Captive

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the other characters in the book are in no way in my possession. They are borrowed to bend to my will, but they really belong to J.K. Rowling. It's a shame. In the first chapter, references are made to Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. Once again, does not belong to me.

Author's Note: I actually wrote a new story and am not dead, despite disappearing for a few, or ten, months. I've been writing Seer's Prophecies, but am thinking of revamping it because my characters are being disobedient. I still won't be the best updater for this one, but we can see how it goes. It won't be as massive as SP is supposed to be so hopefully I can actually keep the end in sight before I let my plot run wild. This story follows books 1-5, but completely ignores any events in the sixth book.

Chapter One

Harry Potter stood a few steps back from his two best friends as they happily waved good-bye to their parents. With two quick flickers of fire and two quiet pops, the adults had finally left the hearth of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place leaving the three nearly-seventh years with the summer spanning out before them.

"Finally!" Ron declared as he whirled around. "If I have to smile a bit more, I'll be like that permanently." He threw himself onto the vacated couch that sat across from the fire and reclined with all the ease of a young man with the world seemingly at his fingertips. Hermione looked relieved as well and excused herself to finish unpacking what she had brought with her for the summer. With a raised eyebrow, Ron darted after his girlfriend and, with the click of the door lock, Harry knew he wouldn't be seeing the two of them for a while.

Ron had been right about one thing; it was great to have the entire house for themselves. After Sirius had died during Harry's fifth year, the Order's headquarters was breached and then moved to a secret location somewhere in muggle London. It was just as well, he thought, because Harry and Remus could barely stand to set foot in the house again. Tonks was even more of a klutz in the manor and was an emotional wreck as well. The second time she broke a plate, she burst into tears and was inconsolable for days. His godfather had touched them all in the short years he had been back with them and none more than Harry.

After Sirius' death, he slowly drew in on himself. It wasn't a conscious effort but it seemed practically irreversible despite Ron and Hermione's attempts. Even Malfoy had nearly given up trying to get a rise out of Harry as he ghosted through the halls as if he was only half there. Seamus and Dean had stopped approaching him, Ginny had stopped fawning over him and a few of his Quidditch teammates had stopped asking him to attend practice. He would dutifully attend their games, mount his broom, catch the snitch and then dismount and disappear while the festivities continued in the Common Room.

Eventually he stopped speaking for three months and could be found only in the library pouring over defense material until the early morning. Pince didn't have the heart to kick him out and left a few torches burning before she left at night. Snape had given him permission to use the Restricted Section, much to the Ron and Hermione's disbelief, and once he scoured the defense section, he slowly waded into the Dark Art material. Harry sometimes wondered how long it would have gone on; Hermione's desperate tears hadn't stopped him, Ron's punch at an unresisting body didn't do it, and Dumbledore's downcast eyes especially couldn't pull him out of his mission. Oddly enough, it was Draco Malfoy.

He never would know exactly what it was that brought the Slytherin out to the library that night. It could have been that he didn't want Harry to take over as the resident Dark Art expert, or that he was simply bored, although Harry suspected the reason was that he wanted the attention that he normally gained during their public squabbles. Either way, it was something that brought him to that library and pushed aside the thick tomb that Harry had been intently gazing at. He had looked up at the Slytherin who held a scowl firmly in place and twirled his wands testily between his fingers.

"Really Potter," He had drawled, "I thought you would have realized your place wasn't with the Dark Arts. I mean, you do spend your time with that mudblood." He paused as if waiting for a reaction and then frowned again when he was met with a blank stare. "And let's not forget the Weasel, who only got in so that the professors could teach them a good contraceptive charm." He waited again and grimaced when the only move Harry made was to pick up his book and flip back to the correct page. "Well I can see Potter that my eloquent speech and big words have befuddled your already damaged mind." Malfoy's eyes flicked to the scar quickly before continuing to sneer. "I suppose I'll have to get your attention in a way that's crude enough that even Weasley would understand." Before Harry could turn his eyes upward, Malfoy had punched him.

