We'll Be The Only Dream You Seek

by Ceilidhchaos

In the summer before 8th year, Head Boy Theo Nott and Head Girl Hermione Granger are dealing with alot of trauma at child soldier therapy camp. Pansy and Draco are waiting for their trials. The four of them end up growing closer over fire whiskey, cigarettes, group therapy and illicit touches. A polyamorous, kinky AU.

1. I've Got To Get Out Of This Place

We'll Be The Only Dream You Seek

Tags: Draco/Hermione, Draco/Theo, Draco/Pansy, Theo/Pansy, Draco/Theo/Pansy, Draco/Theo/Pansy/Hermione, Pansy/Hermione, Theo/Hermione, past - Luna/Pansy, past- Daphne/Pansy Blaise/Luna, Luna/Ginny, Blaise/Luna/Ginny, Dean/Seamus,

Child abuse, Lucius Malfoy Being An Asshole, non-con, alcohol abuse, ptsd, child soldiers, mental health, accidental soul bonding, polyamory, HEA, unplanned pregnancy, light bdsm, group sex, clitoral stimulation, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, POV Theo Nott, LGBT rep, bisexual Draco Malfoy, signet rings, piercings, tattoos, 8th year, EWE, Hermione Granger is perpetually confused, Pansy is a lesbian mostly, idiots in love, bisexual Theo Nott, Wizengamot, The Slytherin Sex God thing was made up, bisexual Luna Lovegood, Luna and Draco are cousins in this fic, Ron bashing, Molly Weasley Bashing, light Daphne Greengrass bashing, slytherins in Muggle London, Hotel Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Theo doesn't die in this, Virgin Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Head Boy Theo Nott, Theo just wants to fuck, honestly some disturbing flashbacks,

Note:

The title for this fic comes from the lyrics to

This Side of Paradise by Coyote Theory, with a slight change.

track/79EkGysjP2dL5GdpeQjRxT?si=KgHwHheMRsuf8PfULt_cIA

Chapter 1:

I Have Got To Get Out Of This Place

The song for this chapter is All The Kids Are Depressed - Jeremy Zucker. track/75ls0gurX68lUmMjE7QcsE?si=m-hNQkSSRBuR9LaPLWFzjA

Hermione

After a month at the Burrow after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had had enough. Every one of the Weasleys was distraught and there was no comforting them. Molly wasn't even able to get out of bed and Arthur was a horrible cook. The house was covered in dust since Molly hadn't taught anyone her housekeeping spells. The magical knitting needles that were usually knitting lay silent on an ottoman. Dishes were stacked up in the kitchen. And if the main area of the house was suffering from neglect, the bedrooms were being actively abused. The house, once the image of homely dishabille now began to smell of decay and sorrow.

George was drunk more often than not and was growing a beard so he wouldn't see Fred when he looked in the mirror. Although he had put his fist through his mirror two days after the battle and had refused to repair it or let anyone else do so. Hermione was mourning Fred deeply and since she was among the Weasleys who were all devastated, they didn't think anything of why exactly it was that Hermione was so distraught.

Ginny and Harry were constantly together, speaking in low tones in the back garden, comforting each other as they both wept. Percy had disappeared into his Ministry job and made excuses for why he wasn't able to come by. Charlie returned to his dragons in Romania the moment that Fred's funeral had been over. Bill was constantly working and reworking the wards on the Burrow, trying to make sure that an incident like what happened at his and Fleur's wedding could not happen again. Hermione never saw him even stop to eat, he was at it for hours. Ron was out partying in Diagon Alley and other Wizarding bars being heralded as a savior of the Wizarding world. And no one even considered that Hermione was struggling to hold it together. Well, except Fleur.

Fleur had sat at the kitchen table with Hermione in the middle of the night when Hermione woke screaming night after night. She would just sit in silence with her, sometimes bringing out Elf wine, fire whiskey or one night a Veela liquor that was so strong Hermione felt like she had swallowed a baby Hungarian Horntail. Fleur never asked questions. She just sat with Hermione sometimes until dawn while Hermione stared vacantly out the window. Outside night after night, Bill was sending spell after spell to check and recheck the wards, sometimes causing a light like blue lightning to flash up the apparition ward boundary.

