A/N: I want to thank you Rotschopf and Dystopic for being the most wonderful betas in the world. Love you girls.
A/N II: Important! I have changed the plot so that Sirius Black is dead to make this story fit the canons better. I have changed his and Harry's correspondence to Harry/Remus correspondence.
27. Burning
"Wonder where Draco is," said Vincent Crabbe, pulling a large green T-shirt over his head, gesturing towards the empty four-poster next to his own bed.
"Hmm, I think he's already up, eating breakfast." Goyle shrugged, combing his short hair in front of the mirror and looking dumber than ever.
"Or he's with Potter," Theodore Nott smirked, knotting his tie. "Bet he sneaked into the wonderboy's dorm in the middle of the night."
All three boys laughed cheerfully, put their shoes on and took off towards the Great Hall's breakfast tables.
As soon as the door was closed behind them, a shower of tiny, sharp glass flakes landed on the stony dormitory floor, gliding across the grey surface like pieces of ice. The only small window of the room, the one which usually let Draco's owls in, had once against burst broken. But the grey eagle that crawled inside, feathers covered in blood, was neither Malum nor Nocens, this time.
Tiredly, the eagle flew into the dungeon room, wanting to get away from the piercing stare of the morning sun. Slowly and in pain, it made its way towards Draco Malfoy's bed, crippled and half unconscious. When its claws came in touch with the black silk of the sheets, it slumped down and allowed its feathers to transform into messy silver hair and pale, bruised milky skin. Soon, there was a sixteen-year-old beautiful boy lying on the bed. Nearly naked, and nearly dead.
Draco Malfoy shivered with cold. His clothes were all tattered; actually, he wasn't wearing anything but a pair of ragged trousers. His hair was a muddy, rubicund chaos, a mixture of cruor and ashes. His red-rimmed eyes and broken lipped accentuated his face which was grimed with filth and even more blood, just like his chest, stomach and the rest of the lithe body. Nasty bruises were silently forming on his neck, wrists and legs, and he had several small but deep cuts all over his upper arms, where the black dragon wyrmling had held him in place.
But none of these injuries hurt the young man as much as the one that was burned on his left inner arm. There, in the form of a vicious skull with a snake crawling out of its mouth that was still lingering in black, was the Dark Mark of Lord Voldemort.
"Draco… No! NO! Please don't… Please… It hurts so much, Draco… Please, let me live…"
Draco jerked violently, hearing the teary, desperate words of his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, ringing in his ears yet again . He looked down at himself and found that his right hand was clutching his new, morbid tattoo tightly, as if wanting to shut up its snake-tongued mouth. He ventured a shuddering stare at the rest of himself. Blood. Dried blood. Fresh blood. Blood was e verywhere. And Draco knew… Not all of it was even his own.
"Muwhahahahaha…Just like your father, you will follow me, follow my every command…You will fight for me… You will kill for me… You will DIE for me… Muwahahahaha… Crucio!"
Draco winced and bit his lower lip hard. It started to bleed again. His crystallised eyes filled with tears, and this time, he allowed them.
"I'm so sorry, my love…" he sobbed, curling into a tight, shaking ball.
**
Some floors above, in the noisy Great Hall, Harry Potter was having his breakfast with his re-aquainted best friends, Ron and Hermione. True, there was more strained quietude than joyous chatter, but at least, all of them were trying their best to restore their shaken comradeship. It was perhaps the hardest for Ron, since he needed to swallow his bitterness towards Hermione and Ginny. Plus he needed to accept that Harry's boyfriend was none other than Draco the Ferret Malfoy. Therefore, he mainly kept nodding and smiling and not speaking because he didn't want to say anything offensive by accident.
For Hermione, it was possibly the easiest. She was naturally a reasonable young woman and saw the happenings in a bigger picture than the two boys. She was a little sad because she'd let Ron down so harshly, but her happiness with Ginny got the better of the miserable feelings she might otherwise have been feeling for her ex-boyfriend. And when it came to Harry, Hermione reminded herself that she did not know her friend's boyfriend, that blond Slytherin brat, enough to make any final judgements about their relationship. She trusted Harry's perception, so she decided to shrug the matter off of her shoulders, deciding to observe the situation from a distance.
