Chapter 11
A blanket of fog crept over Draco’s mind, numbing his worries and anxieties. There had been loud, terrifying noises. They were muffled now, so quiet Draco could hardly hear them. Spells zipped and zinged around the room, but Draco’s eyes couldn’t focus on movement that fast. He embraced the blissful calm of unawareness. A smile tugged at his lips. He was so happy to be at ease.
“Draco, come here,” Hal commanded.
Draco’s smile grew larger. It felt so good to trust in someone else to know what was best for him. It was such a relief to tune out everything else. The shouts and the spell casting were little more than white noise drowned out by the immense calm that came from obedience. Draco had eyes only for Hal, who held his gaze as Draco walked steadily closer. Hal cast a shield spell around Draco, further insulating Draco from the exterior world. Draco felt so safe.
Hal grabbed Draco’s shoulder as soon as he was nearby and yanked him close. The pain was fleeting, Draco didn’t even remember it had happened. His world had shrunk down to the comfort of Hal’s warmth and how safe he felt protected by Hal’s magic.
“Cast one more spell and I’ll kill him,” Hal bellowed. Draco felt Hal’s wand shoved up against his neck. Draco sighed, blissfully. Hal would keep him safe, or Hal would need him for something else. He was helping Hal. Draco leaned against the older man, who wrapped a comforting arm around him, even with the wand still held against him threateningly. Then they were moving, Hal pulling a stumbling Draco away from the shouting and the noise. “Kill them,” Hal commanded on his way out.
The words weren’t meant for Draco, but hearing them was enough to draw Draco’s attention to the room he was about to be pulled out of. A dozen witches and wizards had Potter and Weasley surrounded. Draco gripped his own wand tightly, menacing spells learned long ago on the tip of his tongue as he contemplated the command to kill them. The thought tore through his mental fog, revealing the vast terror still bubbling deep inside Draco. He didn’t want Potter to die.
The witch next to him began to cast, “Avada K-” but Draco wrenched himself out of the grip holding him and threw himself against the witch.
The unexpected attack halted the witch’s spell, and knocked her into another caster, blocking that person’s efforts as well. Draco began to cast, shouting, “Confundo!” at any and every person he could target, causing mayhem.
“Imperio!” was cast again, and again Draco felt a bolt of power course through his body. He collapsed after, breathing hard as the mind fog returned and he forgot his struggles.
Someone yanked on him. Draco lifted his head and saw Hal without recognizing the anger on his face. Draco smiled joyously. Hal was here. Hal yanked at his arm again, and Draco stumbled to his feet, unaware of the battle raging around him as he once again followed after Hal.
Draco had no sense of time. His awareness had shrunk down to the feeling of Hal’s grip on his wrist, squeezing bruises into his skin. The tightness of the grip might have hurt, but all Draco could recognize was that Hal was committed to keeping Draco close to him and safe.
Together, they passed through what didn’t look like a door until they walked through it. Then they were in a small, dark and dusty room without windows or other doors. Hal shoved Draco to the side, releasing him so that Hal could begin collecting things and shoving them into a midsized leather bag.
Hal grumbled as he worked. “You’re proving quite a disappointment, Draco.”
Draco whimpered at the words. Hal was his world and he was failing him.
Hal scoffed. “You fooled me with that kicked puppy look before, but now I see what Chester meant about you. You’re completely untrustworthy.”
Draco was shaking his head. The words caused him to ache, but his mind was so numb he could hardly remember. He could always remember how much he wanted to please hal. He yearned for it. “I’ll be better,” Draco insisted. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
Hal stopped packing for a moment, his gaze shifting to Draco, lingering on him. “If only you meant that,” Hal said. “Life would be much easier for you if you meant that.” His eyes narrowed. “But instead of doing what I say, you’re willing to throw your life away for that revolting auror. How can you lift a finger for him after what he did to you?”
Draco stood awkwardly, trying to piece together the meaning of Hal’s words. He wanted to be good and answer him. “I asked Harry to leave. I want him to leave me alone,” Draco said.
