Bleed Me An Ocean

It had been three weeks since Draco had come back and his improvement was slow, to say the least. Virtually nonexistent, actually, if Harry were to be honest with himself. But honesty was not something he valued too highly at the moment. The warm winds had come again, signalling the arrival of spring, yet it held no joy for either of the boys, or Hermione who was fading as well in her own way.

The screams brought on by Draco's never-ending nightmares, or the sudden startled shriek he would loose when wide awake were wearing on Harry. His own dreams continued to plague him and more often than not he got no more than an hour's sleep at night. When he wasn't rudely yanked out of sleep by his own demon dreams, Draco's yanked him awake all the same. Most often it was a mixture of both of their dreams. And Harry could not allow himself to even try and fall asleep again if Draco is what woke him. He would hold him all night, stroking his now long hair, whispering nonsensical things meant to comfort him.

Harry often spent endless hours biting the insides of his cheeks until he tasted coppery blood in order to stop himself from echoing Draco's own cries. Lack of sleep and too much alcohol led him to believe he was surely, surely sprialing into madness himself. It certainly felt that way. He felt fragmented and on edge, yet drifting and boneless as well.

There was a secret part of him that genuinely wanted to give over to that darkling feeling that chuckled grimly from the recesses of his sleep deprived mind. He found himself willing it to happen; offering himself to it freely - inviting it to devour him in the way it seemed to be consuming Draco who only stared and drank, pausing long enough to swallow the potions Snape dutifully supplied him with, calming draughts now instead of pain killers. It wasn't enough, however, and try as he might Harry seemed incapable of truly losing his mind the way he wanted to. Oh, but he thought it would be sweet to not have to fight anymore, to just fall away into forever; adrift and uncaring with no voice other than Draco's now seldom used one to guide him. It would have been beautiful to just give up the war, to desert himself the way so many had already deserted him. With a low hum, he grimaced at his thoughts. Was that truly what he wanted? Yes. It was. Yet still, some niggling little part of sanity kept him from the precipice of his descent and in his own right, Harry supposed he was thankful. But it burned inside of him.

Now it was late afternoon on a Saturday and Harry was idly tracing the scars that now littered Draco's shoulders. All of Snape's fading and healing hadn't completely erradicated the hateful things. His roughened fingers stroked the old wounds while Draco whimpered softly from where his face was buried in a pillow. Harry smiled, the whimper wasn't a frightened one, it was one of pleasure. It egged Harry on and he stroked the long, tense muscles of Draco's creamy white back, coaxing the knots out of the flesh. Sitting up, Draco scooted close to Harry, burying his face in Harry's neck and his own shaggy, too-long hair. His breath came in gentle puffs that ruffled the strands that clung there, making Harry's grin all the broader. Finally a response from Draco. It was so shocking to have, but it was a glorious thing.

His pained eyes turned up to meet Harry's kind ones and he offered a wisp of a smile before falling back into the crook of Harry's neck. Stroking him still, Harry gathered him closer to him and pressed a kiss against his temple. Draco shuddered, relaxing further into the touch before suddenly jerking himself away with a small yelp. He was up and off the bed like a shot, standing in a corner, looking for all the world like he wanted to climb back into the fireplace. Harry had found him there several more times since the incident with Lucius, holding himself tightly and singing in a low, quavering voice that spilled like razored shards into the air to cut Harry to pieces each time he heard that lovely voice shake with so much pain and fear. Draco's mouth stayed chafed, raw and ugly most of the time. Snape had taught Harry a healing charm and - albeit begrudgingly - Hermione as well. It was often that Harry found himself using it three, sometimes four times a day because of Draco's brutality against himself.

Rising himself, Harry hurriedly walked to Draco. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He reached a hand out to cup the side of Draco's face, slowly brushing his thumb across the smooth flesh of Draco's cheek.

"No." was the only response Harry got. Then, "I was frightened, that's all. Afraid that you'd . . . that you'd . . ." Draco broke off, refusing to meet Harry's gaze. He looked at the floor instead as he nervously twisted his fingers together, the unspoken part of his last statement running through his head. Afraid that you'd taste Father.

Of course Harry did not know this. He had thought on it, knew on some level that it was true - Lucius had used his son's body in a way that was beyond wrong, beyond cruel and most of all, beyond natural. Yet, he pushed it aside each time, unwilling to accept that Draco had been violated in such a despicable fashion. Regardless, he wanted Lucius to die a painful death, he ached with the sheer strength of that want. Seeing Draco as he was now, seemingly so small, frightened and more than just somewhat damaged made him want it all that much more. The bastard would pay with his blood, Harry had vowed to himself over and over again, almost pleading with the fates to make the war come sooner so he could kill Lucius Malfoy properly instead of murdering him time and time again in his daydreams. A part of him wondered distractedly if he could wait for the war, or if he would go to Lucius himself. He almost laughed at the absurdly vicious thought.

Harry pulled himself from those fantasies and stepped even closer to Draco. "Hush now, don't be afraid of me, Draco, please don't. I love you."

Startled eyes met his and a wan smile flickered briefly before it was washed away by the ever sorrowful look on his face. "I know you do, I can feel it. I just can't understand it. But knowing it's there comforts me. It really does."

"Then for that I am glad," Harry said lowering his head, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned even closer to Draco to brush his lips against the blonde's.

A scream tore from Draco's throat as he pulled away from Harry's kiss so violently his head rapped loudly against the wall. Harry was stunned as he stared at Draco. Confusion and hurt flitted across his face as he took in the panting, quivering young man whose hand scrubbed his lips only to begin clawing at them until, before Harry could even react, they ran with blood that slowly, ever so slowly, started to drip from his chin.

As though moving through mud Harry came back to himself and was on Draco in a flash, pulling his hand away with a cry. "Draco! No, stop this. Baby, what's wrong? Oh gods, tell me what it is!"

"You can't, Harry, you just can't. It's what he wanted he said so. I don't want you to taste what I taste on my tongue. It's HIM. He's inside of me, all over me. Never again can you kiss me because I am tainted, ugly and wrong. Bad. Bad. Bad."

