Author: l'Ciel
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: JKR, and some more I think – I don't own anything but the plot – oh, and Ice Drakes, that's mine too! And that sexy nurse (god bless her brainless boobs)
Rating: hard R for implicit sexual content, NC-17 for explicit sexual content
Warnings: violence, brain washing, non-con,
Pairings: HP/DG, SS/LM; side pairings: HP/BZ, NM/LM
Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst
Summary : After the events of OotP, Harry runs away from the Dursleys. The only one to find him is Snape, but where do the spy's loyalties truly lie? Slash & Het, war-story
Main characters: Harry, Snape, Lucius, Voldemort, Dumbledore
AN/ Now, this is chapter 2. After my beta sent me her work, I unfortunately did mess up with all the data I had, so I'm not sure how far everything is beta-read. (this goes for the whole story) If you encounter a chapter with unusually many mistakes, please state this in a review and I'll look over it again. In any case, please don't judge me too hard, because English is not my mother tongue! Now, well, enjoy
02) Stronger Than Justice
Severus was furious. The boy had nerves to just wander around Knockturne Alley of all streets! Did he not know how dangerous it was?
Or did he simply not care?
Certainly, not even Potter could be that stupid!
The boy shivered under his grasp and tried to free himself. Sighing, Severus let him go, but only far enough to breath, not to run. Potter's defiant and somewhat calculating eyes told him the boy thought about just that, but obviously even he knew it was useless. The taller wizard would catch him in a second and Potter had never been in this Alley. How so? Only few wizards knew the secret street, mostly dark wizards and all kind of vermin, he noted, when a silver-pawed rat sped by his boot. Potter gazed at him uneasily.
"Well, Mr. Potter," he hissed. "I suggest we get on moving, or we might get noticed by Merlin-knows-what. Get up, boy and follow me!"
He roughly shoved him back against the wall and the boy tripped over his ridiculously high heels.
"I said 'get up' or are you deaf? I haven't got all day and the way you're lounging here one side will find you sooner or later! And neither will be gentle – come on, move!"
The boy glared at him and slowly got up. Stumbling, he clutched his ankle and moaned, before carefully putting some weight on the strained limp. He winced and looked at Snape accusingly. Irritated, the Potions master growled and whipped out his wand, pointing it at the boy. A sharp "Stupefy!" and the problem was solved.
Looking up and down the alley, he saw nobody and lifted the boy, before he apparated to Malfoy Manor.
In the mild light of the morning, the estate looked absolutely peaceful. Embedded in a green valley near a stream, in between generous, well tended gardens, the Edwardian manor with its white façade looked like a dream-come-true. The driveway gravel crunched under his feed, as he neared the wide entrance. Walking through the middle two of the four grand marble pillars, the heavy ornate doors swung open to welcome him. In the wide entrance hall, he was greeted by a minor servant of his. He did not even remember his name.
"Bring Snape to me. At once!" he hissed venomously and glided past the cowering creature. The doors to the ballroom opened on their own, as he past and he strode over to his throne, crimson robes billowing around him. The Death Eaters that had been already there looked at him, startled, before they could regain their stance and hurriedly bowed, some nearly touching the ground, which simply looked ridiculous. But then, nothing proper could be expected from those useless little imbeciles. Snape, on the other hand, had once again surprised him. He just did not know yet, if in a positive or negative sense.
Only a few second later, the doors reopened and said servant entered, bowing slightly in his walk and holding in front of him, gracefully falling on his knee and kissing his master's hand. When the Dark Lord nodded, he stood and stepped back a little, before he began to speak lowly. With increasing interest, the Dark Lord listened, and, after his servant had ended, he began to smile. The smile soon turned into a wide grin and then into maniacal laughter.
The servant did not move. He did not even blink. After the Dark Lord had regained his calm, he nodded approvingly and dismissed the Death Eater.
