Changing Minds in Hard Times

Harry awoke to Hermione kneeling beside him, shaking him roughly. He sat up quickly, his eyes darting around the room, looking for a distinct blond head of hair. He didn’t find it.



“Where’s Draco?” He demanded, his voice almost seething with a strange mixture of fear and rage.



“They took him, mate.” Ron said, sounding oddly remorseful for a guy who hated the blond Slytherins guts.



Harry looked up into the sad eyes of Ron, and pushed down the urge to cry. Now was not the time to give in to that sort of emotion. Now was the time to save Draco.



He stood up, noting that Hermione or Ron must have put his pants on for him, because he was no longer naked. He didn’t give himself time to be ashamed that they had found him naked and unconscious. There would be time for that later.



“How’d they get in?” He asked, already feeling that he knew the answer.



“Three guesses and the first two don’t count.” Ron answered, his comment filled with anger, but somehow bland.



Harry nodded, his eyes going darker as his anger took further control of him. “Moody.”



---X---



Draco remained conscious the entire trip, though he still couldn’t move. He knew exactly where they were, when the apparition spell ended. He was back at Malfoy Manor, and sickeningly enough, he was in his old room. The place that used to bring him comfort and safety.



His father released the body bind spell once Draco’s body was hovering above his bed, only to replace it with a spell that bound Draco’s limbs to the four posts of the bed. This was a spell Draco knew well, both from his childhood, and from his time spent at Voldemort’s hideout, which was just another Malfoy property. If at any time he tried to struggle, he would find himself bound tighter. If he wasn’t careful, the spell could cause dislocation of his arms and legs. Thankfully the bindings didn’t work the other way. If someone was to cause Draco’s body to move for him, the bindings wouldn’t tear his limbs from his body.



He felt another body bind hit him as he lifted his head up to see who else was in the room. His head fell back to the bed with a soft thump, but he had already seen Voldemort sitting at his old desk, seemingly reading something.



He had ignored the entrance of the young man and his father, but now, he turned to stand up. His eyes met Lucius’ cold grey eyes for only a moment, before the blond man seemed to think better of it and let his eyes drop.



“My Lord, I have brought you my son, as promised. May his presence please you.”



The Dark Lord’s robes swept the floor as he came forward towards the older Malfoy. He came to the end of Draco’s bed, and eyed the naked young blond, noting several love bites and marks on his normally perfect skin. Not that the other death eaters never left marks before – they just made sure to clean up their toy afterwards. Lucius was being sloppy, and he knew better.



His hand suddenly flew out at the standing blond man, and caused him to fly through the air several feet and crash into a portion of hard stone wall. He sagged to the floor, and groaned, looking up at his master with some awe, and some barely concealed fear.



“The time is late, Malfoy. You should have been here long ago. You leave me with little time to complete what must be done.” Voldemort hissed angrily. “And you bring me an unfit vessel. Surely you noticed these marks on the boy’s fair skin…you should have healed them.” His long fingernails brushed along several of the love bite marks Harry had left.



Draco would have flinched, or tried to move away from the evil man’s touch, but the body bind held him securely.



“Leave us, Malfoy. You are dismissed.”



Draco could hear the scuffling and hurried footsteps of his father as he exited the room and closed the door with a soft click behind him. He knew his father feared Voldemort, which was something he found quite odd. He had been told as a youngster that ‘A Malfoy bows to no one.’ But yet, his father had spent many years bowing and pleading to please this half human creature. Clearly his father was a hypocrite.



Voldemort released the body bind on the young man bound before him, and drew his attention.



“I believe this was yours, Draco?”



What he held, and probably had been reading, was Draco’s old journal. He was sure he had written things in there that he didn’t want anyone else to read – including some of his best wet dreams involving Harry. He groaned mentally and refused to reply.



