New Fic!
The longfic bunnies bit me!
Title: Damaged
Rated: R to NC-17, eventually.
Pairings: Many, including Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius and Ron/Hermione
Summary: Futurefic. Three years after Dumbledore's murder, Lord Voldemort has won the war. All those who opposed him are either in hiding or sold as slaves, including the famous Boy Who Lived. Draco Malfoy is not the only one who is disappointed and disillusioned with the outcome, but the return of a lost relative promises to change everything.
A/N: This chapter is written for prompt #87 on slash_100- Found.
Chapter 1
Draco watched idly as slaves stepped up and off the block. Hogwarts students who survived the attack on Hogwarts, Order members, Ministry officials who refused to submit. None of them interested him. He was here only because the Dark Lord deemed it necessary that Inner Circle members attend those auctions- it seemed to incur less and less rebellion in the slaves on the block, even if the few outbursts were more violent.
Pettigrew was announcing names and data on each new slave, his squealing voice turning from delighted to bored and back again. Every now and then, beady eyes turned to glance at a small, barely dressed figure curled in the corner of the room.
If anyone saw Pettigrew showing sympathy toward Harry Potter, it would be the end of him. Everyone knew he betrayed Potter's parents, but they had been his friends once, and Gryffindors do not let go of friendship easily.
It was pitiful, really, what had become of Potter. His glasses were long gone- he had broken them himself and tried to slit his wrists with the shards. He'd been brought up to Severus while he was teaching Draco how to make Veritaserum, and the wounds were so deep that he'd nearly died regardless of Severus' skills. That was when the Dark Lord had decided that Potter would be kept in people's sight at all times, so that he would not be allowed to kill himself.
Draco sometimes saw him in the hallways. Gone was the strong spirited boy Draco had taunted in the halls of Hogwarts - the eyes were usually vacant, and the only emotion that ever appeared in them anymore was fear.
Granted, Draco didn't think he would have been any better off if he had been taken as the Dark Lord's pet. The Dark Lord was handsome now and not the hideous snake-faced creature of old, true, but while his appearance had returned to that of his glorious youth, he was still a monster that delighted in watching the suffering of others.
Distracted by the shivering form in the corner, Draco nearly missed the next name on the block.
"… and Remus Lupin, werewolf, aged 37 as well."
Lupin - his old DADA professor - was dragged forth and thrown on the block. He threw Pettigrew a dirty look before turning to help the man behind him stand up.
A thin, haunted face looked up; Draco's own eyes stared back at him. Somehow, those grey eyes caught his out of the crowd, and fixed on him. This man- could this man be a Black? Were there any Blacks left except his mother and her sister?
The answer came in the form of an anguished cry from the corner of the room. Potter, trembling as he pushed himself up on shaky knees, was staring at this man as if he was seeing a ghost. And then he was running, dodging past the guards straight up to the slaves block. Someone managed to grab him though, and Potter was left flailing as more guards swarmed the row, restraining the men on the block.
"Sirius!" Potter screamed, arms flailing as he was carried away. "No! Please! SIRIUS!"
When Harry was gone, the crowd around the block cleared. The black-haired man was kneeling, hair bunched up in his hands as they threatened to tear it off. Lupin was holding him, whispering urgently in his ear, and Draco suddenly knew why he came here today.
"The b-bidding starts at f-four thousand each," Pettigrew said shakily, determinedly looking at the crowd. The silence was broken not by a bidding, but by a cold, hissing promise.
"I'm going to kill you, Peter," Black hissed coldly, grey eyes focused on the chubby, balding man.
"Four," drawled Severus' oily voice a few seats down from Draco. "Lupin."
The murderous eyes turned to him, and Draco was slightly surprised to see Lupin grow pale. The man never struck him as being afraid of anything.
"Four, Black," said McNair somewhere in the back.
"Nine for both," intoned his Aunt Bella, a mad gleam in her eyes.
"Eleven, Lupin," Snape said in a seemingly bored fashion.
"Thirty," his father responded evenly, and the clasped hands on stage tightened. "Both."
And that wouldn't do, not at all. He couldn't let Mother's cousin fall into Father's hands- not after watching her cry after what happened to Andromeda. His hand rose in the air before he could think things through, though.
"Fifty," Draco heard himself say. "Black."
All heads turned his way, but Draco kept his face solemn and serious.
