FIC: Give My Heart (1/5)
Title: Give My Heart
Author: gypsyflame
Pairings: Snape/Draco; Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 42,680
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, et al. This was created for fun, not for profit.
Warnings: Some violence; attempted rape (not in main pairings)
Summary: Voldemort gives Draco a mission to seduce Harry into an ambush - not knowing that Draco is an Order spy. When Draco and Harry try to turn Voldemort's plan against him, Draco realizes that his relationship with Severus may not survive the challenge.
A/N: Written for the 2010 Draco Big Bang. Takes place in an AU two years after HBP, in which Voldemort is still alive and the war is still raging. A million thanks to the_flic, who offered invaluable suggestions for improvement and moral support when I started referring to this fic as the Never-Ending Story of Death. Title comes from the song "Jillian" by Within Temptation.
“Do you know what he wants?”
Severus shook his head, lips set in a thin line. Draco sighed. Spontaneous Death Eater meetings were rarely a good thing.
They left Draco’s suite of rooms at the Manor and headed for the drawing room, Draco falling into step by Severus’ side - where he had been for the past two years. They had become lovers long before Draco had learned of Severus’ real allegiance, and by the time Severus had told him the truth, Draco would have switched sides even if he hadn’t already hated the Dark Lord with every bone in his body.
As an Order spy, Draco walked a fine line in presenting himself to the Dark Lord as just useless enough not to send on any dangerous missions but still useful enough to keep around; he mostly assisted Severus’ potion-making. Because the other Death Eaters didn’t see Draco as a threat, they let their guards down around him in a way they never would have around Severus. To them, he was just Snape’s little toyboy, someone weak who exchanged sex for protection. Draco and Severus did everything they could to encourage that assumption. It amused the Dark Lord, and it kept the Death Eaters from harassing Draco and his parents.
Their entrance to the drawing room was perfectly timed - neither the first nor the last to arrive. Severus took his seat at the Dark Lord’s right hand, and Draco sat next to him. On Draco’s other side, his father sat staring vacantly into space. Lucius seemed to spend much of his time that way lately, even though he was perfectly healthy; his fall from grace had simply made him lost and hopeless without the kindness of making him mad as well. Next to Lucius, Narcissa gave Draco a small, tight smile before returning her eyes to the table.
The Dark Lord remained silent as the rest of the Death Eaters filed in. He seemed to be in a pleasant mood, which could be good for Draco or very, very bad. The strain of the situation was unbearable. Draco had never been skilled at dealing with stress, and his muscles were so tense that they ached. He didn’t even realize he was bouncing his knee until Severus put a hand on it to stop him.
Once the room was full and all eyes were on him, the Dark Lord spoke. “I have gathered you here tonight, my most faithful, because the end of this war is now in sight. Soon, Harry Potter will die, and the rest of his Order will crumble to dust without him.”
Draco rolled his eyes internally. This had to be the eighth or ninth time the Dark Lord had made that very announcement in two years.
“Do you have a plan, my Lord?” Bellatrix asked eagerly.
“I do. I have recently come into possession of intelligence which makes clear that we have overlooked one of Potter’s serious weaknesses.”
The Dark Lord paused for dramatic effect - one of his most annoying habits - and Draco took the opportunity to glance over at Severus to see if he knew what was going on. Severus shook his head minutely.
“Potter’s Occlumency has vastly improved over the past few years,” the Dark Lord continued, “but there are still occasions when he lets his guard down and I am able to get a glimpse of his dreams.” He turned suddenly to Draco. “Mr. Malfoy.”
“My Lord?” Draco responded, startled. The Dark Lord rarely addressed him directly anymore.
Softly, the Dark Lord said, “It would seem our wholesome hero has a taste for blonds.”
Draco blinked, unsure where this was going but positive he wasn’t going to like it.
“Do you believe yourself worthy of an assignment of true importance? The success of my plan would hinge entirely on your…skills, such as they are.”
“I would be honoured to serve you in any way you wish, my Lord.”
“I see. And if I wish for you to seduce Harry Potter?”
A shocked silence descended over the table before several Death Eaters started snickering. Even Lucius was shaken out of his daze. The Dark Lord ignored them all, not moving his eyes from Draco’s face.
Draco forced himself not to look at Severus, even though he desperately wanted to. “I…I’m not sure I understand, my Lord.”
“It’s quite simple, really,” the Dark Lord said. “Severus has the Order’s trust. He will take you to their headquarters. You will claim that I killed your parents for some indiscretion and that you fled in fear for your own safety, and you will beg Potter for asylum. Severus, am I correct in assuming that Potter would be unable to turn away even an enemy in need?”
Severus’ voice was as inflectionless as if they were speaking of the weather. “Yes, my Lord. Potter’s soft heart has been his undoing time and again.”
“Just so.” The Dark Lord shifted his attention back to Draco. “Once ensconced in Grimmauld Place, you will do whatever is necessary to win Potter’s affections. He is the type of man who cannot easily separate sex and love. If you give him your body, he will give you his heart.”
Under the table, Draco dug his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from reacting. If Severus hadn’t spent the past two years intensively training him in Occlumency…
“It should not take you long to extract a promise of devotion and protection. Once you have done so, Severus will kidnap you.” The Dark Lord settled back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. “Judging by his past, Potter will come after you with very little forethought and little to no backup, and he will be ill-prepared for the ambush that awaits.”
There were murmurs of appreciation all around the table. “A most excellent plan, my Lord,” Yaxley said. “Assuming, of course, that Malfoy is up to it.”
Draco glared at him. “I think I can handle Potter,” he snapped. “But your concern is noted.”
Yaxley was a pedophile, and everybody knew it. He liked them older than Greyback did - about twelve or thirteen. Draco could still remember how careful his father had been not to let him anywhere near Yaxley when he was younger. That hadn’t stopped Yaxley from lusting after him, though. Draco had assumed that Yaxley would lose interest as he got older - but if anything, it had gotten worse, and Draco knew it was only fear of Severus’ wrath that kept Yaxley from forcing the issue.
Draco’s irritation only made Yaxley’s smirk wider. “I hope you don’t mind sharing your toy, Snape.”
Severus shrugged indifferently. “For a cause such as this? Not at all.”
Even though Draco knew it was just for show, Severus’ casual dismissal stung. He concentrated on keeping his face and mind calm.
“It is true you have never had an assignment of this weight,” the Dark Lord said to him. “Are you up to the challenge?”
Draco summoned up his best arrogant sneer, recalling a time when such an expression had been second nature to him. “Seducing Harry Potter is hardly a challenge, my Lord.”
The Dark Lord smiled, satisfied. “Excellent. Severus will use his position within the Order to keep an eye on you. I will expect regular updates on your progress. Do you have any questions?”
“No, my Lord,” Draco said. You’re going to die, and I hope I’m there to see it. “I appreciate your faith in me.”
“Be sure you prove that it is well-deserved.”
***
After the meeting ended, Draco and Severus went straight to Spinner’s End. It was the only place they could be assured of total privacy.
Severus Apparated them both into the living room. As soon as he let go, Draco started to pace. He was trembling with repressed shock and anger, and the taste of fear was thick in the back of his throat.
“He knows,” Draco said.
Severus, in the midst of pouring them both a drink, raised an eyebrow.
“He knows about us,” Draco clarified. “That we’re - that it’s not just sex. That’s why he’s doing this. To punish us.”
Severus gave Draco his drink and then sat down on the couch with his own. “Perhaps. But you must admit that it is a sound plan. Potter’s heart has always been his greatest weakness. Were it not for your true loyalties and Potter’s ridiculous good luck, it would most likely work.”
Infuriated by Severus’ calm, Draco threw his glass against the far wall. Severus simply flicked his wand to repair the glass. The scotch, however, was a lost cause, and he Banished it.
“That was quite expensive scotch, you realize,” he said.
The feel of Severus’ magic brushing past him calmed Draco a little, as it always did, and he sank down onto the couch. Severus put his glass on the sidetable and pulled Draco to him.
“I don’t want to have sex with Potter,” Draco muttered against his shoulder.
Severus pressed a kiss against his temple. “I know.”
Draco shoved him away and stared at him incredulously. “That’s it? I’m about to be forced into whoring myself to someone we both dislike, and that’s all you have to say? Fuck you.”
“What do you want me to say, Draco?” Severus said tiredly.
Jumping to his feet, Draco exclaimed, “I want you to say that you’re angry! I want you to say that you would rather kill Potter than let him touch me, I want -”
His words were cut off as his throat constricted under the sudden wave of fear that flooded him - one of the fits of abrupt, unexpected panic that had been plaguing him for years. His heart raced and he fought for breath, feeling like the floor was falling away beneath him, like the ceiling was crashing down. An involuntary noise of pure terror escaped him.
“Goddamn it,” Severus said, standing up quickly and grabbing Draco’s arm to keep him from falling over. He drew his wand with his other hand and cast a quick warming charm.
It helped, but not enough. “Severus,” Draco gasped. “I can’t -”
“Expecto Patronum.”
The rush of powerful magic washed over Draco, through him, forcing away the fear and clearing his mind. Severus’ magic was the only thing that had ever been able to end Draco’s attacks prematurely, and even that was only because Draco had inherited his Malfoy grandmother’s tactile sensitivity to magic. He didn’t know how he would have survived the past two years without it.
Once he was sure Draco was stable, Severus dismissed the Patronus, knowing how much Draco hated to be reminded of his love for Lily Potter. Draco sagged against him. He was always embarrassed after episodes like that - they made him feel even weaker than he usually did. And worse, they made him feel unworthy of Severus.
Severus held him close. “I am angry,” he finally said in a low voice. “The thought of Potter touching you makes me physically ill. But this is larger than us both, Draco, and you know it. If we can turn the Dark Lord’s ambush back on him, if Potter manages to destroy the remaining Horcruxes in time - this could be the end of the war. Of everything. Do you not understand that?”
“You sound like a Gryffindor,” Draco said, looking up at him.
Severus stroked his cheek. “Not a Gryffindor. Just a man who is tired of war.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. And you will, because this is the best opportunity we have ever had to end it once and for all.”
“Do you really think Potter will go along with it? I didn’t even know he was attracted to men. He’s supposed to be in love with the Weasley girl.”
“At this point, I think there is very little Potter would not do to destroy the Dark Lord. I doubt he will consider sex with you to be an insurmountable obstacle.” When Draco glared at him, Severus kissed him softly. “Draco. We have survived worse.”
