I unfortunately don't own the world of Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling does.

Just a quick thanks to Iheartpercyjackson353, Allen Pitt, kim13796, TheEscapeFromReality, translucent steeds, xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, meandthedoctor, DreamUnicorn247, Invisia, High Reacher, feminist4ever, slytheringirl22, hungergamespettalover, and Daciana Rose.

Now on with the story! :)

Chapter 73:

Discovering the Pain

One week into their Easter break, Draco decided to pay his servant a visit. Having finally reached the top of the final staircase, he looked around hurriedly. Catching his breath, he made his way down the narrow hall towards his servant's room. How she made the journey to and from here several times a day he would never know.

Sighing, he paused, balancing the stack of books and food on one hand and knocked with the other. But when there was no response, he grew concerned. Opening the door, he glanced around the small room. His eyes finally landed on her – she was standing by her bed, back to him, and had clearly just returned from taking a shower; her hair was damp and she was only half dressed. But Draco just looked on, shocked – so much so that he let what he was holding drop, letting it shatter to the ground.

"What in Merlin's name happened to you?" he asked rhetorically. Ariella immediately spun around to find him gaping at her. Her eyes widened, and she quickly spun around again, trying to cover herself up, causing her mark to pulse and burn as she hid from her master.

Draco quickly strode over to where she was bent over the cot, shaking, clutching the thin sheet to her body. Standing over her, his eyes traced her body and he felt sick. Her entire back was covered with scars and welts.

"What happened to you?" he asked, this time wanting an answer. But she just shook her head rapidly.

"I – I can't tell you," she replied, quite obviously fighting the urge to weep. Draco stared at her once more, comprehension coming to him.

"Did my father do this to you?" he inquired, nervous of the answer he would receive.

"Yes," she answered, scared of what he would do.

Immediately Draco reacted. He backed up, heading for the door, his expression hard.

"Draco, please…don't tell anyone. It'll only make things worse." She begged, falling to her knees upon the floor. But he just shook his head.

"I'm telling my mother," he said firmly.

"Please, can't you just forget about it?" she pleaded still.

"FORGET ABOUT IT!" Draco roared, causing her to cringe and shrink away.

"I can't just forget that I saw that! No, I'm telling, end of discussion." He said, turning to leave. But her voice, small, almost weak, stopped him.

"Sir…sir, please," she begged, tears now freely falling down her face. He stared at her – never had she called him "sir" of her own free will. (The only time she had was upon his father's orders – something both of the teens had detested.) She was supposed to of course, but for one reason or another, it had always been just "Draco." So for her to call him sir – it meant that she really didn't want anyone to know…which was why he had to tell someone. Shaking his head, he left a broken Ariella on the floor. She turned, and, burying her face in the small, thin sheet, tried not to imagine how much trouble she was about to be in.

A little while later, she jolted out of her stupor to someone's hand upon her shoulder, shaking her gently, telling her quietly to wake up. She heard a gasp and her eyes flew open. Turning slightly, she saw that both Narcissa and Draco were present.

"Draco, heal her the best you can. It would seem that I need to have a word with your father," she said, her commanding voice sharp and cold.

"But Mother – "

"No buts, Draco," his mother said, cutting him off. Her son held the sharp gaze before nodding.

"Good," Narcissa declared, finalizing the deal before striding out of the room.

Sighing, Draco took out his wand and advanced on Ariella.

"Episky!" he shouted, pointing his wand at her back. She gasped as the spell hit her.

Slowly, the scars started to fade where the spell had hit. But the minute they finally disappeared, something else began to happen by itself – the scars were being re-cut and Ariella screamed; it was as if a knife were cutting deep within her skin.

When it finally ended, Ariella was hunched over, panting, trying to steady herself.

"I think they're cursed," she said in between staggered breaths. Draco just nodded, staying exactly where he was for the moment, trying to decide what he could do. But, looking on, he knew that he had to do something.

Going over to Ariella, he helped her to sit on the "bed".

"Do you trust me?" he asked. She turned her head to face him, but didn't meet his eye.

"I – I guess so," she replied uncertainly. Summoning a pail of water and some clean washcloths, Draco gently positioned her tense and shaking body so that she was facing him – for in that moment when she had turned to face him, surprised, he had noticed that she bore a scar across her chest. And by the looks of it, she had acquired this particular mark somewhat recently.

