Where Lies Will Not Blossom

Author: Akumu Suta-Raito

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: R (Adult)

Genre: Romance, Drama, Angst, H/C

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Warnings: Language, Anal, Explicit Torture, Disturbing imagery.

Disclaimer: In no way shape or form do I own any portion of the Harry Potter Universe. I am not making any
profit from this fanfiction.

Summary: When Draco disobeys everything he’s learned in a single action, he is made a prisoner in his own home. Can Harry and Severus save him, or will he be destroyed by an obsessive Dark Lord's plans? Can bonds of love and friendship triumph over ultimate evil? Harry/Draco, H/C, Tort, Lang, Anal

Author’s Note: This chapter was a long time in coming. For that I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to get so swamped with real life and college and changing majors and moving. Needless to say, I’ve been seriously busy. Sorry again. I got so much feedback from everyone with the last chapter – it felt so great to know that my readers appreciated the story. It makes me even more eager to write chapters as fast as I can hint, hint. Lol. I’m committing to making my updates as consistent as possible. I might not be able to write as often, but it should never be more than a month (at the most) between updates. Also, this chapter was especially difficult to write, so I apologize ahead of time for any confusion.

Thanks to my wonderful beta, Vittani, for fixing up this chapter on such short notice! Don’t know what I
would do without you!

This chapter is a bit short, but another one is coming shortly. Hope everyone enjoys the chapter – sorry for the wait!

Chapter Twelve: Discovering the Upside

Draco cringed, curling into a ball. The Dark Lord was enraged – more than enraged. And no matter how coy he acted, no matter how much he played the loyalty card, there was little he could do to stop that anger from raining down on him. All Draco could do was ride out the storm and wait for it to be over.

Literally. Voldemort’s ire had manifested into what must be a violent cloud of magical energy. While Draco could not see it, he could feel the harsh bite of it against his skin and hear the sounds of havoc the Dark Lord’s magic was wreaking unchecked in the chambers. The blond found himself flinching reflexively at every crash or slam, waiting for something to hit him.

Even though Draco had been through his fair share of pain already, while the Dark Lord attempted to get his way. After several rounds of the Cruciatus had not got Voldemort what he’d wanted, the monster began to use more damaging and depraved curses, spells that tore Draco’s thin skin and gave the illusion of being on fire, leaving him bloody and with sympathetic pains that matched his real ones.

But Voldemort’s sibilant hisses bespoke of malevolence and it frightened Draco more than he could say, not being able to see the Dark Lord’s face.

There was nothing quite like being blind during a magical storm, he was finding out.

But he couldn’t do what Voldemort asked of him, which was a blessing and a curse simultaneously. And no
matter how much the Dark Lord hurt him, nothing could change that.

Two Hours Earlier

Draco froze, his thoughts fleeing as the sound of a door opening pierced through the silence. The familiar, dragging light steps were heard and he knew that the Dark Lord was once more in his presence.

A horrible thought nagged in the back of his mind, but as usual, the blond pushed it to even further recesses. It was the constant fear that drove him, the little voice that incessantly whispered, 'Will it be today? Now? Is the reprieve over? Will Voldemort finally do the things that are promised in every touch and gesture and stare that I can’t see? Will he finally give into his sick desires and… and…'

It was too much, Draco thought as he fought a shiver. Far too much to think on without giving up, without depleting the stubbornness that kept him going.

It was too dangerous to be pondering such things now. Now was time to put on his little act – one that was as perfected as possible under the circumstances.

“My Lord?” Draco questioned softly, unwilling to let Voldemort know he was getting somewhat accustomed to his inability to see. It was much better for the Dark Lord to think he was more defenseless than he actually was. Hopefully this little deception would lead to his advantage one day.

A dark chuckle was his response and the Slytherin shivered in spite of himself. Was it pitiful to be frightened by such a small sound, or was it merely wise, considering who it was coming from?

The dragging footsteps came closer, and a small dip to the blonde’s right alerted him to the other ‘man’s’ presence. Draco tensed slightly, but still looked noticeably relaxed – at least, that was what he was aiming for. For all Draco knew, he looked like a frightened rodent ready to bolt at the slightest sound.

In other words, Wormtail.

