Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Author: Totchi
Title: Stolen
Pairing: HP/DM
Rating: Mature
Summary: Draco Malfoy has been kidnapped and a ransom letter was left in the possession of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry Potter has been called in to investigate and bring Draco back, but something about this kidnapping is not what it seems.
Author's Notes: It took me forever to update! I'm so sorry, I hope everyone will forgive me with this extra-long chapter! After this chapter, there will be one more (final) to go and maybe an epilogue. Thank you for sticking with me for so long! Hope you enjoy the ride.
oooOooo
Sweat was glistening on the pale body as eyelashes fluttered against flushed skin. A breathless sigh fell from swollen lips, parted and looking abused as if they were viciously attacked by another person's mouth. As the eyelashes moved once more, grey eyes found their mark, gaze so intense that it seemed he was trying to stare right through someone's soul.
Harry swallowed heavily, unable to look away from the form lying on the bed before him, watching as the other man's intense gaze altered, changing into a look of sheer want. When the other man made another sound, this one closer to a moan, Harry quickly looked to his face, noting that the grey eyes were now hidden behind eyelashes.
He felt frozen in place, unable to do nothing more than just stare at the figure in the bed, a bed that looked suspiciously like his bed.
"Harry…" Harry's insides jumped as he heard the figure on the bed whisper something that sounded suspiciously like his name.
Harry could feel his feet slowly moving when he wasn't even sure he wanted to get any closer to the bed, but something inside compelled him to get a better look. Suddenly finding himself standing at the head of the bed and staring down at the body lying there, he stood frozen as the grey eyes that have haunted his thoughts for the past few days stared straight at him. A cold hand brushed against his fingers before moving to caress his wrist.
"Malfoy?" his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, as quiet as the other man when he spoke. "What are you doing here?"
Harry watched as the blond's eyes slowly closed and the hand left his wrist. It suddenly seemed as though Malfoy's demeanor changed from the wanton behavior of before to… resignation and defeat. When the blond opened his eyes again, gone was the smoldering gaze, replaced with pain and apprehension.
"Save me," Malfoy begged, hand reaching out once more. "Save me, Harry!"
"Harry!"
"Harry! Wake up!"
Harry jerked back, the sound of something shattering on the floor mingling with his heavy breathing. With wide eyes, he quickly looked around and recognized that he was sitting in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place and that Hermione was standing right beside him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Harry, are you ok?" she asked with a surprised look on her face, looking as startled as Harry was feeling himself.
Swallowing thickly, he nodded his head, glancing to the side to notice that he must've knocked his coffee mug to the floor when he woke up. Grabbing his wand, he quickly spelled the mug back together and back onto the table.
"Sorry Hermione," he apologized, looking back to his friend. "I guess you just really startled me."
Hermione's lips pressed together in a thin line as she looked at Harry. Absentmindedly, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to pat it down. He knew he must've looked like a mess. Right after work, he went home and continued to study everything he had on the case. He figured that since it was a Friday, he could work and be uninterrupted for the entire weekend. However, it seemed that he didn't adequately account for exhaustion and lack of sleep…
"You look terrible, Harry," his friend sighed, moving to sit across from him. "I came in and was calling your name for the past five minutes. You looked like you were dead."
Harry groaned softly as he rubbed his eyes and straightened his glasses.
"I feel like I've just woken up from the dead," he admitted. "At least you woke me up, I was having the strangest dream…"
As soon as he mentioned the dream that he just had, he felt as though a bucket of ice water fell on top of his head. Sitting up straight, his eyes widened and he stared at his friend in horror. Hermione gasped and moved to stand before Harry quickly got a hold of himself and waved Hermione to stay seated.
"It's okay," he coughed lightly, shaking his head. "It was just… a very crazy dream. I think I've been working too hard."
Hermione gave him an unreadable glance before getting up from the table and moving around the kitchen, and the familiar sound of someone brewing tea reached Harry's ears.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked from the kitchen sink, glancing back at her friend.