Hal made a hmm noise. “How can I believe that when you choose Potter over me? You’re even calling him Harry now. You should want to kill him, after everything. Why didn’t you help kill him?”
Emotions were roiling under the surface of Draco’s mind, but Draco didn’t want to feel them. He wanted to stay in the safe calm space Hal had made for him where he could be happy. Draco knew, though, he’d only be allowed to be happy if he could give Hal what he wanted. He did his best to try.
“I was… I was cruel, when I was young. It, um, well, I was told it was okay. It wasn’t okay to be sad or scared, but it was okay to hurt people. It became a defense mechanism for me, especially when the war started and I was scared all the time. My walls were so strong you couldn’t break them with legilimens or veritaserum. I think Harry is like that. It can be easier to put up walls and take your pain out on other people than make yourself vulnerable to it. You can’t trust someone like that, all they’ll do is hurt you. I don’t trust Harry. I guess I’m just holding out hope that I can be forgiven for the selfish, horrible things I did, which means there’s hope that Harry could be forgiven, too. I don’t know, everything feels strange right now. I’m happier not thinking about it, please can I not think about it?”
Hal’s smile was thin and disapproving. “I think that would be for the best. Forget everything you know about Harry Potter.”
The pain that crawled into Draco’s brain hurt bad enough that there was no forgetting it. Memories were pulled from Draco. The sting of rejection, when Harry refused his friendship. The deep resentment of Harry stealing the class cup prize. The jealousy of Harry being picked first, always special. The drive of needing to prove himself, be it in potions or at quidditch, or through intricate spellwork to make silly badges to mock his nemesis. The terror of being under pressure from the dark lord, made worse by Harry’s constant surveillance. What it felt like to be relieved to know he was going to die, bleeding out on a bathroom floor, instead of at the Dark Lord’s hands. What it had meant to be brave and lie to his family for the slim hope that Harry might save him. How he never lost that hope, even years later when Harry came back into his life with confusing intensity. Harry meant hope that things could be better.
Draco tore out of the spell again, choosing the pain and terror of reality over the imperius curse’s promise of serenity without hope. Draco collapsed again, a shaking panic, even though he knew he needed to run.
“Imperio!” Hal cast again, well practiced now.
The cloud blanketed Draco once more. Draco fought it, fought to regain his sense of self. Shivering and sweating, he broke free again.
“Imperio!”
Draco sunk in on himself, his mind aching and tired and in pain. If he sat quiet the pain faded. He couldn’t remember what he had been fighting. He felt a tug in his gut, summoning Draco to look up. There was Hal, standing over him. Draco felt such relief to see him, and a warm smile broke out across his face.
Hal reached for him, pulling Draco to his feet. Unsteady, Draco leaned against the other man again. Hal welcomed it, his arms embracing Draco. Hal raised a hand to Draco’s face, tilting his head backwards. Hal smirked, then leaned in to kiss Draco. The kiss was hard and demanding. Hal shoved his tongue in, mapping Draco’s mouth. Draco stood still, accepting but not reciprocating. Hal pulled back just long enough to say, “Kiss me. Desire me.” Then Draco did. Desire flamed in his belly, catching his breath and making his knees weak. When Hal kissed him this time Draco surged into it. Draco opened his mouth eagerly, stroking his tongue against Hal’s and moaning. His clung to Hal’s chest, plastering his body against the older man’s. Hal pulled back on Draco’s hair, yanking his head back so Hal could access Draco’s neck. Hal sucked and bit bruises into Draco’s skin. Hal’s other hand dipped to Malfoy’s ass, pulling him tight against the older man’s body.
Draco realized what was happening when he felt Hal’s erection grind against him. Nausea reared up in Draco and he shoved the older man away. Hal let him go, chuckling. Draco stumbled back from him, once again shuddering and panicked. He turned away and bent over, dry heaving. There was nothing left in his stomach, not since this happened before. Horror dawned on Draco as he remembered Hal’s curse taking over his mind over and over again since he’d been brought here. It took rejecting an extreme order for Draco to find the strength to break out of the imperius. Hal had tested the limits, repeatedly Draco’s throat had been burned from dry heaving bile and not given time to heal.
