Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter characters.
A/N I just realized I mightwant to finish up all my stories before my school year ends. I have a lot of writting to do x.o -makes note to step up pace- I can't seem to upload word files but note pad seems to work fine... Hmm odd. Anyways hope you like the new chapter! I was told its the best one yet, lets see what you think of it.
You spend very few days outside of Malfoy's rooms, not wanting to be seen, because when you are, you are jabbed at, struck down, and humiliated over and over again. You feel like some stray dog that a bunch of kids torment everyday, and always trying to run away with your tail behind your legs.
And these kids have wands and curses upon quick tongues.
You don't see much of anyone, except Malfoy. His blonde hair is never in disarray, and his black robes are never ripped. His posture is always great, and he always looks proud.
That's why when he walks, no hobbles, in the room you're surprised, not concerned. Even though your green eyes probably blaze with worry it is just surprise at seeing him with blood on his cheek.
You walk up to help him without thinking, and he lets himself lean on you. You don't talk as you maneuver him through the room, past the chairs, and onto the bed. His blonde hair sticks out at odd points, and his robes reek of dried blood.
You check his person, pulling his robes up over his head. His pale torso isn't marred in any way; you're not too sure why he looks so mangled. His eyes flutter open, looking less like ice for once, as if they've melted and are soon going to start tearing up.
"A little girl... how could they do that to a harmless three year old?" he chokes out, and you're surprised. He's supposed to be as heartless as the rest of them. You're unsure of what to do, you think maybe you should hold him but it seems improper to do so.
You settle with getting up and moving to the door that leads to a bathroom. You pick up a cloth from a table and turn on a silver encrusted tap to a fountain. The clear liquid starts to flow in the basin, and you put the cloth under the tap, allowing it to get drenched in the cool water.
You feel the cloth dampen you skin, and walk back to Malfoy who's lying on the bed, breathing as if he's just thrown up. You put the cold cloth on his forehead, and he seems to calm with the cooling of his skin, yet he still seems a bit frazzled.
You want to ask, and yet you don't, what little girl? You know it couldn't have been good, to see a reaction like this; he tells you so you don't have to ask, and so he can get it off his chest.
"They killed her, a little girl. They tortured her, made her scream and cry for her mother… She was so scared and they didn't even seem to care." Malfoy kept saying, rambling about how innocent the girl had been, her screams, the blood. It makes you sick to your stomach but you still sit there and rub the damp cloth over his neck and face.
'What did you expect? Voldemort's a madman. He's incapable to think for anyone but himself and his own gain, you idiot.' you think. He finally gets up the strength to bat the cloth away, standing up without giving you so much as a thank you. This boils your blood to be ignored so.
He takes off the bloody robe, throwing it onto the clean carpet. The blood is probably dry so it won't stain, and why you care if it stains, you're not sure. You watch his back retreat into the bathroom, and hear the thunder of water coming from the bath.
He walks back in, totally naked. You can't believe, even though you've seen him like this many times, how he just walks around, proud as ever, even after being so unnerved earlier. You would have been sleeping and dreaming of nightmares if you saw what he saw.
He's too damn collected and you once again find yourself angry with him. How can he brush it off like that and go have a bath? It's like cleaning up and washing away what happened so it can go away down the drain. It would never do that with you; the drain could not swallow an innocent's death to you.
Even with no clothes on he's proud, and that irks you the most. You can't even have your shirt off without feeling somewhat conscious of your body. He seems as though it's an everyday thing. Maybe for him it is.
"You look like you could use a bath Potter, when was the last time you had one?" Malfoy asks, and you glare at him with anger. You haven't had one since you came from the nurse's room of course, Malfoy hasn't let you anywhere near the bloody bathroom unless you have to do your business.
And he's followed you in as well. It's horribly embarrassing, and now you can see he's not going to let you use the bath unless he's in it as well. "It's been awhile since I remember having one. You're not going to let my dirty self have a bath in your bathtub alone are you?" you sneer at him.
"Yes." he replies coolly, before walking back into the bathroom, he starts to close the door so you scurry in and just manage to scram past the door as it clicked and was locked by Malfoy.