"You're none of those things, Draco. What don't you want me to taste?" Harry asked, already squirming with dread that he knew what Draco meant and suddenly things were glaringly bright. Too bright. All of it finally made sense, yet Draco would not say the words. Maybe he couldn't. But Kali, it ripped at Harry to know, yet NOT really know. He wanted to know the story, the full tale, he needed it.

"Can't tell you. It's too ugly to see it. I saw it. Touched . . . touched my cold skin. I am a corpse. You love a dead man," Draco whispered, then laughed shrilly. A laugh that was the wrong kind of laugh. It was crazy, tortured and damned. Harry wanted to slap him just to get some sort of reaction other than that. But even as he thought that, Draco crumpled to the floor, the maniacal laughter replaced by bitter, heaving sobs as he clawed the floor. "Please make me go away. I don't want to be here anymore."

"You aren't dead, and you will never be, love. Not if I can help it. And I won't let you go, never, ever let you go. I love you too much." Harry murmured as he stooped beside the weeping man, threading his fingers through his hair that covered his tear streaked face. Harry tilted his chin up to look into those awfully empty silver eyes and smiled as he repeated, "I love you too much."

"Oh goddamnit, Harry, what's happening to me?" Draco moaned out, the first truly lucid thing he'd said in ages, catching Harry off guard. Too off guard for Harry to be able to sugarcoat anything. Instead he bluntly told him as he sat on the floor with a bone jarring thump. He just felt so heavy.

"Lucius is destroying you. I don't know what he did, but whatever it is, it's tearing you apart from the inside out."

"I know, I know, knownoknownoknowno," Draco said weakly, falling back into his usual state. "Make the pain go away," He hissed as he sprawled completely onto the floor, dragging himself to lay his head in Harry's lap.

"I will, I swear to Kali I will. I'll make it better, Draco, don't worry," Harry said, his own voice sounding foreign in his ears. It shook and trembled as he bit the inside of his cheek once more. "You'll be alright again, we'll be alright again. Forever and ever."

He wasn't even aware that he'd started rocking back and forth as silent tears slipped from beneath his tightly closed eyelids to scorch their truth down his cheeks, scouring his promise into something real. Something gnawing; grinning as it destroyed Harry's doubts and hardened his resolve. Nothing had ever hurt so good. He would make it better, he would know Draco's surprisingly sweet and insistent kisses again. There would be no more pain, no more fear, and most of all, there would be a light in Draco's dull eyes again. He just had to figure out how to make it happen, because the kind of hurt he'd felt lately wasn't good, it wasn't relieving. It was crushing and unrelenting, ripping his heart from his chest time and time again to leave it on the dusty floor, bleeding as it pulsed, dying like a fish out of water before his very eyes only to come to stop in its hopping, warped motions to lay beside the scattered pieces of Draco's own soul.

As Harry sat and watched Draco shift into a more comfortable position, he thought of how hard his life must've really been. He was just a child, already well aware that the people who were supposed to love and care for him the most essentially despised him. It was eerily similar to Harry's life. Although, Uncle Vernon had not raised a hand to him until his Hogwarts letters started coming in. Not only that but they were still just singular, painful blows to his face or a sharp cuff to the back of his head. Never, never had Uncle Vernon actually beat him like Lucius had Draco.

Nor had the slaps gone on for too long, when, over the summer after fourth year, Harry had been walking through the living room when Dudley "accidentally" tripped him. Harry'd fallen to the floor so hard his teeth had nearly pierced his lip. The jarring crash had frightened him so bad that some of his magic had loosed itself and knocked Dudders flat on his back. That had been the last real display of his inner magic until recently, but he was lucky enough (as he always seemed to be) that it was the end to Uncle Vernon hitting him. In retrospect, Harry was glad of this indeed because he knew that they would have evolved in severity and frequency. He wondered, too, if that was how it had been for Draco. Knowing Lucius Malfoy, he doubted it. The man didn't believe in doing things half-assed. All or nothing to ensure that Draco learned his lesson and knew his place. Which, apparently, was at his father's feet, bleeding and crying.

This brought his thoughts back full circle: Draco had been a child, not a punching bag. Just a little boy. But Lucius had destroyed his innocence and left behind the ruins of what perhaps could have been a healthy, functional human being. Instead, Draco was mentally ill, an alcoholic and covered in scars. He had nothing to cling to but Harry, not even happy memories. Lucius Malfoy had obliterated his son and shattered him in places. Harry's mouth turned down in an angry little frown as he thought, The beatings have been permanent.

A light knock at the door startled Harry from his daze. He realized he'd been sitting on the cold floor - for hours likely - rocking Draco who now slept with his head still cradled in Harry's lap. Rousing himself, he gently moved Draco aside and stood to answer the door, wobbling a bit as the feeling suddenly rushed back to his legs.

He opened the door to find Hermione smiling brightly at him with a tray of sandwiches and small pitcher of pumpkin juice. "Hey, I was bored and managed to read through dinner, so I thought I'd come see you two for a bit." Then lowering her voice she asked, "How is he today?"

Stepping aside and smiling at her in return, Harry gestured to the heap of blonde Slytherin on the floor. "He's sleeping on the floor, how do you think he is?"

"Did he . . . did he pass out there or something?" Hermione questioned, hoping against hope Harry wouldn't have one of his snit fits with her about mentioning their boozing. She'd tried to have that talk with him the week before, finally, and the tantrum he'd had about it had nearly left her in tears. Apparently, discussing his alcoholism was not an easy task, yet she had decided to give it another try sometime in the near future. Today though, she just wanted to have a nice little meal with her friend - friends - and keep things light.

Rolling his eyes, Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "No, Hermione, he didn't pass out there. Actually, I'm glad you came by. I wanted to talk to you about something . . . about how he ended up there."

"Sure," she said, plopping down into the armchair as she quickly transfigured a sock of all things into a glass to pour her juice in.

"Uh . . . Herm . . . that was a dirty sock," Harry said.

"Yes, well, it makes a perfectly fine, clean glass," she told him, trying to suppress a smile at his doubtful expression while conjuring it to her. She settled down after a short moment and with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of juice in the other she asked him, "What happened, Harry?"