For Harry, the whole reunion was rather confusing. He was happy that he was surrounded by his friends again, happy that he had not lost them with his childish, secretive behaviour. On the other hand, he was a bit uncomfortable. He felt that, even though they all wished the things return to normal, there would always be this deep, black bottomless pit spreading between each of them. The virginal, blue-eyed faith was gone -none of them trusted each other anymore. And what made Harry even more miserable was that he knew that he had started it all. If only he would not have been so distant… If only he wouldn't have allowed Draco's charms to mesmerize him so completely…
"Where is Malfoy, by the way?" asked Hermione, glancing at the Slytherin table and then at Harry.
Harry shook his head, frowning. "I don't know, Hermione."
"The breakfast's nearly over," Ron pointed out, but didn't say anything further because the next thing in his mind would've been along the lines of 'but I really wouldn't mind if he died of hunger'.
"He's probably decided to skip," Harry sulked.
"Why so displeased about it, Harry?" Hermione asked. "This certainly isn't the first time."
"He should eat," Harry said, starting to pile some ham sandwiches onto a large napkin.
Ginny, who was sitting next to Hermione, started to giggle, and Harry gave her a questioning glance.
"Harry's being all motherly towards Malfoy," the redhead girl laughed. "How sweet is that."
"I'm not being motherly!" Harry huffed, his cheeks flushing a little.
"Yes, you are," Hermione grinned.
"Am not!" Harry retorted, closing the napkin around the sandwiches.
"What's that, then?" Ron glared at the package. "A nosebag for the Thestral foals we're studying today at Care of Magical Creatures?"
Harry gave him a look, grabbed his parcel and stood up. "No, for your information, I thought of taking it to Hedwig and Nocens. We didn't get morning post, so I guess they're hungry, not having stolen anything from me and Draco's plates."
"Aw, he's feeding Malfoy's eagle owl already," Ginny tittered, and Hermione joined her laughter. Harry couldn't help but shake his head in amusement, before he took off.
**
The minutes slithered by. Agonizingly slow, and yet scarily fast. Draco was huddled under his blanket, wanting to shield his ill-treated body from the eyes of the world. He was repeatedly scratching his Dark Mark, tears flowing down his cheeks. It hurt so much.
He hurt so much.
Curling more tightly around himself, he pressed his chin down, between his collar bones, and took a shaking breath. He let the air flow out of his lungs raggedly, and the number of the wet streaks on his cheeks multiplied. He felt like he was dying. Not physically, but very much mentally. It was all so hard to bear.
He had not allowed himself to fall apart before this. Not when being still there. He had not allowed himself to crumble. He had done everything he was told to do, bravely keeping his chin up when being commanded by him. Oh, yes… He had been an obedient little puppet of Lord Voldemort. And for that, he had suffered. And would suffer until the end of his days.
Physical pain, not like any other, had been his entire world that night. But still, there had been an ironical smile lingering on his lips… He had almost enjoyed every time a new cruciatus had hit him because he had known that the more he had received, the sooner it would all be over. So, with a playful little torture like this, his powers had been slowly sucked out of him. But he had endured it all… for a reason purely unselfish. Namely, at the time his muscles had tensed and twisted in immeasurable pain, he had sacrificed all his remaining energy in the attempt to hide his feelings, blocking his memories, just to protect the only person he had ever considered worthy of his effort. With the little Occlumency skills he had learned from Snape during the five and half school years, he did his very best to conceal his heart. He would have rather died than let go of the one feeling he truly believed in.
But, even if these draining measures had helped to protect Harry, they hadn't been enough to protect his own self. No… Under the merciless, blood-shot eyes of the seventy-years-old Tom Marvolo Riddle, he had understood a complete new level of inner pain. He had ached deeply and madly from within, his heart bleeding along with his superficial wounds. His resolve had been steadily weakening after every cold and persuasive touch; his mind had been reeling in front of the sight that had been laid beneath his feet… There, under the vast skies of, a whole new generation of monsters was ready to start the biggest and most merciless war in the history of the magical world. Dementors, goblins, orcs, banshee women, vampires, trolls, giants, basilisk nestlings with their eyes temporarily tied… even four or five dragons had been there, competing for the mastership of the Cuillin hills with the Dark Lord.
