Broken Toy

Warnings: angst…
Author's Notes:
Ah, I’m so happy to post chap 11 at last. Just got it back from my lovely beta-lady, and I hurried off to post it.

I’m looking forward to your remarks… *hops up and down*

Enjoy!

ETA: Hey, Marille, your last comment inspired me. *g* You were absolutely right. Draco had to utter some snide remarks!


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Chapter Eleven

“Did you get yourself a dinner jacket or something like it?”

The sudden address made Draco flinch involuntarily. These last few days the two of them had hardly spoken. Sure, they had been polite to each other, but they had been cautious not to look directly into each other’s eyes. And they had been very successfully avoiding any physical contact.

However, Potter had been watching him all the time; Draco had been sensing the thoughtful stare more than actually seeing it.

“Aren’t you listening?”

Could Draco detect a note of impatience? The direct question demanded a prompt answer. “Of course I’ve got a dinner suit !“ Although Draco felt like he should be shouting, he was calmly addressing the breakfast table with a pointedly indignant manner.

“Fine!” Potter almost yelled. With his voice more self-controlled, he added, “Tonight’s Ginny’s birthday party. Her birthday was on Thursday actually, but… Well. She always likes to celebrate with loads of friends. That’s why she was here the other day. The Burrow is a little bit cramped for a big party.” A casual shrug accompanied Potter’s next words. “It has become a habit that she celebrates her birthday parties at Grimmauld Place. You know. My house in London…” Could Draco detect a bit of uneasiness?

“Well, be that as it may, she asks me every year.” Now why did that sound so apologetic? “I accepted her request, of course.”

“Of course.” Draco’s eyes reduced to wicked slits. “You would accept any request of her, wouldn’t you?” Draco was delighted that his voice dripped with contemptuousness.

“What do you mean?” Potter fired back.

Draco let his lip curl up into the best sneer he could muster. “Oh, nothing special…” Slowly he raised his eyes to Potter, smirking broadly. “So she came over to ask you for your town house? I thought she came over to ask you for a quick, good old fuck.”

Draco was fascinated by the rapid change of colour on Potter’s face. The sudden paleness was soon replaced by a deep reddening, but the impassive expression on Potter’s face didn’t change. Only his eyes widened a bit.

“You saw us.” It was more a statement than a question.

Draco raised one eyebrow. “As expected…” The slight drawl in his voice came naturally. He tilted his head to one side.

Harry kept on staring hard at him, as if waiting for him to proceed.

“I thought that’s why you left the door wide open. For me to see! ” With satisfaction Draco noticed Harry’s nostrils flaring. He had to add a little bit more.

“I assumed you intended some kind of demonstration. Something like proving that you’re at least able to please your little worshipper. Well, I have to admit, I wasn’t much impressed… Although she seemed to be very enthusiastic. It’s a pity you always beat it when it comes down to some serious fucking.”

They stared at each other for a long time.

As much as Draco tried, he couldn’t read Potter’s expression. During the last week, he had learned a lot about Potter and his variations of behaviour. Draco had eagerly filed away in his memory every little reaction of Potter’s body and face, and he had learned that if he wanted to find out more about Potter’s feelings, he had to study the vivid eyes closely.

But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t detect anything in those bright emerald eyes. Shit.

Draco was proud to remain motionless when Potter finally stood up. He observed the other carefully adjusting fork and knife on his plate with the half-eaten scrambled eggs. Following Potter’s every movement, Draco was disappointed that Potter’s hands weren’t shaking, although his chest heaved more deeply than necessary.

“Sorry, but I have to beat it again. I’ll be gone the whole day, as far as I can see. The birthday party will start about 8 p.m. I would like you to accompany me. It’s likely we’ll meet some Ministry officials who can help with your re-wizardisation. I would very much appreciate it if you could be ready some time before eight.”

Potter was almost through the kitchen door, when he added, “And be sure to look presentable.”

Draco couldn’t help but admire Potter’s self-control.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tee-he-rip tee-he-rip tee-he-rip. Draco had to stop his fingers from hitting the kitchen table in the same idiotic rhythm again and again.