Hal was still laughing at him. “We’re getting closer, Draco. Before long you won’t be able to break it,” he said. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out how tired he was. He didn’t want to remember how last night he broke free the moment Hal ordered him to kiss him, and now… he was losing himself.
Hal cast imperio again, while Draco was cowering on the floor. Draco calmed instantly. He stayed where he was while Hal resumed packing. Time meant nothing to Draco. It could have been a minute or an hour, he could have contentedly sat there until he was so weak and dehydrated that he died.
Hal finished packing and snapped at Draco to get his attention. Draco stood up obediently and walked to him. Hal ordered him to carry the bag, and then dragged Draco behind him as he charged back towards the door.
Hal tried to leave the room, but behind the door was a boundary spell that hadn’t been there when they entered. Someone had found them. Hal yanked on Malfoy again, this time shoving him forward into the magical wall to test it. Malfoy didn’t so much as yelp when he was flung into the barrier. It prevented his passing through, but didn’t cause pain. Hal growled as he raised his wand to cast at the barrier.
Light exploded behind the two men. Draco looked up just in time to see a bright, silvery, translucent owl fly out of the room and down the hallway. Draco stared after it even as Hal turned and began casting spells back into the room. Books exploded off the shelves and furniture was blasted into the air as Hal attacked the empty space. A confringo curse hit a lamp near Draco, exploding the glass into large pieces that lashed out across the room. Several hit Draco, tearing deep cuts across his back and shoulders. Draco’s mind was too cloudy to feel the pain. He felt something warm on his skin, though, and lifted his arm to see quite a lot of blood.
Draco’s movements distracted Hal from his frantic spellwork. His eyes were on Draco as his final confringo exploded a bookshelf, the books bouncing off empty air nearby. Draco tilted his head, nonplussed. Then Hal was next to him, casting healing charms, and Draco all but forgot he saw anything.
The silver owl flew back into the room. Hal jumped to his feet, spinning left and right to cast more extreme curses. Two men in crimson auror robes burst into the room not long after the owl, wands out and firing. Hal swore. He grabbed for Draco, who stood up on instinct so Hal could more easily reach him. Draco was pulled in front of the older man, once again a human shield. “Stay back! Cast one spell and I’ll kill him!”
Both aurors paused, but didn’t lower their wands or move out of the way of the door.
Draco felt a sudden urge to hurt them. He pulled out his own wand and started casting hexes and jinxes. His movements were jerky and unnatural, weakening the casting, but the auror’s still had to raise shields to fend them off. Draco took a step forward, leading Hal closer to the doorway. The red-headed auror grew frustrated with defense and cast a disarming spell at Draco. Hal used his own wand to block it, then turned the wand on Draco and cast.
The spell slapped Draco across the face, leaving behind a sharp piercing pain. The pain radiated across his cheek and over his nose. Draco’s mind kept trying to mute it, but the cut smarted and kept Draco’s attention. He felt his blood flow from the cut, sliding down his face. Draco flicked his tongue out. He could taste his own blood on his lips.
Hal’s wand dug into his throat. The aurors froze, wands half lowered in hesitation.
A new intent to harm the aurors overcame Draco, who lifted his wand again. His movements were clunkier this time, half the spells didn’t cast. The auror’s blocked them all easily, but didn’t risk advancing.
A spell flew wildly off track. Draco watched it explode against air, instead of the broken shelf behind it. It reminded him of something, but his head ached when he tried to remember what. His eyes slid back to the aurors, settling on the dark haired man with a thin face. He didn’t recognize him. Only, he recognized there was something familiar about something invisible, and maybe also the jagged scar hiding under the man’s floppy hair.
