Broken Toy

Warnings: Language and a little bit of smut, violence, abuse
Author's Notes: Hm, this had been a difficult chapter. It was about time to reveal some certain, well, let’s call it unpleasantness in Draco’s past. It was hard to write but even harder to envision all the things I didn’t write. *winks* So, I fear, it gets a little bit dark now.

And, BTW, thanks for all the reviews I got so far – it’s a pity I can’t reply to them!

Well, then, enjoy!

ETA: Beta'ed by ravenqueen55!

Chapter Six

Draco could hear Potter moving about in the room next door. It seemed he’d finally gone to bed.

Funny, when Draco got up this morning, he wouldn’t have dreamed of literally lying back to back with Potter this evening. For their beds were not far apart; only the wall separated them. That much Draco had been able to find out when he curiously peeked into the various rooms of the first floor. Not that there were many. Draco opened the door to a huge bathroom, with a tub so big two people would doubtlessly fit in there comfortably, and a generous shower stall, basin, and bowl. On the other side of the hallway a door stood ajar, so Draco walked there next. The room wasn’t lit, but he could make out an enormous bed on the right side. Draco’s eyes lingered at once on the white cushions and linens. Obviously the bed was made for a couple. Was Potter married? With this thought in mind, Draco opened the door to the last room adjoining the bedroom. This was his room. Not as large as Potter’s, but it was nice and comfortable. Cosy, even.

The sounds next door quieted. Potter seemed to have come to a rest at last.

Fine. This left Draco time to think things over. How wealthy was Potter? Draco couldn’t forget the casual gesture of Potter throwing the money-bag full of golden coins into Pickles’ face. Two thousand galleons!!! Just like that. And Potter didn’t fuck or abuse him in any way after he brought him home. Why? What kind of pervert had Potter become? What kind of kinks made him scream? Well, Draco would find out sooner or later…

But, how prosperous was Potter? It was said his parents had left him a small fortune. And with him becoming the star of the wizarding world, his wealth surely hadn’t lessened. If Draco just played his cards out nicely, he could….yes, he could settle himself in a comfortable, warm nest.

A muffled, moan-like noise could be heard coming from next door. Was Potter having nightmares? Served him right, conceited twit.

Yes. A warm nest. He just had to make sure Potter got everything he wanted. He could manage that. He was trained to check out any male in seconds, grasp their needs, reveal their dreams. In the end, it all came down to fucking. Fucking him. Draco’s eyes reduced to slits. It wasn’t the first time he would submit himself to another. If it paid out, right?

He heard a stifled cry beyond the bedroom wall.

Potter surely was haunted by nightmares. Maybe Draco could help him there? Soothe him with his special massage, perhaps? Get Potter lying on his back, naked, with Draco’s hands all over him. They loved it. All of them loved it. Draco would run his palms with an expert gentle touch up Potter’s arms, to his chest, then down to his hips. And each time, calculating every move he made, checking out every reaction he got. Then, of course, clutching Potter’s prick, messing up his pubic hairs, grabbing his ball-sac tight. Next, producing as much spittle as Draco could get in his mouth, sucking the stiff prick, licking it, caressing it, until the twitching flesh moving in and out of his wet mouth couldn’t resist the teasing any longer. And he was sure to swallow Potter’s come. Yes, if he could do all that, it should pay out for him in the end.

Yes. It should pay out right…

Suddenly, Draco’s heart beat at double speed.

Potter didn’t only present him with the possibility of a comfortable home and money to spend. If Draco was clever enough, Potter was his ticket back to the wizarding world. Potter would be able to restore his name, his standing….he could be a wizard again.

Draco’s heart was pounding so loud he thought it was going to collapse. He frantically ran his hands through his long hair.

This was IT.

With all the skill he possessed, he had to make Potter accept him as his lover. And, under his expert touch, make him melt like wax in his hands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco shifted in his dreams. He had been right. Potter did have a restless night. But so did he.

A dream, the dream, returned this night.

Draco is eleven years old, and he meets the boy with these incredible emerald eyes. As soon as he looks into the huge deep green eyes, nothing else exists. The only thing that’s important is this boy with the honest eyes. The urge to touch the soft skin of his arms, his neck, his face, just to gently stroke any part of his body, is almost unbearable. Draco doesn’t know why, but he wants to cradle the fragile boy in his arms.

