A Whispered Confession Can Change Everything

Chapter 1

Hermione wandered slowly into the Gryffindor common room, lost in thought. Her quick mind worked furiously, trying to figure out what the Headmaster could have been told to make it so dire that Draco Malfoy of all people be protected. She could understand if it were financially motivated or even politics but both professors were showing genuine concern. It couldn’t be anything short of life threatening she would wager.

She sat down slowly in the plush chair, staring into the fire place. The boy was a foul little cockroach that had taken perverse pleasure in making her Hogwarts career miserable from the beginning. He was rude to anyone he didn’t respect, which was almost everyone except a few of the professors. He loved to prank the muggleborn students and he terrorized the younger years...why would Dumbledore waste the effort on someone like him? Harry came down from the dorms, plopping in the couch next to her and sending her a quirk of a grin that quickly fell off. He shook his black hair out of his eyes in irritation. She was really worried about something, “You okay, Mione?”

Hermione startled back to awareness, taking a quick look around to see it was just her and Harry, “Where’s Ron?”

Shrugging lazily, leaning back but his eyes intense and alert, “Getting in a little flying. Probably won’t be back- Mione?” She grabbed him at the arm, dragging him out of the tower and down a flight of steps, then over to a secluded alcove. Waving her wand, she cast a privacy charm before leaning back against the stone wall and forcing her breath out in even intervals to calm down. He raised an eyebrow at that. She wasn’t supposed to know about those charms. Not till fifth year, “Hermione? You okay?”

Closing her eyes and shaking her head, “No. No, Harry I’m not.”

His brow furrowed in concern, “What’s wrong?”

Choking out a laugh, “Everything, apparently.” She brought her hands to her face, sighing through them before tucking her hair behind her ears. Licking her lips and swallowing, “Dumbledore wants to have tea with us tomorrow. Not Ron, just you and I.”

His arms slowly crossing defensively, “But that’s not what has you upset.”

A sad grin tugging at her lips. She remembered the bright-eyed boy first year. Filled with wonder and happiness of this magical place. She could see the damage being done to his wonderful innocence with each passing year, “No. You’re right. McGonagall will also be there...along with Snape, Parkinson...” Wincing minutely, “...and Malfoy.”

Harry tensed and fisted his hands to keep from growling, “Why? Did that git get us expelled or something?”

Smiling sadly that he would jump to that conclusion, and she would be just as guilty, “No Harry...that git’s in trouble...and we’re going to help him.”

Eyes widening in indignation, “What?! Like hell-...”

She clapped a hand over his mouth, shushing him, “Just listen to me Harry. Just listen.” She lowered her hand, waiting for him to nod slightly before continuing, “Malfoy doesn’t know they’re doing this. He’s only being told this is a tea with the Headmaster. This is something bad, Harry, really bad. It’s about his family I...I think they’re abusing him...” It had the ring of truth to her. And as she thought about what interactions she’d had with the blond, she was starting to see it.

Harry backed up a pace, calmer and face expressionless, “They’re beating him?” He wasn’t sure he believed it. If someone hit him, he’d talk to Dumbledore, no problem.

“I don’t know...maybe. Can you honestly imagine Lucius Malfoy to be a kind and understanding father?”

Harry shuddered at the thought. He remembered him. Tall, cold, and carrying that snakehead cane like his own personal weapon. Now that he thought of it, he could easily imagine a man like that beating his own son. And someone like that might scare his own son into not telling, “No.”

Hermione stepped forward and grabbed his wrists. She had to get through to him about this. Instinctively she knew this was a dangerous game the Headmaster was playing and he was going to need every advantage. She’d heard whispers in the castle about the Malfoys. Ties directly to Voldemort. She could only imagine how much power Lucius Malfoy really had, “You can’t tell anyone, Harry. Not even Ron.” Making a face, “Especially Ron. He wouldn’t understand. And worse, if this gets back to his family...at the very least Dumbledore might get sacked and at worst...”

He searched her eyes, “What?”

Swallowing once, whispering with a grimace, “The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall are worried his family might do something to him...”

Harry nodded slowly in understanding, lost in his thoughts. He thought about his own relatives. They weren’t the nicest of people but if Dumbledore was scrambling to help Malfoy it had to be really bad. He didn’t like the prick but he’d never wish something like this on him. He nodded before sighing in resignation. Grimacing, “Tea tomorrow with Snape...sounds lovely...”

