Fiction - 04 - Never A Rescuer - Harry Potter
Title: Never A Rescuer
Fandom: Harry Potter
Category: Dark Fiction
Series: Battlefields
Note: I can't get anybody else to beta this is it. Thanks to Lola for a beta. I'm not totally happy with it, but here it is. Word is all messed up so it may not be all Brit. 1,400 words. Previous parts are Here.
Feedback: Yes please that would be very nice. I'd like to hear what you think.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Bless her.
Summary: It could be worse. He could be dead.
It had been days since his last meal. He wasn't really sure how many, but nobody had come to feed him since Hermione Granger had last visited. The room had remained dark the whole time. Draco sat huddled in a corner, shivering. His stomach growled in protest, and he clutched at it desperately. He'd already screamed himself hoarse. He'd already begged at thin air. He'd already done so many things he never thought he'd do.
Granger's last words had been that the war was over. Draco had had plenty of time to contemplate what that meant. He'd hoped against hope that it would mean a better life for him. He'd half convinced himself that his situation was all Potter's doing. Draco had imagined all kinds of reasons why Potter would have him locked up and treated as less than an animal. Hatred for the Malfoy name had been on the top of the list, most specifically hatred for Draco. They'd never got along. From the start it had been a passionate hatred on both their parts.
Draco lifted his trembling hand to his mouth and started to gnaw on his fingernail. He'd been chewing them for a while now. There was barely anything left to chew as he'd already bit them down to the skin. It didn't help to stave the hunger, but it gave him something to do. It gave him purpose.
Overcome with exhaustion, he lay down, and closed his eyes, curling into a ball. He'd resigned himself to the fact that most likely he would die here, forgotten. His throat closed up on that thought as he drifted off to sleep, fully expecting that he'd never awaken.
He did wake up.
The sound of muffled voices woke him. The first thing he noticed was that he was no longer lying on a hard floor. The second thing he noticed was that he was not cold.
Draco opened his eyes to find his surrounding had changed considerably since the last time he'd been awake. He was in a room, lying on a warm bed and he was covered with soft bed sheets. He shifted and slowly rolled over onto his back. He also noted that he was still in his tatty prison garments. Not only did the room have a window with a slightly open dark blue curtain, but it had a door and the door was ajar. There was light streaming in through the window. It had to be sunlight. There was nothing else it could have been.
Draco's heart started to pound in his chest. Could he actually be out of that horrible place? Was this real or just an illusion? Had he finally gone completely mad?
"This isn't up for debate," he clearly heard just outside the door, followed by a loud banging noise that made Draco jump. The door of the room slowly creaked open and Draco caught a glimpse of Potter standing with his arms in the air talking to somebody that Draco could not see.
"You're the only one who can protect him," Draco heard Granger's voice reply. Potter vanished from view to be replaced by a very bedraggled Granger. Draco watched as the person who had last shown him a bit of kindness closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation, crossing her arms. She looked to be at the end of her rope. Considering she was dealing with Potter, Draco didn't find this at all hard to believe.
"I can't even believe it was you," Potter replied. "He's done something to you, Hermione."
"The war is over, Harry. There was no reason..." Granger's eyes had drifted and she stopped speaking when her gaze locked with Draco's. Draco swallowed hard and hunched down in the bed, dismayed at the fear that coursed through him. There was a clatter and then Granger was entering the room, holding a tray of food. She set it down on a low table at the foot of the bed and picked up a glass.
Potter stood, leaning on the doorjamb, arms crossed. He glared when Draco glanced his way. There was nothing but contempt in his eyes. Draco lowered his gaze and concentrated on Granger instead. There was obviously something crucial going on here that Draco needed to uncover.
"We're not finished talking about this," Potter said crossly. Granger ignored Potter and handed the glass of pumpkin juice to Draco.
"Here, drink this," she said softly. Draco accepted the glass without a word. "Sip it," she added as Draco brought the glass to his lips. He did as instructed. Granger picked up a plate of sandwiches and set it down on the bed beside Draco. She sat down on the bed far enough away to give Draco room to maneuver. His hands were shaking and he tried desperately to steady them.
Granger took the now empty glass from Draco and turned to set it back down on the tray. He hesitantly reached for a sandwich, making a point of ignoring the derisive snort that came from Potter. He did however catch Granger's cutting glare when she looked in Potter's direction.
Granger turned away from Potter and watched Draco. Unable to control himself, Draco shoved the food in his mouth, hungrily wolfing it down. He was so starved at that moment and he cared not one shred for dignity. He kept his eyes lowered and his shoulders hunched. He tried to tell himself to slow down, that there was time to eat and that he wasn't in that place any longer.
Draco almost screamed when granger reached out to touch his arm.
"It's alright, Malfoy," she said gently. He looked up at her, mortification burning across his cheeks. "You're safe. Nobody is going to take your food from you before you've eaten it."