Smiling to himself, he leaned back on his throne and evaluated the latest events in his mind. Satisfied, he motioned his minions to leave and fell back in thought. Yes, this information was certainly interesting.
The walls were bare stone, ruddy and carved by the fingernails and spoons of hundreds of previous criminals imprisoned there. On the floor puddles of water had formed in the corner under the barred window after the latest thunderstorm. Beyond, the sea was gurgling and waves rocked the cliffs in a steady rhythm. The cold air smelled of salt and human fear.
Even though the dementors were not patrolling the corridors anymore, the torture had not ended. The unholy creatures had been replaced by wizards, not an ounce friendlier. The screams that echoed from the stone were not those of insanity and misery anymore, but of panic and pain. The torturers still wore dark robes, but dark blue and with official seals of the Ministry.
'No mercy with darkness,' the new parole was. Once the mark on your arm was detected, your life was forfeit. There were no trials for Death Eaters, no rights, no hope to ever see the sun again. Although the cells had windows, they were so small that little light would pass through, and the prisoners, chained against the floor beyond them, could not see.
Staring at the ceiling, Lucius Malfoy pulled the tattered blanket closer around his bony shoulders. Slumped against the wall in the only dry corner of his cell, he had curled up to keep at least relatively warm. His bare feet were aching and probably getting blue from the cold, but he could not see it under all the dirt. Breathing in, his throat and lungs hurt, but the doctor rarely came, mostly to collect the bodies. His once shiny blonde hair had become dull and tangled, greasy at the top and hopelessly knotted at the ends. His pale skin was shallow and grey, the formerly intense silver eyes grey, but still intense in their pain and hate of everything around him. Gritting his teeth, he suppressed the urge to whimper and carefully rubbed his feet, afraid to hurt the numb limbs.
The sharp click of heels reverberated from the corridor, when one of the guards neared him. A heavy key croaked in the lock and the barred door opened. Lucius pulled his legs closer to his chest and prayed the 'security' man came only to taunt him. Nobody talked about the screams that were heard at night, but every single prisoner knew where they came from…
"Malfoy!" the guard kicked his side and he groaned. Looking up, he was greeted with a hard punch in the face. Cradling his cheek, he whimpered lowly and braced himself. Another punch followed soon, and another. The heavy steel toe boots bruised his flesh and he felt two of his rips crack. Gasping for air, he struggled against the safeguard.
"Let me be, please…" 'Lucius Malfoy' was BEGGING. His insides twisted at that thought, but right then he was beyond fear. He could not breathe, could not defend himself. Whimpering, he fell to his side and regained his breath, if troubled, while the guard backed off for a minute. But before he could completely recover himself, he was kicked in the gut brutally. Groaning, he tried to cover his sensitive parts. The boot came down again, on his head, on his hand, a terrible noise accompanied by a spiky jolt of pain. He knew his hand was smashed, then somebody kicked him in the balls and once again in the face, before everything went black…
When he awoke, the first thing he noticed was a brain-splitting headache. Along with it came nausea and a certain dislocated feeling. Groaning, he pried one eye open and closed it immediately again because of the brightness. Somebody moved near his… bed?... and pressed the neck of a vial against his lips. Recognizing the sharp scent of pepper-up he swallowed the potion and carefully sat up, eyes opening slightly.
When he had adjusted to the light, he looked around and found himself in a luxuriously furnished room. Everything was done in light wood and shades of green. Gazing up, he found a large silver dragon stitched onto the canopy of the four poster bed. And on the bedside sat Snape, a frown etched onto his sour features.
"Are you quite finished yet?" he growled and got up. "There're some robes on the chair and that door," he pointed at the one near the window, "leads to the bathroom. You have five minutes to look presentable. Hurry up, Potter, or you'll regret it!"
"Why… Who, where are we?" Harry stuttered.
"Malfoy Manor. And the time is running. Up!"
