They Left Him to Live

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Part Four

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Harry had not been able to sleep for three days since he had learnt the time and place of his ‘meeting’ with Draco. He had tried to sleep, however. He had wanted to have his mind rested enough so that when he met with his boyfriend – ex-boyfriend, he presumed – he would be able to think clearly and explain everything. He especially wanted Draco to know just how much he loved him, and how he couldn’t live without him.

And so, Harry paced back and forth in the small waiting room of St Mungo’s, muttering to himself all the while.

Why, oh, why, had he listened to Hermione? Deep down inside, Harry knew Draco wasn’t going to care. He wasn’t going to listen. Let alone be interested in seeing Harry's Pensieve. Harry foolishly listened to Hermione, though. She assured him that not only would Draco look at it, but that Draco would, at the very least, understand.

He wondered for the twentieth time why Snape did.

Harry stopped, shoved his hands into his trousers and sighed.


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The moonlight was shining bright down on the two young men, who were glistening with sweat. The fair-haired man gently brushed aside the dark coloured fringe out of his lover’s eyes and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll return soon, Harry. I promise.”

“You better, Draco,” he whispered. “Because you know I will find you, and when I do…” he teased playfully.

The two laughed before kissing each other deeply.

The moonlight rays were morphed into a green light. Harry was slammed against the wall just as Draco came storming in with his wand drawn, pointed straight at Albus Dumbledore.

Harry’s eyes widened in horror. In a flash, Harry began screaming at Draco, accusing him of being a traitor, all the while thrashing against the magical binds that held him in place. His screams rose high above the soft pleading voice of Draco and the calm voice of Dumbledore. Harry’s eyes closed and he thrashed harder.

Suddenly, Harry fell to the floor and opened his eyes just in time to see Dumbledore rising in the air and slowly drift over the wall. He glanced back to where Draco was, but he was already gone.

The green light was now gone and it was replaced by a sky full of flames. Harry ran as fast he could towards Draco and Professor Snape. He stumbled and fell, and just when he had managed to get to his feet, he was thrown back by the curse Snape threw at him. Harry watched as the two men disappeared into the woods. He hung his head and cried, all the while yelling obscenities.

The tall flames of fire dimed to a small fireplace within the Gryffindor common room.

“Harry, please listen to me,” Hermione said, sitting next to Harry on the floor. She shook his arm to get his attention.

But Harry only stared at the flames, oblivious to what she was saying.

“I know he didn’t do it. Witnesses had said that Professor Snape killed Dumbledore. Not Malfoy.” She looked at Ron Weasley, who only shook his head at her.

“Let it go, Hermione,” he whispered.

“No!” She turned back to Harry. “Harry, you told me yourself that he said his mum was in danger. Don’t you see? He probably didn’t have a choice.”

Harry glared at Hermione and then stood abruptly. “I know what I saw,” he hissed. As Harry walked away, he heard Ron speak.

“Do you honestly think that ferret had the courage to kill anyone?”

Harry disappeared beyond the Gryffindor portrait.

Harry emerged again, pushing his way through the crowd.

“Where is he?” Harry shouted. “I want to speak to him myself!”

The Aurors led Harry to a small cell where Peter Pettigrew sat. The chubby man looked relieved to see him, and started pleading for his life. Harry whipped out his wand and aimed it at the man’s heart.

“Where is he? Where is Draco Malfoy?” he said angrily. “Tell me now!”

Pettigrew rambled on, barely stopping for breath, explaining how Voldemort had punished Draco, and that Lucius Malfoy had played a part in it. He told Harry that Draco had been viciously tortured and that it had gone on for days. Harry stood there, unblinking, hanging on every word that the man said.

“Y-you lie!” Harry screamed.

Pettigrew cringed and protested adamantly that he was telling the truth.

Harry closed his eyes and tightened his jaw. Finally, glaring at the man, he yelled, “Then where is he?”

Pettigrew curled into himself and whispered, “I think he’s dead.”

Harry froze and shook his head in denial. “No,” he said under his breath, and ran from the room. He ran past the guards, past his friends, and into the woods. It then became dark as night.

“Harry, stop this!” Hermione pleaded. “You need to eat! Starving yourself won’t bring him back!”

Harry shook his head and stared out the window. “I-I didn’t believe him, Hermione. I…” Harry closed his eyes. “And now he’s dead.”

Ron grabbed his arm and yanked him from the windowsill.

“How do you know he’s dead?” Ron shouted. “Are you really going to believe that lying bastard?”

Harry shrugged Ron off and stared out the window again. Then he barely nodded as a tear ran down his cheek.

He closed his eyes and the world went dark again. When Harry opened them, he gazed up at the moonlight. His face was sunken in and his eyes were dull and hollow. He clenched the window pane and leaned over, looking at the black grass far below him. He shook his head slowly and new tears fell.

