Ember to Ember DVD Extra for August 5
OK, here is DVD Extra for scrtkpr, frantic_mice, tree00faery, and jessiflash. Because scrtkpr asked for "Draco's interview under Veritaserum, DYING to see that." And the rest said ditto :)
This bit takes place the day Draco was arrested, when the four of them went to Brigid's Cross, the Dublin equivalent of Diagon Alley.
Hope you like it!
ETA: Forgot to say, this is completely unbeta'd, so any and all constructive criticism is very, very welcome! Typos, grammar, overall flow, whatever.
August 5, 2007
"State your name for the record."
"Draco Scorpius Malfoy"
"Date of birth?"
"June 5, 1980."
"Do you know why you were arrested?"
"Yes."
"Tell us for the record."
"I performed a restricted spell in violation of my parole conditions."
"Which spell?"
"Obliviate."
The Auror questioning Draco glanced at the parchment before him and nodded, apparently satisfied that his Quick-Quotes Quill was recording accurately. He nodded at the woman next to him. She leaned forward, her face poking out of the dimness of the Aurors' side of the table, and drew a sheet of parchment closer to the overly bright candles near Draco, skimming it briefly. Draco kept his breathing steady, taking the opportunity to steady himself, reminding himself not to let himself get overwhelmed by the feeling of being utterly exposed, cuffed to a chair and blinking in bright light as his opponents watched him from the dim darkness.
Hard not to get overwhelmed, though. He felt naked, despite - or maybe because of - the detainee uniform he now wore. Unable to move, to see clearly, to choose what to say or not say. They could ask him anything, and he could do nothing but answer.
It was best to be numb, Draco reminded himself. Don't feel sorrow over what had just happened, don't feel anger or resentment at the way you're being treated.
And above all, don't feel fear.
You're not going to Azkaban. Even if you do, it may not be for long. You Obliviated two people who were being hostile; you didn't start it, you didn't hurt them, you've done nothing wrong other than the Obliviate, and you have Harry on your side.
"Why did you perform the spell?" asked the second Auror.
"Because the people I performed it on were going to tell other wizards about my son."
"And why did you no' want them to do that?"
"Because I didn't want him to get hurt by being associated with me. And I didn't want him to find out about my past."
"What part o' your past?"
"My actions during the war. My family, my time in Azkaban."
"Why doesn't he know any of that?"
"Because I haven't told him about it."
"Why not?"
"He's only five years old. He's too young to understand."
"And keepin' yer secrets from him was worth risking going to jail again?" asked Auror One.
"No. But it wasn't the main reason I did it. I mostly did it to protect him."
There was a small rustle among the five Aurors sitting across the table from Draco, and Draco felt a small spark of unexpected relief. It was unnerving sometimes, the things that came out when you were under Veritaserum; things you hadn't even realized were true before they came tumbling out. But sometimes you could be pleasantly surprised. And he had to admit that, much like the Aurors across the table from him, he'd suspected his own motivations for Obliviating the couple at Brigid's Cross a few hours ago had been centered more on concern for himself than for Ben.
"What d'you mean, protect him?" asked Auror Two.
"I don't want anybody to know I'm his father. I don't want people to judge him because of his association with me."
The second Auror opened her mouth but the first Auror touched her arm and shook his head, showing her something written on one of the parchments before him, and she sat back.
So, Auror One appeared to be higher in rank than Auror Two. The other three, he wasn't sure about, but so far nobody here seemed to outrank Auror One. He glanced at the other three as they stared at him while Aurors One and Two had a quick conference.
"Why was Harry Potter there?" asked Auror One, turning back to him.
"We're friends. Our children are friends."
"Yes, we noticed," said Auror Two dryly. "Your e-mails have become more frequent."
"When did ye become friends?" asked Auror One.
"When we volunteered to liaison for Beltane at Uisneach Hill."
"Ye didna waste time sucking up to him," said one of the previously silent three other Aurors, a slightly overweight woman. She gave Draco a cynical half-smile. "We've all been waiting for you to start flaunting it."
"How would you characterize the relationship between you and Mr. Potter?" asked Auror One, stifling a yawn.
"We're a couple."
There was a sudden, ringing silence.
"I'm sorry, what?" Auror One finally asked.
"We're romantically involved."
A rustle went through the group.
"What... the... hell?" said the overweight Auror.
"You're... as in, you're sleepin' with him?" asked Auror One, his eyes boring into Draco's.
"Yes."
"With Harry Potter," he said flatly.
"Yes," Draco said, and had to suppress the urge to laugh at the horrified looks on all of their faces. Despite the deadly seriousness of the situation, it was rather gratifying to be able to throw them all off so completely.
"Bloody hell," muttered an Auror with a slightly receding hairline.
"Bloody hell!" echoed the overweight Auror.
"Why didn't we know this?" Auror Two asked, leaning forward and scowling. "We've been monitoring you-"
"Because I didn't want anybody to know."
"You knew you'd have to tell us at yer next questioning," she pointed out.
"Yes."
"Did Potter know that?"
"No."
"How lovely," sneered the Auror with the receding hairline. "Were you going to surprise him?"
"I was trying to figure out how to tell him."
"Figured that'd be the death-knell of yer little affair, didn't ye? He'd break up with you in a heartbeat."
"No."
"What?" asked Auror Two.
"No, he wouldn't."
"You don't think he'd be wee bit shy about being publicly associated with the likes of you?"
"No, not really," said Draco, once again feeling a small spark of amusement at their baffled expressions.
"He's no' exactly been shouting it from the rooftops, has he?" Auror Two pointed out.
"I asked him not to."
There was another small rustle of disbelief among the Aurors.
"You asked him not-"
"Bloody hell, I dinna believe this-"
"All right, stop there," said Auror One abruptly, standing up. "We're flyin' blind here. We'll get the boss, let him know what's going on, reconvene once we've got our act together. And get more Veritaserum." He headed out the door, motioning the others to follow him. "Flint, you stay behind," he said to the only Auror who hadn't spoken up yet.
"It's got to be some sort of bloody joke-" said one of the others as they started to file out.
Flint stared at Draco, his expression unreadable in the dimness of his side of the table.
Draco closed his eyes and breathed deeply, not sure whether to be grateful for the respite from their questions, or anxious that now he'd have no distraction from the dark thoughts that immediately surfaced as the door closed.
What would happen to Ben? Where was Ben now? With Kara? With Harry? It felt like about three hours since he'd been arrested. Who was taking care of Ben? What had they told him about where Draco had gone?
And who was going to take care of him until Draco came back? Would Kara take to fobbing him off on her girlfriends again? The women all seemed to see Ben as a mascot, and Kara was a good mother - when she had the time - but Ben needed Draco. He needed that connection to his dad, needed that connection to magic. What would happen to him without it?
How long was he going to be away from Draco?
He fought back the thought being away from Ben for a month. Two months. Six. A year. Missing irreplaceable time from his son's life. Coming out to find that Ben didn't need Draco any more, that he'd been replaced, that Draco didn't know what books Ben liked or what his teachers thought of him or what food he'd become fond of or what Ben's favourite show on the telly was-
How long would he go, missing Ben? Missing Harry, missing Alec, and even Kara? Who would wake Harry up at night when he had nightmares? Who would make music with Alec? Who would hold Draco when he woke up from a nightmare of Azkaban, only to find the nightmare had become real again?
And what if he never got out again? What if-
No. He wasn't going back to Azkaban. He had to believe that. He wasn't, he wasn't. And even if he was, he'd be out soon.
He kept his eyes closed, breathing steadily, concentrating on Ben and Harry and Alec and Kara. Holding his fears at bay with his memories, precious and warm, and all his own. Memories that reminded him that he was still a human being. That he wasn't just a thing to be questioned, a body to be locked away, but a person, worthy of caring and affection, worthy of respect and loyalty - all of which he had earned on his own, with no name or family or connections to bestow them upon him automatically.