"Not really," Harry found himself chuckling despite himself. "It was rather disturbing to me… I suppose I've just been concentrating too much on Malfoy and his case."
"So it was about Malfoy?" Hermione prodded innocently, though Harry knew her well enough that it was anything but innocent. She was interested in knowing what he had dreamed about.
Harry watched as Hermione made her way back over with two cups of tea and a plate of sandwiches that he had no idea from where she got. When she sat back down, he gave her a faint smile.
"Definitely was about Malfoy," she answered her own question, raising the cup to her lips.
He grabbed one of the sandwiches and took a liberal bite before she could ask any more questions. He then proceeded to chew very slowly so that she'd get the hint. Hermione wrinkled her nose at his behavior before taking another sip of her tea.
"I guess you don't want to talk about it," she continued, staring at him. "But since you haven't gotten up and walked away, I still have a chance of getting it out of you."
She put her cup down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Harry took another quick bite of the sandwich as he tried to figure out what she was going to ask next.
"Were you dreaming that you weren't able to save him?" she asked next, staring at her friend with a frown on her face. "Oh Harry, I hope you weren't. You've been doing the best that you can in these circumstances…"
Harry had sipped on his tea by then and had to put it down quickly or else he would've choked on the liquid trying to reassure his friend that the dream was definitely not of that nature.
"No, Hermione!" he shook his head vigorously, a few coughs escaping as he cleared his throat. "It wasn't like that at all. It was… it was… Interesting."
His gaze averted to his mug and he could feel his face burn a little in embarrassment. He definitely did not need his best friends knowing about him having inappropriate dreams about the victim of the case he was working on, and especially if it was none other than Draco Malfoy. And he knew that if Hermione got wind of it, soon enough, Ron would be bearing down his office door at work, demanding to know why he would have lustful thoughts of the same person who tormented them during their adolescent years at Hogwarts.
Hermione cleared her throat and watched as Harry's eyes raised back up to meet hers. Seeing the embarrassed look on his face, she couldn't help but shake her head.
"Oh Harry," she sighed, not knowing if it'd be appropriate at the moment to laugh. "You don't have to be embarrassed. You've been thinking about him nonstop since the case started… It would be completely natural to-"
Harry quickly cut her off, incredulous, "Natural? You think it's natural for me to be dreaming about a man that has been kidnapped and is currently at the mercy of a perverted madman? Hermione, I thought I was going crazy from having dreams about him, but now I think you're the one that's gone crazy!"
Before Hermione could comment, he continued, "And of all people, it's Malfoy, no less!"
"You seem to really be focusing on the fact that it's Draco Malfoy," Hermione pointed out, tracing the rim of her mug with a finger. "It's really the main thing that you've been obsessing over with this case."
"How can I not, Hermione?" Harry asked loudly, moving to tug at his hair, a habit that he wasn't too proud of. "This case is crazy enough as it is, and I've been seeing all these different pictures of him that the kidnapper keeps on sending to me, and now I've started thinking about how attractive he is, I'm barely keeping my wits together!"
He suddenly realized that he might have been talking just a little bit too loudly in the small kitchen, but that surprise didn't hold a candle against the realization that he just confessed to finding the Malfoy heir attractive. And to his best friend, no less. Sighing loudly, he hung his head and closed his eyes. A migraine was growing and he had been hoping that the beginning of his weekend would've started a lot better than this.
He felt Hermione's hands reach across the table to hold his and he sagged a little, letting his weariness show in the comfort of his friend's presence.
"Just don't worry about that right now," she comforted softly, patting his hand. "All of that can be worried about later. Right now, it's your duty to solve his case and find him as soon as possible."
Harry shook his head, his weariness growing.
"I know Hermione," he agreed softly. "I know."
oooOooo
Draco pulled at the ropes that bound his arms to the chair, watching as the ropes stretched out before magically pulling his arms back down. He knew that it would be useless to try to use brute force to pull himself away from this chair, but it didn't stop him from trying. And if he didn't work off some of his frustration somehow, he would become completely useless in trying to escape. Sighing softly, he turned his head around the room that he found himself in, glad that his kidnapper had disappeared and that he wasn't under the influence of any potions. However, he knew that his time was limited and soon enough his kidnapper would come back and force-feed him some other nefarious liquid.
