A/N: The long awaited next chapter! I swear I had planned to have this up earlier, but real life, as usual got in the way! Also – Tumblr. It's a sick addiction, I know, but if I never answer or you just want to pester me, my URL is: hiddeninthemanor. Or if you want my personal, it's: catnatural.
And thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far! It's amazing that so many of you have read this, but that so many of you have taken the time to tell me that you are reading and enjoying – thank you!
Thank you to the following reviewers: Kitty – help is on its way. Limey – Thank you! I'm glad that you're enjoying it! Angel-Miyu and Torilynneb – More is here, and much more is planned; thank you both for reviewing! Kasumi Wind – No, I really am not sorry about the cliff-hanger…please don't kill me after this one, 'kay? Kagomya – The update is finally here! Sorry about the wait! And KsandraMallan – Wahey! My first stalker! I'm glad you're enjoying it!
And thank you to everyone else who's reading it!
WARNINGS: Swearing, domestic abuse, nsfw , a very brief mention of homophobia – it's a little important to the plot, but not essential as of yet. I still feel like it's important to mention it, however.
Chapter 2 – The Ferret Awakens.
Harry will never know how he managed to successfully apparate to Malfoy's flat without splinching himself, nor will he ever know how he managed to find the location of said flat without losing his temper. After barging his way into the Ministry, he had searched almost blindly for the appropriate documentation, resembling a bull in a china shop. Somehow, he'd made it, and in the years to come, he would marvel over one of the rare moments in his life that incorporated some element of planning ahead, and how maybe Hermione had been right all of these years when she'd complained that he was too impulsive.
He hammered on the door, uncaring as to whether or not he would be confronted by Zabini, knowing if it was him who was to answer the door, Harry wouldn't even use his wand to show the other male just how livid he was with him. Hammering his face into the floor sounded even too good for him, but Harry was confident he could come up with the appropriate punishment should the need arise.
Met with silent, Harry let out a low growl, the letter Malfoy had sent firmly clenched in his left hand, as he used his right to pull out his wand. With a murmured Alohamora, the dark-haired male slipped through the doorway, before promptly drawing to a halt as he was met with the truly horrific sight in front of him. Wincing as his feet crunched over some shattered glass, Harry side-stepped in and trotted through the hallway into the living-room, where he instantly gagged. From his position in the centre of the room, he could see the upturned table in the dining room, the remnants of a meal splattered across the wooden panelled wall complete with shattered dishes and a torn table-cloth. Following the trail of food and what looked suspiciously like blood trails, Harry examined the bloodied fingerprints pressed into doorframes before stumbling across a tiny little owl.
"Hello there…you're the owl who brought me the letter, aren't you?" He observed whilst patting said owl's feathered head, his panic increasing the longer that he was faced with a chilling silence. That, coupled with the worryingly copious amounts of blood smeared around him in the various rooms caused Harry to briefly contemplate the Ministry, but then, would they help out a known ex-Death Eater, and an openly homosexual one at that? Oh, they were fine with the Boy-Who-Lived being gay, but anyone else? Why, that was a press scandal, of course! When Draco Malfoy had been spotted kissing Blaise Zabini outside an ice-cream shop in Paris a while back, it was on the front page and had resulted in a public outcry as well as many claims of disgust at revulsion at the two boys 'flaunting themselves in such a manner, and in public nonetheless'. Harry had no time for people like that – he had far more important things to worry about than the many faces of the public who continuously contradicted themselves with their changing views.
Hearing a gargled cough nearby, sounding horrifyingly and suspiciously like someone was choking on their own blood, Harry lifted his wand a little higher and stepped around the corner to what looked like the bedroom, fighting the urge to throw up at the sight before him. Lying in a huddled heap on the floor was Draco Malfoy, dressed in nothing more than a pair of blood-soaked boxer shorts, every inch of his milky white skin littered with bruises and blood. Cursing loudly, Harry strode forward and dropped to his knees, fighting the urge to reach out, but he did not for fear of spooking the other male and thus aggravating his injuries.
"Draco? Draco…its Harry Potter." Harry whispered soothingly, his panic increasing as the blonde did nothing to show that he'd noticed Harry's arrival. "Can you please open your eyes for me, Draco? It's just me here, you're quite safe, I promise."
