Title: Tainted
Author: Mel Harry Potter
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasely
Warnings: Spoilers for HBP! Violence, Adult Themes.
Summary: Silence is Golden
Disclaimer: The World of Harry Potter belongs to miss Rowling. I'm just boring it
Author's Notes: 'Tainted' is a rewrite of a very old story by the same name. Very few of you will remember it, and this is completely different from the original story.
Contains spoilers for Half-Blood Prince
---
Tainted Chapter 2
-I want to hold you high
And steal your pain away-
--- Seether
At times the whole world revolved inwards.
Usually his world revolved outwards. Who to impress and what to wear. The right thing to say and the person to shun. It was easy to do; his life had always been like that. Please his playmates, his classmates, and his mother. His father. And then HIM. He was the hardest to please; he was also the one who had come closest to breaking him. That would make him laugh if he ever realised.
Now, none of that mattered anymore. The whole world could fade away and it wouldn't matter. Being in dark places had always done that. There always had to be light, sun, star or flame; it didn't matter. If there couldn't be light there had always been someone with him, he was never, ever, alone in the dark.
He could have only been here hours, but it started to feel like days. Maybe even years.
He had started screaming some time ago.
He wasn't much too look at anymore. Once proud and haughty expression long gone, twisted in fear. His pale skin was dirty, his cheeks dripping with blood where his fingers had started digging into his skin. What had been fine and soft hair was like straw, muddy. His grey eyes were unfocused and panicked, the pupil almost too big for his eye. He knelt, curled into a little ball around himself, hands pressed against his ears. They could have been blocking out his own screams or something else entirely.
Draco Malfoy was a broken boy.
---
"They say he was found in a raid."
"A kid? He can't be any older then my girls!"
"Well, don't tell anyone I told you, but they say he's responsible for the whole Hogwarts mess."
"I thought it had to be something like that, why else would a school boy be down here, you know? How long have they been questioning him for?"
"No one's in there, he's been screaming like a banshee for a few hours now."
"And you haven't silenced him?"
"They want us to be able to hear anything he could confess to. You know what these procedures are like."
"I guess, it'd drive me batty though. They took his wand from him right?"
"Of course, officially broken and everything."
"Oh, he's stopped. Do you reckon everything's ok?"
"Yeah, probably just passed out. If they find him guilty he'll be killed."
"Poor tyke, probably deserved it though, getting involved with that dark magic's always dicey. Cant be too careful who your friends are anymore."
"Shame that."
---
"Are you hurt?"
Draco looked up, his screaming stopping. He knew who he was looking at, though he didn't quiet believe it.
"How are you here, Potter? You can't Apparate this deep into the Ministry."
The figure shrugged a little, bowed at the waist over Draco's kneeling body. He wore a billowing white shirt, his glasses askew and one lenses splinted. His skin seemed to glow in the bits that weren't covered in splattered blood. It took a moment for Draco to realise Potter wasn't actually there, he was either a ghost, or projection of his soul. In this place Draco couldn't be sure, in the dark Potter could be a figment of his breaking mind.
"Are you in any pain?"
Draco nodded silently. He wasn't really speaking, his mouth wasn't moving. It echoed inside his mind though, it felt wonderful, like his mother use to whisper to him in the dark.
"There's a curse on the both of us."
"A curse?"
"If you let me I can make it easier."
"You're daft. Are you sure you're Potter? He'd never help me."
There was a short smile. "I wouldn't, would I? But things change, and without you I'm stuck in this curse too. So to help you, helps me too."
Draco stared at the figure of his nemesis for a long moment. "They're going to kill me."
"Then all hope dies. Let me save us."
For the longest time Draco stared at the shredded skin under his fingernails. "What do I have to do?"
"We have to both live in silence for a little while."
Looking into the calm face, Draco nodded, "you won't leave me alone? I can't be alone."
"Of course not, we're both cursed aren't we? Better to be in it with someone then alone." Harry pressed icy lips to Draco's forehead, and Draco's world fell into silence.
---
Potter kept him company when the edges of the darkness crept too close. Draco was just grateful for the company; even if it was the person he hated the most. Anything was better then being alone.
"Isn't your body missing you?" Draco asked at one stage.
"Probably not." The thin spirit sat beside him, his presence comforting, even with the splattered blood. "My body isn't missing a lot at the moment."
