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: Whew! I’m finally getting there. In following chapter or the next, Harry and Draco will finally meet. It’s been a looooong time in coming, believe me. I should have labeled this story as pre-slash more than anything else, but it should be living up to the H/D pairing soon. Promise.

Thanks to my wonderful beta, Vittani, for editing this chapter so quickly!

Chapter Fifteen: The Raid, Pt. 2

It was much harder than it appeared, crawling along the ground. Bill panted, dragging himself another couple of feet as he warily watched the ever-closer figures of the three Death Eaters. The others were close by he knew, although he couldn’t quite see them. He knew that Tonks and Remus were to his right, Severus to his left. He also knew that this part of the plan had to be executed perfectly—the Death Eaters couldn’t even be allowed to blink before being put down.

Everything counted on the element of surprise, an element that would be lost if these Death Eaters were able to alert others of their presence.

“Go,” he heard murmured to his left and he sighed, pushing himself several more feet. He was eager to just sneak up on the bastards and Stun them, but it was an open area and four Disillusioned Order members (even if they were crawling) could easily be noticed. The charm wasn’t an invisibility cloak, after all. It made you harder to see, but not invisible.

“Stop!” Bill froze at Severus’ hiss, feeling more than seeing the others’ movements stop as well. One of the Death Eaters seemed agitated about something and was pointing out in the distance. Hopefully, not towards them. Bill strained his ears, trying to hear what they were saying.
He heard a whispered spell and almost jumped at the sound of voices close to him.

“…fucking stupid! We’re stationed out here, watching bloody grass sway in the wind when we could be—” The gruff voice was cut off by a nervous, slightly nasally one.

“Doing what, exactly? Abandoning our post so that our Lord will flay us alive the next time he sees us? The Dark Lord knows what he’s doing. If he wants us to watch grass, then that’s what I’m going to do. Stop complaining. Your whining isn’t making the time go any faster.”

“You’re only saying that because of your fuck-up at the Ministry a few weeks ago… not his favorite person, now are you,” another voice added slyly.

“The farther away from the Dark Lord you are, the better. He might not notice what a pathetic waste of space you are.”

“Oh yeah, Rogers? If the Dark Lord favored you, you wouldn’t have stuck here with us. So shut yer mouth you a—” The spell ended and the voices faded away.

At least they hadn’t been discovered. And Bill was beginning to feel confident that they could get past these fools without detection. What a bunch of stooges… really.

A couple of more minutes of crawling and they were close enough to the men to hear what they were saying without a spell. Severus made a signal to Tonks and Remus, telling them to take out the two nearest to them. Bill already had his wand out, still crouched on the grass. He waited for Severus to make his move, knowing he had to react a second later.

The Disillusioned man stood silently, his movements as graceful and sure as a large cat. Stepping behind the closest Death Eater, Severus cast a quick and silent Stupefy. The man never had a chance. He wobbled and fell just as another of his friends was immobilized by Bill’s spell. Tonks and Remus struck at the same time, cutting off the cries of the other two men. In a less than thirty seconds, it was over.

A bit anti-climatic, but at least things were going smoothly.

Taking a couple of moments to Disillusion, restrain, and pull the Death Eaters away from the doorway, the four unconsciously stalled stepping into the manor. This would be… life changing at best, life ending at worst. But there was good being done tonight, he was saving someone who, despite being a racist brat the last time Remus had seen him, had changed into a young man who would risk his life for another. Which, he supposed, meant that the potential for good had always been underneath the scathing and cold exterior. He wished he’d seen it during his time at Hogwarts a few years ago—perhaps the boy’s current predicament could have been avoided. Maybe Remus hadn’t wanted to see anything different. Perhaps he’d been blinded by a surname and house colors and the memory of a cruel blond who had once threatened to slay him like the beast he was.

Yes, his memories of Lucius Malfoy weren’t exactly the greatest.

But there was no use in wishing for yesterday to change what you had a million tomorrows to make right.

He thought so, at least.

He glanced at Severus, who was making his way to the doorway and sighed. Time to not get killed.

Severus gestured to those behind him. Once they got closer he murmured, “Follow me. Do not go off on your own. I know these walls better than anyone else… do not be a fool and think you can find your own way,” his eyes stopped to Tonks and Bill as he said this. “Do not hesitate to kill any Death Eaters in our path if it can save your life. I have no pity if you are cut down because you saw fit to pause in some misguided attempt at being moral. We get in, we find Draco, we kill anyone in our way, and we get out. Alive. Understood?” He stared down all of them, unwilling to show his own nervousness at what they were about to do.