Draco fought the sting of tears. It was just more humiliation heaped on top of everything that had happened to him since that day on the battlefield. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed. He only knew that it felt like he'd lived several lifetimes.
He swiped at his eyes with his bare arm, desperately choking back the anguish he felt. His loss of dignity was the last thing on his mind. His whole body was shaking now and he broke down into sobs, hiding his face in his arms.
After a while, the tears finally subsided and Draco could lift his head again. He looked up at Granger through his dirty strands of hair.
"Thank you," Draco whispered. His voice was hoarse from disuse and his throat hurt from crying. Granger reached out with her hand and set it on top of Draco's own trembling hand. She gripped him gently.
"There's a bathroom right past that door." She pointed to their left, though Draco didn't bother to look up. "You can bathe and change." at these words she looked up in the direction of the doorway. Draco didn't look up. He didn't want to see the look in Potter's eyes. "I'm sure Harry has something that will fit you." She stood and released her grip on Draco's hand.
Draco watched as Granger and Potter left the room. They were already arguing before the door had closed.
Draco had stuffed two more of the sandwiches into his mouth before the door opened again. He looked up expectantly, and then looked away when Potter entered the room and closed the door behind him. The last bit of bread and ham caught in his throat and Draco gagged, smacking himself on the chest to dislodge it. He swallowed hard and flinched when Potter crossed the room to pick up the tray.
"Where... where am I?" Draco managed to say. His voice sounded pathetic and he tried to ignore the glare Potter shot his way.
"You're in my home," Potter barked with bitterness.
Draco blanched at the reply. That would have been his last guess. Actually, it wouldn't have been a guess at all. "Why...?"
"Because Hermione sprang you from Azkaban," Potter scowled at him. The sour expression on his face made him look ugly.
Potter set the tray back down.
"I..."
Potter was suddenly in Draco's face, eye flashing angrily. "Shut up! Just shut up!" he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth, hitting Draco on the cheek. Draco froze in place somehow more terrified than he'd ever felt in his short life. "You don't get to talk. You don't get to move. Understand me?" Potter lowered his voice. His tone had grown dangerous. The scar on his forehead stood out a livid red.
Draco blinked owlishly and swallowed hard, barely able to nod. Then Potter seemed to deflate and he fell back, sitting down on the bed. He yanked off his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion in every movement.
Draco pulled his legs up tight to his body and sat silently. He'd gone to sleep ready for death and woken up in this mad world.
tbc
Fandom: Harry Potter
Category: Dark Fiction
Series: Battlefields
Note: I can't get anybody else to beta this is it. Thanks to Lola for a beta. I'm not totally happy with it, but here it is. Word is all messed up so it may not be all Brit. 1,400 words. Previous parts are Here.
Feedback: Yes please that would be very nice. I'd like to hear what you think.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Bless her.
Summary: It could be worse. He could be dead.
It had been days since his last meal. He wasn't really sure how many, but nobody had come to feed him since Hermione Granger had last visited. The room had remained dark the whole time. Draco sat huddled in a corner, shivering. His stomach growled in protest, and he clutched at it desperately. He'd already screamed himself hoarse. He'd already begged at thin air. He'd already done so many things he never thought he'd do.
Granger's last words had been that the war was over. Draco had had plenty of time to contemplate what that meant. He'd hoped against hope that it would mean a better life for him. He'd half convinced himself that his situation was all Potter's doing. Draco had imagined all kinds of reasons why Potter would have him locked up and treated as less than an animal. Hatred for the Malfoy name had been on the top of the list, most specifically hatred for Draco. They'd never got along. From the start it had been a passionate hatred on both their parts.
Draco lifted his trembling hand to his mouth and started to gnaw on his fingernail. He'd been chewing them for a while now. There was barely anything left to chew as he'd already bit them down to the skin. It didn't help to stave the hunger, but it gave him something to do. It gave him purpose.
Overcome with exhaustion, he lay down, and closed his eyes, curling into a ball. He'd resigned himself to the fact that most likely he would die here, forgotten. His throat closed up on that thought as he drifted off to sleep, fully expecting that he'd never awaken.
He did wake up.
The sound of muffled voices woke him. The first thing he noticed was that he was no longer lying on a hard floor. The second thing he noticed was that he was not cold.
Draco opened his eyes to find his surrounding had changed considerably since the last time he'd been awake. He was in a room, lying on a warm bed and he was covered with soft bed sheets. He shifted and slowly rolled over onto his back. He also noted that he was still in his tatty prison garments. Not only did the room have a window with a slightly open dark blue curtain, but it had a door and the door was ajar. There was light streaming in through the window. It had to be sunlight. There was nothing else it could have been.
Draco's heart started to pound in his chest. Could he actually be out of that horrible place? Was this real or just an illusion? Had he finally gone completely mad?