Hal had walked Draco over to the doorway. There was no barrier to be seen, but Hal tilted his wand just a little to cast a detection charm to be sure. Both auror’s pounced at once, casting aggressively so that Hal was prevented from harming Draco by the need to shield.
“Expelliarmus!” the dark haired auror shouted. A memory broke through Draco’s mind of that voice saying those words in the past.
“Confundo!” Cast the other one. His spell hit the wall right over Draco’s shoulder, as close to Draco as could be without striking true.
Draco jerked away from the spell. He pulled at Hal’s grasp of his shoulder, breaking loose. He dropped to the ground, scrambling away from the fighting.
“Useless,” he heard Hal sneer between castings. “Can’t even dodge a spell.”
Draco huddled on the floor, gasping in terrified breaths, realizing that Hal thought he’d been bewitched with confusion. In the center of the room, Potter and Weasley were breathtaking in their skill, no longer holding back for Draco’s safety. Hal held them off, barely, but soon would have to choose between Draco and the bag he’d entrusted to him, or his freedom.
Draco clung to the floor, hardly breathing. He couldn’t hear the battle in front of him over the pounding of his heart beat. He knew, Hal - no, Selwyn - would choose to save his own skin and then he’d just be out there. Able to come back at any moment.
Draco couldn’t have that. He wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t live his life terrified of another dark wizard. He couldn’t let himself be so at risk that he’d have to rely on the aurors to keep him safe. No one had ever managed to keep him safe.
Draco lifted his wand. He wanted Selwyn dead and knew if he decided to, he would do it right this time. He wanted Selwyn to hurt, and his will would be there to charge the cruciatus curse. He wanted to take back control, and doubted Selwyn had have the determination it took to throw off an imperio the way he had forced Draco to in a desperate bid to escape his torment. He wanted all of this so badly his heart ached.
Draco didn’t stop himself because it was illegal. Instead he remembered the words Selwyn had forced him to say.
For so much of his life, Draco had squashed down his pain and emotions behind cruelty. It was easier to make others hurt than hurt himself. It had hurt him, though, to build up walls and take it out on others. Draco could live a long, healthy life and never come to terms with the choices he made as a youth. Although he was trying. He had to keep trying. Part of trying was to not make the same mistakes again.
So instead of a curse, Draco cast a counter charm. From his angle, he hit Selwyn’s shield spell head on. It shattered at the impact. The spells the aurors had been casting finally got through, ensnaring Selwyn completely in their magic.
Weasley cast another spell to ensure Selwyn was out cold, but Potter had already moved on. Potter ran to where Draco huddled. Draco had dropped his wand and was once again shaking.
“Malfoy! Are you alright? C’mon, talk to me Malfoy,” Potter cajoled. He gathered Draco’s shaking hands in his own, squeezing them reassuringly. Or maybe just out of stress, Draco couldn’t tell.
“Not too shabby, boys,” came another familiar voice. Malfoy jerked sideways, his eyes scanning the room where the voice came from. He watched Auror Campbell pull off Potter’s invisibility cloak. “Honestly, I thought you were going to bollock this one up.” She strode over to Selwyn’s unconscious body. “We got the fucker. Backup is on the way, and he’ll be taken off for a long time.” She glanced over at Draco, then pointed at the bag he was still holding. “Give me that, would you?”
Draco would not, as it turned out, but only because he wasn’t up to standing. Auror Campbell got it for herself, patting him on the shoulder consolingly as she did so. She made a few more underhanded comments about Selwyn, but, after side eyeing the two other aurors, she didn’t express her full feelings on the matter. Instead, she patted Draco’s shoulder again and promised to follow up with him at a better time.
A better time wasn’t soon on the horizon. Backup did come, giving Auror Campbell the chance to bark orders at even more people, all of which dutifully followed her command. Weasley stayed on the scene, yelling over Auror Campbell that he had jurisdiction as the senior auror, but Potter ignored it all and whisked Draco away as soon as he was able.