“I have been watching, little Draco. Watching you and wondering what goes on in that pretty little head of yours,” the red-eyed monster hissed in his familiar way. “If eyes are the windows to one’s soul, then yours must be remarkably absent – or it may just be that pesky little blindness.” An odd half-cackle, half-hiss accompanied this statement, and Draco wanted to bash the bastard’s head in. If wishes were giant maces…

“Nevertheless, I find it… difficult to read your intentions. A novel experience for your Lord, to say the least.”

“I… apologize, my Lord. I can do nothing more than offer up my allegiance to your Lordship and hope my future actions –”

“Actually,” The Dark Lord interrupted smoothly, “there is something that you could do to set my mind at ease.” As usual, Voldemort’s oddly slender and skeletal hands rose unerringly to Draco’s flaxen locks, fingering them loosely.

Draco froze, several terrible options looming before him. What would Voldemort make him do? Would he be fed Veritaserum, be given the Dark Mark, have to consent to an Unbreakable bond (gods, anything but that), have his mind ripped apart by Occlumency –

“Yes, my Lord?”

“It’s very simple, really,” the monster said mildly. “And relatively painless. So long as you consent to it, of course. I would abhor injuring such an exquisite creature as yourself, but your willingness to allow me in will determine your state.”

Ah, crap. What the hell was the bastard planning now? ‘Allow me in,’ allow him in where? Would today be the day – No. Not that. Never – he would die first.

But how would Severus react to rescuing a corpse? Could he allow the man to risk his life for naught, not to mention the others that would try to save him? Draco already knew the answers to all of those questions so there was nothing to say but, “I consent,” and hope that he hadn’t just give the Dark Lord permission to rape him.

Not that doing so would prove his loyalty, but gods only knew the warped ways Voldemort’s mind works in.
“I – I consent, my Lord.”

There was a rustling movement close to him, and there was a sudden building pressure behind his eyes – was the Dark Lord restoring his vision? Was he removing it permanently? The pressure was increasing with every pulse until he couldn’t take the relentless battering against his skull.

“Stop,” Draco gasped out without even meaning to, unable to take this new torture.

The pressure ceased a couple of moments later, and Draco heard a frustrated hiss somewhere above him. What in the hell had that been? It hadn’t felt like a spell, but something had obviously happened. Something that had displeased the Dark Lord.

A harsh hand gripped his chin, pulling his face upwards. “Naughty little Dragon, lying to me.” Draco’s insides froze, icy fear climbing up his throat. The Dark Lord knew he was lying – but about what? The clammy hand squeezed his jaw tighter, so tight that he could do nothing but shake his head in negation to whatever Voldemort was accusing him of. “You promised to let me in and yet your shields strengthen when I sought a way into your pretty mind...”

'Occlumency,' a distant part of himself informed him with alarm. He’d conveniently forgotten that the Dark was amongst the strongest Legilimens in the world. 'But what does he mean by shields, I don’t have any shields. I’ve never been taught how...' Another hand went to grip his shoulder, inhuman strength in the thin limbs pushing him backwards into what felt like a stone wall.

Pain flared in his right shoulder, and he bit into his lip to suppress the cry. No, he wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of his screams. His head spun for a moment; perhaps even more disorienting because of his blindness and the now familiar pressing sensation over took him.

No! Panicking slightly, Draco struggled against the Dark Lord’s grip, forgetting all pretenses of compliance. There was no way he could allow the monster to see the deceit lying in his mind; he would be dead for sure. Whatever perverse desire the other ‘man’ felt for him wouldn’t matter once his true intentions became apparent. He could only thank the gods for whatever was currently keeping his mind free of invasion – this shield that was protecting him couldn’t waver. 'I just… have to hold him off.'

The battering against his mind became more violent, similar to a sharpened knife attempted to pierce steel.
It felt just as painful.

Eyes clenched shut, tears leaking out of the edges of them, Draco bit his tongue until he tasted blood. If the shield in his mind was metal wall, it was beginning to dent against the ruthless onslaught of strength.

It was caving, the blond could feel it. Curling in on itself like paper in flames.

Oh gods, it hurt.

“Let. Me. In.” The bastard growled, but Draco had no such intention.

A second later, the invading presence seemed to retreat in his head and Draco fell limp in Voldemort’s cold clutches. He could feel sweat trickling down his brow, falling into his useless eyes and stinging them. It took Draco a moment to get a hold on his senses and realize what had just occurred.