"P-Potter…?" Draco finally croaked out and cracked puffy, bloodied eyes open to glance up at Harry, his frail, broken body trembling violently.
"Yeah, Draco, it's just me. You're safe." Harry repeated like a desperate mantra, emerald eyes roaming the body in front of him and mentally cataloguing his injuries before his heart sank. There was no way he could take care of this himself, not with his very limited medical knowledge – he would probably do more harm than good. "Draco…you're really hurt, you need to go to St. Mungo's, alright? I'll call for- " He broke off then and eyed the other male with increasing panic as he began to sob and shake his head, reaching out with a gnarled, smashed fist. "Draco?"
"Not…Mungo's….Dark Mark." He choked out with a pained grunt, his bruised eyelids failing to open very far. "Hate me."
"I don't hate you, Draco. I don't know if I ever truly did." Harry sighed in resignation and ever so slowly scooped the other male into his arms, frowning in concern at how light he was. He could feel and see Draco's ribs and it was that revelation that caused him to pull the blonde a little closer until he was cradling him against his chest. "I'll take you to my place then, just for now, alright? Is there anything you need from here?" He glanced around, not all too willing to rummage through the blonde's possessions – Zabini could come back at any time, after all. But then, Draco had been stripped of his pride and his dignity, so the least Harry could do would be to honour any requests that he might have.
"Wand." Draco whispered into Harry's neck , his unbroken fingers clutching at Harry's cloak as he flirted with unconsciousness. "Just that."
Nodding, Harry summoned the wand and pocketed it, glanced around once more, before apparating to Grimmauld Place, clutching the blonde against him.
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Draco passed out the moment Harry apparated him, his frail body lolling in his arms, covering the other male's cloak in blood. Scrunching up his nose as the coppery scent hit his nostrils, Harry lowered Draco onto his bed, before summoning a bowl of water, a sponge and some disinfectant. Feeling rather uncomfortable at the task he was about to undertake, but relieved that Draco was passed out for it, Harry began to gently wash the blood from Draco's torso, gasping at the sight of the previously milky white skin now marred with deep welts and scars, boot-prints and bruises as well as what looked like a few random bite-marks. Swallowing his revulsion as well as the intense desire to murder Zabini in the most gruesome way possible, Harry gazed at the unconscious face on his former rival, and sighed.
He looked so young, and so innocent – two words that Harry would have never used against him until now. But then…hadn't Draco always been innocent in his own way – used by his parents and the dark side to fight a war in which he was really too young to ever have been a part of in the first place? Why, he was like Harry in a way…used to carry out tasks that no child should ever have to consider, never-mind undertaking. And despite having survived it all, if Draco was anything like Harry, he surely carried his own mental scars as well as long nights plagued with remembering it all.
Methodically and robotically scrubbing the dirt, grime and blood from the skin, it wasn't long before Harry eventually finished, banishing the cloth and water, before chewing his lip. He'd left the blonde in his boxers due to his discomfort to remove any more of Draco's dignity, knowing that when he finally awoke, he would be less than pleased. Harry knew all too well how it worked as he'd learned from his readings – Draco would more than likely be defensive and terrified, as well as subdued and untrusting. Harry feared that all their old rivalries would resurface but he simply couldn't turn Draco away! Not after everything.
Eventually deeming the blonde to be as clean as Harry could make him, he covered him up with an old, frayed blanket and tucked it up under his bony shoulders, absently noting how like this (despite all of his injuries and his less-than-healthy appearance, Draco could be considered a very handsome male. Cursing his libido for its impeccably awful timing, Harry sighed dramatically and shuffled out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar in order to give Draco some privacy, but also so that Harry could hear if any problems arose.