The last night before she returned to Shell Cottage, Fleur had said, "Mon amie, Bill and I will go tomorrow. Is there nowhere else you can be? The Burrow is no place for you. Bill, he can not stand the sorrow here any more and is almost done redoing the wards. We will go. You should go too."

Hermione had wept and wept. "Where can I go, Fleur?" Then, she had spilled the whole sordid story of obliviating her parents who were now who knows where in Australia. Hermione sobbed as she talked about the weekly letters that she was sending to her parents via the Australian Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and how she knew that they were unread sitting in some office. The Australian DMLE were unable to locate her parents. Australia is a big place, Miss Granger. As soon as we have any news, you will be the first to know.

Hermione didn't think they were even looking that hard, but when pressed Kingsley had said that jurisdiction issues prevented sending British Aurors to Australia to search. Jurisdiction.

Fleur just held her hand and listened as the sun rose through the windows.

"Tu es si courageuse. So very brave, 'Ermione." Fleur whispered and kissed Hermione softly on the hand. The frisson of the kiss made Hermione look up stunned. Fleur gave her a sad little smile. "You could come with Bill and I. We would love to have you join us there but I think that it would not be a distracting enough place for you. Shell Cottage is very quiet and you would only have the two of us for company." And after Fleur had got up and walked away, leaving Hermione alone wondering how a woman's lips on her hand had made her more breathless than all of Ron's sloppy attempts at kissing.

Ron, whose protestations of love had meant nothing in the face of adoring fans and Hermione's unwillingness to sleep with him at the Burrow …surrounded by his family…who were grieving. It was hardly the most erotic thing. When she had told him so he had walked out and hadn't come back. Hermione hadn't heard from him in weeks. She wasn't sure she even wanted to. What was there to say at this point?

After Fleur left, everything was much, much worse. Hermione felt so alone. Her best friends had deserted her. Everything they had fought for seemed so pointless. So many people were dead. Fred. Remus. Tonks. Lavender. Colin. Snape. She had lost her parents. She started carrying a flask. She would drink to fortify herself in the morning to face the Weasleys. She would drink with George in the back garden in the afternoon, pretending she didn't notice it when he went silent and the tears ran down his cheeks. Hermione drank alone at the kitchen table when her night terrors wouldn't let her sleep and missed Fleur's quiet presence and wondered what her gentle lips on her hand had meant. It was probably just a French thing or a Pureblood thing. Hermione knew that the muggle term for what she was doing was "self-medicating," but she didn't know how else to cope and everything felt so empty that she couldn't find it in herself to care.

The next day, like a lifeline, the owl arrived. The letter from McGonagall read

Miss Granger,

In one week, Hogwarts will begin a Restoration Camp. I hope that you will be able to join us prior to the 8th year term that will be offered for you and other students who were unable to meaningfully participate due to the war. There is a great deal of repairs to do to the castle, but also I fear for all of you students as well. I plan to offer you the post of Head Girl next year and I would like you to be here this summer and participate in Restoration Camp. All the students attending will be repairing the castle as well as working with special mindhealers that I have contracted with to help with what has been a deeply difficult time for all of us. I am sending invitations to students of all Houses to attempt to restore some school unity. Please come, Hermione.

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

It couldn't have come at a better time. Despite Hermione's misgivings about attending with those who had fought on Voldemort's side, the Slytherins, she sent off an acceptance immediately via the owl that had been waiting for Hermione's response. Merlin, she needed to be anywhere else. After she watched it fly northward, Hermione laid down and imagined what it would be like to be back at Hogwarts and the only scene she could see over and over was Malfoy. His blonde hair crispy from the fiendfyre and covered in dust and debris. Malfoy and his mother, the way she had embraced him when Harry had slain Voldemort and had dragged him away from the battle. Her mother didn't even know the Battle of Hogwarts had happened, didn't even remember that she had a daughter. Hermione took a long draw off her flask that she had refilled with the Veela liquor that Fleur had given her and wondered what Malfoy was doing right then and then wondered why she cared.