Abruptly, Flint broke the silence.
"How long have you been with Potter?"
"Since May," said Draco, startled.
"Three months. And you kept it quiet," he said conversationally. "You lying little shit."
Draco kept his face impassive. "I wasn't lying about anything. I just wasn't volunteering information."
"Letter of the law, Malfoy. You know you need to keep us informed about any major changes in your life."
"I knew it would come out eventually, at my next interrogation."
"Don't try to-"
"I wasn't doing anything wrong. I'm allowed to date."
"You're dating Harry Potter. The darling of the wizarding world." He shook his head. "Fuck, we all thought it was just a ploy, getting your kids to be friends. Teaching your kid how to get in with the right sort of people."
"He's not like that," said Draco, stung.
Flint frowned in puzzlement. "Potter? Not the right sort?"
"No, my son. He's not like that. He wouldn't know how to try to - not to mention he's barely five years old. What did you think I was going to teach him?"
"I'll ask the questions here-"
"Are you even supposed to be questioning me?"
Flint smiled humourlessly at him. "Who's going to know I did?"
"Everyone, if I tell them."
"Will you?"
Draco blew out his breath. "No." God, no. The last thing he needed to do was piss off any Aurors, or get them arguing amongst themselves.
"Good." Flint smiled again. "So. What's it like, going out with the Saviour of the Wizarding World?"
"Good."
"Yeah? Who's the girl?"
Draco blinked. "What?"
"Who gets fucked?" asked Flint, and smirked as Draco drew in his breath in shock.
"He does," Draco said, feeling his cheeks heat up.
Flint's eyebrows went up. "Harry Potter gets it up the arse from you?"
"Yes," Draco said, wishing he could wipe the smirk off Flint's face.
"He ever blow you?"
"Yes."
"Is he good at it?"
"Yes."
"You ever blow him?"
"Yes."
"You enjoy that?"
"Yes." Draco looked away, humiliation flooding him as Flint's smirk grew.
"What do you like about it?"
"The sounds he makes. How he moves."
"Do you let him come in your mouth?"
And there was no respite. No way out of this; all he could do was hope the others came back before too long. "Yes."
"Swallow?"
"Yes."
"Like the taste, do you?"
"Not really."
"Why do it, then?"
"I like it when he does it for me."
Flint nodded. He wasn't being deliberately malicious, Draco realized. He was just bored, and pleased to pass the time by making Draco squirm. He was probably the lowest ranked Auror of the group, irate at being left behind to babysit Draco while the others discussed strategy, and wanted to throw Draco's own powerlessness in his face. As if Draco could possibly forget, handcuffed and overdosed on Veritaserum, blinking at the bright lights that hurt his eyes, as his questioners sat in near-darkness.
"So did you teach him how?" Flint asked, and Draco looked at him questioningly. "Potter. Did you teach him how to suck you?"
"He figured it out."
"Did his wife ever blow him?"
"Yes."
"Did he tell you about her? About what they did in bed?"
"No."
"Then how d'you know she did?"
"He never said she didn't."
"And does he like it when you-"
The door suddenly opened and the other Aurors came back in, joined by two more people in Ministry insignia.
"All right," said Auror One to Flint. "Shacklebolt says we can continue the questioning, but everybody's to get a Confidentum spell after we're done."
Flint grimaced in disgust. "You're joking."
"Fraid not, John," said Auror Two. "Shacklebolt'll decide what else to do after we're done here, but there were five of us in the room when he said it and at least three others who know now. It's no' to protect Malfoy, it's to protect Potter's privacy."
"You all right, Malfoy?" asked the overweight Auror curiously, and Draco wondered what had prompted the question. Wondered if he looked as nauseated as he felt. Whether that was just due to his standard reaction to Veritaserum, or whether it was due to Flint's questions, he didn't know, but he did know that there was no way he wanted to tell anybody else what Flint had been asking and making him say and fuck, his mouth was opening to answer the question anyway.
"No."
"Think he's thirsty," said Flint quickly. "You thirsty, Malfoy?"
Draco nodded in relief. "Yes."
"Get him some water," Auror One said absently, flipping through a sheaf of parchments he'd brought in with him. "O'Brian, go head," he said, nodding at Auror Two.
"When did you start dating Mr. Potter?" she asked.
"May 2."
"How did that come about?"
Draco sighed and just let the answers come, letting everything, bad and good, tumble out. As with all his previous interrogations, this was just a bloody waste of time, and so bloody humiliating. And as always, it had nothing to do with anything remotely threatening to anybody. But the Aurors had to do their jobs, protecting the public from dangerous offenders like him. And Draco supposed that in this instance, asking about Draco's relationship to Harry, and Alec, and the Weasleys, was all part of protecting the public - which, after all, included Harry and Alec and the Weasleys.
But God, how useless, going through the printouts of his e-mails to and from Harry, trying to pin down exactly where they'd gone and who in the wizarding world Draco had been in contact with… pointless, all of it. They'd already asked the relevant questions regarding today's incident: why had he performed the Obliviate, had he performed any other spells, brewed any potions, had he used any magical objects. And he'd answered them truthfully. The rest of this was just covering their arses in case anybody asked.
It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he reminded himself. Maybe this could help him stay out of Azkaban. Give him the chance to give the Aurors reasons to trust him.
He answered the questions, mechanically, struggling to keep the fear out of his mind.
"After the e-mails exchanged between June tenth and twelfth, you went to see Potter by yourself, then?"
"Yes. Alec's grandparents had Alec, and Kara had Ben. We spent the weekend together."
"It looks here like you were canceling your plans. You wrote 'Sorry, playdate's off,' and then 'Too bad. Maybe next weekend.' That sounds as though you weren't meeting each other that weekend."
"Yes."
"That was deliberate, then?"
"Yes. But it wasn't untrue. We never said we weren't getting together; just that the children weren't going to have a playdate."
Auror Two nodded expressionlessly and moved on.
And Azkaban kept crowding into his head between questions. Azkaban, with its greyness, its cold and hunger and boredom. Too many chances to regret everything he had ever done wrong in his life, burn over every unfairness he'd endured, too many chances to become the person he'd been when he'd finally left it - angry, cynical, bitter.
He still woke up with nightmares of Azkaban, of the inexorable death of his soul, crushed down by grey and cold and cruelty and indifference. Crushed by being treated as less than human, until it was impossible to not think of himself as less than human too. And now his nightmares just might be coming true.
Hold on to the good things, he reminded himself.
"Potter's family all know about you and him, then?"
"Yes."
"What do they think?"
He answered, imagining Ben's eyes and his smile, his small brown hand in Draco's, his trust and love. Harry's warmth and scent, Harry's arms around him. Alec's music touching his soul, his bright green eyes looking up to Draco with admiration and love.
And then he stopped thinking of them, because that just brought a wave of terror at the thought of never seeing any of them again.
Just be numb. Answer the questions. The times and dates and places they'd gone today and shops he'd visited and the things they'd bought-
"How d'you feel about Mr. Potter?"
"I'm in love with him." Oh shit.
He felt his heart stop as the room fell into stunned silence again, and a rushing, sick feeling spread through him like a flash flood.
It had just come out. He'd never thought it, never let himself think about it - it was part of a little box labeled "do not open," because they were just seeing how it went, and seeing where things led them, and seeing where they ended up, and a million euphemisms for Not Serious Yet and yet here he was and he'd said it and it had to be true, and the first time he'd said it - or even thought it - it was in a room for of hostile, suspicious strangers.
He kept his eyes on the floor, clenching his hands to stop their shaking.
There was a rustle from the Aurors. Somebody cleared his throat.