Feeling beside him, but acting like he was completely in his senses, Draco had deferentially submitted to every sinister whim of Lord Voldemort… he had submitted to the requirements of the people that called themselves his new family… The Death Eaters had surrounded him, encouraged him, brainwashed him… and as a result, for the first time in his life, young Draco Malfoy had killed. And he had not killed just somebody….
The dark cloud of guilt and agony thickened above his pathetic form, and the acidic rain poured down on him, making Draco's whole soul twist and turn in pain. He forgot he was now safely lying in his own bed instead of kneeling down on the rocky, blackened ground of the -- Draco whimpered… The images were still very fresh in his mind. The beautiful but oh-so-dismal Cuillin Ridge, bathing under the cold moonlight and magical flames, was something one could not forget that easily.
Diamond shaped Coruisk… Draco had seen it from the mountainside above. It had been glimmering in a deep sapphire blue. It had been so very bright blue despite the fact that the sky had been painted with bright green and yellow by the vapour that rose from the nostrils of the two enormous Green Dragons. Oh, yes… the lake's shade had been a untainted sapphire blue though the mists that hovered above its surface had been burning red, set into flames by a couple of young adult Red Dragons.
Sapphire blue… that had been the lake's colour… Only because Lord Voldemort had wanted it to be so. The Dark Lord had declared himself omnipotent… He was the one to move the mountains… and he was the one to set the lake's colour diamond blue if he wanted to. A mixture of sapphire, azure and indigo it would always be, even if the lake would be someday be filled with plain muddy blood instead of water.
Draco had always hated blue.
And now he just realised that.
**
Harry trotted down the stairs from the Owelry. He had been chatting away with Hedwig and Nocens for the past ten minutes, the drowsy Rune in his pocket occasionally cutting in, without even thinking it might not be a completely sane way to spend his morning. But now that he was back in the human world again and his thoughts inevitably turning at his lover, Draco Malfoy, he cursed himself for not choosing to visit the dungeons instead of the enormous bird lair. Why had Draco skipped breakfast? Harry shook his head and snorted at himself – he was starting to act like a mother hen. It really didn't have to mean anything serious if the Slytherin boy decided to eat the day's first meal later than the others. Besides, Harry did not know for sure if Malfoy indeed had sneaked out to get a cup of coffee from the breakfast table while he had been feeding their owls.
Harry pushed the heavy doors of the castle ajar and slipped outside. The first class of the day would be Care of Magical Creatures, and, as Ron already had mentioned in the morning, they would be studying the newly born Thestral foals Hagrid had taken under his care. Harry knew that the lesson would not be that hard for him, since he was one of the very few students who cou ld actually see them, unlike Ron and Hermione. Yes… he was always so special, so exceptional. How annoying. He had seen people
die just in front of his eyes, and oh! What a dandy gift he had gotten in return! He was able to see winged, ugly horses! A horrible sting of pain shot through Harry's whole body. Memories he'd been blocking were in danger to come out in the daylight again… Memories of Sirius…
Harry decided to pair up with Neville if he could. After all, the Longbottom boy was able to see the animals now, too.
"Hey, Harry, there you are!" Hermione greeted Harry as he joined her and Ron at Hagrid's hut. "We were just wondering what was taking you so long. The class starts in a few minutes."
"Yeah," Ron chorused, and then twisted his mouth into a grin. "I bet the birds had some really juicy gossip to tell, since you spent so much time with them."
Harry smiled at his friends, slightly out of breath. "It's more like they were my therapists and I did all the talking. You know, they're pretty reliable, not being able to spill out my secrets to anybody who's eager to talk, like, say, Lavender Brown."
"Talking about the devil," Hermione huffed, and glanced over her shoulder where she knew the blonde girl was standing at some distance. "Why are you still so bitchy towards her? She didn't do anything wrong. She just… She's a normal teenager girl, Harry. And any normal teenager girl would fall in love with you."
