To Love Again

A/N: For the sake of this chapter, please imagine that the Quidditch towers are completely unoccupied and all the spectators are sitting in bleachers to watch the final game.

"Blimey, Harry, why the long face?," Ron questioned the Chosen One during breakfast the next morning. "The N.E.W.T.s are over, mate. You ought to be rejoicing!"

Harry sighed and pushed his eggs around on his plate, not in the mood to eat. The Great Hall was abuzz with excitement; today was the big Quidditch game against Slytherin, and it was the end of the term. But Harry didn't feel much like celebrating. His Draco was under the Imperius Curse, clearly in grave danger, and there were no known cures for the Imperius. He'd spent all night in the Restricted Section trying to find a remedy, but there were none to be found. He felt so helpless.

Ron waved his hand in front of Harry's face to get his attention. "Are you all right, mate?"

Before Harry could reply, Hermione butted in. "Think, Ron. Hogwarts has been Harry's only home for the past seven years, and now he's about to leave it all behind. Wouldn't you feel sad, too?"

The red-haired boy bashfully gave Harry an apologetic look, then put his head down and continued eating his breakfast.

"I hope you will come to the game today, Harry," commented Hermione, who seemed a lot more relaxed now that their exams were finished. "I mean, it is our last Quidditch game at Hogwarts."

The Boy Who Lived frowned into his plate. He needed to go to the game; if nothing else, just to see Draco again without anybody wondering why he was staring at a Malfoy. Merlin, how he missed Draco. "Uh, yeah, I'll be there," he replied absently.

I got you right where I want you, Potter, Lucius smirked to himself as he watched the dark-haired boy part ways with Weasel and Mudblood after breakfast that morning. The Boy Who Lived was now on his way into the boys' lavatory, which appeared to be empty. Under his Invisibility Cloak, nobody saw the madman as he slinked into the lavatory after Potter, wand in hand and ready to set his ingenious plan into action. Yes, this would be the ultimate way to gain vengeance on his blood traitor son; really make him suffer...

Harry stood in front of the restroom mirror, perched on the sink and deep in thought about his beloved. He couldn't just step aside and let Draco's attacker destroy him, or their beautiful relationship, but he didn't know what to do. How could he even begin to save Draco when he didn't even know who was controlling the Slytherin's mind and actions?

He sighed with frustration at the sound of the grandfather clock chiming in the hallway. It was almost time for the game. By now, Ron would be standing inside the changing room with his teammates, while Hermione would be sitting in the Gryffindor stands, waiting for Harry and wondering what was taking him so long.

The brunette was about to turn and leave when the restroom door opened and shut by itself. Harry's suspicious sage eyes narrowed at the door. Could it be Draco's attacker? Harry was positive that the would-be murderer had an Invisibility Cloak, since Draco couldn't see who'd attempted to kill him in the corridor two months ago. Heart pounding with apprehension, the Gryffindor cautiously pulled his wand out of his school robes...but before he could cast a protective shield around himself, he heard the faint whisper of "Quiesco!" The Gryffindor could feel his wand sliding out of his limp hand, making a clattering sound as he fell to the floor and drifted off into unconsciousness.
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The applause was deafening as the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams ventured out into the center of the Quidditch pitch, ready to start the game. Frowning up at the overcast sky, Draco simply couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right. He glanced wearily around the Quidditch pitch until his eyes fell upon the Gryffindor stands, where he saw Granger but not Harry. There had to be some reason why Harry wasn't sitting in the stands next to the bushy-haired girl. The Slytherin's gut told him that something was going to happen to Harry today, and it wasn't going to be pretty. He just wished to Merlin that he was wrong, or that he could at least prevent it from happening. However, the person controlling his mind apparently didn't want him associating with the handsome Gryffindor; if anything happened, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

The game began at the shrill sound of Madame Hooch’s whistle. Distracted by his inner turmoil and his worries about Harry, Draco was unable to concentrate on the game as much as usual. His teammates were yelling at him to stop daydreaming and play the blasted game, but the person controlling his mind had him living in a constant fog. Besides, he had come to rather dislike the Slytherins and what they stood for, and no longer cared about winning. All he wanted right now was to know that Harry was alive and safe...but the Gryffindor was nowhere to be found.
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Bump..bump...bump...bump...bump...bump...