"He's found a way around the Veritaserum," said O'Brian finally.
Draco opened his eyes, meeting Auror One's gaze.
"I dinna think so," said Auror One slowly, his eyes calculating. "He never has before."
"That we know of," pointed out the overweight Auror.
"He's already answered a great many things that I'm sure he would've kept quiet about if he could have," said Auror One.
"Come on," said O'Brian uneasily. "The Malfoys have always been pretty clever at figuring out-"
"Not this one." The man pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You're in love with Potter, then?"
"Yes," Draco said, his voice hollow.
"Since when?"
Draco shook his head helplessly.
"Did you even know you were?"
"No."
"Yeah, looks like it surprised you as much as us," said Auror One, and for a split second there was the tiniest glimmer of sympathy in his voice.
"Jake, come on-" O'Brian began, and Auror One stood up.
"All right, let's go, another conference," he said. He glanced at the younger of the two Ministry aides who had joined them after the last conference. "Ellis, stay here with Flint."
Flint was staring at Draco steadily as the others filed out.
"In love with him, yeah?" he said as the door finally closed.
Numb. Just stay numb.
"Yes."
"When did you figure it out?"
"Just now."
"How's it feel?"
"Horrible."
Flint gave a short, humourless laugh. "Really? Why?"
"I didn't know. I didn't want to - it wasn't supposed to happen."
"Flint," said Ellis nervously. "I dinna think you're supposed to keep interrogating him when Garritt's no' here..."
"This isn't interrogating. This is just a little chat."
"But..."
"Look, Jake Garritt is a fine Auror, but I think he's been working too long with this piece of shit," Flint said, his voice grim. "He's started to feel sorry for him. So he's not going to ask any of the tough questions. You heard him. Nothing that'll embarrass Malfoy, nothing that might embarrass the great Harry Potter either." He leaned forward, staring at Draco. "I know this bastard, though." Draco frowned, blinking at him. Now that Flint mentioned it, he did look vaguely familiar, but Draco couldn't place him at all. "You wouldn't remember me. My brother's Marcus Flint. Your Captain on the Slytherin Quidditch team."
Draco's eyebrows went up.
"Yeah, I was leaving school as you were coming in, and I was in Hufflepuff, so I doubt you'd remember me, but Marcus had stories about you. Said you were an arrogant brat and a whiny little shit." He smiled grimly. "So. Tell me, why wasn't this supposed to happen?"
"Because I didn't want it to," Draco said, his heart sinking. Oh God, no. No, this was - he couldn't - this was too bloody painful and raw to deal with it with Flint. He pressed down panic, focussing all his will on his answers in a desperate ploy to keep Flint at bay until the others came back-
"And why is that?"
"A lot of reasons."
"Such as?"
"We live in different cities."
Flint frowned. "Seriously?"
"Yes."
"You're worried about commuting?" He chuckled derisively. "What else?"
"We're both single parents. It's complicated."
Flint's eyebrows went up, then he looked amused. "You can't fight Veritaserum, mate."
"I can try," Draco ground out.
"John-" Ellis began.
"See, Ellis, he's trying to keep his answers true, but vague and evasive. It's the only way you can hope to beat Veritaserum. It's a cinch to break through, though." He smirked. "What's your mother's maiden name?"
"Black."
"Who was your first friend?"
"Dobby."
"Who was your first fuck?"
"Theo Nott."
"Why didn't you want to fall in love with Harry Potter?"
"Because I shouldn't be with him in the first place," Draco said helplessly, "and I feel guilty enough about that, never mind actually falling in love with him."
Flint smiled, pleased. "Yeah? Why not?"
"Because I have to think of my son."
"See, it's all in keeping them off-balance," Flint said to Ellis, "so they can't even hope to control their answers." He turned back to Draco. "Your son? What does your son have to do with you falling for Potter?"
"Ben's... he's the one thing I've done right in my life," he said, and felt a wave of despair as his eyes filled with tears. "I can't mess that up."
Flint gave a harsh laugh. "The one thing you've done right? He's the half-blood bastard of a poofter exile, who doesn't even live with his mother. If that's not bad enough, I've heard that in the Muggle world being black is almost as bad as a Death Eater or a half-blood in our world. Why should it make any difference what else you do to bugger up his life?"
Ellis made a small noise of protest but continued to look away from them, lips pressed together and arms crossed.
"He's happy and he's healthy and he's safe. And he's not touched by any of this."
"'This'? You mean... the wizarding world and your special relationship to it?"
Draco nodded.
"Why would falling in love with Potter mess up-" Flint broke off. "Ah yes, if you hadn't fallen for Potter, you wouldn't have been spending so much time in the wizarding world, and you probably wouldn't have run into the fine citizens you ran into this afternoon, and you wouldn't be sitting here knowing that you're probably never going to see your son again. Right?"
Draco drew in his breath as a tear spilled down his cheek, and he looked away from Flint's mocking sneer.
Ben's eyes. His eyes as he watched cuffs go around Draco's wrists. Clinging to Harry as Draco was taken away. His small face going blank, as his memory of his very first day in the wizarding world was utterly wiped out. His excitement at seeing magical instruments, singing with Alec before a small audience of wizards, eating charmed sweets, going to broom shop with Harry - all gone. And all because Draco had been an irresponsible idiot and let himself believe in hope, and in Harry.
"So what did you expect, when you started to go out with Potter? Were you just looking for a babysitter for your son, with some casual fucking on the side?"
Draco shook his head. "I didn't know what to expect," he said hoarsely, an ache in his chest.
"Ever been in love before?"
"No."
"What bothers you more?" Flint asked, his voice softly mocking. "Being away from your son, or losing your one true love?"
"My son."
"Not exactly the romance fairy tales are made of, then? Why's that?"
"You don't have children, do you?" Draco asked, and Flint shook his head. "Your child comes first, no matter who you're in love with."
"Oh please." Flint rolled his eyes. "Harry Potter's a bad lay, then, right?"
"No."
"How d'you do him? On his hands and knees?"
"Flint!" said Ellis, going red.
"Sometimes." Ellis was looking away now, and Draco thought distantly that he should probably feel more shocked and embarrassed at his sex life being used for amusement before another witness, but at least it was better than talking about how he'd failed Ben.
Flint grinned. "Really. What about on his back?"
"Yes."
"He ever fuck you?"
"No."
"So he's the girl, then, and you're the boy. Wouldn't've have pictured that. And him used to be married and all."
"He's not the girl," Draco said impatiently. "It's just how we've worked things so far."
Flint tilted his head curiously. "You ever been buggered by anybody else?"
"No."
"Ever fucked anybody else, other than Theo Nott?"
"A few Muggles."
"Why didn't any of them do you?"
"I didn't want them to."
"Why not?"
"Didn't trust them enough."
"Why not?"
"They're Muggles," he said, squirming a bit at his own tone as Flit shot Ellis a smirking "See? Told you so" kind of look. Ellis's eyes narrowed and he stared at Draco, his sympathy for Draco very clearly waning.
This part of an interrogation was always so bloody embarrassing. He'd trained himself to feel comfortable around Muggles, and honestly wasn't a danger to any of them, but he would probably never be able to trust them as much as he trusted wizards and there wasn't much he could do about it. With his upbringing, he reminded himself, just being able consider them human had been a major accomplishment. And there was nothing for it but to just ride out the questions, try not to react to the inevitable glee of Aurors who thought they'd be able to embarrass him with his own involuntary prejudices, and hope it ended soon.
"Don't like 'em, still, do you?" Flint said.
"I like many of them," he shot back.
"Don't trust 'em, though."
"No."
"Kneazles don't change their spots," Flint gave Ellis a smirk. "Still feeling sorry for him, Ellis?" Ellis looked away. "See, Ellis here is a Muggle-born. One step up from pond scum according to your lot."