"Yeah, I guess you're right, Mione." Harry sighed, looking down at the ground, being slightly embarrassed. "I've been a real jerk. But it's just that… well… We really didn't fit together that well, and I… I can't help the fact that I don't respect her one little bit."
"She was pretty deflated when she heart about you and Malfoy yesterday." Hermione bit her lip. "I guess that she'd been trying to get Malfoy interested in her… to get back at you."
Ron looked dismayed, "Are all women that cunning and sly? Bloody hell, I am almost glad that you are with Ginny now, instead of me. Merlin knows where I'd have ended with you."
"What? You think I am cunning and… and sly? You think those things about me?" Hermione snapped, clearly a little bit tense for some reason. "And yet you think Blaise Zabini of all people is completely free of these faults? Ha! I bet you think she's even lovely and funny!"
"What are you talking about?" Ron glared. "Have you gone mad?"
"Don't start with me, Ronald Weasley. I saw how you were looking at her at breakfast!"
"She is really a nice girl. Why couldn't I look at her at breakfast?"
"Because she is not a nice girl and she's a Slytherin!"
"And this bothers you because…?" Ron looked sarcastic.
"You deserve someone better!" Hermione half screamed.
"Oh, yeah, someone like you, is that it?" Ron sneered.
"That's it! All I am trying to do is being nice to you, but no… You just can't stop insulting me, can you?"
"What the fuck is your problem, Hermione?" Ron's eyes flared. "You're the one who started this whole argument!"
"Well, you shouldn't have lowered yourself at the same level with the Slytherins! Or have you forgotten how you punched Dean just because he was being loyal to Harry?"
"Now, what the hell does that have to do with anything?" Ron spat. "And have you possibly forgotten, Miss Hermione, that Harry here is dating a Malfoy! How could it possibly be so horrible if I then took interest in a Zabini?"
"So you admit it! I knew it! You have a crush on Blaise!" Hermione shrieked.
"I don't have a crush on her -yet! But I might as well create one, just to give your selfish prim nose a good little rap!"
"SHUT UP!" yelled Harry, who had been looking at them both in turn, following the flowing insults with a growing annoyance. Both Ron and Hermione fell silent, panting slightly with agitation. Harry groaned and massaged the ridge of his nose. "Okay. Clearly, we all need to talk. Tonight, after classes."
"But you have your detention with Filch today," Hermione said with a weak, pathetic voice, looking embarrassed and miserable.
"Fuck the detention. There are more important things now at stake. So, the Room of Requirement, at eight o'clock sharp. No questions or protests."
"But you cannot just skip your detention," Hermione pointed out.
"Well, I'll arrange it somehow." Harry spread his arms exasperatedly.
Hermione gave Harry a funny look, the kind of look she'd given the raven-hair already so many times during the past few weeks, and nodded. Then, she turned away and joined the other Gryffindor girls as the lesson was about to begin.
Ron strolled closer to Harry, sneering at Hermione's back, and muttered with silent tones. "Hey… Are we still going to tell her about The Plan tonight?"
"Yes, probably," Harry answered, looking sick and tired. "Blaise wants everything ready by Thursday evening."
**
Draco found breathing a very hard job to do. He had scratched his Dark Mark so hard it was already bleeding. But the black skull was still there, unfazed, un-marred… Blood dribbled down from its eyes and all the other parts that had not been burned as a part of the tattoo -but those parts of the skin that were marked with the skull's grimy colours were unharmed. They were untouchable. Draco's nails had gone blunt and broken from all the scraping, and yet he hadn't been able to remove the mark,
or even blemish its ugly face.
Voices started to fill the young Slytherin's head again… Voices of death, and anger… Voices of dark power. Draco trembled, falling yet again that morning into his painful memories.
"A certain student of your house, Graham Pritchard, has told me some very interesting things about your relationship with Mr. Potter, my dear Draco. He has told me…That you two are…" Voldemort laughed, and then drawled out the last word amusedly. "…lovers."