“Why?” Harry asked, his voice cracking. “Why didn’t you listen to me?” He looked up at the stars. “Why didn’t you listen to me!” he screamed.

Harry began sobbing and his breath was coming out in rasps.

“You stupid fuck! I told you what He was capable of! If you would have listened to me, you would be here with me instead of…instead of…”

Harry's body shook violently, and he held onto the pane for dear life. He hung his head again and his shoulders slouched. “I can’t do this anymore, Draco,” he whispered. “How many more lives will be lost because of me?” He reached up and wiped his eyes. He mumbled quietly, “Mum and Dad, Cedric, Sirius… you….”

Harry looked back up at the sky. “I can’t lose Ron and Hermione. I just … can’t.” Harry inhaled deeply. “Maybe they’ll have a chance if I’m…”

Harry climbed out onto the window ledge, not taking his eyes off the twinkling stars.

“Please, Draco, please. Come back to me,” he cried softly.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A soft smile covered his lips. In a split second, the wind was rushing over his body and blowing his hair back. He opened his eyes and smiled. The ground was getting closer.

So close now.

“Aresto Momentum!”

The world spun and a blinding white light filled the infirmary. Yelling and curses rang throughout the room.

“You, idiot! You almost killed yourself! If Hermione wasn’t there--”

“Ron, shush!” Hermione leaned over Harry's bed. “Harry, can you hear me?”

Harry was staring at the white ceiling, watching the candles float in the air.

“You know you’re lucky they haven’t locked you up at St Mungo’s yet! I know they're talking about it!”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped. Looking back at Harry, she whispered, “Harry, you can’t go on like this.”

Silence.

“If not for you…do it for Draco,” she said softly in his ears.

Harry finally looked at Hermione. His lips curved upward into a smile that could only be called evil.

White walls faded into a field full of chaos. There was shouting from every direction. Harry barrelled into each room in the Malfoy Manor, blasting anything that looked like a Death Eater. When he had entered a room on the top floor, Harry’s wand flew out of his hand, and he was thrown to the ground. A tall man with flowing blond hair stood over him.

“Well, well, Mr Potter. We meet again,” Lucius drawled.

“YOU!”

“Surprised to see me?” the man said rhetorically with a smirk.

“Y-ou…you murderer! How could you do that to your only son?” Harry screamed.

Lucius Malfoy took a step back with his eyebrows raised. “Whatever are you talking about, Mr Potter?”

“You know what I’m talking about! You killed Draco!”

Lucius laughed. “Who told you that lie, Potter?” He looked at Harry’s face closely. “It was that fool Pettigrew, wasn’t it?” Lucius tsked. “Really, Mr Potter. I thought you had had more brains than that.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and looked at him, slightly confused.

“Don’t you realize that fool would have said anything to escape death?” the blond stated, then shook his head. “No, I did not kill my son, Mr Potter.” Lucius sneered. “I have more loyalty to my family than you will ever know.”

Harry scurried back away from Lucius, giving himself room enough to rise to his feet safely. “You lie,” he hissed. “He’s dead.”

Again, Lucius smirked. “On the contrary. He was rewarded well by our Lord.”

Harry frowned. “What?”

Lucius chuckled. “He was working for us the whole time, Potter,” he replied, advancing to Harry. “Surely you knew that.”

“No. No, he wasn’t! He left because of his mother!”

This time, Lucius howled with laughter. “You fool! He only said that because he had to get away from you! Our Lord summoned him back and that was only his excuse for leaving.” He paused to allow a cold smile to settle over his face that matched the iciness in his eyes. “You see, Mr Potter, Draco finally had all of the information we needed to find you.”

“What? No! He…he…You lie! He would have never done that!”

Lucius chuckled again. “Are you sure?” he said, leaning towards Harry. “Your eyes say ‘no’.” Lucius stood up straight. “Tell me, Potter, did you actually believe that Draco had loved you?”

Harry looked somewhat surprised, but tried to it hide it with a scowl.

“Oh, yes, he told us all about your…relationship. And how you loved him. In fact, he even gloated about how pathetic you were. ‘Don’t leave me, Draco’,” the blond said, mimicking Harry's voice.

Harry tried lunging at him, but was stopped by a wave of Lucius’ wand.

“N-no,” Harry whispered.

“Yes,” Lucius emphasised with a hiss. “How else did we know of your plans?”

“You didn’t know! You…” Harry stopped a moment to think. “You… you tortured Draco! That’s how you knew!”

Suddenly, Harry was thrown up against the wall.

“I would never harm my son! How dare you suggest otherwise!” Lucius shouted.

Harry clenched his hands into fists.

