Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and I am not making any money off of this. Don't sue, I'm poor. I also haven't read book five or six and don't care that I haven't!

A.U. and Mpreg d-DM/s-HP. Guess what the extra d and s stand for.

Author note: I've never written a story this long so I'm taking my time with it. Sorry if it bugs you but so far this is the best I can do. Also I know there are errors, I'll find them later and maybe I'll fix them. Read at your own risk.

"Win At Any Cost"

By GreyPenInk

Part 7

As Harry made his way to the closet he noticed some thing was off. 'Bullocks, I'll figure it out later.' He thought. It was not a surprise to him that the closet was a walk in however he was shocked at the clothes in it. 'Brilliant, bloomin' brilliant…. It's all clothes I would never wear!' Every shred of material in the room was designer this and posh fashion that; not a pair of blue jeans or plain t-shirt in sight. Mentally he groaned and set about to find the simplest items in the ridiculously fancy closet.

Having achieved his goal he brought them back to the bed and dumped them on to it. Promptly he pulled off his shirt and the instant he saw his own bare chest his world crashed down at his feet.

The numbness that had been with him and apparently brought back with him had shattered. Trembling hands ran over tan chest before shaking arms flexed and fingers delicately inspected thin wrists.

Suddenly knees turned to jelly and he fell on to the bed. Instinct took over, curling the quivering body into the fetal position. Erratic breaths heaved in and out of panicked lungs but his mind was elsewhere.

Oh merciful mother of Merlin! He could still feel it, still feel him! All the places Warren had hurt throbbed with pain. His ears rang with the deep sound of the beast's laugh and he couldn't get the picture of bloodlust from his mind's eye. The sting of tears bit at his eyes, the pressure of a scream swelled inside his tummy and a surge of power raged in his franticly beating heart; it was only the latter two that were released.

The blonde youngest Malfoy was thrown forward by the doors being blown open from his wife's power. His face saved only by the contract that kept it from colliding with his own bedroom doors. 'Sweet Circe, was he going to do that on a daily routine! How much power does he have?' He wondered. 'I suppose the shock wore off.'

Draco was not the only Malfoy to take note of his wife's power display. They could feel of the flux in magical energies, just like the last time Harry had lost it. The elder male was torn between scowling and smirking. 'The boy is powerful, he will fit nicely into my plan however it maybe wise to move him to the dungeon less he does further damage to my home!'

Other thoughts were halted when his own half dressed wife put her hand on his arm to call his attention. One glance into pastel blue eyes and he knew she wanted to go check on them. "Draco is well. The contract will protect him and as for Potter, his fate matters not."

"Luv," her voice was hesitant, "if your Son-in Law should find away to hurt himself severely, in his changed area, you shall not have our heir and our Draco will be forever bound to him."

Two sets of grey eyes went wide in the same instant and glazed at their respective wife; the elder's eyes from what his wife said while the youth's eyes from the sight of his wife.

Draco slowly worked up the courage to walk over to Harry. He knew he would not be hurt but the red mist and navy lightning bolts the ex-Gryffindor was giving off were intimidating. Very carefully he went to his spouse; avoided the spots and furniture were the lightning had burnt.

Distantly The-Boy-Who-Lived could tell that his body was trembling all over yet his emotions consumed him. He just felt too violated! He had been touched and hurt without his consent. Damnit he'd been fucking rape! And he'd been helpless to stop it! As much hate as he felt for Warren he hated himself so much more. He had been so Goddamn weak! He felt so much like he was nothing but a doll, a mindless, soulless plaything.

Oh and the sensation of Warren on his body was growing more intense. Merlin! He could feel the monster's cock inside him. That proved to be the last straw for him and nausea came up, overwhelming him. Forcing control over his body, he scanned the room and went charging into the bathroom that he had appearently blown the door off of.

Draco blinked slowly, one moment he was a less than three feet away from his crazied wife then in the next moment his spouse was running to the lavatory. At least his screaming and magic output had stopped. However his ears soon were filled with another sound; a highly disgusting sound.