He turned around, creating a small, wandless Lumos in the palm of his hand and took out the map, activating it. He looked for his godson’s name and saw, with a sinking heart that the boy was in the Dark Lord’s chambers. Fortunately, however, the Dark Lord wasn’t with him. The raping bastard was in the north wing of the manor, far from his rooms.

He stepped through the doorway, hearing the others come behind him silently, even Tonks. The corridor was dark, and from what he could see from the tiny ball of light floating in his hand, the walls were damp. The uncomfortable smell of mildew permeated through the narrow hall, making his nose twitch.

He heard the sound of the werewolf coughing and shushed him. Tonks lit her own Lumos on the tip of her wand. Was the girl stupid? Severus was about to reach back and yank the wand out of her hand when Weasley spoke up.

“Put that out now,” he whispered lowly. “The less light the better, Tonks.”

The girl’s eyes turned a light violet for a moment before she sighed and whisper ‘Nox’. “Fine. But don’t be surprised if I trip every other step because I can’t see where I’m going. It’s bloody dark, if you haven’t noticed.”

“If your clumsiness gets us discovered, I’ll kill you myself,” Severus hissed back. He knew her well enough to know that she was sticking out her tongue at his back and he resisted the urge to curse her. That could wait until after Draco was retrieved safely and they were far away from this cursed place.
They continued to move down the hall slowly, careful of any hidden dangers that may be lurking in the dark. The entrance they’d come through was of the lower level—the underground floor right above the dungeons. There was a risk of running into Death Eaters who were leaving or going to the torture chambers, but it was also the only floor that wasn’t guarded.

So they made their way down the darkened hall, unbothered and undetected.

For a while at least.

Severus, as he was nearing the end of the floor and close to the stairs, froze when he noticed that one of the shadows had moved when he shined the light on it. The others had seen it as well and paused with bated breath, wondering what terror was awaiting for them in the dark.

It couldn’t be worse than the Tar-Spiders. Right?

They stayed frozen for several minutes, trying to glimpse a moment in the shadow without revealing themselves.

“Remus,” Tonks murmured almost silently after those long, fear-filled minutes, “smell anything?”

“Nothing,” he whispered out the side of his mouth. From the dim light of Severus’ Lumos, Remus could see his breath in the air in front of him. Had it always been so cold?

“Maybe we were just imagining things,” Bill suggested.

Severus didn’t think so, but standing in the middle of a hallway in a Death Eater stronghold wasn’t exactly an ideal situation. They would have to move forward eventually and see what was waiting for them. “Ready?” He didn’t wait for the others to respond before raising his hand and pouring more power into his Lumos. The entire hallway was illuminated.

They weren’t alone.

“Oh my… gods,” Tonks squeaked, stepping back until she bumped into Bill, who was shuddering and (unknowing to anyone there) fighting the urge to step in front of Severus and shield the other man.

Remus had lowered himself into a crouch and Severus had also taken an involuntary step back before getting a hold on himself.

The rest of the hallway was filled with Lethifolds, their cloaks black as night and moving in an invisible wind. There were so many of them that they almost seemed cramped, the shrouds moving against on another like silk against silk. They did not move any closer to the group, instead looming threateningly over the exit.

Waiting for the humans to come closer.

“Oh my gods,” Tonks repeated again, knowing they would have to get through the monsters. Lethifolds were not the most dangerous Dark Creatures known to wizards (basilisks and chimeras outranked them by a long shot), but they were the ones most feared by Wizard kind. What little wizarding child hadn’t heard stories of the Lethifolds, the cloak-like monsters who snuck into children’s beds and strangled the life out of them? Who hadn’t woken up from a nightmare of being suffocated by the darkness, before screaming for mommy and daddy to come to the rescue?

But there were no parents here to tell them it was just a dream. This wasn’t a dream.

For several long moments, no one moved forward. Then Remus growled under his breath and it snapped Severus into action. “Wands out, Lupin,” he said quietly, reaching behind him with his free hand. Surprisingly enough, it was not a female hand that grasped his own, but a large male one. Severus looked back and grimaced. Weasley. Of course. Why was he even surprised?