"I don't believe any of that any more," Draco said, and pressed his lips together.
Flint rolled his eyes. "Oh that's right, you're all reformed and new and improved," he sneered. "So how'd you end up with a son with one of them, then? And a woman, too. Was that on purpose, or did you just get confused?"
Draco sighed. "It happened because of a Wiccan ceremony."
"A what?"
"Muggle religious ritual. It's all in my records."
"You mean I can read about it? So I don't have to waste precious minutes asking you. That means I can ask other things, then." Flint sat back. "So, what's Potter say when he's on his back?"
The junior Auror flinched and touched Flint's arm. "John, that's really-"
"Shut up," Flint said, not taking his eyes off Draco. "Answer the question."
Draco closed his eyes, answering mechanically, trying to take himself away. Far away, where it didn't matter that Flint was asking, and Draco answering, all these questions. Draining his memories of their magic. Reducing the thrill and the joy and, yes, the love in them to Flint's idle curiosity, Draco's helpless recitation, and Ellis' mortified witness.
He kept his gaze averted as Flint skimmed the printout of the e-mails between him and Harry, the notes the other Aurors had made of their relationship, seeing which weekends they'd been together. As he asked Draco times, places, and Draco answered, and the questions kept coming, and Ellis squirmed in embarrassment as Flint forced Draco to retell moment by moment the first time he and Harry had kissed. The first time Draco had gone down on Harry and they'd been interrupted by Alec having a nightmare. The first time they'd had sex. The second time. The third time...
"How's he suck you?"
"What's he sound like when you suck him?"
"Which position d'you like the most?"
"What d'you use for lube?"
"Did he bleed the first time you fucked him?"
Just separate yourself from this, Draco told himself. Don't let it touch you. You're not really here.
Which had never helped much during other questioning sessions. And it wasn't helping all that much now.
"So, done anything else? Anything more... adventurous?"
"Like what?" Draco asked warily.
"S&M, rimming, fisting - you must know, you were a Death Eater. They were into all kinds of sick amusements, weren't they?"
"No."
"How about bondage? Blindfolds?"
"We've blindfolded each other."
"Ooh, kinky."
Not really. It's just a way to concentrate on other senses. But he didn't say it out loud, and Flint moved on, and he answered-
And he hadn't said it out loud, the part about blindfolding.
Oh thank God. The serum was starting to fade. Hopefully he could keep that fact from Flint for a little while.
"So, you like giving it to the hero of the wizarding world?"
"Yes."
"Sex with a famous man. Does that turn you on, his fame?"
"No."
"What does turn you on?"
"Magic."
"The fact that he can do magic?"
"Yes."
"What turns you on about it?"
"It's magic. I've been cut off from it for a long time. I needed it back."
"So now you've got it back. Or you did, before this last little stunt." He chuckled. "Have any fantasies about him?"
"Yes."
"About what?"
"Mostly just about things we've already done."
"How inspiring. Not terribly imaginative, are you?"
"We're not together all that often. I... miss him."
"Anything kinkier? Role-plays, things like that?"
"Not really." None that Flint needed to know about, anyway.
"Ever acted out any fantasies?"
Bugger. Now that he had the chance to lie, he really couldn't take it. He felt an almost overwhelming urge tell Flint nothing but rubbish, and then somehow have it come back and bite him in the arse, wanted to see Flint's face when he realized Draco had been lying, but he couldn't. He couldn't afford to. He couldn't make any enemies. What if some day all that stood between Draco and freedom, Draco and being able to return to Ben, was what they asked the Aurors who had been present today, and they talked to Flint?
"No."
"Let's go back to the blindfolding. Who suggested it?"
"He did."
"Really. Trusting soul, isn't he?"
"With me? Yes, he is," Draco said mildly.
"Aw, he trusts you. Think he feels the same way about you that you feel about him?"
"I... I don't know," Draco said, his voice low.
Flint smirked. "So, you want him to tell you he's in love with you too? You dream about him getting romantic, maybe getting down on one knee..."
All right, that was it. Enough was enough.
He started to open his mouth, then stopped. He blinked, put a startled expression on his face.
"Well?" said Flint impatiently.
"I... I think it's gone."
"What's gone?"
"The effect of the Veritaserum." He looked away from Flint, keeping his tone and expression as non-confrontational as possible. "It's out of my system."
"What?"
"I don't feel like I have to answer anything."
Flint squinted at him suspiciously. "What's your mother's maiden name?"
"Longbottom," Draco said flatly. "I told you, it's out of my system. I can lie again."
Flint sat back, annoyed. And Draco was struck once again by the thought that Flint wasn't evil. This wasn't even personal to him. He'd just been bored, and looking to have some fun, and now he looked a bit like Ben did when Draco took away one of his toys.
"All right, Flint and Ellis," said Auror One - Garritt, apparently - coming back into the room, skimming through a parchment. "Take Malfoy to the cells, then come rejoin us, we're going to be in the conference room..." he trailed off, scrolling down the parchment.
"What about the interrogation?" asked Flint, and Garritt glanced up at him absently.
"What? Oh, that. Yeah, we'll probably finish that later. Just get him booked and locked up for now." He started back out the door. "Don't forget to put an extra guard on him, yeah?"
Wait, stop, Draco wanted to ask. Am I going back to Azkaban? For how long? Can I contact my son? What's happened to him? Can I speak to a lawyer? Where's my wand? Did you snap it like you snapped my first wand? Can I contact Harry?
And there was no point in asking any of them. Nobody would answer; prisoners weren't entitled to answers. He stood up as Flint vanished the bindings holding him to the chair.
"Oh, Flint, strict prisoner transfer protocol," said Garritt, popping his head back into the room, and Flint waved his wand. Cuffs appeared around Draco's wrists, and shackles on his ankles.
"Let's go, then," Flint said to Ellis, nodding at him to precede Flint and Draco through the door. Not bothering to speak to or look at Draco.
Draco wasn't a person any more. He'd provided some amusement for Flint, but that was over now, and now Draco was merely a package to be delivered to the holding cells.
He'd acted in self-defence, Draco reminded himself as he was led down to the cells. He'd not caused any permanent damage, and he'd had good reasons for casting the spell he'd cast. And Harry would help. He might even be able to get others to help him - Granger and Weasley had seemed to like Ben well enough, and from what Harry had said, they had slowly come to accept Draco himself. Grudgingly, but they accepted him. Maybe they might help get him out of here soon.
And what if they didn't? What if all of this broke on the front pages of the Prophet, and Ben was targeted, and Draco's own life was exposed, and Harry himself got publicity? Harry hated publicity with a passion, and he would have to face it all without Draco there to help him, and without Draco there to counteract whatever other people said about him, or them. Without Draco there to remind Harry why they were together, despite what anybody else thought, despite what Harry's own family thought-
Oh God, the bloody Weasleys. Harry would no doubt be around them more than he had been in the last few months. He'd hear what they thought about the situation, hear what they thought of Draco, and all without Draco there to remind Harry of why they were together.
And what would happen if Draco came back to find Harry had changed his mind? That he was finally going to listen to the Weasleys, and break it off?
He took a deep breath. Well, then, he and Ben would just go back to the way they had been before. It didn't matter. They'd been happy enough before Harry; they'd be all right.
And that wasn't agony, clawing away at him at the thought of that.
"Right, in you go," Flint said, shoving him into the cell. He waved his wand and Draco's shackles and cuffs and clothing disappeared, and Flint gave him one last smirk over his shoulder and left him alone in the cell.
Oh God, Harry, please, Get me out of here, Draco thought desperately. Raise a big stink, use your influence, I don't care. Just get me out of here.
And take care of Ben. Please. Whether you get me out or not, take care of Ben.