He started to pull away, but Draco pulled him back, into a real kiss. He wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck, sighing as Severus’ arms encircled his waist. They kissed slowly, deeply, both needing a measure of reassurance. When they broke the kiss, they simply rested their foreheads against each other for a moment.
Yes, Draco could do this. For Severus, he could do anything.
***
“Er…Come again?” Potter said.
Draco and Severus were sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with the only five members of the Order of the Phoenix who were aware of Draco’s status as a spy - Potter, Weasley, Granger, McGonagall, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. All five were currently staring at Draco with varying degrees of confusion.
“The Dark Lord wants me to seduce you,” Draco said. Potter kept staring at him blankly. “It’s really not a difficult concept to grasp, Potter. Would you like me to draw you a picture?”
Weasley, who had been having trouble keeping a straight face the whole time Draco had been speaking, suddenly snorted in laughter. Granger kicked him under the table.
“Ow,” Weasley said.
Potter shook his head. “I don’t understand. What the hell makes him think that would work? For all he knows, we’re mortal enemies.”
“He’s depending on your inability to resist a pathetic sob story. Also, your Occlumency apparently isn’t as perfect as you think it is. You should probably work on that.”
“What do you mean?” Potter asked sharply.
“I mean that it’s your fault he came up with this idea in the first place!” Draco said. “Somehow he managed to weasel his way into your head and see something that made him believe you’d go for it. Do you have a secret fetish for blonds or something?”
“What? No!” Potter said, although he started blushing furiously.
“Well, there must have been something, Potter. The Dark Lord didn’t just pull this plan out of his arse.”
Looking extremely embarrassed and avoiding everyone’s eyes, Potter mumbled, “Well…I mean…maybe I think about it sometimes…”
“We all think about blondes sometimes, mate,” said Weasley.
Granger kicked him again.
“Ow!”
McGonagall interrupted. “What concerns me more is how You-Know-Who was able to get past Harry’s shields.”
It was obviously worrying Potter, too, so much so that he stopped blushing. Everyone turned to look at Severus.
“Even the strongest of Occlumency can fracture under stress,” Severus said, “particularly when the subject is sleeping. Nightmares and other particularly vivid dreams can create cracks in the shield. And those cracks are only aggravated by the use of alcohol or other mind-altering substances.”
Weasley nodded. “Must’ve been that night a couple weeks ago when the raid went south and we got totally pissed afterwards -”
Granger kicked him a third time.
“Bloody hell, Hermione, stop that!”
“I’ll stop kicking you when you stop acting like an idiot!” she retorted. She was really starting to grow on Draco.
“So, what, I have one ambiguous dream when I’m drunk and Voldemort stakes his entire battle plan on it?” Potter said in disbelief.
“He’s done more ridiculous things,” said Draco, although privately he thought this one rather topped the list.
“And you’re okay with this?”
“Do I seem okay with this?” Draco shook his head in disgust. “I’m not. But I’m willing to do what I have to. I want this war over as much as you do.”
Potter nodded, then looked at Severus. “Are you okay with this?”
Severus tensed, and so did Draco. Although everyone present was aware of Severus and Draco’s relationship, nobody ever, ever talked about it. Potter was breaking an unwritten rule by bringing it up.
“That is irrelevant,” Severus said flatly. “This plan could end the war in a matter of weeks.”
“That’s true,” Granger agreed. “We’re close to Hufflepuff’s cup, Harry, and after that there’s just Nagini. If we can lull You-Know-Who into a false sense of security, we can get him and the snake at the same time and it’ll all be over.”
Potter looked to McGonagall and Shacklebolt for their opinions.
McGonagall said, “I must admit that I have reservations. But given the potential benefits…” She pursed her lips. “As long as you are both completely willing, I’ll support it.”
“Kingsley?” Potter asked.
Shacklebolt sat for a moment in contemplative silence, his inscrutable dark eyes reminding Draco of Severus’. When he finally spoke, it was to Draco, not Potter. “Before I approve or disapprove, there’s a question I’d like to ask you, Mr. Malfoy.”
Draco raised his eyebrows.
“How would you do it?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“This plan’s success will depend on you and Harry being able to convincingly fake a seduction, which means that you will have to act exactly as you would if you were truly on You-Know-Who’s side. What I want to know is this: if you weren’t an Order spy, if you were trying to seduce Harry for real in order to gain his trust, how would you do it?”
Draco blinked. In the hours since the Dark Lord had announced his plan, Draco hadn’t been able to think of anything else. He’d thought of the logistics of it, of the innumerable ways it could fail, of how awful it would be to have sex with Potter…
But not once had he thought of how he’d actually pull it off in the first place.
Shacklebolt was right. Severus would be taking copies of Draco’s memories of the “seduction” to the Dark Lord for review, and the Dark Lord was too talented a Legilimens to be fooled by fabricated or altered memories. Draco and Potter would have to act out certain scenes for real - it was the only way. If the memories were less than completely convincing, the Dark Lord would know, and the entire plan would fall apart.
Draco shook his head a little to keep his thoughts on track and refocused on Shacklebolt’s question. If Potter were his enemy and Draco wanted to seduce him, how would he go about it?
The six others at the table were looking at him expectantly. Draco studied Potter’s face and thought about what he knew about the man.
“Potter has a saviour complex,” he said slowly, mostly just thinking aloud. “He needs to be needed, which means he’s attracted to vulnerability and to people who need to be rescued or saved. The story about my parents being murdered would help, because his parents were murdered by the same man. I’d also make sure that when I came to him I at least appeared to be badly injured, because it would lower his defenses and trigger his protective instincts.”
Draco glanced at Shacklebolt, but the man’s face was expressionless. Potter, for his part, looked slightly taken aback.
“Our history and my personality make the situation more complicated,” Draco continued, “because we’re supposed to be enemies, and anybody who knows me at all knows I hate to show weakness in front of anyone, especially people I hate. I would be forced to walk a fine line between presenting myself as vulnerable and in need of saving while also pretending to hate myself for that same vulnerability. Anything less would seem out of character and make Potter suspicious. Basically, given the complications of the situation, the only way for me to convincingly seduce Potter would be with a great show of reluctance - perhaps even making it seem like it had been his idea all along.”
By the time Draco had finished speaking, Potter, Weasley, and Granger were all staring at him with open mouths, and McGonagall’s eyebrows had climbed into her hairline. Severus’ expression had changed little, but Draco knew how to read him well enough to know that he approved, which, as always, gave Draco a warm glow.
Shacklebolt smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I agree. And you can count on my support.”
Draco inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“That was weird,” Weasley said, then flinched as if he expected Granger to kick him again - which she didn’t, probably because it seemed that she agreed.
A brief silence descended over the table, which was broken by Potter clearing his throat.
“Right,” he said. “Now that Malfoy knows how we’re going to do it, let’s talk about what it’s going to take to get this done.”
***
The meeting lasted several more hours, and it was late by the time Draco and Severus returned to Spinner’s End. Yet neither of them had any intention of sleeping.
Their lovemaking was slow and languid, which was uncommon for them. Usually they both preferred sex to be fast and hard - rough, even. But the mood was different tonight. Draco needed to feel Severus against every inch of his skin, and Severus seemed to feel a similar need. He touched and tasted every part of Draco from his head to his feet, moving unhurriedly, before finally sliding inside Draco’s body and taking him gently, rocking back and forth within him.
It went on forever. Draco tightened his legs around Severus’ waist, his hands roaming over every part of Severus’ skin that he could reach. The light from the candles was low, but it was enough for Draco to see the concentration on Severus’ face, the intensity in the eyes that looked back into his own. Severus’ magic washed over Draco in steady waves, somehow comforting and arousing at the same time.
Draco couldn’t hold himself back anymore, and he climaxed with a soft cry. Severus followed him seconds later, burying his face in the crook of Draco’s neck to muffle his own deep groan.
Afterwards, as they lay warm and sated in sticky sheets, they said the words to each other that they rarely spoke aloud. Unspoken but inescapable was the knowledge that what happened tomorrow could change things between them forever.
Perhaps even tear them apart.
***
“Absolutely not, Severus. Are you mad?”
“There is no other way to completely ensure your safety -”
“There’s also no other way to completely ensure that the plan fails before it even begins,” Draco shot back. “Do you honestly believe that you could convincingly beat me into a bloody pulp?”
Severus clenched his jaw. “You will be anesthetized.”
“You know that wouldn’t matter to you. All you’d see would be yourself beating your defenseless lover. You’d either finish it prematurely or you’d see it all the way through and hate yourself forever. I won’t have it.”
Severus glared at him, and Draco glared right back. Perhaps it would have been enough to get him to back down a few years ago, but they had been through too much together for Draco to be cowed by an angry look these days.
The Dark Lord had been very pleased with Draco’s idea of going to Potter badly injured, and he’d immediately given his approval. All that remained was for someone to administer the actual beating - with Draco numb to the pain, of course. It would be foolish for him to go into enemy territory truly incapacitated; it was imperative that he be able to think clearly and keep his wits about him.
Draco hadn’t anticipated Severus’ idiocy in wanting to be the one to beat him. He knew where it came from - Severus didn’t trust anyone else not to damage Draco irreparably. But Draco also knew that it was one of the worst ideas Severus had ever had. He came from a past scarred by domestic violence, and he already struggled with self-loathing as it was. Beating Draco, even if Draco couldn’t feel it, would simply be too much for Severus to handle.
“If you will not allow me to do it myself, then I will at least be present to supervise,” said Severus.
“Really,” Draco drawled, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re just going to stand there calmly and watch while someone else - Yaxley, perhaps - hurts me? Without attempting to intervene?”
Severus made a noise of frustration. Draco put a hand on his arm.
“Severus,” he said softly, “you care too much for me to be involved in this. I’ll get my father to supervise. He’s colder than you are and it won’t affect him as much, but he still won’t let them go too far.”
A brief struggle played out over Severus’ face before he finally relented. “If your father is there, I will stay away.”
“Thank you.” Draco slid his arms around Severus’ neck and kissed him briefly. “I’ll be fine, you know. I won’t feel a thing, thanks to your potion.”
“I know. I only -”
Instead of finishing his thought, Severus gripped Draco’s hips and pulled their bodies flush together, his mouth coming down on Draco’s with unexpected intensity. Draco moaned into the consuming kiss, returning it with equal passion until he couldn’t breathe.
