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Chapter 2

Quiet

With a flick of Malfoy's wand Harry was face down on the floor and with another one he was thrown through the doorway to his right into the next room. There was a lush king-sized bed in there and in a moment Malfoy grabbed Harry by the back of his robes and dragged him onto it. The Gryffindor managed to kick his assaulter's chest and tried to twist out of his grip before magic binds tied his hands to the bedposts.

Malfoy snarled and straddled him from behind pressing down on his shoulders and trying to subdue him. Harry thrashed and bucked uselessly. His legs were spread open by Malfoy's knees and his feet were tied to the bedposts, too. With another spell his robes and the jeans he wore underneath were ripped apart hanging from his body in places. Malfoy's hands were on his underpants pulling them down by the elastic and kneading his arse-cheeks.

"Let me go! Let me go, you bastard!" Harry's voice took on a high shrieking pitch but he couldn't even be embarrassed about it. Malfoy pinched his arse harshly and tore his briefs down his thighs.

"That's it, Potter." There was a rustling of fabric behind him and Harry realized that Draco was taking off his clothes. Harry thrashed harder but all it earned him was a bite on the shoulder and a slap on the bum. He could feel Malfoy's body moving against his, his still clothed erection hard and heavy against his thigh.

Malfoy spat on Harry's arse crack and spread the saliva around with his thumb. It felt so wrong. Harry's body was shivering violently, the fingers on his arse were foreign and dangerous, the spit – still mixed with blood, no doubt – made him feel unclean. Malfoy's thumb was still moving, barely pushing inside his opening. The Slytherin spat down once again and then pushed in two fingers at the same time.

Somehow that was too much. Something just snapped and suddenly Harry's limbs were free and Malfoy was thrown violently against the opposite wall. There was blood trickling down Harry's thighs from the rough way the other boy's fingers were jerked out and the Gryffindor pressed his legs together and moved higher up the bed.

His whole body was still shaking and he didn't even register straight away that he was hiccuping loudly and sobbing without tears. Harry only realized that when he heard Malfoy muttering something like "Potter" from the floor.

Malfoy was suddenly up and moving and Harry flinched violently before it became clear that the blond wasn't trying to approach him again. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Malfoy disappearing behind another door and in the next moment there was the sound of retching. Harry sobbed harder.

He couldn't seem to stop gasping for air and shivering. He thought vaguely that he should probably try to run right now but his body still felt paralyzed with fear and he felt so drained from his magical outburst. He didn't even notice falling asleep.

Harry didn't know how long he was out. He guessed he must have slept through the night since he remembered waking in the dark at some point. Now he could feel weak winter sunlight through his eyelids. The bed he was in was soft and nice but Harry still didn't feel quite comfortable. His body was aching faintly.

Suddenly he could feel somebody's presence in the room and that made him jump up and clutch the sheets to his body. He looked around wildly but couldn't make out anything but faint shapes. His glasses were nowhere to be seen and his eyes felt so swollen…

"Draco?" Female voice. Slightly muffled, probably coming from the next room. That's right there was a sitting room and then the bedroom where Draco Malfoy tied Harry to the bed and… His breathing started accelerating and the shapes and shadows in the room tilted dangerously.

Before Harry could work himself up into a full-scale panic attack there was a gasp of "Oh Merlin!" and a figure of a woman in his immediate line of sight.

"Mister Potter? Mister Potter, are you alright?" soft hands covered his own that were gripping the bedsheets tightly and Harry forced himself to calm down. "Wait just a moment," murmured the voice of Narcissa Malfoy and after a couple of beats Harry's glasses were put back on his face.

Harry blinked a few times as the world came into focus. His eyes still felt swollen and he could feel the skin on his forehead and thighs pulled tight with the crust of dried blood. He must have looked quite a sight because Narcissa was calling a house elf – Dobby, a familiar name – ordering him to bring a bottle of pain relieving potion, some healing salve, a bowl of water and a clean cloth.

She pushed Harry back into the bed carefully and pried off the sheets without a word. Harry's body wanted to protest instinctively but he realized that she meant him no harm and made himself relax. At the sight of his torn clothes and cuts and bruises on his wrists and ankles Mrs. Malfoy's breath hitched but she remained otherwise composed. She banished the remains of his clothes and silently set to work on healing him.

Harry could see her hands trembling slightly and could guess that she was healing him for her own sake as much as for his – she must have thought that as long as she couldn't see the damage her son inflicted, she could pretend it never happened. Still, Harry was grateful. Her gentle touches calmed him down somewhat and her care made him forget for a moment that he was a prisoner in this house. She even ordered the elves to bring him some fresh clothes and a breakfast afterwards.

"Thank you," Harry said as she was heading out. The hoarseness of his own voice surprised him. Narcissa paused at the door and nodded briskly before leaving the room.

It was… weird, Harry thought on his second night at the Manor. He couldn't exactly say that it was not what he expected from his captivity since he never even contemplated what being a… hostage of war would be like. But he certainly would never have guessed it to be like this.