Harry, who was currently relocating the still-sleeping Draco to the bed, waited until he had him down before turning to Hermione and telling her all that had transpired.

She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully before saying, "He still won't talk about it though, will he?"

"No," was Harry's short reply. "I want to know, and he needs to get it out but I can not make him talk about it. He shuts down on me each time and this afternoon was the worst ever. I'm losing him despite my best efforts."

Hermione cleared her throat, thinking. She knew Harry was right, Draco's decline was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes. Although he was going to class, he had to be well dosed with a calming potion beforehand. The first day they attempted to take him back to class so they didn't draw too much suspicion with his extended absences had been disastrous. Hermione had met Draco and Harry outside the painting of the Fat Lady to walk with them to class. Neville had joined them as they made their way down the stairs, all of them talking in low voices, all except Draco who was deathly quiet. As they had reached the bottom of the stairs, the blonde had frozen before turning abruptly on his heel and bolting back up the stairs, leaving the three remaining people to gawk after him until Harry had broke the silence and ran after the boy. That had been the first time they'd found him hiding in the fireplace.

After that they had spoken with Snape and he'd given them the potions to keep Draco calm long enough to attend classes. He did well enough, too, managing to take notes to some degree but only looking blankly at his professors who had just begun pointedly ignoring him after about a week. When Harry, out of frustration, had asked Hermione what the hell was wrong with them by just disregarding the blonde in such a manner, she'd gently told him that although they likely noticed how despondent he'd become over the school year, most of them probably could've cared less. At his stunned expression, she had frowned and continued on, pointing out that it was Draco Malfoy, formerly one of the most disruptively obnoxious students Hogwarts had ever seen and they were probably glad that he'd quieted down and left them in peace, regardless of how screwy he seemed.

Harry now watched her expectantly, waiting for some kind of response. If anyone could think of a way to make Draco talk, it was Hermione. She was the most clever person he had ever known and right then, he needed her cleverness more than anything in the world. She had, indeed, lit upon an idea. However, it was risky and borderline mad to even think such a thing, but the way things stood right then other options were hard to come by. So, with a deep breath and a quick sip of her juice, she met Harry's gaze and whispered one word.

"Veritaserum."

Harry gave her a look that suggested she had grown an extra head. "Are you mad, Hermione? You know as well as I do that Veritaserum is tightly controlled by the Ministry. Not to mention, it's not exactly a potion you can just whip up on a Saturday afternoon with common ingredients."

"Yes, Harry, I do know that. The only other options are Legilimency or a pensieve. Neither of which I think Draco would allow. Legilimency would likely be useless anyway since he's so scrambled in his head here lately anyway. He's blocking the memories out to some degree which may as well just make him a top notch Occlumens. Veritaserum is about our only option and in case you've forgotten, Snape has access to it," Hermione said, pressing her lips into a firm line over Harry's insinuation that she had went spare. "And I am perfectly sane, just so you know."

Giving her another look, Harry grinned a little. "I am starting to have my doubts. How do you suggest we get the Veritaserum from Snape then? We need to come up with a plan if we're going to do this."

Hermione smiled at him and said, "We ask him for it."

Harry could only open and close his mouth as he tried to come up with something intelligible to say. He came up empty handed, opting to stare at Hermione with wide eyes as he shook his head.

"Well, it's the best I can think of. He's been more than helpful thus far, not to mention, he kept his word and didn't go to Dumbledore or anyone else about all of this. I think it's a safe bet, as much as I hate saying this. I know he knows something else happened to Draco other than his father beating him. I saw it that morning. I think he may've even tried to use Legilimency on him, though the way we were all standing, I can't swear to it. In any case, Snape knows something's really wrong about all of this and I think he'll help for Draco's sake."

"He's going to have kittens, Hermione!" Harry said, tossing his hands in the air.

"No, he's not. Though I am quite sure we'll be on the receiving end of more than a few snide remarks. But that's a risk we have to take. He'll do it, Harry, I just know he will. He has to," Hermione finished, her frown deepening as she glanced over at Draco who still slept on, oblivious to all around him at least for the time being. "And look, he's been helping you out with Filch, too. Didn't you tell me you saw him casting lightening charms on some of your "assigned" piles of debris? And wasn't it Snape who helped me get Draco back here when he came down to . . . observe . . . what you were doing? Gods, that was a nightmare."

"Yes, Hermione, it was a nightmare. I don't know what in the hell possessed him to wander down there last Thursday. I'm just glad you and Professor Snape were there to, um, redirect him. After he stumbled and screamed "Goddamn motherfucker!" I thought we were done for," Harry said with a rueful smile. "At least Dumbledore wasn't there to see that. He was so drunk. But you know what's weird?"

"What?"

"I was happy to hear him pitching a fit like that. It was some kind of reaction other than the usual nothing from him. It was like he was Draco again and all of this never happened. I even half thought that I would come back here when I was finished and find him listening to music, playing with Dreizehn or doing his homework. Something like it was before . . . before . . . fucking Lucius Malfoy tried to tear him apart." Harry's voice was trembling with rage and grief by the time he was done. He bowed his head, biting his lip to keep from sobbing. He was all cried out, but once in awhile strange, choking sounds escaped from his mouth if he didn't keep a careful hold on himself.

"I know it has to be hard and I know you're doing all you can do. But believe it or not, there's an upside to it - Snape didn't know he was drunk. Just thought he'd taken a sleeping potion that wasn't strong enough. Fooling Snape, now that's a first." Hermione laughed a bit, she never would have thought the Potions professor could be so easily misled. She supposed she had to thank the gods for small favors, for if he had caught on they could hang up getting anymore help from the man, that much was sure.

Harry was well aware that she was trying to cheer him up and despite himself, he let her. He needed it. "That's true. I can't believe he thought that. Under different circumstances it would have been hilarious. I think I figured out why he came down there, though, now that I think about it. You see, the night before . . . all of that happened, he told me he would keep an eye on me to make sure Filch treated me right. After what happened over Christmas break, Draco figured the old fuck wouldn't mess with me too much if he was there to give him the eye."