***

Draco Malfoy wore a newly pressed uniform and his best manners when he strode through the Headmaster’s door, Pansy Parkinson at his side. She’d played her part beautifully, making little snide remarks about Dumbledore and the Gryffindors all the way here. He’d given her a few smirks but had remained silent, looking bored even if his eyes had been alert as ever.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Parkinson...we’d begun to give up hope. Please, sit.”

Draco bowed stiffly allowing Pansy to sit at his right before slowly sitting, not more than a few feet from Hermione, “Headmaster.” He didn’t move an inch to look at them, glancing at Severus Snape who looked put out, sipping tea and munching on a biscuit. In fact they all were, including Pansy who’d made such a fuss about coming in the first place. But it would be rude if he didn’t partake as everyone else had, taking a sip and pausing at the flavor that burst across his tongue.

It was addictive and before too long, between exchanges of strained pleasantries he’d managed to polish off three cups. Albus glanced at Severus, the Potion’s master studying Draco as he started to slowly sway in his chair. It was just a slight, repetitive motion, but one the young Malfoy would have put an immediate stop to had he been aware of it.

Severus put down his cup, folding his hands, “Mr. Malfoy...are you quite all right?”

He blinked languidly but didn’t shift, “Not really...I’ve had a headache all day...” Draco felt a jolt of surprise within him. He hadn’t meant to say that. It’s not that it wasn’t true but he certainly wouldn’t talk about it in front of Gryffindors.

The potion’s master knew of the boy’s headaches. The fact that he would openly discuss the ailment was a good sign the serum was working, “And what do you think of Miss Granger?”

Hermione felt color flush her face, sure she was about to hear his colorful thoughts, “...she looks pretty when she braids her hair up...” Hermione colored for an entirely different reason while Snape nodded in satisfaction.

Albus waited for the nod, “You may enter, gentlemen.” The back room opened and four Aurors came inside, one of them Arthur Weasley. The more witnesses, the less likely Lucius could win. Albus leaned forward, his expression gentle, “Draco, tell me your full name please.”

He twitched. Sighing, “...Draco Black Malfoy...”

“And how old are you?”

But he was starting to understand he had not choice, no matter how much he fought, “...ten...eleven in August...”

“Draco, do you like it here at Hogwarts?”

He wanted to sneer. To put on his usual front around the Headmaster but the training ingrained in his very character wasn’t cooperating. Instead he shrugged a little, his words almost monotone and his gaze out of focus, “...yes...sometimes...”

Harry grinned a little at that. He felt the same way, “Is it better here than at home?”

His answer was immediate,“...anything’s better than home...” All faces in the room darkened, a chill setting into the room. Everyone came into this with an idea of abuse, but only one knew the extent of it.

“Why?”

Internally sighing, stopping his fight. It was useless and frankly he was tired though he did manage to send Snape a glare as he was the only one who could have brewed this,“...because...because father... he’s displeased with me so he’ll yell at me...I’m useless, pathetic, not a true Malfoy...a disgrace...and he locks me in my room or-or he takes away my wand and curses me...or he whips me for my grades...or for not catching the snitch...or for losing a duel-...”

Harry felt the color drain out of his face. He’d always focused on Malfoy’s cockiness. Wanting to take the arrogant git down a notch or just to shut him up. So every time the blond Slytherin went up against him he was only too happy to defeat him. If his actions caused Lucius to abuse him Harry now felt responsible, “Draco, how long does your father lock you in your room?”

“...days...more sometimes if I c-cry...”

Snape flinched to himself. He’d encouraged the boy to confront Potter at every opportunity. And it’s not that he was disappointed in his young godson. It was guilt. His guilt, “And do you receive food and water every day?”

“...no...he forgets...”

Pansy had traces of tears in her eyes, Hermione was wringing her hands and Harry had his hands fisted tightly in anger. Snape closed his eyes, forcing his breath to slow. He was the best spy in the nation, undetected among the Death eaters, but if he’d known before now he would have blow his cover to kill Lucius Malfoy, “Draco, what does your father curse you with?”

“...his wand...fourteen inch ebony with an Orc’s hair...”

Nodding though his normally twinkling eyes were saddened and hard at the moment, “Yes, but what curses does he use?”

There was a twitch from Draco, before he relaxed into the answer,“...Crucio...Imperio...various pain curses.. boils...cuts-...”

Pansy bit into her lip hard. Hard enough to bleed, “Has he ever struck you with his hand?”