***
Oh and, um, yeah, somebody also said they wanted to see what happened when Draco realized he was in love with Harry. Done!
This bit takes place the day Draco was arrested, when the four of them went to Brigid's Cross, the Dublin equivalent of Diagon Alley.
Hope you like it!
ETA: Forgot to say, this is completely unbeta'd, so any and all constructive criticism is very, very welcome! Typos, grammar, overall flow, whatever.
August 5, 2007
"State your name for the record."
"Draco Scorpius Malfoy"
"Date of birth?"
"June 5, 1980."
"Do you know why you were arrested?"
"Yes."
"Tell us for the record."
"I performed a restricted spell in violation of my parole conditions."
"Which spell?"
"Obliviate."
The Auror questioning Draco glanced at the parchment before him and nodded, apparently satisfied that his Quick-Quotes Quill was recording accurately. He nodded at the woman next to him. She leaned forward, her face poking out of the dimness of the Aurors' side of the table, and drew a sheet of parchment closer to the overly bright candles near Draco, skimming it briefly. Draco kept his breathing steady, taking the opportunity to steady himself, reminding himself not to let himself get overwhelmed by the feeling of being utterly exposed, cuffed to a chair and blinking in bright light as his opponents watched him from the dim darkness.
Hard not to get overwhelmed, though. He felt naked, despite - or maybe because of - the detainee uniform he now wore. Unable to move, to see clearly, to choose what to say or not say. They could ask him anything, and he could do nothing but answer.
It was best to be numb, Draco reminded himself. Don't feel sorrow over what had just happened, don't feel anger or resentment at the way you're being treated.
And above all, don't feel fear.
You're not going to Azkaban. Even if you do, it may not be for long. You Obliviated two people who were being hostile; you didn't start it, you didn't hurt them, you've done nothing wrong other than the Obliviate, and you have Harry on your side.
"Why did you perform the spell?" asked the second Auror.
"Because the people I performed it on were going to tell other wizards about my son."
"And why did you no' want them to do that?"
"Because I didn't want him to get hurt by being associated with me. And I didn't want him to find out about my past."
"What part o' your past?"
"My actions during the war. My family, my time in Azkaban."
"Why doesn't he know any of that?"
"Because I haven't told him about it."
"Why not?"
"He's only five years old. He's too young to understand."
"And keepin' yer secrets from him was worth risking going to jail again?" asked Auror One.
"No. But it wasn't the main reason I did it. I mostly did it to protect him."
There was a small rustle among the five Aurors sitting across the table from Draco, and Draco felt a small spark of unexpected relief. It was unnerving sometimes, the things that came out when you were under Veritaserum; things you hadn't even realized were true before they came tumbling out. But sometimes you could be pleasantly surprised. And he had to admit that, much like the Aurors across the table from him, he'd suspected his own motivations for Obliviating the couple at Brigid's Cross a few hours ago had been centered more on concern for himself than for Ben.
"What d'you mean, protect him?" asked Auror Two.
"I don't want anybody to know I'm his father. I don't want people to judge him because of his association with me."
The second Auror opened her mouth but the first Auror touched her arm and shook his head, showing her something written on one of the parchments before him, and she sat back.
So, Auror One appeared to be higher in rank than Auror Two. The other three, he wasn't sure about, but so far nobody here seemed to outrank Auror One. He glanced at the other three as they stared at him while Aurors One and Two had a quick conference.
"Why was Harry Potter there?" asked Auror One, turning back to him.
"We're friends. Our children are friends."
"Yes, we noticed," said Auror Two dryly. "Your e-mails have become more frequent."
"When did ye become friends?" asked Auror One.
"When we volunteered to liaison for Beltane at Uisneach Hill."
"Ye didna waste time sucking up to him," said one of the previously silent three other Aurors, a slightly overweight woman. She gave Draco a cynical half-smile. "We've all been waiting for you to start flaunting it."
"How would you characterize the relationship between you and Mr. Potter?" asked Auror One, stifling a yawn.
"We're a couple."
There was a sudden, ringing silence.
"I'm sorry, what?" Auror One finally asked.
"We're romantically involved."
A rustle went through the group.
"What... the... hell?" said the overweight Auror.
"You're... as in, you're sleepin' with him?" asked Auror One, his eyes boring into Draco's.
"Yes."
"With Harry Potter," he said flatly.
"Yes," Draco said, and had to suppress the urge to laugh at the horrified looks on all of their faces. Despite the deadly seriousness of the situation, it was rather gratifying to be able to throw them all off so completely.
"Bloody hell," muttered an Auror with a slightly receding hairline.
"Bloody hell!" echoed the overweight Auror.
"Why didn't we know this?" Auror Two asked, leaning forward and scowling. "We've been monitoring you-"
"Because I didn't want anybody to know."
"You knew you'd have to tell us at yer next questioning," she pointed out.
"Yes."
"Did Potter know that?"
"No."
"How lovely," sneered the Auror with the receding hairline. "Were you going to surprise him?"
"I was trying to figure out how to tell him."
"Figured that'd be the death-knell of yer little affair, didn't ye? He'd break up with you in a heartbeat."
"No."
"What?" asked Auror Two.
"No, he wouldn't."
"You don't think he'd be wee bit shy about being publicly associated with the likes of you?"
"No, not really," said Draco, once again feeling a small spark of amusement at their baffled expressions.
"He's no' exactly been shouting it from the rooftops, has he?" Auror Two pointed out.
"I asked him not to."
There was another small rustle of disbelief among the Aurors.
"You asked him not-"
"Bloody hell, I dinna believe this-"
"All right, stop there," said Auror One abruptly, standing up. "We're flyin' blind here. We'll get the boss, let him know what's going on, reconvene once we've got our act together. And get more Veritaserum." He headed out the door, motioning the others to follow him. "Flint, you stay behind," he said to the only Auror who hadn't spoken up yet.
"It's got to be some sort of bloody joke-" said one of the others as they started to file out.
Flint stared at Draco, his expression unreadable in the dimness of his side of the table.
Draco closed his eyes and breathed deeply, not sure whether to be grateful for the respite from their questions, or anxious that now he'd have no distraction from the dark thoughts that immediately surfaced as the door closed.
What would happen to Ben? Where was Ben now? With Kara? With Harry? It felt like about three hours since he'd been arrested. Who was taking care of Ben? What had they told him about where Draco had gone?
And who was going to take care of him until Draco came back? Would Kara take to fobbing him off on her girlfriends again? The women all seemed to see Ben as a mascot, and Kara was a good mother - when she had the time - but Ben needed Draco. He needed that connection to his dad, needed that connection to magic. What would happen to him without it?
How long was he going to be away from Draco?
He fought back the thought being away from Ben for a month. Two months. Six. A year. Missing irreplaceable time from his son's life. Coming out to find that Ben didn't need Draco any more, that he'd been replaced, that Draco didn't know what books Ben liked or what his teachers thought of him or what food he'd become fond of or what Ben's favourite show on the telly was-
How long would he go, missing Ben? Missing Harry, missing Alec, and even Kara? Who would wake Harry up at night when he had nightmares? Who would make music with Alec? Who would hold Draco when he woke up from a nightmare of Azkaban, only to find the nightmare had become real again?
And what if he never got out again? What if-
No. He wasn't going back to Azkaban. He had to believe that. He wasn't, he wasn't. And even if he was, he'd be out soon.
He kept his eyes closed, breathing steadily, concentrating on Ben and Harry and Alec and Kara. Holding his fears at bay with his memories, precious and warm, and all his own. Memories that reminded him that he was still a human being. That he wasn't just a thing to be questioned, a body to be locked away, but a person, worthy of caring and affection, worthy of respect and loyalty - all of which he had earned on his own, with no name or family or connections to bestow them upon him automatically.