Harry regained consciousness, awakening to the sound deafening cheers and the rather painful sensation of being carelessly dragged up a seemingly endless flight of stairs. His head throbbed as if he'd been hit over the head, hard.

Where the hell am I?, the Gryffindor wondered groggily as he opened his eyes. His last memory was of being in the boys' lavatory before the game, and his clouded mind attempted to comprehend how he might've gone from standing alone in the restroom, to being dragged up the stairs of...well, whatever this place was. Judging by the green and silver colors around him and the tall, skinny nature of this strange building, Harry determined that he must be in the Slytherin Quidditch tower.

Once he'd determined where he was, he tried to figure out the possible identity of his kidnapper, who was hidden underneath an Invisibility Cloak. Because Harry was being dragged behind the man, he could clearly see old, tattered boots peeking out from under the cloak as they ascended up the stairs. When he listened closely, he could hear the sound of heavy, wheezing breath and the person beneath the cloak grumbling in a deep, raspy voice about blood traitors and vengeance. As the Gryffindor's mind cleared, he remembered that Draco was now considered a blood traitor...that the Slytherin was afraid his father would kill him for being one...and Draco did get attacked a couple of months ago... Perhaps the Gryffindor's captor was Lucius himself?

No, it can't be, Harry rationalized. If Lucius came to Hogwarts, he wouldn't be dragging me up these stairs, he'd go after Draco...oh no! Lucius probably had this person kidnap Harry so that he could murder Draco without the Chosen One standing in his way. The Gryffindor had to break free and get to Draco before Lucius could! Fishing around in his robe pockets for his wand, he was horrified to find that the wand was missing. The Gryffindor attempted to strike the man, but found that a restraining charm had been placed on him, preventing him from defending himself against the madman.

At this point, they had reached the top of the tower. The cloaked man still kept a strong hold on Harry, who continued trying to kick and punch him, but to no avail. "Let me go!"

In compliance with Harry's command, the Gryffindor's captor shoved him onto the floor. Before Harry could get back up, he felt the Cruciatus curse take over; hot pins and needles being shoved into random and multiple places on his body. Had he not been starving from his lack of appetite from nursing a broken heart and worrying over Draco, he would have been sick on the floor of the tower. The beads of sweat that had started to form on his forehead were now dripping, flowing to his neck and his chest.

After what seemed like hours, the pain suddenly stopped. Harry lay completely weak and shaky, in a puddle of his own sweat as he watched his kidnapper remove his cloak, revealing his identity.

"Lucius," Harry hissed venomously. Boiling, seething anger and hate filled Harry, providing enough energy for him to stand and face the evil madman. "It was you all along, wasn't it? You tried to kill Draco!"

The middle-aged Slytherin pompously sneered down his nose at Harry. "That's right, Potter. I tried to kill the filthy blood traitor, but now I have other plans."
Harry followed Lucius' gaze out the tower opening, where a very preoccupied Draco half-heartedly sat on his broom, not showing much interest in finding the Golden Snitch. The Gryffindor's heart ached at the sight of his beloved, his silvery blond hair glistening magically under the slightly overcast sky.

As the dark-haired boy stared out at Draco, Lucius took advantage of this opportunity and roughly grabbed him from behind. The Gryffindor struggled to break free of his grasp, but the madman's grip tightened even more. "Where do you think you're going, Potter? Off to save your pathetic blood traitor boyfriend?"

Wincing from the pain as Lucius dug his dirty fingernails into his forearms, Harry turned his head and spat in the elder man's eye.

"You arrogant little prat!" Strengthening his grip on the Gryffindor with one hand, Lucius used his other hand to slug Harry squarely in the jaw.

Harry's immense rage numbed the pain from the blow, surging through his body like energy. "I won't let anybody take Draco away from me, least of all you!"

