Title: Scars of His Past
Characters: Draco
Rating: M
Warnings: Torture, rape
Summary: Draco's not at all pleasant experiences during the war.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishers. No offense is meant by this fan fiction and this is made purely for fun.
A/N: So, I wrote and proof read everything really late at night, or early in the morning whichever, so there might be some typos and... stuff. Also I have no clue why everything I've been writing recently is angsty and semi-depressing...
When Draco went home for the summer after fifth year he was sombre. His father had been imprisoned in Azkaban for the skirmish at the Ministry. Merlin knows what even happened there but the one thing he did know was that Potter was involved and that the Dark Lord was furious. On his third day home the Dark Lord visited the Manor, Nagini in tow, and spoke with Draco, his mother and his aunt of his father's failure. There was a chance for redemption though, a chance to make it all right. The Dark Lord was setting him a task and it was the opportunity he needed to prove himself and show that he was more than just an adolescent, that he could be a worthy Death Eater, that he was better than his father.
"Draco, you must find a way for my Death Eaters to infiltrate Hogwarts. We must show that Dumbledore is not as infallible as the Wizarding world believes him to be. And what better way to do that than have the school infiltrated by a mere teenager," the Dark Lord spoke, as he stroked Nagini's head. He looked at Draco and then swiftly came face-to-face with him. "And then have Dumbledore killed by him as well." Draco swallowed nervously. Infiltrating Hogwarts was something he could probably do but killing Dumbledore was out of his depth. "Do this for me, Draco, and all shall be forgiven. Fail me, like your father, and I shall see to it that the Malfoys suffer a most painful end."
Draco froze in his seat, the words "Yes, my Lord," barely making their way past his lips. His Aunt Bellatrix was howling for joy and his mother wore a cool mask but Draco knew she felt those words just as strongly as he did. All of a sudden he felt an impossible burden on his shoulders.
"Tut tut, Draco darling," said Bellatrix, as she circled him. She was teaching him Occlumency to help him to better defend himself against the Dark Lord's Legilimency. She had used her blood relation to convince his mother that she was best suited to train him, rather than Professor Snape. At the moment though, Draco was wishing Professor Snape was his uncle so that he could teach him instead of his mad Aunt Bella.
"Come now, Draco!" she said, as she swiftly aimed her wand at him. Then, in a sing song sort of tone, "Keep Aunt Bella out. Your. Head."
Draco had no chance to catch his breath. She was in his mind and tearing through his memories about as gently as a lion ripped meat off a carcass. He gritted his teeth and refused to scream unless it was absolutely necessary, because she would take delight in it and push even harder.
Draco had just finished his potions exam, and relief and joy had washed over him for completing such a difficult potion.
Pansy was yelling at him about ignoring her as tears ran down her face. Draco told her that he did not fancy her the way she did him and stood with her, waiting for her tears to subside, because Pansy was a good friend just not one he wanted to have intimate relations with.
He tried to force her out but she continued to tear her way deeper. He relived his memories with her, complete with emotions and all.
He had just sat down in Ancient Runes when Blaise discreetly placed a Granny Smith apple on his desk and flashed him a smile. Draco took the apple and ate it.
He was writing a letter to his mother for her birthday and packaging a potion he brewed for her.
Blaise was draped around him, toying with his hair while Draco sucked and nibbled on other boy's ear lobe. Joy lingered in his bones.
Draco had just found out that his father was in Azkaban and the floor all but fell out from under him.
Aunt Bella wrenched herself from his mind and Draco found that he was a shivering heap on the floor, covered in sweat and fighting a massive headache.
"Now, now, Draco," his aunt said affectionately, "you won't make any progress that way. Don't you want me out? Don't you want to keep the Zabini boy to yourself? Or it is not painful enough for you to try harder?
"Perhaps," she started, as she bent down in front of him and smiled, "I should really torture you. Hmmm? How about it?"