He lets his gaze sink into those irresistible green eyes, and gets lost in unlimited trust and pure sincerity. Amazed, he pleads, “You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

He holds out his hand, and the beautiful, delicate boy takes it. “Show me…” When the boy starts to smile at him, Draco’s heart leaps with joy. He returns the smile, but hesitantly because of a sudden shyness. Holding the hand of the boy still in his, he cautiously presses it harder. The boy doesn’t flinch, as Draco has feared. Instead the radiant smile broadens. And Draco realizes with wonder that he has found a part of himself he didn’t even know he had been missing. He feels whole. For the first time in his short life, he feels contented.

Slowly Draco leans nearer. Even now the dark headed boy doesn’t shrink back. Is Draco mistaken, or did the boy move a little bit nearer to him, too? His heart leaps again, and with all his courage he takes the fragile form into his arms. He is so delicate and frail. Draco presses the petite frame more firmly into his embrace, determined not to ever let him go again. The dark head leans on Draco’s chest, and Draco can feel the breath of the boy warm his breast. Smiling, Draco buries his face deep into the rich dark hair, taking in the fantastic scent.

Precisely at that moment, Draco notices something unmistakably hard throbbing against his thighs. He feels hot and alert at once. This feels so good… Draco shifts a little, and lets his own eager member meet the promising erection. He moans. He wants more. He wants naked flesh. He…

He awoke with a start. The memory of the dream heated his face with shame. Furiously he grabbed for his hard erection, hating himself for his weakness. With all his might he squeezed the hard piece of flesh until pain set in. No, not this time. He didn’t want to jerk off dreaming about the filthy half-blood Potter. Not again. Never again. Brutally Draco pushed the treacherous piece of meat between his legs and pressed them tightly together. He. Would. Not . Jerk. Off. He wouldn’t.

Damn Potter. If anybody was responsible for Draco’s situation, then it was this dirty bastard of a half-blood.

If the bugger had never come to Hogwarts, there wouldn’t have been any of these … dreams. If it hadn’t been for Potter, Draco would have been as straight as a ruler.
If it hadn’t been for Potter, Draco wouldn’t have been forced to hate the stupid git.

Because the more Draco had fantasized about the dimwit, the more he had deliberately given Potter reason to hate him. He never left out a chance to humiliate the pathetic fool. Just to make sure that what he’s been dreaming about constantly never would happen in reality. No Malfoy was gay. Never was and never would be. Father would have Crucio’d him endlessly if he had found out.

If he hadn’t been forced to hate Potter to hide his tendencies, he would never have fancied joining the Death Eaters.

If he hadn’t been forced to please his father and display all necessary characteristics of a pure-blood to hide his true feelings, he would never have agreed to attempt the assault upon Dumbledore.

If it hadn’t been for Potter, he would never have been caught, convicted, and damned. And he never would have become a whore.

Damn Potter.

But he would pay. Draco would make him pay for all those lost years, the humiliations, the loss of his name.

Silent tears ran down his cheeks when he tried to go back to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Huh?” Draco woke up with a start. Where was this annoying loud thudding coming from? Slightly disoriented, he sat up in bed. Where was he?

“Breakfast’s ready. Will you come down?”

Potter!

Draco sneered slightly and murmured, “Yes, my master, I’ll be there at your service right away.”

“What?”

Draco’s sneer deepened. “Coming!” he called out.

Draco waited until he could no longer hear the departing footsteps, then he hastened towards the bathroom. It wouldn’t do to annoy his future lover. From now on, he had to give his best to please him.

In the bathroom, he found some black jeans, black socks, a white shirt, and white boxers, neatly folded. Saint Potter. So thoughtful. What a perfect host.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a silent meal. Both men seemed to be totally absorbed in shovelling down toast and omelette. Which tasted delicious, by the way. But of course. What else did Draco expect? A perfect breakfast, prepared by Perfect Potter.

Draco kept his head down, not wanting to meet the intense emerald eyes. After a while, Draco could sense that Potter was watching him. He didn’t have to wait long until Potter tried to start a conversation.