"I'm not going to take Draco from you," Lucius replied with a menacing laugh. "I'm taking you away from Draco."
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In the middle of the game, Draco noticed the other players suddenly turning their attention to the Slytherin Quidditch tower, the Slytherin team smirking and snickering while fear and shock plagued the Gryffindors' faces. The onlookers down below also stared up at the tower, pointing and exclaiming as if something treacherous was about to happen.

What the bloody hell is everybody looking at?, the blond Slytherin wondered to himself as he turned towards the tower. Draco's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat when he spotted Lucius in the top of the tower with Harry. The handsome Gryffindor struggled to break free of Lucius' grasp, determinedly holding Draco's gaze.

At the sight of the deranged Death Eater, Headmistress McGonagall and Madam Hooch quietly signaled for both Quidditch teams to descend to the ground and evacuate the field. Draco was the only Quidditch player remaining. Several teachers were ready to take action against Lucius, but McGonagall quietly motioned for them to remain in their seats...as if she knew something they didn't.

"No!," Draco whispered, tears stinging his eyes. He watched helplessly as his own father dangled Harry's body out the tower opening, evoking a collective gasp from the crowd. As morbidly twisted as Lucius was, Draco was certain that the madman would kill the love of his life right here in front of the students and staff of Hogwarts. The young Slytherin knew he had to do something, but the Imperius Curse still held him captive. The curse deemed him physically incapable of doing anything except sit on his broom in midair, terror clutching at his heart and his churning stomach.

Lucius gave Draco a malicious sneer and took obvious pleasure in his son's emotional pain. Enjoying the attention from all of the onlookers, he raised his voice loud enough for all of Hogwarts to hear. "I told you I would make you pay for dragging the Malfoy name through the mud, you filthy blood traitor!"

Leave Harry alone, you sick bastard! A tear trickled down Draco's cheek; this would probably be the last time he would see his Harry alive.

A demented smirk spread across Lucius' deathlike face as he pointed his wand at Draco with one hand and just barely held onto Harry with the other hand. "Tell Potter what you really think of him, Draco!"

Draco looked as though he was about to be ill. He pressed his lips together and tried his best to swallow those hurtful words that weren't his, but Lucius' horribly cruel words were trying to force their way out into the open.

"Tell him!," Lucius bellowed.

Please forgive me, Harry! Draco's tears flowed freely as he heard his voice shouting, "I hate you! I hate everything about you, you pathetic little four-eyed git!"

It hurt Harry to listen to Draco saying these things, but he kept reminding himself that it was the curse--not Draco--doing the talking. There has to be a way to break the curse... "You don't really want to say those things to me, Draco! You don't mean it, I know you don't!"

"You know nothing, Potter! You don't mean a damn thing to me, and you never will!" Despite the anguish Draco felt, his heart leapt a bit at Harry's words. Harry knows about the curse! He knows I'm being controlled!

From a distance, the Gryffindor thought he saw a slight change in the Slytherin's facial expression, if only for a brief moment. I'm getting through to him, Harry realized as a glimmer of hope came to life in his heart. He had to keep talking to Draco, even if it did mean disclosing his deepest, most intimate feelings for the Slytherin to the entire student body. "I remember how happy I was when we became friends-"

"-you're a bloody sap, Potter-"

"-and Christmas dinner in the Room of Requirement, when you gave me that book of folk tales! That gift meant the world to me-"

"-shut the fuck up, Potter!"

"You were there for me when I was mourning for Ginny!"

Draco's harsh expression softened as flashbacks flooded his brain unexpectedly, without Lucius' control. The young Slytherin remembered kneeling in the snow on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, holding the Gryffindor as he sobbed over his lost love, and the way Harry felt in his arms...

"I love you, Draco!"

As if Harry had spoken the most powerful counter curse ever created, Draco was instantly free of the Imperius. The fog in his mind lifted, all of his memories of Harry and the morning they broke up flooding back to him as if a dam broke, hitting him like a fist to the stomach. Right then, Lucius released Harry and laughed maniacally as a horrified Draco watched his lover's body plummeting towards the ground. He sat on his Nimbus 2001, frozen with fear and the knowledge that he was about to lose Harry...forever. Suddenly, one of the spectators down below shouted his name.

"Draco!"