“...yes...not the face...never the face...I bruise easily...”

“His fist?”

“...yes...ribs...stomach...chest...” Hermione looked carefully into the nearly blank face next to her.
But she could see it. His eyes were alight with anger and fear. It just made it worse. They were forcing the truth from him and he was powerless to prevent it.

Covering her mouth with her hands, “I’m sorry...”

Albus glanced at Hermione but she shook her head at the Headmaster and he nodded, focusing back on Draco, “Has he ever broken any of your bones intentionally?”

“...yes...all of them...”

Harry made a strangled sound and ground his teeth together, “Draco how does your father whip you?”

Draco’s brow furrowed just a little,“...a whip...braided leather...sharp metal edges...”

Pansy covered her mouth to keep from screaming, her shoulders shaking. Deciding it was time for the
question that would most probably turn this all out. The statement that Moaning Myrtle had made to him that had him scrambling to help the boy, “Draco, has your father ever locked you in his dungeons below Malfoy Manor?”

Draco twitched but said nothing. Albus felt surprise jolt through him. The boy was supposed to be unconscious of what was going on, “Draco, did your father lock you in his dungeons to torture you?”

Draco strained, hands wrapping around the arms of his chair as he shook his head, all of his body fighting to not respond. It was quite impressive considering the strength of the potion. Albus felt sadness wash over him. So Draco was both aware and strong enough to fight the effects.

“Stop.” Heads swung around to stare at Hermione who was frozen by the pain she could see in Malfoy’s eyes, “Please stop...you’re hurting him.”

Draco physically jolted at her words, never expecting to hear an ounce of protectiveness from her. Albus steeled himself. The instant Myrtle had referenced her father he knew exactly what had happened. He blamed himself for not seeing it, for letting Draco suffer because of his own complacency. But to help him, he would have to hurt the boy first. It was not the first time he would do what was necessary and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. He leaned in closer, sorry to do this but knowing he had to, “Did Lucius Malfoy rape you in those dungeons-...”

“YES!” Draco stood up straight with a gasp before giving a shriek and stumbling over his chair, past the Aurors to curl up in the corner. There was no office anymore, no Gryffindors and no Dumbledore. All that was left in Draco’s confused, muddled mind was the dungeon and the past.

“Albus, it’s enough!”

Dumbledore nodded, squeezing Minerva’s shoulder before carefully pursuing the frightened boy. Hermione closed her eyes tightly, hand over her mouth and trying to mentally deny what she knew was the truth. The Headmaster ambled past the other wizards, stopping short when Draco gave a sharp scream and curled up even more. Kneeling down as much as he was able to not frighten the boy further, “Draco...Draco, calm yourself-...”

“I’m sorry! Father, please not the dungeons...I swear I’ll do better! I’ll catch the snitch! I will! I promise! Please...please...please...” He wouldn’t go back there. He wouldn’t. He’d kill himself first. He was reduced to pitiful sobs, his small body shaking in fear and pain. Severus slowly released the wooden arm rests he’d broken in his grip, leaning forward to hang his head.

Pansy just wept continuously, silently. Closing his eyes, pulling the name from long ago, when Albus had met Narcissa and young Draco for the first time, without Lucius, “Little Dragon...it’s alright...”

Severus straightened while Draco seemed to calm just a little, head slowly peaking up from his bent knees to look at the aged wizard. His head tilted to one side for a moment, a tear slinking from the corner of his eye. At this moment his voice sounded so very, very young, “I know you...”

Giving him a warm smile, “Yes, Draco, you know me...from long ago...”

Nibbling on his lip nervously, his mind still confused. He felt older and yet undeniably younger at the same time, “You’re not...no dungeons?”

Nodding, eyes twinkling invitingly, “I promise. I would like very much if you would come here.”

Frowning, “Why?”

“Well, I have some medicine for you in this vial. It will make you feel much better.”

Wrinkling his nose, his mind sidetracked by the thought of potions. He didn’t even realize there were other people in the room, “I don’t like any potions except the one’s my godfather makes. He puts peppermint in mine.”

Snape shuddered, feeling his image as the nasty potion’s master crumble up and die. Potter actually had the audacity to half heartedly smirk, much to his annoyance, “Well, Draco, I dare say your Godfather made this particular potion and it does smell of mint.”