"No..." he rasped, struggling to raise himself off the ground.
"I will! I will!" she jumped up and spun around, "Crucio."
Draco's body jolted and he experienced pain like he had never felt before. It was in his body and his mind. It was everywhere. The pain was so intense that he could not hear his screams or feel the scratch in his throat that comes with that degree of screaming. He could not feel the tears streaming down his face, but he knew they were there, just like he knew he was screaming because it was impossible that he was not, not with the excruciating pain that he felt. Then the pain stopped and Draco felt his body trembling from the aftershock.
"Perhaps that was too much?" she mused. "If you fail again I'll deal you a less painful punishment, all though it will be a tad more messy. Have you ever felt the effects of a flaying curse? I'll be gentle of course."
He was shaking uncontrollably. His attempts to kill Dumbledore had all failed and the Vanishing Cabinet was proving difficult to fix, especially since he had to be evading Filch, the professors and the prefects in the evenings. He had made progress, yes, but the time constraint was weighing on him. He had to be filtering through numerous texts and practising advanced charms and curses before he could use them and hope that they worked the way he needed them to. Having to go to class and keep up with his schoolwork was not helping much either. He was withdrawing from his housemates, he was not eating well, he was not sleeping well either. It went without saying that he was paler than normal and thinning down even more. He was no longer slender, but scrawny.
He was in his bed with the drapes drawn shut. His dorm mates were all at dinner in the Great Hall, Draco had left early since he did not feel as if he was able to keep most his food down. He would take a strengthening potion once the shaking subsided.
"Draco," he heard Blaise say. "Draco, I know you're in there. You can't avoid me forever you know. The others are still upstairs if that's what you're concerned about. Draco?" Blaise was pulling at the curtains now.
Draco tried to grab hold of his wand but fumbled a few times before he could grasp it. He wordlessly dispelled his wards after a few feeble attempts and soon he was looking at Blaise's shocked face. The dark skinned boy cursed and moved to pulled Draco out the bed. "Don't," he protested.
"Don't? What the fuck, Draco?" Blaise complained, as he pulled Draco against him and less than hauled him out the bed. "You're practically having a fit. Shit, you're cold, and thin. Have you been eating at all?"
"Yes, I- have. Blaise- put me down," Draco said, as he tried to pry his way out of the other boy's hold. "Just look in- my trunk- strengthening potion."
"Draco-"
"Blaise, please."
Blaise paused and considered him for a moment before shaking his head and laying Draco back onto the bed. He rummaged through the trunk and pulled out a phial. Draco glanced at it to ensure that Blaise found the right one and opened his mouth when Blaise uncorked it and moved back towards him. He downed the contents and closed his eyes while he waited for it to take effect. He felt more engery run through him and he had more control of his limbs now. He reckoned he was having a panic attack though, or he had sustained some nerve damage from his training with Bellatrix that Easter, so he would have to wait that out and take a nerve regenerating potion later. Just in case.
"Well?" Blaise asked. He touched Draco's shoulder gently.
"Blaise just..." Draco pleaded, hoping he would not have to explain anything. For now at least. Blaise looked at him then locked the door to their dorm and went over to his own bed. Draco nodded to him in thanks and they stayed in silence until Draco's convulsing subsided. He would need to brew some nutrient potions to supplement the strengthening ones. Especially since he doubted that his eating would improve.
He did it. He finally did it. He fixed the Vanishing Cabinet. He alerted the Death Eaters. He helped them infiltrate the school. The one thing he did not do was kill Dumbledore. He could not. He could cast the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperius but not the Killing. No, he could never do that. Dumbledore was right about that, about him. If Professor Snape had not been there he did not know what would have happened and now, now they ran. Professor Snape parting their way through the chaos as Death Eaters, professors and students alike threw curses and hexes all around. Professor Snape pulling him along when he fell back, shielding him when stray spells flew his way. It was Professor Snape who pulled him away when he stopped running, because Blaise was looking at him with eyes full of question and of fear.