"Going once, going twice, SOLD! To Mr Draco Malfoy!"
Two large men came to drag his new slave away. To Draco's utter surprise, Black leaned forward and pecked Lupin's lips before he was dragged away to wait for Draco. Well, that explained his father bidding for a werewolf, at least.
Draco watched wordlessly as Lupin was sold to Snape- because Lupin apparently held no thrill for Father or for Bella without Black. The bidding was closed not long after that, and Draco slowly made his way down to the dungeon.
A house-elf led him to a cold, moist cell. In the middle of it sat the thin man- Sirius Black- his eyes dark with anger and pain.
"You're an Animagus," Draco said after a full moment of silence. The man simply nodded. "Show me."
"Do I look like an entertainment kit to you?" the man growled, and Draco raised an eyebrow.
"If you want to see your godson again, I suggest you show me your Animagus form," Draco said pleasantly.
It had the desired effect, of course. With a murderous glare, Black shifted into his canine form. Draco made sure to examine him thoroughly before nodding curtly and watching him shift back.
"Follow me," he said curtly, and Black nodded, rising in a surprisingly fluid motion and following Draco out of the Anti-Apparition wards without comment. He even grabbed Draco's arm as instructed for Side-Along Apparition.
Draco didn't pause when they got home- he simply led Black down the hallways into a small bedroom at the end of the first floor corridor. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling at the appearance of the portrait in the room. "Evening, Phineas."
"Good evening," the portrait greeted with a smile before the black eyes widened. "Sirius!"
"Hello, Phineas," Sirius said tiredly, sitting on the bed without waiting for Draco's permission. He then turned tired eyes on Draco and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Why did you buy me?" Sirius snapped, apparently losing patience. "What use am I to you?"
"You are family," Draco said coldly. "Traitor or not. I would not have another of my mother's relatives tortured to death."
A bony hand clenched in the fine linen sheets. "Romi?"
"And her Muggle-born, yes," Draco said slowly. "Nymphadora ran away somehow."
"Voldemort won," Sirius said darkly. "How did that happen? What happened to Dumbledore?"
"Our dear boy here killed Dumbledore," Phineas said dryly, and Draco whirled on the portrait.
"I did not kill Dumbledore!" Draco growled.
"Oh no, just let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts," Phineas said in the same bored tone. And Draco had nothing to say to that.
"I see." Sirius' voice seemed to drop a hundred degrees in temperature. "Why did they bring me back?"
"The Dark Lord has been looking for special artefacts he'd hidden and somehow misplaced," Draco said slowly. "Maybe they thought you knew where they were."
He didn't want to mention how upsetting Sirius' presence probably was for Potter- the expression on the man's face said he knew it well enough. He shook his head and looked up at Draco. "What do you want with me, er-"
"Draco," he supplied dryly. "What I want from you is very simple- several properties in my family's possession are blocked to us. Mainly Black property that should belong to my mother. The villa in the Riviera, the castle in Norway, and the ancestral home of her aunt Walburga- your mother- in London. The house-elves as well."
Sirius smiled a mirthless smile. "The properties aren't in my possession, as you well know. They’re Harry's."
"Harry's?" Draco repeated, shocked. "But Potter isn't pureblood! He can't even set foot in the castle!"
"Which is why he doesn't know about it," Sirius said calmly. "I believe you said something about seeing my godson?"
"Yes," Draco nodded. "That would take awhile, though. In the meantime-"
"I want to know what happened to the rest," Sirius interrupted him, and Draco nearly exploded. This man was here because of Draco's kindness, did he not get that?
"What about the Weasleys? Hermione? Moody? Shacklebolt?"
"Moody and Shacklebolt were killed in the raid on the Ministry," Draco said testily. He understood that it was difficult, but the Gryffindor was pushing it. "The Weasleys are all alive, as far as I know. Mother has the twins, and the scarred fellow and his wife went with Greyback-"
"Wait, what scarred fellow?" Sirius stopped him again, and Draco forced himself to remain calm. The man was worried, it was understandable.
"The older one- Billius, I think his name was," Draco explained, and Sirius paled, but Draco didn't leave an opening for further inquiries. "The others are scattered, except for the weas- er, Ron. My friend Blaise bought him not so far back. Granger is with Krum, as far as I know."
