Bleed Me An Ocean

A/N: Be warned, this is NOT gonna be pretty. Read at your own risk and please, please keep the following definition/word in mind:

Catalyst - Something that precipitates a process or event

As Harry was making his careful, yet heartbroken way back into Hogwarts, Draco was screaming bent over the desk in his father’s study. A room he had grown to despise more strongly than anything he had ever known before. The malachite tipped ends of a cat o’ nine tails bit into his skin as Lucius tore his back to crimson ribbons in his fury.

This isn’t me. This isn’t happening, Draco thought as pain seared him to the very core.

They had apparated near the end of the curving, elegant gravel drive of the Malfoy Manor. As soon as Draco’d seen where they were, he’d jerked away from Lucius, even more terrified than he had already been. As he had ran away from the torment that surely waited for him inside, he’d heard “Petrificus totalus” from somewhere behind him. His heart dropped in defeat even as his body had fallen with jarring force to the hard earth; teeth clacking together with a loud click that hurt his jaws.

He’d listened to the deliberately slow crunch of his father’s footsteps nearing him. Draco wanted to shudder, to cringe away, but he was paralyzed from the spell. Instead he could only weep silently and try to brace himself for what he was sure would come next. As the steps had come to stop near his head, he heard Lucius say, “Sometimes I wonder if you’re even my son. I have never seen such cowardice in a Malfoy before. You shame me, Draco, did you know that?”

Bending over, Lucius had grasped a handful of Draco’s silken hair and yanked him along, all the way down the drive and into the study. By the time he’d been released Draco’s head felt as though it was simply going to snap away from his neck. His hands were scraped raw by the rock-lined drive and his clothes were ripped in several places, the flesh beneath skinned bloody. Dumping him on the floor, Lucius had closed and locked the door before setting silencing charms to insure that he wasn’t heard. Waving his wand he had also released Draco from the spell’s hold on him.

As soon as he was free he’d anxiously scrambled to the nearest corner he could find and huddled there. Watching his father with terrified eyes that still oozed tears, he’d waited. It was the only thing he could do. This was one fight he could never hope to make it out of. Deep down, he knew that if push came to shove, Lucius would more than likely kill him without a second thought. And he wasn’t ready to die. Not yet.

Stepping forward Lucius had crouched before the panicked blonde. Smiling hatefully he’d merely observed as Draco had tried to make himself even smaller, attempting to disappear into the corner he had crammed into. Reaching forward with no love in his darker eyes, Lucius had first stroked Draco’s tangled and matted hair before reaching to slide his thumb across the boy’s pale cheek. Something about that emotionlessly cruel touch had bent something in Draco’s swimming head and before he knew what he was doing, he’d snapped his head to the side, biting his father’s hand. Yanking away with a curse, Lucius had glared at his son before wresting him to his feet. Before he could dive back to the floor into his corner, Lucius had smacked him across the mouth and sent him back down with the force of the blow.

“Is that the best you can manage, you little bastard?” Lucius had asked as his face hardened to fleshy stone. That was when he conjured the whip. Seeing the pure terror in the tall young man’s silver eyes had made him laugh with a sick glee as he reached down and forced him to his feet once more. “Go stand by my desk, boy.” Lucius ordered after magically stripping Draco of his shirt.

When Draco had made no move to comply, Lucius had grabbed him hard by the nape of his neck and shook him with bone rattling force before shoving him in the right direction. As always, a wave of pure hopelessness washed through Draco and he did as he’d been told. His shoulders shook with fear of the agony to come as he bent over the desk and firmly gripped its polished cherry surface. He’d screamed as the first snap of the whip caused the leather to cut into his tender flesh, and he hadn’t stopped since. An eternity seemed to pass before the beating ended. Lucius stood behind him, panting with the exertion of the whipping he’d just delivered. He’d stopped when he saw how Draco was beginning to sway, swooning with pain. The young man’s back ran with rivulets of blood from the places the sharp stone had gouged his shoulders and back. The places where the tails alone had landed rose in livid welts across his alabaster skin.