Wincing as the ropes dug into the sensitive flesh of his left forearm, he paused to look more critically around the room he was in. It was a kitchen, but it was so incredibly barren that it was barely recognizable as the room it was supposed to be. Though there wasn't any dust that he could find, the space definitely did not look lived in. In fact, in all the rooms that he could recall being in, he was sure that everything was very minimalistic. He also knew that it seemed to be a one-story house, though he could never see outside the windows, as they had been charmed to let no light inside.
A creak outside of the room made him pause and listen intently, trying to determine if his captor had indeed come back. When he didn't hear anything more, he resumed his analysis of the area around him. He couldn't see any traces of his wand, though he honestly couldn't remember the last time he even had his wand in his hand. Feeling a little desperate, he pushed his feet against the ground in an attempt to shift his chair around so he could get a better look of his surroundings. The chair legs screeched against the hardwood floors as his chair toppled and he winced, holding his breath to see if the chair would fall over. Luck was finally on his side as his chair regained its balance and he found himself facing the opposite side of the room, which held a doorway leading out to Merlin-knows-where and a large table against the wall that Draco hadn't noticed earlier. Squinting at the table in the dim lighting, he tried to distinguish the objects that were scattered everywhere. In the entire room, that area surrounding the table seemed quite opposite of everything else in the house. It seemed disorganized, with papers littering all sides and a few cauldrons and various potion bottles scattered around. Draco couldn't really determine what exactly the madman was trying to brew, but he could see some organic materials scattered around.
Jerking in an attempt to move closer to the table, he caught sight of something glowing in one of the cauldrons. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, he gave one more jerk to the chair and came to the conclusion that it was a rather sizeable Moonstone. He knew that there were various uses for a Moonstone, but with someone spewing off crazy words to him and telling him that he was going to fall in love with a madman, it wasn't hard for Draco to put two and two together. Gritting his teeth in anger, he looked to see what other things were littered on the table, in case he ever got the chance to escape and had to try to purge himself of the love potions that he was sure would be coming his way sometime soon.
The sound of a door opening and footsteps coming into the hall made Draco stop all together. Bradley was back and Draco was still stuck to this chair. Feeling frustrated enough to scream, he grunted softly and instead tried to jerk his chair around into its original position. It seemed that luck wasn't on his side this time around, and he felt everything slow down as his chair rotated and then leaned too heavily to the left. Bracing himself, he let out a pained noise as his chair impacted with the floor and his whole body was jolted. Soon after the sound of his crash, the sound of quick footsteps made its way closer and Draco couldn't find the energy to pick his head up and glare. The sound of bags being dropped to the side alerted him and he soon found hands tugging at his shirt as he was lifted upright.
"Now what were you trying to do?" Bradley asked in a soft coo, though his lips were pressed tight. "You weren't trying to escape, were you?"
Draco stared hard at the other man, for the first time noticing the bright glaze that was present in his eyes that was probably caused by delusion and too many recreational potions. For once in this entire situation, Draco was slowly putting all the pieces together and realized what he was up against.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he managed to say dryly, his stare turning steely as he kept his eyes on the other man's. "I'm having such a wonderful time, why would I want to leave?"
Draco supposed, a second too late, that taunting his captor wasn't the smartest of moves. And as he found a wand pressed snuggly against his Adam's apple, he realized that he was extremely tired of all the bodily threats against him. When the wand did not leave from his neck, Draco looked up at Bradley's face.
"I thought that you loved me," he said, voice strained. It took him every ounce of will power not to get ill from saying those words.
Swallowing, he continued, "I don't understand why you keep hurting me."
Almost immediately, Bradley dropped his wand to the floor, as if burned. He sank to his knees before Draco.