He saw Tonks link hands with Bill and Remus link hands with Tonks. “We’re making a run for it, right? I mean, we’re going to fire off Ridikulus’ and run like hell right?”

Severus sneered. “Unless you have a better plan?”

This was the oldest (and most effective) method of getting past Lethifolds. A group of people form a line, hands clasping to one another so that no member was separated and left behind. It was effective enough—but the catch was that only two people had an arm free… meaning, only two people would be able to cast spells in defense. Tonks was an Auror, and she was adept at using her own wand to protect herself. It didn’t sit well that she would be relying on someone else’s spellwork. She didn’t doubt Snape’s abilities, however, nor did she doubt Remus’. She flushed slightly. No, Tonks didn’t doubt Remus at all.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “But I was hoping you would.”

With no further warning, the group began to run forward.

The moment they hit the Lethifolds, it was as if they’d run into pure darkness. Heavy, impenetrable, choking darkness. Fortunately, Lethifolds weren’t known for their swiftness, but that didn’t stop one from latching onto Bill, the shroud wrapping around his upper arms and intending to pull him from the group. No sooner than the bloody thing had gotten a good hold on him, Bill heard a loud, “Ridikulus,” and the hallway lit up with yellow light for a moment, highlighting the grimace on Severus’ face as the man fought off another Lethifold intent on smothering him.

They were still running forward, and the constant illuminating light of Severus’ and Remus’ spells only showed an endless amount of enemies, as if they’d somehow stepped into a corridor completely filled with the blasted things. He couldn’t see the end of the hallway, but fought down panic. It wasn’t far away, he knew it.

They endured what seemed like hours of grasping, suffocating darkness, endless Lethifolds rising up when one of their brethren were shot down. Bill felt Tonk’s small hand, slippery with sweat, begin to slide out of his own and held on to it relentlessly, going so far as to dig his nails into her fleshing, knowing that she would be more grateful than angry if they got out of this mess. When, when they got out of this mess, he corrected himself silently.
It was odd, though, that Severus’ hand didn’t seem to be sweating, it was warming up, but still slightly cool. It should have been disturbing, but all he could think about was the fact that he was shuddering and shaking and how much he hoped the other man didn’t notice.
Then, they broke through.

It was so sudden, as if an unimaginably dark sky was inexplicably illuminated by the bright sun. Never mind the fact that the corridor was nearly pitch-black, the difference from being in the dark and being able to breathe was immediately apparent.

Bill could barely make out Severus, who was bent over gasping, his hands resting on his knees. He wanted to ask if the man was okay, but he couldn’t
find the breath to do so.

“E-everyone okay,” Remus gasped out finally, righting himself. The others murmured a reply, too intent on getting back the wind that had been knocked out of their lungs to struggle speaking for a moment. Remus sighed and walked over to Severus, taking the map out of the Potion Master’s pocket. He got a glare for his efforts before the man looked away gasping, trying to get back his lost breath.

Remus felt almost normal—there were some advantages to being a werewolf he had to grudgingly acknowledge. It was very hard to take his breath, which was a Lethifold’s specialty. Not that it hadn’t been unnerving for him as well.

Remus’ wand was already lit, casting a soft light over the map. It was safe to do so, as it was unlikely that anyone would see light past the shield of deadly cloth. His intent eyes spotted the Dark Lord’s position almost immediately. He was on the move… going back to his quarters, perhaps? He cursed under his breath. That made things a bit more complicated.

“Looks like the Dark Lord is headed back towards Draco.”

“What,” Severus growled, his voice finally devoid of that cursed gasping and panting. He walked over to Lupin and resisted the urge to rip the damn map out of the man’s hands. His dark eyes roved over the parchment, following the dot titled ‘Tom Riddle,’ and hoping the bastard wasn’t going back to his quarters. No such luck. “Merlin,” Severus muttered under his breath.

“Wonderful, just bloody perfect. If the Dark Creatures and Death Eater lackeys don’t off us, then the Dark Lord still has a chance at it. I might as well AK myself now,” Bill grumbled. He walked over the stairwell that would take them to the upper levels of the Manor, peeking for any errant Death Eaters.

There were none. Now was a good time to move.

“Would you get away from there, you fool! Or are you just sticking your head out in the hopes that some inbred fool will stumble across us?” 'Dear Severus,' Bill thought with a sigh, 'you certainly have a way with words.'