“I hope the clothes fit?” Potter reached for his mug of tea. He cleared his throat delicately and added, “Err, by the way, those are new clothes… Not that you think I would give you…” His voice trailed away.

Draco immediately completed the sentence in his thoughts, “What, that you would hand me your worn pants?”

Instead he mumbled, “Thanks, they are… perfect.”

“I had to increase them a little. So that they fit. You are taller than I am…”

Still not looking at Potter, Draco repeated, “Thank you, they are perfect.”

They continued to shovel down eggs.

“Listen!”

The determination was unmistakable in Potter’s voice, all uncertainness was gone. Potter wanted to talk to him, and he wanted to talk NOW. Obediently, Draco looked up and ignored the disrupting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he met the bright green eyes.

“You are here in my house as my guest.” Draco couldn’t detect any emotion on Potter’s features. “I think it is obvious that neither you nor I like the fact, but we can’t change it. At the moment, anyhow.” Potter shrugged his shoulders. “You can stay here until I find a more convenient place for you to stay. Where you can start living your life as a…”

Yeah? What? A decent person? No longer a dirty whore? What, Potter, say it!

“Well.”

At loss for words? I’m disappointed.

“Sorry, Malfoy, but I really don’t know what it takes to get admission back into the wizarding world once you’ve been expelled.”

Draco’s heart started to beat fast. He couldn’t believe his ears. Potter volunteered to help him?

“But I will find out. I’ve got friends at the Ministry, you know.” Draco was too happy to sneer at this understatement.

“Until then, you’ve got to stay here, I’m afraid.” Potter got up abruptly and went to the kitchen door that led to the garden. Opening the door whilst turning around to face Malfoy, Potter continued, “So you have to become acquainted with the boys and girls. It will make your life here a lot easier if I present them to you properly. They can be a little bit over-protective when they meet a stranger, you know.”

Draco’s heart missed a beat. Boys and girls? So Potter was married. Damn. All the joy he had felt previously vanished in an instant. Potter was married. Most likely that obnoxious Weasel-slut had dug her claws into the perfect boy. A perfect match. He felt like bawling when he registered the proud expression on Potter’s face.

The numb feeling in his brain prevented him from realizing what was happening around him. It took some time to comprehend that he was surrounded by a pack of dogs and cats. They were everywhere around him, eyeing him suspiciously, sniffing at his legs and hands, occasionally growling and baring their fangs.

Draco registered that Potter was babbling something in a soothing voice.

“There, there. This is Malfoy. Friend. Friend. It’s all right. Everything is all right. Fine.”

Draco felt the urge to break out in a hysterical laughing fit. Boys and girls, honestly. Cats and dogs! When relief let his stomach behave normally again, he reached down to touch one of the creatures. But his hand stopped in midair. Something was wrong. Something about the whole pack was definitely wrong.

With horror, Draco noticed that every one of the animals was severely maimed. The ginger cat inspecting his right shoe had an eye missing, its tail was only half the normal size. The black Labrador, which was eagerly sniffing at his hand, stood on three legs. There were holes where the ears of the white Labrador were supposed to be, and its legs were facing in odd directions. One of the other cats, the tabby one, walked as if slightly disoriented. The fur of the black one seemed to have come in contact with acid or something; huge blotches of bluish skin were visible.

Eyes huge, Draco stared at Potter, who was smiling broadly.

“So now that you’ve been welcomed by my darlings, there’s just one thing you should know.” Potter sat down again, the happy smile still lingering on his face.

What else? What could top this horror cabinet? Draco held his breath.

“As we’ve Apparated here, and you’re not acquainted with our surroundings, you’ve got to know that we’re living here in what my friends call ‘the desert’. No direct neighbours, you know. The only people we will meet are Gwenny and Lance. They are twins. And Squibs. I’ve helped them once with… well, that doesn’t matter now. Err, like I said, they are Squibs, so they know their way with wizards. They made up their minds to follow me when I decided to move here, and they help me with the estate. Lance is sort of like a farmer; he takes care of my pets and the others.” Draco just stared at Potter open-mouthed. Others?