A quarter past seven and still no sign of Potter.

Draco had spent the whole afternoon bathing, manicuring, and brushing his hair until it shone. With care he had dressed, starting with his new green silk boxers. These were his special boxers, chosen for a special day. Or night. They were a little bit tight. But Draco liked the feeling of the soft fabric on his arse; it felt like a second skin.

It had been fun to slowly slip into the black evening trousers; they fit perfectly. The belt was unnecessary, but a lovely accessory. He put on the new, pure white shirt with the same care he’d taken with the trouser. It felt good on his bare chest, just as he had imagined it would feel, and he had enjoyed closing up every button. With the same slow deliberation he had adjusted his bow tie, and he finished dressing by throwing on his long, black, evening jacket.

Perfect. But…

Be sure to look presentable.

With a sigh, Draco had braided his long silvery hair into a single plait.

He had posed a long time in front of the bathroom mirror, until he had convinced himself he looked perfect.

That had been an hour ago.

Tee-he-rip tee-he-rip tee-he-rip. Since then he had been sitting at the kitchen table, waiting impatiently.

Twenty minutes past seven, and still no sign of Potter.

To be honest, Draco was a little bit nervous. He was to meet old Hogwarts pals again. He wasn’t sure whom the Weasel-bitch called her friends nowadays, but he was convinced he would meet a few Slytherins at the party. Maybe even one of his former friends, one who had shut the door in front of Draco’s nose when he had been in need of support more than anything. One of those friends who had switched sides when the going got tough.

Tee-he-rip tee-he-rip tee-he-rip. Half past seven. Maybe he should get himself something to drink? No, bad idea. He would only need to pee. It wouldn’t do to sneer down at a traitor with a full bladder.

Tee-he-rip tee-he-rip tee-he-rip.

CRACK.

So Potter Apparated at last.

Tee-he-rip tee-he-rip tee-he-rip.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After what seemed like hours, but actually only took about twenty minutes, Potter tore open the kitchen door.

Standing beside the kitchen table at the ready, Draco gaped at the unfamiliar figure in front of him. Potter, in a similar black evening dress and cloak, chin well-shaven, unruly hairs brushed back down his head, stared at him with his eyes opened wide.

Suddenly all too conscious of his clumsy body, Draco noticed Potter’s eyes wandering all over him.

“You -- look good.” As if he couldn’t believe what he had said, Potter shook his head and grabbed Draco roughly on his upper arm.

Draco had to snicker whilst they were Apparating. He was sure Potter’s perfect hairstyle was gone the minute they arrived. But he wouldn’t have wanted anything else.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sitting comfortably in an armchair beside Hermione, one hand resting loosely on his thigh, the other holding his glass of beer, Harry let his eyes wander about the crammed living room. Ron was talking animatedly with Neville, obviously wanting to convince him of something. Dean, trying to hide unsuccessfully behind one of the curtains, was busily engaged with snogging Demelza. And Justin, Justin was really trying to chat up Parvati, even though everybody knew she was still head over heals in love with Zacharias Smith, although no one knew why! Ernie Macmillan was grinning idiotically like always. Now who was his victim? Luna. Well, nothing to worry about. Luna knew her way! Seamus was….

Seamus. Instantly something cold enclosed Harry’s insides. He had never forgotten certain details, and now the vivid memory of them was nearly suffocating him. The Irishman was joking with the twins. Who else. One deep breath should calm Harry’s sudden flash of anger. Breathing consciously, his eyes immediately searched for Malfoy. He could make out his tall figure near the living room door, speaking to Zabini. Why, of all people, did Malfoy have to talk to this git? Harry didn’t like that; he didn’t like that at all. His eyes flashed towards Seamus and the twins again. Obviously they were having a good joke, gesturing in Malfoy’s direction. At once Harry’s hand clutched his glass tight. Too tight.

“You’ve got to stop this!”

“Huh?”

Hermione was talking to him, but Harry had difficulty grasping what she was saying. “Stop! What?”

His heart missed a beat. Had she been watching him? Had she been following his eyes? Did she know that he had been staring at Malfoy?

“Do you never grow up?”