"But we can't be here, you're loyal to D…"
Snape rose his wand with an evil snarl and hastily, Harry stumbled out of bed and grabbed the robes, before disappearing into the bathroom. Five minutes later he was out again and Snape slapped him once – hard.
"You're thirty seconds late, get going, boy. We're not at Hogwarts-petting-zoo anymore."
Horrified, he stumbled after Snape. Escape was ridiculous. All of the dozens of corridors they passed were looking alike, every corner the same. Harry was lost after only three turns.
Then they entered into a staircase, descended it and found themselves in a small corridor with only one more door.
"Now listen, Potter," Snape said, facing Harry with a very serious expression. "I will only tell you this once. We're at Malfoy Manor, which is unplottable. In the hall behind this door, the Dark Lord is waiting for his prize and when you utter only ONE WRONG WORD or speak without permission, you will die. Do we have an understanding?"
"Yes, sir."
"You will call him 'my lord' or 'master', if you talk to him, you will bow and you will not display another foolish act of Gryffindor bravery. AND: don't count on the headmaster getting you out – he won't. He can't help you."
"I know, sir."
"Fine. May Merlin help you…"
In exactly that moment the door opened and Wormtail entered, back bowed and eyes moving madly.
"The master wants to see the boy, now," the Death Eater said faintly and let them pass. Harry shuddered when he moved by the man. Gods, how he hated the dirty rat!
The mutters and hushed whispers that had filled the hall ceased at once when they entered. From all sides, Death Eaters stared at them. Most of them wore their masks, but Harry immediately recognized a few; there was Pettigrew hunched beside the door; Macnair on the right, chuckling insanely as they passed; Bellatrix Lestrange stood near her sister, Narcissa Malfoy, who smiled just as evilly; and before him there was Voldemort, sitting on a high backed throne and gazing directly at him, his face nearly void of emotion. Only the crimson eyes were flickering darkly in their sockets.
"Mr. Potter, what an honour to finally have you here at our modest abode. An honour indeed," Voldemort's voice silkily filled the large room. Harry swallowed and gathered his strength, trying to push down the fear that crept up his spine.
"And you, my most loyal follower, Severus, you pleased me greatly, not that it's surprising. You always had a sense for the seemingly impossible. Welcome back to my side", he motioned to one of the armchairs near him and Snape bowed lightly, before taking a seat.
"Now to you, Harry Potter. I believe we have met only recently, but were not able to speak much. I hope the room was acceptable? I wouldn't want my guest to be uncomfortable."
Harry could not speak. His thoughts reeled and he felt nauseous. His pulse raced and his breath quickened. Fear had its iron grip on his chest and pressed him down.
The Dark Lord grew impatient and his eyes flashed darkly, "You don't want to speak to me? Afraid?"
The Cruciatus came quicker than Harry had expected. He was thrown back, his limbs twitching as he churned in agony. The pain blinded him, maimed him, cut off all rational thought. All he wanted was for the pain to stop. But it did not. Another curse was flung at him and it felt as if a thousand long needles were piercing his flesh. He screamed, writhed and whimpered. And then it stopped.
With bloodshot eyes he looked up to his tormentor. He did not care about the prophecy any longer, he just wanted this to end. But Voldemort did not seem to grant him much relief. Soon again, the pain restarted and Harry was once again writhing on the floor. Blood splattered from his mouth as he felt something within him rip from the tension on his muscles. The blood invaded his lungs and he heaved, coughed, but the horrible pain made breathing nearly impossible. And then it stopped again.
"Now you see what it means to resist me! You will only be one of many, just another half-blood that will die at my hands!" Voldemort spat hatefully and raised his wand one more time. Harry knew it was over. He could not run, could not hide and nobody would save him. Snape was a traitor, Dumbledore unreachable, the Order powerless…
"You are just a half-blood too, Tom," his voice was only a whisper, but over the deathly silence that filled the room, while the Death Eaters were anxiously awaiting the final curse, it was loud enough. Voldemort screeched. Infuriated, he hissed wild obscenities and even his servants shivered in fear of his rousing anger. Snapping his wand at the boy, he spoke and his voice could have frozen the plants outside.
