Herein you may find some disturbing content about our poor Draco, but a revelation that will help to explain his character here a bit more, I hope. Please do let me know what you think.

As always,

Merick

Chapter Thirty-Five

I can't say I've never meant to hurt anyone because that wouldn't be true; there've been quite a few people I've wanted to hurt over the years, and quite a few times I've uttered unforgiveable curses with the full intent of having them work. I'm not perfect I can admit that. But what I can say, with absolute certainty is that I have never meant to hurt anyone I cared for. Which hasn't stopped it happening unfortunately.

My mind driven by emotion and desire and euphoria that night made me desperate to touch him and be close to him and I let myself go too far, even though I hadn't meant to. Standing behind him I didn't think I was being so physical as to cause him to fear me, so when I slid my hands down his back and heard him sigh just under his breath I believed I was okay; I wanted to believe that it gave him some measure of peace when I touched him there, because the scars didn't bother me and he would know it by my actions.

Fueled by my desire of him I brought my arms around to his front, pulling his body into mine, fingertips undoing the fastings of his trousers, hands slipping down his sides, kneading against the smooth skin there, guiding my hips towards his, and then I felt him tense. No, more than that, I felt him freeze, I felt the ropes of muscle just under the surface tighten and I felt him stop breathing. The laughter stopped, the easy passion stopped, and I stopped, frozen as he was, wondering what I had done wrong, and why I could feel him trembling against my chest.

I spun him in my arms, desperate to look into his eyes and see what they could tell me but he kept them cast down, even as I kissed his forehead, trying to comfort him from whatever transgression it was that I had wrought.

"Dragon?" I whispered it, wanting the word to break the spell. He could not answer me then.

"What have I done?"

"Nothing." His voice was small and weak and the trembling had not abated.

"I didn't want to do anything to hurt you," I began to plead with him, wanting to understand, "I just wanted to make you feel as I did, before, with you. I just wanted you to know that amazing feeling." My voice sounded terribly fragile and desperate, a wholly different desperation than that of just a few minutes past seeped into my body.

"It isn't you." Oh, I hate that line, have always hated it, have never seen any truth or good come of it because it's either a lie, or a submission.

I placed my hands on his face, brushed my fingers over his lips to quiet him before he could finish the sentence and kissed him gently, afraid to push too hard. I then let my hands wander down his chest and I felt him steal breath from me, and join in my kiss and I felt the comfort in his skin at my touch, the way he yielded to me because it felt good. I slid down to kneel before him, wanting to show him how much I - Okay I can't write that here, not yet, because I didn't know it then and I need to be faithful to the chronology as much as I can. That moment of realization came a little later. It didn't matter then anyways because the horrified, choked 'no' that came from his lips as he sank down beside me took it all away.

"No, not like this, never on your knees before me." The words came tumbling out of his mouth, hardly making any sense in the jumble and the tears. "Not like this, we are the same, not on your knees, we are equals. It can't be like this."

I could do nothing but hold him then, the both of us on the floor, him shivering in my arms, and kiss him softly on the head as I fought back my own tears, which threatened to overflow. It became so clear to me in that moment.

Narcissa Malfoy was not the only person in that house who had been raped by Voldemort.

There were sleepless nights after that, horrible, heartbreaking visions that came from an imagination I wanted desperately to blind. During the day I could focus my thoughts away from the images, throw myself into working or studying or practicing on my broom, but at night, as I drew the curtains around my bed all I could do was try to muffle the tears I cried for him; and make sure that by morning there was no trace of them.

