After the End

Draco groaned. He was uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, whatever he was laying on, was too hard to lay on. His mouth tasted foul, dry and bitter. He was thirsty. His body ached, his head throbbed. Gingerly, he turned over onto his back. No better, he decided, maybe a little worse. It was dim. He sat up.



Four stone walls, brown, unpainted, undecorated, pretty much dungeon-like. The bunk he was laying on graced the block-like room. Sink. One chair. One blanket. A door. With a very big lock. Draco shivered. No clothes. Bad. Without clothes he was naked.



His memory was starting to return. Being angry. Harry bloody Potter living at the Manor, heaping insults on his mother's role as Lady Malfoy. His father having Potter in his bed. Wanting to punish his father. Leaving the Manor when the opportunity unexpectedly presented itself.



Having a really good time in Knockturn Alley, wandering down to the Dreggs. Meeting the curvaceous Miranda. Losing his virginity with her after a few pints of the real stuff, no mere butter beer. Though, honestly, butter beer tasted a lot better. Then....



Being alone in the room with the lovely and amorous Miranda, then.... Yelling, screaming. Being yanked to his feet, totally, completely bare-assed, in front of a dozen fully clothed men and women. All of them looking at him. Drunk enough that that wasn't all that bad. Someone touching him, pulling his bare bum up into the air, examining him, poking him, saying it wasn't too late. Whatever the hell that meant. Being carried, wrapped in a cheap, smelly blanket. Perhaps the same smelly one that covered him now. He'd kicked someone, pinched someone else, hard as he could, they'd yelled....he remembered with satisfaction.



Draco lurched to his feet and headed for the sink. Nearly to the sink, he saw there was toilet hidden behind a half wall, and diverted there. Falling to his knees, he vomited. Sour, harsh, acid taste on his tongue. He hung over the toilet until he was sure his stomach was empty. Then he dragged himself to the sink. Rinsed his mouth. Back to the bed, he collapsed on it, unable to keep his eyes open and his mind working. He hoped he would feel better when he woke again.



Draco did feel better when he woke the second time. That lasted only as long as he kept his eyes shut. When he opened them, he saw the tall stern-faced woman sitting beside his bed. Scowling.



Lady Meridith Byrne. He sucked in a hard breath, shrinking back into the more comfortable mattress. He frowned. He was not in the cell any longer. He was...he chanced a look around to get his bearings....looked like...a medical ward. He snapped his eyes back to the woman as she stirred impatiently.



"Mr. Malfoy." She said, _expression strangely gleeful through the attempt at expressionlessness. But, Draco was a Malfoy. He could read just how pleased she was that he was here. Trouble, his brain screamed, big, big trouble. Get out now. He took a measured breath. Assess the situation first. Then run like hell.



Draco smiled blearily, taking the time to look confused, weak, uncertain. "Wha...where am I?" He slurred. Uh, oh. Not all the slurring was an act. They'd given him a sedative of some sort. Or bespelled him.



"Such a handsome young man." She caressed his cheek gently, voice an oily murmur. "Rest, get your strength back. You brought in a very high price, dear. I wanted you to know that your buyer has agreed to take your virginity in a private ceremony, only a few special spectators. All very elegant and hush, hush. Tasteful. After the ceremony you will undergo a medical examination, then be returned to your home. So much unpleasantness might have been avoided if your father had just been reasonable."



She continued to touch him, smoothing his tangled, nearly white hair, tucking it behind his ears with careful fingers, sharp fingernails. He hated that. His hair tucked back like that. He was going to grow it, like his father's, now that he was older.



The abominable woman, receiving no immediate discouragement, leaned closer and straightened the spread over Draco's bare chest. She trailed finger tips over his skin. He shuddered, then lay immobile. If he could, he would lull her into believing he was either too drugged to protest, or that he didn't mind. But, it was hard. His skin crawled uncontrollably.



She seemed to recover herself just as her hands slipped to his waist. She drew in an unsteady lungful of air, and began stroking his face. Her eyes were rapt, avaricious. She smoothed her fingers over his mouth, over and over, she licked her lips and began to lean in. No way. No, no, no way.



