A/N: Hey this may be weird or something, I'm not sure, but somebody mentioned having to load the page every day to see whether I had updated, and I feel terrible because my updating has been irregular at best. With classes as they have been I can never guarantee an update. So I offer thus: (if it's not weird of me to do so) would anyone like me to send them an email when I update, so that you don't have to keep checking in? This story may get pretty lengthy and I'd hate for you to be checking daily for the next month (because it will probably be another month at least until I finish this bad boy off, even with regular updates...) If not, if that's weird, just let me know. But for those who don't have accounts I think it may be helpful, and I don't mind. Just let me know. Anyway...

Thank you all for your reviews:-D I am very very happy.

On with the story!

"He's nothing like you, you fucking bastard!" Draco screamed, and tears poured down his cheeks. "He's not a deranged basket case! He's a good man. Don't you dare call him anything but!"

Avery used his free hand to rip open Harry's t-shirt. Harry attempted to bat his hands away but his body felt as though he were stuck in a vat of thick syrup. His movements were slow and lethargic. By the time his hand slapped the area he was aiming for, Avery's hand had long since moved.

Harry wasn't quite sure how Avery managed to tug his jeans off him. He didn't even realized that he had been disrobed until he was thrown to his hands and knees and his hand landed on his crumpled jeans. He felt Avery tugging at the waistband of his boxers, but his mind refused to wrap around the situation. He fought against the presence in his mind to gather the energy and power to resist, or at least to free Draco.

"Leave him alone!" Draco begged frantically, and thrashed against the magic binding him.

Harry didn't understand. He could feel Avery's presence like an intruder in his mind, a thick weight pressing against his mental shields. He realized that Avery had subconsciously reached out to his own magical signature, which was wrapped within Harry's memories, and was attempting to prowl Harry's mind.

"He just wants to fuck you, Draco! He's just like every other bastard who paid Drowry, but he's too cheap to pay so he'll simply wait until you come to him."

"You're wrong!"

"Am I? How do you know?"

"I know Harry, he's nothing like you!"

"He's just another fucking customer, you just don't know it yet!"

"No," Harry managed. His mind had caught up halfway to the conversation going on around him. Horror at the redhead's words enraged him. He had thought the same thing, so recently, but since his experience with the room's impressions, he understood the difference between himself and those others. Even the ones who had not intended to hurt Draco had shredded his pride and self-worth. Even in their version of taking pity on him and ensuring he enjoy their attention, they were destroying him. To have someone uninvited, unwanted, unloved, control him so completely-- forcing him to enjoy being raped-- had shattered him just as fully as the ones who hurt him. Because by forcing him to enjoy it they had made him an accomplice in his own defilement, his own destruction.

"He's trying to shut me up so you don't learn the truth, but he's just like me. Just another customer."

Draco shook his head continuously. "You're wrong," he insisted. "You're wrong, he's a good man."

Harry felt his fury rising. Hot and painful, it rose within him like a wave of acid. It burned where it touched; his fingertips tingled and his elbows shook. His mind was suddenly cemented on one idea: feed the fury. Feed it and let it go and let it consume you, so that in consuming you it chases away the pain, the humiliation, the memories. Only the fury can save Draco. Let it fill you up like a cup, and when it brims over, save your Draco. You'll only have one chance, you'll only get one dose, and it'll never come again. You can either apparate away, or you can break those binds on Draco.

Harry let Avery's lies ring in his brain ceaselessly. He let his eyes look at Draco, fighting against a power he could have no hope of breaking, desperate to save Harry from this tormenter they now shared, desperate to save his savior's purity.

"Leave him be!" Draco begged.

Avery cackled and tortured Draco with the threat of claiming Harry, pressing himself against Harry's opening and bumping his hips.

Harry felt a searing jolt of pain as Avery entered him with one violent thrust. He sucked a gasp of pain through his teeth. Draco's screams echoed through the room as he thrashed ever harder, furious with himself, furious with Avery. He had, once again, caused Harry pain, and this time it was the worst of all. Draco's tears redoubled and he dissolved in agony.

The sight of Draco's misery sent Harry's mental cup of fury spilling over.

He pictured that cup as one of acid, and clutched it tightly to himself as it spilled across him. He felt Avery beginning to move, but paid him no mind. He flung that cup of acid, that cup of fury and power and his will, across the room to Draco, bending that nearly physical substance into a blade that sliced through the magic binding Draco.

"Run, Draco!" he screamed as the magical ropes slithered away from his magic as though from a flame.

Draco fell in a heap to the ground.

Avery screamed in rage.

Harry collapsed, his magic spent.

He could do little more than watch as Draco gained his feet. Avery had begun to move away, but not fast enough. Fury fueled the blonde now, and desperation to prevent Harry from going through what he had made his reflexes lightening-quick. He did a half flip, half roll across the room to where Avery had thrown his wand, and as he came to his feet a pair of loose slacks came into existence over his form with no more effort or time spent than a blink. He cracked his wand like a whip, and the lash of power that flared toward Avery sent the redhead stumbling. Draco was halfway across the room before the redhead even had time to fall, and as Avery crumbled to his back, his head snapping back to connect with the floor beneath him, Draco was upon him.

