Disclaimer: None of it belongs to me, I'm simply pretending there is some conceivable way I could ever write half as well as JK Rowling and using her world in the process.

Chapter 7:Freeing the Dead

It was her screams, which brought him into her room, once again. He had been pacing by her door for hours before he heard, once again, the blood curdling scream that brought him running tumultuously into her room, his hair even wilder then usual, the door smashing against the wall, so hard had he slammed it open in his haste.

Had the door been of muggle decent, a crack would no doubt live as part of it forevermore.

However, there are advantages to being a wizard and shatterproof doors in hospital rooms just happens to be one of those precautions taken. Therefore, Harry neither knew nor cared of these factors as he raced to his wife's bedside, drinking in her appearance.

She lay on the bed, thrashing; her bed sheets tangled once again around her. Her entire body shook vehemently as she lay there gasping, tears leaking out of her eyes. And suddenly, no more than an instant later, her eyes flew open and she screamed, once again.

"NOO!" she cried! Tears gushed from the corners of her eyes and splattered like rain down her front, her hair stood wildly on end, as if an electric plug had sent shockwaves through her mane of brown tangles. She shot up, her body rigid in fear, in confusion as she took in her surroundings.

Harry was at her side in an instant. "What, Hermione," he questioned, not sure what he meant to ask her. "Hermione, it's okay, I'm here," he soothed. Relaxing against his firm chest, she allowed her body to melt into his arms, her sobs erratic now as they drenched Harry's shirt.

Two words could be heard emanating from her muffled voice as she whispered them over and over again: "No… Draco, no… no, Draco, no…" the words strangely hushed by the sobs coercing their way out of her throat; as if being pulled by a string… a never ending string. And then, another word floated from her lips in a soft, helpless voice: "help," and she spoke no more.

0000

"I NEED A HEALER IN HERE, NOW!" Harry screamed. Hermione's head lay draped across his lap, her neck twisted at a rather odd angle as she lay there, her breathing coming in short spurts, her eyelids twitching madly.

And then, he heard her mutter, while still seemingly asleep, "Draco… help."

Tears were hammering against Harry's cornea, desperate to get out. But Harry kept them at bay. Screwing up his face in pain induced from her present state, he choked out, "Okay. Okay, Hermione, if that's what you truly want, I'll get him for you." And he stood up.

A healer burst into the room, spotted Hermione's state of disarray, and asked, aghast, "What happened?"

"I… she screamed and I… I… I have to go," he muttered, backing out of the room.

"Hold on there, young man," the witch commanded, waving her wand in the air as the door slammed shut in Harry's face. "No one goes anywhere until you tell me EXACTLY what she said."

Harry groaned, pushing his glasses up off the bridge of his nose as he rubbed his eyes. "I, she said… well, she kept whispering actually, 'No, Draco, no…' over and over again. This, well, she said this after screaming. She… I think she might have been dreaming again, I don' t know. Ever since her attack, she's been having these nightmares more often."

The healer looked at him, puzzled for a second. "Who, or what, is Draco?"

Harry looked up at her and stared her directly in the eye as he whispered, "The man she loves," before turning around, grasping the handle of the door, and yanking it open. Pausing briefly at the door, he said, "Help her in any way you can. I'm… going to find him."

And with that, he left the room, leaving a very confused healer in his wake.

0000

For the second time in his life, Harry found his feet pummeling into the soft ground surrounding the building he knew to contain Draco. Walking toward it, his wand held aloft, he started toward the threatening stockade before him. Pacing off the distance to the cracked corner, Harry stopped, hearing a voice in the distance.

Well, a howl actually.

Confused, Harry continued onward, his pace quickening as he neared his destination. He could hear the scream clearer as he drew nearer, the voice dripping in agony, fear, and pain. Jogging the final distance, Harry reached the corner of the wall and, as he reached out for a stick on the ground, heard a last, guttural moan before all sounds ceased.

Silence ensued. Not a sound could be heard, not a blue jay cawing in breadth, not a voice booming in the distance. Nothing.

And then he heard a cackle. Harry listened, his ear pressed firmly to the wall as a laugh echoed around the still chamber. But, the laugh did not sound as if it belonged to the youngest Malfoy, no. This laugh sounded - there was no other way to put it – evil. And while Harry loathed Draco with more contempt then most people would give him credit for possessing, his heart told him that this laugh could not belong to someone his wife loved more then her own life.