Sick as he was feeling, Draco did what any Malfoy would do, he bit her.





chapter 22



Despite Harry's fervent request, Ron could not apparate to the Malfoy Manor right away. Things were going from bad to worse at Hogwarts, where six students were gone from the dormitories. It turned out all six had been signed away to the Ministry's protective custody. Dumbledore was devastated. The parents had all believed they were doing the right thing to help save their sons and daughters. Ron, Bill and Severus were part of the coalition making the effort to reach the remaining Hogwarts' parents before the aurors and the Ministry did. Once the documents were signed there was next to nothing that could be done.



Balthazar remained emotional, easily frightened and slept with Harry or not at all. Lord Malfoy had to take precautions, the boy had an uncanny knack for finding him, even in his own private rooms. Twice, waking with the child creeping into his bed, he had lifted the skinny body in his arms and carried Balthazar back to Harry's room, tucking them in together. Harry slept through these nocturnal movements, not waking even when Balthazar, replaced in his bed, wound himself around Harry like a constrictor. Lucius, always a light sleeper, shook his head. As soon as the boy had crawled into his bed, he had woken. One moment asleep, the next fully awake.



Balthazar preferred to spend all his time in company. When Harry bathed, the boy was next to him. At meals he scooted his chair close to Lord Malfoy. Not even a frigid glare discouraged him. The boy remained in the room when Lord Malfoy lectured Harry, but seemed not to be listening to any of the teaching.



The afternoon sun was shining into the high windows of the library, Harry was sitting in the chair he preferred, and Balthazar was curled up at his feet, drowsing, chin resting on Harry's knee. Lucius was striding up and down the floor, in a rare display of restlessness.



No word from any where, no one had seen Draco. Favors pulled in yielded no information. More than once, Lord Malfoy tried a new locater spell. All to no avail. Draco was out of his reach at the moment. He fought down rage, trying to think of another approach. Another way to find Draco. He had no romantic illusions. He had very little time left before Draco would be sexually assaulted. Narcissa was wild, requiring the constant attendance of a medi-witch. Lucius wondered how soon he would need one as well. He paced. And paced, and worried.



Suddenly, Lord Malfoy reached up and touched his face, fingers ghosting across his lips. His _expression was puzzled, disconcerted. His hand moved down, over his chest, slowly, as if he was not aware of what he was doing. Harry let his textbook fall flat in his lap. He snapped the book shut after one more second of watching his Master's vague motions, setting the book with a thump on the table.. Something about the way Lucius was running his hand over himself was making Harry very uneasy. It was not sensuous, nor sexy.



Lucius abruptly spun around and spat into the fire grate. Harry edged Balthazar aside as quickly as he could and gained his feet. He hurried to his Master's side, approaching carefully, not wanting to startle his Lord. Tentatively, he touched the larger man's back. Lucius straightened abruptly, wiping his mouth with a pristine white handkerchief.



"Sir? What happened?" Harry asked cautiously. Stepping back. Lucius's face was enigmatic, his eyes looking into the distance, as if Harry was not just in front of him. Then the gaze focused, and the man drew in a deep breath. It shuddered into his lungs. The following words chilled Harry to the bone. His hand covered his mouth as he listened.



"I believe someone was fondling my son, I felt it as it was happening. Stroking his face, then his chest. It stopped at his stomach, then moved back up, to his face. I think the person attempted to kiss him. Then, Draco bit them. I felt the touch, then tasted the blood in my mouth." Lucius kept the kerchief at his mouth. "I will kill them for this. For touching my son as if he is a thing to be used. How dare they?" The words were dark, dangerous.



"Was that all? All the touching? Are you sure there was not more? Could you tell if he was....?" Harry never got along with Draco, but he'd never wished harm like this to the other young man. And Lucius, his Master, Harry hated anything that caused him pain or anguish. Harry was surprised by that realization. He deeply cared for the formal and powerful man who was his Master.