Sighing, he went to sit upon the cot – and immediately sprang back up again. It was hard and extremely uncomfortable. She slept on this?

"Here," Ariella said suddenly, handing him a torn sweatshirt. Wincing, Draco sat down upon the cot again, the sweatshirt helping to cushion the spot a bit.

As Draco took the piece of clothing, he noticed that her left lower arm was still bandaged…as it had been for almost a year now. However, he knew not to question her about it. He also noticed that her hand was bandaged up once more. Later, once they had dealt with the more serious injuries, he would take a look at her hand. She had detention often enough that by now there would be a difference.

The young master tried to keep his eyes off of the mark that defined her as their servant…when he noticed it was pulsing, burning almost. Then he realized why: she had tried to cover up, tried to hide her body from him – a perfectly normal reaction – that she was now being punished for. He put his hand to her arm, whispering pardon for the deed.

Dunking the first cloth in the water, he brought it up but, at the last minute, paused – he was slightly afraid of how she would react to being touched by him, even if it was in order to help her.

"May I?" he asked, the words feeling strange upon his lips. She nodded and looked away, her cheeks burning from shame and embarrassment as she lowered the thin sheet she held in front of her, allowing it to puddle around her waist. As the cloth made contact with her skin, she flinched, but said nothing. Draco worked silently and when he finished as best he could treating her chest, she turned so that her back was now facing him. And he found that he couldn't help it; he grimaced at the sight of it. It was purely disgusting and he felt repulsed by the sight. Taking a deep breath, he wet a new cloth and touched it to her skin.

"You don't have to do this you know," she said quietly, moving her hair out of his way.

"My mother told me to. I'm not going to disobey her," he replied, pressing the wet washcloth to the newest cuts first – the ones he had caused only minutes earlier.

"But you don't have to," she pressed on. Immediately, Draco saw was she was getting at. She was right. He didn't have to help her. But that wasn't going to stop him…especially not since this was partly his fault.

"Why are you so against anyone helping you?" he asked.

"I – I'm not – "

"Don't even try to deny it, Ariella," he interrupted sharply, something he regretted almost at once, for she turned and shrank away from him.

"I'm afraid of being hurt even more," she whispered, afraid of what his response would be to her confession.

"Be – besides. You're not really supposed to be catering to my needs. I – I'm your servant."

"Yes, and I understand why I shouldn't cater to your needs according to the bond. Yet is it pushing for punishment for my care and treatment of you?"

"N – no, not yet," she replied.

"Let me know if it does and I'll take care of it. After all, isn't it technically my job to make sure you are well?"

His servant just stayed silent, not quite knowing how to respond to his answer.

"Ariella, how long has my father been tormenting you?" he inquired after a moment of silence.

"Which way?" she questioned back.

"How long as this been going on?" he clarified, quite obviously referring to the beatings while he tried to figure out what other ways she would have been tortured.

"Summer after second year." Draco's expression hardened.

"What else?" he demanded to know.

"The Cru – " she started to say, but stopped as she hissed in pain, grabbing her arm, and Draco realized that she couldn't tell him what Lucius had done to her directly, but she could confirm it.

"Has he used the Cruciatus Curse on you?" he asked next, noticing that she had started to say something along the lines of it, not to mention she had stood up to him earlier that year against it.

"Yes, numerous times," she answered.

"Since when?"

"Summer after first year," she replied.

"Is that it?" he inquired…he needed to know just how bad it really was for her.

"No…there's one more thing you've forgotten," she said.

"Can you tell me?" he wanted to know. She shook her head.

"Not directly. But Draco…your father got someone like me purposely," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked, pressing the cloth to her skin once more, causing her to wince.

"I'm a girl for a reason, Draco. Think about what Avery wanted," she explained, looking down at her lap, humiliated. As Draco realized what she meant, he paled.

"Has he…?" but he couldn't even bring himself to finish the question.

"No. but he's threatened to many times," she clarified, lowering her head, the picture of defeat. But Draco sighed with relief – she was untouched. But the fact that his father wanted that from her was repulsive.

"I'm surprised that you didn't get that one on your own," she muttered.

"What? Why would I have thought – "

"Draco, please. You're a teenage guy. And I've heard the rumours. Are you really going to tell me you've never thought about that?" she said, disdain in her voice.

"Not with you, no," he replied quietly, his task now abandoned. But that would explain why she looked so scared while I was touching her, even if it was with a cloth.