“We’ve got some horses and a lot of ducks and chicks.” Draco wasn’t interested in what they looked like. Potter was babbling on. “Gwenny has set her mind to doing the housekeeping, so don’t be shocked when she comes around tomorrow to clean the house. She does it every day except weekends. And she prepares some meals for me during the week, when I’m at work. All right?”

Draco decided to hide in his room when Potter was off to work. He didn’t want to meet these twins. Twins of hell, most probably. What was Potter up to? Collecting all sorts of maimed creatures? A tinge of fear upset his stomach. What kinks made Potter scream???

“Now that’s settled.” Potter clapped his hands together, obviously satisfied. Eying him closely, he continued slowly, “And now I would like to know…”

Draco had known it would come to that sooner or later. Potter was nosy, always had been. And he surely wouldn’t want to miss a chance to mock him. The dreaded question was uttered in just one word:

“Why?”

Draco pressed his lips together tightly. He didn’t want to reveal his recent life to Perfect Potter. But the man was persistent.

“Why?” he repeated softly.

“You don’t want to know.” Draco couldn’t help it; he had to spit out his answer.

“But I want to know what… put you in this… situation…” Everything about Potter was cautious, like addressing a sick person.

“DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW???” Draco’s voice cracked. He didn’t know why he started screaming. His heart was beating fast. He nodded his head, trying to get a hold on himself. The next words were tumbling out of his mouth at rapid speed.

“Oh, yeah, if I told you, you probably wouldn’t believe me anyhow. So WHAT?” Draco got pleasure from shouting now. “Will you jerk off when I tell you that I’m a whore? Is THIS what you want? Do you want to humiliate me? YOU CAN’T!!!”

Draco was shouting at the top of his lungs, and he didn’t give a shit. “I’ve been humiliated so often these last years, believe me, you won’t be able to top what’s happened to me. Not you. NOT MISTER PERFECT POTTER. And if you’re really the saviour, the saint, the one who saved us all, well do you have the guts? Are you ready TO FACE THE TRUTH?”

His chair fell over with a loud crash when Draco sprang up. Never noticing the terrified creatures springing up in panic right and left he advanced aggressively towards the still figure.

“DO YOU HAVE THE GUTS?” Saliva was flying from Draco’s mouth with every word he spit out. “LEGILIMENS ME! INTRUDE MY MIND! IF YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW!”

Maliciously grinning straight into the scarhead’s face, he repeated softly, “If you have the guts... Remember, there’s no way for me to block you out. No Occlumency for me anymore. – Can the pampered Potter endure learning a lecture on real life? CAN YOU?”

Another chair crashed down when Potter got up too fast.

Emerald eyes locked with grey ones. The tension between the two men was almost unbearable.

Although Potter had to look up into Malfoy’s face, he wasn’t in the least in the weaker position. Draco could feel energetic power radiating off him. In an instant, his rage subsided. Instead, fear spread through his inner organs like liquid metal. Had he been mental to provoke Potter like that?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry’s chest was heaving fast. Perfect Potter? PERFECT POTTER?

“Legilimens,” Harry furiously concentrated upon this one thought, and he felt his mind slowly melt with Malfoy’s. Not that he had wanted to, but the bastard had forced him somehow. And now he couldn’t hold back. He wanted to see…

Shreds of weird thoughts started to fill his head, strange emotions he couldn’t place at once were filling his soul. But he wanted to know, he NEEDED to know what…

Harry relaxed. After one short breath in, he let Malfoy’s memories flood him.

A small Draco, feeling lost and very inferior, sitting on the floor, one hand clutching a tattered teddy, bawling for his mommy. But the mommy never answers his desperate wailing. Instead his daddy comes to teach him a lesson. “No Malfoy bawls!” One strap with the leather belt onto his small shoulders. “No Malfoy cries for his mother!” Another strap with the leather belt, this time onto his back. The lesson small Draco has to learn consists of further straps with the belt until the little child isn’t able to even cry any more…

The images hit Harry like a blow. But he didn’t have time to examine them, for the next memory of Malfoy popped into his head.