"You're dead?" The thought was a little disturbing.
"Not dead, trapped, I guess. I won't know until we get back to it."
Draco snorted. "So we're stuck with each other? Brilliant curse this one, Potter, think it up all by yourself or did Weasel have a hand in it?"
Potter smiled, "you drew me here, twat, this is as much your fault as it's mine."
Rolling his eyes their conversation stopped as the door swung open, surprising Draco as he was showered with light. With his arm shielding his eyes he felt the brush of Potter's presence against his skin.
"They can't tell I'm here, so don't talk to me, they'll think your bonkers."
Draco bit back a laugh. They probably already did. It also made him wonder if perhaps Potter wasn't there. Maybe he was a product of his own madness. The thought didn't bode well and Draco hoped that Potter was really standing beside him as his vision began to clear.
Two wizards stood above him. Draco couldn't be sure who they were. Their robes were black and their faces grim. It didn't take much too realise how much trouble he was in.
"Breathe Malfoy, I'm right here." Taking Potter's advice he took a slow breath.
It surprised Draco a little when one wizard opened his mouth, speaking to Draco. Draco heard nothing. Shaking his head he tried to clear his ears with no luck. There was no sound. They stood, waiting for him to answer, to respond. This is what it meant to be in silence.
When he didn't move, they lifted him up, dragging his body out of the tiny room. He glared quietly at the floating figure of Potter who glided along beside them. The boy shrugged, a 'told you so' smirk gracing is lips. Draco wondered if he would be considered insane for hating a something that wasn't really there.
He managed to get his feet under him when they hit the stairs. They were too narrow and they had to go up one at a time, Draco between the two wizards. He moved over a little to make room for Potter, thanking Merlin the boy was small and he wasn't running into walls. The stairs went on for ever and Potter's words kept him moving. His legs grew numb and his breathing became shallow. Potter told him he looked a right sight and Draco had to bite back a sharp reply. That smirk was irritating.
"It's the curse," Potter told him. "It will tire us both all the time."
Wonderful, so not only was he deaf, but he would feel like this all the time. Really, he was beginning too wish he'd just put up with the dark and madness. He glared a little at Potter, but there was nothing he could do. The curse was the same for them both, and even though Potter seemed to know what he was on about, the curse seemed to be something neither could control.
The stairway ended, a dark corridor leading out before them. Draco moved a little closer to Potter and the floating boy patted his arm gently. He couldn't tell if the men were talking to him or not, not that it really mattered because he wouldn't be able to answer them but it would be nice to know. They stopped at an old wooden door, knocking on it. When the door opened Draco had time to see an old man before the magic washed over him and he fell into oblivion.
---
The minister of magic tapped his foot lightly. Finally the doctor sighed, looking up from his charge and over to the minister. He put his wand away, pushing his white hair from his face. The impatient in the gesture was not a good sign and Rufus Scrigeour knew he would not like what the man was about to tell him.
"There's strong magic on the boy." He said slowly, collecting his thoughts. "I can't understand it all, but it could be a subtler form Imperius curse, but there's something more to it."
"More how?"
"It reeks of old blood magic, bonding. Wild magic. But I've never heard of a Wizard with this much threaded with his own magic. I can't tell if it's a creation of You Know Who, or if it's something he's stumbled upon on his own."
"He's not fit to be tried, is he?" The Minister sighed when the doctor shook his head.
"The boy's not fit to be left by himself until we know the nature of the magic. I have a few Wizards who work with wild magic in Egypt and Greece, but it will take time to find out if they're even alive let alone if they can leave their work to help us here. Wild magic is dangerous to work with, even if the object is thousands of years old. Putting him in a situation that's going to make him emotionally unstable could be disastrous."
Looking at the blonde boy couldn't see what could be the harm. Then again, this was the same child who had made it possible for Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts. "What should we do with him? I can't put him on trial. I can't without the trial execute him, it'll make a martyr of him. Could he go to Azkaban?"
"Merlin no," the man looked shocked by the suggestion. "I don't know much of the magic, but he'll either explode, possibly taking out Britain with him, or the Wild Magic will grow stronger." The Minister stared at the man and he shifted, old screwing up in thought. "You could put him with Wizards, strong Wizards. It might just keep the magic in check. I can try to contact the experts in it, but for now," the doctor looked at the boy. "All we can do is wait."