You glare at him, as he watches you, expectantly. "Turn around." you finally hiss, seeing he has no intention of doing so. He rolls his cool gray eyes and turns around so you can change. Not that it makes much difference, either way he's seen you naked before.
Yet for you it still makes all the difference in the world because you never gave yourself up willingly. You hear him enter the tub by the water sloshing around behind you. Once all your clothes are off, you turn around, glaring at him.
"When are you going to let me in here alone? I'm not a baby!" you growl out, sliding into the tub. It's big enough to fit you and him in it, and the taps are made of silver, as if personalized for the man sitting in the tub with a sponge in his hand and soap in the other.
He looks rather funny actually, now that you think of it. His eyebrows are raised slightly, with his mouth open a bit. You don't know why you find this amusing, it just is to you. 'I'm not making any sense anymore.' you think, knowing that maybe you're finally losing it.
"When I can trust you, Potter, not a likely thing to happen." Malfoy replies, opening the bottle of soap and letting the contents drop onto the sponge. He hands it over to you, and you take it with eager hands, because you know you smell.
You start to wash your arms off, trying to get as clean as you can. You try to tune out the rest of the world, the fact your feet keep hitting his legs, the fact his hand keeps wondering over to your legs and brushing them with another sponge.
Finally you look up, to see him watching you intently. "Would you please stop that, I'm trying to clean myself," you snap, only to have him get up, take the sponge away from you and kiss you lips softly.
You get your hands in-between him and you, pushing a bit to get his body away form yours. "No." you say, your voice shaking a bit. He tries to move back in but you push with your hands again, and he is pushed back farther. "Stop." you, repeat, sounding sterner.
He growls, and leaves you alone, picking up the sponge and scrubbing his pale skin ruthlessly. You're not sure if he's actually stopped but you soon realize when he gets out of the tub and takes a silver towel off the rack beside you he is going to stop.
When he leaves the bathroom, unlocking and closing the door again, you're unsure of what just went on. 'I thought you'd never trust me.' you think, as if trying to tell him that through telepathy and get him riled up again.
He doesn't even touch you that night, letting you sleep alone. You don't miss his arms, the warmth was convenient though. Wrapped up in the blankets, you still feel chilled. You move your back over to his, trying to feel the warmth of his back on yours.
Once you shift on the bed and bump against his back gently, you sigh as the warmth emitted from his body warms you up a bit. You find sleep easily with his back pressed up against yours.
You don't register that you always felt a bit chilled even with warm blankets wrapped around you at night, and sleeping in his arms makes sleep come faster then it ever has before.
The next day Snape comes back with Malfoy. Snape is staring at the blonde with concerned eyes; Malfoy seems a bit vexed and agitated. The fact that he is not cool and collected for once makes you want to smile.
You take your attention off Malfoy and glare at Snape, ready to curse his ears out. "Draco, why don't you go and hex the girl for what she said to you? I'll handle Potter fine on my own." Snape suggested, and Malfoy nodded, and hastened out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Stay away from me!" you cry out, running across the room. Snape only glares at you with loathing; it's as if he hasn't betrayed you at all.
"Potter, pull yourself together. It's a good thing I caught Draco at such a time when he and Bullstrode were at each other's throats again, he's positively dying to kill her now." Snape says, and you look at him, dumbstruck.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter, stop looking like some clueless first year and look more like a man!" he snaps at you again, you only stare at him disbelieving.
"But you... you betrayed…" you start to say only to have Snape hold his wand at your head.
"Don't you dare accuse me of betraying anyone. If it's anyone I'm betraying it's Draco Malfoy. He trusts me alone with you, and I'm going to tell you information I should not be telling you. If you can keep them out of your mind of course." Snape says, and you nod, understanding finally.
"You're still with the order?" you ask, and Snape growls.
"Of course I am you stupid boy. Now I do not have a plan to get you out of here, as of yet. The wards holding you in are too strong to break. And Malfoy will have a hawk's eye over you. Now listen closely, Albus and the Weasley twins are trying to figure out a plan to get you out of here, and I'm going to have to help, so at least be civil with me." Snape explained.
You nod over and over again, not believing what you hear. There's still hope, and it's lifting your spirits. "Was Ginny Weasley buried?" you ask, trying to relax your throat as you think of your friend and how she died.