Therefore, the only option left was that someone – Lucius? – had found their way into the chamber Harry knew held Draco prisoner. Footsteps echoed around the room following a loud thump crashing to the floor. Taking a deep breath, Harry picked up a stick off the ground and, shoving it between the gap, pushed as hard as humanely possible to the side, pulling the wall further and further away from its counterpart.

Creaks and groans drugged the silence as he moved the wall further and further, hoping against hope that Lucius had already left the room and could not hear this new reverberation taking place. Sweat dripped lazily into Harry's brow as he worked, clouding his vision as it dripped into his eyes until, finally, the wall had been moved far enough to create a doorway into the chamber.

Harry ran. No thought entered his mind other then pure animalistic instinct. Someone was in trouble in there, his wife loved that person, and he needed to become The Chosen One once again. So he ran through the gap, smacking his shoulder into the wall leaving a thick gash in its wake, until he reached the cause of the thump he had previously heard.

Draco's body was lying on the ground, unmoving.

The bonds previously accompanying his wrists still clung to the corpse beneath his feet, but only half of the chain remained attached to his wrist. The other half proved to be hanging from the ceiling with a simple glance upward. Kneeling to the ground, his hands shaking slightly at the sight before him, one thought echoed through his mind.

Oh god, oh Merlin, oh Saints in Heaven… this is all my fault.

Draco's face was pressed haphazardly to the cold ground. His chest did not rise and fall with each breath he took, but rather sat there, drenched in something akin to sweat and blood, unmoving. His legs, still clad in black pants, twisted around one another as they stuck out at a rather odd angle, his feet twisted in directions only acrobats could dream of. Blood lay oozing from his lip, a puddle of murky blood pooled all over the floor beneath his head. The once perfect, silky blond hair lay dank and defeated, red streaks marring its once ideal elegance. Before Harry rested a broken man… a man all would believe to be dead.

And, for all intents and purposes, he was. He could not move, could not breath, could not talk and would never perform any of these actions again unless he was kissed by his one true love.

Unless he's kissed by Hermione, Harry thought savagely.

Harry allowed his hand to snake out and grasp one of Draco's pant legs before pulling it back and revealing the pale flesh beneath. Or, what should have been pale skin. After the months - possibly years - this man had spent within this room the skin beneath should have been as white as snow. But one look proved this assumption false.

It was much worse than that.

His entire leg looked to be tinged blue, black lines running up toward his pelvis. The skin once sleek and covered in fine blond hairs now lay shriveled and ugly. Harry pulled the black material over his leg once more, not sure of how much longer he'd be able to scrutinize this pitiful sight. Instead, he untangled Draco's legs and rolled him onto his back for a second before pulling him into a sitting position.

Draco's head lolled foreword, the eyes within open and rolling backward within his head. Grimacing, Harry pulled Draco onto his shoulder, one hand grasped over his legs, the other just above his waist, and heaved them both up so that Harry stood, his head refusing to be anywhere near the putrid body, his legs shaking with grief and strain.

Okay, Harry thought. I've just got to get out of this building and to the edge of the forest. From there I can apperate home and use magic to carry him.

Reasonable thought had long fled Harry's mind, for if he'd been thinking clearly, he would have realized that magic could indeed be performed where he stood; it was the only explanation for Draco's present state. Perhaps he would have been able to execute his plan had he used magic instead of force to levitate Draco's body from the malicious room in which he stood captive. But, being in the state of mind he was, he didn't and therefore found a hindrance to his plans waiting behind him.

Really, he was lucky he had managed to find no opposing forces before that point.

Just as Harry reached the opening, a dull clapping noise began to echo around the room. Harry stopped, refusing to turn around. He waited for the voice to accompany and was rewarded immediately.

"Bravo, bravo indeed, Potter. Once again, the "Chosen One" is out to save them all. But," the voice faltered, "why save him? He's done nothing but beseech you from the day you met him in first year." The voice sneered after pausing a moment more as it put particular emphasis on the next statement. "How is your wife?"