Voldemort, merely a hairsbreadth away from breaking the ‘barrier’ in his mind, had suddenly withdrawn. That hardly made sense, now did it? Unless… unless he was gathering all of his strength for one final attack.
'No…' he thought desperately. 'I can’t take anymore. He’ll see… he’ll see everything. Oh gods, I’m about to
die.'

Not a moment later the air around him began to thicken and an unnatural wind picked up small strands of his hair. This was the mark of powerful magic, magic that Draco had no means to defend against. Caring no longer for pretense in the slightest, he fought even more ferociously against the hands that held him immobile. In that moment, he cared for nothing except for making his last moments be those of dignity. He didn’t want to die like a small bird trapped in a snare… no he wanted to show the defiance that boiled and simmered under his skin.

Draco wanted to say all the things he’d kept at bay, all the clever insults that he’d hidden in the recesses of his mind. All he could seem to come up with was three words. Three words that would anger the Dark Lord more than any other insult his mind could cook up.

“You half-blood Bastard.” The breezed stuttered and stopped, the hands holding him dropped away in shock and Draco wished he could see the look on Voldemort’s face. It would probably be worth all the pain he’d be going through in a moment.

Now there was the sound of roaring, a sound that couldn’t be made by human tongues – the sound of manifesting Dark magic. Perhaps he would be obliterated instantly; that was the best he could as for really.

That would be Draco’s last coherent thought for a while.

The Dark Lord, roaring in rage along with his magic, slammed into Draco’s mind with the force of a thousand Bludgers, completing demolishing the once strong shield. An overflowing amount of shallow thoughts seemed to brush against the invading conscious, inviting Voldemort to read them. Draco, hanging to consciousness by a string, was powerless to stop him.

'Can’ take anymore of this…'

'So tired…can’t go to sleep, mustn’t…'

'IT HURTS…'

'Leave me alone!'

'HURTS…'

'I’ll never stop fighting… I can’t.'

'I will give in… just make it stop!'

'No, no, no, no, no, no! This isn’t happening…'

The Dark Lord seemed to brush these petty thought aside, hardly listening to Draco’s anguish until…
'He can’t see.' Voldemort viciously grabbed on to this small thought, following it to deeper secrets. 'He can’t, he can’t… he won’t see.'

'I will sssee…ssshow it to me,' a foreign thought demanded, hissing after nearly every word. 'Ssshow me little one.'

'No, no… you can’t see… can’t let him know.'

Voldemort relentlessly followed the trail of this small string of thoughts, ripping past feeble barriers and traveling deeper into the blonde’s mind. The blonde was slumped, features slack and yet somehow pained as he fought a brutal rape that was different from the one he’d feared.

Perhaps it was even worse.

‘I have to hold on…he said to hold on…'

'Who – who isss the traitor? Tell me and the pain will ssstop…'

An image was appearing in Draco’s mind, but he ruthlessly stomped it out, renewed vigor giving him strength. He couldn’t allow the Dark Lord to know… not that.

No one would die because of him. Not anyone else. His consciousness was suddenly bombarded with a plethora of images. Golden eyes. Dark hair. Cackling Laughter. Trees.

'“Avada Kedavra.” A woman falling, two screams of rage…

“‘They didn’t touch me, but it h-hurt.'” Large golden eyes looking at him trustingly… but she was dead… ‘All my fault.’

“I-I may be a blood traitor, but at least I d-don’t take my queues f-from a psychotic despot who got defeated by an o-one year old.”'

He felt the Voldemort’s rage at the comment as a growl of anger seemed to make his head vibrate uncomfortably. Still the monster held on to the dangerous little thought that would lead him to the secrets Draco guarded.

A few moments, the images stopped and Voldemort began to follow the little thought once more. Quickly the Dark Lord’s presence sifted through his mind, clumsy and heavy handed as it tore through flimsy barriers. Along with each tear was a sharp pain that reverberated in his skull; the tears were sliding down the side of his face to trickle near his ears, but Draco was hardly in a position to care.

Every conscious part of him knew that the Dark Lord had to be stopped before he reached his destination, stopped before – do not think his name – was revealed as a traitor. No one else could die because of his weakness…

But Draco wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. 'Hold on, hold on… you must!'

Voldemort was traveling deep and deeper, ravaging every inch of Draco’s mind he could get a handle on, single-mindedly looking for what the blonde protected at all costs.