"Oh? What happened over break?"

Harry smiled at the remembrance, frowning a bit as well since he knew how hard it'd been for Draco to bring himself to act like that, but it was still one of his fondest memories of them together. It had shown him that they were, well, a team. If one had to go down, then it seemed, the other would go with him. After all that had already transpired that semester that was bad, to Harry, that had been something good. Still smiling, he told Hermione all that they had done, including whose bed they were really sleeping on.

When he had finished, Hermione gaped at him for a moment before doubling up in a fit of laughter. "Spot on, you two! If he only knew. Oh that wanker, he deserved it and so much more. But I feel I have to say this: Shame on you and Draco, that was an awful thing to do!" She shook her finger at Harry sternly before beginning to laugh again. That was too great. Not too long ago she would have been appalled, but now, it was a fantastic thing to do. Retribution at its finest.

Harry was laughing along with her by then, tears rolling down his cheeks even as his insides fluttered at the thought of what they'd done on his own bed right before. "It was all Draco's idea, too. He's crafty, no doubt. I guess he was in Slytherin for a reason, eh?"

"I should say so," Hermione said, still giggling a bit before she sobered and looked Harry in the eye. "We'll get him back, you know. We will. I want to go see Professor Snape soon."

"How about now?" Harry asked, surprised to find that he was just as anxious and hopeful as Hermione seemed to be all of a sudden. They could do this, and when it was over, Draco would wake up from his nightmare. Things could start getting better again. He thought it was only fair that the fates cut him just one small break; grant them one slight reprieve.

"Are you sure? What about Draco?"

"He should be alright. He's got the whiskey and the stereo."

"Harry!"

"Well, he does. You know just as well as I do that he doesn't need to be watched twenty four hours a day. He's not retarded, Hermione, just messed up right now. That's all. Anyway, the way he is here lately, he should sleep until dark. He does pretty well when he naps during the day, it's at night when his dreams start and keep him - and me - awake 'til all hours," Harry said even as he reached for the aforementioned whiskey bottle. He gave Hermione a small glare as her own eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to speak as he drank.

Deciding against setting Harry off, especially at such a crucial juncture, she cut her sharp remark about alcoholics off at the pass and said in its stead, "If you're sure then ok. The sooner we can do this, the better. I'm ready when you are, Harry."

Harry set the bottle down on the night table where Draco could easily find it and nodded. "Let's go."

=*|*=

As they walked towards Snape's office, Hermione recalled a bit of gossip she had heard just the day before. Ron was going to be back at school soon. She thought for a moment whether or not she should tell Harry, then decided it was for the best.

"Harry," she started.

"Yes?" he answered, slowing his pace to walk evenly with her.

"Harry, I heard through the grapevine that Ron will be back at school soon, likely this coming week sometime. I don't think he is going to let what happened between you two slide, but I don't want you to go looking for him either. In fact, it may be best if you try to avoid him as much as you can. After what happened last time . . ." Hermione trailed off as Harry's eyes narrowed.

"What makes you think he won't drop it? I never wanted it to happen in the first place, mind you, so I won't be going out looking for him. That's just asking for more trouble," Harry said stiffly.

"Yes, Harry, I know that. And the reason I think he isn't going to drop it is because that's something else I heard, from Ginny no less. He wants a rematch. Which is rather dim if you ask me, then again it is Ron," she said the last with what Harry could swear was a very passable smirk on her lips. "The first bit though, maybe it is just a rumor. I really am not looking forward to seeing him again though. He's not stable, you know."

"I'd noticed," Harry said dryly.

"In fact, I'm dreading this. He shouldn't be allowed to come back here. But, did you know? Since he started it, he's got detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest for a week," she giggled a little, which made Harry raise an eyebrow. Since when had Hermione become so vengeful? Then he thought of her wide, frightened brown eyes and the red handprint glaring from her cheek that day. And the hurt, sad look that was there later. With those things in mind, he could imagine why she'd want to see Ron get his - and be a little frightened of seeing him again, too.

"While I agree with the fact he deserves at least some sort of punishment, having him expelled isn't really fair. I mean, I wrecked part of the castle's very structure and they let me stay. So. Yeah," Harry finished lamely.

"Maybe you're right. It's just, well, I am not real happy about seeing him again, especially not so soon. He's going to be awful. I just know!" Hermione said, her voice strained with worry.

Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, Harry said, "You worry too much, Herm. Just don't fret about it until you know for a fact you have to. And you have my word. When or if he comes back, I'll try and stay out of his way. It shouldn't be too difficult since we have no classes together anymore . . .or well . . . any kind of interaction really aside from accidental run-ins in the halls. But I'll be extra careful. I can see his hair a mile away so even that should be easy."

Hermione relaxed at the sound of Harry's comforting words. But she was still afraid, she just knew this was all going to end up an even bigger mess than it already was. She supposed she would deal with it when the time came. Now, however, was not the time for contemplation, now was the time for action. They had just reached the door to Snape's office.

"Here goes nothing," Harry muttered darkly as he raised his fist and knocked.

"Who is it?" Snape asked sharply.

"It's Harry and Hermione, sir," she called through the door, already grimacing at the task ahead.

"Joy," he said as the door was flung open to reveal Professor Snape still sitting at his desk, a decidedly bored look on his face.

The two entered the room, nervously shuffling their feet under the scrutiny of the man's black eyes.

When they didn't say anything immediately, he scowled and muttered something about daft children, whilst internally bemoaning their very presence in his everyday life. He swore kids got dumber every year, and apparently more incapable of coherent speech as well. "Would you two care to enlighten me as to why you feel the need to disgrace me with your presence? If not, I am sure you know where the door is."

Harry's eyes glinted harshly and he opened his mouth to retort until he felt Hermione place a steadying hand on his arm and murmur a barely audible, "Now is not the time."

He took a deep breath to calm himself and looked at the professor's blank face and scornful eyes. "Sir, we need to ask a favor of you. A big favor at that."

"And what might that be, Mr. Potter?"

"We. Well . . . we . . ."

