Madame Scarlet's

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for her diligent beta of this story no matter where it takes me.

Chapter 15 Lost

“What do you mean Malfoy’s taken them?” Minerva hissed sharply at her ailing colleague.

Thanks to Ron and Hermione, Minerva had been alerted to the breach in the wards and had arrived at Gryffindor Tower in time to see the ruins of the Seventh Year dormitories and to find a dying Potions Master sprawled on the floor. The students all had a million questions for her when she emerged from the room, but she had answers for no one. She had done what she could to halt Snape’s bleeding, and sent a boy off to fetch Madam Pomfrey, but there was little else she could do until she heard the entire story.

Things had been spiraling out of control since Dumbledore’s death. The wards around the castle were weakening on a daily basis it seemed, and the war had taken its toll on them as well. She knew she could never hope to match the power Albus once had in this castle, her magic simply wasn’t strong enough to renew the ancient building to its former glory on her own and she’d been hesitant to request the Ministry’s assistance considering their ugly history with Hogwarts. Besides, she knew the Ministry was in shambles itself as it struggled to rise from the ruins Lord Voldemort had left in his wake. Minerva had hoped that the end of Voldemort and the secure reputation Hogwarts had upheld for centuries would be enough to keep would be attackers at bay for the time being, but tonight’s breach was a clear sign that she was mistaken. Albus had been attuned to the wards in a way she’d always assumed would pass down to her as the new Headmistress, but it was as if the castle didn’t recognize her as its guardian. Perhaps the school thought that someone else was better suited for the job and, not for the first time, Minerva worried that Albus had chosen a poor replacement as Headmaster.

The students had seen the skirmish, but their minds were left fuzzy on any details. Whoever had broken in and attacked her school had cast a very powerful confusion spell over the lot of them, so that even Ron and Hermione had been unsure why they were fetching her from her office.

It was only when Snape finally roused from his recovering sleep that she received the full story. She could hardly believe her ears when she learned that a man she’d grown to trust had been harvesting students from their school to participate in activities her mind had yet to grasp. Despite being understandably reluctant to divulge any details, Snape had been forced to tell her the tale in its entirety because she simply couldn’t comprehend why Snape, Harry, Draco and Lucius would all be somehow involved in this twisted plot. By the time the Potions Master reached the end of his story Minerva wished she had heard the edited version and not asked so many questions. It made her feel quite ill.

That her dear Harry was an Incubus explained so much. Lily had been quite the alluring beauty in her day and Minerva had always sensed there was something more to it than common attraction. Minerva only wished she’d been less busy trying to hold the school together had been able to see the signs of Harry’s true nature before Snape had caught wind and exploited it.

“I’ve half a mind to Hex you into smithereens, Severus,” she ground out, her face set in the sternest of looks.

“I would no doubt deserve it.” The words were punctuated by a groan and a wince as he tried to sit up in his bed. She had no idea if it was planned to bring about pity or not, but either way it worked. “I should have refrained from touching him, but he was just so…have you ever had an Incubus, Minerva?”

“No,” she huffed briskly. It was well below her to discuss her previous relationships with a man who had betrayed them all for years. Apparently even Dumbledore had been blind to their scheme.

“Well, they’re…delicious and addictive,” he replied. “Once you’ve had an Incubus, all other sex seems quite ordinary and dull.”

“Are you trying to excuse your actions? Because in my eyes, your abhorrent behavior-”

“Inexcusable,” he finished for her quickly so he might avoid another lecture he did not need; he already knew he’d crossed many lines more times than he could remember. “I know. Trust me, I do. I’d like to offer my assistance in getting the boy back for you before you act out your punishment upon me. I know where the brothel is, I can take you there.”