Harsh grey eyes had just finished glaring soft baby blues into submission when they both felt the suddenly magical level drop to near nothing. Dread swamped her veins and Narcissa made to bolt but Lucius was a second too fast for her. He had her now, crushed to his incompletely dressed body; with arms wrapped around, one hand digging manicured nails into her shoulder and the other into her waist.

"Lucius," she carefully kept her discomfort from the pain her husband caused out of her voice, "please let me go to them, let me check on them. Lucius Please."

A more painful grip was her only answer. "Luv, please let me go to them, let me check on them. Luv Please." Slowly she tilted her head back and to the side, on to his shoulder while exposing her neck.

"You have already been once to check on Potter during one of his tantrums and I demanded nothing of you for it. Now for your second visit I will require something in return and you know exactly what it would be."

Mentally she shuddered yet the blonde haired woman agreed nonetheless without hesitation. The nanosecond her spouse's hands were off her she gracefully and beautifully bolted from the room.

Young grey eyes watched his brunet wife's body as it jerked and twitched above the porcelain thrown. His spouse was vomiting; he supposed he was going to have to get used to that but it still puzzled him. This was too strong a reaction to the book. Snatching it from the bed he flipped to the correct page and felt ice run down his spine. On the page, were only one hair should have been, there were two hairs; his and Harry's. That met Harry had actually experienced what William went through with Warren. If it had only been the ONE hair his wife would have only watched the scene from afar.

The ice spread from his spine to the rest of his body. He had made a grave miscalculation, he had thought Harry was intelligent enough to use William's Diary unsupervised. Apparently he was wrong. Still this was his fault, his mistake, his planning that fell through. Where he was supposed to manipulate, influence and scare his wife into not prolonging their consummation so it would be safer for Harry, he had now done very thing would worsen their situation.

Looking back at his dry heaving wife he felt lost. Surely now with the trauma Harry would need comfort, comfort which he had no idea how to supply, also with the brunet's shock gone his face would not be one that would be welcomed at the moment if ever.

As if to answer his prayers his mother, in little more than her undergarments and an elegant dress slip, was there at the door. Naturally she was on him in a second, inspecting and checking to see that he was alright. Assured that her son was fine she, she looked for her son-in-law. Immediately seeing the younger boy hunched over the toilet, she turned back to her Precious, asking questions with her eyes.

Not wanting Harry to hear him he merely showed her the book with the two hairs, blonde and black, still on the page.

Narcissa bit back her initial gasp and heated words for her son. They would help nothing now. Instead she calmly said; "I will fix this. All will be fine, but I would like to speak will you once this situation has passed."

He nodded. Draco knew it was not truly a request, and that what ever she would say would not be pleasant for his ear nor esteem, but right now he only felt relief.

Wandlessly she summoned two small bottles from her secret cabinet and slipped into the bathroom. Plucking two towels from the wall, wetting one in the sink, she sat down next Harry. Silently she cast a small spell to slightly heat the temperature of her skin, and put out her hand to his head, letting hover just above him. "Harry… Harry… Harry…" she called repeatedly with excruciating gentleness, in increasing volume as she lowered her hand on his head. He flinched only minimally when her hand landed, unconsciously having felt the heat from her skin already so close.

Lady Malfoy continued softly calling his name as she first stroked his hair, then his entire back. She watched until she saw a tiny piece of Harry had come back to himself. Gently she pushed him back from the bowl and tilted his head up. The boy stopped heaving yet he was still so far gone he let her ring some of the water from the towel into his mouth. The blue-eyed woman then brought his head down a again caught rinsed water in the dry towel. It wasn't until after she had stuck a corner of the towel in his mouth to clean his tongue that he came back a bit more. Tenderly she used the rest of the towel to clean his face and neck.