"For crying out loud, Harry!" Hermione snapped, exasperated at his constant fumbling for words. "Professor, this is concerning Draco. As you may have noticed, he isn't getting any better. In fact, he's getting worse. We - me and Harry that is - think something happened to him far worse than Lucius beating him. I also think you feel the same. But, sir, he won't talk about it. At all. Which, I have determined, has only served to worsen his condition to the point it is at now. I can only guess that it will get worse. And I think you know that, too."

Snape was taken aback by Hermione's speech and the forward, unwavering way she had addressed him. The man was at a loss for words. "Just, what, exactly is it that the pair of you want with me? I've given him potions that should help him. Are they not?"

Harry chose to speak this time. "The potions are still working, but it's not helping him get better. It's just . . . glossing over the fact that he's not well. We need a different kind of potion from you. Professor Snape, we need this so badly. Nothing else has worked."

"What kind of potion do you need?" Snape asked, dreading what he thought the answer would be.

"Veritaserum," Harry answered quietly, confirming Snape's suspicion.

"Absolutely not!" the older man yelled, slamming his palm on the top of his desk. "Are you out of your mind? I could lose my job for that and you two could be expelled. Even you can't escape that when it comes to something like Veritaserum, Potter!"

"Sir, please," Hermione begged. The note of desperation in her voice did not go unnoticed, nor did the pained expression in her eyes when she looked at Harry. "We need this. Draco needs help, I know you can see that. I know you can! You have to have a heart in there somewhere!"

"This is not a matter of "heart" you stupid girl. This is a matter of our futures - all of ours," Snape snarled. He was becoming irritable to the Nth degree already. Damn the Gryffindors! They did not understand the concept of saving their own skin in the slightest. But what about Draco? If he was allowed to continue on the path he was on, he would likely go irretrievably insane. The young man was withering away before their very eyes. He could not ignore that fact. That was not a thought Professor Snape wanted to entertain. He was, after all was said and done, fond of the boy.

He was torn and he didn't like that feeling one bit. He looked at the two sets of pleading eyes before him and recalled Draco's grey eyes. The way he had always been so pleased to see him when he had visited the manor. No one was ever pleased to see Severus Snape. It had always warmed his heart, which until those moments he could always convince himself did not exist.

"You are aware that if I agree to this, and we are caught, the consequences will be severe," he said, his tone not one of resignation, but sharp and bordering on fury. "This is not to be discussed with anyone outside of this room. EVER."

Hermione and Harry both beamed at the grumpy, sour-faced professor. "Thank you, Professor Snape," Harry said.

"Yes. Thank me. Thank me when our arses are booted out of this establishment and into the lake to be left to the mercy of the giant squid," Snape groused, his entire posture more rigid than it usually was. "Give me a few moments to gather the potion and my wits. I shall meet you in your room shortly."

With that, he stood to go but was stopped once again by Harry's voice. "I think I can give him the potion myself, sir. We can wait here while you fetch it."

Snape barked a laugh that was so full of contempt that Harry went stiff and Hermione flinched. "First of all, I do not fetch anything. Do I look like a labrador to you? Secondly, do you honestly think I would let two students leave my sight while in possession of a potion like this? You truly are dense as a post, Potter. Do not think for one moment that I would trust you to do this. How you think I could trust a bumbling child and his somewhat brighter companion to such a task on their own is beyond me. Gryffindor stupidity I would guess. We do this my way, or no way at all. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir, you have made yourself perfectly clear," Harry said between clenched teeth.

"And so verbosely, no less," Hermione spoke, her own teeth clenched nearly painfully. Gods the man was a bastard!

"Good," Snape responded, ignoring their twin glares and Hermione's sarcasm. "I shall see you entirely too soon. Now, please, get out of my sight."

Without waiting for a response, Snape turned on his heel, robes snapping as usual and strode away to rummage in a locked cabinet they hadn't noticed when they had first entered. Hermione and Harry blinked for a couple of moments at the abruptly rude termination of the meeting before turning back to the door and leaving.

The man's caustic nature aside, he had agreed to help yet again. That's all there was to it. Harry prepared himself for what they may hear from Draco after the potion was administered. He tried to tell himself he was ready, that he could deal with anything. But truly learning the depths of Draco's hurt made something in him twitch in fear and anger all the same. At least Hermione would be there for support. He could at least be grateful for that.

=*|*=

A few minutes later Professor Snape arrived at Harry and Draco's room with the proper dosage of Veritaserum carefully tucked away inside his robes. Hermione opened the door before he'd even finished pounding on it, taking a childishly spiteful delight in causing such a racket. The look on her face was enough to crush his momentary enthusiasm for petty acts. She gave him such a reproving look that he had to wonder who was the student and who was the teacher.

"You nearly scared Draco to death with that noise," Harry spoke from behind her, his voice cold, the words clipped.

As Snape entered the room, he found Harry kneeling in front of the fireplace, trying to coax Draco out. Before the professor had started his noise, the blonde had been somewhat calm, engaging in a very stilted conversation with Hermione about Ancient Runes. She'd had to practically drag every word out of him, but she'd decided that making him talk, even a little bit was good for him. Her hope was that maybe it would help him to see that not everything in his life had changed, there were still the familiar things in life, like schoolwork. Then Snape had pulled his infantile stunt and sent the young man careening madly for his shelter in the fireplace.

"What is he doing in there?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow. This was the first time he had seen this particular behavior.

"He hides there when he's scared," Hermione snapped at him, taking him aback yet again. Good gods, his students had gone mad. They had to have to speak to him like they were.

"I'd appreciate if you'd drop the snarky attitude with me, Miss. Granger," Snape retorted. "I was not aware this was a part of his condition. Yet another thing you lot have neglected to tell me. How charming."

Harry rose from his position by the fireplace with Draco in tow. "Our attitude is warranted. He was fine - well, as fine as he ever is lately - until you went and did that. And don't you think for a moment Hermione and I don't know you did it out spite. Maybe you didn't know about how jumpy Draco can be, but that's no excuse. Not to mention, who are you to lecture anyone on secrecy?"