“What???” Flabbergasted, Harry turned his full attention towards Hermione.

“Again doing the saviour thing?”

Harry gaped, open-mouthed, at his best friend.

“Harry, you’ve really got to stop this. All these maimed creatures… You’re happy when you can get another one in your shelter, right? And now Malfoy. Honestly!”

Harry raised one eyebrow. “What do you mean, exactly?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hermione was shaking her head. “Another pet you took into your custody, another broken soul you think you have to heal? Harry, love, it’s time to think about yourself! Not others.” She reached out and took his beer-free hand in hers.

“Darling.” She pressed his hand, hard. “Harry. Please. Start to think about yourself. Get yourself healed. Get married. Have a family.”

Damn. Why was Hermione always so persistent? She should focus her attention on Ron and her twins and leave him alone. He was doing quite all right, thank you very much. Harry blinked his eyes rapidly. Where was he? Ah, still over there, talking with Zabini.

“What are you waiting for? Ginny’s all too ready. “

Harry’s eyebrow twitched just slightly when he witnessed Zabini pushing Malfoy’s fringe out of his eyes.

“But I guess you’re not ready…”

Zabini was talking far too enthusiastically with Malfoy, and Harry could see Draco responding in an agitated way, his grey eyes sparkling.

“Harry???”

Harry put his glass of beer onto the nearby table, ready to get up, when a soft hand held him back.

“Harry!”

“WHAT?” Harry couldn’t remember the last time Hermione had gotten on his nerves like that.

A timid voice started: “Or is it… I mean… I always wondered….”

“For heaven’s sake, Hermione, just spit it out!” Harry interrupted impatiently. With astonishment he noticed her face redden, but Hermione wouldn’t be Hermione if she didn’t say what she had intended to say. After taking a deep breath, her next words came out rapidly.

“I always wondered why you never married Ginny. You’ve said you love her. And there was a time when the two of you were very close, but then you broke it up. Afterwards, there never was another girl. And don’t tell me now it’s because what’s happened with Professor Snape. That’s years ago now. There’s another reason. Harry.” Hermione took another deep breath. “Can it be that you -- that you prefer -- that you feel attracted to…”

“FUCK, HERMIONE!“

Harry’s voice went down the second he noticed everybody was staring at him.

“What, if…” Harry tried to calm down. He had to try explaining to his best friend. Would she understand what he couldn’t?

“What if…” Harry’s eyes wandered about Hermione’s flustered face dreamily. “What if I can’t stop thinking about him? What if I really feel attracted to a man? More than to a woman? Would it be that horrible? I mean, would it change anything? Would I be less of a man? Would I be less respected? I’ve been wondering a lot… And somehow I don’t give a fuck.”

Harry never noticed Hermione flinching. And he never really listened to her answer.

His eyes were searching for Draco.

His heart missed a beat. He couldn’t find him. He hectically scanned the overcrowded room, but he couldn’t make out the long, silvery braid of the tall man. Instantly his heart started to pound hot blood through his veins, flushing his face and neck.

His eyes searched the room again. But Draco was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Zabini, nor Seamus and the twins.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After the discussion with Zabini, which had been altogether unpleasant, Draco felt the urgent impulse to be alone. One quick glance across the room convinced him that Potter was still in a discussion with that Granger woman. No, he corrected himself; it was Weasley now.

Although something inside him told him to walk over and sit silently beside Potter, Draco left the living room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry felt like he was at war again. The constant feeling that something was amiss nearly suffocated him. His body reacted immediately with the common outpour of sweat while adrenaline shot through his body.

Something definitely felt wrong.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco found his way downwards to the kitchen.

He never noticed that he was being followed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Little droplets of sweat were building on Harry’s forehead. He would have liked to get rid of Hermione’s hands clinging to his jacket and run off to search for Draco, but politeness demanded he behave nicely and to try to listen attentively to what Hermione had to say to him. Her words never reached his brain.

His heart was beating at double speed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco poured himself a glass of champagne; he hadn’t drunk any alcohol in what seemed like ages. Now, being alone in the kitchen, seemed to be an opportunity to soothe down his excitement. All those people. All those memories. The hand with the glass of champagne was quivering slightly.