"Good, he had a crush on her, good," Sirius muttered under his breath. "Harry?"
"You're not going to like this," Draco warned, and continued when Sirius opened his mouth to inquire further. "Potter is with the Dark Lord."
"Goddamn it!" Sirius barked, thumping his fist against the mattress. "I have to get him out! I have to get Moony! I-"
"Have to calm the fuck down before you do something rash, you idiotic Gryffindor!" Draco snapped, and Sirius stared at him in shock. "Think about what you're saying. Potter is in the Dark Lord's hands, and Lupin is owned by his second in command. You would be committing suicide, rushing off to save them like that."
"I can't just leave him there!" Sirius snapped, and it didn't matter which of the two he was talking about.
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. Was this man insane? "Do you want to die again? Or worse, get them punished?" he asked the older man, who promptly shut up. "The first step is to get you to see Potter. We'll see how to go on from there."
Sirius was quiet for a long time before he finally spoke up, his tone wary and mistrusting. "You hate Harry. I remember that. And Narcissa married someone who will not tolerate a blood traitor."
"Keep in mind that you spent the last three years behind the veil," Draco responded coolly. "In that time my father was imprisoned and my parents' lives were threatened by the man my father supported for over three decades. I want that fucking half-blood down, and Potter is the best way to get it."
Sirius seemed content with this explanation, and Draco was oddly pleased by that. Sirius gave the room a cursory glance and pointed his steely gaze at Draco. "Can I shower, then?"
"When we have no company, this is your house as much as it is mine," Draco said, feeling generous. "You're not allowed to do magic, though."
"Conducting myself like a Muggle, got it," Sirius grumped and got up. He stepped through the door to the adjoining shower and Draco stared after him, shocked.
"This was his room during family gatherings every Christmas," Phineas said from the portrait, and Draco jumped. He'd nearly forgotten about him.
"It was?"
"Yes. He and I used to have the most brilliant rows," Phineas reminisced sadly. The sound of running water was followed by a relieved groan and the portrait chuckled.
"Phineas," Draco said after a moment, not taking his eyes from the closed door. "Do me a favour?"
"Yes?"
"Ask Dumbledore what the Dark Lord is looking for."
~*~*~
Next
Title: Damaged
Rated: R to NC-17, eventually.
Pairings: Many, including Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius and Ron/Hermione
Summary: Futurefic. Three years after Dumbledore's murder, Lord Voldemort has won the war. All those who opposed him are either in hiding or sold as slaves, including the famous Boy Who Lived. Draco Malfoy is not the only one who is disappointed and disillusioned with the outcome, but the return of a lost relative promises to change everything.
A/N: This chapter is written for prompt #87 on slash_100- Found.
Chapter 1
Draco watched idly as slaves stepped up and off the block. Hogwarts students who survived the attack on Hogwarts, Order members, Ministry officials who refused to submit. None of them interested him. He was here only because the Dark Lord deemed it necessary that Inner Circle members attend those auctions- it seemed to incur less and less rebellion in the slaves on the block, even if the few outbursts were more violent.
Pettigrew was announcing names and data on each new slave, his squealing voice turning from delighted to bored and back again. Every now and then, beady eyes turned to glance at a small, barely dressed figure curled in the corner of the room.
If anyone saw Pettigrew showing sympathy toward Harry Potter, it would be the end of him. Everyone knew he betrayed Potter's parents, but they had been his friends once, and Gryffindors do not let go of friendship easily.
It was pitiful, really, what had become of Potter. His glasses were long gone- he had broken them himself and tried to slit his wrists with the shards. He'd been brought up to Severus while he was teaching Draco how to make Veritaserum, and the wounds were so deep that he'd nearly died regardless of Severus' skills. That was when the Dark Lord had decided that Potter would be kept in people's sight at all times, so that he would not be allowed to kill himself.
Draco sometimes saw him in the hallways. Gone was the strong spirited boy Draco had taunted in the halls of Hogwarts - the eyes were usually vacant, and the only emotion that ever appeared in them anymore was fear.
Granted, Draco didn't think he would have been any better off if he had been taken as the Dark Lord's pet. The Dark Lord was handsome now and not the hideous snake-faced creature of old, true, but while his appearance had returned to that of his glorious youth, he was still a monster that delighted in watching the suffering of others.
