A/N: Sorry for the delay. My computer is being mean to us all and wouldn't let me upload, I had to crash my friend's computer to upload, but I'll try to keep them coming!... Hope you enjoy. Thank you for your reviews, please continue to let me know how you feel about what's going on, please review as often as you are willing :D.
Harry stormed into the room the startled healers had led his men into, the door slamming open and closed of its own accord. "How dare you!" he bellowed immediately, and the room fell deathly silent.
"How dare you come into that room with some kind of holier-than-thou hatred pouring from your eyes! Do you have any idea what he had to go through in that fucking house! Did you even bother to find out? Did you even stop to consider why he was there! You blind fucking fools, the women were there because they were loyalists! Don't you fucking think that maybe he was there for the same reason? And even if your tiny fucking brains couldn't grasp that simple fucking concept, then how about this! Unless it is Voldemort himself lying in a fucking hospital bed, I NEVER want to see you glaring down the victim of such atrocities. EVER. I don't give a rat's ass what you presume Draco Malfoy did to you, he's a fucking victim in all of this, therefore he deserves our protection, not our hatred!"
"Harry!" a particularly foolish and bold man piped up. "We get it, the guy was ass-fucked. But, I mean, come on, gay guys get off on that type of shit all the time, and it's not like the women weren't in the same boat. You don't see any of them blubbering like fucking bitches."
Suddenly, it seemed, there was a ten-foot radius around one Mike Bolden, and a clear path between Mike and Harry.
Harry's rage choked him for several moments, and the longer he stood there, too blinded by fury to react, the wider the space around the two grew.
"Do… you… have any idea… how foolish you are?" Harry bit out, his voice strangled by his attempts to control his temper. None of his men had ever seen him so completely furious, and even Mike was fast realizing his folly.
Ron was standing just to Harry's left, but knew better than to try to hold Harry back. Dean, on Harry's right, was equally frozen. So it was no surprise when, as Harry's temper finally snapped, there was no obstruction when he suddenly lunged across the room and clenched his fingers around Mike's throat. Even then, his voice failed him for several moments as Mike struggled like a fish on a hook.
"I will not tolerate such blatant stupidity and disrespect! He is a fucking human being, you stupid bastard! I don't care how the other victims are reacting, that does not mean you should drag the ones who are more affected through the mud! Not only that," he snarled, and tightened his punishing grip, "but ask any one of the women. What they went through was nothing compared to Draco's experience. The women were protected from torture, Mike. Draco wasn't." He forced himself to loosen his grasp when it seemed as though Mike was loosing consciousness. He forced his hands to move away from such a dangerous location, instead clutching the shirtfront of the new Smurf. But what he hadn't anticipated was the undeniable urge to slam Mike into a wall. So he did, and held him there. "Do you have any idea what happens when the most twisted men in our society are let off their leash, guilt-free and legally in the clear, handed a victim and allowed to live out their darkest fantasies? The ones who were Voldemort supporters were reminded he was a traitor to The Dark Lord. The ones who were loyalists were told that he was a murdering Death Eater. Do you know what can happen to the human body when something magically enlarged is shoved into it?" Harry wasn't sure how he knew for sure that many of the men had enlarged themselves in order to rip Draco apart more completely, but the knowledge was suddenly buried within his mind, and he was utterly positive. Then he remembered the pair of guards who had been atop the bed when he'd stormed in, and understood. "Imagine those twisted fucking people able to make themselves thicker, longer, harder, faster, and imagine them shoving themselves in your ass. Imagine them deep-throating you with that," he challenged coldly. "Whips and chains and flames," Harry snarled, his face a twisted mask of fury. "Pain worst than Crucio, and you dare call him a blubbering bitch?"
When it seemed as though Harry had spent much of his fury, Ron and Dean dared to step forward. They murmured Harry's name, each touching one of Harry's arms gently.
"Put him down, mate," Dean requested softly. "You're alright, put him down. Don't let yourself do this, mate. Let him go."
"Harry, he's not worth it. Harry, let him go," Ron begged.
"Harry," Seamus piped up cheerfully. "He's not breathing!"
Harry released the folds of the robe instantly, as though burned, when he realized that he had lifted Mike a foot off the ground and was strangling him with his robes. Harry seemed to sag suddenly, and Mike, now an interesting shade of purple, shuffled fearfully away.
"Anyone who has a problem with what I've said," Harry rasped out, his fury having been reduced to a slow simmer by the realization that he had nearly killed Mike, "and Mike Bolden, can get the fuck out of my command, and never show his face in the Ministry again. Mike, you are no longer fit to serve the Ministry of Magic as an Auror. You are hereby released from your position."
"You can't!" Mike gasped, shuddering. "You have no grounds!"
"Yes, Mike, he does," Ron snarled, hoping to shut the fool up before he got them all slaughtered. "Now get out with your life and be happy!"
"No, he doesn't!" Mike insisted. "Just because he's got his wand stuck up his ass…"
Harry was surprisingly calm as he responded. "You are a fully licensed and trained Auror under the command of the Ministry of Magic. A vital aspect of your duties is the fair and impartial execution of the law. Yet had you been the one to find young Draco Malfoy, you would not have been lawful. And even aside from supposition, your disrespect and ill treatment of a victim taken as a charge under the Ministry of Magic by way of search and rescue is grounds enough to have you fired and your wand snapped. Your job is to protect the innocent, Michael Bolden. You have abused the power granted you in solemn service to the Ministry. Now… get… out… of… my… face."