Concentrating hard to cover his true thoughts and feelings about and towards Harry, probably looking very pale, Draco had struggled with his answer. "Oh…that. Um… Well… Yes, I suppose he's right."
Voldemort had looked dangerous. "Indeed."
"Sir… I never quit a job until it's done," Draco had managed to say, under the glare of the red, slicing eyes, kneeling in front of the Shadow Lord. "And I made it my goal to be able to bring Potter to you. Curiously, I found that he harboured these feelings towards me… so… I took advantage of the situation. You shall see the whole extent of my success next Saturday, Sir, if you will honour the Malfoy house with your presence that night."
Voldemort had seemed to be pondering Draco's words very carefully. He had raised his hand and touched Draco's cheek, trailing his long, cold fingers along the pale jawline. Draco had shivered and concentrated again on blocking those memories in his mind that could have exposed the true nature of his feelings towards Potter.
"Clever boy… and unselfish…" the Dark Lord had finally muttered. " I am quite pleased with you. There is nothing I respect more than self sacrifice for the sake of our cause. You really are loyal to me."
"Thank you, My Lord." Draco had concealed a sigh of relief.
"I will visit the Manor next Saturday. You better not let me down…"
"I won't, My Lord." Draco swallowed, however thinking at the same time, 'Indeed, not I, but Potter will'.
"Good…Now stand, young Malfoy…and extend your arm."
Draco had scrambled up to his feet and hesitated.
"Your left arm," Voldemort had reminded him.
Draco did not have the courage in him to resist. "Yes, My Lord."
**
While passing the corridors towards Professor Binns' classroom for History of Magic, Harry met a group of Slytherin sixth year girls who were making their way up the stairs towards the Astromomy tower. Blaise Zabini was in the lead, and when she saw Harry, her pale green eyes widened with delight.
"Hey, Potter." She grinned.
"Hey, Zabs." Harry stopped in his tracks to exchange a few words with her. "Listen… Have you seen Draco this morning? Did he come to class?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Blaise frowned. "He didn't show up in History of Magic, and what I heard from Theodore, Draco wasn't in their dorm room in the morning. However, the boys suggested he had sneaked up into the Gryffindor tower after midnight, to be with you."
"No, he wasn't with me." Harry looked suspicious. "And… You're sure he isn't in the Slytherin common room, studying or doing something less constructive?"
"None of the Slytherins have seen him the whole day, as far as I know." Blaise looked worried.
"Listen… If Draco doesn't show up in Astronomy either, meet me in the Entrance Hall before lunch. Let's go and find him together."
"Sure." Blaise sighed. "See you there, then."
Harry parted from her and joined his friends again. The Gryffindors were just entering the ghost professor's classroom, each of them looking ready to fall asleep again -except for Hermione, of course. Harry chose his seat next to Neville, watching with dull sorrow how Ron sat next to Seamus, and Herimone far away from him, next to Dean. So, the two really had separated.
The class was just like usual. Nothing eloquent happened during the long minutes. Harry found himself deadly bored, at first, but then, gradually, his concern about Draco started to fill his mind. Where was he? Why hadn't anybody seen him? Why hadn't he been in the dorm room in the morning? Questions followed one another, and finally Harry was convinced that something real ly alarming had happened.
"Harry, why are you breaking your quill?" Neville asked, his voice thick with on-and-off sleep.
Harry looked down at his hands and saw his favourite quill, the one made of Nocens' tail feather, completely ruined by his nervous fingers.
**
Draco was now sitting on his bed, cross-legged and hunching. He shivered a little, the cool dungeon air caressing the bare skin on his chest and back. Draco kept his eyes closed; he did not want to see himself. But he knew that he had to stand up. He had to collect himself, had to go to shower, had to heal all the visible bruises and wounds… Had to lift his chin up again and step into the outside world, aloof and elegant, unaffected by such little mishaps like the previous night's Dark Mark ceremony.
Draco pushed himself into a standing position and tried to stretch his hands, only to find them so badly injured that they only burned with pain and refused to move properly.
"Eeek!" a shrill scream echoed in the dormitory. "Gracious Merlin! What has happened to you, darling? Oh! Oh my!"