They broke the kiss, both of them panting. Draco was already hard, and he could feel Severus even through their thick robes. As always, the thought that Severus Snape, of all people, wanted him that badly made Draco dizzy.
He forced himself to take a step back, away from the intoxicating heat of Severus’ body. They simply didn’t have time for another round right now, no matter how much they both might want it.
Severus came to the same conclusion. He drew himself up and took a deep breath, drawing his wand to remove the tell-tale swelling from both their mouths. He picked a vial up off his worktable and handed it to Draco.
“Drink the entire thing,” he said. “It will prevent you from feeling any pain, but it will not make you completely numb. You will still be able to feel any other physical sensation. It may also make you a bit lightheaded.”
“All right,” said Draco. They locked eyes, and for a moment, Draco could see how truly frightened Severus was for him.
The expression disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “I will come and get you when they have finished,” Severus said stiffly.
***
It turned out to be Yaxley who did it, after all, along with Macnair. Draco wasn’t surprised - they were the Dark Lord’s two most skilled torturers - but he was doubly glad that he had talked Severus into not attending.
As Lucius watched from a chair set against the wall in the Manor’s library, Yaxley and Macnair administered an expert beating that was designed to look horrific and hold up to a medical examination, but would still be easily healed and leave no lasting marks if properly treated.
It was odd, being tortured under anesthesia. Draco could feel the pressure of every one of Yaxley’s blows, but he couldn’t feel the pain. He felt the heat of Macnair’s curses, but they didn’t actually hurt. The discrepancy caused a strange disconnect between his mind and his body, and he did indeed start to feel lightheaded - though whether it was from the effects of the potion or if it was just psychological, Draco didn’t know.
Yaxley and Macnair had taken off their robes for the beating, and to Draco’s disgust, Yaxley’s massive erection was clearly visible underneath his trousers. Yaxley only ever used his hands instead of magic while torturing if he was getting off on it. Now he had his long-awaited chance to get his hands on Draco’s body, and it seemed he wasn’t going to let that go to waste. Draco’s skin crawled wherever Yaxley touched him, and he did his best to avoid looking at the pervert at all, mostly to avoid the leers Yaxley kept giving him.
Instead, Draco focused on his father. Lucius observed the proceedings impassively, seemingly no more moved than if he’d been watching a game of croquet. Yet every now and then, Draco saw in his eyes a brief flicker of some unnamable emotion.
Regret, perhaps. Unhappiness. Or, knowing Lucius, it could have just been indigestion.
Draco hadn’t been lying when he’d said that Lucius was colder than Severus. He was old enough now to know that although his father loved him in his own way, there was something important missing there - something that allowed Lucius to watch innocent people being tortured without flinching, without feeling. Although Severus was good at pretending that he had that same quality, it wasn’t true. He felt the pain of every wound he inflicted. Still, he would have been able to watch this beating with the same lack of reaction as Lucius, had the victim been anyone but Draco.
Draco was Severus’ greatest - perhaps only - weakness. That knowledge both thrilled and terrified him.
Macnair sent one final curse sizzling over Draco’s skin and lowered his wand. “I think that’s enough.”
Yaxley seemed disappointed, but he stepped back and looked Draco over with a critical eye. “Will it be enough to garner Potter’s sympathy?” he asked dubiously.
“The boy looks like he’s been trampled by hippogriffs,” Macnair snorted. “Anyway, it’s as much as we can do without causing permanent or internal damage.”
Yaxley glanced over his shoulder. “Want to take a look, Lucius?” he said with poisonous sweetness.
Ignoring Yaxley’s tone, Lucius stood and walked over to where Draco lay on the floor, bruised and bleeding. “Well done, gentlemen,” he said. “My compliments on your technique.”
Draco almost laughed. It appeared there was a bit of the old Lucius left, after all.
Yaxley knelt by Draco’s side and ran a hand over his torn and bloodstained shirt, through which significant portions of his bare chest were visible. Wistfully, Yaxley said, “He didn’t even scream.”
Draco knocked Yaxley’s hand aside with his mostly undamaged right arm. “That’s because it didn’t hurt, you idiot,” he tried to say, but the words came out slurred and almost unintelligible. There was something wrong with his jaw.
“Ah, yes,” said Yaxley, moving his hand to Draco’s cheek and then trailing his fingers over Draco’s lips. “I wouldn’t try to speak, if I were you. Your jaw’s been dislocated.”
Draco jerked his head away. Yaxley’s mockingly gentle touch nauseated him.
“I believe it’s time to send for Severus,” Lucius said pointedly.
Yaxley stood with a sigh, giving Draco’s beaten body one more longing look. Draco was certain the man would be wanking to the memory of today for weeks. His stomach lurched.
Once Macnair and Yaxley had left the library to retrieve Severus, Lucius lowered himself to the floor next to Draco. Draco struggled to sit up, but his father put a hand on him to keep him still. “It’s best if you don’t try to move,” he said. “You don’t want to risk aggravating your injuries.”
Draco nodded and tried to relax, staring up at the ceiling. His head still felt a bit floaty, almost as if he were having an out-of-body experience. He didn’t like it at all.
He was grounded somewhat by an unexpected touch to his forehead. Draco looked at Lucius’ face and was astonished to see honest concern creasing his father’s brow.
“Are you in any pain?” Lucius asked in a quiet voice.
Draco shook his head. Lucius sighed and continued to stroke Draco’s hair gently, even tenderly, his gaze becoming unfocused as he looked across the room in the direction of the door. Draco closed his own eyes, bemused. It had been years since his father had touched him this way.
A few minutes later, footsteps sounded in the corridor. Lucius pulled his hand away and managed to get to his feet just as the door opened and Severus stepped into the room, followed by Yaxley and Macnair.
Severus stopped short when he saw Draco. His entire body stiffened, a flash of pure, incandescent fury crossing his face before he managed to tamp it down, and Draco knew without a doubt that he had made the right decision earlier.
Yaxley, perhaps sensing Severus’ tension, said, “Sorry to break your toy, Snape, but orders are orders.”
“I am sure it was a great sacrifice on your part,” Severus returned coolly. He closed the distance between himself and Draco and looked down, his eyes empty and dispassionate. “You did make certain not to damage him irreparably, I trust?”
Yaxley opened his mouth to answer, but Macnair, who had more respect for Severus, cut him off with a glare. “Nothing’s been done to him that even a halfway competent Healer couldn’t fix.”
Severus flicked his gaze to Lucius, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod. He crouched by Draco’s side. “Can you stand?”
“I don’t know,” Draco mumbled. It was difficult to speak with his jaw out of place.
Severus frowned at Draco’s garbled speech, then reached out and lightly brushed his hand against the dislocated joint. His lips tightened.
“He won’t be able to stand,” Yaxley volunteered with poorly concealed satisfaction. “His right leg’s broken in at least two places.”
Severus didn’t respond. Instead, his slipped one arm under Draco’s shoulders and another under his thighs, lifting Draco easily as he stood. Draco put his right arm around Severus’ neck, glad that he could move at least that part of his body without any problems. Yaxley and Macnair had been under strict instructions not to impair Draco’s usage of his wand arm in any way.
“Inform the Dark Lord that I am taking Draco to Grimmauld Place,” Severus said to Lucius, ignoring the other two men completely.
“How will you convince Potter to allow him through the wards?”
“It should not be difficult. One look at Draco in this state may be enough.”
Lucius made a noise of agreement and stepped aside. As Severus strode from the room with Draco in his arms, Draco realized that he had no idea how severe his injuries truly were. Without pain, there was no good way for him to gauge how hurt he was, and without a mirror, he couldn’t tell how bad it looked. It hadn’t seemed like Yaxley and Macnair had beaten him for very long, but from his father’s and Severus’ reactions, Draco was starting to think that he’d underestimated the damage they’d done.
Severus was silent as they travelled through the Manor’s front doors and out onto the grounds, heading for the imposing gates that marked the boundary of the anti-Apparition wards. Draco rested his head against Severus’ shoulder.
“How bad is it?” he managed to get out relatively clearly.
For a few moments, he thought Severus wasn’t going to answer. “Very,” Severus finally said. “Although it looks worse than it is, as was the intention.”
Draco lifted his head to get a better look at Severus’ face, but was distracted when he noticed a dark wet patch on the shoulder of Severus’ robes where his head had been resting. “My face is bleeding,” he said stupidly.
“Yes. Now hush. You will damage your jaw further if you continue to speak.”
They passed through the gates. Draco returned his head to Severus’ shoulder just before Severus Apparated them both to London.
They ended up on a street two blocks from Grimmauld Place, where the wards defending the Order’s headquarters began. Muggles could pass through the wards freely, but the only witches and wizards who could get anywhere near the house were those who had been added to the wards by Potter himself. Of course, Draco already had free passage, but the Dark Lord didn’t know that. He would want to see Severus’ memory of getting Draco through the wards - to gloat, if nothing else - so a bit of playacting was required.
As they approached the very edge of the wards, Severus bent his head to brush a kiss over Draco’s forehead. “Be sure to act properly wounded,” he said. “Remember, your parents have just been murdered and you have been badly beaten -”
Draco huffed in exasperation. They’d been over this a million times, for Merlin’s sake. He hated it when Severus treated him as if he were incompetent, even when he didn’t mean it that way. Acid words sprang to Draco’s tongue, and he regretted that his jaw wouldn’t allow him to say them.
Severus got the point anyway. He had drawn his wand - with some difficulty - before they had Apparated, and he now held it in his left hand, pressed against Draco’s shoulder. Without releasing his hold on Draco, Severus extended his wand to prod at the wards and alert Potter to his presence.
Potter could activate a two-way auditory link between himself and any point in the wards, as well as a one-way visual link that allowed him to see outside the wards without letting anyone else see him. From experience, Draco knew that Potter rarely utilized the visual link, as he found it disconcerting to see a disembodied image floating in thin air.
“Snape?” Potter’s voice crackled through the wards, sounding irritated. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You need to allow Draco Malfoy passage through the wards.”
“What? Are you mad?”
Draco was reassured to note that Potter’s acting skills, while not stellar, were at least reasonably convincing. This might not fail miserably, after all.
“He is badly injured and in need of immediate medical attention.”
“So take him to St. Mungo’s.”
“Potter!” Severus barked. “This is not a joke. Draco’s parents are dead, and he will soon follow them if you do not let us through.”
“The Malfoys are dead?”
Even knowing it wasn’t true, hearing the words spoken aloud made Draco’s blood chill.