Standing away a few paces, Lucius took in the shivering lad before him, sadistically delighting in his handiwork. The boy had had it coming, and he had more planned. First though, he had questions that demanded answers. Answers only Draco could give him.

“Who were you with tonight?”

The words took a moment to sink into Draco’s addled brain, but as soon as they had he was overwhelmingly relieved. Father hadn’t seen that it was Harry. He steeled himself and waited, refusing to answer the Dark wizard.

“Well?” Lucius prompted, already growing impatient with his child’s slow response time.

“I don’t know what you mean, Father. I was with no one tonight,” Draco blatantly lied, gasping in pain. He focused his teary eyes on the wall before him and stood rigidly as he readied himself for what was sure to be an unpleasant repercussion.

“Don’t lie to me, you little fag. You know what happens when you lie to me,” Lucius warned.

“Indeed I do, but since I’m not lying, I have nothing to fear do I?” Draco said, swaying once again as pain ripped through him anew. This was the worst beating his father had ever given him, and it would only get worse. Yet, in that instant, he decided he’d rather die than place Harry in more jeopardy than he already faced from the followers of the Dark Lord.

Lucius tightened his grip angrily on the cat o’ nine tails, then paused. Throwing it to the floor to lie forgotten at least for the time being, he went to the table that held the collection of liquor. It was the same table that Draco had first laid eyes on whiskey and found some semblance of sanity in its burning love. Lucius calmly pulled the stopper from a decanter of dry gin and poured himself a small amount. Taking a little sip, he looked back at Draco who stared resolutely at the wall. Briefly contemplating his next move in the interrogation, he sneered before walking to Draco and dumping the alcohol onto his bloody back.

Shrieking as the liquor seared his mauled flesh, Draco lost his already weak grip on the desk and fell to the floor in agony. “Father, please stop,” he begged. “Please. It hurts.”

That only drew another mirthless laugh from Lucius as he stood glaring down at his son. “From the looks of things, you seem to like pain quite a bit, boy.”

The blonde had always been careful to cover himself with a glamour when anywhere near his father. That night, though, he’d obviously not had the opportunity to do so and Lucius had seen the scars and still-fresh cuts on Draco’s body. He shamefully cowered on the floor where he lay, trying to crawl away from his hateful father. A foot on his hand stopped him from that, the toe of a heavy boot grinding his fingers into the lush carpeting. He cried out yet again as he felt something small and delicate give under the pressure, knowing that one of his fingers was broken.

He sat up then, cradling his damaged hand to his body, only to feel the wetness of more blood against his naked chest. Lucius had stomped the very hand he’d used to break the whiskey glass upside The Creep’s head with. The memories of that night’s earlier triumphs only served to make him feel even more weakly ineffective in his father’s grasp.

“You’re a mess, a fucking mess,” Lucius spat at Draco as he once more forced him to stand. “Are you ready to tell me the boy’s name yet? Or how about telling me why my only heir grew up to suck cock instead of looking for a woman to carry on this family’s name?”

Still unwilling to answer about who he’d been with, Draco tried with all his might to answer the latter question. He could think of nothing that would successfully appease his father, so he simply chose the truth. Knowing it would gain him no reprieve, he at least hoped it would serve to distract the man from his main question. “I didn’t choose to be gay, Father. I just am. I have known it for years now. I am sorry I shame you so, but there’s nothing to be done. I am who I am.”

“There is always something to be done,” Lucius said coldly. “Always. You don’t think, Draco, and you never have. I am amazed you were ever sorted into Slytherin House.”

“I do think, sir, and I was a good Slytherin. Just like you wanted. Again, I am sorry to have hurt you so.”

“Hurt me? Oh, no, son. The only person you have hurt here is yourself. And what do you mean you were a good Slytherin?”

Draco’s dry throat worked as he realized what he’d just let slip. “Nothing, sir, nothing at all. It was just a case of bad phrasing.”