The monster was deep in his mind now, so far inside and he kept going farther and farther and Draco couldn’t keep his secrets anymore – they would all coming pouring out – and he couldn’t stop fighting helplessly against the intrusion and it hurt, oh gods it would never stop, he couldn’t take it any more and he could feel his sanity snapping and Voldemort had finally found the place where he kept all his secrets and he was almost there and his mind was bleeding –

Then, something that was felt more than heard, a massive wall of power slammed within his mind, cutting off the Dark Lord’s vile tendrils just as he was about just as they were about to discover who the ‘traitor’ was. The impenetrable shield was back, possibly stronger than it had been before. And Voldemort couldn’t do a thing about it.

The situation had quickly deteriorated from there. The Dark Lord wasn’t used to being denied anything and had acted like a typical spoilt child – first feeling around the barrier, obviously unable to believe that he’d been stopped. He poked and prodded and finally slammed into the wall – to which the wall slammed back.

Hard.

Reeling and confused Voldemort had been forced to retreat from Draco’s mind, this fact only making him angrier. And an angry Dark Lord equated to lots of curses and pain for Draco.

Every once and a while, after a particularly debilitating hex, Voldemort would attempt to access his mind once more – obviously he thought pain was the key to getting around Draco’s defenses. It wasn’t working.

Thank the gods for small mercies.

And as the Dark Lord became progressively crueler, Draco felt more secure than he’d been since his imprisonment had started. After that final ejection from his mind, Draco got a glimpse of what the Dark Lord was thinking.

And it had absolutely nothing to do with this death.

No, the bastard thought Draco would somehow be able to win this war for him and didn’t want to part with his newfound weapon. The blond thought he was delusional at best, but so long as Voldemort thought he was useful, his survival was a given.

Panting, recovering from his latest bout of the well-loved Cruciatus Curse, a long forgotten smirk found its way onto Draco’s bleeding mouth.

Yes, things were finally looking up.


Things were finally looking up for Severus Snape, and inadvertently, for his godson Draco.

The little rag-tag team Albus had forced him to assemble was actually working out quite well, thought he’s never say such things outside of the recesses of his mind. The headmaster’s ridiculous ‘suggestion’ that had been forced on him long ago wasn’t looking so horrific either.

Especially considering the Dark Lord wanted him to make the Gigno Latito. In theory, the potion was designed to amplify minor magical strengths tenfold and bring them to the forefront, or even force out talents long gone from lines with creatures blood. Any wizard or witch who drank of the potion would be infused with that the powers that could have been natural to them and magnified to the point that the individual would be near demigod status.

This is all in theory, of course.

In reality, the potion was nothing more than the delusion theory of a Mongolian wizard whose name had been long forgotten. A scroll, half-eaten away by time gave birth to the recipe for the potion, and had intrigued Dark Wizards for centuries. Voldemort was merely the latest of a long line of so-called ‘lords’ seeking the power that such a potion would bring. No one had ever brewed the potion successfully, so there was little evidence that it would indeed work.

All that was known about it was that it managed to ensnare every Potion Master in its grips, killing them after a failed attempt to make the blasted thing. Obviously, the entire mess was an anathema, one that Severus had no desire to get caught up in. He had enough problems without having an age-old curse after his hide.

Regardless, it seemed that he would be forced to do what the headmaster had asked of him so long ago and finally admit that it was time.

Time to release himself from his duties as Order spy, at least.

For so long, his status as a double agent had defined him, shaping his cynicism and cruelty to others because they wouldn’t understand – couldn’t understand – what he was sacrificing to keep their worthless hides intact. And that was perfectly acceptable, because he didn’t pine for their respect or admiration so long as he could fight for something worth it all, something redeemable for all of his past mistakes and not just be worthless like his father had always claimed he was –

Severus took a deep breath, refusing to bait himself by thoughts of that bastard.

No – but now his responsibilities as spy were coming to an end. It was best to accept this; besides, the fact that he’d have an active role in Draco’s rescue was more than satisfactory.
The whole situation made him feel particularly… bloodthirsty. A murderous expression lit his hawkish features, making him look particularly devilish.