Abruptly, Flint broke the silence.
"How long have you been with Potter?"
"Since May," said Draco, startled.
"Three months. And you kept it quiet," he said conversationally. "You lying little shit."
Draco kept his face impassive. "I wasn't lying about anything. I just wasn't volunteering information."
"Letter of the law, Malfoy. You know you need to keep us informed about any major changes in your life."
"I knew it would come out eventually, at my next interrogation."
"Don't try to-"
"I wasn't doing anything wrong. I'm allowed to date."
"You're dating Harry Potter. The darling of the wizarding world." He shook his head. "Fuck, we all thought it was just a ploy, getting your kids to be friends. Teaching your kid how to get in with the right sort of people."
"He's not like that," said Draco, stung.
Flint frowned in puzzlement. "Potter? Not the right sort?"
"No, my son. He's not like that. He wouldn't know how to try to - not to mention he's barely five years old. What did you think I was going to teach him?"
"I'll ask the questions here-"
"Are you even supposed to be questioning me?"
Flint smiled humourlessly at him. "Who's going to know I did?"
"Everyone, if I tell them."
"Will you?"
Draco blew out his breath. "No." God, no. The last thing he needed to do was piss off any Aurors, or get them arguing amongst themselves.
"Good." Flint smiled again. "So. What's it like, going out with the Saviour of the Wizarding World?"
"Good."
"Yeah? Who's the girl?"
Draco blinked. "What?"
"Who gets fucked?" asked Flint, and smirked as Draco drew in his breath in shock.
"He does," Draco said, feeling his cheeks heat up.
Flint's eyebrows went up. "Harry Potter gets it up the arse from you?"
"Yes," Draco said, wishing he could wipe the smirk off Flint's face.
"He ever blow you?"
"Yes."
"Is he good at it?"
"Yes."
"You ever blow him?"
"Yes."
"You enjoy that?"
"Yes." Draco looked away, humiliation flooding him as Flint's smirk grew.
"What do you like about it?"
"The sounds he makes. How he moves."
"Do you let him come in your mouth?"
And there was no respite. No way out of this; all he could do was hope the others came back before too long. "Yes."
"Swallow?"
"Yes."
"Like the taste, do you?"
"Not really."
"Why do it, then?"
"I like it when he does it for me."
Flint nodded. He wasn't being deliberately malicious, Draco realized. He was just bored, and pleased to pass the time by making Draco squirm. He was probably the lowest ranked Auror of the group, irate at being left behind to babysit Draco while the others discussed strategy, and wanted to throw Draco's own powerlessness in his face. As if Draco could possibly forget, handcuffed and overdosed on Veritaserum, blinking at the bright lights that hurt his eyes, as his questioners sat in near-darkness.
"So did you teach him how?" Flint asked, and Draco looked at him questioningly. "Potter. Did you teach him how to suck you?"
"He figured it out."
"Did his wife ever blow him?"
"Yes."
"Did he tell you about her? About what they did in bed?"
"No."
"Then how d'you know she did?"
"He never said she didn't."
"And does he like it when you-"
The door suddenly opened and the other Aurors came back in, joined by two more people in Ministry insignia.
"All right," said Auror One to Flint. "Shacklebolt says we can continue the questioning, but everybody's to get a Confidentum spell after we're done."
Flint grimaced in disgust. "You're joking."
"Fraid not, John," said Auror Two. "Shacklebolt'll decide what else to do after we're done here, but there were five of us in the room when he said it and at least three others who know now. It's no' to protect Malfoy, it's to protect Potter's privacy."
"You all right, Malfoy?" asked the overweight Auror curiously, and Draco wondered what had prompted the question. Wondered if he looked as nauseated as he felt. Whether that was just due to his standard reaction to Veritaserum, or whether it was due to Flint's questions, he didn't know, but he did know that there was no way he wanted to tell anybody else what Flint had been asking and making him say and fuck, his mouth was opening to answer the question anyway.
"No."
"Think he's thirsty," said Flint quickly. "You thirsty, Malfoy?"
Draco nodded in relief. "Yes."
"Get him some water," Auror One said absently, flipping through a sheaf of parchments he'd brought in with him. "O'Brian, go head," he said, nodding at Auror Two.
"When did you start dating Mr. Potter?" she asked.
"May 2."
"How did that come about?"
Draco sighed and just let the answers come, letting everything, bad and good, tumble out. As with all his previous interrogations, this was just a bloody waste of time, and so bloody humiliating. And as always, it had nothing to do with anything remotely threatening to anybody. But the Aurors had to do their jobs, protecting the public from dangerous offenders like him. And Draco supposed that in this instance, asking about Draco's relationship to Harry, and Alec, and the Weasleys, was all part of protecting the public - which, after all, included Harry and Alec and the Weasleys.
But God, how useless, going through the printouts of his e-mails to and from Harry, trying to pin down exactly where they'd gone and who in the wizarding world Draco had been in contact with… pointless, all of it. They'd already asked the relevant questions regarding today's incident: why had he performed the Obliviate, had he performed any other spells, brewed any potions, had he used any magical objects. And he'd answered them truthfully. The rest of this was just covering their arses in case anybody asked.
It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he reminded himself. Maybe this could help him stay out of Azkaban. Give him the chance to give the Aurors reasons to trust him.
He answered the questions, mechanically, struggling to keep the fear out of his mind.
"After the e-mails exchanged between June tenth and twelfth, you went to see Potter by yourself, then?"
"Yes. Alec's grandparents had Alec, and Kara had Ben. We spent the weekend together."
"It looks here like you were canceling your plans. You wrote 'Sorry, playdate's off,' and then 'Too bad. Maybe next weekend.' That sounds as though you weren't meeting each other that weekend."
"Yes."
"That was deliberate, then?"
"Yes. But it wasn't untrue. We never said we weren't getting together; just that the children weren't going to have a playdate."
Auror Two nodded expressionlessly and moved on.
And Azkaban kept crowding into his head between questions. Azkaban, with its greyness, its cold and hunger and boredom. Too many chances to regret everything he had ever done wrong in his life, burn over every unfairness he'd endured, too many chances to become the person he'd been when he'd finally left it - angry, cynical, bitter.
He still woke up with nightmares of Azkaban, of the inexorable death of his soul, crushed down by grey and cold and cruelty and indifference. Crushed by being treated as less than human, until it was impossible to not think of himself as less than human too. And now his nightmares just might be coming true.
Hold on to the good things, he reminded himself.
"Potter's family all know about you and him, then?"
"Yes."
"What do they think?"
He answered, imagining Ben's eyes and his smile, his small brown hand in Draco's, his trust and love. Harry's warmth and scent, Harry's arms around him. Alec's music touching his soul, his bright green eyes looking up to Draco with admiration and love.
And then he stopped thinking of them, because that just brought a wave of terror at the thought of never seeing any of them again.
Just be numb. Answer the questions. The times and dates and places they'd gone today and shops he'd visited and the things they'd bought-
"How d'you feel about Mr. Potter?"
"I'm in love with him." Oh shit.
He felt his heart stop as the room fell into stunned silence again, and a rushing, sick feeling spread through him like a flash flood.
It had just come out. He'd never thought it, never let himself think about it - it was part of a little box labeled "do not open," because they were just seeing how it went, and seeing where things led them, and seeing where they ended up, and a million euphemisms for Not Serious Yet and yet here he was and he'd said it and it had to be true, and the first time he'd said it - or even thought it - it was in a room for of hostile, suspicious strangers.
He kept his eyes on the floor, clenching his hands to stop their shaking.
There was a rustle from the Aurors. Somebody cleared his throat.
"He's found a way around the Veritaserum," said O'Brian finally.
Draco opened his eyes, meeting Auror One's gaze.