Lucius Malfoy looked down at the youth standing at his side, nostrils flaring. His consort. who he had not been able to touch in too many days. The boy, Balthazar, took all of Harry's time, eluding the house elves, turning up instantly and unexpectedly if Lucius tried to find time to speak alone with Harry. The boy refused to respond to intimidation, as tenacious as a limpet.



Sex was an outlet Lucius had used for many things. To express love, desire. To express joy. To celebrate. To seal a bargain. To save Harry Potter from just such a fate he feared his son was going through. And he'd used sex many a time to fight his temper, bleed off pressure, and anger. He could not do that now. He had no access to his consort that did not include a frightened child nearby. He would not sink so low as that.



Nor would he turn to his one time wife. She played that role no longer. Lucius Malfoy was a faithful man, despite his reputation as other than that. His wife was his wife in name only, having betrayed him. He grit his teeth, and forced himself to be patient while the fear for Draco ate at him. While the frustration at being able to do nothing grew. The need to touch Harry built and built, until he burned with it. He fought to remain correct, polite. He fought to remain sane.



Three days later, Ron apparated from Hogwarts into the great room at Malfoy Manor.



chapter 23



Lucius Malfoy walked to the great room like a man on a mission the instant he felt the warning heralding the apparation ripple over his awareness.



He was there with a muzzy, sleep tousled Balthazar in tow as Ron appeared. Balthazar having been lifted from Harry's bed by the Lord of the Manor only moments earlier. Harry was following, wakened by the Lord lifting the warm, muttering body out of his bed. Rumpled with sleep, in dressing gown, pajamas, and slippers, Harry pursued the man and boy to the great room.



As Ron appeared, Harry was the first to embrace the tall red haired man. Stumbling forward and sagging into his friend's affectionate hug, mumbling his greeting, nuzzling his face against Ron's wide chest. It was a brief embrace. Barely long enough to be polite. They shared a smile, a very drowsy one on Harry's part, and Ron started to open his mouth to speak.



"Welcome again to Malfoy Manor," Lucius Malfoy said, crisply. "This is Balthazar. Balthazar, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps you are acquainted from Hogwarts?"



Lucius skillfully whipped Harry out of Ron's arms, before Ron could say more than, "Hey!", and swung Balthazar into the big youth's grasp.



Boy and man stared at each other uncertainly, while Lord Malfoy wasted no time in sweeping his startled consort out of the room and into the hallway with a grip like iron on the sleepy young man's elbow. Harry nearly stumbled, keeping up with the rapid pace the man set, making for the north wing. He wasn't sure if his feet were actually making contact with the floor at all.



Befuddled, he stood yawning in the middle of the room as Lord Malfoy secured the door, and swept him up in his strong arms. Harry found himself not so gently deposited in his bed, covers pulled back. His dressing gown was stripped away, his slippers tossed to the floor. All before he could blink himself fully awake. He was about to protest when he felt the lips on his own. Oh....yes.



Harry wound his arms around the large man's neck, sinking one hand into the long, silken hair, tugging at the hair tie until it fell away and he fanned the warm satin locks around them both.



Lord Malfoy was kissing him. Hot, wet, wonderful. All his attention focused on kissing, until Harry felt as if he were melting, gasping. He let his head fall back, panting for air, and Lucius' mouth fixed on his throat, licking and sucking the so delicious, tender flesh.



Harry whimpered. Lucius, driven beyond undressing Harry the conventional way, spelled his lover naked, with a flick of a finger. He filled his hands with the rounded flesh of his consort's bottom. Hot, firm, perfect globes, filling his hands perfectly. He groaned and pushed his way between Harry's thighs.



Harry wrapped one leg around the man's waist, pushing up hungrily. Lord Malfoy lifted the other leg, held both up and open and saw Harry spread out like a feast, like...surrender. Submitting to the will of his Lord and Master. Lucius felt madness seek to grip him. Lust burned in him.



He wanted to sink his hard, heated flesh into the yielding center of the young man spread so wantonly under him. He wanted to feel the resistance give way, to feel the impossibly tight heat envelop him. Wanted to slide in that slickened grip, panting, moaning until they both released their seed, his own deep in the body of his consort.