His wand, though still clutched tightly within his fist, was forgotten as he lashed out physically against Avery. His clenched fists connected solidly and repeatedly against his tormentor's face, and still he growled and spit. Avery retaliated suddenly, sending the blond spilling head over heals, and Draco was forced to tuck himself into a roll to prevent an awkward landing, but sprang to his feet again within moments.

He lashed out, catching Avery's temple in a powerful roundhouse that staggered him back. Draco pressed forward, enraged, and twisted his body into a complex assault he had learned as a death eater. He sent Avery stumbling, confused. Draco had never struggled against him before, but now he fighting back with the ferocity of a caged tiger and the skill of a trained assassin.

Harry's eyes were scarcely able to follow the path the pair had taken, let alone the fury-charged attacks Draco was throwing. His vision blurred and he nearly lost consciousness. But Draco was not yet safe, and that fact alone kept him alert to the general world around him.

Harry felt a slow ease of his power, then. He felt a small tingle as someone tugged along it, and knew that his men had managed to find him. They would be here within seconds.

Avery had no chance against the furious blonde. He had never seen such ferocity and power contained within each and every strike. It took him quite some time to realize his mistake: Draco had not been spurred to defend himself, but the moment Harry had been hurt, Draco had been provoked beyond rational thought.

The team arrived, hovering around Harry. A few pair of hands helped him to stand while someone spelled some clothes onto his body. He grunted in thanks, but his eyes were glued to the blonde.

Harry had never seen such perfect form. The blonde performed each maneuver as though it were an art form, and though he was beyond fury he never let it slow or sully his strikes. His powerful legs lashed against the reporter as often as his fists, and he moved with the fluidity of water. His jaw was set, his eyes cold, and his control perfect. Though Avery was but a reporter he had obviously studied some form of martial arts, yet every action the redhead took against Draco was quelled effortlessly.

At long last, Draco struck a blow that knocked Avery to his back once more. Draco fell into a crouch, right leg bent beneath him, the left extended before him. His hands were held bent at the first knuckle, instead of fists, and his arms, the right bent and the left extended, were held at shoulder level to ensure speed. His breath came in short little gasps, and his every muscle seemed to quiver in anticipation of his next strike.

Harry took a breath he hadn't realized he'd been stalling and heard several others around him do the same. He knew his eyes were wide with shock, and suspected that his men, too, held the same echo of pleased surprise.

Draco's head turned ever so slightly to take in the sight of the team of men watching him, perfectly immobile. Embarrassment, but of a pleasant kind, warmed his cheeks as he saw the admiration in the eyes of his band of protectors. He knew just what they were thinking: the poor, broken little Malfoy has some fight in him after all. The shattered man they'd been watching over, coddling, protecting, could, if necessary, protect himself, and protect himself well.

He relaxed ever so slightly, his tense stature losing some of its fury as he let himself take comfort in their presence.

Harry and every man surrounding him jolted in shock when Avery sat up, his hands clenched in claws to rake out Draco's eyes. They began to half-lunge toward the blonde, even knowing they couldn't possibly make it in time to assist. Yet before they could finish that simple action, Draco had released his tense stature to do what it was positioned to do. The coiled right leg straightened like a snake to strike, sending him forward powerfully, and his extended left leg provided a fulcrum on which to pivot as his right foot snapped against the side of Avery's head. His momentum carried him over the falling man, and he twisted in midair to land with his left foot pressed atop Avery's throat, his body bent over his left leg to apply pressure, and his right arm raised, elbow pointing directly toward the ceiling, fingers curled into a fist over Avery's face.

Draco's entire attack happened in the time it took the others to take a single lunging step forward.

He raised his eyes to the gathered crew. "You're the aurors, come take him away before I have to kill his ass," he suggested, his voice strained.

The aurors snapped into action and instantly a dozen wands went into action to send ropes wrapping around Avery's hands and ankles. The resultant pile of rope made Draco's lips twitch into a half-smile as the aurors murmured their apology, until his eyes met Harry.

His amusement fled. The memory of seeing Avery raping his precious Harry raged through his mind, and he let out a gasp. "Harry," he whispered as he raised himself to his feet. Harry was frozen across the room, his stature tense and uncomfortable.

Draco made his way through the aurors, who were rushing to their prisoner, and strode toward Harry. "Are you alright?" Draco asked carefully as me moved across the room, his voice thick with agony as he noticed the flicker of pain in Harry's eyes.

A/N: Cruel, I know...

Oh and if you ARE interested in me sending you an email when I update, you can either "review" me the email or PM me. Or if a few of you say yes I'll just put my email up and you can email me your email... if that makes any sense lol. Thank you all for your support! It means the world!