressed his wrist hard with one hand. Harry nodded, though he knew
Draco couldn�t see the gesture, and Transfigured two more of the Malfoys
running in circles. Then he lifted the Cruciatus Curse on the other Malfoy, but
he was a rooster so quickly that it turned out not to matter.

�� That left
two Malfoys, both of whom could see now in the quickly dimming room. They faced
Harry with snarls on their faces. Their eyes were so narrow that Harry wondered
how he could have thought them innocent. He controlled the temptation to hurt
them, just because he knew they would have hurt Draco if they had the chance.
They were stumbling towards him, perhaps too angry to recognize the danger his
wand was.

�� Flick,
and one was a chicken. The other wobbled to a stop and stared, then began
backing away from Harry with his hands in the air.

�� To Harry,
that was irrelevant. He�d still participated in this, and for all Harry knew,
if he left one in human shape, he would chase them through the maze and try
again. He Transfigured that one with positive glee.

�� Then he
slumped over, breathing heavily, the adrenaline and the rage leaving him in one
comprehensive rush. He spent a moment wondering dismally what Hermione would
think of him, using the Unforgivable Curses again, and this time without the
context of war to excuse and support them.

�� Should he
feel wretched? Should he think less of himself? There were other spells that
probably would have worked.

�� Except he
hadn�t been able to think of them. Maybe Hermione would say that the most
worrying thing wasn�t his use of the Unforgivables, but that he had turned to
them so instinctively.

�� An elbow
nudged him in the ribs. Harry looked up, blinking. Draco was reaching for his
chest.

�� It�s all
right,� Harry told him. �It�ll scar, but it�s not as bad as it looks.�

�� Draco gave
him a patiently disbelieving glance, and then began to mouth something. Harry
squinted, and shook his head again when blood ran into his eyes. Draco visibly
clucked his tongue, though with no sound, of course, and repeated the motion
with his lips, until Harry finally understood he was mouthing the incantation
for a comprehensive healing charm.

�� Uh, yeah,�
he said, blinking as he held the wand towards his torso. �I reckon I�d have got
to that sooner or later.�

�� Draco
rolled his eyes.

�� Did they
hurt you?� Harry added, when the worst of the cuts on his chest were taken care
of and the skin on his forehead had been sealed back into place. There was
still the cut on his arm, but he�d have to move his wand to his left hand in
order to heal that one.

�� Draco
shrugged, then pulled back his ragged robes to show a few bruises on his
shoulders. Bruises were the worst of it, Harry surmised.

�� Still, I
can heal that.�

�� Draco
shrugged again, as if to say he wouldn�t object, and held still while Harry
touched the tip of the wand to his bruises and made them vanish. Then Harry
shifted his wand to his left hand and promptly commenced struggling with the
spell. His weaker hand wasn�t as good with the wand movements, and besides,
they were all backwards from normal. He concentrated fiercely on healing the
cut on his arm, and finally a cool wash closed over the wound and he felt the
skin knit�awkwardly, jaggedly�back together. He sighed with relief and worked
his limbs one by one, then bent and touched his toes, estimating how much
mobility he still had and whether he needed another healing spell. No, he
thought. The Cognosco was still working on him, which was probably why he
had understood Draco�s plan in the first place and been able to see so well
under the influence of Magna.

�� A chicken
stalked towards him. Harry kicked it idly away. It ruffled its feathers and
went.

�� Now.�
Harry glanced dubiously at the shelves surrounding the room. �Is there anything
useful here?� He had no idea what, if anything, Draco remembered from these
books. There could be something useful simply because this appeared to have
been one of the Unspeakables� centers of research. On the other hand, if Draco
remembered nothing, digging through the archive until they hit something could
waste valuable time. Harry swallowed some more regret that Hermione wasn�t with
him.

�� He turned
back to see Draco shrugging. Harry nodded resignedly. �How much time do you
think we should spend looking?�

�� Draco
appeared to consider, then tapped the communication sphere. A day.

�� A resting
and eating period, then?� Harry grinned. �Well, that�s fine.� He felt himself
becoming impatient with restlessness already�he would rather be moving and
fighting�but he had to acknowledge that walking away in this case was rather
like ignoring a room full of weapons because you didn�t know exactly what
enemies you would be facing.

�� He bent
down to retrieve their satchel. �By the way,� he added, now that he was no
longer looking at Draco and thought he was less likely to sound pathetic when
he said it, �thank you for saving my life.�

�� A warm hand
clasped his shoulder. Harry thought it would squeeze and move away. It didn�t.
It stayed right where it was, and Harry knew Draco was waiting for Harry to
rise and face him. It was another forcing of intimate moments, just as when
they�d shared the blankets together and the hug after they escaped the room of
the giant bone-creatures.

�� Harry stood
up slowly, not trying to dislodge the hand. Draco�s gaze caught him again.
Harry wished, sulkily and privately, that Draco had his voice then, and not to
make communication easier. Everything seemed so much more profound when
expressed by a person who couldn�t talk. If Draco had had a voice to snipe and
snap, or even just to say that Harry�s thanks weren�t particularly welcomed,
then Harry would have known how to react.