But, apart from Zabini, everybody had been exceptionally polite. No, Draco couldn’t complain. But, on the other hand, he still felt…

“Malfoy!”

“So nice to meet you again!”

“Quite a good idea to come here!”

“Where we are alone…”

“…just the four of us!”

“Say, did you miss us?”

Draco whirled around. Too late. Seamus, Fred and George were grinning malevolently at him.

The flute with champagne, still full, shattered into a hundred pieces when it hit the ground.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not caring about being rude any more (it was Hermione, after all), Harry pushed her hands away.

He was absolutely sure that whatever caused his upset stomach had to do with Draco.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco’s naked body was sprawled halfway on the kitchen table. They had made him kneel upon two stools, legs wide apart, bum high up in the air. One of the twins had nailed his braid with a knife to the table to adjust his head on the edge of it. It was so he could blow better, they had said.

All of his limbs felt weak, almost numb. His heart was beating fast, but felt hollow.

He had tried to run, to fight, to get away. But he had given in eventually. It had been what Seamus had said when they had cornered him down. And the way he had said it, with a knowing smile, Draco was sure it was the truth.

“Now don’t act like a little virgin. What do you think you’re here for? Harry promised to bring you along as the dessert.”

No, not that. Please. Not Harry.

From far away delighted snickers were reaching his ears.

“Harry told us to do whatever we please with you, Malfoy. Maybe, later on, he will join us. To watch, you know…” Cracking laughter followed.

So those were the kinks that made Potter scream…

When he was forced to swallow Fred’s hard cock, Draco told himself that it was nothing new, nothing he hadn’t done before. He didn’t really feel the pain when the redhead was ramming his prick far down his throat. Nor did he twitch when a ribbon was administered around his balls and somebody tugged at it, hard. He started to moan when he felt the skin on his back split open by the constant beating of something leathery.

He could keep control until he felt something hard, long and wooden penetrating his anus.

Cries no one could hear formed in his mouth.

Silent tears fell down when he pressed his eyes closely together. He escaped to the farthest corner of his mind where no one could find him and no one could touch him.

They could hurt his body, but they could never hurt his soul.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry knew what to expect before he forcefully kicked the kitchen door open. It took him one second to take in the scene in front of him.

Immediately, his vision blurred.

Hot rage shot through his insides like a lightening bolt. An all-consuming fury spread through every single cell of his body, and he started to shake violently. No breathing technique could help him now.

It was too late.

The last coherent thought commanded him to cast the Mufliato spell, before he lost control completely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was warm. And it was getting hotter every minute.

Although Draco was hidden somewhere far away, he could feel that something had changed. Temperatures around him definitely had risen. And he noticed something else. The beating had stopped. The ramming had stopped. The laughter had stopped.

Instead… they were begging. Pleading like Draco had pleaded just a few moments before.

“Please…”

“No, Harry, please, listen…”

“Nothing to get exited about.”

“He’s just a whore, remember?”

“Hey, mate, now, take it easy…”

“Calm down, won’t you? Please?”

“You wouldn’t… YOU WOULDN’T….”

“NOOOO!”

Draco opened his eyes.

Harry was standing in the middle of the kitchen. So he came to watch at last…

But why were they shrieking? Why was it so hot? Why was Harry’s hair standing up in all directions, as if electrified? Why was he pointing his wand at him? Why was he shaking all over? Why…

Sudden fear stopped his hectic thinking.

This wasn’t Harry. This couldn’t be Harry.

The person pretending to be Harry didn’t have the handsome features he knew so well. And he was taller, much taller than Harry was.

The contorted face turned around, and huge emerald eyes bore into his. Draco’s heart missed a beat. So that’s what it looked like when…

The wand inside Harry’s hand twitched. The ribbon around Draco’s balls was gone, and the knife holding Draco’s head to the table was gone, too. Draco heard a surprised whelp of pain somewhere behind him.

Trying to get to his feet, Draco wondered why Harry was wriggling out of his jacket. One second later, the jacket was enclosing his bleeding and shivering body.