As he’d expected, Lucius knew he was lying. “What have I told you about making things up?”

Draco sagged in defeat yet again, there was no way he was going to get out of this. Simply nothing he could say would deter his father from doing what he, most likely, already had planned. He intended to beat the holy hell out of him and that was final. This was merely an interlude and Draco was not so stupid as to think otherwise. Cat and mouse games were one of Lucius’s favorites to play with his son. With a weight of sorrow inside of him, Draco just softly said, “I am longer an active member of that house.”

The silence that followed was filled with barbed wire. Draco could feel it hooking through him, sewing his fate inexorably closed. The blank look in his father\'s eyes told him all he needed to know. He\'d seen that look all his life. It was a look that spoke of a coming storm, a tempest of fury that could only be spent on his son\'s body. No words were spoken as Draco lowered his eyes and bowed his head. He looked as though he were praying, but really, he was thinking of Harry and how much he loved him. Picturing Harry in his mind, Draco listened as his father slowly exhaled with a sound like a low, rumbling growl in his chest. Draco tensed, preparing for what was about to come. He did not have to wait for long when the first stroke of Lucius\'s fist against his cheek came. The blows did not stop for a very, very long time once they\'d started.

=*|*=

Harry was now back in he and Draco\'s room. He paced the length of their quarters, anxiety ridden and utterly lost. He pulled from a bottle of whiskey over and over again. Soon his pacing steps had become staggers as he muttered to himself. Stopping once, he\'d laughed bitterly, realizing how much like his lover he sounded at that moment. Tears still leaked from his swollen, bloodshot eyes occasionally, but they were few now. He did not think he could possibly weep anymore that night. He felt he\'d cried all the tears he had in him.

Making it through the tunnel he had contemplated his options on what to do. Truth was, he felt he had none. Regardless of what he said to anyone, the fact that he and Draco had sneaked out of school and went to Hogsmeade was grounds for expulsion. After all the trouble he\'d found himself in that semester, he couldn\'t imagine that there\'d be no repercussions for his actions. Not only had he put Draco in danger by taking him out, he\'d also put himself at great risk. So many wanted him dead or in the clutches of Voldemort that given the opportunity, they would take it. Then there was also the fight in the bar. Harry figured Hogwarts would further frown on that action. It didn\'t seem the school would be pleased to know two of its most prominent students were out getting wasted and brawling in bars.

He wanted to talk to someone. To find someone to help him. Yet, every person he thought of would only run to Dumbledore. Snape or Hermione was his best chance of circumventing that little part, but overall, Harry wasn\'t entirely convinced those two wouldn\'t do the same. No other ideas had come to him besides waiting. Harry figured Lucius wouldn\'t leave Draco away from school for too long. It was a risk of drawing too much attention to himself in the long run. Though, how he planned to get Draco back into school was beyond Harry\'s realm of thinking at the moment. The thing was, although he was trying to think, he was simply far too upset and drunk to accomplish much in the way of that.

Pulling his fingers roughly through his hair he groaned in frustration. This was a nightmare come to life in a sense. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Lucius would hurt Draco badly and it killed him to imagine it. Yet, imagining it was all he could seem to do. Finally, he sat down with a thump on the rickety chair that stood against the wall. They rarely used it because it wobbled so, but he could really have cared less had it chosen that moment to collapse. Harry dropped his head and hunched over until it was dangling between his knees as his stomach heaved once again. His nerves were shot, not to mention he was the drunkest he\'d ever been and he grimaced as the hot liquid streamed from his mouth to splatter on the floor. He strangled on the taste left in his mouth and sat back wearily. His mind and body were both wrung out, yet he couldn\'t sleep so he only shrugged, frowning as he lifted the bottle to begin drinking again.

Harry shifted on the questionably stable chair as memories of seeing Draco perched gingerly on it, reading a book or listening to music, washed over him. He felt like he was choking on his heart in that instant and tears welled anew in his eyes, yet he blinked them back furiously. Such a simple image, but the way the afternoon sunlight had slanted through the high window to cast Draco\'s face half in shadow, half in light, had always made Harry smile at the beauty before him.