Draco

Draco wasn't doing any better than Hermione. On house arrest at the manor, he was washing a calming draught down with fire whiskey and raiding the manor's wine cellar daily. His mother was distraught about his father being in Azkaban and Draco uncharitably thought that she should have been used to it by now. The lack of his father's cane in his ribs and no scalding insults in his ear were the only improvements that he could see in the current situation. Their stilted meals together were so silent and painful; it seemed like the war had broken their closeness as well. (this is just heartbreaking, the effects war can have on our relationships w/ loved ones and even ourselves) After being locked together in the manor since the last battle, they had run out of things to say to one another. Draco felt as much a prisoner of the Manor as he had been when the Dark Lord had reigned here.

Draco didn't believe in muggle deities, but he did fervently wish for a way out. So he was shocked beyond belief when his wish was answered by none other than Headmistress McGonagall.

Mr. Malfoy,

Beginning next week a Restoration Camp will start at Hogwarts. I have spoken with the Ministry and you can serve your house arrest at Hogwarts, if you wish, prior to your trial in August. Restoration Camp participants will be making repairs to the castle and working with mind healers in good faith. Members of all houses will be invited and an 8th year term is available for students who could not participate in the last year or more of instruction due to the war. I consider you to be among that number and hope you will attend. Please send your reply as soon as possible and I will make arrangements for the Floo to be open for you to Floo directly from the Manor to my office so as to avoid the need for an Auror escort on the Hogwarts Express. (that's so thoughtful/kind of her. You've really captured Minerva's voice here )

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Draco took less than a minute to decide he would accept. Oh Merlin and Morgana, he needed to be anywhere else. He was a wreck and the Manor was full of ghosts. Sometimes he would think he heard his Aunt's sinister cackle down the hall or he would go stand in the drawing room and stare at the spot where the house elves had scrubbed out Granger's blood or look at the dining table where Professor Burbage had been eaten by Nagini. How he hated that fucking snake. He envied Longbottom cutting its disgusting head off. Sometimes at night Draco swore he could hear the damn thing slithering around the house. When that happened, Draco ended up drinking Fire Whiskey straight from a bottle out of his father's private stash in his mother's rose gardens, laying on the grass looking at the stars (I know this is an important moment of self examination, what makes it even better is that its out under the stars. and weeping for all the horrible things he had seen and done. He was a fucking monster. He hoped he would be sentenced to Azkaban, to the Dementors' kiss. He hoped that the oblivion that fire whiskey cast could be forever and he wished for his own death more ardently than he ever fantasized about a lover. He wished he wasn't such a coward. He couldn't leave his mother to find his body and on nights like this that was the only thought that stayed his hand. (this is comforting to read about his concern of his mother finding his body and that thought is what helps him not go through with it. I haven't personally dealt w/ suicidal thoughts, but some close loved ones I love have and just the knowledge that our love can hopefully give someone a reason to stay is so powerful. It opens up many thoughts/feelings to ponder on.

He thought of Theo's lips that night he had gotten so drunk after taking the Mark and wanted something to fill the emptiness with. He thought of Granger pulling him onto the broom and saving him from the Fiendfyre in the room of hidden things. The way her hair smelled as she pulled him onto the broom, not like the fire below but like rosemary and mint. He wiped the tears off from his face when he thought of how many apologies he owed her and apologies made him think of Pansy, also on house arrest. What was Pansy doing? Was she okay? Would she go to this Restoration Camp? Would Theo? Would Blaise? And then he let himself have the forbidden thought. Would Granger be there?

He found himself wishing she would be. He imagined her in the library sucking on her quill with that look of concentration on her face, her ankles crossed. The way she bit her bottom lip while she wrote an essay. The image made him a bit breathless. And then he shook it off, Granger was something he could never have. She could never be his, but he could at least see her.

The next week was going to last an eternity. He drank fire whiskey until he passed out on the lawn staring at the stars and didn't wake up until the sun began scorching his pale skin mid morning as it rose over the rose bushes. Draco sat up, blinked and had never felt so very, very alone. He hadn't dreamed for a change and that was a good thing. His dreams were all nightmares: Dumbledore falling from the tower, Granger screaming and bleeding, Lucius hitting him in the ribs with his cane, his Aunt with her wand to his throat as she "taught" him occlumency and choked him. Her sadism had terrified him. Between all those images and then the Dark Lord on endless repeat in his nightmares made him want to cry even in the light of day. (you capture his inner turmoil and vulnerability so well)

Instead he stood up and went inside to clean up and then tell his mother he was leaving. It was for the best. He could let her grieve in private. He was sure she would prefer that, then she could be sad without pretending to be okay for him. He knew she hated for him to see her cry. And she had to know it was hard for Draco to be sympathetic over the loss of Lucius considering how brutal and cruel Lucius had been to him for his whole childhood and teen years. The husband that Lucius had been to Narcissa was nothing like the father he had been to Draco. His father was devoted to his mother in all things except for her wishes regarding raising Draco.