“I was checking to see if anyone was in the corridor… there isn’t. Come on,” he muttered, “While no one’s on the stairs.”

“Were you planning on Disillusioning yourself before charging into the corridor like some half-brained first year,” Severus asked, his voicing mockingly polite. “Or where you just planning on telling every Death Eater you came across that they were just imagining the ginger oaf in the middle of their headquarters?”

Bill opened his mouth to respond (wondering if Severus knew that his insults weren’t affecting Bill in the way that he might imagine) when Tonks interrupted the two. “Um, Bill? Can you save the snappy comeback until after we get out—yanno, before the Dark Lord flays our arses?”

The red-head decided not to respond, but made a show of taking out his wand and putting it over his head, murmuring the spell softly and staring at Severus all the while (with a look that may not have been entirely innocent).

While the other copied Bill’s action, Severus remained rooted to the spot, unable to shake the feeling that there had been something odd about Weasley’s stare. He shook himself mentally and focused all his thoughts on Draco.

“Stay clo—”

“Close so that we won’t lose each other. We know Severus,” Remus interrupted in the politest way possible, somehow managing to sound respectful. With nothing further, the group began to ascend the stairs that would take them to the second level, Remus carefully righting Tonks after more than one near-spill on the slippery steps. Bill froze as he heard pained shrieks, causing Tonks to bump into him and nearly fall again.

“W-What was that?”

“The current entertainment for the Dark Revel, I have no doubt,” he heard Severus’ snap above him, the man’s body hardly discernable from the spell. “Keep moving.”

“But—” Bill started, his stomach prickling uncomfortably at the thought that someone was being hurt with no one to do something about it.

“What you do suggest we do, Weasley? Storm into a Dark Revel with several dozen Death Eaters and nicely ask them to stop torturing the poor muggles, because it’s really bad sport?”

The cries sounded again.

Bill sputtered in outrage, truly angry at Severus for the first time. “You can’t expect me to do nothing!”

“Yes, well, Draco did ‘something’ rather than ‘nothing’ and look how that turned out for him.” Severus snarled back. “And yet, you still believe yo—”

“Guys,” Remus interjected. “Let’s—”

“Please, no! Not my son please, don’t no, not my baby please—” The frantic voice cut off suddenly.

Bill moved rather quickly for his tall frame, intent on attempting to stop the monsters downstairs when a surprisingly strong hand clamped around his forearm.

“There is nothing we can do, you foolhardy Gryffindor.” Severus voice hissed in his ear. “I know, more than you possibly could. Keep. Moving.”

Bill shook his head in denial, though the other man couldn’t see, but stopped when Remus spoke up.

“Listen to Severus and move, Bill. Now. I have no problem with Stunning you and setting off your portkey. Better that you end up in Grimmauld Place than jeopardizing this mission.” Remus’ calm, softly spoken words made him realize what he was about to do and he stood still for several long moments before sighing and turning around, absently noting that Severus’ hand was still around his arm. The man let go quickly however, and began to walk up the steps once more, mumbling curses that Bill couldn’t quite hear under his breath.

They never did notice the one lone cloak amongst the swarm of Lethifolds that had, upon their safe passage to the other side of the corridor, lifted up, passing through the seemingly solid stone ceiling above.


In every situation, there was an upside and a downside, Draco was slowly finding out. Upside: he knew that he hadn’t been forgotten, that the Order had planned his rescue, a rescue which was taking place this very moment.

Downside: So did Voldemort.

He wasn’t sure how. He knew, for a fact, that Voldemort hadn’t gotten it out of his mind (any attempts at Legimency at the first incident proved unsuccessful) but somehow, the bastard had found out. And he was probably going to die. Along with those planning to rescue him. People who had families. People who would be missed. People who were worth something… more than could be said for him at the moment. Unless providing amusement to a sick, twisted fuck of a Dark Lord was considered useful.

He’d always thought that Gryffindors would die by his hand, not from trying to save him. 'Oh, how the mightily arrogant have fallen,' he couldn’t help but think in full self-deprecation, tugging half-heartedly at the chains suspending him from the ceiling. He was stretched fully, arms pulled tight in the sockets by the chains and the weight of his body, his toes barely able to touch the grimy floor. Damn.

“You… have two choices. I don’t believe I have to tell you what they are.” The harsh, angry sound of Voldemort’s voice made his start. He wasn’t even aware the man had come back. Using the word ‘man’ loosely, of course.