Once they got past the gates he apparated to the Manor, Professor Snape not far behind him. Before he went inside he turned to his favourite professor, his father's old friend, his saviour as of tonight. The man looked cold and unyielding despite what he had just done, who he had just killed. Before he lost control of himself Draco found his voice and looked the man in the eyes whispering, "I'm sorry."
And he was. He was sorry for ignoring him all year, sorry for refusing his help, sorry for spitting insults at him because he felt that he was so alone. Draco lost hold of his control and flung himself forwards, sobbing and holding onto Professor Snape tightly, he was the closest thing Draco had to a father at the moment. Surprisingly the man rested his hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed. It was then that Draco noticed Professor Snape was not as untroubled by the night's events as he appeared, the man was trembling slightly.
"Thank you," Draco croaked.
"You should get inside," Professor Snape said, his voice clipped and cold as usual. "Narcissa is worried."
Draco thought he heard a hint of warmth in the man's voice.
The Dark Lord was living in the Manor. The Death Eaters had been broken out of Azkaban and his father had returned but now they needed a hideout, Malfoy Manor. Draco knew this was so not because of the size of the Manor but because of his father's folly, which he was still being punished for. The Malfoy's would be host to the Death Eater party. Draco thought he would feel more relief at the prospect of his family being together once more, but it came at too great a price.
When the Dark Lord was there Nagini slithered through the Manor, hissing and flicking her tongue out with promises of death -that was how Draco chose to interpret it. The Death Eaters waltzed around as if they lived there and did not fail to throw hexes in Draco's direction simply for the fun of it. He was getting particularly good at shield charms as well as concealment charms. As well as walking around as quietly as possible without magic.
Of all the Death Eaters though, Fernir Greyback in particular kept eyeing him and touching him unnecessarily. Musing about what it would be like to claw at his pale skin and whether Draco would be as cold as he looked. He did his best to steer clear of the werewolf and his pack when he could and stayed in his room when they were being expected.
One night, when it was nearing the full moon, he came across Greyback as he ate one the Mudbloods in the dining hall. Draco watched, petrified, as the untransformed werewolf embraced his animalistic traits and tore at the man's flesh with his teeth, blood flowing from the open wounds. Greybrack's face was covered in blood, as well as his clothes. The dining table had blood running off the sides and the man that lay on it was twitching and groaning. Greyback laughed, cackled, howled at the man's pain and then ducked his head down and licked the man's throat clean before he ripped it open.
Draco watch as the body jerked and then fell limp and his knees gave way just then. Greyback's head snapped in his direction and Draco vaguely registered the hysterical laughed that followed. All he could focus on was the bile in his throat and the heaviness in his chest. Greyback made his way over to him and grabbed him by the chin.
"Would you like a taste?" he asked, his voice something akin to a rumble. Draco's breath quickened and he could not find it in himself to move. Greyback laughed pried his mouth open before shoving two fingers inside. Draco tasted copper and what he could only describe as human flesh. Greyback stood up and laughed as he returned to his meal, ignoring the way that Draco heaved and wretched behind him.
He would not be able to eat tonight.
The Muggle Studies professor was at the Manor. She was being tormented and tortured by the Dark Lord and she was begging Severus to help her but the man looked cold and indifferent towards her. Draco held his expression in much the same way. He could not feign amusement at this so he would take an unfeeling stance. He kept his mask up as he watched her bleed and scream. He kept his mask when Nagini struck out and began to devour her. His stomach clenched, but that was all it had done. He was becoming somewhat used to the sight of it and he reckoned that watching Greyback eat a man alive had helped to desensitize him somewhat. A part of him was grateful he had come across the scene since it meant he did not slip up quite as often in front of the Dark Lord or Bellatrix.