"Oh Draco," he sighed, eyes open in shock as he reached up to hold Draco's face in his hands. "I would never want to hurt you. I do love you. So much that sometimes I just can't help myself."
He shook his head as he leaned closer to the other man, "Everything I've done was to help you."
Draco watched as Bradley moved one of his hands away from his face, trailing it down until it brushed the bandage on his arm. Draco couldn't help but wince.
"It was so ugly, of course I would help you get rid of it, Draco," Bradley said earnestly, looking down at the arm. "Nobody should mark you or claim you as theirs when they can't understand how wonderful you are."
Bradley paused, letting his other hand fall from Draco's face.
"That's why it makes me so sad that you're in love with him," he sighed softly, glancing back at Draco's face.
Draco stared at the man in confusion, unable to help himself before he spoke incredulously, "In love with who?"
Bradley frowned, his hand brushing against Draco's injured arm again. Draco noticed the change of demeanor and couldn't help but tense up.
"Draco, why must you continue to lie to me?" Bradley said softly, letting his hands fall away. "You don't have to pretend. I know about how you feel about Auror Potter…"
Bradley slowly stood up, staring down at Draco with a disappointed look.
"I know, Draco. I can see it with my own eyes. But you need to know that he doesn't deserve you. He doesn't even see you."
Draco's eyes narrowed as he stared at the other man.
"I don't love Harry Potter," he snapped out, tired of dealing with this madman. "I don't understand why you keep saying that I am!"
"Stop denying it!" Bradley roared, his whole body shaking with anger that appeared out of nowhere. "How can I help you when you keep lying to me?"
Shaking his head, he glared at Draco before moving over to the workbench in the corner of the room. Unable to follow him all the way to the table, Draco jerked his head around, trying to see what the other man was trying to do. He could hear Bradley mumbling angrily to himself and shove things around on the table, but when all movement behind him ceased and a soft exclamation of happiness sounded, Draco couldn't help but freeze up, arms unconsciously flexing against the ropes to see if somehow, someway, he would be able to escape this time. He didn't have to wait long until Bradley stepped back in front of him, looking as though he had just found some liquid luck hiding among the mess that was his worktable. In his hand was a small, dark bottle that made it difficult for Draco to tell what its contents were.
Draco swallowed as he watched Bradley move to uncork the bottle. Something told him that he didn't need to look at the potion to figure out what it was.
"Why are you doing this?" he found himself asking, unconsciously pressing back against his chair as if it would save him from his upcoming fate.
"Draco..." the other man popped the cork off of the potion bottle and Draco's senses were overwhelmed with the smell of grass, morning rain, and hot chocolate. "You need to realize that you're lying to yourself..."
He squatted down so that he was eye-level with the blond, a sad sort of grin tugging at his lips.
"You know," he said before taking a moment to smell the potion himself. "My dad used to tell me when I was a little boy that anybody can fall in love, but most of the time, nobody gets a happy ending."
He tilted his head to the side as he continued, "But you see, my dad was a very smart man. He realized that he could help other people become happy and help them realize that the people that they've fallen in love with were completely wrong for them."
Bradley laughed as he threw Draco a smile, shaking his head, "Unfortunately, my dad was a little self-involved and believed that every one of them were in love with him. But I do think he had some very valid points..."
He leaned closer to Draco, reaching out with one hand to hold his chin in place.
"Draco, the only thing stopping you from realizing that we are meant to be is your inability to admit that you are in love with Harry Potter," Bradley said sternly, raising up the bottle and pressing it against Draco's closed lips. "You need to stop hiding it from yourself or else I just can't help you..."
Draco clamped his jaw shut and shook his head vigorously to get the hand gripping his face to loosen up. After a few minutes of struggling with each other, Bradley gained the upper hand as he was able to stand up and pressure Draco's mouth open. His expression was one of pure concentration as he shoved the bottle halfway down Draco's throat and the liquid began a warm, sweet path down his throat as his senses were assaulted by smells that he knew were only available to him.