The lump of emotion in his throat seemed to swell as his palms began to sweat. His chest rose while he tried to gulp in a breath of air, yet the feeling as though he was getting none frightened him as the image stayed fixed in his mind. Then came the look of those haunted grey eyes locking with his that evening just before Lucius took him. Harry moaned out a low sound of pain and shame for not having guarded Draco. He only ever wanted to protect him, but he hadn\'t. The guilt was overwhelming. Every fiber of muscle in his body seemed to be twitching and jerking by then, pulling in opposite directions all at once, clenching then releasing in spasmodic movements. With a thin, anguished wail, Harry dropped his head forward once more and let the pain engulf him.

He finally got himself under some sort of control and just stared at the wall. Dreizehn came to lay his broad, sturdy head across Harry\'s foot and dozed quietly, opening his golden eyes occasionally to gaze at the young man with an almost human concern. Harry just waited, a lone sentry on guard, praying to Kali between every burning sip of whiskey that the door would open and Draco would walk through it. The night ticked endlessly away, dawn seeming like nothing more than a myth as the white light of stars bathed Harry\'s forlorn shape in an unfeeling silver glow.

=*|*=

\"Tell me who you were with, boy!\"

The words his father screamed at him echoed in his head as Draco lay sprawled on the study floor, but he hadn\'t really heard them. He was in too much pain. He shivered from the ache that thrummed throughout his long frame. Close to passing out and well past the point of true sentience, he tried to bury his face in the soft nap of the carpet. He just wanted to sleep, that was all. Why wouldn\'t the terrible racket leave him be?

Lucius\'s voice seemed to be coming to him from far away, like the roar of waves crashing on a distant beach. His thoughts were disorganized. Fragments of faces and sounds, things he knew but cared nothing for at the moment. As Lucius yelled at him even louder, Draco feebly raised his head only to once again nestle his bleeding face into the floor. Just wanting to dream the ache away, he tiredly assured himself: The sound of the ocean is dead, it\'s just the echo of the blood in your head.

A sharp kick to his already bruised thigh made him grunt in pain again and he felt himself rising from his comfortable stupor. He had been so close to making it stop, or at least making it where he no longer felt it. The noise he could\'ve dreamt away, but more attacks on his body he couldn\'t. Draco summoned what strength he had left, trying to yank himself away from the foot that had drawn back again, this time landing with a bit more control against his ribs. Lucius was usually very careful not to break any bones. Although the blonde\'s finger hadn\'t been told that. It jutted out from his hand at a strange angle as he dug his fingers into the carpet to help pull himself away.

Crying out weakly as Lucius placed the same foot between his shoulders, Draco stopped struggling. He just didn\'t have it in him anymore. The only thing that was still driving him was his desire to be back in Harry\'s arms and away from the madman who was his father. Lucius spoke then, his voice lethal. \"Answer me, you worthless fucking nothing.\"

Unable to help himself, Draco cringed on the inside, but still refused to answer. Those words though, those three little words chased him everywhere he went. They were in every line he stroked into his skin with utter indifference to what he was doing, only concerned with trying to make the pain real. More tangible. The words he\'d heard from his father\'s mouth since he was a child. It seemed as though all of his scars tingled at hearing them come from their true creator\'s mouth again. In that instant, Draco went away. Not entirely, but another part of him seemed to rise from the ashes of his abused mind. The part that hated Lucius Malfoy even more than he feared him and the part that could still believe in the love he saw in a pair of green eyes.