It hadn't really hurt; Malfoy wasn't that large of a person, but it had stunned him enough so that he fell off his chair and knocked his glasses askew. He calmly stood up and closed his book and looked at Malfoy expectantly. They sized each other up for a few seconds and Harry braced himself for a punch that never came. Instead he was hit by curse after curse of Dark magic until blood was pouring out of his nose and he was struggling to stand in his own vomit. His mouth felt raw and even if he would speak, he wasn't sure he'd be able to.

Finally, after half an hour, Malfoy fell onto his vacated chair and wiped a lock of hair that was plastered to his forehead. Dark magic took a lot out of a wizard and all the curses he had used were high level. He turned his gray eyes to regard Harry's whose were fluttering. The room was spinning for him and it wasn't until Harry's breathing was under control and the four images of Malfoy had combined into one that the other boy began to speak.

"That was Dark Magic, Potter. It's not that Gryffindor nonsense that you think you know. How does it feel to have had your fingernails ripped out and then re-grown? Is it painful? Do you want to die? How does it feel to have your stomach lining bleeding, to throw up and roll around in your own bile? That is what Dark magic is." He sunk to the ground and crawled closer until he could haul Harry up by his robes. "What do you think you're learning? Could you have enough hate to destroy pieces of life? Because that is what Dark magic is. I really thought you knew your place." He began to stand up when Harry had gripped him by the arm and pulled him down.

"Where is my place?" He asked bitterly. "What can the great Draco Malfoy tell me about my place in the world?"

The Slytherin almost looked shocked at the sound of his voice but answered his question. "Your place is with the Light, with the Gryffindors, with Dumbledore and between your friends. Learn it." He hissed.

"You-You think this is a game?" Harry laughed before he lost his grip and fell to the ground, coughing up blood as he braced his body with his hands. Sweat dripped down his face and mingled with the faint coppery taste that lingered in his mouth.

"Do you? People die Potter; we're in a war. You don't get a time out because you're the Boy-Who-Lived. Your life is what's happening now and acting like it doesn't exist, like your friends don't exist, like Hogwarts doesn't exist is going to change the fact that Black died. Deal with it."

Harry climbed to his knees and leaned against the stack behind him. "Learn it, deal with it. What else do you fucking want me to do? What else can I do for the world, for Hogwarts, for my friends? I can't do anymore. I can't be that hero because he doesn't exist." He scrambled for the words that he spat out almost desperately at Malfoy. He didn't wonder at the time why he had chosen to share his inadequacies with his rival, but a few days later it occurred to him that he could speak of them because Malfoy already knew. He saw the flaws and the weakness, the humanity and the sinister. "I am only a reflection of what the world wants to see. I'm not really there." He looked down in shame as he admitted his lingering thought of his facade within the wizarding world.

The laugh that reached his ears sounded harsh and dark; it was almost like the curses had manifested themselves in Malfoy's voice. "Poor Potter, can't get anyone to see him for anything other that the Golden Boy. What a shame. You're pathetic if you think that you get to sulk around because the world doesn't see the 'true you.' In the end, you are the tool that shapes the public because you stand for what they see. When they see you depressed they think the world is ending and when you're actually acting human, the press is convinced you're pushing Voldemort back. Any other shit you want to feed me about how unfair your life is?" He leaned against the shelf next to him before slowly sinking down in exhaustion. "You don't know what unfair is." He whispered, inaudible by Harry.

Harry looked forward as the first beams of light began to break over the horizon. "Why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you be hoping that I off myself and that the public dissolves into chaos?" He turned his stare back to Malfoy as he efficiently cleaned up the mess they had made; a table was repaired from the splinters it had been in, pages reattached themselves, chairs were righted and fixed to have four legs again, and the mess he had laid in on the floor was scrubbed out of the carpet.

Malfoy stretched and walked towards the heavy doors that remained firmly closed until Pince would come in around five and force Harry to sleep for at least two hours if he remained. "Because, Potter, I know my place and I had to remind you of yours. A balance might be thrown out of control and who knows, I might have ended up good." He shuddered and fixed his smirk firmly into place before preparing to leave.

"Wait!" Harry called out and was relieved when a blond head came back. "You're a fool." He muttered softly, but the Slytherin heard him.

"How so?" He asked with eyes narrowed.

"The balance doesn't matter, not really. Don't you know that every time an evil is defeated, another comes up to take its place? There is no balance, just some power struggle and the person on top can always change. That's why it doesn't matter what happens to me. There's another Golden Boy just waiting for me to fall."