You see I couldn't tell him I knew. I didn't have the words to ask him or the strength to open the wounds for him. I gave him the opportunity to talk, but he did not take it; I don't know that he had the words or the strength either. And I did not want him to suspect that I had figured it out, I did not want him to believe that this, his most terrible secret, was a secret no longer. I spoke to no one. There was no one to approach. Draco had been right when he had called Hogwarts a microcosm; how could I annonymize that secret? To even begin the conversation would betray him, and there were no father confessors to speak to who were detached and bound to silence, at least none that I had even encountered in the Wizarding world. I didn't even know whom I would speak to in the Muggle world. If I'd had any clue about who I could seek counsel from regarding abuse I wouldn't have spent so many years living in a closet under the stairs. But to say that the way a comported myself around him had remained the same would be a lie. I was frightened to even touch him, and for weeks I was only the best friend I could be to him, offering him a shoulder, and a hand, but never taking an unbidden kiss or embrace. He had to have known, but I think he convinced himself to appreciate my lies. It gave him time.

I made sleeping draughts, just as effective as Hermione's, in Potions class, and used them when I could not quiet my mind, and so that no one would notice that I was suffering. I know, it sounds awful to write about my trials with the information when it had been Draco who had to live with the reality of it, but I suffered for him, never the less.

Hermione found me, dragging myself down the stairs to the hallway in front of our tower. I'll note that I've jumped ahead in time a few weeks here and that we're into the month of November now; most of that silent time is a blur anyways, the days kind of all rolled together into a procession of sleeping, waking, studying, repeat.

"You missed breakfast." She informed me though I was quite aware of it.

"Kreacher brought me a coffee and a roll." She clucked at me a little bit, and though I normally would have dismissed it, by sleep-deprived brain was feeling like I should defend myself.

"He's not my slave Hermione, he's my friend, and he looks out for me; and you know full well that I intend to employ him properly once we get back to 12 G, and that I've already bought him his own furniture, and set up his own room at the house." At least my tone didn't end up being as sharp as my words, one blessing of insomnia.

"I know Harry, sorry, I'm just feeling a little anxious. Draco got a letter at breakfast and I'm worried."

A number of questions sprang to my mind. One; why was Hermione watching Draco at breakfast? Two, why was she worried about him getting a letter? And Three, why did she think she needed to tell me about it? She answered them all; bless her efficiency without me even having to ask them out loud.

"The owl that flew in to drop it off was the biggest thing I've ever seen Harry, nobody could ignore it, even the professors stared at it. And when it landed in front of Draco holding out a parchment to him in its massive claw he looked just mortified. The owl must have come from a great distance away to have needed to be so strong to just carry a letter." The assessment seemed reasonable, smaller owls could certainly fly between local points, larger ones between cities, but to fly from another country, the carrier would have to be large and formidable. And that meant that Draco's letter had likely come from another country, and likely from his mother I guessed. She continued.

"As soon as he looked at it he jammed it into his pocket and left. He didn't even take his book bag with him. She held it up, me being so oblivious I hadn't even noticed she was carrying two. That answered the second question. But why did she come to find me?

"I don't know what kind of relationship you and Draco have," she began, "and I don't need to know. But it's obvious that he is important to you, and I thought you'd want to know."

Damn smart girl my Hermione.

"Let's go to Potions class, maybe he'll be there?"

He wasn't.

Once Hermione and I were in the classroom and saw that Draco wasn't there it was too late to leave again and go searching. Genevieve noticed his absence as well and questioned both Pansy and I about Draco's whereabouts, but neither of us had an answer for her. She muttered something in French, which I didn't understand and taught the class anyways, looking decidedly less jovial and moving less fluidly than she normally did. She always did look like she was dancing when she moved. I couldn't get away from that room fast enough when class was over. I had about ten minutes till Astronomy started and I used it to race back to the dorms, Hermione in pursuit, to fetch the Marauder's Map and locate him. I jammed it in my bag and ran for the Astronomy tower. Without my even asking, Hermione continued to follow me and I felt grateful for that, somehow it made my self-imposed burden seem just a little lighter. I did, however, leave her behind a little as I took the tower steps, hoping that when I got to the classroom he would be there, but again he was not. Professor Sinistra noticed my agitation, but only mimicked the worry on my face when Hermione joined me in the classroom doorway.

"What's happened?" She whispered to both of us as she came over.

"Draco's gone." Hermione offered in her succinct manner.