Draco clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth. Then he shot an agonized glare towards the looking glass on the wall. "Riddle happened to me."
"What, you don't know who did this to you?" Morgan, Draco's newly appointed mirror therapist, asked in disbelief.
Draco scowled. "I said Tom Marvolo Riddle did this to me. And a few other Death Eaters… I think."
A shocked gasp escaped the silvery square, and it started to wail quietly.
"What?" Draco snapped. "Something wrong with my new looks? I think this is rather up-to-the-minute, to be painted with blood…"
A weak voice then started to bemoan Draco's state, "…all that blood… those cuts… your beautiful body, so badly ruined… I think I'm going to faint…"
"You can't faint, you stupid bint, you're a mirror," Draco pointed out.
"How… how could someone do this?"
"Hmm, let's see," Draco brought his index to his lower, bruised lip, as if thinking really hard. "First, I would say it was the baby Black who tore my shoulders and upper back. Then, a few nicely targeted crucios bruised my arms and legs. A couple of good kicks on my stomach for being reluctant to killing my own cousin made my abs black and blue. And we should not forget about my aunt Bella's leather whip; she's a real dominatrix, she is. Ripped my clothes off with that sharp little black lash of hers, she did. Oh, and of course, the most important thing --" Draco showed his left forearm to the mirror, "The Dark Mark in itself hurts a great deal, even if it's so small. After all, it's about binding one's soul to darkness."
The mirror wept and hiccupped. "My poor baby boy… sniff… My lovely Dragon…"
Draco rolled exhaustedly his eyes. "Come on, Morgan." He smoothed the silvery mirror glass, smiling grimly with his broken lips. "It's not that bad. Really."
But the reflection that showed from the mirror indisputably made Draco question his own comforting words.
**
"So, did he come to class?" was the first thing Harry asked Blaise when the girl emerged in the Entrance Hall.
"No." Blaise looked very worried, then sneered. "Otherwise I wouldn't be here, now would I?"
Harry threaded his hands nervously through his hair. "I need to find him. I need to know he's alright. I have this really bad feeling…"
"Let's check the dungeons first, then?" Blaise shrugged. "We've got to start somewhere, and it's not like Draco would ever go hiding in Hufflepuff or something."
"Yes," Harry agreed, and grabbed the girl's arm, starting to drag her towards the right staircase. "That's a good idea."
"Of course it is." Blaise tried to keep up with Harry's pace without stumbling over her feet.
"I just hope he's alright," Harry muttered.
"Stop it, Potter," Blaise snapped. "You're acting like a mother hen. And you're also scaring me with that ridiculous anxiety. I mean, seriously, what could possibly have happened to him? Hah! This is Hogwarts!"
"Exactly." Harry looked serious.
Blaise and Harry zigzagged in the narrow dungeon aisles for a while, trying to peek into every shadowy room as they passed them by. They both knew, however, that Draco would not lower himself into hiding in cold and dusty former classrooms; but having something to do in their uneasiness relieved both their minds.
"He's not here," Blaise said finally, closing the last wooden door before the entrance portrait into Slytherin.
"Let's go check the dormitories, then," Harry grunted, massaging his temples.
"Harry?" Blaise ventured.
"Yeah?"
"You really love him, don't you?"
"Don't be silly, girl." Harry immediately straightened his pose. "Of course not. We're just having sex."
"Uh-huh." Blaise looked at him through her long, black eyelashes, mouth twisting.
Harry groaned and averted his eyes from Blaise's. "Alright, fine, so I do care about him, so what? Now, can we please go on with our search? Because if we don't, I'll go probably mad with worry within seconds."
Blaise laughed and twined her left arm around Harry's waist. "Let's go, gorgeous… We can't have you going mad, now, can we? Draco wouldn't like that at all, and Merlin knows he'd blame me for it."
"How could he blame you for it?" Harry asked, slightly relaxed now that he was stepping through the portrait into Slytherin in Blaise's embrace. "He has caused this all himself, by disappearing from me."
"You should already know that there's never anything wrong with Draco's behaviour… nothing's ever his fault." Blaise sniggered. "There's always somebody else to blame for everything."