Draco choked and sputtered, trying to make his gag reflex work enough to vomit the potion back up. Bradley, however, seemed to know that this was what he was trying to do and instead held a hand over his mouth and pinched his nose, restricting all the oxygen from Draco's airways.
"This part was always the hardest for them to deal with too," Bradley murmured in a soft voice, nodding his head to himself as he held Draco's mouth closed. "Draco, you can't keep this up forever."
As if his body knew what Bradley said was true, Draco started choking with his mouth closed. Because the liquid had nowhere else to go but down, he squeezed his eyes shut and had no choice but to swallow, feeling the liquid slowly turn into warmth within his belly. As he opened his eyes, he noticed that Bradley had finally let go of his nose and mouth and was watching him carefully. Draco soon found it hard to keep his eyes open, a lethargic feeling passing through him and he shook his head, trying to clear his mind.
"Perfect..." he heard Bradley murmur, brushing a hand through Draco's hair. "When you can finally admit it to yourself that you have feelings for him, we'll be able to give you one last potion and then you'll want nothing more than to be with me for the rest of your life."
Draco could only make a soft groan as he leaned his head back against the chair, head lolling to the side as he tried to focus on something in particular. The warmth from his belly was slowly spreading through the rest of his body and his senses were still overwhelmed by the scents from the potion, though they seemed to be slowly changing into something different, more earthy, like leather and mud and there seemed to be a sweet note at the end of it, something sickenly sweet and sugary like... Draco's eyes fluttered close as his body relaxed against the bindings holding him in place. Yes, that was the scent of freshly baked treacle tart... The exact same smell that he encountered every weekend during his years at Hogwarts.
oooOooo
Harry rubbed at his eyes as he made his way through the Atrium, fighting back a yawn. Even though Monday mornings were usually pretty annoying, this one was exceedingly so since he had worked all weekend and still had no new leads in Malfoy's case. There was an edgy anxiousness that had slowly started developing in him that came with a rather painful headache that would appear sporadically, but he knew that there wasn't anything he could do about it. He knew that there was only so much more time left until the unthinkable happened - that he would find Draco lifeless in some alley, Harry having been unable to solve the case in time.
He swallowed to dislodge the knot that was forming in his throat, shaking his head as he slowed his breathing down and forced himself to think calming thoughts. Having a mild panic attack on his way to his office for work would not help him in the least. As he made his way into the elevator, he pushed the button to the second floor and waited until the door was ready to close.
"Hold the door, please," came a deep voice and Harry recognized it instantly, sticking his hand out to stop the elevator door from closing.
He took a step back as the other man made his way into the elevator, throwing Harry a grateful smile.
"Thank you, Harry," Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned over to press the button to the first floor.
He took a moment to straighten his robes before glancing at Harry with a curious stare.
"You're in rather early, Harry," he commented lightly, taking in Harry's rather disheveled appearance. "If you don't mind me saying, it looks like it wouldn't have hurt for you to have had a few more hours of rest."
Harry couldn't help the sheepish smile from pulling at his lips, a faint chuckle coming from his mouth. As busy as he was, he had stopped paying attention to his appearance. After all, it wasn't exactly encouraging to fix his hair when the mirror chastised him from having dark circles under his eyes every time he came near.
"I could do with some more sleep," he agreed with a sigh. "But I've been really busy with the Malfoy case and I really need to get a break in the case soon. I can always rest afterwards, anyways. You know how it is."
Shacklebolt nodded knowingly, a contemplative expression crossing his face as he looked like he was thinking back to the time that he was an Auror.
"I can't say that I miss that part of the job," he replied thoughtfully after a moment, throwing Harry a smile. "Though it does get a little dull in my office every day."
He turned to face Harry properly, a small furrow in his brow.
"I know that you take each of your cases seriously Harry, but I don't see how Malfoy's case would cause you to lose so much sleep," he pointed out, shaking his head. "I know that you have some history with him, and I knew that you'd be the right one for the case, but you really do look ill."