After he got dressed and chewed his breakfast mechanically in the morning he spent the day studying his surroundings and not thinking about what happened the day before. Draco's quarters consisted of a sitting room and a bedroom that he had already seen, a luxurious bathroom done in white marble, ivory and silver and a private study. The door to the study (the one on the left that he noticed when he first came in) was locked but Harry managed to peek through the keyhole and see a spacious mahogany desk and some dark bookshelves.

Huge windows that took up the entire walls in the sitting room and the bedroom were charmed closed, too. Most likely to keep the winter chill away as opposed to keeping the prisoners in. Harry supposed he could break them from the inside by throwing something heavy in them but that would still leave him with two storeys to jump and wast expense of snow to cross. His wand was in the house somewhere but Harry had no idea where it could be.

Narcissa had locked the door that connected the sitting room with the hallway, so for now the windows were his only escape option. Harry was reluctant to try them, though, because the sound of breaking glass was bound to attract the house elves if no-one else and he doubted he could make it out of the Malfoy garden let alone through the snowy countryside without any direction or the help of his wand. Besides, blowing up an escape attempt would mean that the security would be re-enforced and the next break out would be more difficult to conceive.

No matter how badly it set his teeth on edge, waiting was wiser.

So, Harry had lunch and chatted up Dobby the house elf who brought him his food. He was a weird little fellow and seemed to take some liking to the captured Potter heir. The elf said that he had heard all about Harry's noble nature, his grace on broom and the adventures he went on in his years at Hogwarts. The Gryffindor stowed this knowledge away for future uses.

He spent the afternoon slouching around the sitting room and reading the books he managed to find there. The night found him here – curled up on a sofa in the sitting room (he didn't want to sleep in that bed) and wondering how the others who were brought to the Manor with him were doing. He hoped they stuck together.

He didn't see Draco until the next night. To be honest, by the time Malfoy returned Harry already felt like he was slowly going insane. Dobby couldn't stay and chat with him for long since the elf had other duties around the house and Mrs. Malfoy didn't show up on his third day. Everything was horribly quiet here and Harry felt like a ghost slinking from one room to another pointlessly. So, he was almost glad to see Malfoy even though the blond made his skin crawl.

The Slytherin stood in the doorway silently for a few moments carefully observing Harry who was once again curled up on the sofa. Probably noting the absence of injuries or maybe coming to some other internal decision.

Slowly Malfoy came up to Harry making the Gryffindor boy sit up and tense.

"Are you okay?" Malfoy asked and Harry snorted.

"What do you think?"

"Well, you look okay," Malfoy said somewhat petulantly. Harry was surprised he didn't cross his arms on his chest and stomp his foot.

"That's 'cause your mother came here yesterday and healed me," Harry felt satisfaction when Malfoy flinched at the mention of his mother. Good. Let him be ashamed.

The Slytherin stared at Harry for few more moments. He looked pale – paler than usual. His eyes seemed shifty. They were roaming Harry's body, never leaving it yet never staying at any place for more than a couple of seconds.

"Come with me. You are not sleeping here," he said finally before turning away.

For a moment Harry felt absurdly hopeful when he thought that Malfoy would return him to the basement. Then he saw the blond entering the bedroom. The Gryffindor stayed put.

There were some fumbling sounds from the other room and after a few minutes Malfoy re-emerged without his outer robe and with his shirt undone.

"Don't make me drag you in there, Potter."

"Don't make me bash your head against the wall," retorted Harry.

Malfoy sighed and then scowled, "I won't touch you. But you are going to sleep there."

He pointed his wand at Harry and levitated him off the sofa. At least this time he didn't knock him into the furniture. Harry wondered if he was going insane for thinking that was any better.

"Really, Malfoy? You can't get laid, so you resort to this? I always knew you were pathetic but this has to be a new low." Malfoy dropped him on the bed abruptly. With another spell Harry's limbs suddenly felt sluggish as though all strength was drained from them. He couldn't even move his tongue without fear that his next clever insult would come out as a drunken slur.

Malfoy finished undressing without looking at Harry. He donned a pair of pajama pants and laid next to the Gryffindor boy carefully arranging both of their bodies to his liking. Harry blinked with some effort. Despite what was said earlier, he still fully expected Malfoy to take advantage of him but the blond only slung an arm across Harry's torso and pulled him closer.

"Sleep, Potter," he grumbled closing his eyes.

Harry spent half the night contemplating his new-found occupation as Malfoy's snuggle pillow.

To be continued...

AN: My apologies to everyone who got to see that first mangled version of the first chapter – that's exactly what I meant about fanfiction net being terrible. It has taken me just a few minutes to sort it out but still things like that shouldn't happen.

So, how do you guys like the story so far? Oh! Here's another little change from the canon – since it was Neville who experienced most of the adventures in the second book Dobby is still a Malfoy house elf. (I love Neville but he would never have enough cunning to free our favorite nuisance).

Tell me what you think and see you soon!