When it was over and all that was left of the woman was blood and scraps of cloth he discreetly made his way over to Severus and briefly gave the man's hand a squeeze. Severus had been there for him and he would return the favour whenever it was possible, he just had to be private about it. He continued walking and went into the kitchens. It was time to feed the prisoners in the dungeon and it was Draco's turn to do it, though he doubted they would eat after hearing Professor Burbage's screams.
Draco closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. It did little to calm him down though and came out as a shaky sort of thing. He swallowed and stepped forward, casting a swift glance at his mother for support. She looked as if she would trade places with him were she able to, but the Dark Lord was stubborn and would not have it, especially since Draco failed in his task to kill Dumbledore. The fact that he managed to find a way for the Death Eaters to infiltrate Hogwarts was the sole reason he and his parents had not died that night. That and Severus Snape.
Draco shook his head and focused on the task at hand. He raised his wand and aimed it at Rowle. The Dark Lord had ordered him to torture the man. He did not know if he could, and it was not because Rowle looked about to kill him, but because it made him sick to his stomach to watch as bodies writhed and wrenched around in pain, but the worst of it was the screaming. Draco took a tentative step forwards, closed his eyes, calmed his thoughts and tucked away his most inhibiting emotions as best he could. He opened his eyes thinking only of survival and family, and then he took a deep breath and pulled all his anger and pain forward before he cast. "Crucio."
Rowle jerked and howled in pain, crumpling to the floor. Draco's concentration broke and the curse ended long before the Dark Lord would see fit. There was a hiss and the flutter of a cloak behind him before he felt cold, bony fingers wrap around his neck and breath tickling his ear. He tried not to shiver, not to wrench himself away, and focused on his breathing.
"You are too soft, Draco," the Dark Lord spat at him, before lowering his voice to a whisper. "You have to mean it. Have to want it. Where is your passion for punishment? For torture?" A wand teased at his scalp and came to a halt at the back of his ear. Draco could envision his own body lying lifeless on the floor.
"Were it not for your resemblance to Lucius I would wonder if you were really his boy. Shall I give you a lesson in torture?" the Dark Lord questioned. Draco swallowed and shut his eyes tight. He dared not speak, the Dark Lord was volatile. Besides, anything he said would diminish into a whimper.
"Crucio," the Dark Lord whispered into his ear. Draco felt white hot pain wash over him and let out a cry. His legs gave way immediately but the hand was still firmly around his neck. He gasped for air. The curse was lifted as quickly as it was cast. His breath was shaky and his muscles trembling. His parents clutched at one another with as much worry displayed as would be tolerated, which was not much at all. "Did you feel the difference, Draco? Did you feel my intent, my devotion to my task? Now, again, see to Rowle's torture."
Once again, Draco fought back his emotions. Hammered them down and cast them away with more mental locks than he thought possible. He would treat it as an Occlumency barrier. Still shaking from his lesson he raised his wand, as unsympathetic as his mind could allow, and cast. "Crucio," he whispered.
Rowle's head snapped back and his body convulsed. Howls of pain echoed the room and Draco fought to keep his concentration. He threw all of his determination into the curse. His will to survive, the need to keep his family together, his unwillingness to suffer at the hand of a mad man if he could prevent it. Rowle was rolling all over the floor with spit flying from his mouth as he screamed at Draco to stop, that he had learned his lesson, that he would not disappoint the Dark Lord again. Draco followed Rowle's movements with his wand and ignored the part of his mind, his soul, that wanted for him to relent. He ignored the Dark Lord's praises of "Yes, Draco", "That's it!", "Make him regret his failure", "Listen to that sound! Music!"
He ended the curse and stepped back. He would not let himself break down quite yet, not where the man could see him. Not where he could get punished for his weakness. He avoided the gaze of his parents and evaded their touches. He avoided looking at Rowle, shivering and puking on the floor. He avoided himself and his conscience, as much as one was able to do that.
