A/N OK, so this is my first Harry Potter fic and I don't really know all there is to know about the subject. I just love the good ole Draco angst. If you see anything wrong with this fic (facts wise) please don't hesitate to tell me. Also constructive criticism is welcome but please please please don't rip me apart!
Summary: After the teenager's 6th year at Hogwarts, Draco returns home to find that his father has changed and a proposition has been offered (or forced to him). With pressures falling down on him from numerous sides, can Draco pull himself through it, or will he need some help?
Warnings: I do not write slash, partly because its not my style, and partly because I'm so not talented enough! This fic does however include a lot of angst, torture and general being meaness from people.
The blonde seventeen year old sat hugging his knees in a rumpled heap in the corner of his room. His usually well groomed blonde hair had long since been neat and now was falling down his face covering his eyes, which was just as well as the boy had a nasty looking black eye. He also had acquired a fat lip and numerous bruising on his once perfect visage. In fact, his face was not the only part of him that had been bruised and cut; the whole of his body was patterned with cuts, bruises, and even lacerations. His lithe body was now even thinner indicating that he hadn't eaten and even through the black eye you could tell that this teenager had not had much sleep for weeks.
It was a strange sight to behold. The room was lavishly decorated, many portraits of his family hung around the walls glaring around in every direction, a large double bed lined with silver silk sheets stood in the middle of the room, it was carved out of some sort of expensive wood- The whole of the furniture was and everything had a silver and green colour to it. And yet, this boy was sitting right in the corner in between his wardrobe and bookcase, teeth chattering from the cold.
Now, with his tattered clothes providing very little protection against the chill that had filled the room, he was curled up attempting to sleep, when a creak came from the door and a tall stern looking man walked in. At first the boy didn't not recognise the presence of the person until the man was in front of him kneeling down with a smug smirk on his face.
"How rude Draco, I would've thought I had taught you better than that, ignoring your elders," the mans dark voice rang about the room and the boy Draco looked up suddenly; shocked that he hadn't heard his father's approach. If he could have he would've backed away, however he was perched up against the furthest wall from the door and so could not retreat anymore.
Draco's father, Lucius noticed his unease at them being so close together and took advantage of it, he proceeded to grab his son's chin and violently snapped his head up, staring into Draco's similar eyes- they held a haunted look in them which satisfied Lucius' greed for violence for that moment.
"Do you know what day it is my dragon?"
Draco shook his head slowly, finding it hard to with his father's strong grip still holding his chin. In truth, Draco did not even know what month it was, it had been so long it seemed since he had freely wandered about the house, or gone out in public.
"It is the day of your first term of Hogwarts this year, in a few hours the train will leave."
Draco frowned slightly, confused that his father would even consider sending him to Hogwarts, away from the abuse and torture, his brain told him that it was a trick and that his father had moved onto physiological games too now, but his heart led him to believe that his father was genuine.
"The house elves will bring in your school equipment, you leave in an hour, so be ready and," he paused taking in his son's ragged appearance, "I insist you get cleaned up, we don't want people thinking you get into fights now do we?" Lucius turned to leave and made it to the door before Draco foolishly blurted out,
"Why am I allowed to go?"
In all a few seconds, Lucius had covered the distance of Draco's large room and had his son pinned by the neck up against the wall. Draco's legs were weak and he struggled in vain to get out of the dangerous situation however his knees buckled and he found himself gasping for air. Lucius leaned in closer so he was whispering in Draco's ear and said,
"Because, my dragon, people like that menacing nuisance Dumbledore have got it into their head that something has happened to you, so I have to send you back to Hogwarts unless you want your own father to be sent to Azkaban? Do you Draco?"
Draco shook his head weakly though in his head he was screaming 'yes...yes...yes'
Lucius went on, "and so Draco you are to act as you would usually and tell no one about the 'treatment' you have been receiving, if you do, I will find a way to remove you from that school and you shall regret that you were ever born!" Lucius shouted the last part and threw Draco back to the floor and turned to leave.
"You have 58 minutes, I suggest you get cleaned up."
Draco stared for a long while at the door which had closed, until a familiar 'pop' sounded next to him and Moblin one of the Malfoy's house elves stood shyly beside him, jumping nervously from foot to foot.
"Young Master Malfoy must get ready for Hogwarts." And with that Moblin clicked her long bony fingers and a set of Draco's Hogwarts robes appeared neatly laid out on the bed, beside it was a small purple coloured vial. Draco, with a little difficulty rose to his feet and limped to the bedside.