“Yes. Draco is in grave danger.”
His voice reluctant, Potter said, “I can’t just put everyone else here at risk -”
“Look at him, Potter.”
There was a moment of silence as Potter activated the visual link. Draco did his best to look pathetic and near-unconscious from pain, hanging limply in Severus’ arms with his eyes closed.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Potter gasped, and he sounded honestly shocked. “What happened?”
“I will explain when we are safe. Open the wards.”
“Okay, okay, give me a minute.”
A few seconds later, the wards shimmered and then sparked with blue and white lights - a meaningless effect that was just designed to look good for the Dark Lord. Severus stepped through them without a problem and carried Draco the remaining blocks to Number 12.
Potter was waiting for them at the door. “Is he okay?” he said anxiously as he shut the door behind them.
“He needs a Healer.”
“I’ll Floo Pomfrey. She can be here in a few minutes.”
Draco fluttered his eyes open, then made a confused noise when he saw Potter, who looked very pale. He pushed at Severus’ chest as if he were trying to get away.
“Draco, stop,” said Severus. “You are safe here.”
Draco only increased his struggles, and Severus was forced to set him on his feet to avoid dropping him. Careful to keep most of his weight on his unbroken leg, Draco took a couple of limping steps towards the door before crying out in pain and pretending to faint - right into Potter’s arms.
He hadn’t warned either Potter or Severus that he was planning to do that, but Potter caught him, as Draco had known he would. There was a brief, startled silence that made Draco want to roll his eyes.
Then Potter lifted Draco into his arms, holding him in much the same way that Severus had. Something in Draco prickled with irritation at the ease with which Potter was able to carry him. When had Potter the underfed weakling been replaced by Potter the strapping soldier? It made it much harder for Draco to feel superior to him.
“Er…” Potter said in a way that reassured Draco that even if Potter was physically stronger than him now, Draco was at least still more intelligent. “I guess we should take him into the living room. I can use the fireplace to get in touch with Pomfrey.”
They walked the few metres from the foyer to the living room, where Potter gently laid Draco on the couch. Draco was careful to keep his body limp and unresponsive.
“Who did this to him?” Potter asked Severus.
“Death Eaters. The Dark Lord killed his parents for disobedience, and Draco barely managed to escape onto the grounds after they tortured him. I was able to find him first and bring him here without anyone noticing.”
“Good thing.”
There was a rustle and a hissing noise as Potter knelt by the fireplace and threw a bit of Floo powder into it.
“Madam Pomfrey, Hogwarts infirmary.”
A sleepy voice answered. “Harry?”
“Sorry to wake you, Madam Pomfrey, but it’s an emergency.”
Sounding more alert now, Pomfrey said, “Who’s been hurt?”
“This is going to sound weird, but…Draco Malfoy.”
All Draco could hear in response to that was flabbergasted sputtering. For all Pomfrey knew, Draco was an avid supporter of the Dark Lord.
“I can explain when you get here. But please hurry. He’s hurt very badly.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” said Pomfrey, and closed the connection.
Potter stood. “He’ll be okay,” he said to Severus. “Pomfrey can fix almost anything.”
“I am well-acquainted with her skills,” Severus said impatiently. “I need to return to Malfoy Manor before the others realize that I am missing.”
“All right.”
“Accompany me to the door.”
“Er…okay,” Potter said, confused.
Listening to the two men leave the room, Draco was confused as well. There was no reason for Potter to see Severus out - unless there was something Severus wanted to say to Potter that he didn’t want Draco to hear.
Potter didn’t return for a good five minutes, during which Draco’s anxiety increased exponentially. What could they possibly have to talk about that would take so long?
Draco took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. If he got any more worked up, he might trigger a panic attack. Without Severus here to help him, that could prove disastrous.
“Malfoy,” Potter said from the doorway, interrupting Draco’s unsettling thoughts. “You’re not really unconscious, are you?”
Draco opened his eyes. “No.”
Potter moved to sit in the chair next to the couch, angling it so he and Draco could talk face-to-face without Draco having to move. “That was a dirty trick,” he said, although he didn’t seem upset.
Risking further damage to his jaw, Draco said, “The Dark Lord will like it.” It was actually becoming easier to talk now that he was growing familiar to the feeling of the dislocation, and the words came out much more comprehensibly than he’d been able to manage before.
Potter made a face. “How about a warning next time?”
“No,” Draco said. When Potter raised his eyebrows, Draco added, “I can’t tell you everything I’m going to do before I do it. I need your reactions to be as genuine as possible. And in case you don’t know this about yourself, you’re not the world’s best liar.”
Potter rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it.
Trying to sound uninterested, Draco asked, “What did Severus say to you?”
To Draco’s apprehension, Potter started blushing. “Nothing important,” he said, totally unconvincingly.
“If that’s any indication of the skill with which you’re going to handle this mission, we may as well offer ourselves up to the Dark Lord now.”
“Come on, Malfoy.” Potter sighed. “I’m going to have sex with his boyfriend. What do you think he said to me?”
Draco was horrified, and for more than one reason. “Boyfriend? I’m not…he isn’t…we don’t use that term.” He could only imagine how appalled Severus would be if he heard Potter referring to their relationship in such a way.
“Lover, then. Whatever. Does it really matter?” Potter shifted in his seat. “He’s just protective of you, that’s all. And he gave me your wand. I’ll give it to you tomorrow, if that’s all right. We don’t want Pomfrey wondering why I let you keep it.”
“Fine,” Draco said. He had the distinct impression that Potter wasn’t telling him everything, but the sound of footsteps kept him from pursuing it. The Floo in the basement kitchen was the only one that was equipped for travel as well as communication; Madam Pomfrey must have arrived.
Potter heard it, too, and they both fell silent. Draco closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles. This would be easier on everyone if he didn’t have to actually talk to Pomfrey.
She burst into the room a second later, exclaiming in honest dismay over Draco’s condition. While Pomfrey worked on the injuries, Potter explained to her what had happened.
“Poor child,” Pomfrey clucked as she mended Draco’s broken ribs. “You’re all far too young to be dealing with such things.”
It took much longer for Pomfrey to heal Draco than it had taken Yaxley and Macnair to beat him, and the tedium of the situation was only increased by the inane chatter between her and Potter. To distract himself, Draco thought about what Severus was doing now - probably showing the memory of Draco’s successful infiltration to the Dark Lord. Draco hoped the Dark Lord was pleased; Severus didn’t recover well from a bout of Cruciatus when Draco wasn’t there to care for him.
They had been separated for less than an hour, but Draco’s throat already ached with missing Severus. For the past two years, they had never been apart for more than a couple of days at a time. His absence created an emptiness in Draco that felt almost like hunger.
Pomfrey finally finished her work and left. She didn’t know it, but her parting admonition for Potter to “Take care of that boy” actually worked in their favour. Had the situation been real, Potter would have been more likely to care for Draco if a trusted friend advised him to. Draco made a mental note to have Severus show the Dark Lord that particular memory.
“How do you feel?” Potter asked once Pomfrey had safely Flooed back to Hogwarts.
Draco sat up gingerly, testing out his limbs. They all worked as they should. “Fine. Tired.”
“Should we leave the rest until tomorrow?”
“No,” said Draco. “We have to do it tonight. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s your call.” Potter stood up from his chair. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’re staying.”
***
The room Draco was staying in was conveniently located a few doors away from Potter’s own. He slid between the sheets of the comfortable bed, fighting exhaustion. They only needed one more memory, and then he could sleep.
Draco settled back against the pillows and closed his eyes, waiting until Potter had pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat in it before speaking. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.”
Vulnerable but not weak. Draco focused on his goal, determined to get this right the first time.
He took a sharp breath and opened his eyes, gaze darting around the room before landing on Potter. “What…where…Potter?”
Potter straightened up. “It’s all right, Malfoy. You’re safe.”
Shaking his head in confusion, Draco said, “I don’t…Where am I?”
“The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Snape brought you here.”
Draco made his breaths come gradually faster, so that they sounded panicky. “Why would he do that?”
Potter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes intent on Draco’s face. “Do you remember what happened?” he asked.
“I…” Draco blinked and looked away, frowning as if trying to search his memory. His eyes widened and he let out a sound of distress. “My parents.”
“Snape said Vol - You-Know-Who killed them. I’m sorry.”
Draco inhaled shakily and covered his face with his hands.
“The Death Eaters almost killed you, too. You’re lucky Snape found you first and brought you here.”
Dropping his hands, Draco glared at Potter through just the slightest hint of tears. “Lucky? My parents are dead. And I…” He looked down at himself, touching his ribs gingerly. “I was hurt.”
“I had someone come and heal you,” said Potter.
“Why? Why not just let me die?”
Potter looked taken aback. “I would never do that.”
Hence our current dilemma. Draco pushed the thought away and said, “We’re on opposite sides of a war, Potter.”
“Yeah?” Potter raised his eyebrows. “So you’re still loyal to the man who killed your parents and had you nearly beaten to death?”
Draco clenched his jaw, his lower lip trembling a bit. He refused to meet Potter’s eyes.
“That’s what I thought.” Potter suddenly stood. “Look, Malfoy, I don’t really give a fuck what you do. But the hard truth is that if you leave this house, they will find you, and they will kill you. If you stay here, you’ll be safe.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because sending you out there without a wand would be the same thing as killing you myself, and I don’t fancy myself a murderer.” Potter’s expression hardened. “But I swear, Malfoy, if you put one toe out of line, if you so much as even vaguely threaten a single person in this household, I will put you out on the street so fast it’ll make your head spin. Got it?”
Draco scowled and sat silently for a few moments, pretending to weigh his options. Of course, they had designed the scenario so that he had no options. “Fine,” he spat out.
Potter snorted as he headed for the door. “No need to thank me or anything.” He stopped with his hand on the knob and turned his head to look back at Draco. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on you,” he said warningly.
Instead of answering, Draco just rolled over and pulled the covers up to his chin. Potter left, shutting the door behind him.
Ten seconds later, he opened it again and poked his head back in. “Was that okay?”
“It was fine,” Draco said, too tired to even move. He sensed that Potter wouldn’t go away until he’d gotten some measure of reassurance, though, so he added, “You’re not as completely useless at this as I’d feared.”
Potter struggled between indignation and amusement before finally chuckling. “Thanks, I guess. Er…good night, then.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Potter left - for real, this time - and Draco was finally alone. He had only a minute to miss Severus’ presence beside him in the bed before he dropped like a stone into sleep.