"I'm sure the wizarding world will really applaud your demise when Neville Longbottom takes over to save us all, taking out one function cauldron at a time." Harry held back a snort and slowly made his way to the hallway. By then, Draco had disappeared.

He had skipped the whole day of classes and submerged himself in his bed until three months of exhaustion had finally been overcome by sleep. He healed himself with the most powerful healing charms he knew for the general body and by dinner he looked more alive that he had the whole year. Dobby had snuck some food up to him while he was in the bathroom and he picked at it for a moment before he cleaned his sheets in his bed and climbed back in with his photo album in hand.

He flipped to the page of Sirius at his parents' wedding and watched as a tear slowly slid off his cheek and onto the tiny picture. Harry quickly wiped it away and gave a short laugh as the young Sirius attempted to clean the tear off as well with the handkerchief he had pulled out of his breast pocket. The laugh that escaped his throat quickly turned into sobs as he hugged the book tighter to his chest. For the first time he allowed himself to feel the pain, the guilt, the emptiness and the overwhelming sadness for his godfather, his classmates, his parents and himself. He cried for the childhood that was empty of all things that there should be: love, security, happiness, contentment. He cried for the life that never was, his with Sirius' and Sirius' own that was taken away too early. When he had finished, he looked around at his empty room and realized everyone was still at dinner. The food Dobby had sent up was replaced with something warmer and for the first time in months, he felt his appetite return to him.

By the time Ron and the rest of his dorm mates returned, the food was cleared away and he was asleep in bed. Later, Ron would remark that it was the most peacefully he had seen him that year.

At breakfast the next morning, he still hadn't spoken to either of his friends but only to hold the companionable silence that now filled the void where meaningless conversation had taken place. They entered the hall at a normal pace, but instead of going to the table like Ron and Hermione, he glanced over to see Malfoy looking at him with a raised eyebrow. While he should have been angry that his enemy had tortured him for the half hour the morning before, he only felt a sense of gratitude. Harry had the suspicion that both he and Malfoy knew that the end result of his downward spiral would have been worse then that period of physical discomfort. He gave a quiet nod back before taking his seat towards the middle of the table.

It was when he was half way there that a voice cut across the noise of the din and reached Harry's ears.

"Potter!" He turned to see Malfoy sneering at him from his table. The entire hall had stopped chattering to watch the exchange that hadn't occurred for weeks. "Done crying over your dead parents?"

Hermione stood, ready to tell Malfoy to knock it off, when Harry raised a hand to still her. "Fuck off, Malfoy." He spoke quickly and turned back to his seat to pretend nothing had happened. Ron sat gaping with his mouth open until Hermione nudged him while she continued to eat her meal with a secret smile. Snape strode over five minutes later and stood behind Harry with his arms crossed.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for foul language in the Great Hall." He looked relieved as he spoke the words and left to go back to the dungeons.

"So, what do you think the chances are of the Arrows beating Puddlemere this week?" Harry asked. His best friend immediately broke into statistics and was quickly joined by Seamus. It was very slow, but at least it was progress.

He didn't say much still, but he was slowly pulling his life together. Harry tore his eyes away from the dying embers in the fireplace when a pop appeared right behind him. The first syllable of the disarming charm was on his lips before he recognized the man before him as Moody who was dressed in his customary dark cloak with an auror crest on it.

"I was told by Fudge to bring you this." He held in his battered hand a crisp scroll that had the seal of the Ministry of Magic stamped on it in a dark red wax. Harry took it and ripped it open to scan the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It seems that once again you have managed to miss your meeting with the Ministry's Information Brief that was held at nine o'clock this morning. While we assume you are not out mingling with Death Eaters (You're not, are you?), we still require your presence. I have sent Auror Moody to assist you back. I have told him to be gentle but firm so please obey my request. That shall be all. Thank you, Mr. Potter.

