Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, WB, Scholastic, and all others involved. Unfortunately, this doesn't include me. I'm just taking the boys out for a little joy ride.


In a room roughly the size of Hogwart's Great Hall, was gathered a congregation of people. All were dressed identically in flowing black robes. White masks hung listless at their sides, or were strewn about the floor.

In the background, Draco Malfoy tied to remain as inconspicuous as possible. The feat proved to be near impossible with him being who he was. He kept his face blank and his eyes hooded. He'd retreated to a far corner of his mind. To a place where screams, pain and death never reached.

He stood motionless at the scene in front of him. A girl was bound to a dais. Blood dripped from her nose and the corner of her mouth. The whites of her eyes were blood red, also. Her hair was greasy, tangled and matted. The tattered vestiges of her clothes were covered in dirt, blood, semen, piss and shit.

She was tonight's entertainment/lesson. All the Death Eaters took their pleasure of her; whether it was torturing her, cutting her, or fucking her; everyone had a turn.

Blessedly, it didn't take long for her mind to snap. It was Draco who'd done it. He had walked up to her, wand out, and looked into her eyes. The tears had stopped long ago. Instead, she stared up at the ceiling. He had reached out and tucked an errant strand of black hair behind her ear, and she broke. He body had shuddered and convulsed, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she had screamed until her throat bled.

The others congratulated Draco on a job well done. He wanted to scream at everyone that he hadn't done anything. All he did was show some pathetic, beaten wisp of a girl a small bit of compassion. Draco felt nauseas.

He returned to the present and noticed his 'uncle' finished fucking the girl. He watched as blood seeped from where he pounded into her. He heard the grunts, the panting and the slap of skin on skin. When he'd pulled out, his 'uncle' came all over the girl's thighs and stomach.

The gathering of Death Eaters was almost finished with the girl. The only thing left to do was to record her humiliation, then kill her. Her neck would be snapped; using magic would be too good for her; a mudblood who dared to try and join Voldemort's pure ranks of followers.

She would be a message and a warning to all mudbloods and mudblood lovers, as well as those who fought for the Light.

A young girl, just out of school. A young girl with auburn hair and clear blue eyes. A young girl whose hair was colored black and whose eyes were changed to green. A young girl, who was beaten, cut, raped and broken. A young girl who would never marry, have kids or live. This young girl would serve a purpose, and Draco Malfoy promised himself he'd never forget her.

The meeting ended with plans to attack the following weekend. The Order would need to be notified. They couldn't, wouldn't, stop the attack; but they would be able to take the necessary actions to ensure there are as few casualties as possible.

It was at times such as these that Draco loathed Severus Snape with every fiber of his being, and yet loved, respected and missed him to the depths of his very soul. If Severus hadn't been caught and killed, then Draco would never be in the position to spy. But then he'd remember his Potions Professor had gone through the same thing during his tenure as a spy.

Draco apparated a mile from his house. He needed to walk in the fresh air and clear his head. He felt dirty; he always did after one of those meetings. He felt filthy in both is body and his soul. He didn't think he'd ever be clean again.

Draco walked up the steps to his house and opened the door. He took of his coat and tossed over the back of the nearest chair; too tired to care it wasn't properly put up. He went to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a large snifter of brandy. He reveled in its burn, in the alcohol's purifying capabilities; he yearned for its warmth.

Draco had just put the glass down when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his middle.

"It isn't safe for you here."

"I know."

"What are you doing here, Harry?" Draco was torn. He wanted to sink into the comfort Harry's arms offered, but he didn't want to taint him with his filth. Draco was dirty and he didn't want to defile someone as pure and good as Harry. Draco shuddered as he saw, in his mind's eyes, black hair and green eyes, lifeless and broken.

"You needed me." Draco melted into Harry's embrace. Those words healed Draco's weary heart. That Harry would risk himself to come to Draco…

Draco let Harry lead him upstairs and into the bathroom. He let Harry run him a bath and clean away the sweat and blood from the night. He let Harry put him to bed and take him in his arms. Draco listened to the steady rhythm of Harry's heart. And, for now at least, Draco felt clean.


Alright, this is a companion piece to Keeping the Shadows at Bay. It sort of peeks into Draco's demons and shadows.