Honestly in his heart of hearts, Draco didn't understand how his mother could compartmentalize the man that beat her beloved son and the husband that adored her. How did she separate them? How could she love and miss a man who had hurt him so much? Perhaps it was Draco who wanted to be leaving his mother behind after all. The last thing he wanted was for his anger and betrayal at his mother to burst out while they were confined in the house together. No good could come from that.

Theo

Theo was covering 62 copies of his grandfather's Pure-Blood Directory with his father's favorite firewhiskey and playing with muggle matches.

"Fuck Cantakerous Nott! Fuck the Ancient and Noble House of Nott and fuck all this pureblood supremacist shite," Theo said with venom and hate in his voice as he lit the muggle matches and dropped them on the books. They lit with a boom and instantly became a bonfire. Theo watched with pleasure, drinking the remaining fire whiskey straight from the bottle.

The Hogwarts owl landed right next to where he was sitting on the stone steps in the courtyard at Nott Manor while he watched the books burn. He finally noticed when it started pecking him. He was too drunk to read the note, so he took it, gave the owl a treat from his pocket and sent it on its way without replying. He passed out on the stones whispering to himself Merlin, if only I could be anywhere but here. The next day when he woke up still curled in a fetal position on the cold stones, the letter was sealed and clenched in his fist.

Mr Nott,

It is my honor to inform you that I am offering you the position of Head Boy this year at Hogwarts. There is to be an 8th year program for students such as yourself who weren't able to attend or participate due to the war. It is my hope you will accept.

Theo laughed out loud. Who knew that a father in Azkaban was a disqualification for Head Boy? He continued to read.

In one week, a Restoration Camp will begin at Hogwarts where students from all Houses will begin to repair the castle and themselves.

Theo sucked in a breath.

I have employed Mindhealers to help support the venture. It is my hope that you will accept the position of Head Boy and be an example to the other members of your house that participation in the Camp will be a good thing for them. I look forward to your owl.

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Theo sat in shock, seemingly staring at the ash of all those supremacist books. He had knocked the bottle of fire whiskey over in his sleep, but he saw that there were still a couple shots remaining and held the bottle to his lips. He licked his lip as the last drops fell onto his tongue and he ran his tongue around the mouth of the bottle. My my, that's a bit erotic, yeah. He realized his cock was hard, so he imagined Draco's soft mouth on his, lingering on his jaw and neck, Pansy's soft hands inching down his pants and easing out his cock as he stroked himself exposed to the cold air in his manor's courtyard. He was breathing heavily but struggled to get farther in his pursuit of his own pleasure. So Theo embraced his darker fantasies and pictured grabbing Granger by that incredible hair that reminded him of his own and fucking her on the bench in the Potions classroom as he had fantasized 1000 times before. As he came all over the stones at his feet, Theo sighed and whispered harshly " I am a fucking pervert." However as he scourgified himself, he admitted to himself that he would likely wank to Draco, Pansy and even more forbidden, Granger again. Theo stood up and pissed all over the smoldering ashes of the blood supremacist books that he had burned the night before.

Piss and dark arts made a foul steam in the morning air. Theo headed into the manor to send an acceptance to McGonagall and then get cleaned up before the Aurors and Curse Breakers were due to arrive at 9am to go through the next wing of the manor. He would have to let them know he and his blood could only help them with the wards for another week. They would have to pick up the pace.

"Meeka," Theo called for his house Elf, who appeared with a crack "Please bring coffee and a small breakfast to the Floo parlor."

"Of course, Master Theo," The little Elf in her floral pillowcase said, bobbing in a curtsy. "Does Master Theo need anything else? Master Theo smells of smoke and fire whiskey." The little Elf scrunched her nose and most of her little face at the smell.