Harry could feel a confused expression crossing his face before he frowned, shaking his head. He knew that most of the Ministry still held reservations about the Malfoy name, but Draco had been kidnapped and that definitely was something Harry was willing to lose sleep over. Any case like this would cause the Aurors to react in the same way.
"I don't understand what you mean," he admitted after his confusion settled. "Sir, it's extremely important. He could be killed if we don't find him soon."
The elevator announced that they had arrived on the first floor and Harry belatedly realized that he must've missed his stop. The look on Shacklebolt's face made Harry pause in his tracks, his hand halfway to the elevator buttons. Shacklebolt was frowning and he shook his head, moving towards the open elevator door and gesturing for Harry to follow. Harry dropped his hand and followed the Minister out of the elevator, wondering what was going on.
When Shacklebolt finally reached his office, he opened the door for Harry to come in before following, closing the door soundly. He went to the other side of his desk and waved his wand, sending a privacy spell around the room before folding his arms in front of his chest.
"Harry," he said, staring at the Auror. "What are you talking about? The case that I sent to you mentioned nothing about a kidnapping. How did it escalate to such a dangerous point?"
Harry's confusion came back and he shook his head, trying to piece together what the Minister was saying.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said slowly, still trying to see where the connection was lost. "I don't understand what you're talking about. I never received a case from you. I'm referring to the case that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy petitioned, the one regarding Draco Malfoy's kidnapping. I've been working on it for a week now with Ron."
Shacklebolt put his wand down before moving to a cabinet, opening it to pull out a file. He opened it up and set it down on the desk, facing Harry.
"Draco Malfoy came to me a few weeks ago to report security concerns for himself," he said as he sat down in his seat, gesturing for Harry to do the same in the chair across from him. "It seems that he had a stalker that had been sending him explicit messages to the point where Draco believed that he was in physical danger, and that his family might be put into danger as well."
Harry reached down into the file, flipping through the letters that were neatly stacked on the desk. Malfoy was receiving letters from a stalker? He felt cold seeping into his bones. There was no way that this could've been a coincidence - these letters had to be from the person who kidnapped him.
"Why did the Auror Department never receive these?" he asked, closing the folder and picking it up as he looked at the Minister. "This could be the same person who's taken him."
Shacklebolt's lips pursed as he shook his head, staring at Harry.
"I did send them to the Auror Department, only a day after meeting with him, Harry," he spoke softly, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to be listening on the other side even though he had cast a muffling spell. "It was posted as an urgent delivery, straight to you because I believed that you'd be the best one for the case and Draco had asked for discretion. You should have received it weeks ago."
The cold that Harry felt suddenly dropped two degrees.
Standing up quickly, he gave a nod to Shacklebolt before turning to the door.
"I think I just got my break in the case, sir," he said quickly, making sure to tuck the folder into his side. "I don't have time to explain it now, but I'll let you know what happens as soon as we get Malfoy back."
Without another word, he opened the door and tried his best not to sprint the entire way back to the Auror Department.
When Harry arrived to the Auror Department and noticed an unfamiliar person sitting at Bradley's desk, he knew that his suspicions were correct.
"Where is Bradley?" he asked tersely, trying to hide his anxiousness. "Why isn't he in today?"
The young witch glanced up from a report she was organizing and gave Harry a smile upon realizing who was speaking to her.
"Hello Auror Potter!" she smiled, either choosing to ignore how he looked or just not able to tell that his facial expression conveyed that he did not want to exchange pleasantries. When the girl started twirling her hair, Harry had to force himself not to roll his eyes.
"Bradley?" he asked again in a sharp tone, frowning. "Do you happen to know where he is?"
Finally coming to the conclusion that Harry didn't want to chat with her, the witch gave a soft sigh and sat back down, something akin to a pout on her face.
"He called in sick this morning," she replied, glancing down at her report again. "Said something about how he wasn't feeling well and probably wouldn't come in tomorrow, either."
Harry turned and quickly walked away, not bothering to acknowledge the hopeful, "Please let me know if I can help you in any way, Auror Potter!" that followed his retreating form.