"Wonderful, Draco!" the Dark Lord praised, as he examined Rowle, "There is hope for your family yet. Perhaps you shall make up for Lucius' folly." The Dark Lord stepped on Rowle's stomach and bared his teeth at him, "Now, Rowle, do you understand the extent of our displeasure?"
Draco was half asleep. He never really went into slumber anymore, there were too many risks. The wards on his room rattled and bent, he could feel them ringing in his ear. He tightened his hand around his wand, it was always nearby. When the culprit paused in their infiltration Draco cast more wards, weaving them into one another the way his mother had taught him and using spells that meshed well with one another. He sat still in the corner of his room that was the least accessible from the door but where he would have full advantage should someone break through the wards.
He stayed there all night.
The next day Draco picked at his food but forced himself to eat it anyway. It would not do to have himself collapsing during meetings or tasks set by the Dark Lord. His father had already done enough damage and all though Dumbledore was dead it was no fault of Draco's, which it should have been were it not for his cowardice.
He could not taste what he ate. It was a flavourless meal that he could only use texture to judge what he had eaten. Perhaps his taste buds were not working, or maybe he was simply too distracted to notice anything other than the distance between someone's hand and their wand, how many Death Eaters had walked behind him, the exact location of his parents and whether or not any overly interested looks were being cast their way. Rowle seemed rather interested in him, which was not surprising since the man must be furious that Draco was the one to punish him. Selwyn kept raking his eyes over Draco's mother and Greyback took to winking at Draco since the incident in the dining hall.
Draco felt his stomach lurch at the memory and suddenly his food had flavour. It tasted of copper and of flesh.
Later than night no one came to his door but there were disturbances by the window. Draco cursed and carefully cast wards on them. He spent the rest of the night finding somewhere in his room that was ideal to station himself.
Every few nights after that people would attempt breaking through his wards, whether by the windows or the door, sometimes both. He did not know when he managed to rest but he did know that he was becoming increasingly good at retaining awareness during those moments.
Potter had taken his wand. Potter had taken his wand. Draco was close to panicking at the thought of being unable to reinforce his wards. The Dark Lord was livid. Bellatrix was slashing everything that she could and had called a house elf just so she could carve it up and gouge its eyes out. Draco had not stayed around for the rest of it. His father was also near panic and his mother was trying to calm both him and Draco down. Greyback was a trembling dog after the Dark Lord had punished him. He was punishing everyone if Draco was perfectly honest. He Crucioed and incarcerated and slashed and burned some of them. Draco himself was nursing a wound that went across his back from shoulder to hip. His mother had dealt with it in much the same way that Snape had dealt with Draco's wounds from Potter that day in the bathroom. That night his wards were attacked and he could feel the dark magic ripping some of it apart. He probably had a few more nights before they were destroyed completely.
A few days later they got word that the Lestrange vault at Gringotts had been broken into. His aunt went on a rampage throwing Cruciatus curses as anyone that crossed her, anyone except his mother. Draco's limbs felt heavy and his fingers kept twitching involuntarily and his dinner was threatening to make a reappearance.
That night he when he went to his room Rowle was waiting for him outside the door. Draco froze for a moment and then turned and ran. He did not get far though because Rowle had hit him with a leg locker and he went crashing to the ground. Before he could scream anything out a silencing charm had been cast. Draco knew it was futile but he dragged himself away by his arms never the less. Rowle pulled him back with a flick of his wand. He heaved Draco up and gave him a wicked smile before he took his hand and placed it on the door handle. Draco's thrashing made no difference, the wards released and Rowle used his hand to push the door open and went inside, closing the door behind them. The wards wove back into place and Rowle cast a privacy charm on the door before removing the spells on him.
"Malfoy," Rowle growled, "I've been waiting to get you alone for a long time now."
Draco did not take his eyes off the man and carefully rose to his feet.
"Ah ah aah. Don't you move unless I say so," Rowle said, flicking his wand and sending Draco flying across the room.