“Under the table. QUICK!!!” Harry’s shouted command made Draco react immediately. Pain shot through his limbs as Draco tried to move, but he obeyed at once and as fast as he could.

The second Draco hid beneath the furniture, havoc broke.

Every piece of glass and china in the kitchen simply exploded. Pots and pans were shooting through the air like missiles, every now and then bumping against the walls with a loud crash. It was raining pieces of glass, and Draco was thankful of the shelter the table provided him. The still increasing heat of the room made Draco sweat, although his insides felt cold with fear. Instinctively, Draco pulled Harry’s jacket over his head and buried it between his arms. He pulled his legs as close to his body as possible; he didn’t want to expose himself as a probable target.

The noise reaching his ears was almost deafening. Still glass was shattering, wood was splintering, walls were creaking. But the worst sounds were the shrieks.

What became of Seamus and the twins? Remembering all too vividly Harry’s description of how Snape had met his death, Draco slowly stuck out his head to risk a peek.

Seamus was floating under the kitchen ceiling like a rag doll, surrounded by at least a dozen pans; he was screaming at the top of his lungs, his words unrecognisable. Fred‘s body joined the mad dance, and with horror Draco witnessed their bodies crashing against each other. Draco was sure he could hear bones cracking. Their bodies floated around aimlessly for a while, only to hit against one another with the same nasty sound again.

George’s body was hovering upside down; his head was dangling above the stove with a pot containing something boiling. His arms were waving madly; and his face held the same colour as his hair.

Horrified, Draco turned around to look at Harry.

Every limb was still shaking hard; his trembling hand was aiming alternately at his various helpless victims. A mad glint had darkened his eyes. He was grinning.

Draco croaked out: “No. Please, no.”

Harry couldn’t hear him.

“Harry…” Draco tried his best to get himself heard.

The dark head twitched around. Harry’s mad eyes focussed on Draco, squinted into slits. The corners of his mouth were twitching, contorting into a snarl. His wand was pointed directly at Draco.

“Harry, please, no…” Draco shook his head repeatedly. He had never felt this desperate and helpless before. “Please. Harry. HARRY.”

Harry blinked several times. The dark eyes softened. His body seemed to slacken. The hand clutching the wand sank weakly down to his side.

“No?”

Harry’s voice was so low Draco almost couldn’t hear him. His eyes were pleading for help.

“No!” It was the only answer Draco could think of.

It was loud when the bodies of Seamus, Fred and George hit the ground. The sudden impact with the stone floor caused another series of wailings.

Harry was swaying slightly. How slim he suddenly seemed to be…

Looking around, taking in the chaos he was responsible for, Harry seemed to shrink even more.

“HARRY!!!”

Hermione’s cry made Harry whirl around.

The girl stood frozen to the floor at the kitchen door, unable to believe what she was seeing.

“Hermione.” Harry’s voice was hoarse, but steady.

“Please. Trust me.” He took the lifeless hands of the girl in his, pressing them.

“Listen. I do need your help. Now. ” Draco couldn’t believe the change of attitude. How…

“Clear this mess away. No one got hurt. Not seriously, anyhow. And if somebody got hurt, they deserved it. No need to complain.” The last sentence was addressed directly to the three miserable men, struggling to get to their feet.

“There’s no need for anybody else to know what happened. Have I made myself clear?”

The Weasley woman just nodded her head faintly.

“Okay. Cool. I’m glad it’s settled. Now. I’ve had enough. I’m off. You know how to reach me.” After hugging the girl in a quick embrace, Harry turned around swiftly and strode directly toward Draco’s hiding place.

After all that had happened, Harry’s sudden efficiency was too much for Draco. With the strain and fear gone, his abused body cried out in pain.

He wanted to reach out for Harry’s purposefully outstretched hand, but reaction simply set in. Draco was just too weak. The hand that wanted to meet Harry’s just sunk down to his side again.

The last thing Draco remembered was being lifted gently off of the ground. The loud crack of them Disapparating echoed in his head before he passed out.

What do you think about it? Did you like it? Or hate it? Or whatever? Please leave a review and tell me! Thank you!