"What is this?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse from screaming from the previous tortures. He picked up the vial and gave it a little shake.
"That is a potion sir, to help master's wounds."
Draco was naturally suspicious, it was no doubt a potion given to him by his father, and he had no doubt that it would solve the problems of his bruising, however there was still that factor that his father was a sick man and that put him off using it. However, he weighed up his options and if he was not to take this potion Lucius would not be pleased.
With one gulp he had swallowed the foul tasting liquid and as he stumbled toward the bathroom with much difficulty and the uneasy feeling of one who is about to be sick, he caught his reflection in the mirror. His skin was changing. The vulgar bruise sitting around his eye was fading into the paleness of his former skin, and he could feel the cuts closing up with a sickening albeit smooth sensation-almost at once the bruising and other injuries faded in colour, however to his dismay he could still feel the cracked rib, the lacerations, and the numerous bruising. 'Typical' he thought bitterly. He then lurched with a new pain, and his body betrayed him once again, he fell to his knees and felt like he was going to throw up; apparently this potion had an after effect.
After regaining his composure, he stood back up and attempted to lift the tattered t-shirt off his torso. He hated to admit it but in the end Moblin was forced to assist and from her help Draco managed to get dressed in his school attire.
He stood in front of the mirror looking at himself. He was now clean, unmarred to the untamed eye and clothed in rich garments, and yet he still didn't look how he used to. He was thinner than he used to be, and he walked with a stoop. Not to mention the empty dulled look in his once brilliant eyes. His hair which had previously been hanging limply to his bloody face was know brushed back to look tidy and sleek, though it had greatly changed from his first year styled hair (now it was almost shoulder length and it was hardly ever gelled).
Time from that point when he stood staring the mirror to when he found himself stepping onto Hogwarts express did not register in Draco's mind. He had not seen his father before he left, nor his mother- only Moblin who assisted with his heavy school trunk. Now he was walking through the train corridor and he suddenly snapped back into reality, a sudden sound (which he secretly dreaded) found its way to his ears.
Draco could make out around 5 people coming towards him and he knew one of the voices well...Harry Potter.
Silently, Draco slid into the nearest unused cabin and sat down resting his head on the back of the seat- he did not have the energy to fight with Potter and the vial of potion had managed to make him blink with nausea again. His privacy was not long lived however. The smallest Weasley 'Ginny,' Draco remembered from second year burst in laughing. She spotted Draco and stopped immediately.
"No room in here," she said to the others; apparently they were searching for an empty cabin. Another red head poked his head round the door and gave a laugh.
"No only Malfoy, and what's this? He's without his cronies!" Ron shouted to the people behind him. Draco glared at him but otherwise did nothing; this seemed to shock most people and most of the Gryffindor gang left. Ron, who was basking in this small glory continued.
"So Malfoy," he began, getting cockier each passing second, "where are your big ogres of friends, not here to back you up? What happened, did daddy decide not to pay them for your friendship this year? Or did your dad have to go away on a permanent vacation to Azkaban; he deserves to go there."
Harry, who had stayed behind whilst the others went off to find another cabin frowned at his friend. To him that seemed quite harsh, even if it was Malfoy. The Slytherin didn't even deserve that. But Draco was now fuming and his temper had all but dwindled.
"Tell me Weasley, when was it proper for a poor excuse for a wizard like you try to belittle my father? Take Potters example here; keep quiet and stay out of my way." Draco spat this line out feeling for once, quite affected by the verbal abuse shouted at him.
Ron went red in the face. He went forward bringing his wand out of his robes intending on pointing it at Draco's face, but Harry held him back.
"Ron, don't. Don't waste your energy on this obnoxious pratt," Harry reasoned, glaring almost as angrily as Ron was. Draco stood up, also removing his wand, savouring the feel of it in his hands; it made him feel powerful, unlike the time he had spent at Malfoy Manor, when he had been forbidden to carry his wand.
"No, come on Potter, don't want your ginger freak friend to start on me? You want to 'finish me off' yourself. Always the attention seeking type. Though I can understand why, no pretending to go gallivanting off into mortal peril equals no attention right?" Draco laughed bitterly, though inside the insult was empty. Harry had not picked up on it however and had also drawn out his wand. He crossed the distance and pointed his wand straight at Draco's neck.
It was a surprise to both Ron and Harry when Draco remained completely still. His eyes met Harry's and they bore through Harry's face; silently daring him to hex him.
Harry didn't back down at first. Before Draco had been faced with a wand, or danger of any sort he had cowered pathetically scrambling to get away, now, the Slytherin was motionless, and without fear.