Snape growled. He'd had about enough out of those two. He raised a pale finger and opened his mouth to speak before that insufferable Granger girl cut into what promised to be an award winning tirade. "Both of you stop this right now! We all have to work together here, bickering amongst ourselves is not going to accomplish a ruddy thing and if either of you would stop and think about it, you'd see that. Men!"

"Very well, Miss. Granger. I agree, arguing with each other will solve nothing," Snape conceded reluctantly, but deep down, he had to admit that he was impressed with her. She was efficient and judicious. Not to mention her ability to curtail what could have been one hell of a blow up between Potter and himself.

"T-t-thank you," Hermione said, just as shocked by how easily Snape had dropped the argument as the look on Harry's face suggested he was. "Would you like to have a seat?"

"I believe I will, yes," Professor Snape said as he strode over to the bed and sat on the foot. "Potter, Draco, could you come here please?"

As Harry and Draco came to stand before the Potions teacher, he withdrew the small vial that held the three drops of Veritaserum. Snape presented the phial to Draco who was looking at him warily. "Draco, this is a new potion I think may work well for you. I'd like you to try it, it is very potent so only a small amount is necessary, but I believe it will help you very much," Snape said as kindly as he could manage.

"Hmph," was the blonde's indignant response. "You really expect me to take that? I'm may be crazy, but I'm not stupid. You're trying to poison me, I know this." Draco's eyes narrowed to slits as he smiled craftily. "So tell me, Professor Snape, how much is Father paying you?"

Snape recoiled as though he'd been slapped, shocked for a moment. Then he narrowed his own eyes. Professor Snape had definitely reached the end of his short rope of patience with difficult, crazy children. His wand was in his hand before he even thought about it. "Why you insufferable brat! Imperio!"

"Oh fuck!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Hermione! Professor Snape!" Harry yelped, looking between the two. Then realizing what had just happened, he yelled, "Draco!" as well.

"You will sit down and drink this potion, Draco, and you will do so right now," Professor Snape said in a soothing, yet somehow slippery sounding tone of voice. He turned his head to glare at Harry and Hermione who were too stunned to even move. "Now we all have dirt on each other. If one is caught, we are all caught. Such a cheerful little thing, wouldn't you say?"

"You fucking bastard!" Harry screamed as he watched Draco obediently swallow the potion. "Why'd you do that to him?"

"Haven't you listened to a word I have said, Potter? He wasn't going to take it anyway. He's too paranoid. You heard him, as well, I am sure. We're all in the same sinking ship now, for certain," Snape said coldly, ever the Slytherin in his scheming. Using Imperius had been impulsive, yes, but his quick mind had worked out a way that it would serve his advantage. "You are accessories to the use of an Unforgivable curse. If you dare breathe a word, you will pay, too, since neither of you attempted to stop me and still haven't."

"FUCK!" Harry fumed, yet again. "Take if off of him, now, before I start using a particular Unforgivable on you myself, you snake."

"Finite incantatem," Snape said with a bored tone of voice as he waved his wand at Draco.

Draco blinked and looked around the room. "Professor Snape, what are you doing here? Where is here? Hello."

Professor Snape thought something had gone wrong for a moment until he saw the relieved look on Harry and Hermione's faces. Things really must be getting bad for them to take Draco's strange, rambling speech as a good sign.

This was further confirmed when he heard Hermione whisper, "He's alright. Thank the gods."

"You call this alright?" Snape asked incredulously. "Is he often like this?"

"More and more each day," Harry responded going to sit on the bed with Draco. "Let's get on with this, please?"

"Certainly," Snape answered a bit too hastily for his tastes. "Draco, I'd like to ask you some questions. Is that alright?"

"No," Draco blurted out, looking more than a little nervous.

"Maybe not, but I am going to ask anyway," Snape said softly.

Without further adieu, he began to ask his questions. It took almost an hour to get Draco to tell them the things they needed to know and he fought it every step of the way. He was shaking and sweating by the time Professor Snape asked him, "What did your father do to you that makes you scrub at your mouth so?"

"No, I won't answer that. Harry won't love me anymore, you'll think I'm nasty and Hermione will laugh at me."

"That isn't true, Draco, none of it," Harry said softly.

"Mr. Potter is right, Draco. And you will answer the question. What did Lucius do to your mouth?" Snape asked, knowing that it was a bit of a low blow to phrase the question in such a way, but sometimes one had to stoop in order to rise above.

Draco bent over double and clutched his arms around himself, shaking his head violently. "I won't say it, I won't," he yelled as he raised his head, fighting the effects of the potion with all of his might. Then he deflated, unable to control the way the Veritaserum seemed to be pushing and shoving the words from his mouth. His filthy whore's mouth. "He made me suck his cock. He made me put it in my mouth and suck it. Then . . . then he fucked my face, alright? Is that what you want to know? Do you want to know that my father's semen is bitter and that I could feel it dripping out of my mouth? I can still taste it and he said that every time my darling Harry kisses me he hopes he can taste it as well, and I can't kiss Harry anymore because I know he will. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO FUCKING KNOW?!?!"

No one said anything. They just looked at one another and back to Draco who was shivering almost uncontrollably and muttering, "They hate me, they all hate me. Filthy little whoreboy. All I am. All I am. Go away, away, away."

Harry still didn't say a word, just drew Draco to him. The blonde went rigid then sank into the touch turning his eyes up to look at Harry. "You don't hate me?" He seemed genuinely confused, this certainly wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting.

"No, Draco, I don't hate you. I hate your father for what he did to you. None of this is your fault, he forced you to do that to him. I love you, Draco, all of you," Harry whispered to him as he stroked his long, flaxen hair.

Hermione, who until then had been standing quietly aside stepped forward and enfolded Draco in a tight hug as well. "I don't hate you either, Draco. How could I ever hate someone that talks about Ancient Runes with me? And just like Harry, this isn't your fault, this is your father's. He is a sick, sick man for what he's done to you throughout your life and this last was the worst. I am sorry it happened to you and that's it."

Hermione stepped back and gave him a brilliant, encouraging grin.