Part Two
Author: gypsyflame
Pairings: Snape/Draco; Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 42,680
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, et al. This was created for fun, not for profit.
Warnings: Some violence; attempted rape (not in main pairings)
Summary: Voldemort gives Draco a mission to seduce Harry into an ambush - not knowing that Draco is an Order spy. When Draco and Harry try to turn Voldemort's plan against him, Draco realizes that his relationship with Severus may not survive the challenge.
A/N: Written for the 2010 Draco Big Bang. Takes place in an AU two years after HBP, in which Voldemort is still alive and the war is still raging. A million thanks to the_flic, who offered invaluable suggestions for improvement and moral support when I started referring to this fic as the Never-Ending Story of Death. Title comes from the song "Jillian" by Within Temptation.
“Do you know what he wants?”
Severus shook his head, lips set in a thin line. Draco sighed. Spontaneous Death Eater meetings were rarely a good thing.
They left Draco’s suite of rooms at the Manor and headed for the drawing room, Draco falling into step by Severus’ side - where he had been for the past two years. They had become lovers long before Draco had learned of Severus’ real allegiance, and by the time Severus had told him the truth, Draco would have switched sides even if he hadn’t already hated the Dark Lord with every bone in his body.
As an Order spy, Draco walked a fine line in presenting himself to the Dark Lord as just useless enough not to send on any dangerous missions but still useful enough to keep around; he mostly assisted Severus’ potion-making. Because the other Death Eaters didn’t see Draco as a threat, they let their guards down around him in a way they never would have around Severus. To them, he was just Snape’s little toyboy, someone weak who exchanged sex for protection. Draco and Severus did everything they could to encourage that assumption. It amused the Dark Lord, and it kept the Death Eaters from harassing Draco and his parents.
Their entrance to the drawing room was perfectly timed - neither the first nor the last to arrive. Severus took his seat at the Dark Lord’s right hand, and Draco sat next to him. On Draco’s other side, his father sat staring vacantly into space. Lucius seemed to spend much of his time that way lately, even though he was perfectly healthy; his fall from grace had simply made him lost and hopeless without the kindness of making him mad as well. Next to Lucius, Narcissa gave Draco a small, tight smile before returning her eyes to the table.
The Dark Lord remained silent as the rest of the Death Eaters filed in. He seemed to be in a pleasant mood, which could be good for Draco or very, very bad. The strain of the situation was unbearable. Draco had never been skilled at dealing with stress, and his muscles were so tense that they ached. He didn’t even realize he was bouncing his knee until Severus put a hand on it to stop him.
Once the room was full and all eyes were on him, the Dark Lord spoke. “I have gathered you here tonight, my most faithful, because the end of this war is now in sight. Soon, Harry Potter will die, and the rest of his Order will crumble to dust without him.”
Draco rolled his eyes internally. This had to be the eighth or ninth time the Dark Lord had made that very announcement in two years.
“Do you have a plan, my Lord?” Bellatrix asked eagerly.
“I do. I have recently come into possession of intelligence which makes clear that we have overlooked one of Potter’s serious weaknesses.”
The Dark Lord paused for dramatic effect - one of his most annoying habits - and Draco took the opportunity to glance over at Severus to see if he knew what was going on. Severus shook his head minutely.
“Potter’s Occlumency has vastly improved over the past few years,” the Dark Lord continued, “but there are still occasions when he lets his guard down and I am able to get a glimpse of his dreams.” He turned suddenly to Draco. “Mr. Malfoy.”
“My Lord?” Draco responded, startled. The Dark Lord rarely addressed him directly anymore.
Softly, the Dark Lord said, “It would seem our wholesome hero has a taste for blonds.”
Draco blinked, unsure where this was going but positive he wasn’t going to like it.
“Do you believe yourself worthy of an assignment of true importance? The success of my plan would hinge entirely on your…skills, such as they are.”
“I would be honoured to serve you in any way you wish, my Lord.”
“I see. And if I wish for you to seduce Harry Potter?”
A shocked silence descended over the table before several Death Eaters started snickering. Even Lucius was shaken out of his daze. The Dark Lord ignored them all, not moving his eyes from Draco’s face.
Draco forced himself not to look at Severus, even though he desperately wanted to. “I…I’m not sure I understand, my Lord.”
“It’s quite simple, really,” the Dark Lord said. “Severus has the Order’s trust. He will take you to their headquarters. You will claim that I killed your parents for some indiscretion and that you fled in fear for your own safety, and you will beg Potter for asylum. Severus, am I correct in assuming that Potter would be unable to turn away even an enemy in need?”
Severus’ voice was as inflectionless as if they were speaking of the weather. “Yes, my Lord. Potter’s soft heart has been his undoing time and again.”
“Just so.” The Dark Lord shifted his attention back to Draco. “Once ensconced in Grimmauld Place, you will do whatever is necessary to win Potter’s affections. He is the type of man who cannot easily separate sex and love. If you give him your body, he will give you his heart.”
Under the table, Draco dug his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from reacting. If Severus hadn’t spent the past two years intensively training him in Occlumency…
“It should not take you long to extract a promise of devotion and protection. Once you have done so, Severus will kidnap you.” The Dark Lord settled back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. “Judging by his past, Potter will come after you with very little forethought and little to no backup, and he will be ill-prepared for the ambush that awaits.”
There were murmurs of appreciation all around the table. “A most excellent plan, my Lord,” Yaxley said. “Assuming, of course, that Malfoy is up to it.”
Draco glared at him. “I think I can handle Potter,” he snapped. “But your concern is noted.”
Yaxley was a pedophile, and everybody knew it. He liked them older than Greyback did - about twelve or thirteen. Draco could still remember how careful his father had been not to let him anywhere near Yaxley when he was younger. That hadn’t stopped Yaxley from lusting after him, though. Draco had assumed that Yaxley would lose interest as he got older - but if anything, it had gotten worse, and Draco knew it was only fear of Severus’ wrath that kept Yaxley from forcing the issue.
Draco’s irritation only made Yaxley’s smirk wider. “I hope you don’t mind sharing your toy, Snape.”
Severus shrugged indifferently. “For a cause such as this? Not at all.”
Even though Draco knew it was just for show, Severus’ casual dismissal stung. He concentrated on keeping his face and mind calm.
“It is true you have never had an assignment of this weight,” the Dark Lord said to him. “Are you up to the challenge?”
Draco summoned up his best arrogant sneer, recalling a time when such an expression had been second nature to him. “Seducing Harry Potter is hardly a challenge, my Lord.”
The Dark Lord smiled, satisfied. “Excellent. Severus will use his position within the Order to keep an eye on you. I will expect regular updates on your progress. Do you have any questions?”
“No, my Lord,” Draco said. You’re going to die, and I hope I’m there to see it. “I appreciate your faith in me.”
“Be sure you prove that it is well-deserved.”
***
After the meeting ended, Draco and Severus went straight to Spinner’s End. It was the only place they could be assured of total privacy.
Severus Apparated them both into the living room. As soon as he let go, Draco started to pace. He was trembling with repressed shock and anger, and the taste of fear was thick in the back of his throat.
“He knows,” Draco said.
Severus, in the midst of pouring them both a drink, raised an eyebrow.
“He knows about us,” Draco clarified. “That we’re - that it’s not just sex. That’s why he’s doing this. To punish us.”
Severus gave Draco his drink and then sat down on the couch with his own. “Perhaps. But you must admit that it is a sound plan. Potter’s heart has always been his greatest weakness. Were it not for your true loyalties and Potter’s ridiculous good luck, it would most likely work.”
Infuriated by Severus’ calm, Draco threw his glass against the far wall. Severus simply flicked his wand to repair the glass. The scotch, however, was a lost cause, and he Banished it.
“That was quite expensive scotch, you realize,” he said.
The feel of Severus’ magic brushing past him calmed Draco a little, as it always did, and he sank down onto the couch. Severus put his glass on the sidetable and pulled Draco to him.
“I don’t want to have sex with Potter,” Draco muttered against his shoulder.
Severus pressed a kiss against his temple. “I know.”
Draco shoved him away and stared at him incredulously. “That’s it? I’m about to be forced into whoring myself to someone we both dislike, and that’s all you have to say? Fuck you.”
“What do you want me to say, Draco?” Severus said tiredly.
Jumping to his feet, Draco exclaimed, “I want you to say that you’re angry! I want you to say that you would rather kill Potter than let him touch me, I want -”
His words were cut off as his throat constricted under the sudden wave of fear that flooded him - one of the fits of abrupt, unexpected panic that had been plaguing him for years. His heart raced and he fought for breath, feeling like the floor was falling away beneath him, like the ceiling was crashing down. An involuntary noise of pure terror escaped him.
“Goddamn it,” Severus said, standing up quickly and grabbing Draco’s arm to keep him from falling over. He drew his wand with his other hand and cast a quick warming charm.
It helped, but not enough. “Severus,” Draco gasped. “I can’t -”
“Expecto Patronum.”
The rush of powerful magic washed over Draco, through him, forcing away the fear and clearing his mind. Severus’ magic was the only thing that had ever been able to end Draco’s attacks prematurely, and even that was only because Draco had inherited his Malfoy grandmother’s tactile sensitivity to magic. He didn’t know how he would have survived the past two years without it.
Once he was sure Draco was stable, Severus dismissed the Patronus, knowing how much Draco hated to be reminded of his love for Lily Potter. Draco sagged against him. He was always embarrassed after episodes like that - they made him feel even weaker than he usually did. And worse, they made him feel unworthy of Severus.
Severus held him close. “I am angry,” he finally said in a low voice. “The thought of Potter touching you makes me physically ill. But this is larger than us both, Draco, and you know it. If we can turn the Dark Lord’s ambush back on him, if Potter manages to destroy the remaining Horcruxes in time - this could be the end of the war. Of everything. Do you not understand that?”
“You sound like a Gryffindor,” Draco said, looking up at him.
Severus stroked his cheek. “Not a Gryffindor. Just a man who is tired of war.”
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. And you will, because this is the best opportunity we have ever had to end it once and for all.”
“Do you really think Potter will go along with it? I didn’t even know he was attracted to men. He’s supposed to be in love with the Weasley girl.”
“At this point, I think there is very little Potter would not do to destroy the Dark Lord. I doubt he will consider sex with you to be an insurmountable obstacle.” When Draco glared at him, Severus kissed him softly. “Draco. We have survived worse.”
