A/N: Nope, this has nothing to do with my last oneshot; I'm still thinking about expanding on that one, but this is just another little tidbit I thought up. ^^ No warnings on this one; other than slash and suggested abuse, I think it's pretty clean. And I don't own Harry Potter. Duh.
Draco shivered as Bellatrix Lestrange's hot breath whispered past his earlobe. "Draco," she hissed. "Look at him... and tell us... the truth."
She wrapped her fingers around a handful of his hair, her nails biting into his scalp. He gave a breathy grunt as she twisted his head around, shoving him toward the last person—and yet, the first person as well—he wanted to see at that moment.
Harry Potter.
He looked like hell. Even Draco could tell that he had been exposed to some sort of stinging charm. His left eye was swollen completely shut, the puffy skin around his forehead completely hiding what would have been the telltale scar. On the whole, his appearance would have been quite comical, had the circumstances been different.
Draco didn't feel much like laughing just then.
"Weeeeell, Draco?" Bellatrix purred. "Is it him?" Her other hand tapped against his back, sending shivers crawling up his spine. Of course it was Harry; he knew that face better than any other. Draco bit down hard on his lower lip as Harry finally raised his gaze. He stared at the blond with his good eye. Draco shrank back a bit, practically feeling the emotions radiating from the stare. He could almost hear the words in his mind, as if Harry were speaking them out loud.
Go ahead, Draco. Give me up. It's not like you even care anymore. You're too busy helping Voldemort kill my friends. Let them kill me. Prove you don't care. Break me again, like you did when you left.
"Tell us!" Bellatrix screeched, her harsh voice piercing through his mind. Stifling a strangled cry, Draco attempted to wrest himself from his aunt's grasp. She released his hair, but gripped his arm instead, her harsh grip bruising his flesh.
"I-I don't know," he gasped out. He hissed as Bellatrix's fingers tightened their hold.
"What do you mean you don't know, Drakey?" she whispered, her eyes flashing dangerously. "You go to school with Potter, don't you?" She paused, looking past him for a moment. Her eyes widened and she released Draco. "What is that!" she shrieked, poking her index finger at one of the snatchers in the back of the room. As she turned her attention to a sword dangling from the snatcher's hand, Draco chanced a peek at Harry from the corners of his eyes. Harry had averted his gaze, his posture a bit slumped in what Draco guessed was relief; though he doubted that sentiment would last much longer.
But as he glanced back at his aunt, she found that she had become totally engrossed in the situation with Godric Gryffindor's sword. Nervous tingles shot through him as Bellatrix ceased her shrill berating and whirled around. Praying the stinging charm would last, Draco flattened himself to the wall as Bellatrix stormed past him. He stiffened when she gripped the collar of Harry's shirt and pushed him toward the stairwell that led to the dungeons. "Wormtail!" she snapped. "Take them downstairs." She shoved Weasley toward the sniveling Pettigrew, who made an instant, eerie appearance from the shadows. As Wormtail hustled the two down the dungeon steps, Bellatrix turned back to Granger. Draco shuddered. He knew what was coming, and as much as he disliked Granger, he had no desire to bear witness to her torture. The rest of the people in the room—namely the snatchers, Draco's parents, Bellatrix—seemed to be occupied, so Draco carefully disappear into the dungeons.
His blood ran cold when he realized Wormtail was in the cell with Harry and Weasel. He eased closer to the door, and upon noticing it had not yet been locked, slipped inside. His eyes widened at the sight before him. Weasel was bound and struggling against the far wall. Wormtail was bent over Harry, whose face had returned to normal, his blasted silver fingers curled around Harry's throat...
"Relashio!" Draco spat, and Wormtail yelped as a fiery spark singed his back. "Silencio," he breathed, quieter this time. Wormtail ceased his noise-making, his lips pursing in a silent howl as Draco cast relashio once more. An increasing panic surged through the blond as Wormtail's iron hand kept its grip. It was as if the hand was acting of its own accord... but of course; the hand was the Dark Lord's creation, it would be hard-wired to destroy anyone not on the Dark Lord's side!
His heart rate doubled when Harry's eyes rolled back into his head. He had to do something. Now.
"Cast deprimo!" chimed a girlish voice from behind him. Draco jumped, before remembering Loony Lovegood and the wandmaker were also being held down there. Gulping, he did as she said. A blast of charmed wind burst from his wand-tip, sweeping Pettigrew's fingers away from Harry's neck.
Draco released a shuddering breath. "Incarcerous," he whispered, causing ropes to spring up and wrap around Wormtail's form. Draco was tempted to just finish his life right then and there, but turned his attention back to Harry, who appeared to be unconscious, and...
Oh God. Was he even... breathing?
"Anapneo," he murmured, his voice shaking. "Rennervate."
Harry's chest rose and fell, and the brunette's eyes fluttered open. Draco fell to his knees, weak with relief. "Dear God. Harry..." His voice wavered. He swallowed as Harry's eyes flicked toward him.
A pained smile curved over Harry's face. "T-Thank you." He blinked, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. His hand found Draco's and he gripped the blond's fingers.
