Disclaimer: OK, I don't own any of this… I wish I owned it, if I did then I could move to Canada and buy myself lots of panties. But sadly I can't stake a claim on any of this unless I want my arse carted off to nasty infringement land.
Warning: SLASHY SLASH SLASH! CAUTION HOMO-NESS PRESENT lots of Hufflepuff bashing, because I don't like the Hufflepuffs, (please excuse my house-ism), umm pretty blonde men, fluffy cuteness, ugly scary tall guys who look like snakes, annoyingly twinkly old men, plus so much more. Eventually it will be all angsty so you tissue hogging crying fan girls like me, pull out your boxes and prepare yourselves (because I will try my hardest), there will be cuddly happy fluff (so anyone who is sickened by this lovey dovey stuff I apologize), and eventually a lot of yummy Draco/Harry goodness. Oh and beware of the spoilers, but really, if you haven't read the 4th book yet, I command you to jump to it, it's my favorite of the series and if you're reading my story instead of it I'm honored but truly it's a terrible shame (on you of course).
Summary: uhh… I'm not good with summaries… plus they give everything away. So just read it…
A/N: OMG I have reviews! This is amazing. I never believed I would get reviews… I didn't figure anyone would actually read it. When my fiancé (who is working as the liaison between me and the internet) told me that I had reviews and bookmarks and hits, I'm pretty sure all of my organs collapsed. I love that people are reading this (I'm also a little nervous) and I'm excited that you like it. I will work harder to write more and more. And please keep reviewing I value input and comments make me absolutely giddy. And I'd also like to say that we should all hail my fantastic Beta whom fixes my grammar (because I type like mad, and make more mistakes then I make words) and posts this for me.
CHAPTER 2
Draco usually dreamt of Quidditch, Quidditch players, broomsticks, the family attorney's son… mostly normal things that teenage boys dream about every day. Tonight was different. As Draco drifted to sleep his dreams were as usual, but something new was there. A small almost unnoticeable voice filled with dread was begging for help, for rescue, and to just die. Noticing this difference, he began searching his dream trying to find the source of these pleas, but as he searched his surroundings faded away leaving him in empty blackness along with the voice.
In the morning, Draco always woke feeling un-rested and anxious; he didn't understand this new twist to his dreams and it was rather disturbing. But these dreams continued; every night there he was in the midst of enjoying some elaborate fantasy when the desperate cries began. Every night the voice seemed to get closer, louder, but never could he locate the source.
The seventh night, the cries turned to screams and shrill heart wrenching yells. Scouring the darkness for the poor being who emitted these shrieks, Draco tried in vain to pry his eyes open further in attempt to see better, only pulling himself into consciousness. As he sat up in bed, he noticed the screams were not in his dreams alone. Somewhere below him was the pitiful soul who sobbed nightly in Draco's dreams.
Calling a house elf he sat up and pulled his sheets around him. He grabbed his wand off the night stand and muttered a spell, causing the lights to flicker to life. He planned to deal with this now instead of losing anymore sleep over some voice somewhere. When the elf arrived, Draco ordered it to lay out an outfit for him as he showered and did his hair, because Malfoys do not go on adventures with bed hair.
"Young master Draco is not goin' to see the pris'ner is her?" Mipsy, had been much like Draco's nurse when he had been smaller, she was brought in specifically for that purpose, she was a tiny thing, much much more ear then elf and timid as can be.
"Depends on if the prisoner is who is making all this racket. Merlin, whoever it is sounds as if they're being killed."
A realization hit him as Mipsy went on. " Oh, they is not killin' 'im sirs, they is never killin' 'im."
"My father is down there isn't he? He is the one doing this ?" Draco's face became cold and angry as he pictured his father torturing some helpless Muggle.
"They is bein' gone in the morning, you can be goin' down then master." The tiny elf then disappeared with a dramatic flap of her ears.