Glancing to the side, however, made his sadistic mirth deflate almost instantly. That annoying bugger,

Weasley, was staring at him again. Even worse, he was getting bolder and bolder, not even caring that Severus caught him looking at him curiously. For Draco’s sake he would hold his tongue. For now. As soon as his godson was in safe hands, the red-headed man would be the recipient of a very pleasant curse that caused him to become cross-eyed every time he looked in Severus’ general direction. That would teach the man against having those annoyingly wandering eyes.

Weasley, Tonks, and Lupin were hunched over a large map of the Malfoy Manor and its surrounding land. The map was a quite ingenious thing, Severus had to acknowledge. It was what muggles would call 3-D, showing the various levels of the manor; even more interesting were the dots that displayed where each individual was located in the property. He wondered were Albus had gotten the idea from. And why Lupin seemed so familiar with the design.

Damn Marauders.

He moved a bit closer so that he could here their conversation.

“… really think that going through the back would be wise. Isn’t that a bit clichéd? Besides, it’s guarded well enough to give us a spot of trouble,” Tonks spoke up doubtfully.

“You’re right about the defenses,” Weasley said. “But it seems to be the least guarded out of all the entrances ways – there only seems to be three DE’s guarding it at time. It would be our best bet.”

“Our best bet of getting in, but also the most dangerous,” the werewolf murmured. “We’d have to go through the Dead Frost Forest to reach it without being seen. That’s the reason why it’s not heavily guarded. The forest is swarming with dangerous creatures – it’s nearly impossible to get through. But it’s still our best option so far… what do you think, Severus?”

The dark-haired man resisted the urge to glare at the other man. Just because they’d been colleagues out of some ironic twist of fate for a year didn’t give him the right to call him ‘Severus.’

“Going through the forest will be perilous, but it is the only way to get into the manor relatively undetected. If you can’t handle that –”

“Then we shouldn’t be here, yes we’ve heard the speech already. You think you’ll get rid of me so easily, eh?” Weasley had the nerve to actually grin at him cheekily after making the comment.

Severus bristled, snapping back before he could stop himself. “And you’ll keep hearing it until I’m confident you understand the severity of situation and that you don’t expect to charge in, waving a sword around haphazardly in usual Gryffindor fashion until you hit something. This is a retrieval mission, not a chance to get bragging rights.”

There was silence for a moment.

“I don’t know how to use a sword,” Bill said breezily.

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes.

“Your swordsmanship is likely to be equal to your skill with a wand, then,” Severus hissed out nastily.

The bastard was not even fazed. “I guess it depends on what sort of skills you’re talking about, then, Severus.”

At the comment Lupin raised in head in shock, turning to look at Weasley with an oddly calculating expression. Severus looked at them suspiciously, not quite understanding that last barb.

If that’s his idea of an insult, it needs a bit of work, Severus thought as he threw the man a cursory sneer and turned away.

It would take Severus months to realize what Bill was actually hinting at with that remark.

TBC

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers!

Vittani – *Blush* Glad that you think each chapter is getting better, I hope this one won’t disappoint. I’m excited that I’m finally introducing the entire ‘cast.’ I can get them to interact and play off of each other – the only thing I’m worried about is my characterization of Bill, honestly. I don’t have much to go on with him and I hope I haven’t completely botched him up. But if he’s really OOC I honestly don’t care, because I like the way I wrote him. Lol. Thanks for reviewing; as always, you motivate me to keep writing.

Alexander – You guys are really making my day! ‘Incredible’ was never an adjective that I’d thought would be used to describe my writing, I’m honestly flattered. I’ve added you to my update list, so you should have gotten an email from me. If not, let me know. Sorry it took so long to update – thanks for the feedback!

char_marcus – Really glad that you’re enthralled by my story; I hope that you like this chapter just as much as the previous ones. I’ve added you to my update list, so you should have gotten an email from me. If not, let me know. Thanks so much for the review, I really appreciate it!

Feme_ferret – Sorry it took me so long to update. Honestly, really, really sorry. I hope you haven’t completely forgotten about this story by now, lol. Thanks for the review! I’ve added you to my update list, so you should have gotten an email from me. If not, let me know.

deedeesan – I have every intention to finish this story, really sorry about the long break in between updates. I’m happy that you like the plot, I’ve done everything that I can to make it as un-clichéd as possible, lol. Thanks for the review, and I hope you liked this chapter!

Lisa – I’m happy to hear that you love my story. It’s always good to know that readers like what I put out. Sorry it’s been so long between updates, but hopefully the next couple of chapters will make up for that. Thanks for the review!