When the pressure was removed from his back, Draco forced himself into a half sitting, half propping position. Looking at the floor, he snorted softly with contempt, watching as blood sprayed in a fine mist from his nose. With every ounce of will he possessed, he brought his head up to look into his father\'s eyes. With the trademark Malfoy smirk twitching on his bloody lips, Draco said, \"Sorry, Father, I don\'t kiss and tell.\"

It was all he could do to hold Lucius\'s gaze, but he did it. There was flicker of shock in the charcoal grey eyes before they were once more as cold and serpentine as a cobra\'s. The delicate nostrils of his patrician nose flared, the only sign of the anger he felt at his son\'s defiance. Draco watched his father with the smirk still in place. He felt as though he were going to come apart and start screaming anytime, but he would not back down. Those sick words were branded on his very spirit. Words he took as truth. A truth that was destroying him a little bit every day. He still knew how to wear the dreadful mask of calculating iciness and he slid it on as the battle of wills grew.

Finally, Lucius smiled. \"How darling, Draco. Trying to protect your little friend. I suppose cocksuckers need to stand for one another, am I right?\" He laughed at his own clever phrasing before turning and walking away from Draco to sit behind the huge desk.

\"I am sick to death of your insolence with me this evening, boy. Come here.\"

\"No.\" Resolute. Determined. Frightened. Eyes averted to the floor.

Lucius heard the faint tremor of fear and knew that, once more, he had won. Draco had always been so weak. \"Come here, now, Draco.\"

A twitch of a shoulder, but nothing more. \"I\'d rather not.\"

Lucius was growing impatient with Draco\'s indignation and he was exhausted. He hadn\'t stopped all day. A meeting with the Dark Lord that evening had only led to his discovery of Draco in Hogsmeade. As soon as this was over and done with though, he knew that he would sleep soundly, dreaming of the hopefully amusing end result of all his scheming throughout his time spent with Draco that evening. Thinking for a moment, Lucius pulled his wand out and muttered a spell.

Draco flailed and screamed as a million sharp clawed, pinching fingers seemed to grab him, forcibly hauling him behind his father\'s desk. He dug his heels in with all his might, but to no avail. \"No, no. Please no.\"

Lucius shuddered pleasantly at the sound of those whimpering pleas. As his son was roughly deposited by his feet, Lucius turned his head slightly to look down to the quaking body on the floor. \"Since you like sucking cock so much, my dear child,\" he spoke with malice as he fully turned the chair around. \"Then choke on this.\"

Draco\'s head jerked up in surpise. What did Father just say?, he thought, not trusting his ears. Then he saw. He saw the open fly of Lucius\'s fine woolen slacks. He saw what he held in his hand, erect and throbbing.

Inclining his head to the side, Draco gave him a hurt look that morphed into something ugly as Lucius wrapped his fingers tightly into those fair strands to force his head down. He began to laugh riotously, forcing himself to stare at his crotch, even though it made him want to hurl. \"Choke on what?\" he asked coldly as he slipped further and further away from himself. \"Harry\'s cock is bigger than that and I can swallow it like it\'s nothing.\"

Draco found himself yanked forward harshly even as he realized what he had said. Betrayal. He had just betrayed Harry to his father. Oh no, Merlin, please take it back. Don\'t let him have heard me. I . . . oh gods . . . I\'m sorry, I\'m sorry.

\"What\'s that?\" Lucius said, his voice tight with fury.

He had to try and fix it. Had to try and make what he said obsolete. Doing all he could think of, hoping Lucius would forget what he\'d said, he spit in Lucius\'s face. Lucius recoiled at first, then shook his head slightly as he realized what Draco was trying to do. With a harsh laugh that could\'ve turned fire to ice, he slapped the blonde once before leaning forward. Whispering almost companionably he said, \"I heard you well enough, Draco. But you won\'t have your way. I won\'t beat you anymore and I certainly have no interest in killing you. We\'re going to proceed as I intended, even if I have to pry your jaws open. Just know this: I hope that every time you kiss your darling Harry, he can taste me on your tongue. Won\'t that be nice?\"

\"No-o-o,\" Draco choked out as tears streamed down his cheeks, burning the cuts and scrapes like boiling water.

\"Ye-e-s,\" Lucius said mockingly as he forced Draco\'s head down. He bit his lip and hissed as he felt warm tears and a warmer mouth caress his sensitive skin.