Draco inched over a little at a time and before too long he was nestled calmly in the Headmaster’s side,
drinking his potion as told before leaning into the man’s arms. Within seconds the fogginess that had seemed to cover Draco’s eyes with submission slowly lifted. No, not peppermint in the potion. A charm to fool the senses into thinking there was. He remembered that now. He remembered a lot of things all of a sudden. Stiffening, moving back to stare at the Headmaster. The conversation all came rushing back to him, “What did you do?”

Remorse in his eyes, “What had to be done, dear boy.”

Shaking his head back in forth, scrambling back and flattening himself against the bookcase. Scrubbing his face frantically, he looked back and forth between all the faces, looking at him with pity and sadness, “What did you DO?!”

“Draco-...”

He knew instantly what they were all about. Father, they were trying to get him away from his father. His best friend. She’d known? But he’d never told her. Roaring at her angrily, “Pansy! How could you?!”

Her chin trembled, hands lying uselessly in her lap. She’d betrayed him, she knew that’s how he would
see it but she couldn’t do nothing. He’d been a ghost of his former self this year. She’d seen him slip a few times, seen the terror and despair in his eyes. She’d been losing him and she was Slytherin enough to know it, “I had to Dray.”

“No! No, you can’t do this! I won’t let you- I lied! It was a lie! Ha ha, every last bit of it! Father never lifted a hand to me. There was no starving, no beatings and no dun-...no dun-...” Draco shook and lowered his head for half a moment before flinging himself at Albus with a wordless cry. Harry jumped but the old wizard seemed to expect this, effortlessly catching both wrists before they could damage either of them, “You can’t do this...you can’t...I...don’t-...”

Draco tugged once in a futile attempt to escape, Dumbledore shaking his head to himself, “Hush now, lad.” Just as quickly as the fire began it was extinguished and Draco slowly dropped to his knees, body bowing in misery as he started to sob. Now he was released but he didn’t fight the old wizard. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, huddled there on the floor. He couldn’t lie about that. As fearful of his father’s reaction to this mess, he feared the dungeons even more.

Albus nodded to the Aurors who started dismantling the recording spell while he carefully sat against the bookcase. Now situated for a no doubt long stay, he pulled the distraught boy into his lap and held onto him gently. Draco didn’t fight him again, curling up against the firm chest and closing his eyes as tears coursed down his cheeks.

What was he going to do? He’d been tricked, tricked well. If it weren’t him he would be proud of all of them. They weren’t going to win. His father always came out on top and his mother was useless. He loved her, but she was weak. Lucius had won when his grandmother had tried to take him away. Then she’d died and he’d been suspicious ever since. But it just ingrained the fear in him to do as his father wished. But they were going to fight Lucius, and when they lost he’d probably get worse than the dungeon. But he had the small hope that maybe father would just kill him.

Minerva made a few shooing gestures, convincing the other three to slowly exit before waiting as guard
for the Aurors to do their business and leave. Arthur Weasley was the last to leave, his expression saddened yet there was a glimmer of rage in his normally gentle eyes.

Severus stayed a few moments longer, his eyes pained and sad. He’d failed his godson. He’d never even seen it or he would have put a stop to it. Closing his eyes for a moment, steeling himself before walking for the door, “Godfather?” Snape paused, prepared to beg and plead for forgiveness, “I’m sorry I never told you...I was...I was just...I was so scared I...”

Snape knelt instantly, hand resting carefully on Draco’s head, “Never apologize to me for that...it is I who should have protected you...”

Draco nibbled on his lower lip for a moment. He wanted to do...something, to make his Godfather feel better but he didn’t know what. Albus squeeze Severus’ bicep and the man nodded, gave Draco a small, sad smile, before he was swiftly gone with a swish of his cloak. Draco closed his eyes tiredly, yelping softly as he was picked up, “Sorry, lad, but old legs fall asleep easily. It’s best if we move.”

For an old man Dumbledore was deceptively strong, he seemed to easily carry Draco behind his desk before sitting. He yawned, his headache abetting for the first time that day and he just wanted to sleep. He struggled to keep his eyes open but it just wasn’t happening.

“Albus, perhaps we should put him to bed.”

< If he’s tired then of course they should.> Draco giggled softly to himself, shifting against the shoulder and feeling safe for the first time in a long time, as he gave up on staying alert. Maybe just a small nap. He frowned to himself, feeling arms wrapping around him loosely but he was too tired to care as he unconsciously gripped the material under his cheek with his left hand.

“I think we’ll leave him be for the time being...he looks so content.”