A/N: Yeah, Nuwanda here. Once again, this chapter is entirely my doing, seeing as it is once again Draco angst and that's my domain. I had fun writing this one, b/c I got to do a little bit of Harry torture as well. ;D *siiiiiiiiiiigh* The only problem is that after this, I owe Quillow soooo much Harry angst. She's going to go nuts writing it, lol.
Disclaimer: We are poor. Poor as hobos. My job pays nearly nothing and Quillow is trying to find a job. Therefore, since we have crappy jobs and are so poor, you should understand that we own nothing. Because if we did, we'd both be filthy rich. Thank you for rubbing it in.
Author's note to follow.
~*~
Draco stared at Harry's broken body. 'What can I do to save him?' he thought wildly. Realization hit him hard. 'Nothing,' he realized. 'There is nothing I can do that will have any result other than that I am killed with him. That's all I can do: die with him to make up for my stupidity.' It was not an option that pleased Draco very much.
"I assume you realize what is going to happen here, Draco," Voldemort said, the smile apparent in his voice before Draco saw it on his face. "I finally have Harry Potter within my power. I can do with him what I like."
"Yes," Draco agreed. "You can. So where do I come in?"
Voldemort seemed disappointed that Draco didn't seem to share his love of torturing Potter. "Don't you hate him, Draco? Don't you want to hurt Potter…to see him suffer?"
Draco felt his throat go dry. "What must I do?" he asked hoarsely.
Voldemort smiled. "That's better. You are going to have a go at breaking Potter."
"You want me to use the Unforgivable Curses?!"
"No no no, not at all," Voldemort said, irritated. "You will break him physically, with no use of anything other than your own brute strength." He smiled. "No wands, no weapons, nothing."
Draco was stunned and appalled. He gave Harry a once-over, looking Harry over from head to toe. While the two boys were normally matched quite well, Harry was in no state to fight anyone. It would be an easy battle, and Harry would go down quickly.
"It should not take very long," Voldemort said, filling in the awkward silence. Draco said nothing, just looked at the Dark Lord, face blank. "Well? You will do it?" The question was not really a question at all, more of a statement. Draco very much wanted at that moment to perform all three of the Unforgivable Curses at once…on Voldemort. 'Or maybe on myself,' he thought, 'anything to get me out of this situation!' He didn't reply aloud, merely nodded his head. Voldemort smiled. "I am glad. I was worried that your father was going to be forced to beat you instead of you beating Potter." The Dark Lord seated himself in an intricate high-backed chair that had been placed in the room for this very occasion. The Death Eaters all seated themselves in other chairs, Lucius giving Draco a very meaningful stare: 'don't mess up.' That was what the stare said.
Taking a deep breath, Draco stepped towards Harry. Immediately, fire seemed to spring up from the floor, and it formed a circle of flames around the two boys. Harry attempted to focus his eyes on Draco. When he achieved this feat, his eyes narrowed in anger as he realized what was obviously about to happen. Draco stepped in very close to Harry, who attempted to back away and nearly lost his balance. Reaching out quickly, Draco caught Harry and placed one hand on either side of Harry's face.
"Harry," he whispered, "I am so sorry." Before Harry could react, Draco punched the brunette in the face, knocking Harry off balance again. Draco gasped aloud, freezing in place. He had completely forgotten about his hands. 'So this is what Voldemort meant about pain…' The instant he had hit Harry, intense pain had flooded through his hands. He looked down and saw that they had started bleeding again. Before he could look up, Draco felt something connect hard with his gut and he doubled over in pain. Looking up, he saw Harry coming towards him again, reaching for another punch. He felt momentarily impressed with Harry for continuing to fight even though he was in no fit state to do so. Draco ducked under Harry's arm and kicked out, knocking Harry's legs out from under him. 'The less I have to actually hit him, the better.' Harry scrambled to his feet, crawling after Draco on his hands and knees. Just before he reached Draco, Harry pushed hard off his feet and hurled himself at Draco, diving on top of the blond boy and knocking Draco to the floor. Harry crawled on top of Draco and hit him again. Draco grabbed one of Harry's hands and used the other boy's distraction to punch Harry in the gut. As Harry doubled over in pain, Draco shoved Harry off of him. Harry slid a few feet away on his side, for the moment too disoriented to do anything else. Draco winced; his hands were aching something terrible. Suddenly, he had an idea. He slid on his knees over to where Harry was and straddled Harry's chest, positioning his body in such a way that he slightly blocked he and Harry from the Death Eaters' view. Instead of punching Harry, Draco pounded his fist harshly into the floor, biting down on his lip to keep from crying out at the horrific throbbing that enveloped his entire hand. He punched the floor so many times he lost count. He punched the floor as hard as he could, punching over and over, letting out all the anger and hatred he felt for his father and Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He pounded his fists into the hard marble floor until he thought he would pass out from the pain. Breathing heavily, Draco grabbed Harry's hair and held tight so that it looked as if he were really wrenching Harry's head back. He leaned forwards, his mouth close to Harry's ear. "Pretend to be unconscious and do not let on for an instant that I didn't actually hit you." He released Harry's hair, dropping the practically unconscious boy's head back to the floor. Draco placed one hand on either side of Harry and pushed himself up, ignoring the pain. Standing, he turned and faced the crowd of watching Death Eaters. Voldemort had a crazed smile on his face. Draco felt chills down his back as he observed for himself just how much pleasure the Dark Lord got out of watching Harry being tortured. The ring of flames seemed to diminish and then died completely. Draco stepped forward to address Voldemort.