Cornelius Fudge

Minster of Magic

Order of Merlin Third Degree

Harry laughed as he handed the letter back. Ever since Percy had supposedly left for the Dark Side, the minister had gone on a rampant Death Eater hunt in the ministry. In reality, Percy was currently spying for Dumbledore but he had been working to get into his character for the past two years. It was enough to convince Fudge to order the use of truth potions on all of the employees. Surprisingly, he had found a few dozen Death Eaters with the newly released Lucius Malfoy as an exception. For some reason, there seemed to be enough truth in his lies that he had been passed over. It was just another reminder of Fudge's incompetence. Besides the Death Eater hunts, Percy's absence meant Fudge was too scared to let anyone else have as much responsibility as Percy's job had once entitled. That meant that Fudge was writing his own letters that were so pathetic that they commanded little of the authority they possessed.

In addition to the ridiculous letters, the next act of stupidity by Fudge was to appoint an Information Brief among the aurors and the Unspeakables with Harry there as one of the few civilians. What went on during the meetings was almost comical and Harry enjoyed sitting with Dumbledore watching the verbal volley of the worst team in history. Most meetings progressed to something similar to this.

"I have heard that the Death Eaters are planning an attack on Vertic Alley." An auror would announce and all other aurors would nod their heads.

The Unspeakables would then look at each other with significant glances and the head Unspeakable would step forward and reply with, "We are not at liberty to say."

"What do you mean you can't say?"

"I can't tell you that either."

"Why not?"

"That, too, is confidential."

The auror would then throw his hands up in disbelief. "Then what good are you? Why not just eliminate the whole department if you refuse to share with us what you know?"

The Unspeakable's mouth would twitch for a moment, almost like he enjoyed taunting the aurors. "I can't tell you the answer."

"And why not?"

"I'm not at liberty to say." The auror would then storm out as Fudge sat at the head of the table and nodded his head before stroking his chin.

"Interesting." The minister would reply. "I think we've made real progress. Kingsley, look into it." He would then direct to an auror.

"Look into what sir?"

"Tell him Mosgrove." The minister would then command to the Unspeakable. Fudge abided by the philosophy that what he didn't know needed to be dictated to someone else. It happened a lot.

The Unspeakable would turn back to Kingsley and reply, "That's confidential."

"I see." The auror would nod back as if he understood just to end the meeting and Fudge would fake a look of comprehension.

"Good. I'm glad you are finally on the same page with us Kingsley. Meeting dismissed!" The gavel would be banged against wood and everyone would flood the door, eager to get back to where the world made sense.

Going to the meetings were pointless, but Fudge was indulged by Dumbledore who claimed he had nothing to do at nine o'clock on a Thursday morning. So the meetings continued and now Harry had to report to the ministry for a briefing of absolutely nothing that happened that day.

It was a full hour later when Harry stumbled out of the room that Fudge had scheduled for his briefing. How meaningless drivel could take a whole hour was beyond him, but there he was at noon on a Thursday, stumbling around the lower levels of the ministry trying to find the elevator. Instead he found a staircase. If he had been thinking like a wizard, he would have known to go up because he was underground, but instead he continued downward until he reached the last step outside a slick black door. This far down had condensation dripping from the hinges and Harry felt as if he was in a cave.

He looked up at the stairs and calculated that it was a hundred and seven floors before he was back to the main lobby. Luckily, he had been at level ninety-six when he left. Now, it suddenly occurred to him why he thought he could have traveled ninety-six floors when it obviously seemed so ridiculous. Instead he sighed and figured he'd go find an elevator on this floor.

As much as Harry felt like he was in a cave before, when he stepped in a room, it was even more evident. The walls were rough stone that looked as though they were just plowed through to create the corridor that he was walking in. Dim lights hung from the ceiling and he almost didn't spot the two people in the corridor until the light flickered in a moment of intensity.

Hoping they could direct him to an elevator, he walked over to the large man and his smaller companion. It wasn't until he was thirty feet away that he realized what was going on. Harry was thankful that the dim lights didn't give away his cover as he slowly blended into the shadows.

"Let go of me, you monstrous oaf." The voice bit out and Harry recognized it as Malfoy's. His haughty tone was broken with a small quiver from pain as he was held tight against the wall by the man's large beefy hands. They almost reminded him of Vernon's, but his uncle never touched him the way Malfoy was being handled.