“And you have many choices, many forms of torture,” Draco started, refusing to reflect the fear he was feeling in his voice. “But none of them will make me yield to you.”

There was a sound. For a moment, he didn’t recognize it. It was the sound of Voldemort laughing. “If you truly believe that, little one, you are far more ignorant of ways than I thought you were.”

Draco remained stubbornly silent.

He hadn’t heard Voldemort move, but suddenly his chin was yanked harshly in an iron grip. “Do you know what I could do to you, boy?” The smell of acrid breath hit his nostrils and Draco recoiled. “I could show you a world you’ve never seen before, a world created by your screams and dying breaths. I can allow you to see colors only seen by those in so much agony that their bodies have began to shut down, experience pain so intense it becomes ecstasy. I will tear apart that fragile,” Draco flinched. “Pure.” He shuddered. “Body. Until there is nothing left but scraps for my Nagini. And you will be aware of it all, unable to lose consciousness… Oh yes, you will feel my pleasure in your ruin. And I will bring you back so I can do it all again.”

Draco shook for several long moments, overcome with an anger so severe he could taste it in his mouth. This… this monster threatened him with promises of rape and torture, clearly expecting the boy to yield to him. But Draco wasn’t driven by fear now—no, he refused to allow the Dark Lord to enjoy his death.

He would not be given that satisfaction.

“Nothing to say, pretty blood-traitor? Has your fear already become too great, that that tongue of yours has been stalled?” And that was the last straw.

“Fear of you, Dark Lord, would be a waste of my time: I can’t fear someone driven by their own terror of death, by the constant delusions of destruction. There are two people you fear in the world. One is an elderly man who loves Muggle candy and socks. The other is a teenage boy whose failing Potions, quite miserably, I must add. My father always said you could measure the worth of a man by his enemies. Neither of these says much about you, I’m afraid.” The lashing curse the tore apart his back, exposing muscle and bone to the drafty air didn’t hurt as much as it could have.

God, it felt good to talk to Voldemort that way—throwing everything out except for his hatred, his frustration, his desire to make the bastard angrier than he’d ever been, to make him remember Draco, remember him out of all the other, endless faces. He would be remembered. Maybe not by his family, or his pitiful excuses for friends, or even by those who fight against Voldemort. But the Dark Lord would remember him, would remember his words, his insults, his jeers. He would not make this easy. For every blow given to him, he would respond with a blow to Voldemort in the only way he knew how: by attacking the bastard’s surprisingly fragile ego.

“I am eternal! I am forever! No one shall kill me, not Dumbledore, not Potter, no one! And you shall obey me, if you want to live. Now tell me, who is the traitor?”

“When people… say what they are, that’s usually… w-what they aren’t,” Draco gasped out. “If you were all seeing, all knowing, you wouldn’t… be torturing me for answers, now would… you?”

“Tell me.”

“Never.”

“Crucio!” White-hot agony, cruel and unrelenting, rained down on his vulnerable flesh for what seemed like forever as he screamed and screamed, trying vainly to curl up his body while dangling from the ceiling. Finally, though, it ended.

“Hasss torture loosssened your tongue, fool? Or will you continue to deprive me of answers?”

“The second one,” Draco gasped out between choked sobs, shaking from being under the curse for far too long. Not that it mattered if there was permanent nerve damage—how permanent was a couple of days, anyway?

If the Dark Lord decided to keep him alive for that long, even.

“You are just a little boy who failed to save a Muggle girl, failed to be the heir your father wanted you to be, failed to be anything important… you fail at everything. And now you will die.”

If Voldemort thought two could play at the game of verbal demolition, he was wrong for one very important reason. Draco knew what buttons to push.

He didn’t.

“I’m not afraid of death. Hell has to be better than a single moment spent in your company, you sick fu—” Oh. Fuck. That one hurt.

“The o-only people you can beat… in a duel h-have t-to be tied up, deprived of a… w-wand, and blinded. Some… D-Dark Lord you are.” Another curse. Not sure what it did, but he had the distinct feeling that his intestines were trying to break free of his stomach.

But it didn’t hurt so much.

“You a-are weak,” Draco shuddered out. “P-pathetic. I… pity you.” That was, quite possibly, the best (or worst, depending on how you looked at the situation) thing to say. The roar of uncontrollable, Dark magic rolled over him relatively harmlessly. Obviously Voldemort wanted to savor his death.