CRUCIO, because Draco didn’t fulfill Daddy’s expectations. Malfoys bring home marks such as Outstanding or Exceeds Expectations, but never ACCEPTABLE! Pain explodes in Draco’s body, turning his insides out. Please stop that pain, please stop, please…

What??? A punishment like this to a child? Just because he…

Draco is holding his hand out towards Harry. But Harry ignores the outstretched hand, “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.”…

Huh? But this isn’t important. Is it? Why…

Harry didn’t have time any more to inspect the various impressions flooding his mind, further memories were filling his head in rapid succession now.

SECTUMSEMPRA! Draco collapses down in agony, blood is splattering everywhere, gushing from his face, his hands, his chest. Harry did that to him, Harry, and it hurts, it hurts so much…

Excruciating pain when the Dark Mark is tattooed into Draco’s skin. He doesn’t want it, but Father made it clear that every decent pure-blood will defend their way of living by all means…

Green innocent eyes dancing in front of him, accusing him, hating him…

Fear, so much fear when Draco stands in front of Dumbledore, pointing his wand at the helpless headmaster. “I haven’t got any options! I’ve got to do it.” Draco’s heart breaks. “I can help you…” The voice of the pleading Dumbledore becomes more quiet. Draco’s heart races, he doesn’t know what to do, he is helpless, he doesn’t want to kill…. “Avada Kedavra” - The jet of malicious green light hurts his eyes, it feels as if the curse had hit his own face…

Hiding in a shabby cottage. The Dark Lord is pleased. Dumbledore is dead. He pats Draco on the head. But Draco doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it at all. He wants to run away…

Stupefy! Draco is astonished how much it can hurt if one is hit by five stunners at once…

It hurts when they break his wand in two. It feels as if Draco himself was broken…

It is cold, and it is lonely. Not one of his old friends seems to know him any more. Zabini? Goyle? Crabbe? Parkinson? They slam their doors right in front of his nose. He is hungry. He is cold. Where will he go? Where can he go? Tears of despair run down his dirty face…

Horace Slughorn grins benevolently down at him. If Draco is nice to him, Slughorn will help…

Pain, so much pain when he loses his virginity. Slughorn has put a collar around his throat, calls him his little pet. He strokes his hair gently and penetrates his tight anus with no preparation at all. Draco bleeds and it hurts, it hurts so much…

Every time Slughorn uses him, he nearly crushes him. He is so slender and slim, and Slughorn is so big and massive…

One of the special parties with Slughorn’s friends. Draco is naked, as usual, the collar around his throat, as usual. Slughorn holds the lead tight in his hand and is laughing whilst his friends are fucking Draco with their hands, their mouths, their pricks and every tool they can find. The louder his howls of pain get, the louder the laughter becomes…

Another boy beside him, wearing Draco’s collar. “He’s younger, you know.” Slughorn grins apologetically. “Tighter. Not worn out, like you. I wish you all the best.” The smile of the fat professor broadens when he receives a bag full of money…

At least five fucks a day are necessary to earn your life at the Restricted Corner. Draco has to pay Pickles much money to get his protection and keep. Draco finds out that he can get more money when he serves the kinks. It hurts. He should be used to it by now, but it still hurts. But this way it’s just one or two customers a day…

“Slughorn?” Harry’s voice was so hoarse he had difficulty speaking. “Slughorn?” He repeated the name incredulously.

With great effort, Harry dispatched his mind from Malfoy’s. He couldn’t take it any more. Malfoy was right. He didn’t have the guts, obviously. His stomach turned.

Malfoy met his gaze defensively. “So what? I had to earn my living… There was nowhere else to go…”

Harry’s eyes protruded out of their sockets. Nostrils flaring, he stormed out of the kitchen into the garden out of sight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco couldn’t move. He had expected a number of different reactions; pity, disgust, disbelief, mockery, loathing. But not that. How could Potter leave him like that after Draco had opened his mind to him, letting him see some of his well-hidden secrets?

THUD!

Draco flinched. Something had exploded outside, something big. What…?

The kitchen door opened, and Potter entered again. His face was calm.

“I fear Lance has to build a new barn tomorrow.” Potter lifted his chair up casually and sat down. He held out an inviting hand. “Won’t you sit down again? And eat up, you seem to need some food. I can brew us some more tea. Okay?”

Potter had to be mental. That was clearly obvious now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

What do you think about it? Did you like it? Or hate it? Or whatever? Please leave a review and tell me! Thanks!