The DMLE was in chaos. The chaos allowed Potter to walk Draco past many aurors who paid no attention to the former death eater, until Potter and Draco were alone in an office with two desks and many more stacks of paperwork. Potter eased Draco into a chair. Potter grabbed a second chair, pulling it up to face opposite of Draco’s chair so they could sit in close proximity facing each other. Potter had secured an only slightly musty jumper that he wrapped around Draco’s shoulders. He’d also pulled out a medical kit. Silently and methodically, Potter cleaned and treated the cut across Draco’s face. The dittany stung when applied, but Draco didn’t so much as flench. He felt numb inside.
Gently, Potter asked about the blood drenching Draco’s shirt. Draco couldn’t remember where it had come from, but diligently unbuttoned the shirt and let Potter help pull it off. His equally blood-soaked undershirt followed. Potter hissed at the poorly healed cuts across Draco’s body. He reined in any other reaction, and once again methodically got to work. Draco was reoriented to the pain, even as Potter tried to be gentle. Potter cleaned, and more than once discovered and removed shards of glass that Selwyn had simply healed skin over. Potter ran out of dittany before the cuts were all treated. He handed Draco a blood replenishing potion when he got up to look for more. Potter came back with more potions, and extra clothing. He finished his work then helped Draco dress in something new, taking care not to disturb the bandages.
Potter took Draco’s hands then, not unlike he had at Selwyn’s manor. Potter stared down at their joined fingers, rubbing his thumb over Draco’s. It was comforting, this time. Both men felt comfortable sitting together in silence.
They sat together long enough that it grew uncomfortable to stay seated in one way. Long enough for Potter to get food and to pressure Draco into eating a few bites. Long enough for Potter to move the chair next to Draco’s so they would sit side by side, enjoying the quiet. Draco wasn’t ready to talk about anything and Potter wasn’t making him. Draco drifted into sleep, finally feeling safe.
It was familiar voices that drew the men out of Potter’s office. Weasley and Auror Campbell were shouting, but so were other people. Draco froze one step out the door as he faced too many people dressed in crimson robes.
“It’s our case,” a short-haired older woman demanded.
Weasley stood across from her, glaring. “FRAUD approved the raid. We’ve been working this for months. We had fraudulent potions, fraudulent smuggled artifacts, fraudulent aurors,” that last part was pointed at a spindly, red-faced man, “open and shut case. It’s my case and your division can suck it.”
The short-haired auror was having none of it. “Marge and Harry cracked this open. Marge was one the who discovered Don Clark was double crossing us -”
“Allegedly!” growled the spindly man.
“Definitely a double crossing snake,” the short-haired woman continued. “FRAUD needs to kindly go walk off a cliff and leave the detecting to the real aurors.”
Potter tugged at Malfoy’s arm, nodding back at the office door in invitation.
Draco didn’t want to be pulled into this either, but also…
“The probation division is above reproach!” yelled the spindly auror. There was a general chortle of laughter from all sides of the room. The auror’s face grew more red. “Without us locking up these degenerates you all wouldn’t be able to stop the crime bombarding diagon alley!”
“It’s not probation’s job to lock people up,” Draco said, louder than he meant to.
Potter gripped his arm tighter, but too late.
“You!” the spindly man said, pointing at Draco. “You belong in Azkaban!”
Laughter bubbled up out of Draco. He saw Potter palm his face in exasperation. Draco couldn’t help it. He’d known, deep down, that someone must have had it in for them. The Slytherins were cunning and resourceful, and yet every one had ended up imprisoned.
“Sure, whatever, send me to Azkabahn. But it’s not your job to lock probationers up. It’s your job to fairly and impartially monitor us to ensure we’re following the conditions of our parole. If you’re just trying to send us to jail it’s no wonder you let a brute like Auror Clark weaponize your department,” Draco said.
You could have heard a quill drop, the room was so quiet.
“Arrest him!” the spindly man finally shouted.
