T is for Traitor
AN: X.x I'm so tired! I'm doing this at 3:30 in the morning listening to Glee because it won't let me sleep! You guys better be grateful D: Jk, I'm just a bit cranky I don't really mean that, I'm bitchy when I'm tired :p This one's very dark and triggers easily probably. But it has a happy ending! I swear!...somewhat happy...
Prequal to I for Impersonate
Rating: M for despritive torture, descriptive rape, mentioned rape, hopelessness, Draco's mouth saying bad words, and Voldemort's noseless face.
Draco's head was down, his eyes closed, and his breathing deep. Whether he was asleep or not was unsure, he was always somewhat conscious and always aware of his surroundings now. He had long since lost all feeling in his arms as they hung from the ceiling of his dank, dark cell. There was absolutely no sound, no light, nothing. Draco's senses were all out of balance, his mind constantly playing tricks with him. He had no idea how long he'd been here or how much longer he would be kept alive. The Dark Lord's patience was wearing thin, his persistance becoming more aggressive. Not towards Draco, no. He hadn't lifted a finger to Draco hadn't touched him in any way except to grab his chin to look him in the eye. No the one the Dark Lord was hurting was Draco's beloved, the one person he cared for above all others, even his mother.
Draco jumped, eyes snapping open as the door to his cell opened and heavy footsteps were heard entering the room slowly. "Hello Draco." A voice hissed and Draco felt a cold tendril of fear go down his spine, but he refused to show it. "Tell me Draco, have you considered the offer more?" Voldemort asked, but Draco remained silent as the footsteps stopped. Draco knew he was standing right in front of him, he could smell his putrid breath. "Come now Draco, this can't last much longer. Not for you, and most certainly not for H-!"
"Don't you DARE say his name you filthy fucking mudblood!"
Draco stiffened, practically feeling the anger pouring off Voldemort in waves. "I'm sure that's worth at least forty lashings. Front and back each." Voldemort growled and Draco clenched his jaw, determined. "He can take it. We'll never give up, not to you." Draco growled and Voldemort chuckled. "Are you so certain about that Malfoy?" Voldemort whispered into his ear. Draco felt the tell-tale grip on his jaw and steeled himself. "Legilimens." Voldemort pratically purred and Draco was dropped into another time and place of Voldemort's memory. A young boy lie on the ground in front of him. He was curled in the fetal position, his black hair around his shoulders as if trying to act like a shroud. His body was paled from lack of sunlight and covered with bruises and abrasions. He was nothing but skin and bones, arms twiggy, stomach slightly sunken, ribs visible; he was practically a skeleton. Despite all of this, he was still the most gorgeous thing Draco had ever laid eyes on. He watched as Voldemort walked over to Harry and kneeled down. For the first time in a long time the two were alone in the room, no Death Eaters in sight. Instead of comforting him however, this made Draco feel even more worried.
In a mockery of affection, Voldemort pushed locks of ebony hair away from the boy's face before leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Harry . . . wake up Harry. It's time to play." Voldemort said gently, chuckling as Harry whimpered in his sleep, curling up even more. "Harry wake up, or I'll make you." Voldemort still spoke softly, though Draco knew he could in a heart beat. Finally he got impatient and stood, grabbing a handful of Harry's hair and yanking him up. Harry shrieked in pain, eyes snapping open and hands flying to the one clutching his ahir so ruthlessly. Voldemort walked to a large, metal table in the middle of the room dragging Harry by his hair before slamming him down on it harshly. Instantly binds flew out and snagged Harry's arms and legs, holding them down, immobilising him. "You should have learned by now Harry, I'm very impatient. I hate to be kept waiting." Voldemort's voice was still gentle as he circled the table to stand at Harry's head to look down at him. "I'm sorry." Harry whimpered, cringing slightly. Voldemort hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose only a small punishment is necessary." He said, drawing his wand.