"Oh…sorry," she said, her voice dull.

"Did you really think that I would do something like that to you? That I would force you into anything painful and humiliating, on my own terms, let alone that?"

Ariella was silent for a moment before replying.

"Overall, no – especially not lately. But there have been moments when I thought you were going to hurt me…badly. You just – you looked so much like your father…"

"I've seen it – there would be times where you would look scared of me. Of me! I never wanted you to hate me," she said, affirming what she said and believed.

"I know," she whispered softly. The two stayed in silence for a moment, before Draco got up, grimacing, wondering not for the first time how she had survived for all these years.

"Get dressed and then try to get some sleep," he ordered, straightening out his shirt.

"What? Draco, – " she started to protest, but her mark began to burn. But she decided to ignore it. Clutching her upper arm in pain, she continued.

"Draco, if I don't follow orders, your father won't be happy. You – "

But she found she couldn't continue – the pain too great. Draco, who hadn't quite realized how serious it was until now, removed her hand from her arm and placed his upon it instead. Immediately, the pain increased, but Draco just tightened his grip, not letting her pull away from his touch.

"At your leisure within the hour, obey the previous orders," he said, his voice hard. Ariella felt the pain starting to subside. A moment later, she nodded, and Draco removed his hand – both were glad that it had worked. He realized then that his previous order about contradicting him didn't apply while they were at the Manor, just as he had specified. Not to mention she had just tried to contradict a direct order.

"Now…what was it that you were going to say?" he inquired of her. Ariella looked down as she replied.

"You know now why I'm so scared of disobeying your father – it only makes things worse. If I were to follow your orders, it would anger him. But I – but I also know that you…that you can – "

"That I can what? Ariella, tell me!" he demanded when she shook her head.

"That you can punish me any way you want as well." Draco just stared at her before putting two fingers under her chin and tilted it upward so that her brown eyes met his grey ones.

"Why would I punish you? I just said I don't want you to hate me, so why would I do something to hurt you, especially that severely?"

"Because it's within your rights," she replied, her voice faint.

"Go on," Draco said, crossing his arms, leaning back against the wall, intrigued.

"So long as you don't kill me directly, the owning family can treat their servant however they like. In that way, I guess I'm lucky," she said.

"LUCKY!" he exclaimed incredulously. "Have you looked at yourself lately? You've been beaten and tortured innumerable times. You're thin from lack of food. You live up here, in a space not even worth using for storage. Your bed is a rickety old cot and you wear clothes that probably fit you back in first year. Hell, look at the main reason you're here…you're a slave! And you're saying you're lucky?" Draco finished his rant, breathing hard, staring at her, both amazement and scorn in his eyes and expression.

"Yes. Because it could and should have been much worse. The beatings each time could have been more brutal, the Cruciatus held longer. Your father could have taken me before, but he hasn't yet – I'm still innocent, in that respect at least. I'm lucky because I have my own room, because I can go to school. I have a wand, even if I can't use it while here. But most of all, I'm lucky because of you." She finished quietly, her voice lowering in volume throughout the whole thing.

"Me? What have I done?" Draco asked, surprised at her response.

"You could have been so cruel to me. You emulate your father quite a lot. But instead of treating me the way your father does, you took interest in me, tried to find out what was really going on. You've tried to help me. I can't tell you how grateful I am for that. Your mother, she could have been a cruel mistress, but she's not. So yes Draco, I'm lucky."

She finished her explanation and he turned away from her. She took the opportunity to grab an old shirt and pull it on, glad to finally be fully covered again…without having to hold up [the sheet] to do so. However, this caused her mark to begin the burning pulse again. Draco's brow furrowed, and he turned to see what was wrong this time. His eyes widened as he realized she was in trouble just for putting on a shirt. Once again, he put his hand on her mark, pardoning her.

"Draco, please don't make me miss my work." Her master just sighed, trying to figure out what to do. Standing up straight and turning around so he couldn't meet her eye, he spoke.

"Wash up, get dressed, and come downstairs to my room. Previous orders are cancelled." He ordered and before she could protest further, he left. Sighing, Ariella did as she was told.

However, on her way down to Draco's room, she ran into a complication…a complication by the name of Lucius Malfoy.

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Thanks to all who are reading and enjoying this story. If you have any suggestions, (i.e. would like to see something happen, etc.) questions, or comments, please feel free to private message me. Thanks! ~ Leanora