He started to pull away, but Draco pulled him back, into a real kiss. He wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck, sighing as Severus’ arms encircled his waist. They kissed slowly, deeply, both needing a measure of reassurance. When they broke the kiss, they simply rested their foreheads against each other for a moment.
Yes, Draco could do this. For Severus, he could do anything.
***
“Er…Come again?” Potter said.
Draco and Severus were sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with the only five members of the Order of the Phoenix who were aware of Draco’s status as a spy - Potter, Weasley, Granger, McGonagall, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. All five were currently staring at Draco with varying degrees of confusion.
“The Dark Lord wants me to seduce you,” Draco said. Potter kept staring at him blankly. “It’s really not a difficult concept to grasp, Potter. Would you like me to draw you a picture?”
Weasley, who had been having trouble keeping a straight face the whole time Draco had been speaking, suddenly snorted in laughter. Granger kicked him under the table.
“Ow,” Weasley said.
Potter shook his head. “I don’t understand. What the hell makes him think that would work? For all he knows, we’re mortal enemies.”
“He’s depending on your inability to resist a pathetic sob story. Also, your Occlumency apparently isn’t as perfect as you think it is. You should probably work on that.”
“What do you mean?” Potter asked sharply.
“I mean that it’s your fault he came up with this idea in the first place!” Draco said. “Somehow he managed to weasel his way into your head and see something that made him believe you’d go for it. Do you have a secret fetish for blonds or something?”
“What? No!” Potter said, although he started blushing furiously.
“Well, there must have been something, Potter. The Dark Lord didn’t just pull this plan out of his arse.”
Looking extremely embarrassed and avoiding everyone’s eyes, Potter mumbled, “Well…I mean…maybe I think about it sometimes…”
“We all think about blondes sometimes, mate,” said Weasley.
Granger kicked him again.
“Ow!”
McGonagall interrupted. “What concerns me more is how You-Know-Who was able to get past Harry’s shields.”
It was obviously worrying Potter, too, so much so that he stopped blushing. Everyone turned to look at Severus.
“Even the strongest of Occlumency can fracture under stress,” Severus said, “particularly when the subject is sleeping. Nightmares and other particularly vivid dreams can create cracks in the shield. And those cracks are only aggravated by the use of alcohol or other mind-altering substances.”
Weasley nodded. “Must’ve been that night a couple weeks ago when the raid went south and we got totally pissed afterwards -”
Granger kicked him a third time.
“Bloody hell, Hermione, stop that!”
“I’ll stop kicking you when you stop acting like an idiot!” she retorted. She was really starting to grow on Draco.
“So, what, I have one ambiguous dream when I’m drunk and Voldemort stakes his entire battle plan on it?” Potter said in disbelief.
“He’s done more ridiculous things,” said Draco, although privately he thought this one rather topped the list.
“And you’re okay with this?”
“Do I seem okay with this?” Draco shook his head in disgust. “I’m not. But I’m willing to do what I have to. I want this war over as much as you do.”
Potter nodded, then looked at Severus. “Are you okay with this?”
Severus tensed, and so did Draco. Although everyone present was aware of Severus and Draco’s relationship, nobody ever, ever talked about it. Potter was breaking an unwritten rule by bringing it up.
“That is irrelevant,” Severus said flatly. “This plan could end the war in a matter of weeks.”
“That’s true,” Granger agreed. “We’re close to Hufflepuff’s cup, Harry, and after that there’s just Nagini. If we can lull You-Know-Who into a false sense of security, we can get him and the snake at the same time and it’ll all be over.”
Potter looked to McGonagall and Shacklebolt for their opinions.
McGonagall said, “I must admit that I have reservations. But given the potential benefits…” She pursed her lips. “As long as you are both completely willing, I’ll support it.”
“Kingsley?” Potter asked.
Shacklebolt sat for a moment in contemplative silence, his inscrutable dark eyes reminding Draco of Severus’. When he finally spoke, it was to Draco, not Potter. “Before I approve or disapprove, there’s a question I’d like to ask you, Mr. Malfoy.”
Draco raised his eyebrows.
“How would you do it?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“This plan’s success will depend on you and Harry being able to convincingly fake a seduction, which means that you will have to act exactly as you would if you were truly on You-Know-Who’s side. What I want to know is this: if you weren’t an Order spy, if you were trying to seduce Harry for real in order to gain his trust, how would you do it?”
Draco blinked. In the hours since the Dark Lord had announced his plan, Draco hadn’t been able to think of anything else. He’d thought of the logistics of it, of the innumerable ways it could fail, of how awful it would be to have sex with Potter…
But not once had he thought of how he’d actually pull it off in the first place.
Shacklebolt was right. Severus would be taking copies of Draco’s memories of the “seduction” to the Dark Lord for review, and the Dark Lord was too talented a Legilimens to be fooled by fabricated or altered memories. Draco and Potter would have to act out certain scenes for real - it was the only way. If the memories were less than completely convincing, the Dark Lord would know, and the entire plan would fall apart.
Draco shook his head a little to keep his thoughts on track and refocused on Shacklebolt’s question. If Potter were his enemy and Draco wanted to seduce him, how would he go about it?
The six others at the table were looking at him expectantly. Draco studied Potter’s face and thought about what he knew about the man.
“Potter has a saviour complex,” he said slowly, mostly just thinking aloud. “He needs to be needed, which means he’s attracted to vulnerability and to people who need to be rescued or saved. The story about my parents being murdered would help, because his parents were murdered by the same man. I’d also make sure that when I came to him I at least appeared to be badly injured, because it would lower his defenses and trigger his protective instincts.”
Draco glanced at Shacklebolt, but the man’s face was expressionless. Potter, for his part, looked slightly taken aback.
“Our history and my personality make the situation more complicated,” Draco continued, “because we’re supposed to be enemies, and anybody who knows me at all knows I hate to show weakness in front of anyone, especially people I hate. I would be forced to walk a fine line between presenting myself as vulnerable and in need of saving while also pretending to hate myself for that same vulnerability. Anything less would seem out of character and make Potter suspicious. Basically, given the complications of the situation, the only way for me to convincingly seduce Potter would be with a great show of reluctance - perhaps even making it seem like it had been his idea all along.”
By the time Draco had finished speaking, Potter, Weasley, and Granger were all staring at him with open mouths, and McGonagall’s eyebrows had climbed into her hairline. Severus’ expression had changed little, but Draco knew how to read him well enough to know that he approved, which, as always, gave Draco a warm glow.
Shacklebolt smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I agree. And you can count on my support.”
Draco inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“That was weird,” Weasley said, then flinched as if he expected Granger to kick him again - which she didn’t, probably because it seemed that she agreed.
A brief silence descended over the table, which was broken by Potter clearing his throat.
“Right,” he said. “Now that Malfoy knows how we’re going to do it, let’s talk about what it’s going to take to get this done.”
***
The meeting lasted several more hours, and it was late by the time Draco and Severus returned to Spinner’s End. Yet neither of them had any intention of sleeping.
Their lovemaking was slow and languid, which was uncommon for them. Usually they both preferred sex to be fast and hard - rough, even. But the mood was different tonight. Draco needed to feel Severus against every inch of his skin, and Severus seemed to feel a similar need. He touched and tasted every part of Draco from his head to his feet, moving unhurriedly, before finally sliding inside Draco’s body and taking him gently, rocking back and forth within him.
It went on forever. Draco tightened his legs around Severus’ waist, his hands roaming over every part of Severus’ skin that he could reach. The light from the candles was low, but it was enough for Draco to see the concentration on Severus’ face, the intensity in the eyes that looked back into his own. Severus’ magic washed over Draco in steady waves, somehow comforting and arousing at the same time.
Draco couldn’t hold himself back anymore, and he climaxed with a soft cry. Severus followed him seconds later, burying his face in the crook of Draco’s neck to muffle his own deep groan.
Afterwards, as they lay warm and sated in sticky sheets, they said the words to each other that they rarely spoke aloud. Unspoken but inescapable was the knowledge that what happened tomorrow could change things between them forever.
Perhaps even tear them apart.
***
“Absolutely not, Severus. Are you mad?”
“There is no other way to completely ensure your safety -”
“There’s also no other way to completely ensure that the plan fails before it even begins,” Draco shot back. “Do you honestly believe that you could convincingly beat me into a bloody pulp?”
Severus clenched his jaw. “You will be anesthetized.”
“You know that wouldn’t matter to you. All you’d see would be yourself beating your defenseless lover. You’d either finish it prematurely or you’d see it all the way through and hate yourself forever. I won’t have it.”
Severus glared at him, and Draco glared right back. Perhaps it would have been enough to get him to back down a few years ago, but they had been through too much together for Draco to be cowed by an angry look these days.
The Dark Lord had been very pleased with Draco’s idea of going to Potter badly injured, and he’d immediately given his approval. All that remained was for someone to administer the actual beating - with Draco numb to the pain, of course. It would be foolish for him to go into enemy territory truly incapacitated; it was imperative that he be able to think clearly and keep his wits about him.
Draco hadn’t anticipated Severus’ idiocy in wanting to be the one to beat him. He knew where it came from - Severus didn’t trust anyone else not to damage Draco irreparably. But Draco also knew that it was one of the worst ideas Severus had ever had. He came from a past scarred by domestic violence, and he already struggled with self-loathing as it was. Beating Draco, even if Draco couldn’t feel it, would simply be too much for Severus to handle.
“If you will not allow me to do it myself, then I will at least be present to supervise,” said Severus.
“Really,” Draco drawled, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re just going to stand there calmly and watch while someone else - Yaxley, perhaps - hurts me? Without attempting to intervene?”
Severus made a noise of frustration. Draco put a hand on his arm.
“Severus,” he said softly, “you care too much for me to be involved in this. I’ll get my father to supervise. He’s colder than you are and it won’t affect him as much, but he still won’t let them go too far.”
A brief struggle played out over Severus’ face before he finally relented. “If your father is there, I will stay away.”
“Thank you.” Draco slid his arms around Severus’ neck and kissed him briefly. “I’ll be fine, you know. I won’t feel a thing, thanks to your potion.”
“I know. I only -”
Instead of finishing his thought, Severus gripped Draco’s hips and pulled their bodies flush together, his mouth coming down on Draco’s with unexpected intensity. Draco moaned into the consuming kiss, returning it with equal passion until he couldn’t breathe.
They broke the kiss, both of them panting. Draco was already hard, and he could feel Severus even through their thick robes. As always, the thought that Severus Snape, of all people, wanted him that badly made Draco dizzy.