"She's not dead yet, Potter. She's having a slow recovery." Snape replied. Hearing that made your eyes brighten up. Snape held out a tube in front of him, a tube meant for taking blood. "But I need to keep up appearance here, and act like a Death Eater, so if you please, you're blood."
You lift up you robes sleeve, showing your arm for him to take the blood. "I won't have to carry the monster will I?" you ask, and Snape looks at you with a bit of seething anger.
"A creature, Potter, not a monster. There is a difference." Snape says, coming closer and taking you arms roughly, searching for the vein in your arm. "If we cannot get you out of here in a month's time, then yes you will have to carry the creature as a mother. Voldemort already tried with a female. It killed the young Miss Parkinson."
You shudder at his words, and as the needle goes into your skin, you wonder why he would make Parkinson carry a monster. "Why would he make his own…?" Harry asked before Snape cut him off, taking with him the vial of blood.
"Because she was powerful enough, not as powerful as you of course, and she was a female." Snape explained, only it makes no sense to you why female has anything to do with it, aren't they supposed to have children?
"Women get pregnant, not men." you respond. Snape nodes his greasy locks.
"Yes, but it seems women are not strong enough to carry what the Dark Lord is trying to create. You're blood seems to be strong enough with the magic we'll use to create the creature, but so was Parkinson's." Snape replies. You shiver, knowing you may not have a chance to live if you have to carry the monster.
"Was Malfoy the 'father' to that one as well?" you ask. Snape only shakes his head.
"The Dark Lord was, but it seems Malfoy's blood is more workable with the magic. It doesn't matter to the Dark Lord, as long as he gets a killing machine." Snape says, and you know it's true.
"I don't care if whatever you're going to impregnate with me is, anything that is going to come out of me is not going to be Voldemort's lap dog." You mean that too. Call it a hero complex, or complete hate for Voldemort, but he's not getting this creature for his own use.
Suddenly the door opened up again, and Malfoy walked in, looking calm and collected as ever, his eyes emotionless as always. "I have what I came for, hope you can handle the parasite, Draco" Snape says, and for once you don't take offence to the name. You know you'll be free some day.
"Fine Severus." Malfoy replies, and Snape sweeps out of the room and closes the door abruptly. Malfoy looks back at you, looking suspicious. You just glare at him with hate and it goes away.
He moves away from you and you notice his hand is deeply gashed. How he cannot make a commotion with the blood seeping down his hand like that, you will never know. "You're bleeding." you point out.
"Thank you for the brilliant deduction Potter." he snarls back, going into the bathroom, turning on the silver taps and putting his hand under the water. He barely winces, but he does wince.
You follow him into the room, with a bandage that you got form a cupboard. After searching the room thoroughly, you have come to know where things are.
Once he takes the cut form under the tap, the blood slowing in its flow a bit, you grasp his wrist and start to wrap his hand up. You look up to catch his gray eyes, looking at you with something you've never seen before. Confusion, it's set deep in his eyes, as if clouding them up.
"I know you can use magic to heal this but you don't seem to have your wand on you right now… I just thought…" you start to ramble on, trying to explain yourself not to him, but more like to yourself.
He stares at you with that gray gaze again, and you can swear you see the same flicker of emotion that goes as quickly as it comes. "Yeah my father confiscated it until Bullstrode and I stop acting like teenagers and more like responsible Death Eaters we have to be." he answers.
You sigh, it sounds very much like the Malfoy you knew in school, almost. There is more knowledge in that voice now, and you find yourself wondering if Malfoy really is the cold-hearted bastard you think he is. 'Of course he is the same bastard he always was!' your mind cries, but another little part betrays you and wonders still.
Soon his mouth is on yours, only this time, you wrap your arms around his neck, and let him in. You hope that this time, if you say stop, he will. Yet you already know the truth.
Review! Tell me whatchya think. Oh and I'll answer a few reviews from last time now. Not all, I don't trust this site right now.
ura-hd I don't intend for Harry to have a child, It's a magical creature. I think I can bend the rules to pregnancy with this one, I think o.O
lovemehatemejustdon'tfearme I dunno if it is, I'm making it up as I go along! Well I have the basic plot idea but other then that, the rest is up for negotations!