"This isn't up for debate," he clearly heard just outside the door, followed by a loud banging noise that made Draco jump. The door of the room slowly creaked open and Draco caught a glimpse of Potter standing with his arms in the air talking to somebody that Draco could not see.
"You're the only one who can protect him," Draco heard Granger's voice reply. Potter vanished from view to be replaced by a very bedraggled Granger. Draco watched as the person who had last shown him a bit of kindness closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation, crossing her arms. She looked to be at the end of her rope. Considering she was dealing with Potter, Draco didn't find this at all hard to believe.
"I can't even believe it was you," Potter replied. "He's done something to you, Hermione."
"The war is over, Harry. There was no reason..." Granger's eyes had drifted and she stopped speaking when her gaze locked with Draco's. Draco swallowed hard and hunched down in the bed, dismayed at the fear that coursed through him. There was a clatter and then Granger was entering the room, holding a tray of food. She set it down on a low table at the foot of the bed and picked up a glass.
Potter stood, leaning on the doorjamb, arms crossed. He glared when Draco glanced his way. There was nothing but contempt in his eyes. Draco lowered his gaze and concentrated on Granger instead. There was obviously something crucial going on here that Draco needed to uncover.
"We're not finished talking about this," Potter said crossly. Granger ignored Potter and handed the glass of pumpkin juice to Draco.
"Here, drink this," she said softly. Draco accepted the glass without a word. "Sip it," she added as Draco brought the glass to his lips. He did as instructed. Granger picked up a plate of sandwiches and set it down on the bed beside Draco. She sat down on the bed far enough away to give Draco room to maneuver. His hands were shaking and he tried desperately to steady them.
Granger took the now empty glass from Draco and turned to set it back down on the tray. He hesitantly reached for a sandwich, making a point of ignoring the derisive snort that came from Potter. He did however catch Granger's cutting glare when she looked in Potter's direction.
Granger turned away from Potter and watched Draco. Unable to control himself, Draco shoved the food in his mouth, hungrily wolfing it down. He was so starved at that moment and he cared not one shred for dignity. He kept his eyes lowered and his shoulders hunched. He tried to tell himself to slow down, that there was time to eat and that he wasn't in that place any longer.
Draco almost screamed when granger reached out to touch his arm.
"It's alright, Malfoy," she said gently. He looked up at her, mortification burning across his cheeks. "You're safe. Nobody is going to take your food from you before you've eaten it."
Draco fought the sting of tears. It was just more humiliation heaped on top of everything that had happened to him since that day on the battlefield. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed. He only knew that it felt like he'd lived several lifetimes.
He swiped at his eyes with his bare arm, desperately choking back the anguish he felt. His loss of dignity was the last thing on his mind. His whole body was shaking now and he broke down into sobs, hiding his face in his arms.
After a while, the tears finally subsided and Draco could lift his head again. He looked up at Granger through his dirty strands of hair.
"Thank you," Draco whispered. His voice was hoarse from disuse and his throat hurt from crying. Granger reached out with her hand and set it on top of Draco's own trembling hand. She gripped him gently.
"There's a bathroom right past that door." She pointed to their left, though Draco didn't bother to look up. "You can bathe and change." at these words she looked up in the direction of the doorway. Draco didn't look up. He didn't want to see the look in Potter's eyes. "I'm sure Harry has something that will fit you." She stood and released her grip on Draco's hand.
Draco watched as Granger and Potter left the room. They were already arguing before the door had closed.
Draco had stuffed two more of the sandwiches into his mouth before the door opened again. He looked up expectantly, and then looked away when Potter entered the room and closed the door behind him. The last bit of bread and ham caught in his throat and Draco gagged, smacking himself on the chest to dislodge it. He swallowed hard and flinched when Potter crossed the room to pick up the tray.
"Where... where am I?" Draco managed to say. His voice sounded pathetic and he tried to ignore the glare Potter shot his way.
"You're in my home," Potter barked with bitterness.
Draco blanched at the reply. That would have been his last guess. Actually, it wouldn't have been a guess at all. "Why...?"
"Because Hermione sprang you from Azkaban," Potter scowled at him. The sour expression on his face made him look ugly.
Potter set the tray back down.
"I..."
Potter was suddenly in Draco's face, eye flashing angrily. "Shut up! Just shut up!" he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth, hitting Draco on the cheek. Draco froze in place somehow more terrified than he'd ever felt in his short life. "You don't get to talk. You don't get to move. Understand me?" Potter lowered his voice. His tone had grown dangerous. The scar on his forehead stood out a livid red.
Draco blinked owlishly and swallowed hard, barely able to nod. Then Potter seemed to deflate and he fell back, sitting down on the bed. He yanked off his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion in every movement.
Draco pulled his legs up tight to his body and sat silently. He'd gone to sleep ready for death and woken up in this mad world.
tbc