No one moved for at least 5 seconds when the door slid open and a boy the same age as Draco, Ron and Harry walked in. He was a Slytherin, tall and dark. He had curly black hair, which constantly fell into his dark eyes. He had strong non-pointed features but a thin face with thin-pursed lips and a passive face. His Slytherin coloured robes fit well against his lanky albeit slightly muscular frame. No one really knew who he was from other houses. Harry and Ron were sure that they had never seen him before. Even most Slytherins were weary of him, tending not to socialise with the strange boy that much.
The boy stared at Harry for a long while before simply stating, "Draco, is this boy bothering you?" His voice was calm and deep, without a hint of spite like so many other Slytherins. Harry blinked, no body had ever called him 'boy' before (the first time they had met him), everyone seemed to be amazed that they were talking to Harry Potter, the boy who lived. This person didn't even seem to realise that he was Harry Potter.
"No, Blaise," Draco said, "There's no trouble here." The blonde went and sat back down and Ron and Harry gave disapproving looks before withdrawing their wands and leaving the cabin. Blaise watched them go with interest before turning to Draco.
"Why were you in here on your own?" Blaise inquired, rubbing his left arm unconsciously, it was an act he tended to do from time to time. It showed he was not always as calm as people regarded him as being. Draco did not look up. The black haired boy stared straight at Draco until the other boy was unnerved and looked up to meet Blaise's deep orbs of eyes.
"Zabini, I want to be on my own."
Blaise narrowed his eyes suspiciously, 'what, no threat? No swearing? No sneer? This was not the same Draco that he had known,' he thought as he prepared to say his next line.
"It seems to me like you will be on your own for a lot of this year Draco. Crabb and Goyle are not here this year. Neither is Pansy."
Draco did not know this. It was true that the last year of Hogwarts was optional to all students, and Draco knew for a fact that not many Slytherin's attended this '6th form' year. What Draco did not know however was that none of his close friends had decided to not return (as he had had no communications between anyone all summer).
Blaise waited for an angry remark, or a bitter speech, but got nothing in return. He went to leave; slightly disappointed that Draco had rejected him so easily.
"Zabini, wait." Draco muttered, finally looking up at the other Slytherin. Blaise stopped and spun round on his heel; Draco did not say anymore however Blaise got the message and sat down on the red leather seat opposite the Malfoy.
The majority of the journey was kept in a deadly silence, which was only interrupted when the old woman pushing the cart of sweets around entered the cabin-the two boys did not buy anything. As the day turned dimmer and clouds started to set, Draco was aware that the weather (which was now raining dismally, with the occasional crack of lightning) was a mirror image of his mood, but as the dark castle came into sight, he felt more at ease.
Hogwarts was a magnificent sight to behold, the gothic style building towered over the deep water surrounding it and hundreds of small candlelights, which lit the castle rooms, were being reflected upon the murky pitch-black water lapping gently at the base of the castle. The train station was a short way away from the castle so the school every year had set up carriages, which were seemingly enchanted to be pulled by nothing. Draco however, barely managed to suppress a gasp as he beheld the creatures pulling them. Ghostly horse like creatures with massive wings that spread out over a meter long, stood patiently, 2 to each carriage. The bodies of the horses looked to be made out of bone but they had a sleek glowing effect, emitting a white light (though none could see it). What Draco was shocked about the most was not the fact that he could see these and others could not (he remembered the half giant Hagrid's poor lesson on them, and how you could only see them if you had witnessed a death.) But the see less eyes of the creatures, which drilled into Draco with a pitiless glare, this was what disturbed him the most- they reminded him of death.
"And I have witnessed death," Draco thought, his memory straying back to an evening during the holidays when his father had killed an innocent. A muggle if he had remembered correctly. He had barely enough time to get away without his father noticing that he was watching before he collapsed in a heap upon his bed, weeping for the human's soul he had witnessed departing its body.
"Draco...Draco?" Blaise asked worriedly as he watching the fellow Slytherin stand before the carriage wide eyed and shocked. Draco had a useful talent of covering his feelings behind either a stony or smirking visage and as he turned to fully face his fellow Slytherin with an evil looking smile that looked slightly strained to the untamed eye.
"These carriages look tackier than last year. If I had my way, I wouldn't step in another enchanted battered box like this again."
'Nice,' Draco thought, 'covered that one up well.' Blaise seemed to leave it at that sarcastic comment, only nodding half heartedly in agreement and stepping into the 'battered box'. Draco sighed-it would be a long year.