Nekoko Cella – That’s pretty much the plan, I was being a bit obvious about that, lol. I haven’t seen the couple before so I decided that I would give it a try. It seems interesting (and hot, lol). Glad that you approve of the idea, that last thing I wanted to do was squick people. Sorry it took so long to update, hope you liked this chapter!

Raxephon – Yes, the possibilities are exciting me as well, lol. Glad that the last chapter didn’t disappoint – hopefully you’ll like this one as well. Thanks for the review, I really appreciate it!

blackcurrent – Glad you like the story, and sorry it’s been so long since I last updated. Hopefully you’ll like this chapter as well. Thanks so much for the review.

sasukichan – Really glad that you’re back, I really missed your review! First of all, sorry that it’s been so long since I last posted a chapter. I don’t plan on taking that long of break again, but things have been pretty hectic, you’re right about life never changing. Since you took the time to review each chapter individually – thanks for that, by the way – I’ll respond to them individually. So here goes:

Chapter Nine: You’re right about Harry’s actions being a bit ill-thought out, but he’s a Gryffindor. You can’t expect much from them (unless it’s Remus) lol. It is sweet of him, he wants to help the Order even though he’s not an official member – there seems to be little that he can actually do, hence his ill-fated trip to the library! Ha! You’re right, the smut has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it, lol.

Harry seems to get himself in all kinds of trouble by simply existing, doesn’t he? The Grimoyre will serve as a serious plot twist later and all that I’ll say on the matter is that it is capable of both good and evil and it has some sort of higher consciousness. I won’t say anything about whether or not the Grimoyre is related to Draco in any way, but it’s safe to assume that Harry won’t be burning it. Anytime soon at least, lol. So, off to the next review.

Chapter Ten: Glad to know that this chapter pleased you so much, it’s really hard to get Snape’s ‘unique’ brand of humor quite right, but I’m happy that you thought I succeeded at it. And the whole bad attitude being mostly due to a headache just occurred to me out of the blue – I thought it would be funny.

I never really forgot Draco’s full name for some reason, maybe it’s just because Draconis sounds so pretty to me, lol. And it does give one plenty of ideas regarding pet names *ponders.* You’re pretty much right about the potion – no one is actually sure if it will do what it’s rumored to do because no one has actually made it successfully. It’s almost a fool’s errand for Severus, one that he’s definitely not going to deal with. Well, his cover will be blown, but he isn’t going to rescue Draco on his own unfortunately. But that’s explained a bit more in this chapter.

*Snickers* you’re right about Voldie’s mind staying a mystery, he’s too crazy to understand, lol. And it was really fun to write the Sirius/Remus interlude – maybe I’ll do a flashback about when Sirius was out of it with all those potions in him, hehe. It’s something to think about. Remus was letting his inner emo out, but I honestly think he sees himself that way – something that’s going to change throughout the course of this story.

Chapter Eleven: Sorry for the cliffe, I admit to my evilness on that point. As for Draco eating, lets just say that all prisoners are under a spell that keeps them from dying of starvation or sickness – Death Eaters want to get as much out of torturing their victims as they can, right? If they died too quick, it wouldn’t be as fun (and I’m seriously twisted, you don’t have to tell me).

Um, I would say that this has all taken place over the course of a month, July. In the beginning of July, Draco was taken prisoner. About two weeks later Harry finds out (when Draco gets moved to Voldie’s room) and finds the Grimoyre a day later. I think. Urgh, you’re not the only one losing sight of the timeline. I’m going to have to map it out in my head later.

The pairing of Bill/Severus kinda came to me while I was half-asleep and thinking about who I was going to pair him with. As odd as it is, I think I’m going to enjoy writing it. I’ve already got a future scene planned out when Severus tells Bill to back off and Bill’s like ‘no way.’ It was so fun to write, can’t wait until I actually get to put it in a chapter. And yes, what Sev needs is a nice, long screw to be honest. He’s got some serious built-up tension, lol.

Well, this chapter will go into the rescue plan a bit more and it’ll only be another chapter or two before I get Draco out of that damn place. Hopefully. Start cracking the whip if I don’t start updating quicker, seriously. I give you permission to leave me a mean email or two… or twelve, lol!

Thanks for the reviews again, I really enjoy reading them!