Lucius spelled himself naked, and was rewarded with Harry's sigh and writhing against him. Hard, long and thick, Lucius rubbed his erection on Harry's belly. They both cried out.



A word, made harsh by the raging need, and Harry was wet, lubricated. Hands shaking the man reached down, positioned himself so he could rub the tip of his erection against Harry's core, brushing past the sensitive anus over and over, while the youth writhed.



"Oh, Ghod, please, oh, Ghod. Uhhh." Harry moaned, squirming his hips. They hadn't done this, what he thought was coming, he knew was coming. And Harry wanted it so badly, needed it , feared it.



Slowly, Lucius bore in, a fraction, then faded back. Again, with infinite patience belied by the roaring in his ears. Inside, inside, his body was chanting. Into that heat, into it now! He pressed, pulled back, Harry cried out, begging him, "Oh, Lucius, please hurry, please."



Lucius ignored the plea. He kept it up, the in and the out, fractions of an inch, a millimeter gained, then half that lost. A whisper in, a whisper out. He knew it would be faster if he used his fingers, or a spell to open the untried body, but he wanted it this way. He wanted the exquisite torture, the ball-bursting holding back, until he'd won the deepest position, buried in Harry's body.



The friction drove both of them crazy, Harry arched up, twisted, tried to impale himself on the cock teasing him so mercilessly. Sweat dewed his forehead, his throat, his torso. He felt it springing up over the rest of his body. He was beyond speech as he felt Lucius slip in, past the ring of muscle, felt himself dilating, the sudden pleasure/pain of the penetration. Deeper, deeper, his body demanded. He cried out, yielding, needy, echoing.



In, out. It was exquisite. Torture and wonder. Harry's channel around him, working in further, feeling the panted breath along his cheek, the squirming body sliding over his skin to skin. Above all the tight, oh so tight, sheath taking him in, holding him, Lucius surged in, it wasn't possible to hold back, not any longer.



Harry threw back his head as the penetration slammed into him. Oh Ghod, not possible, impossible, how could he not have known? Why hadn't anyone, not even Ron, told him it was like this? How could he have feared this?



The man, his lover for only a lover could make him feel this, struck hard and deep, withdrew, moved in, and Harry threw his head back in disbelief as his body spasmed. There, that time, what was that? Oh, oh, oh. He had no speech left to ask. sensation shivered through him. His limbs were jelly, his body beyond his control as Lucius rode him. Every stroke was gliding in over something in his channel that made him writhe, forced urgent sounds from his throat.



His orgasm, wild and intense as it was, was incidental, the pleasure continued, as Lord Malfoy drove in, spearing Harry on his cock, the rhythmic pulses of Harry's release driving the man to the brink. Sweat ran down his body, his hips surged, pistoning in and out. There was only one thing for it, with a deep, tearing moan, Lucius shot his pleasure into the body he held, the body that held him. The orgasm started in his lower back, melted up through his chest, down through his thighs, Ghod, unbelievable. His whole pelvis released, his body far beyond his control, beyond any sensation it had experienced before. Buried to the hilt, he tried to go even deeper, to force himself inside another fraction. He keened, almost breathlessly, echoing the sound of the youth under him.



It wasn't over all at once, It was gradual, fading ever so slowly, breath slowing. Body relaxing, from ultimate tension to ease, limp, sated. Lucius rolled off the much smaller man, rolled to the side, his arms cradling the precious body to his own. Finally they managed to look at each other, their eyes meeting, locking, rapt. Astonished. Neither man prepared for it.



chapter 24



"My Lady? Madam Byrne?" The head auror stepped into the director's Office. He was stocky, blond haired, young, no more than thirty, the war had decimated the ranks of the aurors, they had served as the Ministry's front line in the fight. He was the strongest one left.



"What is it, Jarden?" Her voice was just a little impatient. Her lip was swollen and throbbing, bruised. For some reason the healing spells weren't working on the bite wound. She was in pain. Pain made her even more sharp, irritable than normal. Taking the herbal preparations helped only a little, making her sleepy as much as decreasing the pain. The medi-wizard she'd consulted, was not able to tell the Director of the Ministry of Magic why none of the healers could heal her.