In defeat, Draco collapsed on his bed; the image of his father casting the Cruciatus pictured clearly in his mind. He could clearly imagine Lucius' scowl turn maniacally into a satisfied smirk as his victim writhed in pain, how he would most likely throw his head backwards in laughter as he listened to their incoherent begging. Mortified, because of his relation to his monster of a father, Draco sat staring out his window waiting for sunrise, while he pondered his allegiance. If he were to remain with his father, and in effect with the Dark Lord, he would be willingly sacrificed for their cause or when Voldemort fell he would be thrown into Azkaban if not killed in battle. But if he turned to the side of the light, Moody might want to keep him as his personal ferret, he might be sacrificed anyway, and they might ask him to work as a spy, which endangered him even further. The only plus to either side was that if Dumbledore was triumphant, as he suspected the case would be, he would be spared.
It must have been hours later when Draco was disturbed again. The screams had died down, and light poured into his room. Mipsy cautiously approached him.
"They isn't here no more, I is bring'in an note from the masters." She handed him a crisp envelope as if it contained her very life.
He examined it, finding the usual family crest in a wax seal on the back still warm. Breaking the seal, he unfolded the smooth green paper, and it read in bright silver letters;
Draco,
Though it is during the Yule holidays, I and your mother have business to attend to. I do not expect you to be saddened because of this, for we've spent many a holiday apart. We will be home when the matters at hand have been dealt with. Our return may very well be after your return to Hogwarts, so do not hesitate, as I know you will not, to take command during your stay.
-Your father
Lucius Malfoy
Draco sighed, even in letters his father was a cold, unloving bastard. Sadly, he didn't believe in making political decisions upon personal feelings, otherwise he would have switched long ago.
In the dungeons
A smaller boy sat huddled in a corner. The room smelt of blood both dried and fresh. His pale skin marred with bruises and cuts, he crouched trying to keep warm. The dungeons were cold, and he had lost track of time. He had given up hope; early on he had accepted that no one was going to find him. Now he had been down here in the middle of Merlin-knows-where, and it felt like he was in Hell. What was more, he didn't even know if wizards believed in Hell. Lucius kept coming to see him, so he knew he wasn't in Hell, or what ever it was called in the Wizarding World, unless the Malfoys were connected between the outside world and this place. When the light from his miniscule window dimmed, every night the Death Eaters would arrive and they would torture him to make sure he knew how filthy and defiled he was. The Dark Lord didn't want to kill him anymore, no he wanted him completely broken, Harry thought it maybe was a power thing. But if it was or not didn't really matter because what ever it was it seemed to be working.
In last session, he had given in and let them hear his screams. His screams of pain and sorrow. He let go of every last shred of hope he had been attempting to hold onto that night. He belonged completely these bastards now. They owned him, and it even said so on his chest. Lucius himself had marked him for his. Had taken his wand and burned the name 'Malfoy' into his flesh. The farking sadist had then claimed him, roughly, in front of all of them, as they laughed and scorned his anguish.
Then in a sing song voice Lucius had left saying, "Now be good for me darling. I'll be back later. I have a present for you before I leave though," he had then pulled a thick book out of his cloak which had been lying across the room.
The book was shiny and black, the corners looks sharp, Lucuis looked at in the dim morning light then approached Harry's broken form.
"Now give me a kiss before I go."
When Harry didn't move to obey him, Lucius roughly grasped his face and pulled it up to his own, and kissed him harshly, bruising his already bleeding lips. When he was finished, he thrust harry's face away and brought the book up to look again. With a sinister smirk, he swung the book towards harry's head ruthlessly.
"Never disobey me."
He began to walk away, all the other Death Eaters had disapparated by now, and just outside of Harry's cell Lucius stopped. In a commanding tone he said, "Write in it. I want a record of all your misery. I'll read it to my grandchildren. There is a quill inside, write with your blood, seeing as you've gotten it all over my nice floor."
Note from the Magic Beta: The story should be updated about every Thursday or Friday. The title is still pending because the author is indecisive. :P