He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, his back was still sore. "What do you want Rowle?"
"Nothing much, really. Just to hear you scream the way you had me do," the man said, making his way over to him.
"I was executing my orders. You know that," he said, more calmly than he felt. He wanted to sprint out of the room, apparate out the Manor.
"I don't care."
Rowle lunged at him and Draco rolled to the side and scrambled to get up but his limbs were not reacting as quickly as they needed to. Rowle grabbed him and flung him to the floor. Draco felt his head hit the wall before he fell and cried out. Rowle was on him in an instant. He wriggled and tried to wrench himself away. He thought he managed to kick the man at least twice before a hand slammed his head down and Rowle pinned him to the floor face down. With a flick of his wand Rowle ripped Draco's clothes off and that made him struggle a new.
"Get the fuck off of me!" Draco shrieked, panicking. Rowle laughed and spread Draco's legs with a flick of his wand and cast an Incarcerous on Draco's wrists. "Stop! Stop! Rowle, please! Don't!"
Rowle spelled his own clothes off now, never shifting his weight to give Draco a chance to even attempt escape. He cast a spell and Draco felt wetness between his cheeks. Rowle rolled his hips back and forth and Draco felt the other man's cock sliding against him, hardening until it was sliding between cheeks and Rowle making disgusting sounds of pleasure, Draco begging him to stop all the while.
And then Draco felt the blunt head press against his entrance and he struggled to get away. Rowle laughed at him and wrenched his head back by the hair. "Don't want me to fuck your little ass, do you?" Rowle spat at him. Draco wanted to wretch. "At least it isn't the Cruciatus, boy. This will hurt considerably less. You should be grateful for my consideration."
Draco whimpered and begged Rowle not to do it but without any warning the man rammed his way inside and Draco screamed and sobbed at the pain, tears making their way down his face. Rowle rammed into him again and again, sparking new flares of pain in Draco's arse. Soon the man was pounding into him relentlessly and Draco could do nothing but lay there and suffer through it. He hissed when Rowle spanked him or bit him hard enough to bleed and choked when the man squeezed his neck.
It was a night he would never want to remember but would never be able to forget, and it was not the last.
Vincent was dead. The fool had attempted using Fiendfyre and lost control of it. Draco had tried to save him. He tried. But like in so many other things he had failed. He had failed to stop Potter from getting the diadem, which Vincent ended up destroying anyway. And now he was on a broomstick clinging to Potter for dear life as the flames licked at their heels and smoke filled the air. Draco could feel his eyes stinging and blinked furiously. If the Dark Lord could see him now he would throw him right back into the flames for the way he was trusting Potter with his life.
Potter swerved around pillars of flame and rose and dipped to avoid the stacks of debris and anything that was hanging off of them. Draco caught a glimpse of a chair that was falling towards them and jerked Potter to the left, the broom moving with them. The chair barely missed them and once Potter realized what had happened he decided to forgo cursing.
When they landed Draco ran for it. He had to get out of Hogwarts. He had to get out of this rotten life. He had to find his parents and leave. He ran and he dodged curses and he leaped over debris and bodies and he hid when necessary.
Vincent was dead.
He caught a glimpse of a Slytherin tie and ran his eyes over the body.
Caucasian, good.
Draco wanted to find Blaise but that would be practically impossible.
The Dark Lord was dead. The Dark Lord was dead and Potter had used Draco's wand to do it.
He walked carefully through the Great Hall, much like he did at the Manor, and scanned the room for his parents. He went over to them the moment he saw them. He evaded the students and corpses. Once his parents had caught sight of him they rushed towards him and the second his mother's arms wrapped around him he felt relief wash over him and he returned her hug. His father held the two of them and Draco was sure he felt him lay a kiss on his head.
"Draco, thank Merlin you're all right," his mother whispered.
"You didn't come back," his father said, "We were worried you were... It's good to see you."