"My Lord, he is unconscious," Draco stated, bowing slightly. "It would be pointless to continue…though I shall if it is what your Lordship wishes." 'Like hell I will!' he thought rebelliously.
Voldemort shook his head, rising from his chair. "No no, that is enough. You did very well, Draco…very well indeed."
Draco bowed again and straightened up to look Voldemort in the eye. The Dark Lord was wearing a smile just for him, a smile that held promises of what the future would bring if Draco continued to please him in this way. Draco felt ill.
"I see the fight caused you some pain as well, Draco," Voldemort observed, indicating Draco's bleeding hands. Draco looked down and was instantly shocked. The bandages were no longer discernable. Both of his hands were bright red, dripping with blood from the reopened cuts. He found that his fingers would not unclench. He attempted to force them open and received no results other than even more terrible waves of pain. 'Broken?' he wondered. It wouldn't be surprising. 'Pounding ones hands into a marble floor will do that, I guess,' he thought. But he wasn't sorry. Looking at the broken form of Harry Potter on the floor, he felt no wave of remorse for what he had done. Even if every finger was broken, it would be worth it. He had somewhat settled his score. 'Now I only have to get Potter out of here…how in the hell am I going to do that?!' Draco tasted blood. Flicking his tongue to the corner of his mouth, he tasted even more. He realized that when he had bit his lip to keep from crying out while he was pretending to punch Harry, he had bit down so hard that he had split his lip.
Draco's attention was called back as Voldemort snapped his fingers. "Nott, Goyle," he said. "Take Mr. Potter back to his cozy dungeon cell." Laughing, the two men complied. Draco watched them harshly drag Harry off, the boy's legs dangling as the men dragged him out of the room by his arms.
"You may take your leave, Draco," Voldemort said. Draco looked up at him. Voldemort smiled. "You have pleased me immensely, Draco. I am known to give great rewards to those who please me."
Draco tried very hard to smile but found himself completely unable to do so. He settled for a nod. Voldemort didn't seem to care. "Thank you, my Lord." Turning on his heel, Draco left the room as quickly as he could. Not quick enough, however. Just shy of the door, Lucius caught Draco by the shoulder. Slowly, Draco turned to face his father. Lucius smiled down at his son.
"You did well, boy." Lucius nodded his head, the smile widening every minute. "I'm proud of you."
Draco barely managed to nod before pulling away from his father and exiting the room as quickly as he could. He found his way to the nearest bathroom and collapsing to his knees, threw up.
~*~
Draco propped himself up against the toilet, shuddering. He brushed hair out of his eyes, bloodied hand rubbing against sweaty skin. He was a bloody, sweaty, sickened mess. He had felt sick throughout the entire ordeal, but his father stating that he was proud of him…Draco felt as if he were going to be sick again, just thinking about it. 'What have I become that he is proud of me? What horrific thing have I become?' Draco buried his face in his hands and felt blood smearing across his face. He pulled his hands away and stared at them. He attempted to undo the bandages and couldn't; his hands were still clenched into fists. Draco pondered the dilemma for a moment. Then, he wedged his right thumb into the middle of his left fist, forcing the fingers to come unstuck. He bit his lip again at the intense pain, then cried out as he bit down on the damaged lip. He finally managed to unclench his left hand and then painfully unclenched his right hand with the now free left hand. Yup, they were definitely broken…all ten fingers utterly useless. 'And painful.' Slowly, Draco undid the bandages and flushed them down the toilet. He was bleeding everywhere. Uncaring, he wiped his hands down his robes; the blood was already spattered on his torn white shirt. 'Damn…this was my favorite shirt, too.' Draco suddenly felt tears in his eyes, burning hot pinpricks. The emotions he had been holding in all night finally found their way out as the tears rolled down his cheeks, unchecked. It wasn't the shirt that he was really upset about; Draco knew this. It was just the final straw. Everything he had been feeling that night had been held in. He had handled everything maturely, taken it all with a grain of salt. The sight of his ruined shirt had finally brought all of that anger and sadness spilling out of him. Then, the impossible happened: Draco found a laugh escaping his lips. He laughed loudly and freely at the insane ludicrousness of it all. 'With everything that happened tonight I get upset that I ruined my shirt?' He was crying and laughing at the same time. Anyone who saw him would believe him to be completely insane. 'Maybe I am,' he thought, 'maybe I am.'
~tbc~
Nuwanda: There. Happy now? Two chapters in one day. Don't even whine now that you need more. Actually, do, we love people who say they love our fic. Okay, I reeeeaaally need Quillow to help me w/ these notes, b/c I'm demented and can't do it by myself. *siiiiiiiiigh* Oh well. *bows* Till next time!
Dedication: Meg-ling. My big sister Meg. Because she loves our fic (or so she claims) and because she's writing wa na na fanfic of her own now. WOOT for Meg-ling! ;D