It was that horrible boy. The Malfoy brat. He'd been docile at first when she was with him, showing proper concern for the valuable asset he was. She'd swear he was enjoying her stroking his beautiful pale-ness, his silky, fresh, young skin, that near white hair. His sweet, pink mouth was too great a temptation to pass up. A kiss or two would not infringe on the rights of the man who had purchased Draco Malfoy's virginity. The man need never know. But, the foul child had bitten her. Utterly without warning.



"My Lady, we can't keep up the block indefinitely. We are running out of aurors. Lord Malfoy is relentless." Jarden interrupted her dark thoughts, his voice an annoying whine in her ear. He was frightened, more each day, by the sheer strength of the wizard he and the other wizards were trying to block. The aurors were not weak, it was just that Lord Malfoy was amazingly strong. Amazingly determined.



"You don't need to keep it up indefinitely, Jarden. The problem will be taken care of tomorrow. Lord Darrew is arriving then and the matter will be settled. Once the boy's virginity is gone, there will be nothing Lord Malfoy can do. It will be over." Lady Meridith spat out. Resentment curled in her breast. Why couldn't the man, Lord Malfoy, see she was doing what was best for them all, saving the Ministry. The World. Her responsibility extended far beyond one man and his family.



The auror looked at his boss as if she had lost her mind. Did she really believe Lord Lucius Malfoy would not seek revenge? That he would roll over, capitulate, and say, she'd won, the game was over? If the boy's virginity was taken unwilling, there would be more hell to pay, not less. Did she really doubt that, or not see it at all? He fumbled for a way to make her see reason.



"Madam. It takes six aurors on constant watch in the boy's room to keep up the shielding. Lord Malfoy is relentless. He searches even in his sleep for the boy. The pressure of his power, I have never felt any so overwhelming. We can't fight it much longer. When he finds out what has happened to his son, we will have no reserves left to oppose him." Jarden hoped he had gotten some of the urgency through to her. Some of the risk they were all taking.



"Are you questioning me?" Lady Byrne pushed back from her desk. She stood and stared at the man standing before her. She shook her long finger at him. "There may be sacrifices we have to make. But, we can not lose to Lucius Malfoy and preserve the Ministry. If he wins, the Ministry will fall, the other Masters will support him. Without the Ministry, the world is lost. History, Jarden. Do you see why this is so important? Merlin, I have to explain everything to you idiots. Just do your job. That is all I ask of you. Is that too much?" She whirled and stormed out of her office.



Meridith Byrne strode down the long, empty corridors of the once crowded building. She needed some air. Her mouth burned. And another dose of painkiller. That venomous brat had probably poisoned her, just like the serpent that was his family's crest.



chapter 25



Time was running out.



Lord Malfoy bent forward, dropping to his knees. His hair fell back from his uplifted face. His grey eyes were unseeing, gaze turned inward. "Merlin, please, do not let this happen," he asked silently. "Let me find him, let it be in time."



The grey eyes closed as he went deeper, Lucius bowed his head, a slow, suddenly reptilian move, the move of a predator stalking prey, his singular purpose riding him. He would not fail. He was the Hunter, and he was hunting.



He drove his consciousness out, slowly, inexorably, a wave that defied resistance, making his way through the cities, towns, villages that whipped past in his mind. His hands were outstretched, reaching, fingers hooked into lethal claws. His muscles tensed, corded, as his power swelled filling every nook and cranny of the virtual landscape, scraping it clean, scouring it until nothing was secret, nothing hidden from him. He moved with incredible speed. Like a hurricane force wind across the land.



Time was running out.



He was the only one awake, even the house elves had not made themselves known yet. There was an air of waiting, of anticipation, of dread, and it would not let him rest. In his sleep he had felt his son calling, calling, asking why he had not been found. Lucius woke with Draco's cry in his ear, reverberating, panicked.