"Ron!" Harry shouted as he slammed the door to his friend's office open.
Ron quickly looked up from the report he was writing on to see the expression on Harry's face.
"What's wrong, Harry?" he asked quickly, standing up in alarm. "Did you find a lead in the case?"
Harry gave a sharp nod before gesturing to Ron to follow him.
"We have to go find Hermione, she needs to look up something before I can be positive about my hunch."
He turned and quickly made his way out of the office, not even bothering to look behind him to see if Ron had followed.
oooOooo
Harry could honestly say that he had expected Hermione's shocked expression and Ron's outraged exclamation, but the time was ticking and the more time he wasted trying to get his friends to get over their surprise was more time they could've spent tracking down the psychopath that had kidnapped Draco.
"Hermione, I need his address," he urged, waving his hand in the direction of the magical filing cabinets before her.
"I understand all the privacy protocols," he continued, cutting her off. "I'll deal with that later. Right now, we really need to find him!"
Hermione pursed her lips together before she turned away for a moment, using her wand to cast a spell to get what they were looking for. When she handed him the slip of paper with the information he needed, it was her turn to cut him off as he opened his mouth to say thanks.
"Just go!" she ushered them away as she turned back around to shuffle through more files. "I'll try to find anything else that would be useful. Try to floo me when you have the chance."
All he heard before racing out of the room was a loud sigh from Ron and a grumbled, "I knew I should've had an early lunch..."
oooOooo
When Draco came back to consciousness, all he could get his mind to focus on was the fact that he was now laying on an extremely soft bed and that there was an intense heat surrounding him, invading his nose and lungs and making him feel as though he was going to burn to death. That thought brought the unwelcomed memory of his childhood, gripping tightly to a firm body slicked with sweat, his own shirt glued to him from intense heat. And the flames! He never felt something quite as hot as the Fiendfyre until now, this intense heat bent on suffocating the life out of him. He closed his eyes as he sank further into the mattress, trying to will away the heat.
"So hot..." he moaned softly, shifting a little to turn on his side.
A soft breeze tickled the skin of his neck, causing goose bumps to rise when he heard a chuckle behind him.
"It'll be ok soon, you're doing just fine."
The voice grated on his nerves, but he only had enough strength to make a noise of discomfort and tried to roll away. A hand caught his sleeve as he tried to move and Draco could feel a dip in the bed as the person beside him climbed in the bed.
"You're going to be alright, just as soon as you figure out what you need to do."
Through the haze, Draco listened to the words being spoken, but he was unable to focus too long on what the man meant. All he wanted was for the heat and the pain to go away.
Fingertips brushed at the junction where his shirt sleeve met his wrist and the point that felt the pressure of the fingers began to burn, as if Draco had accidently brushed up against a hot tea kettle. He jerked his hand away and tried to move again, only to be pressed back into the bed by hands firmly pressing into his hipbones. When Draco opened his eyes, he tried to focus on the figure above him, but the room was too dark and all his other senses seemed to be on overload. When the man shifted above him, setting himself down on Draco's thighs, Draco could do nothing but stare, trying to get images to focus through his will alone. When the hands at his waist began to move up to the buttons keeping his shirt together, Draco's breath hitched. Fingers began to move, brushing against the buttons before working through the process of undoing them. When a hand dipped into his shirt, Draco reacted instinctually, shoving the hand away with his own.
He did not expect the burning sensation that accompanied it that left him breathless, feeling his skin prickle and tighten as if a dragon had just warned him to stay away.
"Draco," Bradley murmured softly, taking a shirt-covered wrist into his hand. "When will you learn? You're just going to have to trust me."
He let go of Draco's arm and turned his attention to Draco's fully exposed chest, hands reaching up to hover over his abdomen. When one brushed against his skin, Draco's breathing had increased and he had to choke back the pained noise trying to escape his mouth.
"Do you understand now?" Bradley asked softly, staring at the pained expression on the other man's face. "If you could just understand-" he emphasized this with another brush of his hand, this time against Draco's side, "If you get it, then you can make all the pain go away."
