This story contains mentions of rape and suicidal themes. I don't own Harry Potter.

Event

Draco didn't move as he heard the door slam downstairs. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breathe as raucous voices floated up from the foyer. As the drunken slurs drew closer, he held his breath. Please. Just, go away. Not tonight. Leave me alone.

But even as the thoughts crossed his mind he knew the destination of the voices owners. Knew their purpose. And so it was that he didn't even flinch when the door to his room burst open. Didn't make a sound when two drunken Deatheaters drug him out of his bed and flung him to the floor. Didn't even think of running as they began to beat him, Nott and Zabini (as he knew from their voices) with their hands and feet and Lucius with his cane. It was a ritual he had come to expect over the summer. Once or twice a week Zabini, Nott and his father would drink themselves into oblivion before coming to the manor and taking their frustrations on him. They would then retreat to the parlor were they would pass out leaving Draco to lick his wounds and return to his bed where he would feign sleep until morning when his mother would come for him. Fury and apology in her beautiful eyes, she would treat his wounds before retreating to the gardens not to be seen again until evening.

However, he would soon learn how different tonight was going to be. It started with his father's announcement that he would be off soon to a party with his wife. Draco almost sighed in relief before realizing that Lucius's departing was also his mothers. But at least the beating was over. He would be left alone soon to crawl back to bed. But the words that left his fathers mouth as he left the room froze his body and chilled his very soul. He didn't move until he heard the front doors to the manor swing closed with an ominous thud.

Watch him for me, won't you?

He slowly raised his eyes to the twin evil smirks of the Deatheaters above him. He'd never been left alone with them before. Lucius had always been in the room and his mother, always in the house. But now he was truly alone with two of Voldemart's most vicious followers. As he stared into Zabini's wicked eyes panic struck with full force.

Everything happened very quickly in the next moment. Draco bolted for the door but Nott was quicker with his wand. "Crucio!" He collapsed in a heap writhing as the malicious intent wracked his body with unimaginable pain. But he did not scream. He let out a muffled groan as Nott lifted the curse. His body was on fire and his breaths were coming in short, ragged bursts. He tried to stand but his limbs would not obey him. Zabini lifted him bodily off of the floor and threw him onto the bed.

Draco lost sight of his assailants and for a brief moment he thought that they had left. But then the bed dipped with the weight of a body to his left. Bitter fear began to tighten around his chest as a second weight joined the first on his other side. He remained frozen as both forms drew closer to him. The faces of Nott and Zabini soon entered his vision, wicked lust burning in their eyes. The utter terror Draco felt must have shown on his face for a nauseating smile snaked its way onto Zabini's dark features.

"Struggle all you like. No one will save you. No one cares enoughto save you." Zabini pushed Draco back when he tried to get up and straddled his legs. Nott held his hands above his head as Zabini lowered his face to Draco's in a rough mock of a kiss. He thrashed wildly but Zabini's large body was pressed flush against his lithe one. Breaking the 'kiss', Zabini grabbed either side of Draco's shirt and tore it apart. He attached his lips to Draco's neck biting and sucking until he left a dark bleeding mark. As he descended farther down Draco's chest, the boy bucked his hips and squirmed in a bid at freedom. But all in vain. The large Deatheater grabbed for his wand and pointed it at Draco's loose pajama bottoms.

"Difindo!" Draco stilled as cold realization dawned on him. He wasn't going to stop. He screwed his eyes shut with all the imprudent hope of a naïve child wishing away the monsters in the dark. This isn't happening. This isn't real. No. No! NO!

His eyes flew open again at the sound of a zipper being unfastened.

A feral smirk split the dark man's face in two.

"You're mine now boy." He thrust his hips forward without another word.

Draco closed his eyes again, came undone, and screamed.

AN: The Zabini in this chapter is Blaise's father. I'm going to pretend he was a deatheater. I decided to use him to strengthen Draco's dynamic with Blaise in later chapters.