Draco almost wanted to cry. All this time he had thought his new friend and his lover would despise him for what had happened. But they didn't. Their feelings for him didn't seem to have changed in the least. To say he was relieved was an understatement. He was awed and even a little touched. Even Professor Snape, who hovered to the left, didn't seem to be disgusted by his revelation.

Then it dawned on him - Veritaserum. He hadn't thought of why it was impossible to answer untruthfully until then. They had given him a truth serum. He almost wanted to laugh at how sneaky even a couple of Gryffindors could be. Draco knew he should be angry, and maybe later he would be, but at that moment he was just content to wallow in the fact that the people he cared about still accepted him. It was an incredible feeling to say the least.

Yet he could still feel his father in his mouth and the taste started creeping back even as he rejoiced. Unable to help himself, he wiped at his mouth, drawing a frown from the other three people in the room.

"I can't help it, I can still taste it. I know it should be gone. I know that it is gone. But for me it is still there," Draco tried to explain, drawing rather stunned looks from the group. It was the first coherent thing he'd said since that afternoon, aside from the half conversation he'd had with Hermione but even then he'd said some odd things, and then it had only been Harry there to hear it. Draco, though, wasn't aware of this. He'd been away in his head for so long, he had no idea about half the things he'd said and done the past three weeks.

"You can talk to us about it, you know," Hermione spoke up. "Any of us in this room are here to listen if you want us to."

"I . . .I . . . think I do know that now. Thank you," Draco spoke hesitantly, his eyes falling on Snape who offered him a curt nod, confirming that yes, even he would listen if Draco wanted to talk.

Harry squeezed him tighter and brushed his lips across the curve of his ear, whispering, "Yep." as he did so.

The blonde offered a sliver of a smile to the room, still too drained to do much else. He felt immensely better, but that old familiar sadness had sunk deeper into his bones and he knew then that it would never go away. It would always be there, just below the calm, awaiting its chance to slither out and claim him once again. He supposed a better term for it was madness. Sometimes, when it was really quiet, he swore he could hear whispering voices in his head. They weren't always there by any means, but sometimes, yes sometimes . . .

Snape cleared his throat. "I think I will leave you three to your rat killing for now. I have papers to grade, first years at that. A delightful undertaking to say the least."

The three had to repress giggles, for the man did look genuinely agrieved at the task waiting for him back in his office. Hermione let a small giggle slip, but a sharp look from Professor Snape shut her up quickly. He walked to Draco and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You did good, Draco. I am pleased. Perhaps you can rejoin the living now."

"Thank you, professor, for all that you've done for me. For us," Draco said softly as he looked at the stern man. He noticed his black eyes soften for a moment before they regained their harsh glint. Yes Professor Snape, he decided, knew a lot about wearing masks. Perhaps he understood more than Draco had ever given him credit for.

"Good day to you all," Snape said addressing the room. "And to the wolf the is peering at me from underneath the bed as well."

Without another word, he spun dramatically on his heel and stalked out the door, leaving three gaping teenagers and one rather stunned wolf, in his wake.

"I guess that means you don't have to hide anymore when he comes calling, Dreizehn," Harry told the pup as he crawled from beneath the bed and stretched languidly. A slight wave of his bushy tail was all the response Harry got. Sometimes he expected him to start talking, as he often did with Hedwig as well.

"Should've known Snape would figure it out," Draco muttered.

Hermione just plopped into the chair and reclaimed her sandwich and juice from earlier. "He is very perceptive."

"Nosy is more like it," Harry griped as he pulled the whiskey from the drawer he'd hidden it in.

"That too," she agreed.

"He would've made a great detective, I think," Draco said as he took the bottle from Harry.

"You know what a detective is?" Harry asked him.

"Of course. Muggles aren't the only people that write detective novels. I've always liked them, although that's not reading material father approved of. But there's a small fiction section in the Hogwarts library here. I've enjoyed it immensely."

Hermione looked appalled at hearing that. She couldn't believe there was a section of the library she didn't know about. "Where is this at?"

"Near the back. I found it by accident. I'll show you one day," Draco offered, before slipping away a little bit to stare at the wall.

"Sure," she said cheerily, looking forward to the excursion. "Draco? DRACO?"

"Huh? What is it? My how the time flies," Draco said in a flat voice. "Oh, shit, what did I just say?"

"You were rambling again, love," Harry told him, a bit alarmed. But he should've known better than to expect Draco's recovery to be immediate. It must have been the mention of his father that triggered the small relapse. He made a note to be careful and avoid mentioning his father directly for a bit. He would tell Hermione what he thought as well.

"I'm sorry. Guess I'm not fixed after all," Draco said, frowning.

"These things take time, Draco. By talking about it you took the first step today," Hermione said, glad she'd read about psychology. She could possibly be very helpful through this. "It was a very brave thing to do."

"Is that what they call Veritaserum these days?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"Maybe that's what they should call it. You answered the questions and it was obviously very difficult for you to do so. And even if it was a potion, it still took courage to do it and not fall apart in the process," she answered him.

Harry hummed in agreement.

"Great. Now I am an honorary Gryffindor," he said, scowling theatrically. "For my next feat, I shall jump off the South Tower with nothing but a thin cord to keep me from splattering all over the ground. Bungle jumping, I believe it's called.

Harry laughed. "I see your sense of humor has returned in full force. By the way, it's bungee jumping."

"Perhaps, perhaps. And I see. Muggle words are hard to pronounce."

"Yet you speak German just fine. Oddball."

"That's different."

"Is not."

"Is so. It's wizard German."

"Mmhmm, and I suppose this is wizard British?"

"Shut up."

Hermione watched the exchange with a smile. Draco was already making one hell of a comeback, although she refused to lull herself into a false sense of security. She'd come to the conclusion that Draco would, most likely, never be well. He had been too far gone to begin with, then the whole Lucius Situation had worsened it. But he could be stabilized given enough time and patience. She thought Harry knew that as well. His compassion was almost awe inspiring and he did his best to understand Draco and work with him. Just like he had always done with everyone he cared about. Harry would go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones. It was part of what made him such a great person. His loyalty and devotion. Secretly she wondered if Draco had realized that as well and if that was why he'd really given him Dreizehn.