Theo stripped his shirt off and handed it to the little Elf. "Scourgify only goes so far." Theo smiled at Meeka and ran his hands through his brown curls that reached the tops of his ears. "Bring me a fresh shirt and I will have a long bath after the Aurors leave this afternoon."

Theo went through the huge oak doors that lead to the Floo Parlor, an unassuming name for a ridiculously dark and ostentatious room. The furniture (a pair of matching chairs) was huge and stained black like thrones, the carpeting was the color of blood and Theo suspected it hid some actual blood. What was that muggle spray that could show blood? He had read about it...He probably didn't want to use it in Nott Manor honestly. The place would probably glow like a Yule tree. Theo shuddered at the thought. He would much rather dwell in plausible deniability when it came to blood stains in his house.

Theo tossed some Floo powder and called Robards, the head Auror who had been overseeing the sweep for dark artifacts at the Manor with Theo's consent. Robards' face quickly appeared in the flames.

"Robards, you old prick. Thanks for taking my floo. " Theo grinned, showing off his left dimple.

"Nott, you insolent little bastard, why are you interrupting my morning ablutions? I have a team due to arrive there in just over an hour. Is there a problem?"

Theo grinned " Ah ah, for some reason my mother married my father, so a bastard I am not. However, today, I am doomed to be a pain in your ass."

Robards sighed. This didn't sound good.

"I will be there in 15, but the Auror team will be there just a few minutes after me. If you are needing a private conversation, it will be short, Nott."

Theo picked up the coffee that had just appeared next to him and sipped. "Oh don't worry Gawain, I will be ever so to the point. I am sure you have damsels to save and dragons to slay." Theo's grin was a little feral and his eyes flashed. Robards had access to Draco and wouldn't pass a message, the prick.

Robards just shook his head, and looked through the Floo. Theo stared back and the Floo call winked out and Theo exhaled. This talk would likely not go well, hopefully the Ministry didn't think he was intentionally trying to thwart the Dark Arts sweep he had agreed to. Theo hoped he could leverage Robards' guilt so that this was just perceived as Theo being a teenager rather than a thorn in the side of the Ministry.

As Robards walked through the Floo, Theo was on his third cup of coffee. This one had a generous helping of Firewhiskey added and Robards grimaced at the smell.

"Bit early isn't it, Nott?" Robards scowled at the kid, slouching back in his oversized chair that looked more like a throne out of Hades than a receiving room chair.

Theo grinned revealing his dimples and swiped his hair out of his eyes. "I thought we agreed you'd call me Theo, Gawain? I mean, no one else is around to appreciate us being overly familiar and we are such old friends." Theo's smile grew almost feral. Robards sat in the other chair and harrumphed. Theo was smiling into his coffee cup, but the grin didn't reach his blue-green eyes which for lack of a better word looked haunted. Robards looked at him and couldn't help but see the scared little boy he had interviewed again and again in St Mungos about his injuries. Theo had been so small and frail. Robards had interviewed him at least a dozen times about this broken bone, this severe burn, that curse, but the boy had never said a word. Considering what Nott Sr had done to Lady Nott...Robards thought, it was no surprise the boy had recited stories about his supposed clumsiness: slipped down the stairs, fell off his new broom. Some of Theo's stories had been more believable than others. Robards hated that he hadn't been able to do anything for this brilliant kid that clearly was being slowly killed by this father. Bloody good cursebreaker already at 18. Would love to have him for DMLE, but who would partner a Death Eater's kid?. Robards sighed and looked at Theo's torn jeans and black t-shirt.

"Muggle clothes, kid? What the bloody hell does that say?" Robards leaned in to read the word in its weird bleeding font. He choked out, "Obscurial?" Theo looked down at himself and laughed out loud.

"Its a Squib Death Metal band. Zabini and I saw them on tour in Italy a couple summers ago." Theo chuckled. " I think they mostly play for muggles. Death Metal not your thing, Gawain?"

Robards shook his head. "Honestly kid, no idea what you just said. I will be asking my muggle relations officer to explain it to me later, have no doubt. Should be better than the usual discussions we have about muggle politics. But you didn't ask me here to talk about Squib bands. So let's have it."