He forced himself to take a step back, away from the intoxicating heat of Severus’ body. They simply didn’t have time for another round right now, no matter how much they both might want it.
Severus came to the same conclusion. He drew himself up and took a deep breath, drawing his wand to remove the tell-tale swelling from both their mouths. He picked a vial up off his worktable and handed it to Draco.
“Drink the entire thing,” he said. “It will prevent you from feeling any pain, but it will not make you completely numb. You will still be able to feel any other physical sensation. It may also make you a bit lightheaded.”
“All right,” said Draco. They locked eyes, and for a moment, Draco could see how truly frightened Severus was for him.
The expression disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “I will come and get you when they have finished,” Severus said stiffly.
***
It turned out to be Yaxley who did it, after all, along with Macnair. Draco wasn’t surprised - they were the Dark Lord’s two most skilled torturers - but he was doubly glad that he had talked Severus into not attending.
As Lucius watched from a chair set against the wall in the Manor’s library, Yaxley and Macnair administered an expert beating that was designed to look horrific and hold up to a medical examination, but would still be easily healed and leave no lasting marks if properly treated.
It was odd, being tortured under anesthesia. Draco could feel the pressure of every one of Yaxley’s blows, but he couldn’t feel the pain. He felt the heat of Macnair’s curses, but they didn’t actually hurt. The discrepancy caused a strange disconnect between his mind and his body, and he did indeed start to feel lightheaded - though whether it was from the effects of the potion or if it was just psychological, Draco didn’t know.
Yaxley and Macnair had taken off their robes for the beating, and to Draco’s disgust, Yaxley’s massive erection was clearly visible underneath his trousers. Yaxley only ever used his hands instead of magic while torturing if he was getting off on it. Now he had his long-awaited chance to get his hands on Draco’s body, and it seemed he wasn’t going to let that go to waste. Draco’s skin crawled wherever Yaxley touched him, and he did his best to avoid looking at the pervert at all, mostly to avoid the leers Yaxley kept giving him.
Instead, Draco focused on his father. Lucius observed the proceedings impassively, seemingly no more moved than if he’d been watching a game of croquet. Yet every now and then, Draco saw in his eyes a brief flicker of some unnamable emotion.
Regret, perhaps. Unhappiness. Or, knowing Lucius, it could have just been indigestion.
Draco hadn’t been lying when he’d said that Lucius was colder than Severus. He was old enough now to know that although his father loved him in his own way, there was something important missing there - something that allowed Lucius to watch innocent people being tortured without flinching, without feeling. Although Severus was good at pretending that he had that same quality, it wasn’t true. He felt the pain of every wound he inflicted. Still, he would have been able to watch this beating with the same lack of reaction as Lucius, had the victim been anyone but Draco.
Draco was Severus’ greatest - perhaps only - weakness. That knowledge both thrilled and terrified him.
Macnair sent one final curse sizzling over Draco’s skin and lowered his wand. “I think that’s enough.”
Yaxley seemed disappointed, but he stepped back and looked Draco over with a critical eye. “Will it be enough to garner Potter’s sympathy?” he asked dubiously.
“The boy looks like he’s been trampled by hippogriffs,” Macnair snorted. “Anyway, it’s as much as we can do without causing permanent or internal damage.”
Yaxley glanced over his shoulder. “Want to take a look, Lucius?” he said with poisonous sweetness.
Ignoring Yaxley’s tone, Lucius stood and walked over to where Draco lay on the floor, bruised and bleeding. “Well done, gentlemen,” he said. “My compliments on your technique.”
Draco almost laughed. It appeared there was a bit of the old Lucius left, after all.
Yaxley knelt by Draco’s side and ran a hand over his torn and bloodstained shirt, through which significant portions of his bare chest were visible. Wistfully, Yaxley said, “He didn’t even scream.”
Draco knocked Yaxley’s hand aside with his mostly undamaged right arm. “That’s because it didn’t hurt, you idiot,” he tried to say, but the words came out slurred and almost unintelligible. There was something wrong with his jaw.
“Ah, yes,” said Yaxley, moving his hand to Draco’s cheek and then trailing his fingers over Draco’s lips. “I wouldn’t try to speak, if I were you. Your jaw’s been dislocated.”
Draco jerked his head away. Yaxley’s mockingly gentle touch nauseated him.
“I believe it’s time to send for Severus,” Lucius said pointedly.
Yaxley stood with a sigh, giving Draco’s beaten body one more longing look. Draco was certain the man would be wanking to the memory of today for weeks. His stomach lurched.
Once Macnair and Yaxley had left the library to retrieve Severus, Lucius lowered himself to the floor next to Draco. Draco struggled to sit up, but his father put a hand on him to keep him still. “It’s best if you don’t try to move,” he said. “You don’t want to risk aggravating your injuries.”
Draco nodded and tried to relax, staring up at the ceiling. His head still felt a bit floaty, almost as if he were having an out-of-body experience. He didn’t like it at all.
He was grounded somewhat by an unexpected touch to his forehead. Draco looked at Lucius’ face and was astonished to see honest concern creasing his father’s brow.
“Are you in any pain?” Lucius asked in a quiet voice.
Draco shook his head. Lucius sighed and continued to stroke Draco’s hair gently, even tenderly, his gaze becoming unfocused as he looked across the room in the direction of the door. Draco closed his own eyes, bemused. It had been years since his father had touched him this way.
A few minutes later, footsteps sounded in the corridor. Lucius pulled his hand away and managed to get to his feet just as the door opened and Severus stepped into the room, followed by Yaxley and Macnair.
Severus stopped short when he saw Draco. His entire body stiffened, a flash of pure, incandescent fury crossing his face before he managed to tamp it down, and Draco knew without a doubt that he had made the right decision earlier.
Yaxley, perhaps sensing Severus’ tension, said, “Sorry to break your toy, Snape, but orders are orders.”
“I am sure it was a great sacrifice on your part,” Severus returned coolly. He closed the distance between himself and Draco and looked down, his eyes empty and dispassionate. “You did make certain not to damage him irreparably, I trust?”
Yaxley opened his mouth to answer, but Macnair, who had more respect for Severus, cut him off with a glare. “Nothing’s been done to him that even a halfway competent Healer couldn’t fix.”
Severus flicked his gaze to Lucius, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod. He crouched by Draco’s side. “Can you stand?”
“I don’t know,” Draco mumbled. It was difficult to speak with his jaw out of place.
Severus frowned at Draco’s garbled speech, then reached out and lightly brushed his hand against the dislocated joint. His lips tightened.
“He won’t be able to stand,” Yaxley volunteered with poorly concealed satisfaction. “His right leg’s broken in at least two places.”
Severus didn’t respond. Instead, his slipped one arm under Draco’s shoulders and another under his thighs, lifting Draco easily as he stood. Draco put his right arm around Severus’ neck, glad that he could move at least that part of his body without any problems. Yaxley and Macnair had been under strict instructions not to impair Draco’s usage of his wand arm in any way.
“Inform the Dark Lord that I am taking Draco to Grimmauld Place,” Severus said to Lucius, ignoring the other two men completely.
“How will you convince Potter to allow him through the wards?”
“It should not be difficult. One look at Draco in this state may be enough.”
Lucius made a noise of agreement and stepped aside. As Severus strode from the room with Draco in his arms, Draco realized that he had no idea how severe his injuries truly were. Without pain, there was no good way for him to gauge how hurt he was, and without a mirror, he couldn’t tell how bad it looked. It hadn’t seemed like Yaxley and Macnair had beaten him for very long, but from his father’s and Severus’ reactions, Draco was starting to think that he’d underestimated the damage they’d done.
Severus was silent as they travelled through the Manor’s front doors and out onto the grounds, heading for the imposing gates that marked the boundary of the anti-Apparition wards. Draco rested his head against Severus’ shoulder.
“How bad is it?” he managed to get out relatively clearly.
For a few moments, he thought Severus wasn’t going to answer. “Very,” Severus finally said. “Although it looks worse than it is, as was the intention.”
Draco lifted his head to get a better look at Severus’ face, but was distracted when he noticed a dark wet patch on the shoulder of Severus’ robes where his head had been resting. “My face is bleeding,” he said stupidly.
“Yes. Now hush. You will damage your jaw further if you continue to speak.”
They passed through the gates. Draco returned his head to Severus’ shoulder just before Severus Apparated them both to London.
They ended up on a street two blocks from Grimmauld Place, where the wards defending the Order’s headquarters began. Muggles could pass through the wards freely, but the only witches and wizards who could get anywhere near the house were those who had been added to the wards by Potter himself. Of course, Draco already had free passage, but the Dark Lord didn’t know that. He would want to see Severus’ memory of getting Draco through the wards - to gloat, if nothing else - so a bit of playacting was required.
As they approached the very edge of the wards, Severus bent his head to brush a kiss over Draco’s forehead. “Be sure to act properly wounded,” he said. “Remember, your parents have just been murdered and you have been badly beaten -”
Draco huffed in exasperation. They’d been over this a million times, for Merlin’s sake. He hated it when Severus treated him as if he were incompetent, even when he didn’t mean it that way. Acid words sprang to Draco’s tongue, and he regretted that his jaw wouldn’t allow him to say them.
Severus got the point anyway. He had drawn his wand - with some difficulty - before they had Apparated, and he now held it in his left hand, pressed against Draco’s shoulder. Without releasing his hold on Draco, Severus extended his wand to prod at the wards and alert Potter to his presence.
Potter could activate a two-way auditory link between himself and any point in the wards, as well as a one-way visual link that allowed him to see outside the wards without letting anyone else see him. From experience, Draco knew that Potter rarely utilized the visual link, as he found it disconcerting to see a disembodied image floating in thin air.
“Snape?” Potter’s voice crackled through the wards, sounding irritated. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You need to allow Draco Malfoy passage through the wards.”
“What? Are you mad?”
Draco was reassured to note that Potter’s acting skills, while not stellar, were at least reasonably convincing. This might not fail miserably, after all.
“He is badly injured and in need of immediate medical attention.”
“So take him to St. Mungo’s.”
“Potter!” Severus barked. “This is not a joke. Draco’s parents are dead, and he will soon follow them if you do not let us through.”
“The Malfoys are dead?”
Even knowing it wasn’t true, hearing the words spoken aloud made Draco’s blood chill.
“Yes. Draco is in grave danger.”