"Yeah," he said, not knowing what else to say. He gave them both a squeeze to make up for his lack of a vocabulary.
"Merlin-" his father said, looking behind Draco. "That's... it can't be... S-Severus."
Draco whipped around and felt one of his knees give out when he saw Potter levitating the man into the Great Hall. Some of the survivors were quarrelling with him about whether or not Severus deserved to be brought back into the school after what he had done. Before he knew what he was doing Draco found himself at the end of Pott- his wand.
"Not another step Malfoy," Potter spat at him, shielding Severu' corpse from him. For what reason, Draco did not know.
"Severus," he heard his father whisper not far behind him. His mother tried to coax him away from all the attention they were drawing, but Draco heard the crack in her voice.
Draco tried to step around Potter but the man kept blocking him and he was becoming furious. He stopped and glared at him. "What the bloody hell is your problem, Potter?" he asked quietly.
"What do you want?"
"What do I want? Potter, are you an idiot?" Draco said, as he stepped closer to him. He was aware that others were drawing their wands but he did not quite care about them, or the way his parents quietly tried to call him back, because Potter was preventing him from paying his respects to the man who did more than he than he had ever needed to for him. "Snape is dead. Severus is dead. And you're asking me what I want? Out of everyone in this room, save for my parents, I'm the least likely to disrespect his corpse."
Potter stared him down for a beat and then lowered Draco's wand and handed it to him. "All right, Malfoy. And thanks for the loan," mumbled Potter.
Draco took a step back and stared at his wand. He looked back up at Potter and saw no evidence of deceit in his eyes. Tentatively, he reached for the wand. Once he grabbed a hold of it Potter let it go and Draco knew he should have thanked him but he could not take his eyes off his wand, or even find his voice much less focus on anything other than the way he felt the wand's core connect with his own, reunited.
Once the feeling passed he looked up at Potter and nodded at him. He held out his hand and this time Potter took it. Draco nodded at him before moving towards Severus and looking the man over. He had seen those types of wounds before and often enough that he was sure he was right. Nagini had gotten to Severus. The Dark Lord had her kill him. He closed his eyes and swore at himself for not telling the man how much of a help he had been, how important he had been, and still was. Draco Squeezed Severus' hand, it was cold and beginning to stiffen. The last he had seen of the man Severus was trying to get Draco to tell him what was troubling him and why he had began eating even less than before. He fought back tears as he whispered, "I didn't want you to worry over my problems when you had so much to handle already. I wasn't your responsibility and you did not need to be a father to me when my own should have been fully capable of doing that."
They were all in a holding cell and Rowle had decided that now would be a good time to harass Draco. The remaining Death Eaters had been rounded up and those that were on the run were being hunted down. Draco, his father and a few of the other male Death Eaters were in one cell, stripped of their wands of course, and the women were in another. Personally he did not see the need to separate the genders.
"Step away from him, Thorfinn," Lucius threatened, as he stepped between them. Draco snorted to himself and Rowle said the words that Draco felt and did not desire for anyone else to know.
"Defending him now are you, Lucius?" Rowle said mockingly. "Where were you to defend him when I fucked his fine little porcelain ass?"
He felt those words as clearly as he had heard them.
"What. Did. Yo-"
He could not believe Rowle had the audacity to humiliate even more. As if it was not enough that he had already-
Draco lunged at Rowle and punched him square in the jaw before seizing the man's neck. They tumbled to the floor and Draco refused to let go until the man was dead. Rowle rasped at him to let go while trying desperately to pry his hands off. Rowle kicked and thrashed but Draco had gotten enough experience to know just how to pin the man down, he had learned from him after all. He ignored the few people pulling at him and clenched his hands tighter. The others were simply watching quietly, not wanting to get involved in anything else. He snarled and cursed when his arms were wrenched from Rowle's neck and thrashed to get free. His father dragged him aside and held him close, struggling to keep him still. Eventually he calmed down and his father's hold felt more like an embrace than an attempt to restrain him. Draco held onto his father's arms and though he did not cry he may as well have because that was possibly the Malfoy equivalent when it came to public displays of affection.