After all that had happened, any normal person—or at least, any person Draco was used to being around—would have dismissed the fact that Draco had just saved their life and focused solely on his past actions. But Harry was so good to him. Too good. He always had been. Draco's own eyes grew moist. He leaned over, burying his face in Harry's chest.
"I'm so sorry," he whimpered, his voice muffled.
He could feel Harry's surprise, but he felt the brunette's arms wrap around his thin body. A shiver ran up his spine as Harry's hands explored his emaciated torso.
"Draco..." Harry whispered. "Did they hurt you?"
Draco froze. He sat up, turning away from Harry in a desperate attempt to keep more tears from falling. An alarmed look passed over Harry's face as he struggled into an upright position. "Draco?" He reached for the blond. "Hey. Hey..."
Feeling deeply ashamed, Draco let Harry pull him in and began to weep into his shoulder. "I just want it to end..."
"I know. I know."
"I'm sorry," Draco repeated. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"
"It's okay. Shhh..."
"Forgive me. Please. Please." Draco clung to Harry's arm like a child.
"Yes, Draco. Yes. I forgive you." Harry held Draco close as he sobbed. The two were so wrapped up in each other, they failed to notice that Luna had untied Ron.
"...what the hell?"
Draco pulled back and twisted around, for once having no spiteful words for Weasley. Beside him, Harry shifted weight.
"Ron," he said calmly, "Draco and I are together."
Draco cringed a bit as Ron's brow flexed. "Together," he repeated.
"Yes," Harry said. He stood up. "Now. We have to get out of here," he said, having clearly dismissed the subject of Draco and himself.
Ron jolted to his feet as a horrific scream emanated from upstairs. "Hermione—!"
Finally getting a grip on himself, Draco jumped up, pressing his index finger to his lips. His eyes flicked toward Loony and the wandmaker, then back at Harry and Ron. All wandless. Any thought of escape withered within him. How on earth was he going to get all of them out, and Granger too? Not that he cared much, of course, but he knew Harry would never leave without the others.
"Harry Potter!"
"Oh dear God!" Draco jumped a mile into the air as a house elf—clad in a yellow polo shirt, baggy black shorts, and about twenty pairs of socks—popped in beside him.
"Hello Dobby." Harry smiled, and the house elf beamed up at him.
Draco blinked. He vaguely remembered hearing that name before... ah, yes, now he remembered. The day father had lost Dobby—to Harry, no less—was the day Lucius had hit Draco for the first time. Forcing back a shudder, Draco turned his attention back to the situation at hand.
"Got it?" Harry was saying. Dobby squeaked out a 'yes' and a few other random exultations before disappearing, taking Loony and the wandmaker along with him.
"Okay," Harry said. He turned back to Draco and Ron. "We'll go up. Draco, you'll have to get us some wands to use. Dobby will return in ten minutes. Once he gets back, we get Hermione, grab hold of Dobby, and go."
Another shriek pierced the air. Ron stiffened, but Harry shushed him before he could say anything. They crept back up the stairs.
Hermione was splayed out on the floor. Bellatrix was circling her like a cat on the prowl, her eyes crazed and full of bloodlust. She lifted her wand. "Cruci—"
"Expelliarmus!" Bellatrix's wand shot into the air. Harry caught it with adept grace as Ron rushed forward and scooped Hermione off of the floor. Bellatrix swung around, her upper lip curling when she caught sight of her nephew.
"Draco," she hissed, her nostrils flaring. "How dare you!"
There were thousands of things Draco could have said at that moment, but they all left his mind as he stared into his aunt's dark pupils. It was like she was inside his head, her eyes tearing into his soul—
Harry's hand came down on his shoulder, bringing Draco back. He looked away, shaking his head. "I'm leaving," he muttered. "I'm not coming back."
Dobby cracked back into the room at that moment. Ron, still carrying Hermione, and Harry placed their hands on the house elf's shoulder. As Draco reached for Harry's hand, Bellatrix whipped a dagger from the folds of her skirt.
"Traitor!" she shrieked. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the weapon flying through the air, a split second before Dobby snapped his fingers.
The world twisted and warped around them. Draco landed face-first on a beach. He sat up, chocking on a mouthful of salty sand. A piercing cry left his lips as pain shot through his arm and chest. A few feet away, Harry paused in brushing himself off. His eyes grew wide and he scrambled toward the blond, his feet sending sand flying every which way.
"Draco," he breathed. "Hold still. Just hang on. I... oh God..."
Draco looked down and gasped. Bellatrix's dagger was protruding from the skin just beneath his right shoulder blade.
His sight grew fuzzy. He reached out, groping for Harry's hand. "Harry," he gasped. "H-Harry..."
"Just hang on!" Harry cried. "Dobby, apparate us into the cottage!"
Blood dribbled from the corners of Draco's mouth. "Harry," he croaked again, his voice so quiet that it was barely audible. As Dobby stood up and snapped his fingers, Draco's world faded to black, and he fell forward into Harry's arms.
A/N2: This is a twoshot and part two will come if/when I get some reviews. So review! :)