Cleaning done and Harry slowing returning she poured one of the bottles into him then brought him to her body. Rest his head in the crook of her shoulder, she pulled him into her lap and cradled him. She felt the coldness of his flesh and knew he could feel her heat enwrap him, yet decided it was not enough. Softly and calmly she pet him, his back, arms, face, neck and front as she whispered words of comfort to him.

She felt him come back more as the potion took effect and changed the violent memories in his mind to what they should have been. Second by second the feelings and sensations from his encounter with Warren became distant and unfamiliar. Moment by moment Draco's image was being replaced with the actual Warren Buckfields' image and William's features were substituting for his. Instant by instant the whole experience was changing into a third party perspective instead of an up close run in. More and more Harry was returning to his normal self.

And what he came back to was warmth surrounding him, supple touches caressing him, caring words washing over him and the feeling of a woman holding him, specifically like a mother would hold her child. A damn in him that he never knew was there broke inside him releasing a soul deep craving for a mother. It was a baby's craving, a child's craving, an adolescent's craving for mother's love.

Without thinking about it he threw his arms around her and cried. Cried because of the violent images in his mind that promised much pain to come. He cried for himself and the situation he was in. Cried because of the frustration he felt. Yet mainly he cried because he had felt cared for by a mother, and it felt so good it hurt. It hurt to be reminded of what he majority of the time he went without, unlike Ron, Hermione and Draco.

Said husband's eyes widened a fraction at the sight. Not comprehending what was going on in his spouse's mind or recognizing the his mothers potions, he assumed the experience was too much for Harry to deal with. For the first time in a long time he felt guilt. Not just anger at himself for his masterful manipulation completely failing to make his life easier, but actual guilt for hurting his wife.

That idea stuck with him. He the person that by tradition who was supposed to protect his wife, and his wife him vice versa, had done the complete opposite. Not knowing what to do he decide to go to breakfast and try to cool the fury his father was bound to be in. It would not be pleasant, but it would better in the long run if Lucius were to feel a little less vicious towards them.

Feeling more than seeing her son leave, she was tempted to say something to him or at least look at him, but she dare not take her attention away from the Boy-Who-Lived. She continued to comfort him and say sweet words to him but reframed for saying the few words she knew he needed to hear. Harry wanted a mother, even if he would never admit it, never say the words, she knew in her instinct as a mother she knew. Yet she did not know if she could be that mother for him. She only called him Harry, sweet child or Cherished, but not my child, my son, or little one as she had with Draco. She laid no claim on this boy, the male still child, though her heartstrings and compassion urged her to. She simply did not want to give false hope, give a promise she was not sure she could keep. She was Draco's mother first, last and always, she would support her son even if it cost her helping this boy.

There was also the matter of Lucius, who was sure to be in a rage by now. She would have to do more than change in front of him from now on instead of in the privacy of her closet as she had agreed to this morning. If she hurried and brought the brunet down to breakfast now tonight she would probably only have to have sex with her husband twice. She checked the boy again; he was in no state to be rushed let alone face Lucius. Mentally she sighed, she would probably take a beating for it but she decided not to take Harry down to dine this morning.

The ex-Gryffindor being fairly close to fully there she pushed for him to take a few drops from her other bottle. The memories once so fresh in his mind now dulled some as the potion took effect. If she would have given him more the entire experience would have been erased, but she did see her son's point. A little fear would encourage Harry not to wait before it was too late, too violent and this would make it easier for Draco to bed him.

The tan skinned boy came back too himself fully and found himself to be crushed in an embrace to Narcissa Malfoy. He looked into her face; care, concern and hope shown clearly there. Before he could say anything his stomach interrupted him and a sweet smile stretch out over her lips.

"I believe breakfast is called for. Would you disagree to having it here in your room with only the two of us?"

He only nodded.

"Well then let us do so."

Mean while, in the dinning hall Draco was not fairing as well with the other elder. Yet one sentence sealed the situation going from bad to worse.

"Son, do remind me to kill your wife once the five years are over. He is quite bother some."

All the nerves in the younger male's body froze, yet he still said; "Of course, Father."

TBC

Sorry for the wait.