~/~
The nightmares started a couple of hours later, when Harry was curled up on his armchair with his Auror's notes, scanning them with eager eyes in the category of 'Domestic Abuse: When a Loved One Suddenly Turns'. Confirming his earlier suspicions, Harry was intrigued to note that many victims of domestic abuse chose to return to their partners, even after being taken away from the home, simply because they claimed that the partner loved them and no-one else would. Harry didn't really know Draco enough to agree with that or form his own theory as to the other two's volatile relationship, but that didn't stop him pondering over the possibilities. After the war, the Malfoy's had been stripped of all of their material possessions and a large proportion of their money, leaving them with the bare minimum and that was barely enough to survive of. Lucius Malfoy had of course gone to Azkaban, although it was never quite clear as to Narcissa's fate – rumour was that she had gone insane after Lucius's departure, and Harry could well imagine being cooped up in that Manor for long periods at a time was enough to drive anyone to insanity. It certainly explained most of Draco's behaviour at any rate.
But why Zabini? That was one thing that Harry's mind couldn't comprehend. The two had been best friends at Hogwarts, but they'd never seemed that close – simply friends in Harry's eyes. But then again, Harry was never the most observant being, and he had been rather preoccupied back in his schooldays, so it was high likely that he'd missed everything. That lead onto a few more questions – if Draco and Zabini had been a couple at Hogwarts – had Zabini been violent then? Or did the abuse start up later on, and if so, why had Draco stayed with him? Surely someone like Draco; an ex-Death Eater with no money and no qualifications had some options? Harry couldn't be sure and the only way to find out was to await said blonde's awakening…which from the sounds in the next room was much sooner than Harry had perceived.
A soon as a faint strangled wail echoed through the wall, Harry was on his feet instantly, his hand curled around the doorknob as he called out softly, "Malfoy? It's me, can I come in?" He hesitated then, upon hearing no response bar an intake of breath, and he pushed the door open, his heart sinking at the sight before him. Draco was pressed up against the headboard, trembling violently with the sheets clutched up to his chin and tears were continuously streaming down his pale, bony cheeks. Fixing Harry with a look of terror, that quickly morphed into one of pure loathing, the blonde choked out, "W-what did you do, Potter?"
"What did I do?" Harry repeated, sounding quite perplexed. Perhaps Draco had been hit on the head – an area Harry had forgotten to examine earlier. He made to move forward, but stilled when Draco flinched violently and hunched in on himself.
"W-why am I nearly naked and in your bed? Where's B-Blaise? Oh…I am in so much t-trouble…" He moaned and buried his face in his hands, sniffing pitifully.
"Zabini nearly murdered you, you idiot! I saved you!"
"W-what? He…no!" Draco screeched loudly, causing Harry to wince at the sheer volume of the blonde's hysterical tone. "He l-loves me a-and-"
Holding up a hand, Harry stilled Draco's stuttering, eyeing him incredulously. "Are you really that stupid, Draco? He uses you as a fucking punch bag, and you honestly think that he loves you? You deserve better than- what are you doing? Lie back down before you fall down!"
"N-no!" Draco snapped defiantly, staggering forward on wobbly knees to prod Harry in the chest, swaying from side to side. "G-give me my clothes and…and t-take me home!" Flinching then, he shuffled backwards and slumped back onto the bed, trembling as if the few moves had exhausted him of all his energy. "P-please…"
"Draco…" Harry sighed softly and dropped to his knees, lowering himself to the smaller male's level. "You don't have to lie to me, or hide things from me. I know exactly what he's doing to you, like I told you the other day." He hesitated then as the blonde deliberately averted his eyes and pulled the sheets over his bony torso, clearly hiding his skin from Harry's gaze. After a moment, he turned to Harry with impossibly wide eyes and opened his mouth, tears gathering in his silver eyes. It was obvious that he was about to speak, but Harry never did find out what he wanted to say, for at the moment Ron and Hermione burst into the room, Hermione's eyes bulging wide as she let out a faint squeak, and Ron promptly dropped the large box he was holding in his hand.
After a long, awkward silence, the red-head whirled to face Harry, his jaw clenched as an expression of disbelief flickered across his face. "Erm…Harry? You are aware that there's a bruised and battered ferret hogging your bed, right? I've not gone completely mental, have I?"
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A/N: Can that be classed as a cliff-hanger? Mwuhahaha. I don't think so, but hey. Who knows? Thank you for reading, and again, I am so sorry for the late update! Exams and work and real life…such evil things, aren't they?