Fine.

So long as he had breath to speak, Voldemort would regret every minute Draco stayed alive.

Voldemort let out a sound similar to a growl. “Order members gallivanting around with the traitor in a futile attempt to save you, filthy murderer, you bold little fiend,” He feel the heavy breaths on his neck and tried to cringe away, but the hand gripping his hair threatened to rip off his head with every useless tug back. “And you thought I would not know? Oh, little stupid Dragon, I always know!”

“But I see now that I will not get the answers I want from you… the only thing I want to hear from you now is screams. Silencio praeter cruciatus!” Draco felt a chill from the spell and suddenly knew that things were about to get much worse. The spell silenced his words… but not his screams.


Remus could not believe their luck.

They were, literally, at their destination. The Dark Lord’s chambers lay beyond the door, a dark stone monstrosity that seemed as tainted by as much Dark magic as Voldemort himself. There had been no trouble whatsoever, no Death Eaters to stumble across, no Dark creatures or enchantments impeding them. In fact, there were no Death Eaters on the second level. Partially because this level, being part of Voldemort’s quarters, was only accessed by the Inner Circle (such as Severus, who had a Potion’s lab filled with highly dangerous and volatile substances on the opposite end of the floor). The other reason was because of the Dark Revel happening to be taking place on the First Level.

He saw the parchment of the map lift in the air once more and knew that Severus was checking yet again to make sure that the Dark Lord was not in the chambers. The map showed, as it had two minutes ago, that the Dark Lord was in the East Wing of the Manor, far above and to the right of where they currently were. The four of them had exhausted their knowledge of detection spells and counter-curses (which for Bill, was quite a lot) and the quarters were safe to enter, as far as anyone could tell.

Now they just had to do it.

“Severus,” Remus spoke hesitantly, “I don’t think we can be any more careful.”

Severus spared him nary a glance before firing another spell at the doorway, smirking in satisfaction as it flashed a pale orange before. “I wonder if you’d have the same sentiments while bleeding out of your eyeballs, Lupin, which is what would have happened if I’d let you step through the door without countering the last curse on it. Draco may be beyond that door, but I would rather prefer being alive after getting through it. Don’t you agree?”

Tonks resisted the very prominent urge to roll her eyes. Snape was just so… urgh! “So can we get this over with now?”

Severus nearly snapped out a ‘Ladys first’ and pushed her through the door, but decided against it and opened the door himself. He flinched as the lock clicked, expecting his head to be ripped off by some hex he or Weasley hadn’t managed to detect, but no such dismemberment was forthcoming. Instead, he encountered a drawing room that seemed to permeate with that particular half-rotten smell the Dark Lord exuded. His heart began to thump with excitement in a way that it hadn’t in several years. It would finally be over, Draco’s nightmare would end. He was right beyond that door.

Severus began to rush towards one of the many doors leading from the drawing room, hardly aware of the others following him) and nothing, nothing would stop him from saving his godson. Draco would be safe, Severus would take care of him and apply for formal guardianship and… and… his godson wasn’t in the room.

He stopped short, too stunned to even snap at Weasley for running into his back. His eyes swept over the bedroom, repeatedly, desperately looking for his godson’s pale head. But he’d known the moment he walked in that Draco wasn’t there. The room was large, with an enormous bed taking up several feet of space. Connected to one of the bedposts was a rather imposing chain with a collar on the end of it. A collar that, certainly, was intended for Draco… that much was evident by the single, almost translucent hair that lay across the chain, immediately noticeable next to the dark metal.

Severus swallowed a lump in his throat. Where was Draco?

“This doesn’t make sense,” Remus muttered, sniffing for the Malfoy child. The map had identified this room as Draco’s location. How could it be wrong, when he and Albus collaborated on it’s making? Something wasn’t right about this… not at all…

He froze for a moment, before rushing to the bed. Pulling a few pillows away from the center of the bed, Remus stared at the object in shock.

There, amongst the silken pillows and sheets, on top of the lavish coverlet was a small, exquisitely made golem. Not more than two inches long, the golem seemed to be made entirely of pale, nearly white strands of hair to form a human shape. His nose told him that the wood underneath the hair had been soaked in Draco’s blood.