"You, Potter, will die. Hours after hours, you will die – slowly, until you beg for it! Your dignity shall be stripped from you, your body torn, beaten, ripped, cut, and you will live until I let you die! And it won't be soon! When you were slightly afraid now, I will teach you fear now!"
Harry's eyes bulged slightly. He knew this was not an empty threat. Expecting another series of Cruciatus, he steeled himself, but this time another part of him would be tortured.
"Legilimens!" the Dark Lord shouted and Harry's weak defences were broken instantly. And the Dark Lord took his time. Every gruesome day of his wretched life was on replay: Sirius died all over again, the prophecy, Mr. Weasley, Umbridge, 'I must not lie', Cedric, the dementors, Pettigrew, the chamber and the basilisk, Ginny, Tom, Lockhart, Aragog, Quirrel, Fluffy, the monster in the forest, the house on the rock in the sea, the letters, Pierce, Gordon and Dudley playing 'Harry Hunting', uncle Vernon taking out the belt, Petunia refusing to let him play with Dudley's old toys, the kids at school laughing at his ragged clothes, no presents, no hugs, his mother screaming, green light, his father's shouts, Aunt Marge insulting his parents, Lily screaming, green light, Cedric, the belt, Aunt Petunia sending him into the cupboard, the teachers at school scolding him for not doing his homework, trying to explain that he could not read the texts, Aunt Petunia screaming at his how much glasses cost, Vernon screaming, glasses being worth more that his freaky hide, the belt…
The curse ended and Harry rolled up on the cold tiles. His eyes were wet, tears staining his face. He barely felt the darkness leave his mind, he was so caught up in his memories. The next thing he noticed were people staring at him, or rather, Death Eaters staring at Voldemort, who was in turn staring at Harry with an odd look on his face.
/Dumbledore took a seat behind the long table. Most of the other judges were already present and the trial would soon begin. Rita Skeeter sat in one of the front rows in the large courtroom. The door opened and two aurors brought in the defendant. The pale, blonde boy sat stiffly on the chair in front of the podium, as the chains would themselves around his thin arms. Stormy grey eyes stared defiantly in his and the chief warlock sighed inwardly.
Draco Lucius Malfoy had been a lost cause./
Slipping out of his memories, Dumbledore put the pensive away and walked over to his desk, where the newest edition of the Daily Prophet waited to be read.
Minor Sentenced For Life, the headline was, Draco Malfoy, son of the former Ministry employee and convicted follower of the Dark Lord, was sentenced for life yesterday. Although it is unconstitutional under other circumstances to do so, the Wizengamont has officially penalized the sixteen-year-old to a life sentence in Askaban for partaking in an illegal organization, the Death Eaters, followers of You-Know-Who. Against the heavy protest of his mother, who still claims ignorance of her husband and son's transgression, he was transported to the island this morning. The family's lawyer, Mr. Wilkes, is currently in detention for investigation. Officers from the DfLE suspect him of having ties to such organizations. Young Mr. Malfoy gave evidence that he joined the Dark Lord to avenge his father and to clean this world from unworthy scum (referring to our muggle-born citizens) and vermin. He also pleads that he would have been forced to participate, had his father been at home, as Death Eaters commit their whole families to their lord. Children of known Death Eaters have been placed into safe houses as a precaution against possible assault from You-Know-Who. In cooperation with the Order of the Phoenix, the Ministry is still investigating against multiple persons. Of course, we could not obtain more information since this is top secret. Let us hope all Death Eaters will suffer their well deserved chastisement.
Rita Skeeter
AN/ Updates are going to come, I just can't say how often, because I'm still editing the end and my beta (thanks to you again) still has to do the later chapters. It really depends on how busy we are. But I can already promise it's going to be a LONG story.
R&R!