“We’ll leave the moment you’re up to Apparating,” she assured him, loathe to even give him time to recover. She wanted to get her students back; Snape’s welfare was the last thing on her mind, but she knew if he Splinched himself trying to help them, he wouldn’t be even remotely useful in trying to find the two Seventh years. She had heard rumors of a relationship blooming between Harry and the young Malfoy boy, but she hadn’t thought much of it. They had a cord of tension between them so tight that you could play a concerto upon it. It seemed only natural that both boys should find a release for that tension with each other. She had seen it happen before and wasn’t surprised to see it finally manifest, although had she known the full scenario behind it she might have stepped in and meddled, as Albus surely would have.

Severus nodded and slipped back into a restless sleep while she sat there and pondered her options. She couldn’t go alone with Snape, it could be a trap after all, but she didn’t know who to trust enough with the whole story. The answer to her problem waltzed through the door in the form of Ron and Hermione who chose that moment to wander into the infirmary to see if she had any more information on Harry’s whereabouts. She would normally never think of risking the safety of her students, but these two had proven themselves more than capable in combat and would do anything for their closest friend.

Knowing these two, they would try and track Harry on their own if she didn’t invite them along with her anyway, which could be more dangerous than the three of them teaming up. She comforted herself with the assurance that this arrangement would be safest for all of them.

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Snape walked in brisk strides, trying to cover the fact that his body still ached from having his own Hex used against him by that rat of a Malfoy. The more he thought on it the more he decided the nickname of ‘ferret’ given to the man’s son was far too kind of a name to be used on the elder Malfoy. It sickened him to know that he had once been in love with the man, and worse – that part of him still was.

Deep down he knew his love for Potter was false, but it drove him to the boy’s rescue all the same. He felt the need to protect him, to care for him, and to make sure no harm befell his precious head. Minerva, Granger and Weasley were trailing along after him through the London streets. He would have protested about the last, not seeing what assistance a Weasley could possibly provide, but he was in no place to argue the wished of the Headmistress. She could have him wasting away in Azkaban with a wave of her tiny pinky, so he would do nothing to further anger her.

As he approached the sign that read simply ‘Madame Scarlet’s’, he noticed something peculiar about the door. The frosted glass around the gold leaf letters was cracked. He quickly extracted his wand and gestured for the others to follow suit. The handle was unlatched, so he pushed gently on the door, watching it creak open to reveal an empty foyer.

His face set into a puzzled frown, Snape wandered though the lower floors, his wand leveled and ready to Hex anything that moved. It was as if someone had stripped the place bare, even the wallpaper had been torn from the walls. There was no furniture, no insipid Muggle staff and, more importantly, no Incubi.

As Weasley and Granger continued to patrol downstairs, he and Minerva went up to the next floor where he led her into a barren office. He checked the other rooms, just to make certain, though it seemed fairly clear that Lucius had already vacated the building while Snape slowly recovered from his wounds. It was only in the last room that he found any evidence that the man had even been there.

He heard Minerva gasp behind him and he quickly ushered her from the room as he went to check on the girl who was chained and naked on the floor. He didn’t recognize the blonde girl at first; her face was twisted in agony, set in that mask forever in rigor mortis. Her wrists were still bound in iron and her fingertips were bloody from trying to claw out of them. Gaping wounds crisscrossed her body and he sighed as he realized that this was Abigail, one of their most promising girls. He’d heard rumors that the blonde had tried to start an uprising against them, but since Snape rarely spent time in the brothel, he’d only heard what Lucius had wanted him to know. He had no idea she’d been punished so extremely.

Snape knew that his partner had left her body here on purpose, a taunting note to say that Lucius could do whatever he liked and there was nothing Severus could do to stop him. He cast a powerful Incendio and watched as the woman’s body was cremated before his very eyes. Taking a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the sickly smell of torched flesh to remind him of what he’d caused, Snape turned and left the room, unable to meet Minerva’s stern gaze. He went downstairs and checked the concubine enclosure just in case but it was as vacant as he’d expected it to be.

“I’m afraid I’ve no idea where he’s taken them. Malfoy Manor is large enough to hold them but Narcissa is no fool. She would never permit him to run such a place under her own roof. He could have temporarily split them up, or he could have been planning to move the establishment for a long time. With Lucius, I cannot guess. He’s far too clever and scheming for his own good.” It was obvious that Snape was bitter, and while both Granger and Minerva looked thoughtful, as if they were wracking their brilliant minds for ideas, Weasley just glared at him, his blue eyes smoldering with a passion Snape had never seen exerted on his potions homework.