The Dark Lord smirked and tossed the book to the floor, before disrobing with a flick of his hand. It seemed Voldemort could work wandless magic just as Harry could. For a brief moment Draco wondered who would be stronger in a one on one wandless battle – Harry, or Voldemort – but he pushed that aside as the man he hated climbed up into the bed.



Draco tried to remind himself that this was nothing new. His father’s master had raped him countless times before, but this time it felt like it was all new. He turned his head away as the bastard’s long fingernails breached his passage and seemed to be sizing him up.



“Ah, so young Harry Potter got here first, I see. Well, no matter.”



It seemed only moments later that Draco was being filled yet again, but this time, unwillingly. He hated every thrust the other man made. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to scream, and fight, and get away. But there was nothing he could do now, and Harry couldn’t come to save him. The wards on the Manor were too great. He just had to wait.



After being violated as many times as Voldemort could manage before time was out, Draco lay on the bed, trying not to feel. He watched as the disgusting man disappeared into his bathroom, and then came out again several minutes later, redressed and apparently clean.



The Dark Lord gestured to one of the strong wooden bars of the canopy bed, and Draco suddenly found himself suspended from it, feet in the air.



“We’ll just leave you there for an hour or so.” He said. “Best not risk losing any of my precious sperm to the forces of gravity.” Then he laughed, and left the room.



The blond hung there alone and cried.



---X---



Harry was brought to the room where an enraged Alastair Moody thrashed about, demanding to be released from the small shielded cage he had been put into. He had enough room to take two steps to any side from the center, but he insisted on spinning around dangerously, shaking the bars and testing the magic wards.



Harry had been told, as he strode through the halls of Hogwarts on his way to face Moody, that Hogwarts was again safe and the wards were reestablished. He demanded that more wards be put up. He would not have this happening again.



Finally he stood face to face with the man.



“Let me OUT!” Moody demanded gruffly.



“No.” Harry said simply. “You endangered the lives of everyone in Hogwarts. You were the one who took down the wards. You told them when to be ready. You told them where my room was. You are responsible, Moody, and worst of all, you failed to even consider that it might be you who has been releasing information to the enemy. You are the reason Draco is gone. And I will never forgive you for that. Never.”



For once in the time since he had been apprehended, Moody was still and silent.



Then he nodded. “It was me. I could claim that it was completely the spells doing, but that Malfoy brat just gets to me. I admit to knowing about the spell on me, but I thought I could control it. And then, when you gave sanctuary to the young Malfoy, I snapped. I refused to let myself believe he could be innocent of anything. My obsession with proving he was a death eater aided the spell I was under to grow and further take over my mind. I’m sorry, Harry.”



Harry shook his head. He couldn’t talk to the man anymore. He left the room, followed by Hermione and Ron.



Hermione was the first to suggest viewing Moody’s memories using the Headmaster’s pensive. Surely they could find out who was involved, and get information on how to get Draco back. Harry and Ron agreed.



---X---



Draco still hung from the upper support of the canopy bed. The clock in his room chimed three a.m. and he knew he had been up there for around two hours. The chances that he had conceived a child on this night were high, and he could only hope that it had been Harry’s young sperm that had made it, over Voldemort’s.



He wondered what he would do if he found out it was Voldemort’s child he had conceived, instead of Harry’s. Would he have the guts to abort it? Could he abort it? For sure, he didn’t want any child that Voldemort could give him.



A noise at the door brought his attention back to the real world, and he watched as Voldemort came back in, followed by his father. Voldemort used his wand this time to bring Draco down from where he had been hanging, and dropped him onto the bed in yet another body bind.



“Well, young Malfoy, though I hate to do this, I have been made well aware that young Harry will not stand for you to be kept by me. So, I will return you to him. With a few modifications, of course.”



Draco felt several spells hitting his body in various places. He didn’t know what some of them were, because Voldemort had done them silently. Others, he knew what they were.