“He never loved you, Potter,” Lucius said, sneering. “In fact, he despised you. He told us that he would vomit after each time you had touched him.”

“You’re lying!”

Lucius continued as if Harry never had spoken. “You were nothing to him. Didn’t you know that?” Lucius paused to smirk. “He said you were only a fuck to him.”

“I don’t believe you!”

Lucius grinned. “Would you like to ask him yourself?” he challenged.

Harry was quiet for a moment, then spat, “If he’s not dead, then where is he?”

Lucius smiled smugly. “With our Lord, of course. Waiting for you. He told us that he wants the honour of killing you.” He smirked at Harry. “Now, do you still want to see him?” he mocked. “Would you like me to show you where he is?”

Harry nodded firmly.

“Then follow me,” Lucius replied. He turned away briefly, and then looked over his shoulder. “Pity he didn’t kill you when he had the chance.”

That was all the time Harry needed. With lightning speed, he rushed to Lucius, grabbed his wand, and then knocked the man down. Harry pointed his wand at him.

“Potter!” yelled Professor Snape. “No!”

Lucius glanced over at Snape, who was standing in the doorway, then looked back just in time to see a green light shining in his eyes.

Suddenly, the light went out.

The world swirled and swirled, filling the air full of brief clips of memories.

Draco cowering in his cell. Harry's anger. Accusations. ‘You were just a fuck to me!’ Draco's mutilated penis. Harry's vomit. Professor Snape sneering down at him. ‘You don’t deserve him and you never will.” Harry running.

The world slowed down just enough to see Harry running over to speak the head of St Mungo’s. Then to the Ministry. There was shouting and arguing back and forth. Money was withdrawn and given to the hospital officials. Again and again.

And again.

The world stopped.

“Harry, you have to stop this!” Hermione pleaded.

Harry had withdrawn more money, and was walking away from Gringotts.

“You’re not going to have any money left if you keep this up!” Ron cried.

“I don’t care!” Harry snapped.

“He’s not going to forgive you, Harry!”

“Ron! Don’t say--”

“I don’t expect him to!” Harry shot back and then turned to walk away.

“Then stop this! Stop punishing yourself! Stop feeling guilty!” Ron shouted.

Harry spun back around. “You think I’m doing this for ME? I’m doing it for him!” He marched back over to Hermione. “What would you do for Ron?” he spat.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth.

“Well?” Harry glared at Hermione. “Wouldn’t you give everything you own just to help him?”

Hermione barely nodded and quietly said, “Yes.”

“And you, Ron,” Harry barked. “How would you feel if you were the one who was maimed? Would you still want to marry Hermione?”

Ron glanced over at Hermione. “I-I…”

“Would you still feel like a man?” Harry continued. “Would you even want to live?” Harry asked, waving his wand around. Suddenly, he pointed it at Ron’s groin. “Hey, why don’t we find out?”

“Harry!” the two friends shouted at once.

Harry scoffed at them and then faded into the shadows.

Soon the shadows hissed at Harry as he walked by them. He stopped in front of a cell-barred door, waiting for it to open. A hunched over figure sat in the corner. Peter Pettigrew wearily looked up at him.

“You were telling me the truth about Draco, weren’t you?” Harry said rhetorically. The man weakly nodded. “Tell me everything,” Harry ordered.

Peter Pettigrew’s cell room dimmed and then the vision bled into a different, but similar darkened cell. This room stank of sweat, blood, and urine. Chains hung down from the ceiling. A tall, muscular man held a whip in his hands, and circled a smaller man who was hanging by his wrists.

Harry looked up at the large man. “Remember what I said. Do not stop until I tell you to.”

The large man shrugged. “It’s your money, boy.”

The first slice of the whip struck Harry's back, and he paused a moment before howling in pain. His body shook back and forth. After a minute of agony, he looked up.

“Again!”

The next lash hit Harry across the shoulders, and Harry arched his back, screaming at the top of his lungs. Before he even had a chance to recover, he yelled, “Again!”

Ten more times the whip bit into Harry's back before he told the man to stop. The man began to curl the whip up.

“No! I-I meant stop with the back,” Harry rasped out. “N-now the front.”

The man looked at Harry as if he had lost his mind. The hesitation made Harry furious.

“Did you not hear me?” he yelled. “Again!”

The man shook his head and struck Harry's chest.

Harry opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead he urinated. The man waited till Harry's body stopped swinging, and then grabbed Harry's hair to make him look at him.

“I will not be sent to Azkaban.”

Harry blinked at him and then smiled crookedly. “Don’t worry. You won’t,” he whispered. “Now, continue.”

The large man raised his arms, but Harry shook his head.

“No. Lower.”

Harry’s screams filled the damp and smelly dungeon.


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To be concluded….


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