�� Draco gave
a small, mysterious smile a moment later, as if he had overheard Harry�s
thoughts and were just as glad he couldn�t talk. Then he turned to the chairs
and gestured Harry to the nearest one. Harry raised an eyebrow at him. �I�m
perfectly healed, I assure you. I wouldn�t hide wounds.� He didn�t add that he
would have liked to, and probably would have if Draco hadn�t seen them made and
if Draco didn�t have to be able to trust him to be in good physical condition.

�� Draco
rolled his eyes at him again and folded his hands under his cheek, closing his
eyes. He wanted Harry to sleep.

�� Harry shook
his head, remembering his earlier vow that Draco wouldn�t get to guard his
sleep until Harry was more confident in him. �No, thanks. I cast the Awareness
Charm on myself earlier. I doubt I�ll sleep for another ten or so hours at
least.�

�� Idiot
Gryffindor, Draco settled for saying, and flopped down on the chairs
himself to resume his interrupted nap. At least he didn�t insist that Harry
join him this time. Harry spent some time feeling grateful for that, then
pulled open the satchel and meditatively prepared himself some kippers.

�� Why had the
Malfoys been so insistent about Draco assuming his place as the foundation of
the maze? After all, his transformation hadn�t worked the first time, so why
had they assumed it would work the second time?

�� Then it was
Harry�s turn to roll his eyes. It was a bit much to think of the Malfoys as assuming
anything. They�d been mindless. They�d probably become fixated on the notion of
the maze, especially if they really had been created to be Draco�s replacements
at first. When Draco pretended to be willing, they accepted their good fortune
without looking further.

�� But why had
the Unspeakables wanted to sacrifice Draco? Was it the mere fact of his
betrayal, because he was there and convenient? Was it a matter of vengeance for
that betrayal? Was there some other quality about him that had made him an
ideal candidate for the sacrifice?

�� Harry had
no idea.

�� And, come
to think of it, if Draco�s knowledge of the making and purpose of the maze had
come from his regained memories, why had he waited until they were in this room
to share it with Harry? Why not the moment he got the memories back, when he
had to be full of them and he had to know that Harry would be a willing and
sympathetic audience?

�� Harry sighed
and leaned against the wall between the bookshelves, idly watching a freed
canary pecking at the spines of the books in search of something to eat. His
own research had to be in figuring out the motives for Draco�s action and
judging them, it seemed. How much should his lack of understanding damage the
trust he had built up in Draco?

�� For right
now, he decided at last, a cautious posture was still best. He wouldn�t accuse
Draco; he also wouldn�t trust him to guard Harry�s sleep alone. Judicious use
of Cognosco and regular meals should keep him from having to sleep for
quite some time. Hopefully, by the time he collapsed, he would have found
information that would enable him to make some final choice about Draco.

�� As to how
he would free Draco from the maze�

�� Harry
munched the kippers thoughtfully. There was one particular and permanent
solution he had immediately thought of. He was a little surprised Draco hadn�t
thought of it, too. But maybe constantly dwelling in the middle of his
situation, and hearing from the Unspeakables that there was no way out, had
deadened his ability to look beyond it.

�� Harry just
didn�t know if he wanted to try that solution, yet. He would need more
information, more certainty that it would actually destroy the Unspeakables� plans
instead of accomplishing what they had wished for all along.

�� Draco�s
arms soon appeared over the back of his chair, thrashing in the midst of a
nightmare. Harry hurried over to him and embraced him around the shoulders,
calming him down. This time, Draco simply let his head roll to the side and
rest against Harry�s instead of waking up.

�� Harry
closed his eyes. Suspending judgment for the moment and giving Draco what he
needed, while being wary of what he might become or learn in the future, was
painful and exhausting.

�� Maybe
I�m more right than when I did nothing but judge him, though. I can hope.

*

�� Christabell:
Thanks! I�ve wanted to do a horror story for a while, and I�d hate to think I
was simply repeating all the stories I�ve already done.

�� SoftObsidian74:
Thanks! As you can see, Harry is determined not to have any sleep.

�� Beautifullove348:
Thank you! Harry does have an idea, but it may not work.

�� Mangacat: Thanks!
The Unspeakables did want the copies as test subjects; according to Draco in
the last chapter, they were originally going to sacrifice them for the maze, but
learned too late that the suffering subject had to have a mind.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� WeasleyWench:
The Unspeakables didn�t specifically set out to snare Harry; they imagined the
maze would work and they�d get their immortality. They certainly didn�t want
Harry to have it.

�� Draco
thinks there is no way to reverse what was done to him. Harry thinks there
might be one.

�� Lilith: The
maze simply failed, and in its failure it did something to all the people in
the maze, Unspeakables as well as test subjects. They had no time to come back
and try again.
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Forgive Those Who Trespass

Chapter Nine�Rescuing the Rescuer