Theo took a swig of his coffee and Fire whiskey, setting his coffee mug on the table next to him. "So, Hogwarts is putting on a summer camp to work on rebuilding the school and I have been asked to be Head Boy." Theo's eyes lit up and Robards leaned in, proud of a kid that had been through the wringer by life. Money wasn't everything Robards reminded himself. "McGonagall wants me there at the summer camp and for me to encourage other members of my house to attend." Theo kicked himself sideways in the huge monstrosity of a chair, throwing his leg over the side arm and leaned back with his neck on the other armrest looking up at the ceiling sighing. "So I won't be able to slice myself up for wards here once I leave, I can leave a few vials of blood, but honestly I would prefer if you could just increase the size of the DMLE team so we could get all the Dark artifacts and curses off the place before I go." Theo was still staring at the ceiling and had started kicking his leg nervously. Robards remembered that from his interviews of the kid at Mungos. It was so hard not to see a terrified, underweight 8 year old when he looked at Theodore Nott despite the fact that he was clearly a young man now.

Gawain Robards let out a breath he hadn't known that he was holding. " Well that's less of a pain in the arse than I was imagining. One of my other teams just finished dealing with an issue with rogue werewolves on the Isle of Man and I can have them join the crew by this afternoon. I also have Bill Weasley starting with the department tomorrow as a cursebreaker not attached to a team." Theo looked surprised at Robards. They'd really send a Weasley here to Nott Manor? "Bill is a consummate professional. He has worked for Gringotts for years and given the number of Goblin spells we have been untangling in this …."

"Den of iniquity? Haven of Darkness? Lair of Evil?" Theo suggested, grinning.

"House." Robards finished, scowling. "The library is my biggest concern and obviously the two remaining wings. If you will be at Hogwarts until the holidays, the house will be shut up and thus a danger to noone. We would of course put DMLE wards up to keep...undesirables out while you were at Hogwarts."

Theo snorted and knocked back the last of his coffee, reveling in the delightful burn. "You mean any of my fathers cohorts who escaped time in Azkaban, yeah? But fair enough, I don't want those arseholes getting their muddy prints on my rugs. They are antique, you know." Theo winked and Robards rolled his eyes.

Robards stood up and took his leave. " You will excuse me, Nott, I need to arrange for the increased staffing." He looked meaningfully at Theo. " I am certain that other members of your house will be present at Hogwarts this summer. At least two Auror escorts are in the works." Theo started so suddenly that he almost fell out of the chair. His eyes gleamed with something Robards thought might be hope. Robards tossed powder in the Floo and walked back through to his office in the DMLE startling his secretary, Genevieve, who was laying out files and coffee on his desk and wondered why the look in the kid's eyes had made him want to cry. Getting bloody soft in my old age.

Pansy

Flashback, Malfoy Manor

December 22, 1997

Pansy was so fucked. How was she going to hold it together? She had pissed her father off by refusing to accept a marriage contract to one of his associates, Corban fucking Yaxley, old enough to be her father and who had already buried three wives. He had killed them. Pansy knew it. Her father fucking knew it. And now in punishment for refusing to be a biddable little whore, she was working as a snatcher in the Dark Lord's service. Her father was sure this would get her to comply and behave herself at the wedding which she was sure Posy Parkinson was continuing to plan for after graduation.

At least Pansy hadn't had to take the Mark yet. She'd seen Draco briefly upstairs before dragging her muggleborn captive down here to the dungeon. He looked like death, like he hadn't slept in months. He barely acknowledged that he knew her as his father told her to take the unlucky wizard that she had to the dungeon. Lucius looked worse than Draco if that was possible and didn't seem like he recognized her either, but in his case Pansy suspected he might be drunk. His eyes were sunken and you could cut yourself on his cheekbones he looked so gaunt.

Maybe it was for the best. Pansy sure as hell didn't want to get any closer to the Dark Lord's inner circle than she already was, but Merlin, she missed her friends: Draco, Theo, Blaise. She didn't really miss her ex-girlfriend Daphne, their breakup last June, at the end of 6th year, had been nuclear. A year of dating was thrown over because Daph's mom suspected, didn't even know for sure. Daphne was so far in the closet that that closet was probably in a damn dungeon as dark as this dank hellhole under Malfoy Manor. Pansy nearly slipped in a puddle of unknown origin and shuddered.