Harry couldn't help snorting with amusement. "Of course. I forgot."
"Blaise!" Vincent Crabbe came bustling to them, Gregory Goyle following closely behind. "Blaise! Help us! You're the only one he'll listen to!"
"What now?" Blaise sighed.
"It's Draco… Oh, hey, Potter," Vincent noticed. "Well, it's good you're here, too. Maybe, together, you two might be able to persuade him to open the door."
"Hey, hey, slow down," Blaise crossed her arms and stared at the two chubby sidekicks of Draco. "What's this all about?"
"Draco," Gregory whined, "has locked himself into our dorm room and won't let us in."
Harry and Blaise shared a confused, but slightly relieved, look.
"Can't you come and tell him to open the door?" Gregory continued. "Please?"
Harry hid a small smile, "Sure. We'll do all within our power to make him open the door. But I can't promise you anything… It may be an impossible task. Doors, you know, are sometimes very fickle things."
Vincent and Gregory stared at him weirdly, but then nodded in agreement. Blaise was desperately trying to suffocate her sniggers.
"Shall we, then?" Harry grinned and gestured his new Slytherin friends to lead the way.
When they arrived at the dormitory a couple of minutes later, they already found Theodore Nott sitting on the aisle floor, leaning against the wall and reading a book. His expression was murderous.
"Theo?" Blaise knelt in front of him, leaning on the boy's bent knees. "So it's true, then. Draco won't let you guys in?"
"Well, what does it look like, Bini?" Theodore hissed. "Oh, of course, I am just sitting here on the dusty cold floor because it's so much more fun than my own soft and warm bed."
Harry knocked on the door, startling a bit when a strong flood of magic streamed into him through the bare contact. He immediately recognized at least twenty very powerful locking charms, quite difficult to dissolve. Of course, he did not say anything to the Slytherins who surrounded him because that would've exposed his skills in wandless magic quite clearly. Therefore, he took out his wand and put up a little show, casting a few spells on the door that would reveal its magical status.
"He's locked it quite securely," he eventually muttered. "What's up with him?"
"We don't know." Theodore hauled himself up from the floor and dusted off his robes. "He's just screaming horrible obscenities at us every time we threaten to come in by force."
"And, of course, we know better than to go in there when he is like that," Vincent completed Theodore's sentence, frowning. "He'd probably Kedavra all of us."
Harry quirked his brow at the boy and leaned his ear against the wood of the door. "Draco, are you there?"
"Fuck off," was the muffled reply.
"Only with you, baby," Harry said, with his most persuasive tone.
"Harry?"
"Yeah, it's me."
A long moment of silence followed. Harry looked at Blaise, Theodore, Vincent and Gregory. The Slytherins all either shrugged or rolled their eyes.
"Draco?"
"Yes, what now?"
"Can I come in?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I want to be alone."
"Are you sick? You didn't come to classes, so I thought… Well?"
"I'm just fine."
Blaise came to Harry and also pressed her ear against the door. "Draco darling?"
"Leave me alone!"
"Stop acting like the git that you are," Blaise huffed. "Come out, we need to see that you're alright. We're worried. We miss you."
"Then go miss me someplace else!"
"Zabs?" Harry whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I don't feel good about this. Does this happen often?"
"No, not really that often," she whispered back. "And usually it's just about a bad-hair-day."
"I don't think this is about… that." Harry looked serious.
"Me neither."
Harry knocked at the door once more. "Draco? I'm coming in."
"NO! Don't! Don't… Just… Leave me alone, Potter! Go away! I don't want to see you anymore!"
Blaise, as well as Theodore, raised their brows at this forceful statement. Harry looked utterly shocked.
"So are you dumping me?" he asked, voice trembling with sudden inner fury and misery.
"I… YES! I'm leaving you, you stupid Gryffindor brat!"
Harry's eyes flashed. "WHAT?"
"I'm leaving you, so bugger off back to Gryffindor! I don't want you near me again, you filthy tramp!"
All the Slytherins gasped with horror.
"Fine!" Harry shouted at Draco. "If that's what you want."
"That's exactly what I want. Now GO TO HELL!"