This is my fault. I deserve this. This is my fault. I deserve this. . ., Draco thought as he began to bob his head up and down.

Lucius grabbed his head as it slid about halfway up his now glistening shaft. Clenching his fingers sharply into the sides of Draco\'s jaws, he began to pump his hips back and forth. There was no gentleness in his touch and the closer he came to finishing his horrible deed, the rougher he became. He pounded down his son\'s throat with no mercy or care for his well being. Draco wept pitifully as he felt himself breaking to his father\'s will.

He drifted away to a place where he was warm and safe. He lay with Harry in a warm bed in a nondescript room, much like the one they already shared. Harry turned to smile at him, his brilliant eyes alight with care; making a silent promise to never hurt him. He smiled back at Harry and snuggled into his arms as he pulled him close into a tight embrace. Draco nestled happily into Harry\'s smooth arms, feeling peaceful and loved. Then Harry\'s light-bathed face was gone and he was once more in the dim study. He was gagging and choking on molten, sticky seed. White strings oozed from the sides of his mouth, making it look as though his torn lips were flecked with foam. He couldn\'t stop shaking. As he heard his own father groaning in release above him, the light went out of Draco\'s eyes.

Coming to his senses, Lucius glared down at his son who gazed into nothingness. Shoving him away with an angry snarl, Lucius spat at him. \"You\'re a disgusting, filthy creature, Draco. You make me sick. Look what you did to me you nasty child.\"

Draco hit the floor with a thud as Lucius railed at him. He just stared at the ceiling, taking it in. Muttering to himself. He repeated one word over and over in a desperation clogged whisper: \"Unclean.\"

He could feel it, taste it; it coated his tongue and dripped from his mouth like viscous saliva. Draco screamed then, a high-pitched keening wail, before throwing himself onto his side, retching. He scrubbed at his face with both hands, unmindful of the jarring pain from his broken finger. He trembled furiously, angry not with Lucius, but with himself. For what he\'d possibly done to Harry, for what he\'d allowed to be done to him at his father\'s hand. He was weak, he was nothing but a coward and a whore. No good, no good at all. And he screamed again as he drifted into madness. That flavor in his mouth, like quinine and battery acid dripped down his throat as he scrubbed, clawed, tore at his handsome face. He gagged again, vomiting up a thin gruel of bile and leftover whiskey.

Lucius watched his son\'s hysterical display without interest or a speck of guilt. He was ready to return Draco to Hogsmeade. A glance out of the window showed the sulfurous yellow light of early dawn peeking through the crack in the velvet drapes. Without saying a word, he began to cast strong glamours on the boy to hide the marks, also conjuring him a new shirt that draped itself around Draco\'s slender shoulders. A shirt that was far more suited to a Malfoy. A black silk button up shirt that made Draco\'s white skin look even whiter by contrast.

Finally, with a falsely beleaguered sigh, he said, \"Draco, I am sorry to say that I have grown bored with your melodrama. It\'s quite entertaining, but really a bit much for me. I am very tired of your carryings on, so please, do shut up with your whining.\"

When Draco didn\'t comply immediately, Lucius rose from his seat and grabbed Draco. Turning his head to face him, Lucius spoke menacingly. \"Do as I say, boy, or I\'ll make it even worse. Really give you something to cry about.\" He had no intention of doing any such thing, he just wanted the little fool to stop his babbling.

Draco forced himself to comply out of sheer terror. His sobs became broken snuffling, sniffling sounds as he tried to staunch the flow of tears. But he couldn\'t quit rubbing his hand across his mouth. He didn\'t know if he would ever be able to stop. He bolted his eyes shut when he felt the grip tighten, unsure if he had displeased his father again. Then, much to his pained relief, he heard a crack that told him they had apparated.

=*|*=

He opened his eyes, squinting them tightly closed once more at the onslaught of bright morning light that stung them. They were standing behind a row of buildings on the outskirts of the village. His father released him as soon as they arrived, wiping his hand on his pants with a grimace. The display was intentional, for Draco\'s benefit.