That was it. Someone knew much more than they should and had managed to put two and two together much faster than Harry would have liked. Spinning around, he turned to face Lucius Malfoy who stood, blocking the door, his wand pointed directly at Harry's chest.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to leave this room, not with my son, anyway. And most certainly not with the knowledge of his well-being… or lack thereof. Dear, dear… he is a pitiful sight isn't he?"

Harry's chest heaved as he listened to the man before him. "He's your son, you sick bastard. How could you do this to your own son," Harry spat.

"I'm still a little confused as to why you care," Lucius interrupted. "After all, he's been your arch nemesis for most of your life, stolen everything you've ever had and for what, this?" He laughed, a harsh ringing laughter.

"I think you know a little more then you're letting on, Malfoy," Harry responded coldly.

"Oh, alright. But how hard do you think it was, really, for me to put two and two together. How could I not know that my son had fallen in love with the very person I've trained him all his life to loath? He didn't exactly hide it, you see." Another smirk curled around his lips as he watched Harry weakening under his son's weight.

"Considering," Harry panted, "that the rest of the wizarding world is oblivious to their love, I think you may be mistaken."

Lucius smiled. "And I have you to thank for that, my boy. Had you not married the filthy mudblood the world would know of his love for her. Which, of course, could only serve to further destroy the Malfoy name."

"Don't," Harry whispered, staggering under the weight. "Don't you dare call her that."

"Hmm," Lucius pondered, pretending to take his words to heart. "That's rather odd, you see I thought I was the one with a wand, and you the one with a corpse over your shoulder." He laughed. "Funny you should be trying to give me instructions, Potter."

" 'Corpse' is a word used to describe a dead body, Malfoy. I do believe Draco fails to meet that requirement," Harry retorted.

Lucius smirked at him. "In denial, are we Potter? Seen too many dead bodies to believe another person could die at your mercy?"

"He told me about the vow, Malfoy. He told me he would 'die' in a week and it's been a week. He told me he would actually just be under a 'fairy-tale' sleep. He's not dead." But inside, Harry's intestines were knotting. He couldn't be dead, not now. Lucius didn't know how right he was. If Draco were dead it would be all his fault. His head felt strangely light and a bile taste mingled inside of his mouth with the sweat and saliva natural to its environment.

"Well," Lucius concluded. "Whether or not he is dead remains to be seen. The point is you will not be leaving this building with knowledge of his present condition. I could simply modify your memory, but memory charms can be broken." He smiled at Harry whose legs were currently quaking from standing still for this long. "I was going to kill the mudblood bitch first, but I guess you'll have to do for now. But don't worry," he smiled a cold, heartless smile. "They will all die. She'll be next, then Ron, then the rest of the Order and so on and so forth until the snow of London turns red with the blood of the city."

"What is it with you Dark Lords. You'd think they'd get a clue after their predecessor dies from the very thing they're attempting to do," Harry spat sarcastically.

"Enough. Why don't you put down that body and face me like a man before you die. You'll be with your filthy parents soon; it's what you want anyway, isn't it? If Hermione were to get her hands on Draco and find out the counter spell, you'd be cast aside." He watched as Harry's face faltered in hatred. "You know its true, Potter. Just forget about him, he's not worth your time, you should have left him here."

"So you admit that he's not dead. You admit there's a counter spell," Harry derived.

"Oh alright! There's a counter spell. Of course there is, how stupid do you think my son is, anyway?" Lucius spat.

"What is it?" Harry shouted, alarmingly acute for his present condition. "What's the spell Malfoy?"

"Come now Harry," Lucius smiled maliciously, not at all put off by his screaming fit. "Do you really think I'm going to tell you?"

Harry stared daggers at him and knelt down, keeping his eyes on Lucius the entire time. Carefully, he dropped Draco with a soft thud to the steel floor and stood once more. Staring at Lucius for a second more, he quickly whipped out his wand and trained it on Lucius' heart. Lucius' wand, for its part, had long since been waving around dramatically to emphasize his words and no longer directed itself at Harry's heart.

"Are you going to kill me, Harry?" Lucius asked doubtfully. "Come, then. Give it your best shot. I daresay you've more power than you did as a child, but let's see if you can't kill me on your first try. I'll even give you a free shot." He spread his arms wide, welcoming whatever form of pain Harry shot at him.