Severus picked up the small object, unable to comprehend its presence in the room. Golems were rare things, able to trick even the most powerful of magical artifacts. But why—

Severus’ eyes widen as he felt magic flair within the room. The spells on the door had merely been a distraction! The hexes that were activated by their entrance into the study were completely undetectable by any spell. It was a trap! And they had stumbled into it like bloody fools lining up for the slaughter! The others seemed to realize it moments after he had and they all made a desperate sprint for the entrance, feeling the powerful waves of Dark magic rising threateningly in the quarters.

The walls themselves seemed to be shaking and bending in on himself and Severus barely avoided a falling stone from the ceiling as he neared the door. A door which seemed to be looking less and less distinct by the moment and that was closing not so slowly. He reached the door first and sailed through the entrance without much difficulty, as the warding charm had yet to build up to it’s full power. Remus was second, and Bill and Tonks came a moment later with much more difficulty. The wards were almost fully in place and were attempting the repel Bill (who had a grip on Tonks) from the entrance but Severus reached his hands through without a second thought, nearly pulled back into the rooms by the sucking force the of the magic. He pulled Bill through, with the aid of Lupin (who had, at some point, grabbed onto his waist in order to pull him back).

Tonks tripped over the step leading down from the door at exactly the wrong moment. She slipped from Bill’s grasp with a cry, hitting the ground. The door slammed closed with a grating, harsh sound.

She was trapped on the other side.

“Fuck!” It was the first time any of them had ever heard Remus curse. “Tonks! Tonks, can you hear me?”

There was silence for a moment, then a muffled, “Morgana’s tits,” sounded from behind the door and they all rolled their eyes. But the seriousness of the situation couldn’t be denied. They had yet to fulfill their mission to rescue Draco (who could be anywhere in the Manor) and one of their companions was trapped in the Dark Lord’s private chambers, of all places. And the fact that Tonks hadn’t been disemboweled by some Dark curse meant that Voldemort had intended only to trap them, so that they could be dealt with later. Severus shuddered. He knew how traitors, especially, were ‘dealt with’.

“Dammit, what in the hell are we going to do? We can’t just leave her here,” Bill murmured, grasping at his long fiery locks as he paced back and forth.
Severus’ mind worked furiously for a moment before he came up with a solution, staring at Weasley speculatively. “We won’t be leaving her. You’ll stay here and work on dismantling the spells on the door—you are the most qualified out of the three of us to defuse the curses on the door. Lupin and I will continue on to find Draco and double back for you.”

Weasley’s clear blue eyes bulged for a moment. “I can’t do that! I break ancient, depleted curses off of derelict tombs, for Merlin’s sake! I’m not skilled enough to break through the most powerful Dark wizard’s warding! That’s so beyond me that I wouldn’t even know where to start! She’ll die!”

“Tonks can’t activate her Portkey through wards like these. She’ll die regardless, Bill,” Remus snapped seriously, not sounding like his usual calm self.

“Out of all of us, you are the most experienced with ward-breaking. You have to try while we retrieve Draco. And you’ll be relatively safe, as we’re all expected to be detained in that room—if anyone was going to show up, they would have done so already. With any luck, they won’t be coming back within the next hour.”

Bill looked between the two obviously serious wizards before grimacing. “This is insane, you both are aware of that, aren’t you? The Dark Lord knows that we’re in his headquarters and you’re still talking like we have a bit of a chance. Absolutely barking mad. Fuck,” he groaned, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Fine! I’ll try. But you better come back with the Malfoy kid so you can at least have something to show the Order besides Tonks and my desiccated corpses.”

Severus didn’t bother to explain to the man that it was unlikely they’d have corpses to bring back if the Death Eaters (or Merlin forbid, Voldemort) got to them. He just nodded tersely and began to walk away, hoping that he and the werewolf could pull this foolish maneuver off. “Severus!”

He turned slightly, regarding the other man. “Don’t die. We haven’t even got to the fun part yet.”

Severus’ eyebrows furrowed for a moment, before he turned around again. He wasn’t sure what Weasley was talking about, but he had bigger things to worry about than a Gryffindor oaf who spoke in riddles. With Lupin beside him, he began to walk down the corridor, glancing down at the map once more. Only Voldmort’s dot was visible, but he was positive that Draco was with him. There was no other place he could possibly be.

Which made things infinitely more difficult.

At the same time, Bill turned and stared down the door, facing the biggest challenge he’d ever have as a curse breaker. “I’m going to get you out of there Tonks, just hold on,” he called out, readying his wand.