"I dinna think so," said Auror One slowly, his eyes calculating. "He never has before."
"That we know of," pointed out the overweight Auror.
"He's already answered a great many things that I'm sure he would've kept quiet about if he could have," said Auror One.
"Come on," said O'Brian uneasily. "The Malfoys have always been pretty clever at figuring out-"
"Not this one." The man pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You're in love with Potter, then?"
"Yes," Draco said, his voice hollow.
"Since when?"
Draco shook his head helplessly.
"Did you even know you were?"
"No."
"Yeah, looks like it surprised you as much as us," said Auror One, and for a split second there was the tiniest glimmer of sympathy in his voice.
"Jake, come on-" O'Brian began, and Auror One stood up.
"All right, let's go, another conference," he said. He glanced at the younger of the two Ministry aides who had joined them after the last conference. "Ellis, stay here with Flint."
Flint was staring at Draco steadily as the others filed out.
"In love with him, yeah?" he said as the door finally closed.
Numb. Just stay numb.
"Yes."
"When did you figure it out?"
"Just now."
"How's it feel?"
"Horrible."
Flint gave a short, humourless laugh. "Really? Why?"
"I didn't know. I didn't want to - it wasn't supposed to happen."
"Flint," said Ellis nervously. "I dinna think you're supposed to keep interrogating him when Garritt's no' here..."
"This isn't interrogating. This is just a little chat."
"But..."
"Look, Jake Garritt is a fine Auror, but I think he's been working too long with this piece of shit," Flint said, his voice grim. "He's started to feel sorry for him. So he's not going to ask any of the tough questions. You heard him. Nothing that'll embarrass Malfoy, nothing that might embarrass the great Harry Potter either." He leaned forward, staring at Draco. "I know this bastard, though." Draco frowned, blinking at him. Now that Flint mentioned it, he did look vaguely familiar, but Draco couldn't place him at all. "You wouldn't remember me. My brother's Marcus Flint. Your Captain on the Slytherin Quidditch team."
Draco's eyebrows went up.
"Yeah, I was leaving school as you were coming in, and I was in Hufflepuff, so I doubt you'd remember me, but Marcus had stories about you. Said you were an arrogant brat and a whiny little shit." He smiled grimly. "So. Tell me, why wasn't this supposed to happen?"
"Because I didn't want it to," Draco said, his heart sinking. Oh God, no. No, this was - he couldn't - this was too bloody painful and raw to deal with it with Flint. He pressed down panic, focussing all his will on his answers in a desperate ploy to keep Flint at bay until the others came back-
"And why is that?"
"A lot of reasons."
"Such as?"
"We live in different cities."
Flint frowned. "Seriously?"
"Yes."
"You're worried about commuting?" He chuckled derisively. "What else?"
"We're both single parents. It's complicated."
Flint's eyebrows went up, then he looked amused. "You can't fight Veritaserum, mate."
"I can try," Draco ground out.
"John-" Ellis began.
"See, Ellis, he's trying to keep his answers true, but vague and evasive. It's the only way you can hope to beat Veritaserum. It's a cinch to break through, though." He smirked. "What's your mother's maiden name?"
"Black."
"Who was your first friend?"
"Dobby."
"Who was your first fuck?"
"Theo Nott."
"Why didn't you want to fall in love with Harry Potter?"
"Because I shouldn't be with him in the first place," Draco said helplessly, "and I feel guilty enough about that, never mind actually falling in love with him."
Flint smiled, pleased. "Yeah? Why not?"
"Because I have to think of my son."
"See, it's all in keeping them off-balance," Flint said to Ellis, "so they can't even hope to control their answers." He turned back to Draco. "Your son? What does your son have to do with you falling for Potter?"
"Ben's... he's the one thing I've done right in my life," he said, and felt a wave of despair as his eyes filled with tears. "I can't mess that up."
Flint gave a harsh laugh. "The one thing you've done right? He's the half-blood bastard of a poofter exile, who doesn't even live with his mother. If that's not bad enough, I've heard that in the Muggle world being black is almost as bad as a Death Eater or a half-blood in our world. Why should it make any difference what else you do to bugger up his life?"
Ellis made a small noise of protest but continued to look away from them, lips pressed together and arms crossed.
"He's happy and he's healthy and he's safe. And he's not touched by any of this."
"'This'? You mean... the wizarding world and your special relationship to it?"
Draco nodded.
"Why would falling in love with Potter mess up-" Flint broke off. "Ah yes, if you hadn't fallen for Potter, you wouldn't have been spending so much time in the wizarding world, and you probably wouldn't have run into the fine citizens you ran into this afternoon, and you wouldn't be sitting here knowing that you're probably never going to see your son again. Right?"
Draco drew in his breath as a tear spilled down his cheek, and he looked away from Flint's mocking sneer.
Ben's eyes. His eyes as he watched cuffs go around Draco's wrists. Clinging to Harry as Draco was taken away. His small face going blank, as his memory of his very first day in the wizarding world was utterly wiped out. His excitement at seeing magical instruments, singing with Alec before a small audience of wizards, eating charmed sweets, going to broom shop with Harry - all gone. And all because Draco had been an irresponsible idiot and let himself believe in hope, and in Harry.
"So what did you expect, when you started to go out with Potter? Were you just looking for a babysitter for your son, with some casual fucking on the side?"
Draco shook his head. "I didn't know what to expect," he said hoarsely, an ache in his chest.
"Ever been in love before?"
"No."
"What bothers you more?" Flint asked, his voice softly mocking. "Being away from your son, or losing your one true love?"
"My son."
"Not exactly the romance fairy tales are made of, then? Why's that?"
"You don't have children, do you?" Draco asked, and Flint shook his head. "Your child comes first, no matter who you're in love with."
"Oh please." Flint rolled his eyes. "Harry Potter's a bad lay, then, right?"
"No."
"How d'you do him? On his hands and knees?"
"Flint!" said Ellis, going red.
"Sometimes." Ellis was looking away now, and Draco thought distantly that he should probably feel more shocked and embarrassed at his sex life being used for amusement before another witness, but at least it was better than talking about how he'd failed Ben.
Flint grinned. "Really. What about on his back?"
"Yes."
"He ever fuck you?"
"No."
"So he's the girl, then, and you're the boy. Wouldn't've have pictured that. And him used to be married and all."
"He's not the girl," Draco said impatiently. "It's just how we've worked things so far."
Flint tilted his head curiously. "You ever been buggered by anybody else?"
"No."
"Ever fucked anybody else, other than Theo Nott?"
"A few Muggles."
"Why didn't any of them do you?"
"I didn't want them to."
"Why not?"
"Didn't trust them enough."
"Why not?"
"They're Muggles," he said, squirming a bit at his own tone as Flit shot Ellis a smirking "See? Told you so" kind of look. Ellis's eyes narrowed and he stared at Draco, his sympathy for Draco very clearly waning.
This part of an interrogation was always so bloody embarrassing. He'd trained himself to feel comfortable around Muggles, and honestly wasn't a danger to any of them, but he would probably never be able to trust them as much as he trusted wizards and there wasn't much he could do about it. With his upbringing, he reminded himself, just being able consider them human had been a major accomplishment. And there was nothing for it but to just ride out the questions, try not to react to the inevitable glee of Aurors who thought they'd be able to embarrass him with his own involuntary prejudices, and hope it ended soon.
"Don't like 'em, still, do you?" Flint said.
"I like many of them," he shot back.
"Don't trust 'em, though."
"No."
"Kneazles don't change their spots," Flint gave Ellis a smirk. "Still feeling sorry for him, Ellis?" Ellis looked away. "See, Ellis here is a Muggle-born. One step up from pond scum according to your lot."
"I don't believe any of that any more," Draco said, and pressed his lips together.