\"Well, Draco, enjoy your walk back to school. I am sure they\'ll be glad to see you arrive from your little party. I expect they may even remove you from the building, inviting you to never return. Wouldn\'t you say so?\" Lucius asked with a nasty smile.

Something clicked in Draco\'s mixed up head, but he didn\'t betray what he remembered. The cloak was still safe in his pocket. He could just make out its reassuring pressure against his throbbing leg. Slight, it was, but glorious. He just glanced away from his father with a look of real shame. He felt filthy, from the inside out and did not ever want to look into those calculatingly cold eyes again. He couldn\'t stop his hand as it crept back to his already chafed lips to begin rubbing them again.

After realizing he would get no reaction from the blonde, Lucius turned away from him, intent on leaving at once to return to the Manor and sleep. A soft, sad inquiry made him pause, however. \"Father, why did you do . . . that . . . to me?\" Draco asked, his eyes dazed, but otherwise distant and lifeless.

Stepping forward, Lucius placed a hand on the boy\'s trembling shoulder, delighting when he felt him flinch as he spoke calmy; evenly. \"I didn\'t do anything to you, Draco. You brought it upon yourself.\" Deciding it best that he really drive the point home, Lucius lowered his voice to a silken purr as he said, \"This is all your fault.\" A gentle caress to Draco\'s cheek made him yelp hoarsely and pull away.

With a final chuckle that hung in the still air like a dagger waiting to descend, Lucius apparated away from Hogsmeade to leave his son alone in the light of what promised to be a gorgeous day. Draco only looked around him dully to make sure the man was really gone. Satisfied, he slid his hand into his pocket and retrieved the cloak. Unshrinking it, he settled it over him before starting the long walk back to Hogwarts. Back to Harry.

Pain seared through him, almost making him fall more than once, but he refused. His eyes were focused only on one thing, something he couldn\'t see yet, but he knew where it was. It was where he wanted to be, the only place he would ever want to be again. All the while, he scrubbed at his face as he wept. With jerky movements reminiscent of a marionette whose strings had become hopelessly tangled, he reached the gates to the school and walked through them, that much closer to safety.

=*|*=

The morning found Harry still wide awake and resolved to finding help for Draco. Snape. He would go to Snape. He hoped the man would help him and somehow, he truly thought he would. Lurching up from his post in the chair, he made his way for the door to the room. He was almost there when it was flung open forcefully.

Harry jumped backward, almost losing his balance. Then he sobbed with relief as Draco materialized before him, seemingly unscathed. With a sob of joy, he rushed toward the blonde who tottered on his feet. As his pained gaze met Harry\'s, he smiled wearily as he finally felt relief and comfort envelop him.

\"Harry,\" he spoke weakly before he collapsed in front of his lover.

\"Draco!\" Harry yelled, rushing forward to catch the blonde.

He grabbed him just in time. The young man was unconscious though and breathing with harsh, shallow gasps. Tremors wracked his body and it was then Harry realized that what he was seeing wasn\'t real. He scrabbled for his wand and removed the glamours only to cry out at what he saw before him.

\"Help me! Somebody help me!\" Harry screamed, knowing that no one could hear him.

Unwilling to leave Draco, but knowing he must, he rushed to the bed with the limp blonde in his arms and gently laid him down. With a barely conscious thought he barked at Dreizehn, who took in all that was going on with an anxious; alert set to his body, to watch over Draco. Then he bolted from the room at a full on run going to the first person that came to mind.

A/N: I know this was not the most pleasant of chapters, believe me, I KNOW. I was so sick after writing it that it took me three days to work up the nerve to even proof it. But ya know, I\'m thinking of that old saying that goes something like \"Every dog has his day.\" *evil grin* Retribution is a lovely thing, nein? Please review, just try and refrain from yelling at me. I\'ll have the other completed chapters up soon. But this is it for right now.