Teasingly he trailed the piece of wood down Harry's body, stopping just below his navel. Harry screamed, back arching as the tip glowed red and heat emanated from the wand. The sickening smell of burnt flesh filled Draco's nostrils as Voldemort dug the wand deeper into the skin. Finally Voldemort drew the wand away, tears cascading down Harry's face. The burn was about a dime in length and diameter, not too big. "There, that wasn't so bad was it Harry?" Voldemort asked and Harry shook his head. Voldemort reached down and dug his right index finger into the wound. "What was that Harry?" He asked loudly over the screams. "No! No, it wasn't that bad!" Harry shrieked and Voldemort pulled back. "Good boy." Voldemort muttered, petting Harry like some kind of wild animal he had tamed. Which, Draco guessed, he was in a sense. "Now then Harry, I'm going to give you a choice today." Voldemort explained as Harry stared at him, almost blindly. Voldemort continued petting him, the movements offering a false sense of comfort.
"Since your pretty little traitor Draco continues to be stubborn, you will be given ten lashes across the stomach either way. But would you rather be blinded or have your mouth froze open today?" Harry released a shuddering breath. Draco knew both choices were terrifying. On one hand, having his mouth forced to stay open would give Voldemort a little bit more control, more freedom to do as he wished with Harry's body. On the other, he wouldn't be able to see anything Voldemort was doing blinded. "I . . . blinded." Harry whispered and Voldemort smiled indulgently, pointing his wand. "Caecus*." Harry gasped and Draco knew everything had gone dark. He could only imagine the pure terror Harry was feeling at that moment. He saw Voldemort walk soundlessly towards Harry's feet, shedding his robes. He climbed onto the metal, placing his hands on Harry's ankles. Harry jumped and bit down on his lip to stifle a scream.
Sliding up Harry's body, Voldemort's hands slowly trailed up Harry's legs, thighs, hips, stomach, chest, up to his neck. Voldemort grasped the thin neck tightly and Harry's mouth gaped, trying desperately to bring in air. Voldemort on until Harry almost completely stopped struggling then let go, allowing Harry to gasp lungfuls of air desperately, sobbing quietly. "I'm going to whip you now Harry." Vodemort said, summoning a cat-o-nine-tails. Draco desperately wanted to cry out, to warn Harry. This was no normal whip, it had metal tips on all the ends that were laced with pain potion Draco knew. "Yes." Harry whispered and Voldemort smirked before bringing the whip down cruelly. "One!" Harry screamed, back arching as Voldemort laughed. Harry counted all ten lashings, crying hysterically the entire time. Finally, Voldemort placed the whip down and stroked Harry's arms. "Shh, now Harry. It's over now my little jade." Draco grit his teeth at Voldemort's pet name for Harry; he'd been using it for weeks (months? He had no idea how long it had been) now.
Once Harry had calmed himself a bit, Voldemort lifted his hips slightly. Harry whined pitifully, shaking his head as Voldemort caressed his hips. "Now Harry, you know how it goes. Now take it like a good boy, and maybe I'll remove the blinding spell before I leave." Harry stopped his minute struggling and Voldemort kissed his thigh. "Good." He whispered, then slammed his way into the boy. He set a fast, brutal pace while Harry sobbed and begged quietly for him to stop, to go away. Finally Voldemort was finished and he climbed off Harry and the table, walking around to his head again. Caressing his face, Voldemort spoke softly. "Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived; helpless and bound in front of me, begging so pretilly." Voldemort suddenly grabbed Harry's face viciously, digging his nails in to his cheeks. Harry arched his back but no sounds were heard from. "You are nothing boy. Just a figure-head for a world at war with itself, in itself. You never had any power to defeat me, not even close. Isn't that right?" He asked, but Harry remained stubbornly silent. "Isn't it?" Voldemort hissed, digging his nails in deeper. "Yes! It's true, I never had that sort of power!" Harry cried, and Voldemort released him. "For that rebellion, I will leave the blinding spell in place until next time. Think on what you've done Harry." Voldemort whispered as he put his robes on again.