---X---



Harry, Hermione, and Ron swirled into the mists of Moody’s memories of earlier that night. Images flew by. Moody casting Tempus, leaving his room, stupefying his guards, and letting down the wards on Hogwarts. Moody greeting and leading several death eaters into the building, including Lucius Malfoy. Moody gesturing to the door to Harry’s room, and being hit with a Stupify himself, when the death eaters were done with him. Then one last memory of hearing a voice as his consciousness swam towards darkness. “Apperate to Malfoy Manor, that’s where our Lord is waiting for us.” It was Lucius Malfoy’s voice.



It wasn’t much later that Harry stood just outside the wards of Malfoy Manor, staring into its grounds, waiting for something. He found what he was looking for when the noisy crack of Apperating sounded nearby. And there, just inside the protections of the Manor, stood Voldemort with his wand pointed at a naked young Malfoy before him, and a scowling Lucius Malfoy beside him.



“I knew you couldn’t stay away long, young Harry. I suppose you have come to tell me that you’ll never give up until young Draco here is given back to you?”



“You know me too well, Voldemort.” Harry gritted out. He had just noticed the large tattoo Voldemort had undoubtedly burned into Draco’s abdomen. Clearly he thought it a fitting sign that his seed was competing with Harry’s, and due to the size of Voldemort’s crest compared to the one of Harry’s on Draco’s back, he probably thought he had won, and that it would be his seed that would cause Draco to become pregnant.



Harry grimaced. The thought of Voldemort even having seed was revolting, let alone the thought of him having sex.



“Well then Harry, I’m afraid I can’t have you constantly looking over my shoulder because of one young man, whether or not he carries my child. See, I’ve placed some spells on him. For example, my seed cannot be removed from him by magic or tampering. Also, any child of mine he conceives cannot be removed from his body without Draco dying as well.”



Harry nodded. He almost expected as much from Voldemort.



The half man half creature seemed to take that as as much of an answer as he was going to get, because he pushed the young blond forward, and watched as he stumbled across the wards of the Manor and out to Harry Potter.



Draco knew what was going on. He knew that Harry was there to take him back, and that Harry would love him no matter what, but he was sick with worry about what might be growing inside of him. He wanted Harry’s child. Not the Dark Bastard’s.



Harry noted the look on Draco’s face, the almost dull sheen in his eyes, and decided on the course of action Hermione had suggested. She, in her reading on Harry’s and Draco’s situation, had discovered something that would perhaps make everything better for them, if it worked.



He waited until Draco came up to him, and then watched as the blond fell tiredly to his knees. Harry helped him up, brushed the mess of usually perfect hair from Draco’s face, and kissed him gently. At the same time, his hand drifted down the blonds’ back before coming to the small of his back, near his ass.



Harry caressed the area gently, before covering the mark on Draco’s back with his hand, and accepting the tug of magic he felt there as it rushed through his body and out into Draco’s.



Draco’s eyes went wide as he felt Harry’s hand on the mark, and then the rush of magic flowing through him. Almost lighting fast, he felt the mark on his back reach into him, and then through him, burning the mark Voldemort had left from his body. At the same time, he felt a harsh pain rip through his body and the odd feeling of Voldemort’s seed protection spell disappearing from existence, and a gush of wetness flowing down the inside of his legs. He looked down in wonder at what looked like what he had known from his time as the death eater’s whore. The liquid was a pale milky white, and looked exactly like cum.



He looked up into Harry’s worried green eyes as the pain subsided from his body. He knew better then to hope that was the end of it.



Harry turned his attention back to the Dark Lord, who eyed the display of magic with a thoughtful frown.



“Don’t think you’ve won, Harry. I have more spells in place then you think.” And then he and Lucius Malfoy disappeared, leaving Harry standing outside Malfoy Manor with a naked Draco in his arms, and flanked by Ron and Hermione, who had the sense to look worried.



---

Note: Now, I need a bit of a vote. There's a few ways I can take this story, and I want to know if you people prefer I end it soon, or make yet ANOTHER story out of the part after this, if you want it to continue. So, what is it to be? Long or short?