Potter stepped in front of Draco, physically blocking Draco with his own body. “Hold on, now. Malfoy here is working for me. I personally saw him update his probation paperwork so I know he’s in good standing. You have nothing to arrest him for.”
Draco laughed again, at the absurdity of the statement. “Potter, didn’t you hear? This fellow here doesn’t need a reason to arrest us. I belong in Azkaban.”
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Weasley barked. “Harry’s right, Malfoy’s working with us and he’s above board. He was essential to the success of this mission. Let him be.”
“I didn’t approve this,” the short haired woman said.
Harry half shrugged. “It met three of the seven circumstances outlined by Scamander in 19… well, in the handbook. Whatever, I checked the rules. I submitted the paperwork myself. It’s on your desk.”
“There is no paperwork. Draco Malfoy has broken his probationary agreement and as such must be arrested,” The probation auror was more red faced than ever.
Auror Campbell, who Draco hadn’t even seen standing behind the short haired woman spoke up then. “He sent in the paperwork, Bill. Multiple copies. You’d have it recorded if Don hadn't been too busy attacking his fellow aurors and black mailing those under his charge in order to aid and abet a criminal organization.”
“False allegations!” The auror, presumably Bill, was shouting.
Draco self sabotaged himself further by saying, “Technically, failing to properly background check your aurors, in addition to allowing the gross negligence of a probation auror abusing their position of power and black mailing the probationers, not to mention kidnapping an employee of the DMLE (which I am), breaks guidelines in at least four chapters of the auror handbook and calls for a division-wide special investigation, to include determination of whether the senior auror is competent enough to maintain their job.” Draco sucked in air after saying all of that in one breath.
“Yes,” Auror Campbell said.
“Absolutely,” Weasley added.
“Hold on, now,” the short-haired auror cautioned.
“Arrest him!” Shouted Auror… well, Draco didn’t know his title. But he didn’t feel comfortable calling him Bill.
A thought came to Draco as they shouted at each other. “Merlin, all cases managed by a corrupt auror would need to be reviewed.” Potter met his eyes as he said it, but no one else heard.
Draco was laughing when the probation auror finally did have his way and arrested Draco. It was wrong, almost everyone agreed, but the probation division officer had jurisdiction. Potter was furious. He had to be physically restrained by Weasley while Auror Campbell talked him off the ledge of trading curses with his peers. They’d find the paperwork, she insisted. They’d get Draco out. Maybe it was true, but Draco wouldn’t hold his breath waiting. They had bigger fish to fry and Draco remembered Potter’s hard stare when confronted with all impacted cases being reopened. It was questionable whether the DMLE would be bold enough to investigate an entire division, and all hell would break loose if they did.
Draco’s father had never talked about his time in Azkaban. The dementors were still there, then, sucking all joy and hope out of prisoners. Now the cells were guarded by aurors. Draco met the eyes of the first auror he saw there and was smacked in the face for his trouble. These aurors couldn’t suck the soul from your body but Draco understood they would try.
Draco was tossed unceremoniously into a cell. The room housed two beds, if you could call the moldy cots beds. Not for the last time, Draco wished he had his wands. The marvels he could transfer out of two mangy cots. This wouldn’t be so different, though, than the years in Nibill’s attic.
Someone stirred on one of the beds. The man who set up was gaunt, likely starved by the guards. His black and white striped prison garb had long since faded to two dull shades of gray. It hung off his frame in tatters. The man had grisly hair and a grislier beard.
Despite the changes, Draco would have recognized him anywhere.
“Greg?” Draco whispered.
The man began crying. Draco crept to him, making soothing noises as he approached. Close now, Draco knew for certain it was his friend. He wrapped his arms around Greg and held him tight.
Through his sobs, Greg managed to say, “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re the best of us, I thought you’d be able to stay out.”
Draco shhed him. “I missed you too much, Greg,” he only half lied. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with you.” It was true, when Greg gained the strength to wrap his arms around Draco. Someone out there loved him unconditionally. Being trapped in this hellscape was a small price to pay for knowing he wasn’t alone.