Distracted by the shivering form in the corner, Draco nearly missed the next name on the block.
"… and Remus Lupin, werewolf, aged 37 as well."
Lupin - his old DADA professor - was dragged forth and thrown on the block. He threw Pettigrew a dirty look before turning to help the man behind him stand up.
A thin, haunted face looked up; Draco's own eyes stared back at him. Somehow, those grey eyes caught his out of the crowd, and fixed on him. This man- could this man be a Black? Were there any Blacks left except his mother and her sister?
The answer came in the form of an anguished cry from the corner of the room. Potter, trembling as he pushed himself up on shaky knees, was staring at this man as if he was seeing a ghost. And then he was running, dodging past the guards straight up to the slaves block. Someone managed to grab him though, and Potter was left flailing as more guards swarmed the row, restraining the men on the block.
"Sirius!" Potter screamed, arms flailing as he was carried away. "No! Please! SIRIUS!"
When Harry was gone, the crowd around the block cleared. The black-haired man was kneeling, hair bunched up in his hands as they threatened to tear it off. Lupin was holding him, whispering urgently in his ear, and Draco suddenly knew why he came here today.
"The b-bidding starts at f-four thousand each," Pettigrew said shakily, determinedly looking at the crowd. The silence was broken not by a bidding, but by a cold, hissing promise.
"I'm going to kill you, Peter," Black hissed coldly, grey eyes focused on the chubby, balding man.
"Four," drawled Severus' oily voice a few seats down from Draco. "Lupin."
The murderous eyes turned to him, and Draco was slightly surprised to see Lupin grow pale. The man never struck him as being afraid of anything.
"Four, Black," said McNair somewhere in the back.
"Nine for both," intoned his Aunt Bella, a mad gleam in her eyes.
"Eleven, Lupin," Snape said in a seemingly bored fashion.
"Thirty," his father responded evenly, and the clasped hands on stage tightened. "Both."
And that wouldn't do, not at all. He couldn't let Mother's cousin fall into Father's hands- not after watching her cry after what happened to Andromeda. His hand rose in the air before he could think things through, though.
"Fifty," Draco heard himself say. "Black."
All heads turned his way, but Draco kept his face solemn and serious.
"Going once, going twice, SOLD! To Mr Draco Malfoy!"
Two large men came to drag his new slave away. To Draco's utter surprise, Black leaned forward and pecked Lupin's lips before he was dragged away to wait for Draco. Well, that explained his father bidding for a werewolf, at least.
Draco watched wordlessly as Lupin was sold to Snape- because Lupin apparently held no thrill for Father or for Bella without Black. The bidding was closed not long after that, and Draco slowly made his way down to the dungeon.
A house-elf led him to a cold, moist cell. In the middle of it sat the thin man- Sirius Black- his eyes dark with anger and pain.
"You're an Animagus," Draco said after a full moment of silence. The man simply nodded. "Show me."
"Do I look like an entertainment kit to you?" the man growled, and Draco raised an eyebrow.
"If you want to see your godson again, I suggest you show me your Animagus form," Draco said pleasantly.
It had the desired effect, of course. With a murderous glare, Black shifted into his canine form. Draco made sure to examine him thoroughly before nodding curtly and watching him shift back.
"Follow me," he said curtly, and Black nodded, rising in a surprisingly fluid motion and following Draco out of the Anti-Apparition wards without comment. He even grabbed Draco's arm as instructed for Side-Along Apparition.
Draco didn't pause when they got home- he simply led Black down the hallways into a small bedroom at the end of the first floor corridor. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling at the appearance of the portrait in the room. "Evening, Phineas."
"Good evening," the portrait greeted with a smile before the black eyes widened. "Sirius!"
"Hello, Phineas," Sirius said tiredly, sitting on the bed without waiting for Draco's permission. He then turned tired eyes on Draco and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Why did you buy me?" Sirius snapped, apparently losing patience. "What use am I to you?"
"You are family," Draco said coldly. "Traitor or not. I would not have another of my mother's relatives tortured to death."
A bony hand clenched in the fine linen sheets. "Romi?"
"And her Muggle-born, yes," Draco said slowly. "Nymphadora ran away somehow."
"Voldemort won," Sirius said darkly. "How did that happen? What happened to Dumbledore?"
"Our dear boy here killed Dumbledore," Phineas said dryly, and Draco whirled on the portrait.