By the time the guards came to check up on them everyone was settled and his father was glaring daggers at Rowle, who sat on the far end of the cell.
"Draco," his father spoke quietly. Draco kept his eyes away from him. "Son," this time it was softer, sombre. His father carefully rested a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I should not have let it pass my notice that something was troubling you. Something more than what we were all already going through. You could have told your mother and me, you know? We would not have gotten upset, not at you."
"I do not want to discuss this right now. Not here." He shrugged his father's hand off. It was a bit late for the man to start caring now.
"Then where else? We're all awaiting trial, Draco. We may not get another opportunity to speak of it, or to see each other. We're likely to get incarcerated or executed."
"If we get executed then what does it matter?" Draco spat. "You didn't notice what was going on under your own roof, father. Never mind everything else that was going on, I'm your son you should have realized something was wrong." Draco turned away but found himself swinging back around because all his resentment wanted to burst out of him. "I mean really, father, how would I have started that conversation with you in the first place? You were too busy cowering at the Dark Lord's feet or drinking wine until you could forget all the shit going on around us. The only thing you were concerned about was survival, not how we were surviving. Did I look like I was all right to you? For you to not even ask me how I was."
"I had attributed it to stress of the war and the... punishments we had to deal and deal with."
"Severus was observant enough to realize something was wrong, you should have too." Draco looked away from his father then. His chest was tight, his eyes burned and his hands were trembling. "I should have told him. When he asked, I should have told him."
"Draco-"
"He was always there for me, father, even when I shoved him away. I'd have died several times over if it weren't for him. Now he's dead, he's gone, and I haven't thanked him enough for everything he's done for me, for us."
His father looked at him then, really looked at him. He took in the bags around Draco's eyes, the pallor of his skin and the thinness of his frame then shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm a dreadful parent aren't I? Don't deny it. This is evidence enough, this entire bloody situation. The state you're in. The way your mother wakes up in the middle of the night because she can't forget the times they've tortured you, hmph the fact that that happened at all." His father looked at him then, "If I could do it all again I would never have joined them. I would have sent you into hiding during the war. You and your mother both. If I ever get the chance son, I'll make it up to you as best that I can. I swear it. For now though, I can only offer you my apologies, my regrets and my lo-"
"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you hearing will begin now."
His father smiled at him slightly and gave his hand a squeeze before he left the cell. Even though he had not gotten to hear the rest of his father's words he knew he was going to say that Draco had his love. Never mind that Malfoy's never said those things in public. Times were different now.
Draco waited his turn quietly and made sure to keep his eyes on Rowle.
They were free. The Malfoy's had escaped imprisonment and suffered only fines, and house arrest. The Manor was searched head to toe for Dark artefacts and two year long tracking spells were placed on their wands, both his parents had to get new ones. All in all Draco thought it was an insanely good deal. They were only this lucky because Potter had spoken on their behalf and even then his father had almost ended up in prison.
Draco stepped into the Manor and found that neither he nor his parents really wanted to go further than the entrance hall. His father summoned the house elves that were left and ordered them clean a few of the rooms and drastically redecorate them so that they would have somewhere to stay while the rest of the Manor was dealt with, leaving nothing there to remind them of the happenings during the war. Draco requested that they relocate his bedroom to the east wing. He did not want use his old rooms if he did not have to and his parents knew well enough not to object. He had not gotten the chance to speak with his mother about Rowle, who had gotten incarcerated, but he was sure his father had mentioned it to her at some point, given the way she had taken to looking at him.
While they waited for the elves to prepare a room for them stay in Draco looked at his mother and said, "I'll be fine, mother. Really, I will."
"We all will," she said, and he believed her.