Seamus and a youth by the name of Rodney scrambled forward, not willing to allow Mike the chance to disobey. They dragged the griping and coughing man out of the room bodily, and returned once they'd kicked his ass -- literally -- into the elevator.
Harry was seated with his head in his hands by the time they returned. Nobody else had moved, so they assumed they hadn't missed much.
"How many of you assumed that Draco was still a Death Eater?" he asked tiredly, and raised his eyes. When nobody was forthcoming, he stiffened.
"Tell me the truth," he snapped, and several hands raised reluctantly.
"I saw more than that glaring at him," he pointed out, and a few more hands raised. Satisfied, he motioned for them to lower their hands. "Thank you for your honesty. Now, just imagine you were in Mike's place and you get the idea. I don't need to reiterate my message, do I?"
"No, sir!" every voice piped up, even the ones who hadn't raised their hands. Harry smirked.
"I'm sorry I lost my temper, but hopefully you see why I was so incensed. Not only was Draco a victim, which in itself should have softened your hatred, but he was under my protection. I carried him out of that house in my arms, and you didn't trust me to remember his history. I'm no fool, gentlemen. I knew what he had been, and knew what he'd become. Draco tried to assist our efforts, and though he was unable to prove himself to us during the war, he proved himself the moment you lot carried his captors out of the room. He crawled to me on his hands and knees… hands and knees! And swore his fealty to me for saving…" he paused to allow the men to envision that. "For saving Padma Patil from his captors."
The men in the room lowered their eyes in shame.
"He had been tortured continuously for two months, and he could only think of Miss Patil. He had obeyed every twisted order those creatures threw at him in order to keep Padma safe. Do you see why I believe his intentions?"
"Yes, sir, we're sorry, sir," many voices chimed, and Neville stepped forward, dropping to one knee before Harry.
"Har… Sir, we apologize for our disgraceful behavior. We allowed our childhood grudges to cloud our minds at the expense of a man who didn't deserve our ire. We have behaved dishonorably toward Draco Malfoy, and wish to be allowed to prove our trust in you, sir."
Harry patted Neville on the shoulder and smiled. "Alright, Neville, I get the idea, you don't have to bow."
Neville blushed and stood quickly.
"I'm truly sorry," Harry groaned when he realized how much he had terrified his men. "I don't believe I've ever lost my temper like that. Please, guys, relax. I'm alright now. We're all on the same page, we all understand one another."
"Sir, yes, sir," they all chorused, snapping Harry an overly dramatic salute. Harry threw his hands up in surrender and laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm a terrible tyrant," he drawled, eliciting a chuckle of relief from the men.
Draco lay on the lump of coal the hospital laughingly dubbed a bed long after Harry had left, valiantly trying to control his irrational fears. Harry had promised to come back, Draco reminded himself repeatedly. He wouldn't go back on his word. He'll return, and you'll feel like a moron for having doubted him. In no time at all he'll come back to visit and you'll be fine.
He replayed his mental pep talk through his mind a dozen times. He heard the noises of the hospital, soothing, normal sounds, and focused on what he could hear. Everything narrowed down to the soft beeping, whirring, and whooshing coming from the world around him.
Until suddenly a voice made up of pure flame jolted through the entire floor. Harry's fury lashed at the walls and Draco trembled at its intensity. He knew that Harry's voice wasn't actually carrying so far, but somehow his magic had reached out to seek out Harry, and had gained access to his voice.
"…holier-than-thou hatred pouring from your eyes!" Harry screeched, and Draco allowed his mind to listen in as Harry berated his men for their foolishness. The episode comforted Draco; somehow, knowing that Harry was prepared to face down all of his men to defend him, Draco could rest easy.
He was only halfway listening to Harry's emphatic chastisement, enjoying the rises and falls of Harry's velvet voice, when a hauntingly familiar voice interrupted.
"Harry," that voice snapped, and Draco's fear returned tenfold with that single word. "We get it, the guy was ass-fucked. But, I mean, come on…"
Draco was trembling long before the cruel words were finished, and hardly registered the depth of their meaning. His mind had spiraled into the past, and fear held him immobile and silent as the remainder of the brawl faded from his mind. No longer able to retain the connection to Harry through his paralyzing fear, the argument was utterly lost to him.
He lay, frozen, for the duration of the castigation, and only jolted back to reality when his door opened. Instantly elated, he sat up, expecting Harry's frustrated frown to turn into a hesitant smile as he caught sight of Draco.
But was met with the face of his agony.
The tall, slender gentleman stepped into the room with an air of one returning from a vacation. He let his cold gaze roam Draco's pale form and smiled slowly, as though he had all the time in the world to move each muscle into the proper position.
Draco struggled to find his voice, longing to yell out, longing to lash out, longing to breathe. His entire body had turned to stone in moments, and his terror overrode the sense of self Harry had cuddled back into him. He sucked in a ragged gasp, but then found he was unable to release it. His lungs burned, his mind reeled, his body shook.
"No," he was finally able to breathe, a short, jerky sound. The single syllable seemed to take the effort of toppling a bridge, and his body shook harder.
The newcomer slid his tongue between his lips, slowly and carefully moistening those thin lines. His smile was debonair, and his hands moved to straighten his robes with the grace of the wind itself. Draco helplessly watched each movement the dark man made, his eyes taking in the unusually deep color to the other's cheeks, noticing that his breathing was slightly ragged, noticing that his body was a tightly controlled coil of fury.
"Draco!" the dark man cooed, his voice silky yet thick. His falsely cheerful mouth twisted as he repeated the phrase he'd said to Draco countless times before, and with a sadistic twisting of meaning nearly two months ago. "How nice to see you again. I'll have the usual, I think."