Blaise looked at Harry with wide, green eyes and shot her hand out to hold Harry from the forearm. "He can't mean that, Harry."
"I think he made his point unquestionably clear," Harry said, his voice strained, his shoulders tense.
"No, don't go." Tears of disbelief filled Blaise's eyes when Harry turned his back at her. "Don't leave us like this."
"What do you want me to do?" Harry sneered.
"Just… Don't go. This is not normal! This is all so fucked up… He's clearly not himself… Ask him why he's like this! Ask him to re-consider his words!"
"I'm not a beggar," Harry said firmly, and marched out of Slytherin.
**
Draco's knees failed and he collapsed against Morgan, the mirror. Hot tears filled his eyes, streaming down his cheeks, burning his delicate skin. He opened and closed his eyes, his body twisting now with an overpowering inner agony, and he began to hyperventilate. With his last powers, he cast a Silencing charm on the room.
"Now why did you do that, dear?" Morgan whispered, with a teary voice. "Why were you so rude to our lovely Harry?"
Draco shortly wondered how a mirror could have a teary voice, but then forgot about that and remembered what he'd just done.
He had left Harry.
"Oh, god…" He buried his head in his hands and began to sob again, uncontrollably.
"Why?" the mirror cried along with him. "Why did you do that? Why did you hurt him? Why did you hurt yourself like this?"
"I did it… Because I love him," Draco exhaled, his words barely a whisper. "I don't want to h-hurt him…"
"You would never hurt anone, love…" Morgan tried to sooth the wrecked boy.
"I WOULD, dammit!" Draco howled in rage, and hit his fist against the floor. Then he turned around, and scowled at his own face in the mirror. "I just KILLED MY COUSIN! I sliced her skin! I hit her face when she pleaded for mercy! I… For fuck's sake! I… I… Watched how Voldemort ripped her heart out… and I… I did nothing… Nothing… I just watched… Her blood at my hands…"
Draco fell down in front of Morgan again, leaning his wet cheek against the mirror's shining surface. He left there a trail of blood and salty tears as he slid downwards, and finally curled in a little ball on the floor. He closed his eyes and wanted to fall asleep… Eternal sleep…
"Now look around you, Grey-Eyes… And meet your new family!" Voldemort said, triumphantly.
Draco, keeping his tears in check, proudly lifted up his chin, and scanned the group that had gathered in a circle around him and the Dark Lord. They all had their hoods down, but still he recognized easily his relations, Bellatrix and Rodolphus, Rabastan and his mother, Narcissa… He did not see Lucius anywhere, which mildly surprised him. Then, a short and rather chubby man, most likely Wormtail, stepped forth, and raised his wand.
"You may begin," Voldemort's voice echoed in the clearing.
And then, the pain had started.
"Crucio! CRUCIO!…" The curses had hit him one after another, almost killing him with their power. "Crucio…!"
Draco woke up from the shallow slumber he had managed to fall into when the pain of the Unforgivable curses started to scorch his body again. It was still lingering in there, inside him, in his veins... The one and only Cruciatus. Once you learned to know the extent of that pain, you never would forget it... Never… You'd be always able to feel it
again... and again... and again…
But still, not even Voldemort's own Crucio could've been able to overpower the pain he was feeling in his heart because of what he had just done.
He had left Harry.
Draco bit hard on his fist and screamed, drawing blood with his cuspids from his shaking hand.
"I don't want to hurt him…" he spoke, his voice shaking, still keeping his teeth embedded into his skin. "But I'm no longer the master of my own self… I'm a Death Eater now… I might hurt him… And I don't want to hurt him… I don't… I… I don't want to h-hurt him… I'd rather kill myself before betraying him… I… I could kill myself…"
"Ssshhhh… It's alright… It's going to be just alright," Morgan whispered and started to hum a quiet lullaby, hoping against all hope that Draco would calm down.
Draco stopped speakng incoherent words and fell silent as Morgan's deep soothing voice filled the room.
Morgan watched how the most beautiful boy in her acquaintance lay in shreds on the floor, both his body and heart torn apart.
…TBC…