However, enjoy, please.
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Harry awoke some time later, to Draco's sleepy mumbling. He rubbed his eyes and watched the teen toss and turn. His face was troubled and he was saying something. Harry focused hard, trying to decipher the jumble of words. All he got out of it was pleas and whines. He looked to the thick curtains and saw light from outside trying to come through, into the dark room. It must be day.
"Malfoy, wake up." He didn't want to act any differently, as far as they were both concerned, all these meetings were, were violent fights that got a bit too 'physical'. The silver eyes cracked open to see Harry standing and stretching. The dark haired boy looked back with bright green eyes to find Draco rising. "You'd better get home, Lucius won't be happy if he catches you again."
"Again?" Draco demanded. Harry raised an eyebrow and turned to go into the kitchen. "Hey, get back here!" He however didn't turn back, so Draco threw on his wrinkled slacks and followed into the kitchen to find Harry putting a piece of bread in some muggle box. "What the hell do you mean 'again'?"
"Come on Malfoy, even if you hadn't have told me, I could easily have figured it out." Harry stated, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. He put the jug into a small fridge and turned to Draco, frowning slightly. "You really don't remember?" Draco scowled deeply, thanking Merlin that he hadn't thrown up last night. Apparently, he'd spilled his guts figuratively.
"What are you on about? What did I say?" He demanded. Harry took a drink and pulled toast from the muggle box. He threw it on a plate and searched for butter in the mini fridge.
"Last night you told me that the bastard hurts you." Harry said offhandedly, as though he was talking about the weather. Draco's jaw dropped. "Come on, you think I don't know scars when I see them? I suggest you refrain from cutting yourself though." Harry added on. He was simply eating as though this were a normal conversation. Draco was embarrassed, worried and terrified. Not to mention, confused as Hell.
"But, how?" He didn't know what to say. Harry took another bite ad showed Draco his underarm on his left side. Scars and scabs littered it, making it looks decorated. Draco turned up his own, finding the matching marks. He stormed back into the bedroom, threw on his shirt and buttoned it, fuming the whole time. How much had he told, or had the boy just figured it out? He searched for his wand through his pockets and performed a spell to remove his hangover. Not even wanting to see Potter anymore, he apparated away with a loud pop. Harry shook his head in the other room, hoping the boy would be smart enough to hold his tongue.
When Draco arrived home, he glanced to Blaise's house and wondered if he and Pansy had accomplished what he'd managed with Potter. He went into his house and looked for any source of his father. Seeing none, he snuck up the stairs toward his room. He got about three steps when someone cleared their throat behind him. He swallowed and turned slowly.
"Sev." He greeted, jumping slightly when seeing his father behind his godfather. "Father." He added. Lucius was glaring and Snape was scowling. Lucius pointed to the ground in front of them and Draco slowly descended the steps, stopping just out of Snape's reach.
"Where have you been?" Snape demanded. Draco wondered why his father was saying nothing.
"Out." He said shortly, not wishing to say.
"Blaise came looking for you. He seemed upset. What happened?" Snape asked once more, his monotone voice cutting into Draco like the beady eyes.
"Nothing, I just went out." He stepped back and wanted to leave, but Lucius' cane swished out from behind Snape and hit him in the shoulder. Snape glanced disapprovingly to Lucius, but he ignored it and pushed past the greasy haired man.
"Have you seen yourself?" He asked in a calm voice, too calm. Draco tried to glance away to look for a mirror of sorts, but his father held his eyes. "I'll meet you in my study to discuss last night." He made it final, but Draco was afraid. He tried to catch his godfather's eye, but Snape was looking down, avoiding the family problem.
"Father, please, I'm sorry." He begged, hoping he wouldn't be forced to tell where he was.