"Tell me what I need to know, Malfoy," Harry spat threateningly. Slowly, ever so slowly, he allowed his feet to move backward once more, toward the opening behind him.

"Do you really think that after all this time your threats hold any more merit then they did in your fifth year?" He barked a bark of cold laughter. "Save your breath."

Harry opened his mouth to retort but closed it quickly, turning and running instead toward the exit. If he could only duck behind the wall, he could levitate Draco's body through the hole to follow him…

"CRUCIO," Lucius cried. Harry was brought to his knees instantly. He screamed such was the pain overtaking his every limb. Needles lodged their way under his skin as they shoved themselves as deep as they could possibly go. Sweat dripped down his neck, drenching his robes. His legs shook as if still trying to run but finding it difficult in his present condition.

And then, it stopped.

Harry lay on the ground panting. His breath was ragged as he gulped lungful after lungful of the icy air surrounding him. Lucius stood above him, one heel pressed into his back, the other just to his side. "Running, now, are we?" He ground his heel into Harry's ribs. A loud crack echoed in Harry's ears as Lucius' foot snapped a rib in two. "You should have stayed, Potter. We were having such fun."

Harry panted, the pain blinding his vision. Black smog lined the corners of his eyes, threatening to overtake him as the pain throbbed in his head. Blood dripped savagely out of his nostril, overtaking his senses with the coppery smell. His back ached with a pain akin to none he could think of. Grated, his mind wasn't thinking very clearly in his present condition, but the pain seemed endless all the same. Hands shaking, he brought his wand arm as high as he could raise it behind him before yelling, "Expelliarmus!" in a loud, crisp voice.

The foot removed itself from his back, leaving Harry free to roll over onto his side before sitting up. His back ached as if someone were hammering it with a sledgehammer, over and over again. Lucius stood feet away, thrown of balance by the spell as he successfully ducked away from its target.

"Imper-" Lucius began, but was cut off by Harry's yell of, "Expelliarmus," once more. This time the spell hit Lucius squarely in the chest. The wand flew out of Lucius' arm, landing near Draco's feet. Harry dove sideways, trying to reach the wand before Lucius could reach it but was dampened by the throb in his back, the blood from his rib seeping through his clothing as it's sharp point stuck through Harry's skin.

Lucius, too, had dived for the wand and managed to reach it before Harry. "Stupify!" Harry yelled, the spell bouncing off the wall behind Lucius, once again throwing Lucius off balance.

"Avada Kedavra!" Lucius roared, the green light shooting inches away from Harry's arm.

Harry rolled sideways, one hand now trained on Draco, the other on Lucius' heart. "Sectumsempra!" he cried, but the spell feebly melted away into nothingness as Harry's eyes quivered from fatigue. The blackness behind his eyes had spread further now, prodding at his iris as if trying to bust down a door. A crack broke through the glass of Harry's glasses and a steady stream of blood dripped from his nose.

Shaking his head in a last desperate attempt to keep his head before dying at Lucius' mercy, he stared Lucius straight in the eyes before shouting, "Stupify!" with all remaining strength he possessed. Red sparks shot like a rocket from the tip of his wand a crashed directly into Lucius' chest.

A yell of surprise accompanied the heavy bang as Lucius fell backward; his eyes open in surprise, his body lax into the ground. Not particularly interested in the outcome of his nemesis, he shook his head once more, whispered "levicorpus", and crawled from the room through the hole.

The sight for any muggle or wizard would have been quite a nightmare to say the least. The body of a once handsome man, bloodied from abuse, crawling from a haunted looking building with another body just as broken floating directly behind him would be quite a site to behold. As it happened, both men managed to reach the edge of the forest, Harry would never remember how, and Harry apperated them both away.

The truly ironic part, though, was that Harry had just endured torture and anguishes for someone who would very soon become the person he hated more than any other.


A/N: Well, I don't know about you but I am SO glad he's finally out of there! I mean, enough is really enough! By the way, I am so, so, so, so, SO extremely sorry for my lack of updates. My internet's been down and I've been deciding on AP classes for next year along with more schoolwork to get into those AP classes and, on top of that, two performances going at one time! Something had to give and I'm sorry it had to be this, but I've been trying to write lately and promise on quicker updates in the future. So, read and review and I'll update asap!

Yours,

PhoenixTearsCG