She stood up to leave then, intent on getting some studying done barring that she could focus her attention on books instead of the events of the day. Hermione figured she could do so, but it would be an uphill struggle all the same. "Hey guys, I'm gonna head back to the dorm now. I have studying to do, but I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe we could go to Hogsmeade or something for a bit if you're up for it."

"Sounds good, 'Mione. The three of us could use the fresh air," Harry said, smiling at her a bit and glad for her suggestion.

Draco on the other hand stiffened at the mention and shook his head. "You two can go, but I think I'd rather stay away from there for a bit."

"Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry. I didn't think about that. We can always do something else. Maybe we can go down to the Quidditch pitch and you two can teach me the finer points of that barbaric waste of time?" Hermione asked hopefully, noticing how Draco's eyes were already starting to glaze over and the irritated look Harry wore, not only directed at her, but at himself as well. He'd easily broken the vow he'd just made.

The blonde brightened considerably at that. "That may not be such a bad idea, I haven't ridden my broom in months and neither has Harry. Plus, we get to watch you scuttle around on one of the school brooms. Just try not to fall off, eh?"

"I have you know I am a fair flyer," she scoffed.

"Yeah, but you're pants at Quidditch," Harry grinned mischievously.

"Only because I've never played. That's enough out of you two," Hermione said, her voice stern but her eyes were sparkling as she fought a grin.

"Well, we look forward to it," Draco said almost cheerily. He was surprised that he actually was looking forward to it. He hadn't even thought about flying in ages, but now that it had been mentioned he was fairly itching to get back on a broom.

"Then it's settled. I'll see you two tomorrow. Now, good evening," with a wave Hermione walked out of the room.

Harry reset all of their charms and looked down at Draco. "So now what?"

"I think I may like getting royally smashed and actually knowing about it this time. Not to mention having the presence of mind to actually enjoy it," Draco answered, grinning a bit impishly. "Then maybe we can dance and play See Who Falls Down First."

"Ahhh yes, the game that's so much fun at the time and hell the next day," Harry laughed. "Sure? Why not? It'll be a nice break."

As an afterthought, he added, "It's good to have you back, Draco. You were starting to scare me there."

"It's good to be back and I'm sorry. I never meant to worry you, my head just wouldn't cooperate with me."

"You couldn't help it. I know that," Harry told him soothingly, noting the frantic edge to Draco's tightly controlled voice. He really did not seem to be able to stand the thought of believing someone was angry with him. And with good reason, Harry thought bitterly.

Lightly kissing the top of his head, Harry climbed off the bed and went to the where Hermione had been sitting in search of the sandwiches. What he found was an empty plate. "That little oinker!" he exclaimed.

"What is it?"

"She ate all three of those chicken and roast sandwiches she brought. I didn't even realize it," Harry grumbled. "Guess this means I have to call Dobby now, because I am bloody starved."

Laughter was the only response he received and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

Harry turned his back away from where Draco sat and as soon as he did, his hand raised to swipe furiously at his mouth until a crack announced Dobby's arrival.

=*|*=

Hours had passed and the two now drunk boys were indeed dancing foolishly, laughing and making wisecracks when one or the other of them would stumble. Dreizehn stayed well out of their way looking at them like they'd both lost their silly minds as they sang along with the songs they knew with unnecessarily loud voices.

Eventually it happened: Harry fell down with hard thump on the stone.

"Bugger!"

"I win, I win," Draco chanted as he continued to dance.

"Shut it, you, and help me up," Harry said.

Draco obligingly helped him up, nearly falling over himself. Harry rubbed his sure-to-be bruised bum and smirked at the blonde. "You'll topple over soon enough and when you do, I will laugh and laugh and laugh."

"Well, then, so much for your loving support and concern," Draco said menacingly even as he smiled a bit. Then his expression changed. "I love this song. Dance with me, Harry."

Harry indulgently pulled Draco to him, hoping he didn't stomp on his feet too badly, and did as he'd asked.

"Could we be invisble today?" Draco asked.

Harry merely laughed. "You shouldn't use lines from songs to make conversation with."

"It was an honest question though," Draco said in his own defense.

"We can be invisible anytime you want, I promise."

"Good."

Harry whispered into his ear, "The beast called Truth has risen."

"Mad love walks with him," Draco murmured back in a sleepy voice as they continued to sway.

Harry only smiled softly, a bit sadly, but happily as well. "I guess I just broke my rule of not using song lines for conversation."

A soft snore from Draco was the confirmation that he hadn't heard.

"Drowsy git," Harry said fondly as he wrapped his arms around Draco and propelled them both back toward the bed. He was far from sleepy, but Draco slept a lot of late, dozing off at all hours.

Placing him gently on the bed, he looked at the sleeping face of the man he had come to love so much. With another small smile, he brushed his lips over Draco's slightly parted ones, knowing that it would still be a while before Draco would consciously allow him to do it.

"Love you," he whispered before going to get the bottle from the top of the stereo and plopping down into the armchair. He sang along with the song that still played as he watched the flickering shadows the yellow glow from the candles cast across the room. "Walking away with a shadow, falling like stars from the eyes of the night."

Then Harry fell himself. He fell into deep contemplation, playing what Draco had told them all that night over in his mind and used it to feed his rage. Yes, he very much wanted Lucius Malfoy to pay for his atrocities. He made up his mind to be sure that he was the one who dealt out the punishment. Lucius had always played Draco's judge and jury. Harry figured it was high time someone played the evil prick's executioner. A small, dark smile curved his lips as his eyes took on a furious glare, practically glowing in his face.

Pleased with the conclusion he had arrived at, Harry rose unsteadily from the chair and grabbed his cloak. He needed some fresh air and decided that a late night ramble around the castle would do him some good. He briefly considered leaving Draco a note, but figured he'd sleep through the night after his revelations and the sheer quantity of alcohol he'd consumed. Placing another kiss on Draco's pale forehead, Harry patted Dreizehn then slipped out the door to wander the quiet, sleeping castle for a little while.

A/N: I have one more chapter already written and I promise y'all . . . I lightened the mood for that one a LOT. Gods it was fun to write, too. *wink* Shall have it up soon.