CHAPTER FOUR

Disclaimer: Neither the characters or locations are mine; they belong to J. K. Rowling and various affiliated companies. No plagiarism or copyright infringement is intended. All characters will be returned safe and sound with smiles on their faces and food in their bellies. :D

A/N: uh…words in my head whilst writing this: My guilt, and my shame always sell me short, always feel the same, and my face, and my soul, always wear me thin, always under control (Sulfur – Slipknot) How perfect are Slipknot songs for this fic? I mean really…it's ridiculous.

'MALFOY!'

The cry rang out through the halls, waking students and teachers alike.

'MALFOY!'

The Slytherin rooms were abuzz with muffled whispers about their house leaders' anger with his godson.

'MALFOY!'

Draco stepped meekly from his room, his eyes red from the tears he had shed. His godfather didn't notice this as he grabbed the boy by the arm and dragged him bodily into his office.

'WHY DRACO? WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN THINKING?'

The volume of his godfather's rage stung Draco's ears and he winced.

'I…I don't quite understand.'

'YOU- How many terrible acts have you committed tonight?'

'I…what?'

'You raped Potter!' Severus hissed, putting a name to his rage.

'Oh…I wouldn't exactly call it that…'

Draco stopped as Severus' hands wrapped themselves around his neck, seemingly of their own accord, throttling the boy. As he strangled his godson, the memory he'd received from Harry flooded Draco's senses. He heard Harry's cries, his begging and pleading, felt his pain. There was only one thing Draco could not decipher from the memory, and that was the words Harry had been whispering. Severus would not grant him access to those.

'How could you do that Draco? You, of all people… Do you even have the remotest idea of what you have done? Do you even care? I won't sit here and watch you turn into your father!'

Severus released Draco, who crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath. And the tears fell. He sobbed, his body shaking with the effort of it. He curled up in a ball on the carpet, sickened by himself. He was a monster. Severus stared down at the snivelling mess that had only moments ago been his godson, cool as a cucumber. He fell to his knees beside the boy and pulled him into an awkward hug, wanting to comfort him, his rage diminished.

'How could I do that to him?' Draco whispered.

Severus heard the self-loathing in his godson's voice and smoothed the boy's hair with his hands, so clumsy against a child's face.

'I just…I'm a monster. After what happened to me…how could I inflict that pain on someone else? I just wanted him to get out of my head, and now he won't fucking leave, ever! Is he…is he ok?'

'Under the circumstances, he is better where he is now than if he was conscious. When he wakes his world will come crashing down.'

Draco sighed, the tears slowing. But the feeling of utter despair at having caused Harry such hurt was driving him mad. So was the niggling thought at the back of his mind that he might actually be in love with the boy.

'What the hell happened?' Severus asked softly.

'I- I lost control…' Draco responded, eyes downcast.

'Seems to me you had plenty of control, Draco. Tell me, did he ever say "no", or "don't"?'

Severus knew the answer; he simply wanted to force Draco to see the truth. Draco nodded mournfully, swallowing back bile. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and he vomited onto the floor and his godfather's robes.

'Sorry…' he croaked before falling into forgiving darkness.

Severus sighed and for the second time that night took an unconscious child to the infirmary.

--

Draco awoke, for a moment blissfully unaware of anything. Then it all came rushing back in and he curled his knees to his chest in a futile attempt to ease the stabbing pains he was feeling. He watched Madame Pomfrey in her ministrations to the only other patient in the room: Harry. Draco realized that Severus hadn't told her…either that or they were truly punishing Harry, who was currently lying on his bed, staring at Draco, his entire body tensed, terrified. Draco covered his face with his hands, but could still see emerald eyes, brimming with tears. He also could hear sobbing, a wretched heart-breaking sound…until he realized it was coming from him. No longer heart-breaking, merely shameful. He tried to stem the sobs but couldn't and began to panic; he was losing control. He focused hard on his breathing, driving the panic down. A sharp intake of breath from the other bed caused Draco to look up in surprise. Harry was clutching his head; his body was trembling as it had the first day back, in the alcove. That all seemed so long ago now. Harry cried out and Madame Pomfrey rushed to his side, muttering soothing words. Draco seized the opportunity to slip out, unnoticed.

--

Weeks had passed and Draco was settling back into the school routine. He couldn't so much as hear Harry's voice without bile rising in his throat, and to look at him caused stabbing pain to flare in his head and abdomen. But he couldn't escape the vision of emerald eyes; they tortured him in what little sleep he could catch. He hadn't spoken about that night, and Blaise and Pansy intuitively knew that to ask about it would be a mistake. Draco was beneath the bleachers watching the Gryffindor's quidditch practice, watching Harry. He was nursing the pain, feeling it grow inside him, wanting to be punished so bad. He heard footsteps behind him and turned, not caring who it was. A flash of red and Draco doubled over in pain, a soft oof accompanying the out rush of air. He peered into the faces of his attackers; the Weasley brothers, Ron and…the twins…Fred and George, their faces as red as their hair. So Harry told them, Draco thought as he was hit again. And again. He could taste the rich copper of blood and smirked, enjoying the physical beating. Real tangible pain from a real tangible source. He was pushed to the ground, assailed by kicks. He felt the satisfying crunch and blinding pain of a rib fracture. He heard the other members of the team come close and prayed they wouldn't stop it; he was finally getting the punishment he deserved. They turned a blind eye. Draco felt the pain blooming around his body and collapsed into darkness, hoping they would just kill him.

--

Draco awoke in agonizing pain, coughing up blood. It was less than he deserved, he knew that. He tried to stand but couldn't find the strength. He closed his eyes and waited for death. He felt a trembling hand touch his back and flinched at the pain even such a gentle sensation caused. He breathed in and could tell who it was by their scent: Harry. Warm breath tickled his ear as a whisper told him to hold on until help arrived. Draco wished even more that the Weasley's had killed him; this was unfair. He opened his eyes and saw green ones full of terror and…pity. Draco angered; he wanted no pity. He deserved no pity, especially from the one he had wronged so violently.

'Pity me not, Potter. Leave me to die.' Draco spat vehemently.

Harry darted off, leaving Draco to wallow in disgust and self-loathing.