“You’ve violated our friend,” he growled, breaking the tense silence and leveling his wand at Snape’s chest. “You’ve gotten him captured by the Malfoys and now you tell us there is nothing more you can do? Why should we keep you alive?”

Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes at the whelp and won – barely. “For starters, there isn’t a thing you could do with that defective wand that would cause me fatal harm. Besides, I never said there was nothing more that I could do. I simply pointed out that the current path is a dead end.”

“So, you have a suggestion?” Granger asked, looking annoyed with both her boyfriend and her potions professor simultaneously. No doubt it went against all her prudish obedience to Hex her professor, but there was no part of Snape that suspected those traits would keep her from doing just that were he to attack the Weasley brat.

“I suggest we find the Cambions,” Snape replied, his voice thick with ancient reverence. For Lucius this endeavor had always been about sex and profit, but for Snape it was largely his curiosity for all things magical, though the pull of the Incubus was undeniable, he was never the professional whore that Lucius became. The draw he felt to the Cambion race was unmistakable and he wanted to learn everything he could about it. In hindsight, he realized it was a foolish idea to try to capture and harness a magical race that could be traced to Merlin’s own blood, but he desperately wanted to do just that.

“That’s just a legend,” Minerva whispered, but she didn’t sound very certain.

“It’s not,” Snape assured, “I can promise you that, and I know just the person to help us.”

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Draco had never been in this building before, though he had visited Madame Scarlet’s on a few occasions in the past. It was similar, as similar as it probably could have been while occupying a different Muggle building, and Draco wondered why they had moved at all. That answer came very quickly though, as Draco thought about his dying godfather bleeding out on the floor. Lucius clearly hoped the man was dead, but Draco had seen him weather a good deal of torture in the war. He was confident that Snape would recover.

But even if he didn’t survive, with the capture of Harry Potter, Draco knew it would only be a matter of time before someone came to take his father down. He hoped he could get away with Harry before that happened. Instead of into the basement, where Draco had suspected his father would take them, Lucius led them upstairs and into his own private office. It was a mirror of the old one, right down to the raunchy painting on the mantle.

As Draco turned away from it, he saw that his father had already stripped Harry bare and had him on his knees facing away from them both. He looked down quickly, unable to watch his father defile his Mate. “Please don’t do this, Father.”

“What do you care?” Lucius snapped. “He’s betrayed you, you said so yourself. He let Severus violate the tenuous relationship you had. He chose him over you. He deserves to be punished.”

“Not like this,” Draco whispered as his father removed his belt and popped it ominously in his hands. Draco had been feeling terrible about fetching his father as vengeance against Harry. He’d regretted it from the moment he saw the hungry look in his father’s eyes when Draco stepped through the fireplace at Malfoy Manor with a tear stained face. He had planned to let his mother console him and to see if she knew anything about shielding and bonds, but Lucius had been waiting on the other end of the Floo instead and had shown enough compassion to get his son to spill his troubles.

“Strike him,” Lucius ordered, holding out his thick leather belt to his son, who shook his head adamantly.

“No! I can’t do that to him. I love him, Father,” Draco admitted and cried out as the belt came sharply across his face instead.

“Insolent boy,” Lucius growled. “Have I taught you nothing?”

Draco clutched a hand to his face and held back a sob as he felt a thin cut and a deep welt forming on his pale flesh. “Could you do this to Mother?” Draco demanded. He thought that countering his feelings with logic might do the task his emotions couldn’t do before.

“I could if she betrayed me,” Lucius assured him and Draco knew he was telling the truth. His father would see his wife there on her knees just as surely as Harry was there now.

He wished he could see his lover’s face, wished he could tell the boy with his eyes how sorry he was for getting them into this mess. “I can’t do that to Harry.”