"Come on you little whore. Take it just like your daddy did." He shoved Malfoy down on his knees and began to unzip his pants. With one hand he yanked the blonde's head up and even from this far away, Harry could see the fear racing in his gray eyes. The man's penis bobbed in front of his rival's face and it was then that Harry cast his spell.

"Stupefy!" The spell raced through the air with a blue streaking, hitting the guard in the side and knocking him backwards. Malfoy stared as his prone form in shock for a moment and then scurried closer to the wall as quickly as possible. Harry rushed over and looked at the other man, listening to Malfoy's retching in the background. When he turned to look at his rival he was shocked to see the face look familiarly gaunt as he had while with the Dursley's. His skin was grayish, his lips were chapped and his hair that was normally perfectly in place hung in greasy strands around his face.

"Potter." He said with a calm smile. "Why must we always see each other at our worst?"

"Because that's what rivals do." He replied as he pulled the other boy up and steadied him. They both looked down at the guard's form that took up half the hallway.

"You bastard." Malfoy said softly. "You son of a bitch." He repeated and clenched his fists. "You sick fuck." He delivered a harsh kick to his ribs before pouncing on him and smashing his face in with newly discovered strength. "You worthless piece of trash. You fucking tosser, piece of shit." Words continued to fly from his mouth and it was only when his punches grew less and less powerful that Harry pulled him off.

"Let's go." He said softly and turned Draco to leave when the blond suddenly shook his head.

"Just a moment." In a quick motion he stripped the guard of his shirt and one sock. He shoved the sock in his mouth and tied the shirt around to hold it tight. Next he ripped off his pants and yanked down the yellowish underwear to reveal a massive butt that Harry had to laugh at. Draco stripped the belt off his pants and bound his hands behind his back. "Give me the nightstick." Harry handed it over, and it didn't occur to him what was going to be done to it until the second before.

"Malfoy, maybe you should-" He faintly heard the squish of muscles giving away and turned in the other direction. When he looked back, the nightstick was at least ten inches in and Draco was proudly admiring his handy work.

"You want to fuck something? Fuck your own arse with this!" He raised a foot, ready to kick more in, but Harry grabbed him by the waist and hauled him away.

"I think that's enough." Draco tore at him, but finally slumped in Harry's arms and nodded. It was then that Harry noticed a silver collar that was resting on the blonde's neck. "What is that?" He asked and Draco slowly felt where Harry's hand was touching.

"Almost forgot." He reached back into the guard's pants and pulled a rod on a key chain out that slowly morphed as Draco spoke. "924." He said and the rod morphed into a key and he unhooked the collar and placed it on the guard, but pocketed the key.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as Draco led him down a corridor.

"Never mind. We have to get…" He trailed off as voices shot down the corridor. Harry found the door he had came from and shoved them both in it. "Fuck! Now we'll never get out." He panted as he ran up the stairs. Malfoy was fading fast and all that energy that he used on the guard had disappeared.

"Well, they'd never stop me." Harry said calmly.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Would you like to rub it in my face even more that your situation is better than my current one?"

Harry paused. "I do smell nicer."

"Just wait until I have another nightstick." He muttered.

"What I was saying was that I won't be stopped if I leave. So if I transfigure you into a small animal…"

"We can escape." The blond said triumphantly. "Maybe a snake."

"Or a ferret." Harry said as he twirled his wand. Looking at his scowl he laughed. "Just kidding." He shot off the first transfiguration spell he could think of and smiled as he picked up a little white Malfoy bunny that he quickly stuck in the inner pocket of his robe.

When he arrived back at Grimmauld Place, he reversed the transformation and was met with an angry Malfoy.

"A bunny, Potter? What the hell's wrong with you? Did you lead a deprived childhood?"

"First off, Malfoy, I have the wand, I helped you escape and I get to make the rules."

"What rules?"

"This is my home at the moment so you can't go running to Voldemort to tell him where I live."

The Slytherin looked around. "The Black Ancestral Manor?" Harry nodded. "Fine, Potter, I'll keep your little secret, but I…I…" He swayed a bit and Harry caught him before he hit the floor in his faint.

"Let's get you to bed."

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A/N: If you liked it or hated it, please review. I probably won't be updating as frequently as I originally planned because my characterization is a bit off for Draco later on so I'll be working on that a bit before I update again. Thanks for reading!