As she shoved her wandless Confunded captive into one of the cells in the dungeon and locked them in, Pansy heard a voice she knew and stopped dead.

A beautiful lilting voice sang "Weasley cannot save a thing, He cannot block a single ring, That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King." The song wafted from one of the larger cells towards the end of the cell row.

"Luna?" Pansy squeaked. How the hell had Luna gotten taken to Draco's fucking dungeon. She was a halfblood, not a muggleborn. Fuck fuck fuck. Had her father done this as another punishment? Did he know about her thing with the little Ravenclaw stunner in 5th year? Pansy's thoughts were a riot of worry and fear. Had Daphne told about Luna to get back at her?

"Pansy?" Luna called back in her sing-songy voice. And Pansy could hear the sound of someone standing up in the larger cell and shuffling towards the front. Pansy stifled a cry when she saw Luna's face. It was bruised. There were splatters of blood on her clothes. Pansy's bottom lip started to quiver, she felt herself begin to hyperventilate. Luna rushed to the bars and grabbed Pansy's hand in hers. Pansy didn't even realize she had run down the hall.

" Pansy! Pansy! You are going to attract every wrackspurt in this dungeon if you don't calm down! You need to breathe! It's not my blood. It's not my blood Pansy. Pansy! Look at my face Pansy!" Luna was staring into Pansy's face, where tears were running down her cheeks.

"Pansy," Luna whispered, " they don't know about us. They don't know. I stabbed one of the Death Eaters when they pulled me off the train a few days ago. They took me because of what my father was writing about You-Know-Who in The Quibbler." Luna's fingertips brushed Pansy's cheek. "This isn't your fault. I am okay. I am just a hostage to ensure good behavior. I will be fine. If you kill a hostage that you take to in order to ensure good behavior, then by rights you guarantee bad behavior and that future hostage taking won't work as a deterrent."

Pansy leaned into Luna's hand as Luna cupped her cheek. Merlin, Luna was always so comfortingly analytical. Sodding Ravenclaw. "Luna, you shouldn't be comforting me when you are the one in the fucking cage…" Pansy whispered into her skin.

The drip drip of the dungeon was suddenly punctuated by heavy footfall coming down the stairs. Pansy turned toward the sudden sound and Luna pulled her hand back, but not fast enough because their new company looked disgusted and spit on the ground in their direction.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Corban Yaxley snarled. " If it isn't my reluctant bride getting friendly with a blood traitor." Pansy's eyes widened in fear and Luna stepped back from her as Pansy spun around with her wand out. Yaxley disarmed her with a non verbal charm and grabbed Pansy by the throat, slamming her against the stone wall next to the bars of Luna's cell. Pansy felt blood on the back of her head and neck. "Consorting with a filthy little blood traitor. Your father will be so displeased, and I will be withdrawing my formal interest, but first I think I will sample what you have while our legal understanding is still in place." Pansy was choking. Her vision was starting to black out around the edges. Her feet were dangling. She was scratching at his arms but he had some kind of gauntlets on under his robes and she couldn't find skin.

"Diffindo" Yaxley sliced the bottom of her robes off exposing the bottom of her body to the cold dungeon air, she felt cuts on her stomach and hips. His spell had been sloppy. Perhaps he just wanted her to bleed. Pansy could hear someone screaming as she started to lose consciousness and thought it must be Luna screaming her name. This fucker is going to rape me and kill me. Refusing to marry him didn't save me. Damn. And with that final thought Pansy lost consciousness as Luna sobbed hysterically in her cell.

Hours later, Pansy slowly woke up on the cold stone floor to every single part of her body hurting and Draco kneeling over her.

"Pans? Pans?" Draco choked out a sob. "Please don't be dead."

Pansy's throat hurt so much she couldn't say anything. She let out a small gasp and he exhaled. She met his frantic silver eyes for a moment and he looked away. Draco hissed at the black and blue marks on her neck.

"I am gonna get you out of here yeah? I am gonna apparate you to my mother's private bath and we are gonna get you cleaned up. I am so fucking sorry Pansy. I am so sorry. I am gonna get you out of here." Pansy looked down and realized that the bottom half of her robes were gone and her legs were covered in her blood. Pansy's last thought was Luna wasn't crying anymore. Then she fainted.