“Then I will, and my strikes will be far less tender,” Lucius warned.

Draco bit into his bottom lip with indecision. As much as Harry had hurt him, he didn’t wish to inflict pain upon his lover, but would it be worse for Harry if he refused now? He reached out with a trembling hand and took the belt from his father’s hand, ignoring the smirk on the man’s lips. He raised it up; ready to bring it down in a slow arch so as to cause the least damage and pain, but he couldn’t do it. His hand fell to his side and the belt fell to the ground. “I can’t do it,” he whispered at last.

“If you disobey me, I will make Potter my own. He’ll be the one I violate when the whim takes me.” Lucius leaned in close to his son so that Draco could both look into his eyes and hear the man’s words as clear as a bell. “I will bury my cock inside of him and ruin him for you and everyone else.”

A choked and gasping sob stuck like a solid lump in his throat and Draco almost fell to his knees at the pain of being so torn between having to hurt Harry and wanting to save him from his father. Harry turned then and his red-ringed emerald gaze met Draco’s directly. It felt like fire flamed through him and the sob finally broke loose. “Just do it,” Harry ordered coldly.

“I can’t,” Draco cried, sniffling uncontrollably.

“This is what you wanted, Malfoy,” Harry stated blandly. There was no love, no hate, and no emotion in between. It was as if something had sucked Harry’s heart out and replaced it with dry cotton. “Punish me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Harry,” Draco pleaded.

“That’s all we’ll ever do to one another, Malfoy,” he replied in that same stolid tone.

“You heard the boy. He wants it, he knows he deserves it,” Lucius goaded, a wicked smile on his face.

“Please don’t make me,” Draco sobbed.

“Hit me, Malfoy!” Harry ordered, his voice a sharp hiss. “I fucked Severus and I enjoyed it, punish me.”

“No,” Draco replied, but the belt was in his hand again and his entire arm twitched.

“I screamed for him, Malfoy. I forgot all about you when his cock was inside of me,” Harry told him dispassionately. “You know you want to make me pay.”

“I don’t,” Draco replied through gritted teeth.

“If you don’t, I’ll end up fucking your father too,” Harry reminded him, making it sound like a lurid desire, but Draco could see what the boy wanted. He’d rather select his own punishment rather than be forced into a different one.

Draco brought the belt down on Harry’s back with as little force as he could and still leave a mark. He knew his father well enough to know that Lucius would not be happy until Harry was marked.

“Again,” Lucius ordered, his breath hitching with desire.

Draco reluctantly obeyed; closing his eyes against the violent flinch Harry gave at the contact. It was demanded that Draco bring the belt against Harry’s back until it was a bloody mess. When Lucius had quieted his commands, Draco collapsed beside his Mate and tried to get Harry to look up and meet his gaze. “I love you, Harry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, but Harry only winced and pulled away from him as Lucius laughed wickedly.

“So easily broken,” he mused.

Draco ignored his father and tried again to pull Harry into his arms, but the boy obstinately refused. “We’re even now,” he rasped, his eyes a terrible red from holding back his tears. “Bond or no, I want nothing more to do with you. Leave me alone.”

Draco closed his eyes to stave off his own cries. If Harry had refrained from showing his pain while Draco beat him, than he could do the same. He sniffed and drew himself up to his full height, leaving Harry on the floor. He might be hurting, he might have lost the love of his life, his Mate, his destiny, but he was still a Malfoy. “As you like,” he replied as his father smirked behind him.

“Come, my boy,” Lucius sneered. “I have a room full of concubines who will fall over themselves to sate your hunger. You don’t need Potter. He’s unworthy of a Malfoy’s attention.”

He cast one last lingering glance down at the bloodied, naked boy on the ground, his raven hair in sweaty tendrils around his face but Harry refused to look up, so Draco steeled himself and gave his father a curt nod before following him out into the corridor.

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Author's Note: More explanations, more troubles...whatever will this pair do? Is it going to be poor Draco or poor Harry you're all screaming at me this time? lol