His voice reluctant, Potter said, “I can’t just put everyone else here at risk -”
“Look at him, Potter.”
There was a moment of silence as Potter activated the visual link. Draco did his best to look pathetic and near-unconscious from pain, hanging limply in Severus’ arms with his eyes closed.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Potter gasped, and he sounded honestly shocked. “What happened?”
“I will explain when we are safe. Open the wards.”
“Okay, okay, give me a minute.”
A few seconds later, the wards shimmered and then sparked with blue and white lights - a meaningless effect that was just designed to look good for the Dark Lord. Severus stepped through them without a problem and carried Draco the remaining blocks to Number 12.
Potter was waiting for them at the door. “Is he okay?” he said anxiously as he shut the door behind them.
“He needs a Healer.”
“I’ll Floo Pomfrey. She can be here in a few minutes.”
Draco fluttered his eyes open, then made a confused noise when he saw Potter, who looked very pale. He pushed at Severus’ chest as if he were trying to get away.
“Draco, stop,” said Severus. “You are safe here.”
Draco only increased his struggles, and Severus was forced to set him on his feet to avoid dropping him. Careful to keep most of his weight on his unbroken leg, Draco took a couple of limping steps towards the door before crying out in pain and pretending to faint - right into Potter’s arms.
He hadn’t warned either Potter or Severus that he was planning to do that, but Potter caught him, as Draco had known he would. There was a brief, startled silence that made Draco want to roll his eyes.
Then Potter lifted Draco into his arms, holding him in much the same way that Severus had. Something in Draco prickled with irritation at the ease with which Potter was able to carry him. When had Potter the underfed weakling been replaced by Potter the strapping soldier? It made it much harder for Draco to feel superior to him.
“Er…” Potter said in a way that reassured Draco that even if Potter was physically stronger than him now, Draco was at least still more intelligent. “I guess we should take him into the living room. I can use the fireplace to get in touch with Pomfrey.”
They walked the few metres from the foyer to the living room, where Potter gently laid Draco on the couch. Draco was careful to keep his body limp and unresponsive.
“Who did this to him?” Potter asked Severus.
“Death Eaters. The Dark Lord killed his parents for disobedience, and Draco barely managed to escape onto the grounds after they tortured him. I was able to find him first and bring him here without anyone noticing.”
“Good thing.”
There was a rustle and a hissing noise as Potter knelt by the fireplace and threw a bit of Floo powder into it.
“Madam Pomfrey, Hogwarts infirmary.”
A sleepy voice answered. “Harry?”
“Sorry to wake you, Madam Pomfrey, but it’s an emergency.”
Sounding more alert now, Pomfrey said, “Who’s been hurt?”
“This is going to sound weird, but…Draco Malfoy.”
All Draco could hear in response to that was flabbergasted sputtering. For all Pomfrey knew, Draco was an avid supporter of the Dark Lord.
“I can explain when you get here. But please hurry. He’s hurt very badly.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” said Pomfrey, and closed the connection.
Potter stood. “He’ll be okay,” he said to Severus. “Pomfrey can fix almost anything.”
“I am well-acquainted with her skills,” Severus said impatiently. “I need to return to Malfoy Manor before the others realize that I am missing.”
“All right.”
“Accompany me to the door.”
“Er…okay,” Potter said, confused.
Listening to the two men leave the room, Draco was confused as well. There was no reason for Potter to see Severus out - unless there was something Severus wanted to say to Potter that he didn’t want Draco to hear.
Potter didn’t return for a good five minutes, during which Draco’s anxiety increased exponentially. What could they possibly have to talk about that would take so long?
Draco took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. If he got any more worked up, he might trigger a panic attack. Without Severus here to help him, that could prove disastrous.
“Malfoy,” Potter said from the doorway, interrupting Draco’s unsettling thoughts. “You’re not really unconscious, are you?”
Draco opened his eyes. “No.”
Potter moved to sit in the chair next to the couch, angling it so he and Draco could talk face-to-face without Draco having to move. “That was a dirty trick,” he said, although he didn’t seem upset.
Risking further damage to his jaw, Draco said, “The Dark Lord will like it.” It was actually becoming easier to talk now that he was growing familiar to the feeling of the dislocation, and the words came out much more comprehensibly than he’d been able to manage before.
Potter made a face. “How about a warning next time?”
“No,” Draco said. When Potter raised his eyebrows, Draco added, “I can’t tell you everything I’m going to do before I do it. I need your reactions to be as genuine as possible. And in case you don’t know this about yourself, you’re not the world’s best liar.”
Potter rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it.
Trying to sound uninterested, Draco asked, “What did Severus say to you?”
To Draco’s apprehension, Potter started blushing. “Nothing important,” he said, totally unconvincingly.
“If that’s any indication of the skill with which you’re going to handle this mission, we may as well offer ourselves up to the Dark Lord now.”
“Come on, Malfoy.” Potter sighed. “I’m going to have sex with his boyfriend. What do you think he said to me?”
Draco was horrified, and for more than one reason. “Boyfriend? I’m not…he isn’t…we don’t use that term.” He could only imagine how appalled Severus would be if he heard Potter referring to their relationship in such a way.
“Lover, then. Whatever. Does it really matter?” Potter shifted in his seat. “He’s just protective of you, that’s all. And he gave me your wand. I’ll give it to you tomorrow, if that’s all right. We don’t want Pomfrey wondering why I let you keep it.”
“Fine,” Draco said. He had the distinct impression that Potter wasn’t telling him everything, but the sound of footsteps kept him from pursuing it. The Floo in the basement kitchen was the only one that was equipped for travel as well as communication; Madam Pomfrey must have arrived.
Potter heard it, too, and they both fell silent. Draco closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles. This would be easier on everyone if he didn’t have to actually talk to Pomfrey.
She burst into the room a second later, exclaiming in honest dismay over Draco’s condition. While Pomfrey worked on the injuries, Potter explained to her what had happened.
“Poor child,” Pomfrey clucked as she mended Draco’s broken ribs. “You’re all far too young to be dealing with such things.”
It took much longer for Pomfrey to heal Draco than it had taken Yaxley and Macnair to beat him, and the tedium of the situation was only increased by the inane chatter between her and Potter. To distract himself, Draco thought about what Severus was doing now - probably showing the memory of Draco’s successful infiltration to the Dark Lord. Draco hoped the Dark Lord was pleased; Severus didn’t recover well from a bout of Cruciatus when Draco wasn’t there to care for him.
They had been separated for less than an hour, but Draco’s throat already ached with missing Severus. For the past two years, they had never been apart for more than a couple of days at a time. His absence created an emptiness in Draco that felt almost like hunger.
Pomfrey finally finished her work and left. She didn’t know it, but her parting admonition for Potter to “Take care of that boy” actually worked in their favour. Had the situation been real, Potter would have been more likely to care for Draco if a trusted friend advised him to. Draco made a mental note to have Severus show the Dark Lord that particular memory.
“How do you feel?” Potter asked once Pomfrey had safely Flooed back to Hogwarts.
Draco sat up gingerly, testing out his limbs. They all worked as they should. “Fine. Tired.”
“Should we leave the rest until tomorrow?”
“No,” said Draco. “We have to do it tonight. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s your call.” Potter stood up from his chair. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’re staying.”
***
The room Draco was staying in was conveniently located a few doors away from Potter’s own. He slid between the sheets of the comfortable bed, fighting exhaustion. They only needed one more memory, and then he could sleep.
Draco settled back against the pillows and closed his eyes, waiting until Potter had pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat in it before speaking. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.”
Vulnerable but not weak. Draco focused on his goal, determined to get this right the first time.
He took a sharp breath and opened his eyes, gaze darting around the room before landing on Potter. “What…where…Potter?”
Potter straightened up. “It’s all right, Malfoy. You’re safe.”
Shaking his head in confusion, Draco said, “I don’t…Where am I?”
“The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Snape brought you here.”
Draco made his breaths come gradually faster, so that they sounded panicky. “Why would he do that?”
Potter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes intent on Draco’s face. “Do you remember what happened?” he asked.
“I…” Draco blinked and looked away, frowning as if trying to search his memory. His eyes widened and he let out a sound of distress. “My parents.”
“Snape said Vol - You-Know-Who killed them. I’m sorry.”
Draco inhaled shakily and covered his face with his hands.
“The Death Eaters almost killed you, too. You’re lucky Snape found you first and brought you here.”
Dropping his hands, Draco glared at Potter through just the slightest hint of tears. “Lucky? My parents are dead. And I…” He looked down at himself, touching his ribs gingerly. “I was hurt.”
“I had someone come and heal you,” said Potter.
“Why? Why not just let me die?”
Potter looked taken aback. “I would never do that.”
Hence our current dilemma. Draco pushed the thought away and said, “We’re on opposite sides of a war, Potter.”
“Yeah?” Potter raised his eyebrows. “So you’re still loyal to the man who killed your parents and had you nearly beaten to death?”
Draco clenched his jaw, his lower lip trembling a bit. He refused to meet Potter’s eyes.
“That’s what I thought.” Potter suddenly stood. “Look, Malfoy, I don’t really give a fuck what you do. But the hard truth is that if you leave this house, they will find you, and they will kill you. If you stay here, you’ll be safe.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because sending you out there without a wand would be the same thing as killing you myself, and I don’t fancy myself a murderer.” Potter’s expression hardened. “But I swear, Malfoy, if you put one toe out of line, if you so much as even vaguely threaten a single person in this household, I will put you out on the street so fast it’ll make your head spin. Got it?”
Draco scowled and sat silently for a few moments, pretending to weigh his options. Of course, they had designed the scenario so that he had no options. “Fine,” he spat out.
Potter snorted as he headed for the door. “No need to thank me or anything.” He stopped with his hand on the knob and turned his head to look back at Draco. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on you,” he said warningly.
Instead of answering, Draco just rolled over and pulled the covers up to his chin. Potter left, shutting the door behind him.
Ten seconds later, he opened it again and poked his head back in. “Was that okay?”
“It was fine,” Draco said, too tired to even move. He sensed that Potter wouldn’t go away until he’d gotten some measure of reassurance, though, so he added, “You’re not as completely useless at this as I’d feared.”
Potter struggled between indignation and amusement before finally chuckling. “Thanks, I guess. Er…good night, then.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Potter left - for real, this time - and Draco was finally alone. He had only a minute to miss Severus’ presence beside him in the bed before he dropped like a stone into sleep.
Part Two