"I did not kill Dumbledore!" Draco growled.
"Oh no, just let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts," Phineas said in the same bored tone. And Draco had nothing to say to that.
"I see." Sirius' voice seemed to drop a hundred degrees in temperature. "Why did they bring me back?"
"The Dark Lord has been looking for special artefacts he'd hidden and somehow misplaced," Draco said slowly. "Maybe they thought you knew where they were."
He didn't want to mention how upsetting Sirius' presence probably was for Potter- the expression on the man's face said he knew it well enough. He shook his head and looked up at Draco. "What do you want with me, er-"
"Draco," he supplied dryly. "What I want from you is very simple- several properties in my family's possession are blocked to us. Mainly Black property that should belong to my mother. The villa in the Riviera, the castle in Norway, and the ancestral home of her aunt Walburga- your mother- in London. The house-elves as well."
Sirius smiled a mirthless smile. "The properties aren't in my possession, as you well know. They’re Harry's."
"Harry's?" Draco repeated, shocked. "But Potter isn't pureblood! He can't even set foot in the castle!"
"Which is why he doesn't know about it," Sirius said calmly. "I believe you said something about seeing my godson?"
"Yes," Draco nodded. "That would take awhile, though. In the meantime-"
"I want to know what happened to the rest," Sirius interrupted him, and Draco nearly exploded. This man was here because of Draco's kindness, did he not get that?
"What about the Weasleys? Hermione? Moody? Shacklebolt?"
"Moody and Shacklebolt were killed in the raid on the Ministry," Draco said testily. He understood that it was difficult, but the Gryffindor was pushing it. "The Weasleys are all alive, as far as I know. Mother has the twins, and the scarred fellow and his wife went with Greyback-"
"Wait, what scarred fellow?" Sirius stopped him again, and Draco forced himself to remain calm. The man was worried, it was understandable.
"The older one- Billius, I think his name was," Draco explained, and Sirius paled, but Draco didn't leave an opening for further inquiries. "The others are scattered, except for the weas- er, Ron. My friend Blaise bought him not so far back. Granger is with Krum, as far as I know."
"Good, he had a crush on her, good," Sirius muttered under his breath. "Harry?"
"You're not going to like this," Draco warned, and continued when Sirius opened his mouth to inquire further. "Potter is with the Dark Lord."
"Goddamn it!" Sirius barked, thumping his fist against the mattress. "I have to get him out! I have to get Moony! I-"
"Have to calm the fuck down before you do something rash, you idiotic Gryffindor!" Draco snapped, and Sirius stared at him in shock. "Think about what you're saying. Potter is in the Dark Lord's hands, and Lupin is owned by his second in command. You would be committing suicide, rushing off to save them like that."
"I can't just leave him there!" Sirius snapped, and it didn't matter which of the two he was talking about.
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. Was this man insane? "Do you want to die again? Or worse, get them punished?" he asked the older man, who promptly shut up. "The first step is to get you to see Potter. We'll see how to go on from there."
Sirius was quiet for a long time before he finally spoke up, his tone wary and mistrusting. "You hate Harry. I remember that. And Narcissa married someone who will not tolerate a blood traitor."
"Keep in mind that you spent the last three years behind the veil," Draco responded coolly. "In that time my father was imprisoned and my parents' lives were threatened by the man my father supported for over three decades. I want that fucking half-blood down, and Potter is the best way to get it."
Sirius seemed content with this explanation, and Draco was oddly pleased by that. Sirius gave the room a cursory glance and pointed his steely gaze at Draco. "Can I shower, then?"
"When we have no company, this is your house as much as it is mine," Draco said, feeling generous. "You're not allowed to do magic, though."
"Conducting myself like a Muggle, got it," Sirius grumped and got up. He stepped through the door to the adjoining shower and Draco stared after him, shocked.
"This was his room during family gatherings every Christmas," Phineas said from the portrait, and Draco jumped. He'd nearly forgotten about him.
"It was?"
"Yes. He and I used to have the most brilliant rows," Phineas reminisced sadly. The sound of running water was followed by a relieved groan and the portrait chuckled.
"Phineas," Draco said after a moment, not taking his eyes from the closed door. "Do me a favour?"
"Yes?"
"Ask Dumbledore what the Dark Lord is looking for."
~*~*~
Next