"I can smell the alcohol Draco. I can only imagine what you've done. Does it not register to you that people see you, and whatever you're doing reflects on the Malfoy line?" Lucius tilted his head a bit and his eyes shadowed. The long strands of blonde hair were pulled back with a deep red ribbon. It reminded Draco of the blood that he spilled frequently, and would probably soon again lose. "My study." He ordered, pointing up the stairs. Draco's eyes met the marble floor and he trudged up the steps silently, beginning to tremble. What if he had to remove his shirt? He was fairly sure that his skin was covered with bite marks and scratches.
Draco closed himself in the large room and looked around. It really was too large a room for anyone. Two armchairs and a desk decorated the room, besides a large stone fireplace against one wall. A few small bookshelves lined the walls, but the room was mostly empty space. Draco knew what was locked in the desk drawers though. He'd been most unfortunate to be on the receiving end of a triple strapped leather thong once. The piece now populated the small bottom drawer that remained locked. The others were normal with papers or inks. Only the bottom left was to be feared. The furniture was deep red and leather, the wood a deep cherry. The walls were covered with thick maroon draperies, the floor matched the dark wood, but had one large round carpet in the same deep blood of the wall hangings, centered. No windows lit the room, only artificial glowing from the ceiling magic lit the dull room.
Draco stood in the center, feeling small and worrying about what was to come. Soon enough the door cracked open and Lucius snuck into the room like a shadow, the door locking behind him. His wand was out, ready for anything and he faced his son, death glare deep in his eyes, terrifying Draco.
"Draco, tell me now what you did. If you lie, or don't tell me, you'll suffer greater." He drawled, stalking circles around the pale boy. Draco looked up and followed the tall man with his eyes, but not daring to move. He couldn't possibly tell! He'd die of humiliation and probably pain. Lucius wouldn't find out, would he?
"I went to a bar." Draco said shortly, trying to be as brief as possible.
"And?" Lucius demanded, knowing there was more.
"And bought a drink." His father stood before him, scowl on his dark lips.
"How did you manage that? You're not of age." Draco breathed deep for a second before answering.
"I bought it off from the bartender." This made his father smirk a bit.
"Money can buy anything, now can't it?" He muttered. Draco wasn't sure if he was supposed to say anything or not, so he chose to remain silent. "What happened afterward?" He asked, turning the glare to his son again.
"Nothing, I stayed at a motel so I wouldn't get spliced." He said, sort of telling the truth.
"Because you were drunk?" Lucius guessed, not at all happy. Draco nodded. "Is that all?" He asked. Draco nodded once more and Lucius narrowed his eyes. He pointed his wand to the boy and Draco braced himself. "Crucio." Draco fell to his knees in agonizing pain. All of his muscles contracted and he felt as though he was collapsing from the inside. All of his nerves were on fire, making his skin crawl and stealing away his breath. His throat muscles were tightening and a scream emitted from the spasming muscle. Before Draco knew it, he felt plunged into ice. He was shivering, holding his arms around himself tightly, trying to fend off the shadows cutting through his body. He opened his bright eyes and blinked the room into focus. His eyes trailed up the body clad in elegant robes and met his father's eyes. He tried to push himself up, but his arms seemed to be the consistency of jelly, unable to hold his weight, causing him to remain on the ground.
Lucius extended a leather-gloved hand in the same blood-red colour as the rest of the outfit. Draco accepted the hand, feeling humiliated, and was pulled into standing. He felt the eyes boring into his own, but could not meet them. He felt a sudden sharp sting on his cheek and realized that the leather had slapped him. He bit his tongue and forced himself to meet his father's eyes.
"I expect you to act like a Malfoy." He said lowly, the gloved hand lifting his son's chin to ensure eye contact between the pair of silver eyes. He left the room without another word. Draco felt suddenly weak and was still feeling the aftereffects of the Cruciatus chill. He fell back to the floor and sunk into his mind, trying to find shelter from the outside world. He didn't notice another presence in the room until large warm hands helped him stand. He felt the large fingers wipe his cheeks and realized he'd been crying. Looking into the face, he gave a short, thankful smile to his godfather.
--
Did you like that warm moment of Lucius helping his son up, only to go cold and slap him after? Foreshadowing perhaps?
Did you like it?