As Voldemort left the room, the images stopped and they were back in Draco's room. Draco felt the tears falling silently down his face. "You sick, twisted bastard!" Draco hissed menacingly. "Twenty lashes more Draco. Care to make it forty for an even one-hundred lashes front and back? I'm sure Harry will scream so beautifully taking your punishment." More then ever Draco wanted to lash out, to throw insults in his face but held his tongue. He wasn't entirely sure that Harry was survive that many lashes in his condition. "Now Draco, I have a proposition for you." Voldemort whispered and Draco sneered but stayed resolutely silent. Voldemort leaned in until his mouth was right next to Draco's ear. "If you join the ranks of my Death Eaters . . . I'll let both you and Harry live." Draco stiffened, eyes widening slightly in surprise. "You'll have to share him of course. He'd be my consort, bear my heir, be more mine then yours. But he'd be alive, and he'd have the chance to start his own family. Maybe I'll even permit to carry an heir for you. But only if you join me. Think on it Draco, which is better; Harry living his days as a consort with children to care for, no more running, no more life-threatening adventures and permitted to see you any time you so wish? Or dying alone, cold, starving, and tortured somewhere his cries will never reach you?" With that final thought, Voldemort turned on his heel and briskly left the room.
Draco's eyes opened slowly at the sound of the door opening and banging into the wall. It couldn't have been that long since Voldemort had left, but it didn't matter. As hard as it was, Draco knew he would join Voldemort. Harry might not be happy, Merlin knew, but it was all for Harry. While bearing Voldemort an heir was not high on Harry's wishlist, it would be better for them this way. Draco couldn't bear the thought of losing Harry, of his Harry dying alone in that horrible room. and no matter who the father, Harry would love those children unconditionally. However, the choice was taken from him a few seconds later. "Malfoy? Is that Malfoy?" A voice whispered nearby and Draco's head snapped up, eyes wide in disbelief. Before him stood one figure with bright red hair and one with bushy brown hair. Granger and Weasley were standing in his cell, right in front of him. And further behind was the tall, imperious figure Severus Snape who quickly strode forward with potions in hand. "Draco, drink this. It'll repair any nerve damage in your arms." Severus muttered quickly, holding the vial to Draco's lips. Without question, Draco tipped his head back and downed the potion. Instantly he hissed in discomfort as feeling returned to his arms before Granger managed to spell him down.
Without waiting for anyone to say a word, Draco was off like a snitch. He skidded around corners and down hallways he had memorized from the repeated times he'd seen them in memories before stopping in front of a familiar steel door. Throwing the door open, Draco dully noted that no one else was in the room before he hurried to Harry's decimated form, still lying restrained on the table. Swiping black hair from his face, Draco felt a burst of pure raw magic travel through him to the binds on Harry's body and to his eyes, canceling the blinding spell. "Draco . . ." Harry whispered, remaining perfectly still. "Hi Harry. Come on, baby we're getting out of here." Draco whispered urgently, throwing his robe off and revealing the muggle clothing that had been underneath before wrapping Harry in the robe as gently as he could. Harry touched Draco's cheek softly. "Is it really you? You're real this time?" He asked and Draco's jaw tightened as he fought back tears when he realized what Harry was asking. He distinctly remembered one memory of Voldemort walking in to Harry holding a whispered conversation with an imaginary Draco.
"Yes, it's me Harry. The Order is here, we're escaping. You'll never have to go this again, ever." Draco swore, holding the small body close to his, turning to the door. Snape, Granger, and Weasley stood in the frame, watching the two of them contemplatively. Their relationship had not been public information to anyone, so this was a surprising view. Harry wound his arms around Draco's neck and buried his face in Draco's neck, sighing deeply. "Okay Draco, I trust you." Harry mumbled, his lips moving against Draco's neck softly. Draco didn't respond but for the first time in he didn't know how long, a warmth spread through him. It didn't matter in that moment that they would spend months waking in a dead sleep, sitting up in bed screaming. It didn't matter that Harry would have issues with physical contact for years. It didn't matter that the scars would always be there, would always be a reminder of the time they spent being tortured by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. At that second in time, the only thing that mattered to Draco was Harry's safety and the sheer wonder and disbelief that Harry still trusted him.