A sob was torn from Draco's throat as both palms pushed hard into his belly, bright white burning pain coming from his stomach. He felt himself jerk back and for a brief moment, he could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head. The trail of fire traveled away from his midsection and up to his head as Bradley shifted, holding Draco's face in his hands. The pain had become so intense that Draco had lost his vision all together and all he could do was think and feel about the pain and how it was never going away. From somewhere far away, he could make out the sound of broken sobs, the sound painful to his own ears, but he was too lost to realize they were coming from his own mouth.
Bradley smiled gently as he watched the man beneath him convulse with pain.
"Draco, do you understand now?" he asked, murmuring into the other man's ear. "Do you understand what can stop the pain? Do you want the pain to go away?"
Bradley's expression fell when he didn't receive a response, but before he had to prompt Draco into action, the blond gasped as one particularly painful sensation went through him.
"Who is the one who's supposed to save you?" Bradley asked in a low voice, threading his fingers through Draco's hair, ignoring the sharp cry that came right after. "Who isn't here right now?"
The only response he got was a pained groan as Draco refused to cooperate.
"Who is it?!" he demanded, hauling Draco up by his hair, sneering.
He took some comfort in the fact that the other man was openly sobbing now, from what Bradley could only assume be from the magnitude of pain he was in. The pain that was caused by none other than that selfish, good-for-nothing Auror that never gave Draco the attention he deserved.
"You have to tell me his name," he continued, voice breaking as he shook the other man. "Tell me who you want so that I can make the pain go away."
Bradley let the other man go, watching as he dropped limply back into bed. Before Bradley began to lose his patience, he caught the tail end of something mumbled.
"What did you just say?" he asked, eyes bright with excitement. "Tell me."
He reached out and gripped Draco's shoulders tightly, watching as he thrashed around in pain.
"Tell me," he repeated, letting him go, watching as the other man shook from the pain.
"P-potter..." came the moaned response as Draco's hands grasped uselessly at the bed covers.
Bradley's smile spread across from his face as he leaned forward, ignoring the pained protests that he got in return as he gently cupped Draco's face.
"Yes, you've finally admitted it, Draco," he murmured happily. "Now we just need to let him know what exactly he's been missing all these years and then it'll all be over."
oooOooo
When Harry and Ron got to Bradley's apartment, no words needed to be said between the two of them to know that something was seriously wrong.
"I can't believe someone like this was able to worm his way into the Ministry," Ron sighed, looking around at the messy flat with wide eyes. "I thought we had finally got rid of all the rats in the Ministry."
Harry had walked over to a small table covered in scattered paper and small vials.
"I don't think we ever accounted for crazy people who kidnap ex-Death Eaters before threatening law enforcement."
Harry frowned as he picked up one of the vials, a plain black tube with some liquid inside. Something was familiar about these...
Ron's soft exclamation of surprise caused him to turn toward the source, watching as Ron tugged a heavy canvas off of the coffee table set next to the lone chair in the living area. When Harry saw the small stone basin, everything clicked.
"Ron, look," he gathered up all the vials he could find. "Ministry-required memories for evidence."
Harry glanced back to the table when something else caught his eye. He put down the vials as he moved to shuffle through the documents on the table. When he opened one folder to see someone familiar staring back at him, he dropped it in surprise.
"These are copies from Franklin's file," he murmured, spreading them out so Ron could also see them.
After a moment, Ron voiced the concern that was in Harry's own head.
"The files we had are still in your office, aren't they, Harry?" he asked as he read through a small memo. "And I don't remember reading through any of these... Or seeing pensieve memories."
Harry barely registered the latter part of what Ron said when he picked up one particular report.
"Franklin has one surviving relative," Harry said faintly, re-reading the words to make sure he had read it right. "Ron, we should've seen it sooner..."
He showed Ron the report, where in big, bold letters it said that the executor of what was left of Jeremiah Franklin's estate would be none other than his one and only son, Bradley Scott Franklin.