"What do you mean gone?"

"I don't know that he's left the castle or anything ma'am, just that no one's seen him since breakfast."

"That damned letter." She hissed under her breath, and then looked at me.

"Can you find him?" She asked. I nodded. She turned back to the few assembled students in the room and announced that something had come up and that she was cancelling class for the day. She conjured a note for the door at the bottom of the stairs and handed in to one of the Ravenclaws to post for her, then closed the classroom door behind them.

"Do it."

I unrolled the map on Professor Sinistra's desk, not caring that I was confiding the secret of its existence with her. She didn't seem to care either. I cast the spell to bring it to life and focused in on finding Draco. Thankfully he hadn't wandered into some unplottable place and after a few minutes of peering over it Hermione spotted him, up in the Owlery. Damn, why did he always choose bloody towers?

It didn't take the three of us long to get there, especially as the hallways were lightly travelled due to second period being in session for most all of the students by then. It also didn't hurt that we were following a professor in our haste, though we did cause a few anxious glances as we passed. It could not have been a good sight, Hermione and I running anywhere. It was Professor Sinistra's wand that flung open the door, scattering owls every which way. I was focused on finding Draco, and had the wingardium leviosa spell on my lips in case he decided to do something foolish.

He was sitting on one of the benches that lined the room, magically kept clear of owl detritus for their keepers and students to use. He had a quill in one hand and a sheet of paper and inkpot in front of him and his face was wet with tears. He didn't even look startled to see us, even though Hermione was now there in our little group. He just looked lost and miserable.

"Draco." There was no way to stop the relief I suddenly felt at finding him, and it didn't even matter that we weren't alone when I rushed over to him pulling him into my chest.

"I have a sister now." He told us, in a monotone voice that sounded practically dead but for the sobs that punctuated it instead of breaths. "I've been trying to write something back to my mother," another sob, "but I don't know what to say."

"Oh Draco." I just held onto him, I knew the ladies were staring at the both of us, but I didn't care. He pushed the crumpled letter into my hand. It said virtually nothing and seemed so cold when I read it. Narcissa had only bothered to tell him the name of the child, Delphinia, and that she was healthy, while Narcissa herself was somewhat weakened by a difficult birth. She repeated that she was staying with family, and that Draco shouldn't try to find them because, and here was the only part that even began to sound like Narcissa cared for him at all, because she didn't want to bring him any further heartache and nightmares from having to look into the child's eyes. Just reading it made me shudder, and I hated Narcissa Malfoy even more because her words made it quite obvious that she knew exactly what had happened to her son at the hands of this child's father; knew and had done nothing to stop it.

"Give me the quill Draco." I held out my hand, he gave it over without a word. I began to write. Not exactly what was in my mind right then, but what was in my soul, and I was glad to have been able to differentiate those two shades just then or that evil side would have been well expressed.

'Thank you for sending me your letter Mother.' I began. 'Though you may not believe me, I am glad that you have written to tell me that you have been safely delivered of my sister. And I am glad that you have family to offer you comfort at this time. No matter the circumstances of her being please try to give her a chance, and give her compassion and love, for she is just an innocent child. One day I hope that we will meet again, and until then I remain, Draco, your son.'

I handed the paper back to him, he read it, clamped his teeth together and nodded at me. I took it back, bound it to the leg of the great owl and bid him return to his mistress whomever that might be. His great wingspan filled the arched window as he dove forward into a fall, and then caught the updraft to soar into the sky. I did not watch him disappear.

Draco looked at Hermione and Professor Sinistra with his reddened face, and beautiful pained eyes.

"Does she know?" He asked.

"No." Aurora Sinistra replied.

"Tell her please." Then he buried himself back into my shoulder and held me.

I know Hermione must have had so many questions after witnessing what she did, and hearing the truth of Delphinia Malfoy, or was she to be Riddle, or something else? I didn't know right then. Not withstanding those questions, she gave both of us the time we needed, and never asked anything of us unless we offered it first. And Draco had another ally in her.