The ghostly touch of hands on his skin, told the Lord of the Manor someone was...bathing his son. He was being prepared. oiled. The realization drove Lucius up, out of the bed, away from the slumbering figure of his consort and into the privacy of the library. Sweat beaded his body.



He poured himself a tumbler of his favorite scotch with careful hands. Swirled it over his tongue. Swallowed, then set the glass down. He checked the wards on the room, tightened them, assuring he would not be disturbed. He let his mind flow outward, and tumbled into his search. Driven to his knees by the rush of magic exploding as he leapt into the hunt.



There. Draco was near the Ministry. His tongue flicked out testing the air, Lucius could taste it, the scent that was only his son.. He narrowed the location down that far. But, he could get no nearer to the exact location. He pushed harder. Pulled power from the founders of House Malfoy, from the earth-serpents bonded to the Lords of the Manor who had gone before him. Concentrated, willed the power to find his heir. Trembled.



The door to the library opened noiselessly. Large eyes regarded the man standing in the center of the room, his body moving almost imperceptibly as he swayed on his knees, searching. The blanket wrapped figure, hair standing wildly on end, slipped into the room, as if the wards were not there, barely more than a shadow, gaze intent, instinct pulling him toward the solitary man. His steps were lighter than a feather's touch, quick and sure.



The blanket fell to the floor as the skinny arms reached out, the skinny body moving nearer, purposefully until it's goal was attained. Going to his own knees behind the larger body, Balthazar slid his arms around the bare torso of Lord Malfoy and pressed his own naked chest to the man's back, his cheek coming to rest at the nape of the Lord's neck. Balthazar sighed, content. The effect was instantaneous.



Everything in front of Lucius Malfoy vanished. There were no buildings, no landscape, he was no longer floating, seeking, hunting because he had found what he was looking for. Razor sharp, all his focus snapped to one point, a beam of power that could not be shielded from or resisted.



He broke through the layers of secrets, broke through the combined power of the aurors, ripping away the layers of misdirection, piercing the umbrella of magic, until...he saw Draco, spread bare on a bed. The medi-witch standing beside the bed looked up with a gasp, sensing the invasion, sensing the primordial rage, sensing the danger.



Without thought, Lord Lucius Malfoy apparated, reappearing in the room imprisoning his son. Six men and women, aurors, lay dazed on the floor, the medi-witch stood, paralyzed, wand upraised in mid-spell. Draco moaned, head moving slowly, side to side, the scent of drugs wafting up from his body. Lucius took a step forward, a weight rode him, clung to the back of his body. He knew it was friend not foe, he fought to comprehend, to ascend to thought, from the place he had fallen to, the place of the serpent.



Balthazar? What was he doing here....



The medi-witch stared at the half naked man and boy, the younger wound round the older tightly, like he was painted on the man's pale skin, bare toes curling on the cold stone floor, sleep tousled hair a nimbus around his head as he was pressed to the man's back. His eyes were huge, disbelieving.



Blond hair crackled, power, magic rode over the man's skin, and from the man's to the boy's, like lightning storms, bolts of too bright light flashing, snapping. Filling the air with charged anticipation.



The door to the cell slammed open, men poured in, and one woman. The blond Lord's head whipped around. The human thought regained for a moment, instantly gone. The predator returned. He had to protect what was his, the boy on the bed, was his.



Tall, angry, righteous, her lip grossly swollen, Meridith Byrne stalked into the room, her face a mask of fury. The predator's eyes locked onto the lip, and he knew what had caused the wound. The taste of it was a nauseating memory. Here was the person who had dared touch his belonging like a thing to be toyed with, like a thing without feelings.



"Lord Malfoy," Lady Byrne began. She never finished the sentence. The being that was Lord Malfoy, struck with a virulent hiss. Between one instant and the next, she simply vanished, ceased to be. And the room, filled with five aurors, all grown men, all warriors, went deathly still. All of them had seen battle, seen death, and dying. None had seen anything resembling this.



Madam Director Byrne was no more. No remnant of her presence lingered. She was gone, irretrievably. Just gone.



ne'ichan