Tonks’ reply was muffled, but easily heard. “You always were one hell of a bad liar, Billy.”

Bill began to cast spells.


The blood welling from the rips in his back ran down his sides, first warm and almost soothing, then cold and sticky. He never knew when another curse would hit, when another of his bones would be broken, when the pain would reach its crescendo and he would finally snap, his hardly guarded sanity out of the window. He hoped he was dead before he had to witness the deaths of those trying to save him… he knew he would be responsible, but he didn’t want to see it. Draco wanted the sweet oblivion of death. And if that made him a coward, so be it.

He didn’t know that his godfather and the long-fired professor he’d once mocked because of shoddy clothes and haggard expression, were not far away. Who were so close, in fact, that they could hear his screams. No, Draco didn’t know any of this.

All he knew was pain, and the odd satisfaction that he’d made it so that the Dark Lord would never forget his words.

Another hissed spell and every one his ribs cracked, causing him to scream shrilling, chillingly before he began to choke, blood rising from his insides to his throat, flooding his mouth, making he gag, he hated the taste, hated it so much, he wanted it out, out of him now.

So be it, he thought hazily, blind eyes rolling back at the sound of his hoarse screams, hardly realizing they were coming from him. I’m not… a hero. I should have… never tried. Was he being hurt again? How odd, it didn’t seem to hurt at all… he could feel himself fading. Yes, yes, it was over, it would
be over soon.

He jerked in his chains, eyes opening in stunned, conscious pain at the feeling of ice-cold water splashing onto his body. “Don’t fall asleep yet, silly Draco. We aren’t done playing.”

Severus was shaking, trembling almost violently with rage as he heard the sounds of his godson being tortured. The spell he employed allowed him to see what was happening, but his head was turned stubbornly away, refusing to look at a sight that would haunt his nightmares. Screams, choked gasps issued from a mouth that could not form words, the harsh sound the magical whip made as it connected with the soft flesh of a teenage boy. Another of Draco’s cries sounded in the air, tapering off to an odd keening and Severus found himself being held back by the steel arms of an ex-enemy.

“Lupin,” He growled, his voice nearly unrecognizable. “Let me go. Now.”

“Not yet, Severus. We have to wait, wait for the perfect moment to strike… otherwise—”

“And when exactly will that perfect moment be? Before or after Draco is dead,” He snarled out, knowing that the moment hadn’t come yet for them to move. The Dark Lord was facing them and would notice too soon if they were to go in now. They would be stopped.

This had to be executed perfectly. Severus gritted his teeth and waited.

Draco felt the dull, rounded end of a wand on his abdomen for a moment before Voldemort began to drag it downwards, leaving a trail of fire (at least it seemed) its path. Draco could no longer scream, his throat was torn, but he made an odd keening noise, the noise of a half-mad, pained animal. He jerked away. It didn’t matter. He faintly heard the Dark Lord murmur, “Such a pretty boy,” over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

Oh gods, when would this end?

He couldn’t hold on. 'I’m sorry Severus. I’m too weak… I can’t wait any longer.'

'I can’t, I can’t... I can’tIcan’tIcan’t—'

TBC --- Next chapter, the last part of Draco’s rescue and Grimmauld Place! 


(1) Silencio praeter cruciatus—‘Silence all but pain’ A spell to stop someone from talking, but not from screaming in pain (because the Dark Lord’s that sick).

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers!

thrnbrooke—For once, I actually think Harry is going to be a good boy and listen to his elders. And watch over Sirius, of course. ^_^ Thanks for the review, as always! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Toraus—I’m really flattered that you’re enjoying the story. I honestly love doing Draco’s point of view, especially in his situation and SexualCrisis!Harry is always amusing, lol. Hope you like this chapter as well!

Invisabell—Well, I don’t want to give too much away, but I won’t leave Draco blinded forever (I just can’t be that cruel). Thanks for the review, hope you like this chapter!

DTDY—Thanks for the review, hope you like this chapter as well!

CensoredForLife—Love your username! Glad that you enjoying the story, and the way that I portray my characters. Yes, writing a slightly OOC Snape without it being too farfetched his hard, thanks for thinking that I’ve got it right! I completely agree with you, Harry and Draco shouldn’t just fall in love at the drop of the hat like most people have it written. That’s just not how love works. Hope you like this chapter!