Flint rolled his eyes. "Oh that's right, you're all reformed and new and improved," he sneered. "So how'd you end up with a son with one of them, then? And a woman, too. Was that on purpose, or did you just get confused?"
Draco sighed. "It happened because of a Wiccan ceremony."
"A what?"
"Muggle religious ritual. It's all in my records."
"You mean I can read about it? So I don't have to waste precious minutes asking you. That means I can ask other things, then." Flint sat back. "So, what's Potter say when he's on his back?"
The junior Auror flinched and touched Flint's arm. "John, that's really-"
"Shut up," Flint said, not taking his eyes off Draco. "Answer the question."
Draco closed his eyes, answering mechanically, trying to take himself away. Far away, where it didn't matter that Flint was asking, and Draco answering, all these questions. Draining his memories of their magic. Reducing the thrill and the joy and, yes, the love in them to Flint's idle curiosity, Draco's helpless recitation, and Ellis' mortified witness.
He kept his gaze averted as Flint skimmed the printout of the e-mails between him and Harry, the notes the other Aurors had made of their relationship, seeing which weekends they'd been together. As he asked Draco times, places, and Draco answered, and the questions kept coming, and Ellis squirmed in embarrassment as Flint forced Draco to retell moment by moment the first time he and Harry had kissed. The first time Draco had gone down on Harry and they'd been interrupted by Alec having a nightmare. The first time they'd had sex. The second time. The third time...
"How's he suck you?"
"What's he sound like when you suck him?"
"Which position d'you like the most?"
"What d'you use for lube?"
"Did he bleed the first time you fucked him?"
Just separate yourself from this, Draco told himself. Don't let it touch you. You're not really here.
Which had never helped much during other questioning sessions. And it wasn't helping all that much now.
"So, done anything else? Anything more... adventurous?"
"Like what?" Draco asked warily.
"S&M, rimming, fisting - you must know, you were a Death Eater. They were into all kinds of sick amusements, weren't they?"
"No."
"How about bondage? Blindfolds?"
"We've blindfolded each other."
"Ooh, kinky."
Not really. It's just a way to concentrate on other senses. But he didn't say it out loud, and Flint moved on, and he answered-
And he hadn't said it out loud, the part about blindfolding.
Oh thank God. The serum was starting to fade. Hopefully he could keep that fact from Flint for a little while.
"So, you like giving it to the hero of the wizarding world?"
"Yes."
"Sex with a famous man. Does that turn you on, his fame?"
"No."
"What does turn you on?"
"Magic."
"The fact that he can do magic?"
"Yes."
"What turns you on about it?"
"It's magic. I've been cut off from it for a long time. I needed it back."
"So now you've got it back. Or you did, before this last little stunt." He chuckled. "Have any fantasies about him?"
"Yes."
"About what?"
"Mostly just about things we've already done."
"How inspiring. Not terribly imaginative, are you?"
"We're not together all that often. I... miss him."
"Anything kinkier? Role-plays, things like that?"
"Not really." None that Flint needed to know about, anyway.
"Ever acted out any fantasies?"
Bugger. Now that he had the chance to lie, he really couldn't take it. He felt an almost overwhelming urge tell Flint nothing but rubbish, and then somehow have it come back and bite him in the arse, wanted to see Flint's face when he realized Draco had been lying, but he couldn't. He couldn't afford to. He couldn't make any enemies. What if some day all that stood between Draco and freedom, Draco and being able to return to Ben, was what they asked the Aurors who had been present today, and they talked to Flint?
"No."
"Let's go back to the blindfolding. Who suggested it?"
"He did."
"Really. Trusting soul, isn't he?"
"With me? Yes, he is," Draco said mildly.
"Aw, he trusts you. Think he feels the same way about you that you feel about him?"
"I... I don't know," Draco said, his voice low.
Flint smirked. "So, you want him to tell you he's in love with you too? You dream about him getting romantic, maybe getting down on one knee..."
All right, that was it. Enough was enough.
He started to open his mouth, then stopped. He blinked, put a startled expression on his face.
"Well?" said Flint impatiently.
"I... I think it's gone."
"What's gone?"
"The effect of the Veritaserum." He looked away from Flint, keeping his tone and expression as non-confrontational as possible. "It's out of my system."
"What?"
"I don't feel like I have to answer anything."
Flint squinted at him suspiciously. "What's your mother's maiden name?"
"Longbottom," Draco said flatly. "I told you, it's out of my system. I can lie again."
Flint sat back, annoyed. And Draco was struck once again by the thought that Flint wasn't evil. This wasn't even personal to him. He'd just been bored, and looking to have some fun, and now he looked a bit like Ben did when Draco took away one of his toys.
"All right, Flint and Ellis," said Auror One - Garritt, apparently - coming back into the room, skimming through a parchment. "Take Malfoy to the cells, then come rejoin us, we're going to be in the conference room..." he trailed off, scrolling down the parchment.
"What about the interrogation?" asked Flint, and Garritt glanced up at him absently.
"What? Oh, that. Yeah, we'll probably finish that later. Just get him booked and locked up for now." He started back out the door. "Don't forget to put an extra guard on him, yeah?"
Wait, stop, Draco wanted to ask. Am I going back to Azkaban? For how long? Can I contact my son? What's happened to him? Can I speak to a lawyer? Where's my wand? Did you snap it like you snapped my first wand? Can I contact Harry?
And there was no point in asking any of them. Nobody would answer; prisoners weren't entitled to answers. He stood up as Flint vanished the bindings holding him to the chair.
"Oh, Flint, strict prisoner transfer protocol," said Garritt, popping his head back into the room, and Flint waved his wand. Cuffs appeared around Draco's wrists, and shackles on his ankles.
"Let's go, then," Flint said to Ellis, nodding at him to precede Flint and Draco through the door. Not bothering to speak to or look at Draco.
Draco wasn't a person any more. He'd provided some amusement for Flint, but that was over now, and now Draco was merely a package to be delivered to the holding cells.
He'd acted in self-defence, Draco reminded himself as he was led down to the cells. He'd not caused any permanent damage, and he'd had good reasons for casting the spell he'd cast. And Harry would help. He might even be able to get others to help him - Granger and Weasley had seemed to like Ben well enough, and from what Harry had said, they had slowly come to accept Draco himself. Grudgingly, but they accepted him. Maybe they might help get him out of here soon.
And what if they didn't? What if all of this broke on the front pages of the Prophet, and Ben was targeted, and Draco's own life was exposed, and Harry himself got publicity? Harry hated publicity with a passion, and he would have to face it all without Draco there to help him, and without Draco there to counteract whatever other people said about him, or them. Without Draco there to remind Harry why they were together, despite what anybody else thought, despite what Harry's own family thought-
Oh God, the bloody Weasleys. Harry would no doubt be around them more than he had been in the last few months. He'd hear what they thought about the situation, hear what they thought of Draco, and all without Draco there to remind Harry of why they were together.
And what would happen if Draco came back to find Harry had changed his mind? That he was finally going to listen to the Weasleys, and break it off?
He took a deep breath. Well, then, he and Ben would just go back to the way they had been before. It didn't matter. They'd been happy enough before Harry; they'd be all right.
And that wasn't agony, clawing away at him at the thought of that.
"Right, in you go," Flint said, shoving him into the cell. He waved his wand and Draco's shackles and cuffs and clothing disappeared, and Flint gave him one last smirk over his shoulder and left him alone in the cell.
Oh God, Harry, please, Get me out of here, Draco thought desperately. Raise a big stink, use your influence, I don't care. Just get me out of here.
And take care of Ben. Please. Whether you get me out or not, take care of Ben.
***
Oh and, um, yeah, somebody also said they wanted to see what happened when Draco realized he was in love with Harry. Done!